Finding Mr. Wrong

by Charlie Cochet

  "They're stunning," Matthew said, studying the sketches. The reproduction was exquisite, and he was already excited to see how Jax would bring it to life. On the left panel, the woman in flowing robes faced the right, while on the right panel, an equally beautiful female faced the left. The amount of detail in each piece was staggering, from their pinned-up hair with loose tendrils to the flowers and foliage. Matthew was in awe. He couldn't help his smile as he looked up at Jax. "You're incredibly talented, Jax."

  Jax shifted from one foot to the other, looking as if he didn't know how to take the compliment. Surely his clients had told him how amazing his work was.

  "Thanks." Jax cleared his throat. "So, um, which one should we go with?"

  Matthew didn't have to be asked twice. "This first set. I've seen the photographs as well. This design will fit perfectly with the rest of the decor, as well as the outside awning frame with all that gorgeous ironwork of trees and leaves."

  "You got it." Jax removed the sketch for the left panel, then took it over to a large table. He smiled at Matthew. "Time to get to work."

  "What comes next?" Matthew asked, unable to keep his curiosity at bay.

  "I'm going to start with the left panel, clean up the drawing and enlarge it full size, add any missing details. Then I'm going to reverse the image before I start prepping the glass."

  "I guess I should get out of your hair, then." Wow. Could he have sounded any more pitiful? Heading toward the door would probably help, but nope, he just stood there.

  Jax turned to him. "Why don't you stay for lunch? I was just going to grab some hoagies from the deli down the street. Their meatball marinara is pretty epic."

  "I don't want to distract you or get in your way." There was no need for him to stay. If Jax needed something, he would get in touch with Adam. Having lunch with Jax wasn't a good idea.

  "You wouldn't be in the way. I'm still in the preliminary stages, so I'm used to people watching me sketch. The real concentration happens during the glasswork. Stay. Have some lunch. We're going to be working together on this, so we should maybe talk a little, huh?"

  Matthew tried his best not to fidget. What exactly did Jax want to talk about? Matthew's first instinct was to make a run for it, but he held himself still. "Okay." This was why he'd come, wasn't it? To move forward? He found himself returning Jax's bright smile.

  "Great. I'm going to run down to the deli." Jax removed his goggles, then placed them on the table before heading for the door. "There's a small table and chairs near the back. Have a seat. I'll be back in a few."

  Matthew did as asked, finding the tiny square folding table at the very end of the studio, tucked in a small alcove beside a white refrigerator that looked like it belonged in the 1940s. His phone buzzed, and he removed it from his pocket. It was a text from Adam.

  How's it going? Jax still alive?

  Matthew smirked before responding: Yes, smartass. He's alive.

  Alive and gorgeous and sexy. It was best he leave that part out.

  And...? Adam texted back.

  And what? We're two professionals collaborating on a project. That's it.

  What exactly was Adam hoping would happen? Scratch that. Matthew knew exactly what Adam was hoping for, and it was not going to happen. Minutes passed, and Matthew figured Adam wasn't going to respond. His phone pinged, and he frowned at the screen.

  Enjoy your lunch.

  How...? Before he could respond, Jax called out from the doorway.

  "I'm back." Jax's grin was huge, and Matthew found himself smiling again. He really had to stop doing that. Jax sat the huge brown paper bag on the table, then removed a wrapped sandwich the size of Matthew's head.

  "Wow."

  "This is the small."

  Matthew gaped at him. "Jesus, what's the large look like, a torpedo?"

  Jax chuckled. "They know their subs." He reached into the bag and pulled out a bag of chips.

  Matthew was about to decline until he saw which chips they were. "Sea salt and vinegar Kettle Brand Potato Chips?" He almost hugged the bag to his chest. He tried not to drool. "Oh my God, I love these."

  "Yeah?" Jax sat down across from him. "Lucky guess."

  Matthew peered at him. Lucky guess his butt. "Hmm, that so?"

  "Yep." Jax held up his plain chips. "Figured if you didn't like them, we could swap. I like both."

  Darn, well, that made sense. The twinkle in Jax's blue-green eyes said something else; Matthew just wasn't sure what. The whole "lucky guess" explanation flew out the window when Jax placed a large Styrofoam cup in front of Matthew.

