by KC Burn
“Take a break, guys,” Stefan called over his shoulder before turning back to Will. “Let’s go to my office.”
Perfect. Will followed Stefan while the rest of the cast and crew began milling about behind them.
The second the door shut behind them, Will spoke. “I fired Dallas.”
Stefan hoisted himself up on the desk, often preferring to sit on his desk rather than in the somewhat austere chair behind it. Since Stefan didn’t look like anybody’s idea of a CEO, it only made him look more languid and younger than normal. “You did?”
Something in Stefan’s tone gave Will pause, and he scrambled to explain. “He’s impossible, Stefan. And today I caught him going through my desk.”
God. Could he have made it sound any worse? He all but implied that Dallas had been rifling through his drawers for money or drugs or something.
“Oh really?” Disbelief colored Stefan’s voice.
“I mean. It wasn’t like that. I don’t think he was stealing anything.” Will squirmed. That didn’t sound any more convincing, and he didn’t want Stefan to get a false impression. Dallas had absolutely overstepped, but Will didn’t want to blacken his record for future jobs… although his daddy could probably get him hired at just about any company in Connecticut he wanted, so the fact that Dallas was here, making Will’s life hell, was unfathomable.
“Then what was it like?”
“Just… he took it upon himself to go through my desk, which is unacceptable.”
Stefan sighed. “Just took it upon himself? For absolutely no reason at all?”
Blood thundered in Will’s ears. Dallas’s intentions were good, but sometimes that wasn’t enough to save one. “Invoices for Joanie.”
Stefan directed a gaze heavenward, and heaved out another sigh. “I have to admit, when I started up this studio, I never quite imagined all the… operations stuff that goes on behind the scenes.”
Will had no idea why Stefan was bringing this up, but his boss wasn’t done.
“There’s a lot of work that goes into making sure all the cogs in the machinery run smoothly, and while I’d be happier if everyone liked each other, we both know it’s almost impossible to achieve a work environment filled with rainbows and unicorns. Sometimes we need to do our job and make the best of it.”
Will squinted at his boss. This sounded suspiciously like a father reprimanding a child, when it was supposed to result in termination papers for Dallas.
“And Kyle and I will continue to make the best of it, without Dallas. Because I just fired him.”
“And I just rehired him. Make the best of it.” Stefan’s words were clipped, like he was starting to lose patience, but Will just couldn’t process the words properly.
“I’m sorry, but aren’t I his manager?” And thank fuck he hadn’t tried to have this conversation with Stefan in front of the models. That was humiliation the likes of which Will did not need in his life.
“Yes, but you report to me. And I think you need more help than Kyle can give you. I hired Dallas, and I’m continuing to keep him on the payroll, so you might as well let him do what he’s trained to do.”
Will’s lip curled. What was it about Dallas that made upper management so enamored? And why was Will not good enough for anyone?
“If my performance is in question—”
Stefan sliced a hand through the air. “Will, for fuck’s sake. I’m not an idiot. You are drowning under your workload, and let’s just say I now have a better understanding of what burnout looks like. I’m not going to let you go down that road. Okay? Do you want to review Dallas’s resume? Would that help things along?”
No, he really didn’t want to do that. He knew what skills Dallas had to have had to get hired at Savron Dynamics, and he didn’t really want to see his old job title on Dallas’s resume. Thing was, he actually liked working at Idyll Fling better than where he’d been, aside from the increasingly long hours, but he couldn’t let go of the fear. Fear he hadn’t known until he’d been laid off, with no viable prospects for employment.
Unless he was willing to hand in his resignation, he didn’t have a choice. He was going to have to make peace with Dallas and his interfering ways. Maybe once the new office space was built, he would be easier to deal with.
“Fine. Dallas stays.”
Stefan rolled his eyes. “Try to add a little enthusiasm next time. After all, this ought to give you a bit of a break.”
