Fortune's Slings and Cupid's Arrows

by Ari McKay

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Exclusive Excerpt

  More from Ari McKay

  About the Author

  By Ari McKay

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  Fortune’s Slings and Cupid’s Arrows

  By Ari McKay

  Lawyers in Love

  Successful attorneys Dane Coulter and Cal Monroe are rivals in the courtroom and friends behind the scenes. But can they be more?

  Cal’s always carried a torch for Dane, but Dane is so deep in the closet, he can’t even admit that he might be gay. His father, a raging homophobe who rules the family with an iron fist, forces Dane into an engagement—to a woman. Dane goes along with it to keep the peace and protect his mother, but for Cal, it’s the last straw.

  He can’t let Dane make a mistake that could ruin the rest of his life, and he only knows one surefire way to make Dane admit what’s in his heart. But confessing his feelings to his friend could backfire, driving a wedge between them. And even then, the choice must be Dane’s—to live the life his father wants, or to give up everything he has for a chance at happiness in Cal’s arms.

  Chapter One

  CAL MONROE whistled as he poured a glass of orange juice, then retrieved his bagel when it popped up from the toaster. He spread on a thick layer of low-fat cream cheese before carrying his plate and glass into the living room of his condo, where the television was tuned to CNN. The Sunday edition of the New York Times was waiting on the coffee table, and he lowered himself onto the leather sofa with a contented sigh to begin his typical Sunday morning ritual: a light breakfast and a quick catch-up of the news before he set out for a nice long run around Central Park. The other six days of the week were filled with all the rewards and challenges of being the senior partner at one of New York City’s most prestigious law firms, but Sunday was the day when he could relax and catch his breath before diving back into the high-stress world of corporate law.

  Thirty minutes later, however, his sense of contentment had vanished. He stared in disbelief at the article that dominated the society pages, gushing that Dane Coulter and Portia Blueblood-Hyphen-Snob were officially announcing their engagement with a formal celebratory ball to be held on Valentine’s Day. The large color photo of the couple showed a slender blonde woman standing close to blond-haired, brown-eyed Dane, who looked more like a cornered animal than a man thrilled about getting married.

  A string of curses escaped Cal, and he raked his fingers through his auburn hair in agitation, unable to believe Dane hadn’t warned him. He drew in a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. Dane didn’t owe him any explanations. They were friends, nothing more, and Dane had it hard enough with his Machiavellian asshole of a father trying to control every aspect of his life. In fact, this engagement had Randolph Coulter’s fingerprints all over it. The old bastard ruled his family with an iron fist. He’d been the one to decide where Dane went to college and what he majored in, and then, of course, there was no question that Dane would become the junior partner in Randolph’s law firm—whether Dane wanted to or not.

  And Randolph hated Cal. They’d gone at each other in court plenty of times, but it was Cal’s open homosexuality and his work on marriage equality that really angered Randolph. He’d even referred to Cal as a “damned queer” in front of a reporter, an observation that had made it into the local news, and the negative backlash Randolph had suffered, including losing several big accounts, had only made him hate Cal more. Refusing to end their friendship was the only time Cal had seen Dane disregard his father’s wishes, for all the good it had done. In an uncharacteristic display of temper, Cal wadded up the paper and threw it at the window.

  He got to his feet and paced in agitation for several minutes before deciding to take a shower. A run wouldn’t improve his mood, but maybe talking to Dane would. If he could be certain this was what Dane really wanted, he would accept it. Maybe it had been love at first sight, and Dane hadn’t wanted to tell him. Right, and maybe a winged pig would go cruising past his high-rise window any moment now. Dane was as gay as Cal was himself, even if he was in denial about it. Now it was up to Cal to convince his friend to take a stand before Dane made a mistake that would ruin his life.

  And as much as he wanted to be unselfish about it, Cal had to admit it would ruin his life too.

