by Tara Lain
Danny hauled the suitcases up the elevator and knocked on the door Ralph had indicated. No answer. He rang the bell.
The door flew open to a frowning Chilcott. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Danny glanced at the bags on the floor. “Returning your suitcases, or would you like me to take them back and let you come and get them?”
Chilcott harrumphed enough to look mildly sorry. “Yeah. Apologize. Not the best couple of days.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Did you make a special trip to bring them?” He waved into the entry, and Danny pulled the bags inside.
“Nope. Had other business in town.” He looked up into the large, high-ceilinged apartment and came eye to eye with a dark-haired twink wearing only a towel. So that would explain the “not coming back” part.
Chilcott noticed Danny’s glance, followed his line of sight, scowled, and muttered, “Guests from out of town.”
“Anyway, I have a bag for Mr. Belmont. The doorman says he doesn’t live here, so where should I take it?”
Chilcott’s expression said To hell for all I care, but he shrugged. “I guess to his office. Armisted Design.” He smirked. “Be careful. They’re a bunch of sharks. Don’t get sucked in.”
“I’ll watch where I swim.” Danny started to walk away.
“Hey, Boone.”
“Yeah?”
“Did you and Laurie have a thing going back at the ranch?”
Danny fit his hat back on his head slowly. “Thing? Hell no, man. Far as I can tell, he thought you were the bull’s balls.” He turned and sauntered away. Think on that, you cheating asshole.
LAURIE WALKED toward work like he was dragging sacks of flour. Or rocks. Shit, why can’t I just do my job? He liked his work, and he did it well. If Carlson knew what was good for him, he’d just leave Laurie alone. No such fucking luck.
Sometimes he took a cab to work, but not now. Not today. He glanced back at his apartment building. He liked it. He liked the Mission. Better start thinking of a new place to live. He stopped walking, and a guy behind him almost ran into him. Grumbling, he cut around.
Where did that thought come from? Why would I have to move?
Because I’m not—repeat, not—going to sign a noncompete clause.
Whoa. Revelation.
He started walking again, faster. But how would he get out of signing it? By leaving the company and starting his own business before he signed the noncompete. But to do that, he needed money. Hell, he could work out of his apartment or get a new, cheaper apartment. Not ideal, but maybe some of his most dedicated clients, like Viola, might stay with him. Still, he needed new computers, someone to help him part-time at least, insurance for the business. Crap. No matter how he thought it through, it all came back to dollars and sense.
And then there was the issue of the lawyer for his father.
Oh shit. He wanted to sit down on the street corner and cry.
Instead, he walked through the front doors of Armisted Design. Francie, at the front desk, looked up, smiled, and then glanced quickly from side to side. She waggled a hand to come closer and whispered, “So glad you’re here, but you might want to run back out. Carlson’s on a tear.”
“I heard.”
“I’m not sure we’re going to have any clients left when he’s done.” She glanced toward the doors to the back offices. “But be careful. It’s hard to tell who’s on whose side.”
“Got it. Thanks, darling. Is he here?”
“Not yet.” Glancing toward the back, she took his hand. “It really is good to see you. Did you have fun, at least?”
Hard to remember. “Yeah. Parts of it were great.” And he knew exactly which parts. Suddenly a wash of loneliness hit him like a tidal wave, and he had to swallow to keep from gasping. Lonely—for what?
“You okay?”
“Oh, sure. I was just remembering some fun times. Okay, I’m going in.” He pinched his nose and started toward the inner door.
Francie giggled.
In his office, Laurie pointedly left the door open and then pulled out his cell and called Viola.
“Laurie, hello, dear. Thank heaven.”
“I’m baaaack.”
“Not a moment too soon. I’m not signing this nonsense Carlson sent over. Not a flaming chance. I want to work with you and only with you.”
“Yes, well, I’m working on that.”
“Oh? It’s about time. Tell me more.”
“I can’t do that—now. But I have your design well in hand and ready to go.”
“You’re at work, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re on your cell phone.”