Break. Yeah, right. Will hadn’t even been willing to take vacation days since he’d been hired. That was one of the myriad reasons he hadn’t auditioned for the nearby Renaissance faire, even though participation in Ren faires back in Connecticut had been one of the things he’d enjoyed doing. Wearing a kilt and hanging out with Raven for the Tartan Candy events was fun, but not quite the same.
“I’ll try, Stefan.” And he would. He just wasn’t sure how he’d get through the afternoon.
“Thank you, Will. I appreciate it. And don’t let him lift anything too heavy. He’s still recovering from surgery.”
There wasn’t any more to be said, so Will let himself out of Stefan’s office. As much as he didn’t want to face Dallas, he had to at least man the fuck up and tell the kid he still had a job. He wasn’t even inclined to believe Stefan about the surgery, but it wasn’t his place to say, or ask.
Before he was ready, he stood in front of the server room door, contemplating how he’d endure the most uncomfortable afternoon he’d ever experience. Despite all the work piling up, there was no way Will could sit at his half-cleared desk and concentrate on anything but his humiliation at the hands of a man who should be modeling menswear, not hiding out in Will’s haven masquerading as a damned junior systems administrator.
He opened the door and leaned partway into the server room. “Dallas.”
Dallas looked up from his desk.
“You’re not fired.”
Face blank, Dallas nodded.
If Dallas had had one hint of smugness in his expression, Will would have lost it and tried to fire him again. Instead, he nodded back, and left the room. The big break room had a fancy coffeemaker. Will was suddenly of a mind to figure out how to make himself a latte. Then he’d worry about how to face Dallas—and Kyle, whom he’d somehow forgotten about—for the rest of the day.
WILL PARKED alongside Dallas’s beat-up Toyota. If he’d been paying attention it wouldn’t have taken him this long to identify Dallas’s ride, since it still had Connecticut plates. But Will had been expected a sports car or a luxury car or a Hummer or something. There had been plenty of gossip around the office when Dallas first started working at Savron Dynamics, all of it centered around the Greene family’s wealth, and how daddy had likely paid Dallas’s way.
The only thing Will had been sure of was that Dallas had the skills to do the job he’d been hired for, but that didn’t mean daddy hadn’t influenced the selection process any.
For all the fantasizing about Dallas Will had done, he’d never paid attention to what car he drove, so Will didn’t know if this beat-up old clunker was the same car he’d driven to Savron Dynamics.
The incongruity of the car compared to Dallas’s social station bothered Will, but given their current cold war status, he wasn’t about to ask.
Weirdly, he was almost eager to get in to work. Dallas had managed to completely clear his desk, filing everything as neatly as Will would have done himself. In addition, he’d made sure Joanie had everything she needed for Will to be completely up-to-date. It was a small thing, but it had made such a difference in his attitude.
Previously, the mountain of paper made Will depressed and listless before he’d even had a chance to sit down. Avoiding Joanie’s requests and demands for invoices that he couldn’t easily locate and didn’t want to take the time to find had him constantly on edge. For the first time in a while, he was ready to stride into the reception area and greet Joanie without the unwelcome side dishes of guilt and dread.
For that, he
had Dallas to thank—not that he’d done so.
Dallas was also directly responsible for Will’s gritty eyes after another night filled with dreams of Dallas. At one time, dreaming about Dallas had been purely erotic, and a pleasure, albeit a guilty one. Now, the eroticism was threaded with Dallas stealing money from him, or kicking him out into snowstorms to die, or laughing maliciously at him. Didn’t take a psychologist to interpret Will’s subconscious. Fearing and desiring a man at the same time was playing merry havoc with his sleeping patterns, and he didn’t understand how he could look forward to another awkward, silent workday every bit as much as he hated it.
After locking up his car, Will took a sip from the coffee he’d picked up at the cafe on the way to work. He peered inside Dallas’s car, checking to see if anything lying out visible would provide the key to understanding him, but there was nothing. Somehow, he’d restrained himself from stalking Dallas on social media, and he was adamant he wasn’t going to go there.
