Open House

by Mickie B. Ashling

  “Oh, stop,” Lil said with a flick of his wrist.

  “Yeah, don’t say shit like that with me around,” Grier said in mock protest. “I happen to think I did a great job with your place.”

  “You did,” Seth said immediately, “and Bryce was just kidding.”

  “I know.” Grier grinned. “Come in.”

  Seth couldn’t believe what he was seeing when they stepped into the house. It had an open atrium design, with soaring ceilings and large planters filled to overflowing with live ferns and colorful flowers. It felt like he was walking into a tropical paradise, not a home in the Midwest.

  “My goodness,” Seth exclaimed. “Your heating bill must be astronomical.”

  Lil cackled. “Grier complains about the temperature all the time, but I was born and bred in California. This,” he continued with a dramatic sweep of his arm, “is my concession to living in this horrible climate. I suffer from seasonal affective disorder, and it’s important that my lighting mimics the sun during the long winter months. The cost is peanuts compared to my loss of income if I sank into one of my SAD depressions. Isn’t that right, love?” he asked Grier, who was standing off to the side with Bryce.

  “Lil is a freak about the cold,” Grier said frankly. “You would think he’d be used to it by now, but he still hates it. The seasonal lights go on as soon as the leaves start to change color.”

  “That’s very interesting,” Seth replied. “I’ve never known anyone with that problem. I might use that for a book.”

  “It’s more common than you know,” Lil said. “Most people call it the winter blues or cabin fever, but it’s actually a legitimate disorder.”

  “Very interesting,” Seth said.

  “Did you say you might use it in a book?” Grier asked.

  Seth nodded. “I’m a novelist.”

  “How exciting,” Lil said enthusiastically. “What type of stories do you write?”

  “Mostly historical romances.”

  “Duels at dawn and illicit rendezvous,” Lil observed dreamily. “Throw in some cross-dressing madams and you’ve got a new reader.”

  Seth only smiled, not sure if Lil was joking or not.

  “Shall we continue with a tour of the house, or are you ready to sit around the outdoor fire pit and regale me with stories of your trip?” Lil asked.

  “I’d love a tour,” Seth said. “It might give me some fresh ideas for the remodeling.”

  “That’s right,” Grier said. “Bryce mentioned you had a place you were going to sell.”

  “We have a major mold problem we have to deal with first,” Bryce said seriously, “but we can talk about it later. Why don’t you take Seth on the tour, and I’ll help Lil with the fire.”

  “Sounds good,” Grier replied. Turning to Seth, he asked, “Ready?”

  “Lead the way,” Seth said.

  They did a sweep of the main floor, starting with the kitchen, and slowly made their way up each level. If Seth had to describe the overall atmosphere of the house, it would be imaginative but practical, distinctly masculine with splashes of color he was coming to recognize as Grier’s trademark, and above all, sleekly modern. He couldn’t see anything remotely resembling an antique. Even the artwork was twenty-first century.

  When he stepped into the master bedroom, he was looking for anything that would give him a hint of the couple’s kinky nature, but the only thing visible was an elegantly peaceful room with a corner fireplace, a giant flat-screen TV, and a bed that was clearly custom-made. It appeared wider and longer than a regular king and covered with a beautiful damask bedspread in varying shades of blue. The old Seth would have missed the O-rings discreetly attached to the four corners of the wooden bedframe and wouldn’t have thought to look overhead to see the same mirrored ceiling Grier had employed in Bryce’s bedroom, but his newly minted sensuality zeroed in on the tiny signs of a rich and satisfyingly carnal relationship. When he saw the lacy black dressing gown hanging from a hook behind the bathroom door, he couldn’t help but wonder which one of the partners was the cross-dresser. It couldn’t be Grier, the embodiment of masculinity, so it had to be Lil, he rationalized. Seth could easily see him prancing around the room in lace, and for a brief second, he wondered what it would feel like to have the softly decadent fabric draped around him.

  Grier interrupted his erotic trance with a cough. He looked embarrassed that Seth had seen the lingerie and hurried him out of the room and back down the stairs.