“Absolutely.”
“So you’ll call me when the coast is clear?”
“Sure will.”
“Okay, dear. Look, I know that if you set up your own business, I can bring you more clients. None with my stunning taste or discernment—” She laughed. “—but don’t worry about business.”
“Thank you, dear. So happy to hear that.”
Carlson swept through Laurie’s office door. “What are you happy to hear?”
“Kiss Daddy for me and we’ll talk later, darling.”
Viola laughed as he hung up. Laurie smiled, though it took tons of energy to do it. “My dad’s feeling better today.”
“Oh, great, great.” Carlson waved a hand and started digging in his tote bag.
The office phone rang, and Laurie snatched it up. Saved by the legendary bell. “Laurie Belmont.”
“Hi, Laurie, this is Hannah Anderson. Remember me?” Oh yes, he did. Small budget, high demand, and hard to please.
“Yes, of course, Hannah. How are you?” He put a hand over the phone speaker and whispered, “A returning client.”
Carlson frowned but nodded and walked out of the office.
Fifteen minutes later he’d taken notes on a new great-room design Hannah wanted, and convinced her to come into the office for a meeting. When he hung up, Carlson powered in like he’d been listening outside. Probably had. “So, new business?”
“Not new. She used us for design of a new wing of her home about a year ago, remember? She’s a bit of a pill.”
“She must be a pill who pays, or I’d remember her.”
“Oh yes, she paid.”
“Good, good. Now, let’s talk about the new contracts.” He plopped down in the guest chair and pulled several pages out of his bag. “Here’s a copy of the contract I sent over to Viola. She hasn’t returned it yet, and I want you to call her and tell her to sign it.”
Laurie looked at the wording. “Viola’s my client. She came to the firm because she wanted to work with me. She told you that, and you assured her she could. This makes her your client.”
“They’re all my clients, Lawrence. Some of them just happen to work with you.” He frowned. “My lawyer says this makes it all nice and legal.”
“And this lawyer is Jeffrey?”
Carlson smoothed a hand over his slicked-back brown hair. “You remember him.”
“The guy you were trying to get in bed?”
“He’s a very good lawyer.” He tapped a finger on the contract. “Call her and tell her to sign.”
“And if she decides to leave the firm instead?”
“Oh, she won’t. She loves you.”
Laurie sighed audibly. “I’m replaceable, Carlson. If you’re trying to lock in all your clients to this ridiculous ironclad contract, you’re going to lose a ton of them. Clients don’t belong to us. They go where they want.”
“It’s because of your laissez-faire attitudes that our clients aren’t more locked in already.” He pulled another contract from his bag. “Enough of this nonsense. Here’s your new contract. Sign it.”
The knots in Laurie’s stomach would have strung the rigging on a four-masted schooner. “I’ve told you that you can’t enforce a noncompete in California, Carlson, so what’s the point?”
He
crossed his arms. “All I have to do is take it to court, which makes my employees—like you, babycakes—have to hire a lawyer to represent them, and I’m guessing you can’t do that and start up a business at the same time.”
Laurie crossed his arms right back. “But you forget. Like you, I fuck my lawyer.” Or used to, but Carlson didn’t need to know that.
Carlson frowned. “I guess we’ll have to test the theory. Sign.”
Okay, confrontation time. Laurie sat back in the chair. “I’m not going to—”
“Laurie?”
Laurie looked toward his office door and for a second couldn’t quite situate himself in time and space.
Danny stood there in full cowboy regalia and full Danny gorgeousness, with Francie standing beside him, but how? Why? “Uh, hi? How did you get here?”
“Chilcott told me where you work.”
Francie glanced at Carlson and then back at Danny. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you, but your door was open.”
Carlson literally gaped, mouth open and eyes wide. Danny wasn’t a sight one saw in Armisted Design every day.
Laurie nodded and stood, crossing around to Danny with an extended hand. “It’s okay, Francie.” He smiled at her and she took the cue to leave, but she glanced back, curiosity written all over her face.