At least it was Friday. He had a whole Dallas-free weekend ahead of him, and a Tartan Candy event too. When Raven had first suggested Will wear his kilt and join him in a “hired eye candy” venture, he’d thought Raven was out of his fucking mind. Will might not be the stunning figure Raven cut in a kilt, but he had a surprising popularity that gratified him. With the bachelor auction taking place at a gay club, he might even be able to parlay that into getting laid, which had to—just had to—curb his growing obsession with Dallas. With lust clouding his brain, it was almost impossible to objectively assess Dallas’s motives for gaining employment with Idyll Fling. Hell, Will hadn’t even figured out yet if Dallas was gay.
Conflicted. That was the word he was looking for. Going to work meant feeling conflicted, which was only marginally better than dread.
When Will got to the server room, Dallas was nowhere to be seen. Will shuddered. Presumably he was making more of that herbal tea. Thankfully it didn’t smell awful, but it had to taste like shit. Regular tea was bad enough without taking a bunch of random dried plants and stewing them. He’d take his coffee—or latte if he was feeling frivolous—any day.
He sat his to-go cup down on his perfectly clean desk. He’d logged on to his computer before he noticed the one new item on his desk. A brand new white mug bore the slogan “World’s Best Boss.”
Will let his head hang down. Dallas had to be responsible, since Kyle didn’t work Thursday or Friday. Thing was, Will knew he was acting like possibly the shittiest boss in the history of bosses, so there was zero chance the sentiment was the truth. He didn’t know if the mug had been placed on his desk as a passive-aggressive, mean-spirited jab or encouragement for the future. All he knew for sure was that it set his teeth on edge. If nothing else, it was a glaring reminder that he hadn’t thanked Dallas for clearing his desk and getting his paperwork up-to-date. It was also a glaring reminder that Stefan hadn’t hired Dallas for his clerical skills and Will was going to have to find Dallas something else to do, as much as it galled him to give Dallas access to any piece of the world he’d created for Idyll Fling.
He was still hoping Dallas would either leave or show his true colors before Stefan forced his hand. Hell, he suspected Stefan hadn’t even read Dallas’s resume, otherwise he would have mentioned the fact that both Will and Dallas had worked at the same company. Stefan had probably been blinded by Dallas’s appearance and just took everything at face value. In this case, he’d gotten lucky, and Dallas had the skills to help Will. Deep in his heart, Will knew he was floundering, but the last person he wanted to help him was Dallas. Mostly because he didn’t trust Dallas, but a tiny niggling, annoying part of that was not wanting to appear weak and vulnerable in front of an attractive man.
Somehow, he had to find a way not to be a shit, but Dallas just brought out the worst in him.
Dallas chose that moment to open the door, a steaming mug of tea in his hand.
“Good morning.”
Will took a deep breath and forced himself to say what needed to be said. He was a professional adult. A manager. This shouldn’t be so hard.
“Good morning, Dallas. Thank you for getting the filing up-to-date.”
Dallas let loose a lethal smile that had Will’s cock responding immediately. Idiotically, he found himself wanting to praise Dallas more, in the hopes of getting more smiles. Fuck, he was so screwed.
“You’re welcome.” Dallas sat at his desk, acting as though Will was nice to him all the time.
Will still wanted to rip yet another paisley tie from Dallas’s throat, but his mind never stopped at the tie, supplying images where he kept removing the rest of Dallas’s suit, and that wasn’t helping his cock deflate any. And he sure wasn’t thanking Dallas for the mug. Not until he figured out what Dallas meant by it.
Realizing he was still staring at Dallas, practically drooling, he made himself turn back to his work, but it was several minutes before he could remember where he’d left off the previous day.
THINGS WERE looking up. Dallas couldn’t stop smiling all morning, even though Will still hadn’t given him proper tasks to perform. But he’d thanked Dallas. Sincerely. Sure, it was the most he’d said to Dallas since Monday’s aborted attempt to fire him, but this felt like a step in the right direction.