  “Your house is beautiful,” Seth commented, striving to return to their earlier comfort level. “I’m definitely interested in hiring you for my remodel.”

  “Glad you approve,” Grier said. “We try and keep our interior fresh by remodeling every three years. Lil can’t stand being left out when anything new and improved comes on the market. The man is a stickler for state-of-the-art everything,” Grier admitted. “My parents’ home looked the same the entire time I was growing up, so this quirk of his was a little disconcerting in the beginning. It made me sick to see perfectly good pieces of furniture being carted off simply because he was bored with them, but Lil insisted they were going to his favorite charity and nothing would be wasted.”

  Seth chuckled. “I hear you. The only time my folks bought anything new was when something fell apart.”

  “Go figure,” Grier said.

  The fire pit was already ablaze by the time they got outside, and Lil and Bryce were sitting on wooden recliners, holding beers and picking at the large tray of cold cuts and cheese.

  “What did you think?” Lil asked when they walked toward him.

  “Amazing,” Seth said. “You’re hired.”

  Bryce grinned. “Told you.”

  Lil pointed at the bucket of beer on ice, and Seth grabbed two bottles and handed one to Grier.

  Grier turned to Bryce after taking a long pull of his brew. “What were you saying about a mold issue?”

  Bryce looked at Seth, who gave him permission to proceed with a brisk nod. After giving Lil and Grier an abridged version of the mold problem, they fell silent.

  “Why do I have a feeling there’s more to this story,” Lil said intuitively.

  Sighing, Seth turned to Bryce. “Do you want to tell them, or shall I?”

  “Everything?” Bryce asked.

  “It’s only fair.”

  Bryce nodded and proceeded to tell them the whole story, leaving out Owen’s threats. The situation was convoluted enough without throwing that part into the mix. Besides, he still hadn’t come clean with Seth and thought he should know the truth before they shared it with their friends.

  “My God,” Lil exclaimed and turned to Seth. “You’ve had one shock after another.”

  Seth flushed and began picking at the beer label. When he felt more in control, he looked at Lil and said, “I’ve learned a lot since Mark’s death. It’s a pity it took something so catastrophic to open my eyes. It almost feels like I’ve been reborn, and I’m still learning to live with this new version of me.”

  “I love the new-and-improved Seth,” Bryce said earnestly.

  Seth was surprised Bryce was so open about his feelings in front of an audience until he remembered Lil and Grier had worked and socialized with Bryce long before tonight. He relaxed and acknowledged the words by leaning over and kissing Bryce softly.

  “Love you more,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “And… on that lovely note, I think we should start the barbecue,” Lil announced.

  Chapter 13

  MONDAY WAS the usual clusterfuck, but the steamy send-off he’d received from Seth made it slightly more bearable. Midway through the morning, Bryce was interrupted by his assistant, informing him that Owen was on the landline.

  “He’s insisting on talking to you,” Angie muttered.

  Bryce’s blood pressure spiked, and when he picked up the phone, he barked, “What the fuck is your problem, Lightfoot!”

  Unperturbed, Owen said, “I need an answer.”r />
  Hedging, Bryce said, “We’re still discussing it.”

  “You’ve got until the end of the day. After that, it’ll be too late.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m inspecting the house tomorrow, and I have to e-mail my report to the home office,” Owen said. “If I leave out a few zeros, they’ll deny his claim.”

  “The house is overrun with toxic black mold,” Bryce said angrily. Although it hadn’t been officially confirmed, he was certain there was a legitimate case. “How on earth are you planning to cover that up if Seth refuses to play ball?”

  “It’s his word against mine.”

  “No, it’s a legitimate mold remediation report versus your bogus figures. You think I’m stupid, Owen? I’ve been in this business long enough to have contacts in every phase of building. You’re doing a flyby inspection. Whose figures will hold more weight?”

  “That might be true, but I can spin this to make your matinee-idol boyfriend look like a cold-blooded killer. Don’t underestimate me, Bryce. I, too, have been in my business for years and have seen some nasty shit. More often than not, it’s the loving spouse holding the smoking gun. Just saying, buddy. Fuck with me and you’ll be sorry.”

