by Myra Scott
“That sounds pretty bad. Are they all okay?” I asked her.
“Oh, yes. My coworker, Nikki, told me all three teens were brought into the clinic after the Fish and Wildlife officers rescued them. They were awfully cold from being in that chilly water, but otherwise they’re fine. I wish I’d been on duty, though. I would’ve given them a little talk about responsibility and safety,” she huffed. “You know, I’m so glad you weren’t silly like that when you were a teenager.”
“Yeah, I was pretty boring,” I chuckled.
“Boring? Oh, no! Not boring. Just very responsible. Very smart. You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders. Ever since you were a tot,” she gloated. I rolled my eyes.
“Thanks, Ma. By the way, I used that citrus-y soap you gave me this morning.”
“Did you?” she gasped, clearly ecstatic. “Was it alright?”
“It was wonderful. Very nice scent,” I complimented her. I could almost hear her smiling through the phone.
“Good, good! I used a lot of that orange oil I got from the apothecary shop downtown. Should keep you smelling nice all day long. In fact, maybe it’ll attract some handsome young man who will ask you on a date or something,” she said pointedly.
I took a deep breath, exasperated. “Ma, I’m not looking for a date,” I said.
“I know, I know, you’re busy and everything. But wouldn’t you like to have a special someone to relax with on your days off?” she pushed.
“I’m not exactly the world’s most eligible bachelor,” I told her. “I work too much. I don’t go out. And with this damn scar on my cheek, nobody would even look at me twice.”
She clucked her tongue. “Oh, sweetie. That scar doesn’t take away from how handsome you are. Not one bit. In fact, you should wear it as a badge of honor. If you hadn’t rushed into that burning house, that little girl wouldn’t be singing in the school choir nowadays. She came to my neighborhood trick-or-treating last year, remember? She’s doing so well, and it’s all thanks to you, Casey.”
“I don’t get special accolades for doing my job,” I said gently. “I did exactly what anyone else would’ve done in my position.”
Ma snorted as though I’d said something truly ridiculous. “Nonsense. You’re the bravest man at that station, hands down. You know, I worry about you, dear. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am so proud of you and the work you do. But every time you run into a burning building, I just think… oh, what if the worst happens?”
“I know, Ma. I know,” I sighed. “But I’m cautious. I swear.”
“Good. You better be. You men and your dangerous jobs,” she teased. “Always got to be saving lives and making a difference in the community.”
“Oh, as if you don’t make a difference as a nurse,” I said, smiling warmly. I decided to really brighten her day, and added, “You know, you’re more of a hero than I am.”
She giggled and murmured, “Oh, stop it.” I knew she was just tickled pink.
By now, I was about to pull into the parking lot of the fire station. I was about to tell my mom goodbye when she suddenly asked, a little stiffly, “So, honey… have you talked to your father lately? You know, just to check in and all that.”
I parked the truck and tried to keep my composure. “No. I haven’t. But he’s a busy guy, like I am. He’d call me if he wanted to talk,” I said shortly.
“Well, you know he’s a little stubborn, but I’m sure he’d love to hear from you,” she suggested, albeit half-heartedly.
My parents were divorced, but they were still on pretty good terms. Their split was mutual and about as civil as could be. They didn’t hate each other by any means, but they didn’t work well together, either. Still, my mother was dead set on my maintaining a good relationship with him. I was not the sort of guy to go chasing after anyone’s affections or approval, though. If he wanted me in his life, he’d put me there. It was simple as that, even if my mom didn’t agree.
“Sure, Ma. I’ll give him a call sometime,” I promised vaguely. “Listen, I’m at the station now. I have to go.”
“Oh. Alright then, sweetie. Be careful today. I love you,” she said.
“Love you, too,” I said quickly, and hung up. I heaved a sigh. I couldn’t wait to clock in and start working—anything to distract myself.
CHAPTER FOUR - LUKE
The sound of a new bottle of wine splashing into a crystal-clear glass is sometimes better than anything else at the dinner table. I could tell by the looks on the faces of everyone in the group that we all felt the same, as the waiter filled my glass with the rich, ruby red liquid of the Cabernet Sauvignon, then moved to each of the other men to do the same.
“I’m holding you to your word on this one, Luke,” Diego said with a wry smile as the waiter filled his glass. “And I don’t do that often, but you’ve made a believer out of Zane, so I’ll go out on a limb.”
Zane rolled his eyes and winked at me, but I just smiled at both of them. Usually, Diego insisted on drinking only Spanish wine while out to dinner, but I’d convinced the table to try an Argentinian red that I was fond of. I had good judgment in wines, and I wasn’t ashamed to show that off.
Our large group sat at a round table at a high-end steakhouse not far from the Strip that all of us liked to use for business meetings. Tonight wasn’t so much a business meeting as it was a celebration, though. We were out congratulating ourselves on a stunning quarter, and we knew the bonuses were well worth the effort.
But god, what a night to feel single.