  DANE STARED at the announcement, feeling so removed from his own engagement that it might as well have happened to someone else. The announcement was large and attention-grabbing, just like his father wanted it to be.

  Randolph Coulter had been trying to repair his reputation ever since he’d insulted Cal Monroe during an interview. He was rich enough that not many doors would close to him outright, but several prestigious accounts had moved from Randolph’s firm to Cal’s as a result, and a few people had cooled toward him. Randolph couldn’t stand to lose anything, and Dane suspected his engagement and subsequent wedding would be co-opted to help Randolph lure those people back into his social circle.

  Portia’s smile seemed genuine in their engagement photo, but Dane thought he looked awful, probably because all that had been going through his mind when the picture had been taken was a litany of “shit shit shit.” He didn’t look at all like a happy groom-to-be, but how could he when this engagement felt like another bar being added to his cell?

  He pushed the newspaper aside and looked down at the plate of cold eggs, bacon, and toast, and then he pushed that aside as well. His stomach was in knots—more so than usual. His doctor had warned him he was on his way to developing an ulcer, but trying to reduce the amount of stress in his life was a futile act as long as Randolph was around.

  His cell phone rang, and relief flashed through him when a glance at the screen showed it was Portia calling, not Randolph. He picked it up and answered.

  “Good morning, Dane.” Portia’s voice was smooth and calm as always, and Dane was grateful she didn’t sound like a giddy bride. “Have you seen the paper?”

  “I’m looking at it right now,” he said, picking up the society section again. “What do you think?”

  “It’s a little more… ostentatious than I expected,” she said, seeming to choose her words with care.

  “That’s my father for you. Go big or go home is his motto,” Dane said, and Portia chuckled.

  “I’ll have to speak with him at lunch today. Just because I agreed to let him help plan the wedding doesn’t mean I want it turned into a three-ring circus.”

  “Good luck with that,” Dane said dryly.

  “I’ve dealt with men more stubborn than your father,” Portia said. “But it would be nice to know you’ll have my back.” She paused, and when Dane didn’t reply, she pressed him. “You will, won’t you?”

  Dane released a slow breath, knowing that was a promise he might not be able to keep. “Father isn’t accustomed to not getting his way, especially where I’m concerned,” he said. “But I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s all I can ask,” Portia said, her voice infused with warmth. “I’ll see you later. You’re picking me up?”

  “Yes, I’ll be there.”

  After the call ended, Dane put his phone aside and stared at the photo again, lost in thought until a knock on the door interrupted his brooding. It was a short, impatient rapping, as though whoever was outside was agitated. Dane frowned as he stood up and headed for the door. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and he hoped it wasn’t Ra
ndolph stopping by to subject him to a litany of all the ways the article had failed to live up to Randolph’s expectations. The knots in his stomach tightened as he opened the door and braced himself.

  Instead of his father, however, he found Cal Monroe on his doorstep, and he barely kept himself from sagging with relief. Cal was a tall, broad-shouldered man who wouldn’t look out of place tossing cabers at a Highland Games, complete with a kilt. But Cal had a keen mind to go with his burly frame, and he was a fair-minded employer who created an atmosphere of open-mindedness and respect at his firm. Unlike Coulter and Coulter, Caldwell and Monroe rarely saw employee turnover, and Dane wouldn’t have been surprised if there were far more applications for new positions at Cal’s firm as well.

  Dane had always admired Cal’s courage and strength in standing up for his principles. Cal was passionate and dedicated to making the world a better place, and he wasn’t afraid to show the world exactly who he was. Unlike Dane.

  They’d met a little over two years ago while serving on opposite sides of a case. Randolph had wanted Dane to take a more aggressive stance, but Dane’s instincts led him to accept Cal’s offer to work out a compromise through arbitration. In the end, both clients were satisfied with the outcome, and Dane and Cal established a cordial professional relationship that grew into friendship after Randolph moved Coulter and Coulter into the same building occupied by Caldwell and Monroe. Dane kept running into Cal in the elevator, in the lobby, or at lunch, and the more they talked, the more attached—and attracted—he grew to Cal Monroe.

