by Jaime Reese
“Bullshit. You wouldn’t do that.”
“I would if the junior person had potential.”
“Bullshit. You’d want the junior person to jump in and not be limited by what someone else teaches them.”
“For fuck’s sake, Vann. Pick something in the design department.”
“No. I’ll take the mailroom. You have an opening there.”
Drayton leaned forward, screwing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose so hard he was going to leave a permanent dent on his face. Vann had a creative gift, and there was no way in hell he’d let him shortchange himself. He was eventually going to be at Drayton’s side, helping him run the business, period. That was non-negotiable. Besides, he obviously already knew how Drayton thought and ran his business. But it appeared it would take a bit longer than he had hoped to convince Vann.
“Mail is important, Dray.”
“But—”
“Are you going to tell me the last ten years’ worth of letters weren’t important?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Drayton buried his face in his hands. “Do not work guilt into this equation. It’s a basic formula with a simple solution. You’re scared. You’re worried because you know it’s your design that was used for the first model release. And you’re worried I’ve got something up my sleeve.”
“Well…yeah. I know you. You have a plan. You always have a plan.”
Drayton dropped his hands and turned toward him. “I don’t have a secret agenda. It’s crystal fucking clear. I want you in the design department. And I want you to get comfortable there. And what I ultimately want is you running that department.”
“You’re out of your damn mind. There’s no way in hell I can do that.”
“Now I call bullshit. I know you can. That department is yours. Period. It’s your design that launched the company—”
“No, your motor did that.”
“It’s both. The motor I invented and the model you designed. We’re a team and this is our creation.”
Vann crossed his arms and scowled. “I want to work in the mailroom.”
“Fuck, you’re stubborn.”
“And yet, you want me to run an entire department. I barely fucking finished high school!”
Drayton jerked up from the porch bench. “Stand up.”
“What?”
“Stand the fuck up right now.”
Vann slowly stood, his movements cautious and hesitant.
Drayton planted his forearm across Vann’s chest and shoved him against the back wall of the house, pinning his body in place. “Don’t you ever fucking go there again. I don’t give a shit what everyone has told you your entire life. You. Are. Smart. And you can read people better than most. You read them as if they’re walking around with their life stories tattooed on their foreheads. You’re creative and you have more talent than the guy running the department right now. No one can teach that level of talent. So I don’t care how far a piece of paper says you went in school.”
“Don’t be mad at me,” Vann said in a quiet but level tone.
“Stop putting yourself down.”
“I’m taking the mailroom job. I have my reasons, and I need you to respect that.”
Drayton sighed, the fight leaving his body. Sometimes, he wished he could see into Vann’s mind. “What are your reasons?”
“Does it matter?”
“Do you want me to slam you against the wall again?”
“Actually, I kinda liked that. So go ahead.” A hint of something wicked sparked in those amber eyes.
Drayton groaned. “I’ve already got blue balls, so don’t torture me anymore. And don’t change the damn subject.”
Vann reached out and cupped Drayton’s face. He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. “I’m sure you keep your design team a bit isolated so they can work. Right?”
Drayton nodded.
“I’ve been isolated for a while already.” He sighed and lowered his brow as if trying to find the right words.
Realization finally dawned on him. “You want to be able to interact with more people.”
Vann nodded. “Everyone gets mail. So I’ll get to meet with more people if I’m in that department. It’s stu…silly, right?”
Drayton scowled, not missing the word that had almost slipped from Vann’s lips. “It’s not silly. And I get it.” He fucking hated a sensible argument he couldn’t anticipate. “Next time, lead the conversation with your reasoning.”
“Then I don’t get to see this pushy, dominant side of you I’ve missed.”
“I think you gave me another gray hair.”
“I’m kinda liking those too.”
Drayton planted his hands on his hips with a grunt.
Vann grabbed Drayton by the waistband of his slacks and tugged him closer. “You want things your way and so do I. We’re both just as stubborn as we were when we were kids. But I’ve changed.”
“You haven’t.”
A pained look crossed Vann’s expression. “I have. You might not see it but I feel it. Something in me broke, and I’m trying to figure out how to fix it. So I need you to be patient with me.”
“And I need you to not put yourself down. You’ve always been able to ignore what people say about you or turn it around.”
“I know.” Vann rested his head on Drayton’s shoulder and slid his arms around his waist. “I wish you could take me apart and figure out what’s wrong. Then put me back together and make me better.”
Drayton wrapped his arms around Vann’s shoulders and rubbed his nose in Vann’s hair. “And I know you well enough to know that’s one formula you need to solve on your own.” He held him close, reveling in the comfort and ease of just sharing the same space. “Whatever you need from me, just say the word and it’s yours.”
“I know. I just need some time to figure this out.”
“I’m not giving up. On you or us. So don’t you dare quit.”
“I won’t.”
“And you’re still going to head up the department someday. You have enough talent to do it. And we can always hire an assistant if needed.”
Vann scoffed.
“What?”