I sat next to Zane and Diego on one side, the married pair dressed to kill and looking like a power couple that could shake the whole Strip if they wanted to. Mick and his husband Eric sat to my right, still dressed nicely, but Eric preferred going more casual whenever possible, and we were all close enough friends that nobody cared much. Especially given that Bart and Nico, who sat furthest from me, were nearly dressed in casual outfits. Bart was the head of security, and Nico was a former sex worker, and the latter was more than happy to dress however his husband liked. Gage and Devin were there and wrapped up in their own little world whenever someone wasn’t talking to them, as usual, but it never felt like they were excluding themselves from the group. They were just close, and if there was one thing they never tired of, it was talking to each other at a mile a minute.
In fact, I was the only single guy at the table, except for one other—the odd one out of the group. His name was Bryce Duncan, and he looked about as high class as his name made him sound. Hair coiffed to the side, a sharp nose, thin lips, and narrow frame gave him a wiry look, but he was one not to be underestimated.
Rodney, one of the Sentry’s most prominent and brilliant lawyers, was here with his date, but I knew that he went through dates like water. There was no shame in that—I certainly wasn’t one to judge with my habit of hookups. For Rodney, it was all about appearances, simple as that. And I had to admit, he had good taste in dates.
“Well, if we don’t like it, we can always send it back and get some proper Spanish wine,” Bryce piped up, always quick to suck up to just about everyone at the table, given half the chance. Bryce and I used to work together when we were assistants, but from what I’ve heard, Bryce graduated to middle management on the office side of things behind the scenes at the Sentry. I didn’t recall him being that helpful of a coworker, but office culture was a nasty beast sometimes that put strange people in high places.
Still, Bryce had always been the type to needle at others he thought he didn’t have to suck up to, and it got annoying sometimes. I looked across the table and caught Nico’s gaze, and the two of us smirked knowingly. At least I could count on some of the other guys at the table to be more down to earth.
“I have to admit,” Diego said after taking a thoughtful sip, “I don’t think that will be necessary. Good choice, Luke.” Zane nudged me approvingly as the others a
t the table echoed the sentiment, and we all broke out into smaller conversations amongst ourselves.
“Diego and I have been meaning to take a vacation to South America,” Zane offered as we perused the menu. “So, he’s been opening his mind a little in terms of wines.”
“Don’t make me sound like a sellout!” Diego chided Zane in his accented English, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Chile and Argentina are hard to beat on this side of the world,” I said. “They easily compete with Mediterranean wines at a fraction of the cost over here.”
“He’s got you there, Diego,” Zane said, chuckling before he turned back to me. “We always stock up as much as possible when we visit his family in Spain. We’re terrible.”
“That’s the way to do it, though,” I agreed. “I did the same thing last time I got time for a visit to Italy.”
The waiter came around to take our steak orders, and as he made his way around the table, I couldn’t keep a smile off my face at the sight of everyone getting along so well together. The Sentry was run by an ever-growing group of powerful people, and it was rare for all of us to get together like this and be at ease.
It almost felt like a shame to bring up business in a relaxed atmosphere like this.
But I had a big announcement to make, and I wasn’t about to let it go to waste.
That secret that I told Zane to expect was finally coming to fruition. After some long talks on the phone with agents and some of the accounting people who could keep a secret, I was ready to bring it up to the other heads of the casino and see what they thought. It was a risk, but it was a measured one.
And without measured risks, you never got anywhere in life.
It was a little embarrassing, but I had a few notecards in my suit’s jacket pocket for me to look over, but I’d been reciting everything in my head for the past few hours, to the point that I thought I could go without the notecards.
“Nobody ordered their steak well done, did they?” Bart asked with a suspicious glare at all of us as the waiter finished up and departed. “I’d hate to have to ask one of you to leave.”
The table met his joke with a round of laughter, but even as Bart chuckled, he added, “I’m only half-joking.”
I carried on the conversation about world travels with Diego and Zane, but I caught snippets of other conversations going on around me. Nico and Eric were entertaining the others with some stories from their time as sex workers—Eric used to be a professional dom. Mick and Devin shared stories of bad therapists they had when they were younger. Rodney was talking with Gage about some blowhard guest who tried to sue the casino over something petty. All in all, it was a laid-back, friendly atmosphere.
By the scents in the air, I could tell that the steaks were nearly done, so I decided that this would be a good time to make my announcement. But rather than make it a formal kind of thing, I’d take the more relaxed route and propose a toast.
I made sure the third bottle of wine made its round, then stood up, tapping my glass with my fork just lightly enough to get everyone’s attention.
“If you don’t mind,” I said, smiling around at everyone, “before we start tearing into some of the best cuts of beef Las Vegas can offer, I’d like to propose a toast.” Everyone in good spirits took their wine glasses in hand, their eyes following me with good cheer and just a little bit of tipsiness. I held my own glass up and cleared my throat. My heart was pounding fast, but I didn’t show any of the nervousness I felt.