  "A chocolate milk shake?"

  Jax waggled his eyebrows, and Matthew laughed.

  "Adam?" Matthew asked, already knowing the answer.

  "I called him up and asked him about the chips. The milk shake I remembered."

  Right. Jax used to sneak out of school during lunch and come back with milk shakes for him and Matthew. Chocolate for Matthew and mint chocolate chip for Jax. After all these years, he remembered.

  "Thanks." Matthew unwrapped his sandwich just so he had something to do with his hands. A waft of meatball marinara smacked him in the face, and he was suddenly starving. Like he'd never eaten in his life. "This smells incredible." The bread was perfectly toasted, the provolone melty and gooey, and the marinara sauce looked mouthwatering.

  "It tastes even better," Jax assured him before he pulled off a chunk, the melted cheese stretching as he lifted it to his mouth. He closed his eyes and released a moan that had Matthew shifting in his seat. It was in his best interest not to sit gawking at Jax while he ate, even if Matthew could easily watch the man all day.

  Matthew studied his sandwich and tried to strategize an attack plan. There was no way his mouth was fitting around this thing. Maybe Jax had some cutlery around? Or he could tear it in half, well, quarters more like it. He felt like this sandwich should come with instructions.

  "Matty?"

  Matthew blinked up at Jax, not realizing Jax had been talking to him. "Oh, sorry. What were you saying?"

  Jax chuckled, his eyes lit up with amusement. "It's a sub, just bite down into it. It's going to be messy. Don't worry about it."

  Matthew nodded. Right. Just go for it. He hunched over his lunch and brought the behemoth to his mouth, opening as wide as he could, then bit down. An explosion of flavor filled his mouth, and he hummed in pleasure.

  "Right?" Jax said, laughing as Matthew pulled the sandwich away, a long string of cheese stretching, stretching, oh my God it was never-ending. Matthew was forced to put his sandwich down to tear the cheese. When he finally swallowed, he gazed at Jax reverently.

  "This is the best sandwich I've ever had in my life. Thank you."

  Jax winked at him. "Stick with me, kid. I'll learn ya a thing or three."

  Matthew blinked at Jax before laughing. Jax joined in, little creases forming at the corners of his beautiful eyes. His nose wrinkled just like it used to when they were kids, and Matthew couldn't stop from grinning like an idiot. Maybe spending time with Jax wouldn't be so bad after all.

  "SO how's it going?"

  Matthew moved his gaze to the chair across from him and narrowed his eyes. This was the fourth day in a row his father had come to see him at the office. He loved seeing his dad, but he also knew something was up, especially since his father wasn't one to show up at the office unless he was working on something with Matthew or meeting him for lunch.

  "How's what going?" Matthew asked, knowing exactly what his father was referring to.

  Martin shrugged. "Work. Life. You know, everything."

  Everything, huh? Matthew sat back and shrugged. His father was adorable. The man was ready to expire from his need to know how things were going with Jax. Which, for the last few weeks had been great. Matthew did his best to give Jax space and not hover as he worked. Jax was a picture of concentration when he was etching, and Matthew didn't want to do anything to mess with his mojo. So he dropped in three times a week, and th
ey had lunch in Jax's studio, where Jax would continue to shatter his little culinary mind with the most amazing sandwiches, hoagies, and pizza Matthew had ever feasted on. He patted his belly.

  "Does it look like I've put on weight?"

  Martin cocked his head, studying Matthew before nodding. "Yes, but in a good way. You were too skinny, Matthew. Eating nothing but salads all the damn time. You know how many times I wanted to sit you down and make you eat a damn steak?"

  "Really?" Had he been that skinny? As if reading his thoughts, his father nodded.

  "Matthew, you work long hours, are always the last to leave the office, and you don't eat properly. Half the time you're eating at your desk while answering emails, and Michelle says lately all you do is ask her to make you 'to-go' meals."

  Matthew gaped at his father. "You talk to my chef about my meals?"