Laurie smiled. “Danny, it’s good to see you. Last view I had, you were picking up your winnings.” He shook Danny’s callused hand and tried to ignore the tingling that traveled up his arm.
Carlson’s eyes widened. “Winnings?”
Play this to the hilt. “Yes, Danny’s a champion bull rider.” He squeezed Danny’s hand just a little, and he seemed to get it.
Retrieving his hand, Danny tugged on his hat brim. “Aw, I was just lucky.”
Laurie bit the edge of his tongue to keep from laughing. “So what brings you here?”
Danny glanced at Carlson, then back at Laurie. He probably remembered enough to know that Carlson wasn’t Laurie’s best friend. “Uh, thought I might invite you to lunch.” He glanced at his serviceable cowboy watch and flashed his dimples, which clearly made Carlson want to come in his pants. “Make that brunch.” He glanced up, green eyes dancing. “I want to discuss some business.”
If Laurie hurled himself on the ground and kissed Danny’s boots, would Carlson notice? “Sure, I’d love to.”
Carlson plastered on a smile. “Do cowboys do much decorating?”
Danny gave him a level gaze. You could practically count the oil wells he must have gushing on his property. “Might need some for a new place I’ll be building up around Chico. Never know.” He smiled at Laurie. “Ready?” He offered his arm. Give this man an Academy Award.
Laurie took Danny’s arm. “See you later, Carlson.”
Danny swept them out the front door of the office, flashing his smile at Francie, and they made it down to the sidewalk before they both started to laugh.
Laurie stopped walking, holding his sides. He drawled, “‘Mahght need some fer a place ah’ll be building up around Chico.’ Oh God, you’re great. Thank you. So why are you really here? And how did you find me?”
Danny frowned for a second; then his face returned to neutral. Did I offend him? “I brought the suitcases. I took Chilcott’s to him and found out the name of the company you work for, so I brought your bag.” He crossed his arms. “Also found out you’re not going back to Chilcott’s anymore. I guess I saw the reason when I was there.”
Laurie frowned. “Yeah. I saw it too.”
“Sorry.”
“Yes, well, all kinds of shit is hitting fans around here, so why shouldn’t Grove be a cheater as well?”
“Come on. Might as well eat.” Danny pointed at a local coffee shop. Laurie nodded and followed the flexing ass into the cute, old-fashioned diner.
After the hostess in her short fifties-style skirt and bobby socks gave Danny the eye and then led them to a booth, Laurie leaned back against the red vinyl banquette with a sigh.
Danny ordered coffee for both of them, then handed Laurie a menu from behind the jukebox selector. “Chilcott asked me if we had a ‘thing’ going at the ranch.” He stared at his menu a little too hard.
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth. I said you appeared to think he had a corner on the market of sexy.” He half smiled.
“What did he say?”
“Since the twink behind him was wearing a towel, there wasn’t much to say.” He looked up. “I’m really sorry this happened. He’s nuts and deserves to lose you.”
Laurie blew the hair that stuck to his cheek. “Thanks. Me getting on my high horse couldn’t have come at a worse time, though.” He shook his head and tried to smile at the waitress as he ordered a cheese and spinach omelet and some cottage cheese. “I need all the protein I can get.”
When the waitress left, Danny sipped his coffee. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Remember I was having problems with my job? I might have told you my boss is a piece of work. But I don’t have the money to go out on my own yet, so I haven’t made any waves. I’ve been planning on staying for at least another year.” He sighed. “But now Carlson’s called my bluff. He’s trying to redo all the contracts in the office, which would make my clients his clients, and he wants me to sign a noncompete clause. I can’t do that. For one thing I don’t want to lie, and I couldn’t afford to go to court. He knows that.” He took a slug of coffee and pulled back the cup fast. “Damn. Still hot.” He set it down. “Anyway, I went to Grove to see if he’d loan me the money. You know the rest of that story.”