“It’s been five years that I’ve had the very good pleasure of working with you all, and five years that I’ve grown and learned more than I ever hoped I could have.” I watched the smiles on Zane and Mick’s faces grow, and Zane even looked a little misty-eyed. Hard as he was, he liked playing mentor, even though I was well beyond protégé by now. “I had no idea this job would evolve into such a thriving career with the finest men I’ve ever met, and I know that we all feel the same about each other.” Many of the men looked to each other with admiration, friendship, or love, and I felt my heart swelling.
“The success we’ve achieved this past quarter is something we couldn’t have done without working together as well as we do,” I said. “It’s as simple as that. And I was raised to believe that hard work should be rewarded with hard play.”
“I like where this is going,” Bart interjected crassly, and we all laughed at the joke before I went on.
“Close, but not quite. I’ve had a secret project under wraps that I think now would be a good time to uncover, in celebration of everything we’ve accomplished.”
Zane beamed at me, and the men sat forward in their chairs in anticipation.
“I have a major concert in the works,” I said proudly, “to be held in the Sentry Casino, performed by none other than the locally acclaimed rock band, The Devils’ Tongues.”
“Fuck, yeah!” Devin blurted, his face lighting up, and the group laughed as everyone exchanged excited glances and laughed at Devin.
“Sorry,” Gage said, covering his mouth from laughing, “you just made Devin’s whole week—he’s a diehard Devils’ Tongues fan.”
“I was following them on tour before I started working at the Sentry,” he said, nearly vibrating with excitement.
“Well, we’ll have to get you backstage passes,” I said to Devin with a wink. “They’ve agreed to perform for a charity fundraiser, and the proceeds will be going to LGBT charities in the Vegas area.” Glancing to Zane, I added, “This will be both outstanding PR for the casino, proving that we at the Sentry aren’t just pillars of the city’s LGBT community, but that we’re true locals who want to see this city flourish and grow with each passing year. So, without further ado,” I said, raising my glass and watching everyone at the table do the same, “to the Sentry, and La Torre!”
The table cheered, and we all took long drinks of the fine red wine. I felt like I was walking on clouds, heart pounding and blood coursing through my veins in excitement.
I lived for this kind of thing.
As I sat down, I heard a chorus of praise from the men at the table.
“That was very well done,” Zane said quietly. “I couldn’t have handled that any better myself.”
“Love this idea,” Mick agreed, giving me a nod. “I’ve thought something livelier like that is just what the Sentry has needed for years, but I don’t have an eye for what’s popular right now.”
“The Devils’ Tongues are hot as hell this year,” Devin said enthusiastically, leaning forward and grinning. “Their new album is… well, I’ll just send it to you.”
“He made a fan out of me,” Gage admitted, chuckling and scratching Devin’s back affectionately.
“Awfully ambitious, though, isn’t it?” came Bryce’s voice. I raised an eyebrow at him. He had a smile on his face, but it was fake as it always was. “That’s a lot of logistics for one person to put together. Just make sure you’re not biting off more than you can chew, yeah?”
“Don’t worry about that, I wouldn’t have announced it if it wasn’t airtight,” I said with a political smile, not wanting to let him spoil the good mood at the table.
“Oh, it’s my job to worry, you know me,” he said, laughing it off. “You never know what someone could do half-ass and cause trouble for us all. I’m sure you’re fine, though,” he said in a tone that told me he was trying to get under my skin.
I just raised a glass to him and smiled without another word, then drained the glass.
Nico made eye contact with me again across the table and winked, and I winked right back at him.
I didn’t want to admit how much Bryce’s words made me nervous, but good god, the man knew how to hit my biggest fears hard and fast.
But I wasn’t going to let this go any way but absolutely perfectly.
That was how I operated.
I was the best, and I woul
d accept nothing less than that, both from everyone around me and from myself.
The only question was whether everyone else could keep up with me.
CHAPTER FIVE - CASEY
I walked into the fire station with my mind still reeling from my conversation with my mother. Normally, I left a conversation with her feeling just a little cheerier, maybe even amused by the anecdotes she presented to me like they were major government secrets or something. But hearing her even mention my father was unpleasant for me. And the little bit of guilt-tripping about how long it had been since I last spoke to my father… well, I could definitely do without all that. Part of me was indignant about it: whether or not I chatted with my dad frequently enough was not exactly anyone’s business but mine. After all, my parents were divorced and had been for over a decade. It wasn’t up to Ma to decide what kind of relationship I had with my father anymore.
On top of that, I was twenty-eight years old. I was an adult. I didn’t need to have a close, warm and fuzzy relationship with my dad if I didn’t want to. Besides, he was a grown-up, too. If he wanted me in his life, he would have put me there himself. I was not about to waste my precious time and energy on trying to chase him down. He would come to me when he was good and ready to, and I was not going to force it.
Today, I just wanted to put all of that aside and throw myself one hundred percent into my work, as usual. I was looking forward to spending the day cleaning, working out, answering calls if they came, and in general just being useful and productive. And distracted. I definitely wanted to be distracted. As soon as I stepped into the gaping garage I saw a few of my colleagues poke their heads out from around the shiny fire truck.