“You’re stubborn.”
“See? We’re a perfect match.” Drayton brushed his cheek against Vann, enjoying every second of intimacy he could steal.
“So I’ll take the mailroom job and you won’t argue with me about it anymore?”
Drayton sighed. “Yes…for now.”
“Thank you.”
Something had shifted in Vann that seemed to raise his guard and unsettle him. But as Drayton tightened his hold, he breathed a sigh of relief, confident that Vann was smart and determined enough to dissect things until he solved that equation on his own terms. And if he needed any help, Drayton would be right there standing guard at his side.
Vann pushed the mail cart out of the elevator and into the hallway. He nodded to a few of the other employees as they passed him.
Previous mail workers in the office had resided in the first level back room, receiving packages and sorting mail all day long. It was boring and monotonous. Worst of all, it was a waste of time. During his first week, Vann had set up text alerts for delivery updates for the major package deliveries and sorted out the mail for the various floors in the cart, choosing to hand-deliver the mail to each person. It gave him a chance to meet everyone and link the name on the mail to the actual person.
After spending so many years relying so heavily on Drayton’s letters, he wanted to respect each mail piece. It might seem silly to others, but making sure each delivery arrived safely in the hands of each recipient was paramount.
“Hey, Shaw.”
There were a few employees who couldn’t hide their curiosity about the new guy pushing a mail cart around the office and always found time to strike up a conversation. Connor Jacobson was one of them. He was easily in his late forties or early fifties and, based on the title Vann read on his addressed
envelopes, headed up the marketing department.
Vann had learned bits and pieces about each employee in the last two and a half weeks, either from office gossip or the company website. Connor had worked with Drayton for five years now and had risen up the ranks quickly. His passion for cars was obvious by the bazillion trinkets and posters in his office and the enthusiasm he exuded during his video interviews when he pitched the company or made a product announcement.
His love for cars was contagious and radiated from his never-fading smile. And his awe for Drayton always echoed in his tone. That earned the man points in Vann’s book. He reached into the cart and quickly retrieved the sorted group of envelopes for Connor. “Hello, Mr. Jacobson. How are you doing today?”
“Great. And I’ve already told you, call me Connor.” He pulled the rubber band from the group of envelopes and quickly scanned the mail, opening one of the envelopes as he spoke. “Vicky’s been eyeballing you. I think she’s recruiting members for your fan club.”
Vann couldn’t control the rising chuckle. Other than the handful of key staff members involved in his start at the office, no one had made the connection between him and Drayton.
“Hell, you’ve got most of the ladies on the floor whispering about you. I’m sure it’s an easy sell.”
He frowned. He hadn’t done anything wrong the last time he checked. “Why?”
Connor crossed his arms and smirked. “Maybe it’s the whole mystery-man vibe. Or maybe it’s the way the shirt fits you. Or maybe it’s the fact that you call them ma’am or take the time to chit-chat with them.”
He tugged on his shirt collar.
“Your arms, Shaw. Those guns scare off the guys but have the complete opposite effect on your future fan club members,” Connor added as if reading his thoughts.
Exactly the reaction he had hoped for while inside, but not now that he was out. He tried to pull down the edge of his polo shirt sleeves stretching across his bulging biceps, but the elastic quickly rode up his muscles again. “Sorry.”
Connor threw his head back and laughed. “I sure as hell wouldn’t be apologizing for that. You’re young and you have your entire life ahead of you. You only get one chance. Enjoy it.”
I’ve gotten a second chance.
Connor slapped the envelopes against Vann’s arm and chuckled, drawing his focus back to the present. He smiled as Connor walked away toward the elevators.
Vann pushed the mail cart to the different offices and cubicles, distributing the mail with a greeting or smile. He made it a point to address people by their name or ask a follow-up question about their kids, dog, or schoolwork if they had opened up about something the day before. He’d never had people openly chat with him about things. It was refreshing, and he welcomed it with open arms, relishing the personal relationships he’d never had, making it a point of remembering every tiny detail they shared with him.
He steered the cart toward Mia, rounding off the last two stops for the floor before returning to the mailroom. He preferred to wait to see Drayton last. “Hi, Mia.”
Her lips tightened, hiding a smile. “Hello, Shaw.”
“Is he behaving today?”
Mia finally let the smile slip. “Not today. He needs someone to cheer him up. He seems a little stressed.” She leaned forward on her desk, resting her weight on her forearms. “You’ve got about five minutes before his next meeting. Go on in. I need to run to the sixth floor to grab the materials for his other afternoon meeting.”
“Thanks.” He pushed the cart off to the side, out of view of the curious onlookers, then knocked twice, waiting for Drayton to respond.
“Come in.”
Vann sighed, feeling a flutter in his chest at the sound of Drayton’s voice. If Drayton needed a smile, then he damn sure was going to make that happen.