  Martin narrowed his eyes. "You seem to be under the impression that because you're all grown-up that I'm going to just let you work yourself into the ground. We talked about this before I retired, remember? You promised me you would take care of yourself."

  Matthew couldn't argue. When he'd been working alongside his father, Martin had forced him to take time off, made him leave the office for lunch, made sure he ended each workday at a reasonable time, but now that his dad was retired, there was no one to make sure Matthew didn't work himself ragged. Well, he had Adam, but Matthew was his boss, so technically Matthew could be a stubborn bastard and ignore him.

  "I've been having lunch with Jax every week. I don't know how he has all those muscles, with all the carbs he eats," Matthew grumbled.

  "He's a strapping young man," Martin replied. "Probably works out a lot. Dario is thrilled with the progress, by the way. I haven't seen him this excited over a renovation in years. Jax is almost done with the left panel."

  Matthew nodded, well aware. "He's exceptionally talented. I'm surprised he's not booked from here until the next millennium. What he does is incredible and unique."

  "Perhaps he just doesn't have the right connections."

  His dad was probably right. It wasn't as if clients like Dario Esperanza advertised in the papers or online. Hart & Home had a directory of individuals and companies ready to recommend, should any of their clients need a job done outside of Hart & Home's services. It was all word-of-mouth, connections, people trusted to do the job well who offered complete disclosure. Without someone like Martin Hart to recommend Jax, there was no way Jax would have been hired.

  Matthew had to ask. "Before you hired him for this job, did you know he was in town?"

  "No, son. It wasn't until I was looking for an artist that I happened to come across him. The name sounded familiar. When I looked into it, I realized who it was." Martin's expression softened. "I overstepped, didn't I? I'm sorry, Matthew. I just thought--"

  "It's fine," Matthew promised, smiling at his father. Martin Hart was a good man, and an even better father. Matthew considered himself lucky. So many of his friends had either been sent off to boarding schools or had been raised by their nannies. Martin always made his family a priority. Matthew's mother had a photograph of Martin, a phone pinned between his shoulder and ear as he stood doing business, all while bottle-feeding a six-month-old Matthew cradled in his arms. "And you were right," Matthew admitted. "I needed to do this. To face Jax."

  Martin nodded. "I'm glad."

  There was a knock on the glass door, and Matthew motioned for Adam to enter.

  "Sorry to interrupt, but I have Jax on the line. He wanted to ask you something."

  "Put him through." Matthew ignored the butterflies in his stomach and his father's dopey grin.

  "I think I'll go bother Adam for a while," Martin said, then left before Matthew could say a word. His father and Adam whispered at each other. They were worse than a couple of old biddies.

  Matthew straightened, squared his shoulders, and reminded himself this was a business call. "Matthew Hart speaking."

  "Hey, Matty."

  The enthusiasm and smile Matthew heard in Jax's voice turned him into a puddle of goo. My God, you are ridiculous.

  "Hello, Jax. What can I do for you?"

  "I finished the left panel and thought maybe you'd like to come have a look at it before I get it all packed up."

  Technically, Jax could just email him pictures. Matthew could simply ask for pictures.

  Don't sound too eager. "I have a couple of things I need to take care of first." Don't say lunch. "How about around lunchtime?" Wow, you didn't even try, did you?

  "Sounds great. I'll see you then."

  "Great." What are you, twelve? Hang. Up. The. Phone. "Bye."

  Jax chuckled. "Bye, Matty."

  Matthew hung up the phone before dropping his head into his hands with a groan. "I am the biggest dork ever."

  "I'm sure I was way dorkier than you back in high school."

  Matthew glared at Adam. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

  Adam snickered. "Maybe just a teeny-weeny little bit."

  Bastards, the lot of them.

  Chapter Six

  JAX breathed in deep through his nose and let the breath out slowly through his mouth. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous, which was stupid. It was just Matty. Granted, it had been a long time, and Matthew was now a sophisticated millionaire, but they'd been thick as thieves once. They'd experienced their first kiss together. Matthew had been the first boy Jax had ever held hands with. The first boy he'd lost his heart to.