When Will finally left to take a lunch break—which Dallas hoped would become a much-needed habit—Dallas ignored his own lunch in favor of inspecting the new equipment. One of the documents he’d found while sorting out Will’s desk had been a plan. Not a full business proposal but enough of one to confirm that the recently purchased equipment related to Stefan’s desire to bring as much of the operation in-house as he could. Without the equipment up and running, the plan as it had been laid out, was stalled out.
Riding high on his—delayed—success with Operation Paper Bomb, Dallas was ready to start on a bigger operation. It had taken Will a while to come around, but Dallas was confident he’d see the benefit eventually.
Hopefully enlightenment wouldn’t require another ineffectual attempt at firing him. If that became a “thing,” Dallas was going to have to admit his relationship to Stefan sooner rather than later, and even though Will had spent the last two weeks being deliberately obtuse, he might figure out just exactly how Stefan had come to contact him with a job offer. He didn’t want that to come out until the two of them had managed something that resembled a truce.
Not wanting to dirty his suit jacket, Dallas slung it over the back of his chair. The speakers on his work computer weren’t great, but he started streaming some music, found a box cutter, and got busy.
He was knee-deep in molded foam packing and wisps of plastic wrapping, swaying to an unfamiliar yet compelling tune when Will’s angry shout made him drop the box cutter. He whirled around as Will began advancing, fists clenched.
A wave of nervous disquiet rippled through his gut, but he had to stand his ground or Will would never take him seriously.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Will’s voice was hardly recognizable, and his face had turned an angry red.
“Why do you keep asking questions you know the answer to?” Dallas bit his lip after that. For whatever reason, his tongue had again decided to taunt the angry cave hermit rather than simply and prudently defending his actions.
“Why?” Will sputtered a bit, and Dallas wasn’t quite sure what Will was talking about, but he decided to answer anyway.
“I found the plan you and Stefan devised. Seemed to rely on this stuff actually getting plugged in and hooked up to… oh… computers. Maybe the Internet.”
Apparently at a loss for words, although a few guttural growls emerged, Will advanced, expression almost feral. Dallas’s newfound sass deserted him, and he backed up until he hit the wall.
Despite only being a couple of inches shorter, Will positively loomed over him. Dallas stared into infuriated hazel eyes, mesmerized in spite of the anger. Will breathed heavily, trying to find the right words. For a man who’d recently eaten lunch, his bre
ath was incredibly minty. Like he’d brushed his teeth or chewed gum before coming back to Dallas.
That tiny concession to Dallas’s sensibilities had him parting his lips as his cock filled. Even though he knew damn well this wasn’t the prelude to any sort of sexual situation, however much he might wish it so, his brain and libido were clearly misinterpreting the situation. The woodsy scent of Will’s soap—Dallas didn’t think Will was the sort to wear cologne—made him want to lick that clean skin all over. With Will standing closer than he ever had, Dallas yearned to close that distance to nothing.
Will flexed his fingers open, relieving Dallas on one score—he wasn’t going to get punched.
“Why the fuck are you working here?”
Oh. That wasn’t a question Dallas had expected. “What do you mean?”
Will growled again. “There’s no good reason for a straight guy who could make a fortune on the runway to work at a goddamned gay porn tech department other than to make my life fucking hell. How stupid do you think I am?”
“Conceited much? I’m not here because of you.” Well, not directly. Ignoring the “making his life hell” bit because that had to be an exaggeration, Dallas focused on two other vital and far more interesting pieces of information in those words. Will thought he was hot and Will thought he was straight. “I’m not straight.”
Will rolled his eyes. “Right. Of course. Then all those charity dinners you attended with starlets were what, misdirection?”
Dallas narrowed his eyes. “So you do remember me?” That was unexpected. And he knew who the Greene family was.
“Of course I do. You look like….” Will’s face flushed scarlet as he bit back words. Dallas desperately wanted to know what he’d been about to say. “Stefan might not have any idea who you are, but I do, and the only reasons I can think of for you to be slumming it down here in Florida don’t reflect well on you.”