  Bryce was struck by the vehemence in Owen’s voice. The man sounded desperate, so Bryce decided to try another tactic. “Look, if it’s money you need, maybe I can spot you an interest-free loan, but leave Seth out of this. It was hard enough for him to get over Mark’s death. This insurance policy came as a complete surprise, and to be honest, he’d rather walk than get involved in a big legal fight. Why don’t we try and work something out?”

  “How much are you willing to fork over for me to go away?” Owen asked.

  “I don’t have a hundred and twenty-five grand to spare, but I can probably come up with twenty-five grand. Pay me back in pennies if you want. No interest. Hell, no paperwork, if that’s what it takes. It’ll be a gentlemen’s agreement between us,” Bryce assured him. Inwardly he wanted to laugh at the use of the word gentleman. Owen was anything but that.

  “That’s not enough, Bryce. I need at least fifty.”

  “Jesus, Owen. What kind of trouble are you in?”

  “What do you care? You walked away from me, remember?”

  “This isn’t about the past, okay? We’re talking about today, and I’m asking about your problems on the off chance I can help.”

  “There’s nothing you can do for me except give me the cash I need.”

  “I don’t have that kind of disposable income,” Bryce said flatly.

  “Don’t give me that crap. I’ve seen where you live and what you drive. I’ve also researched your company. It looks solid on paper; any bank will give you a loan. On second thought, make it seventy-five. You can afford it.”

  “No, I can’t. I have a mortgage and a car payment, not to mention salaries for my employees. Your perception of my net worth is way off.”

  “Then I guess we’re back to the original plan—I’ll take a cut from the insurance payout or fuck with your man. Your choice.”

  His choices sucked, and Owen sounded more determined than ever. Thinking of Seth under attack by a man who outweighed him by at least fifty pounds made his blood run cold. His sedentary lover had no idea how to throw a punch, let alone defend himself. He needed to come up with a plan B to keep Owen in check.

  Against his better judgment, Bryce asked. “If I can manage fifty, will you leave us alone?”

  “How soon can you come up with the cash?”

  Shit… what was he thinking? He was about to cut a deal without consulting Seth. Wasn’t he doing the same thing Mark did? Disrespecting his lover by assuming he couldn’t handle this crisis. Mark hadn’t been in his right mind when he’d kept mum so, in a sense, he got a pass for making the wrong decision. Terror notwithstanding, Seth would never forgive Bryce for taking matters into his own hands. They had to be on equal footing, or their relationship would fail. Wanting to protect Seth from danger was one thing, but keeping him in the dark was wrong on every level. Love was no excuse for acting like a dumbass.

  With that in mind, he made his decision. “Give me at least twenty-four hours to see if I can pull this off,” Bryce said. “It’s the least you can do.”

  “I gave you the whole fucking weekend!”

  “Yeah, but my loan wasn’t on the table,” Bryce said evenly. “Things are different now.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow at this time.”

  “And the report?”

  “Gets put on hold until we have a deal.”

  “Thank you.” Bryce hung up, wanting to add for nothing. Owen wasn’t capable of honesty, and the likelihood that he’d keep his word and leave them alone after they paid him off was highly improbable. Would a marauding vampire stay away from a handy neck once he’d had a taste? Not a chance. Bryce’s knee-jerk reaction was to go straight to the cops, but he decided home—and Seth—was the better choice. On his way out, he informed his assistant that he’d be incommunicado for the next few hours. He’d check back with her later to make sure everything was running smoothly and the Chicago Loop, where his office was located, hadn’t been overrun by crazies. He was starting to see monsters around every corner, thanks to Owen.

  It was close to noon by the time he unlocked his front door. He’d stopped at Whole Foods and filled up two large containers of chicken Caesar from the fresh salad bar, so they wouldn’t have to mess around with food while they were conversing. After laying the bags on the kitchen counter, he went to the bedroom. Seth was in the shower, which hopefully meant he was done writing for the day and Bryce wouldn’t be interrupting.

