Open House

by Mickie B. Ashling

  Snorting, Seth said, “Let me spell it out for you, Mr.…?”

  “Duncan.”

  “Right,” Seth acknowledged. “Before I asked you to look into the underlying cause of Mark’s suicide, on the off chance you might change your hard-core policy, I had a home. Older and in need of repairs, but a mortgage-free home in a very good neighborhood. Because of your ‘proper consideration,’ it was razed to the ground, and Mr. McFarland’s apartment, where I’m currently living, was almost destroyed. Now I have neither a home nor a check. Your inspector is a criminal who would have never entered my sphere of existence if you people had a better handle on your employees. Haven’t I suffered enough, Mr. Duncan, or does your company intend to twist the knife a little deeper, so you have one less thing to deal with?”

  Seth had stood in the middle of his rant and was leaning forward on the table, ready to throttle the gentleman who was looking more and more like a frightened field mouse and less like an intimidating executive.

  “Mr. Wilder,” Duncan exclaimed. “How dare you imply that our company is oblivious to your pain?”

  “How could I not think it?” Seth asked, narrowing his eyes. “You people have been less than forthcoming when asked what you intend to do about Owen Lightfoot. The list of damages Mr. McFarland and I have incurred is a mile long. Extortion, assault, attempted murder, arson. Shit, the only crime Lightfoot didn’t commit was burglary, and that’s because there was no cash on hand. What’s even worse is that the son of a bitch is still out there. God only knows what else he has planned for Bryce and me. And if you’re going to tell me you’re not responsible for an employee’s actions, or there’s no proof he did it, then guess again. We have all the proof we need, and Owen was on your payroll when he committed the crimes.”

  “About that,” the executive said, clearing his throat again. “We had no idea Mr. Lightfoot was involved in any illegal activities, and we would have dismissed him if any of this had come to light, however—”

  “However my ass! The bottom line,” Seth said, echoing Duncan’s earlier pronouncement, “is that you sent someone out here not properly vetted, and you’re going to have two lawsuits on your hand. One from me and one from Mr. McFarland, no ifs, ands, or buts!”

  Seth spun around and walked out of the office, leaving a chorus of protests behind. He was done for today and refused to listen to any more excuses. Let Osler deal with the insurance assholes.

  Bryce had been pacing outside the door, prohibited from being a part of the negotiation as he wasn’t Seth’s relative or legal partner. “Is everything okay?” he asked the minute Seth pushed through.

  “Not even close,” Seth said. “I’ll tell you in the truck.”

  Bryce nodded and put his arm on Seth’s shoulder. “Okay, let’s go home.”

  Home was Bryce’s apartment on the Gold Coast, one of Chicago’s most desirable zip codes. It had been three weeks since Owen—Bryce’s infamous ex and nefarious insurance inspector—had torched Seth’s house and set fire to portions of Bryce’s apartment. Fortunately, Bryce’s owning a construction business had paid off, and the apartment was deemed livable within a few days. Presently, they were camping out in the guest room, but renovations on the master bedroom were already underway.

  Seth’s house in Lincoln Park hadn’t fared as well. It lay in ruins, a pile of charred rubble, waiting to be bulldozed and carted away the minute his homeowner’s insurance gave him the okay. Fortunately, that policy was with a different company, and they had no problem forking over the money once the formalities had been observed. Their inspector had come and gone last week, conferring with the Chicago PD, reading the reports and examining the evidence that pointed to Owen Lightfoot as the arsonist. Seth had never been under suspicion, but steps had to be undertaken before he received full compensation. His innocence had been established quickly, everything was found to be in order, and a check had been cut and banked. Now it was time to make a decision—sell the empty lot or rebuild.