  Over the last few weeks while Jax worked on the Esperanza commission, he'd found himself looking forward to Matthew's visits, and a little part of him thought maybe Matthew did to. They'd shared several lunches together, where they talked about everything and anything. At first Matthew had been reserved, most likely trying to keep at a distance, but slowly Jax had coaxed the man out of his shell by tempting him with tasty food too good to resist. Yesterday when Matthew came over to the studio to see the finished panel, they had lunch, and the way Matthew's eyes sparkled when faced with the perfect slice of pizza was just adorable.

  Up until now, Matthew had come to Jax, so Jax figured it was time for him to come to Matthew. It had been eating away at him, the way they'd left things, and he knew underneath the smile and warm laughter, Matthew was still hurting. Jax wanted to change that. Of course the moment Jax stepped foot inside the building, he nearly spun on his heels and darted back out. The reception area was immaculate, grand, and expensive. It looked like an extravagant living room or luxury hotel lobby rather than an office reception area. The floors were marble, the color scheme made up of brown, gold, and cream hues. The furniture was obviously part of the Hart & Home collection.

  On opposite walls stood rich oak console tables with intricately carved drawers and gleaming gold vases displaying large bouquets of fresh white flowers. In the center of the room, two large brown couches faced each other, and to one side sat two expansive cream-colored ottomans, and on the other two cream-colored armchairs. Decorative pillows were propped against the couches' backrests, and a round, varnished coffee table with a large gold lamp completed the look. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling in the center of the room, and at the far end was a gorgeous, handcrafted reception desk. The woodwork was some of the most beautiful Jax had seen.

  It was funny, how he'd faced countless unsavory people in his lifetime and never backed down, yet the thought of facing Matthew scared the hell out of him. Squaring his shoulders, Jax approached the desk and smiled at the stunning woman behind it. She looked like she belonged in an old forties movie, with her red lipstick, long dark lashes, vintage-style blonde wave, and silk blouse, its large bow loosely tied. Her smile was dazzling, and her brown eyes friendly.

  "Good afternoon," she said cheerfully.

  "Hi, I'm, uh...." His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. Let's try this again without sounding like you've just hit puberty. "I'm here to see Matthew Hart."

  She looked him over, her expression cur
ious. "Do you have an appointment, Mr....?"

  "Jax. Jax Foster."

  Her big brown eyes went huge, and her mouth dropped open. Seeming to quickly get ahold of herself, she smiled wide and put up one perfectly manicured red nail.

  "One moment, please." Picking up her phone, she waited a second before speaking. "Adam, could you come to Reception please. Yes, now. Thank you."

  Crap. Were they going to throw him out? Had Matthew notified his security? Jax didn't see any guards around, but that hardly meant they weren't there. Had he crossed some line he shouldn't have crossed? They were probably watching him from their office. Jax knew Matthew was mad at him, but enough to kick him out for just stepping foot in his building?

  "Listen, it's not a big deal," Jax said quietly. "I can just leave this here with you and--"

  "No!" She almost fell out of her chair, scrambling to grab his wrist. Realizing what she'd done, she swiftly released him. Straightening her pristine blouse, she smiled brightly. "I mean, that's not necessary. Adam Cole is Mr. Hart's personal assistant."

  "Oh, okay." Jax relaxed. Marginally. He'd been talking with Adam since he was hired for the commission, but he had yet to meet the guy face-to-face.

  An elevator dinged somewhere close by, and soon after, a young man with floppy blond hair rounded the corner of the wall behind the reception desk. He looked more like a runway model than an office assistant. Jesus, was everyone who worked for Matthew stunningly gorgeous?

  Adam's trendy, figure-hugging outfit of navy trousers and white shirt looked like it cost more than the whole of Jax's wardrobe. He was petite, with a sparkling smile of perfect white teeth. His sleeves were neatly folded up to his elbows, an expensive leather wristband circled one wrist and a watch the other. His brogues were brown leather, his tie matched his pants in color, with the addition of trendy abstract pattern, and a silver tie pin held a tiny blue stone that looked remarkably like a diamond. Not one hair was out of place, not one wrinkle on his clothes. There was no doubt in Jax's mind that something scary lay under that pretty package. You didn't get to be the personal assistant to a man like Matthew Hart by being timid.