∞ ♥ ∞
Drayton rubbed his temples, hoping to ease the tension building into a monster headache. He could fake it with Taylor, but the truth of the matter was he needed to release a new model within the next year. He refused to be branded as a one-hit wonder after having fought so hard to finally establish the Shaw name in the industry.
This was their legacy. Vann’s and his…whether Vann knew it or not.
Too much was riding on this. If Sean couldn’t get a prototype ready with the team after all this time, then Sean was out.
Period.
He’d been given ample time to do his damn job. The motor was finished, tested, and ready to go. And the results and diagnostics proved it was stronger and faster than the original model. He refused to let anyone know the real power he had managed to engineer into the motor. He’d sit on that until the official reveal. That announcement was going to raise the bar and make front-page news in the automotive industry—assuming Sean could get a fucking prototype that could support the size and weight of the motor and still have the same stylish lines as the first model.
“Come in,” he snapped in response to the two knocks at the door. Maybe Sean was early for their meeting.
“I hear you need something that’s going to make you smile.”
Drayton looked up and the tension evaporated from his body as Vann neared.
He mindlessly stood and walked toward him. With only a step between them, he reached out and gripped Vann’s face, pulling him in for a kiss, angling his head and devouring his mouth like a desperate man. A moan escaped as a strong, thick arm wrapped around his waist and a firm hand held his jaw, caging him in place. He was lightheaded, giving in to Vann as they switched off between tender and fierce, neither one seemingly satisfied.
Drayton slowed the kiss, tugging Vann’s lip between his teeth as he inched back.
“It’s good to see you too,” Vann said, sucking in his lower lip as if still savoring his taste, never breaking eye contact.
Drayton groaned. “Fuck. Don’t do that.” He combed his fingers through his hair, flattening the sides in hopes of appearing somewhat presentable.
Vann chuckled and reached out, fixing the hair just above Drayton’s ears and temples. “You’re perfect. Stop fussing.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t want anyone to know about us.”
“I’m not ashamed of us.” Vann frowned. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks and looked away.
“I know. You want to earn your place, and you want people to respect you for you not because you’re with me.”
Vann glanced back at him with a sad smile. “That’s…silly. Right?”
“No. Not at all. It’s actually really smart. I don’t think a lot of people like me here. So you’re doing yourself a favor.” Drayton sighed.
“They don’t know you.”
“They’d probably hate me.”
“They won’t. You’ve got some great people here who love their job and get along. They just don’t know you. You stay cooped up in this office. Even your board meetings are in here. You’re the first to arrive and probably the last to leave.”
Drayton stepped away, returning to his desk. “If they hate the boss, they’ll leave.”
“And if they love their boss, they’ll stay, be loyal, and want to put in the most they can.”
Drayton sighed. “Vann—”
“No, you’re going to listen.” Vann walked up to him and placed a hand on his chest. “Let them see the Dray I see. This isn’t high school where you’re going to get bullied around, and no one’s going to try to muscle you into doing their homework. Some of these people are in awe of you. They respect you because of your mind and how you’ve changed things in the industry. They want to be a part of that. They don’t hate you. I’m sure some people are afraid of you—”
“Why would they be afraid of me?”
“Because you’re the boss who doesn’t know them and can fire them in a heartbeat.”
“I wouldn’t fire someone without cause. Besides, I don’t like the thought of leaving someone without an income.” He couldn’t help the way his mind always went back to
Vann when they were kids, and how much he’d struggled without the financial stability.
“And if they knew you, they’d know that about you. Go out. Interact with them. I think they’d love you if you gave them a chance.”
“I’ll…think about it.”
Vann scoffed and stepped away. “Sure you will.”
“We’ve got our weekend coming up.”
“Smooth subject change.”
Drayton smiled.
“I’ll make you a deal.”
Drayton leaned his hip against the edge of his desk. He loved the way Vann’s mind worked. “I’m listening.”
“You interact with a few people. A few people you don’t normally interact with, and I’ll blow you for each new person you meet.”
Drayton threw his head back and laughed. His laugh lessened to a chuckle then he sighed, enjoying the grin on Vann’s face. “You’re going to blow me anyway.”
Vann shrugged. “True. But I’ll work extra hard,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.
“How will you know?”
“Are you kidding? I’ll hear about the mysterious boss man sighting. I can promise you that. Concrete floors can’t slow down office gossip.”
Drayton crossed his arms. He never really did well with people. And he wouldn’t deny he used his company muscle and reputation when needed, but he tried not to abuse it.
“Just try it out, Dray. You won’t regret it.”
He didn’t have a chance to respond when his office door flung open. He pushed off his desk at the sight of Sean with an undecipherable expression on his face.
Vann turned, lowering his brow.
“Who are you?” Sean asked in an odd tone.
“Well, aren’t you a little ray of darkness?” Vann crossed his arms and squared his broad shoulders.
Drayton cocked his head, remembering Taylor’s comments and…suggestion for a speedier prototype development. “Sean,” he said, waiting for the visual daggers shooting from Sean’s eyes to cease. “Tread carefully.”