  His late partner, Mark, had intended for Seth to remain in the house, which he’d paid off a while back. Living off the income Seth made as a writer would be a lot easier if he didn’t have a mortgage or rent to deal with. Neither of them could have predicted how quickly Seth would fall into a new relationship. It had come as a complete surprise, and the invitation to move in with Bryce had been eagerly accepted for a multitude of reasons. As things stood now, selling the Lincoln Park home without rebuilding was tempting and far less problematic. Seth could bank the insurance money and whatever he received from the sale of the land and be done with it. But was it the wisest decision?

  Seth was virtually homeless at this point, and if he and Bryce didn’t work out, he’d be in the precarious position of trying to figure out where he would live. It made him feel more vulnerable than ever. Risking everything on one endeavor, albeit a sexy, kind, and generous one, was never a good idea. If he took the money and rebuilt, staying within budget, he’d have a mortgage-free home and something to fall back on if, God forbid, he and Bryce broke up. When their relationship moved on to the next level, and they were legally bound, they’d have some prime real estate they could either sell or rent out. Clearly, that was the better option but a lot more work.

  Bryce and his crew had helped Seth pick through the ruins when they were given the all clear, trying to salvage what little they could, which wasn’t much. Paperwork had survived in a steel filing cabinet, but all of Seth’s original cover art, framed for posterity, had been ruined by smoke, water, or a combination of both. Seth had cried through most of the cleanup, not so much for the bricks and mortar, but for the mementos he’d lost. Aside from the photos he’d stored on the cloud, there was absolutely nothing left to remind him of the man he’d shared a life with for twenty years. Mark would have been devastated.

  “So what happened in the meeting?” Bryce asked.

  Seth started and turned toward Bryce, who was frowning at him. He’d buckled up but hadn’t turned over the engine yet, more interested in hearing what transpired before heading home. Seth blinked a few times, figuring out how to break the bad news, knowing how Bryce would react. In the end he decided there was no easy way. “The assholes denied my claim.”

  “What in the fuck?”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Osler said it was a sure thing,” Bryce reminded him.

  “He did, but I guess the guy isn’t infallible.”

  “Now what?”

  “Hold that thought,” Seth said. He picked up his phone, called his attorney’s private line, and put him on speaker so Bryce could hear.

  “Doug Osler,” the attorney answered briskly. “Is that you, Seth?”

  “Yes. What the hell happened in there, Doug?”

  “They won’t relent, which is shocking, all things considered. We’re going with Plan B.”

  “Exactly what did you have in mind?”

  “What you said in the boardroom. We’re going to sue them for everything Owen did to both properties, along with extra compensation for mental and physical hardship.”

  “How much are we hoping to receive?” Seth asked out of curiosity. Not that he had any illusions about winning.

  “A million apiece and court costs.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Too little?”

  “Err… no. I’m a little stunned by those figures.”

  “You men deserve more for everything you’ve endured at the hands of their employee, but I want to ask for something we have every chance of receiving. Hopefully, this won’t get to court.”

  “You can tell them I have every intention of using whatever platform is out there to destroy their reputation if they don’t play ball. I’m not about to go down without a fight.”

  “Good to know,” Osler said. “I’m glad you’re not letting them intimidate you.”

  “I can’t change their rules on the death benefit, but I know my rights on everything else. None of this would have happened to Bryce
and me if Owen fucking Lightfoot hadn’t turned up like a bad penny.”

  “Agreed. Let me sit down with them and see what I can do.”

  “You’ll have to do a little better this time,” Seth reproved. “Or I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

  “Understood.”

  Seth disconnected and waited for Bryce’s reaction. When none was forthcoming, he asked, “What’s the matter?”

  “I hardly recognize you.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I broke down in tears?”

  “No,” Bryce said, starting the engine. “I’m having a little problem connecting the dots is all. The guy I fell in love with was a lot less aggressive.”

  Seth laughed ruefully. “Smoke and mirrors, sweetheart. I’m shaking inside.”

  Bryce abruptly turned off the engine, unbuckled, and reached for Seth. He held him in a tight embrace for several minutes before releasing him. “Do you hate me?” he asked, sounding broken.