  “Hey,” Seth exclaimed when he walked out of the bathroom. “What are you doing home?”

  Bryce soaked up the sight of Seth in his terry cloth robe. He’d never known a man who could look alluring in such an ordinary getup, but there was something innocently sexy about the guy standing there with his hair still wet from the shower, freshly scrubbed and glowing.

  “I brought lunch,” Bryce said.

  “Thank you,” Seth gushed, obviously touched by the gesture.

  He hurried toward Bryce and wrapped his arms around his waist before kissing him. They broke apart and he asked, “How long can you stay?”

  “As long as necessary.” Bryce was smiling, but his tone was serious and Seth was no dummy.

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  Moved by the endearment that slipped out so easily, Bryce pulled Seth back into his arms and held on for a few minutes without responding. Finally, he said, “Do you remember when I came home the other night and asked you if you wanted to hear the good or bad news first?”

  “Uh-huh. As I recall, we never got to the bad news.”

  “Right. There’s no putting this off, babe. I need to tell you what’s going on.”

  “Let me throw on some clothes, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” Seth said calmly. “Whatever is troubling you can wait five more minutes.”

  “I’ll set up lunch.”

  “Okay.”

  Bryce was sitting at the kitchen table nursing a beer when Seth walked in dressed in a T-shirt and soft cotton lounging pants. Wordlessly, he walked over to the fridge and pulled out his own beer, uncapped it, and went to sit across from Bryce.

  After taking a large swallow, he put down the bottle and nodded. “Let’s hear it.”

  Leaving nothing out, Bryce started with the altercation in the parking garage and kept on talking until he recounted the latest phone conversation. Seth bit his lip when Bryce mentioned Owen’s threat to turn physical if they refused to cooperate. To his credit, Seth didn’t fall apart like he would have in the past. He sat grim-faced and resolute.

  When he did speak, he was coldly analytical. “Why did you offer to lend him money? It’s a losing proposition.”

  “I don’t want him to hurt you.”

  “I understand, but that man is seriously disturbed,” Seth replied. “There’s no guarantee that
he’ll leave us alone once he’s gone through his stash. We have to go to the cops.”

  “I thought about it, but Owen is capable of anything,” Bryce said. “Before we involve the police, I want to make sure you know what we’re dealing with. He sounded terrible, like he was at his wit’s end and we were his only lifeline. There’s no guarantee the cops will get here in time if something goes wrong. We’ve got to be on the same page, or we don’t do it.”

  “You have no idea how much I appreciate you being so forthcoming.”

  “I do, and that’s why I’m sitting here telling you he’s dangerous and determined to get his way.”

  “Then we’ll have to outsmart him,” Seth concluded. “That shouldn’t be very hard. He might be stronger than me physically, but I’m afraid he’ll never match the two of us once we hatch a plot. Didn’t you say you had friends in the Chicago PD?”

  “Several,” Bryce admitted.

  “It’s time to call in the big guns, literally,” Seth added with a grin.

  “You’re not reacting the way I’d expected,” Bryce said admiringly.

  “It would be easy to curl up into a ball and hide under the covers, but I’m not going to be intimidated by that piece of shit. Now more than ever, I want to take charge of my life. You deserve someone who can match you, not drag you down.”

  “I’m starting to think you’ve got bigger balls than I do.”

  “No, that’s not true. Last time I checked, yours were bigger and a lot hairier, but I digress,” Seth joked. “Being with you has given me the confidence I never had. We make a good team, and I’ll be damned if Owen’s going to ruin it.”

  “We’ll get this figured out,” Bryce said, feeling like a cement block lifted off his shoulders. “I’ll make a few calls, but first I want a closer look at those balls to see if they haven’t doubled in size since the last time I was rooting around down there.”

  Stifling a laugh, Seth said, “Like a pig in search of truffles?”

  “That.” Bryce smiled broadly.

  Sounding exactly like Lady Mary from Downton Abbey, Seth intoned, “You should really consider a career in writing, sweetheart. You have such a way with words.”