  Randolph had tried to bully Dane into severing all ties with Cal, but for once, Dane refused. Cal’s unconditional friendship gave Dane the stability he desperately wanted and offered him a respite from the isolation Randolph imposed on him through constant professional and familial demands. Cal’s friendship was one of the few normal aspects of Dane’s life, and he attributed Cal’s concern and support to helping him see clearly the bars of the cage he was trapped in at last. He was unable to escape the cage, but he knew it was there and tried in small ways to push the bars back, if only a little.

  Cal’s thick auburn hair was mussed, damp with melting snow because he’d apparently forgotten a hat, and his green eyes looked shadowed for once, rather than bright with good humor. Instead of his usual tailored suit, he was wearing faded jeans, black boots, and a black leather jacket that made his shoulders seem even broader. He regarded Dane in silence for a moment, his gaze intent on Dane’s face, as though he was searching for something. Then he gave a crooked smile. “Hey.”

  “What are you doing here?” Dane asked as he stepped aside to let Cal in. “Aren’t you supposed to be running circles around the park right about now?”

  The smile faded from Cal’s face as he moved past Dane into the living room. Dane had seen Cal in court before, and he recognized the set of his shoulders from when Cal was preparing himself to argue a difficult case. “I saw the paper. Somehow the thought of running pointlessly around in circles after that seemed particularly ironic.”

  Dane gestured to the gray leather sofa, which was a designer piece in the same stark, modern style as everything else in his apartment. Randolph had set him up in the place after he finished law school and began working at the family firm. Dane hadn’t even gotten to decorate; instead, Randolph hired an interior decorator to make the apartment look the way Randolph thought it should look. There was a lot of gray, white, and stainless steel, and it felt like a showplace rather than a home to Dane. He hadn’t bothered to personalize the place, not even with photos, because Randolph would have criticized him for “ruining” the decor.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said as he sat down on one end of the sofa.

  Cal took off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly over a chair before taking the other end of the sofa. But he turned his body toward Dane, and the expression on his face was almost imploring. “I have to know if this engagement is really what you want.”

  Cal was his best friend, and Dane couldn’t lie to him. Besides, Cal knew how controlling Randolph was, so the truth shouldn’t come as a surprise.

  “Father thinks it’s time I got married,” Dane said, clasping his hands together tightly. “He thinks Portia is a good choice.”

  “I don’t give a damn what your father thinks, and he can go to hell,” Cal replied. He sighed, then scooted closer to Dane so he could rest his hand on Dane’s shoulder. “I care about what you think. You’ve never mentioned this woman’s name. Not once.”

  Dane knew he ought to shrug off Cal’s hand, but he didn’t want to. He needed the comfort of Cal’s solid strength even though Cal’s touch made him feel things he shouldn’t.

  “We haven’t known each other long,” Dane said. “She’s a cardiologist. Originally from some ridiculously wealthy family in Texas. She moved here because of a job opportunity. Father presented me with a list of candidates, and she seemed like the best one.”

  The truth was, Dane had chosen her because she was thirty-two, which meant she was only two years younger than him instead of ten to twelve years younger like the others on the list. She was also focused on her career, and she’d admitted to Dane she had only considered the match because it was easier than carving time out of her busy and erratic work schedule to try to meet people.

  Cal looked stunned. “A list? Really? You’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone you picked off your father’s list?”

  “Why not?” Dane gave an insouciant shrug. “I haven’t found a wife on my own. She’s a nice woman from a good family. I’m sure we’ll do fine together.”

  And maybe if he said it often enough, he’d start to believe it himself.

  “You would settle for doing fine with a nice woman?” Cal’s voice was low and husky. “You deserve so much more, Dane. You deserve passion. You deserve… love.”