  “What? Of course not!” Seth protested. “Why would you think that?”

  “I’ve failed you in so many ways.”

  “Stop it, Bryce. I keep telling you this isn’t your fault.”

  “My brain knows you’re right but my gut keeps saying I fucked up somehow.”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Seth said softly. “You had no control over any of it.”

  “I should have never pushed you to reopen the claim.”

  “You only agreed with my attorney, remember? Also, I had the final say. It’s not like you tied me to the bed and beat me into submission.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me to mind my own business,” Bryce said tersely. “I obviously suck at interpersonal relationships. This is why I’ve been alone for years.”

  “What have I told you about this ongoing pity party? It’s not attractive in the least bit.”

  “Sorry,” Bryce said gloomily. He started the engine and began the traffic-clogged trek home. “Shall I stop for food?”

  “I wouldn’t mind some Thai.”

  “Call in the order, babe.”

  Seth hit the saved number on his phone and placed an order for their favorite dishes. When he disconnected, Bryce asked, “Have you given any more thought to Thanksgiving?”

  The holiday had crept up on them without warning, given all the other recent events. It was only a week away and Bryce couldn’t put off calling his sister any longer. He usually joined her and her family, but Seth knew there would be an interrogation if Bryce brought a guest, and he wasn’t in the mood to be scrutinized by strangers, even if they were Bryce’s family. Seth was sure they’d bend over backward to be nice, given that Bryce had never once brought a friend home for the holidays, but he wasn’t in the right frame of mind. Perhaps next year. Bracing for an argument, he asked, “Would you be terribly upset if I declined?”

  “Not at all,” Bryce said. “I’m sort of relieved. But I will have to call her if you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “You know, Lil and Grier asked us over as well.”

  “Did they? That’s a little more appealing,” Seth admitted. “I won’t have to be on my best behavior since they’ve already seen me at my worst.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I was a wreck the night of the fire.”

  “For good reasons.”

  “Still….”

  “Shall I call them and accept?”

  “Sure,” Seth agreed. “It’ll be nice to get out of the apartment, and maybe we’ll get a chance to talk about the new house.”

  Bryce gave him a sideways glance. “What new house?”

  “I’ve decided to rebuild in Lincoln Park.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “Just now.”

  “I thought you were still weighing the pros and cons?”

  “Being homeless rather tipped the scales.”

  Belatedly, Seth realized he should have postponed his announcement. Bryce was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had faded to white.

  “You’re not homeless,” Bryce snarled. “Everything I own is yours if you want it.”

  “I appreciate the offer more than you know, but I would feel better if I had something with my name on the title. I can always sell it after we build.”

  They’d stopped in front of the restaurant and all conversations ceased while Seth ran inside to pick up their takeout order. As soon as he got back into the truck, the questions resumed.

  “Are you planning on moving out?” Bryce asked, pulling away from the curb.

  “Not at all.”

  “Then why go through all the bother? Building a house from scratch is not that easy.”

  “I would think it would be easy with you by my side,” Seth said. “And Lil did say he’d be more than happy to lend his and Grier’s expertise at a huge discount.”

  “He did say that,” Bryce admitted. “You sure this is what you want?”

  “I think so,” Seth said. “But I’ll give you my final answer after Thanksgiving.”

  More from Mickie B. Ashling

  The Open Series: Book One

  Seth Wilder lost his partner of twenty years to suicide two weeks before a long-anticipated cruise. Cancellation insurance was never purchased, and Seth can’t get a refund. Bryce McFarland, his late partner’s gym buddy, appreciates his predicament, and when asked, agrees to accompany him on the trip. This way, Seth recoups the money and doesn’t have to cancel his plans. The gesture is unexpected but accepted gratefully.