The waitress brought the eggs, which, despite nice piles of fresh spinach, looked as appetizing to him as the hay in the McIntyre barn.
“How come you don’t have money? Don’t they pay you in that joint?”
Laurie stabbed at his eggs. “They make us invest part of our savings in company stock, and I gave the rest to my parents.”
“That’s gotta be illegal. The stock, not the parents.”
Sometimes Laurie wondered about both. “Regardless, here I sit with at least one of my best clients ready to leave and go with me, but I can’t set up the business.”
The phone buzzed in his pocket. Probably Carlson. He grimaced as Danny dug into his scrambled eggs. “Excuse me.” He glanced down. Mother. “Hi, Mama. What’s up?”
“Laurie, get here quick. Your dad—”
“Shit! I’ll be right there. Where are you?”
“Home.”
“Shall I call 911?”
Danny glanced up, fork still poised at his mouth.
“No. Don’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Just get here.”
His mother sounded hysterical. Even allowing for her usual drama, that was over the top. “I’ll be there soon.” He hung up and dug for his wallet.
Danny put a hand on his wrist. “Don’t. I got it.” He glanced at the check and tossed bills on the table. “Let’s go.”
“Where are you going?”
“With you. You’re in no shape to get anywhere safely. I’ll come and see if I can help out.”
Well, hell, if that didn’t sound like the most wonderful, kind, soothing idea ever. He swiped at his watery eyes. “Thank you.” He scooted from the booth and ran toward the door.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
DANNY PAID the cab driver as Laurie leaped from the vehicle and ran toward a brownstone in a niceish section of San Francisco. It looked like it might once have been gentry-type homes but now had a couple of runs in its stockings.
Danny followed Laurie up the porch stairs. Man, it had only been a couple of days, but seeing Laurie felt like getting tossed off a bull onto concrete. More than just his normal response to femmes—much more. That combo of ready to faint on the couch and take charge just revved him up.
Laurie keyed open the door and walked in, waving at Danny to follow. The entry looked tasteful, perfect—and a little dusty.
“Mama!” L
aurie trotted into the small living room. “Mother?”
“Up here, dear.”
Danny looked up the staircase where the voice came from. “Shall I wait down here?”
“No. Come with me—please. If you wouldn’t mind.” Those big doe eyes glistened. Hell, who could say no?
Danny nodded and followed. At the top of the steps, Laurie turned left down a hall. He called, “Mama, I have someone with me. Is that okay?”
“Grove!” The voice sounded like a shriek, and a woman ran into the hall, her face alight. She took one look at Danny and frowned. “Who’s this?”
Laurie looked uncomfortable. “Mother, this is Danny Boone, a friend I met while we were at the ranch. He returned some bags and was there when you called. He offered to help.”
Her face looked sulky. “I don’t see how he can help unless he hid his law degree in his other boots or happens to have a couple million he doesn’t need.”
“Mother, you’re being rude. Danny’s my friend, and he offered to help. Now where’s Daddy?” He pushed past her into the room. “Daddy?”
“Here, Laurie.”
Mrs. Belmont smiled tightly at Danny, then turned sharply and followed Laurie into the room. Interesting. Easy to see Laurie was adopted. His mother wasn’t pretty. Barely attractive. She might be fifty but looked a lot older. Wonder how she feels about having such a beautiful son? Did she choose him for that beauty? Danny wandered a couple of steps farther down the hall so he could see in to what turned out to be a kind of sitting room. Probably attached to a master bedroom on the other side.
He looked into the room in time to see Laurie kneeling at the feet of a slim, silver-haired man with glasses. The frames were a shade of gray that almost matched his skin. Laurie said, “Dad, what happened? Mama implied you were ready to go to the hospital.”
The man looked up at Laurie’s mom, who had her back turned to Danny. “No, son. I was just feeling my usual. Tired and old.”
Laurie glanced at his mother, then took his father’s hand and pressed his cheek to it. “You’re not old. Come on. You’re not even sixty yet.”
“Some days I feel like a hundred and sixty.”