  Dane swallowed hard against the tightness in his throat. He wanted love, but he’d known he could never have it since he was twelve years old and first realized he was gay. For years, he’d tried to convince himself that he was bisexual, but he wasn’t. He could have sex with women, but he didn’t desire them. Eventually, he’d stopped trying to talk himself into enjoying sex and avoided the issue by focusing on his job rather than his social life.

  “I’m his only son,” Dane said softly, turning his gaze down to his white-knuckled hands. “The only child, really, since Ellen and Karen cut ties with him. It’s up to me to carry on the Coulter name.”

  Cal’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “Your sisters were lucky to get out when they did. You don’t owe that old man a damned thing just because he happened to donate an ounce or two of semen to your conception. He hasn’t given you anything but grief about it since the moment you were born.” Cal drew in a deep breath, and Dane got the feeling he was reining himself in from saying more about Randolph. “It’s up to you to do what you can to find happiness, like your sisters have. Even if you have to fight for it.”

  Dane tried to imagine what would happen if he called off the engagement, and the thought of Randolph’s explosive wrath followed by relentless grinding as Randolph tried to force Dane back in line made Dane shudder. He’d learned early in life that it was better for him to keep his head down and go along with whatever Randolph wanted.

  The only time he’d ever gone against Randolph’s wishes was in remaining friends with Cal. But as much as Randolph harped at him about it, Dane refused to give up Cal. Sometimes when he was with Cal, he felt strong, felt like he could take control of his life. But reality set in soon enough, reminding him that he had little control over anything except his cases, which was one more reason he devoted himself to his job.

  Part of him envied his sisters. They were probably better off. He didn’t know because he hadn’t seen them in years, but he hoped it was true. If nothing else, they were free of Randolph, and that alone had to make being disowned worthwhile. But Dane couldn’t bear to think of leaving his mother without an ally. Diana C
oulter had already lost two children because of Randolph, and if Dane got himself disowned as well, she would have no one.

  “I can’t,” he said, unable to look at Cal when he said it. No doubt Cal would consider him weak and spineless, and he didn’t want to see disappointment—or worse, disgust—in Cal’s eyes.

  Cal was quiet for a moment, and then he moved his hand from Dane’s shoulder. Dane felt Cal’s fingers under his chin, gently urging his head around. There was neither disgust nor disappointment in Cal’s green eyes; instead Cal looked hesitant, which was unusual.

  “Can’t you?” he asked softly. “Even though you could have anyone you wanted? Even if you could have… me?”

  Dane’s heart lurched with something he didn’t dare let himself feel: hope. If he broke the engagement with Portia to be with a man, Randolph would make his life miserable. If he broke the engagement to be with Cal, Randolph would make his life pure hell.

  “Things aren’t that simple, and you know it,” he said, drawing back from Cal. “I can’t fight him. I don’t even know how. All my life I’ve tried to be the good son he wanted and to make as few waves as possible so he’d be happy.”

  “Even though it makes you miserable? Why does his happiness matter so much more than your own? He doesn’t see you as a separate person, just an extension of himself. He doesn’t care if you’re happy so long as you toe his line.” Cal paused and drew in a deep breath, his green gaze warm and tender. “He doesn’t love you, Dane. But I do.”

  Dane gaped at Cal, stunned by the confession. He’d thought Cal saw him as nothing more than a friend, which had helped keep his own burgeoning feelings for Cal at bay. But now he was being offered what he wanted most, and he didn’t know what to do.

  “I had no idea,” he murmured.

  Cal smiled crookedly. “I knew you weren’t ready to hear it. I’ve been going slow. Maybe too slow.” His smile faded. “But it’s true. I love you, Dane. When I saw that picture of you in the paper, I felt like I’d been stabbed in the heart. If you loved her, if you really wanted to be with her, I wouldn’t have said a word. But you don’t, and I wanted you to know how I feel before you do something you can’t take back. You have a choice.”