  The two men have nothing in common. Seth is a reclusive romance writer, and Bryce is a hard-core Grindr user with major commitment issues. Out of necessity and despite the seemingly insurmountable differences in personality, they develop a tentative rapport. As they begin their journey through the UK, Bryce helps Seth come to terms with his partner’s sudden death while Seth, in turn, discovers the root cause of Bryce’s phobia.

  Shipboard romances rarely work. Sensible men resist, sexual tension notwithstanding. But a full moon and late summer breezes lend themselves to the impossible situation, barriers are crossed, and a love affair is kindled.

  Olympic figure skater Emory Lowe falls in lust the moment he lays eyes on his new neighbor, hockey player Nikolai Vetrov. On the surface, Nik is a typical badass enforcer, intimidating and dangerous, on and off the ice. The only son of Ukrainian immigrants, Nik has been groomed from childhood to fulfill his father’s dreams of seeing him in the Hockey Hall of Fame. Igor guides his son toward that goal with a controlling—and abusive—hand, steering him clear of anyone who might ruin his chances.

  Although Emory is the US National Figure Skating champion, he’s in-your-face gay, and his audacious persona rubs Nik and his family the wrong way. Raised by supportive and loving parents, Emory is Nik’s polar opposite in every way but one—his desire to succeed. Underneath the fluff and glitter beats the heart of a fierce competitor, and this side of Emory’s personality begins to close the distance between the two athletes.

  While the attraction is one-sided in the beginning, Nik finds himself responding to Emory’s flirting. But before the incongruous pair have a chance at any sort of relationship, they must survive the pressures of career, separation, and most importantly, Igor’s ruthless homophobia.

  Polo: Book One

  Preston Fawkes is ten the first time he meets fifteen-year-old Konrad Schnell at the San Antonio Polo Club. Captivated by the mystique surrounding the sport of kings, Pres vows to learn the game at the hands of his newly acquired friend and mentor. The hero worship soon grows into something deeper, but the friends are separated when Preston goes off to boarding school in England.

  The relationship that follows is riddled with challenges―their age gap, physical distance, and parental pressure taking precedence over feelings yet to be explored. Although their bond goes deep, they deal with the reality of their situation differently: Preston is open and fearless while Konrad is reticent and all too aware of the social implications of
making a public stand.

  Their paths intersect and twine, binding them as tightly as a cowboy’s lasso, but fate may alter their plans. How will love overcome the divots in the turf as they gallop toward the future—one where obstacles no longer stand in their way?

  Bay Area Professionals

  Dr. Ethan Marshall is the young medical student on call the night Tessa Duran murders her husband for abusing her twelve-year-old-son, Rino. Ethan stays in the cubicle while the rape kit is performed and is surprised when the boy resorts to prayers instead of tears.

  Despite compelling evidence, Tessa is sent to jail for life. To avoid placing Rino in foster care, their parish priest agrees to raise him. Ethan is touched by Rino’s plight and visits whenever possible, but the connection is broken when the priest and young boy leave the area months later.

  Raised by the Dominicans in California, Rino considers joining the order until a romance blossoms with a fellow student. After much soul-searching, he turns his back on everything familiar, and chooses his orientation over his perceived vocation. Upon graduating dental hygiene school, Rino takes a job at the office of Scott Gregory and Robin Kennedy.

  Seventeen years have passed since that horrible night in the emergency room. Forty-three-year-old Ethan is now a Dominant in search of a full-time submissive. Twenty-nine-year-old Rino is adrift, longing for someone or something to help him find the serenity he’s lost along the way. As they rekindle their friendship, they realize they might be perfect for each other.

  In June of 1978, Grady Ormond, eighteen-year-old son of diplomat Peter Ormond, accompanies his father to his new posting as US Ambassador to Pakistan. Neighboring Iran is on the brink of a civil war, with the monarchy in danger of being overthrown.

  Grady will be leaving for New York City in late August to study cinematography and has been warned to keep his homosexual orientation tightly under wraps while on vacation. Repercussions in the predominantly Islamic region could be severe.