Leaning Into Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hayes, Lane

  We’d graduated the year the recession hit, when jobs right out of college were scarce. Quite a few of our friends opted to go straight to grad school or take non-paying internships, but Nick was ready to put a few of his patents to work. He somehow managed to talk me into taking a chance on a new venture. My parents begged me to think my decision through and at least work toward getting my master’s degree in business while I went on Nick’s wild ride. I did it to appease them, but I didn’t hesitate to jump in on what was certainly a risky proposition. Eight years later, even my folks acknowledged my gamble had paid off a few million times over.

  The enormous glass doors to EN Technology slid open as I approached the entrance to our impressive eco-friendly headquarters. The building was an architectural masterpiece of modern ingenuity using reclaimed materials and energy-efficient design. In other words, we were a million miles away from our very humble beginnings a few streets away.

  I nodded my greeting to security and headed toward a sleek bank of elevators. At seven a.m. on a Monday morning the lobby was deserted. The bulk of our staff would be coming into work within the hour. If I was lucky, I could enjoy a cup of coffee in relative peace and quiet while I went over the proposal for the meeting I had scheduled at ten.

  I greeted my secretary Miles with a distracted wave, unsurprised he’d beaten me to the office. If Miles knew I was expected to arrive early, he made sure he was there to greet me. I paused at his desk to get a better look at the tie he was wearing.

  “Is that Spiderman?”

  “Where?” He looked from side to side in an exaggerated motion reminiscent of a cartoon character.

  “Around your neck,” I said in a flat tone. It was too damn early to be cheerful. I wasn’t going to bother trying.

  “God, I wish,” he said with sigh and quick wink. “How was your weekend, sir?”

  Miles was smart as hell and twice as fabulous. He was a six-foot-tall good-looking string bean of a guy in his late twenties with a mop of auburn hair and brilliant blue eyes. No one pulled off preppy meets badass bitch quite like him. He was famous for pairing conservative, well-cut suits with flashy ties and colorful socks.

  Miles had been my personal secretary for five years, which roughly coincided with EN Tech’s rise in the network security field. He was a dedicated employee who’d mastered the art of straddling professional and personal interaction in a high-stress environment. We could chat about the last episode of Game of Thrones or a restaurant he and his longtime boyfriend had tried, but he was astute at reading situations and knew when to shift into business mode.

  “The usual. Nothing exciting.” I stepped toward my door and stopped again. “Miles, I have a—”

  “Meeting at ten in the large conference room. I know. I just finished setting up. Everything is ready. I’ll bring your coffee now. Would you care for fruit and pastries too?”

  “No thank you. Just the coffee, please,” I said as I made my way past his wood and steel desk to my giant corner office.

  Mountain View was an aptly named city, I mused, glancing at the views of the majestic Santa Cruz range to the east from the bank of floor to ceiling windows. Sunlight spilled through the open blinds across the contemporary leather sofa and Barcelona chairs in the sitting area to the right and reflected off the small glass conference table beyond. I headed for my enormous desk at the opposite end of the room and dumped my briefcase unceremoniously on one of the adjacent guest chairs then turned at the sound of footsteps behind me.

  “Thanks Mil—oh. Hi.”

  Fuck.

  Nick before coffee wasn’t good. Especially on a Monday when I had important things to do and a headful of confusion still swimming in my brain from the bombshell he dropped last Friday. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t muster a genuine smile. It was like I told Zane last night…I wasn’t in love with Nick and I never had been. Sure, I was prone to extended bouts of infatuation with men who were so off limits it was laughable, but I usually regained my footing before I did or said anything I’d regret. In addition to processing Nick’s upcoming wedding, I hoped to use part of my morning to talk myself off the insane train of thought that had me spinning over Zane all night. God, I was a head case. An un-caffeinated one too.

  “Good morning. How was your weekend?” he asked conversationally.

  Nick was tall, dark and handsome with a geeky side that made him seem more approachable than the average CEO of the multimillion-dollar company he’d cofounded. He had a sharp mind and an equally sharp wit. The guy was literally a genius. And like many uber-intelligent people, his insatiable curiosity came with a slightly warped sense of right and wrong. By his own admission, Nick was solution driven. He didn’t waste time worrying about the fallout when his focus on results created waves along the way. That was my job. Wave warrior, I thought with a half laugh.

  “Fine. Did you need something? I’ve got to get ready for—”

  “I know, I know.” Nick turned when Miles entered the room and set my coffee on my desk.

  They exchanged a brief round of pleasantries before Miles closed the door behind him and left me with my somewhat anxious looking business partner. And friend. The latter title was what kept me from booting his ass out so I could get my day started. We’d known each other too long not to be aware of one another’s moods. I had a sick feeling Nick wanted to pick up the conversation where we’d left it last Friday.

  “Well?” I prodded.

  “I want you to be my best man,” he blurted.

  And there it was.

  I pasted a weak-ass smile on my face and nodded before answering in an even tone. “Of course. I’d be honored.”

  Nick’s insta-grin was hard to resist. I chuckled when he yelped excitedly and then pulled me into a crushing embrace. I slugged his arm and gasped for air when oxygen deprivation became an issue.

  “Awesome! That’s great. Thanks.”

  I moved to my desk and took a seat. “You didn’t really think I’d say no, did you?”

  “Nah. You love me,” he said with a Cheshire cat grin. He flopped into one of the chairs across from me like it was the last chaise lounge at a crowded beach. His joy was palpable. But that was Nick. Everything he felt oozed out of him…good and bad. It made me wonder if I’d been off base about his sudden announcement to marry Lisa Carrigan. Maybe he did love her.

  “I do…in an, I can’t shake this guy no matter how hard I try, so I may as well give in kind of way. Now if you don’t mind…”

  Nick didn’t take the hint. Instead he leaned his elbows on my desk and cocked his head curiously.

  “I’ll go in a sec. I should have said something to you first. I didn’t mean to mega-vomit the news in front of everyone, but I was excited. It’s a good thing, you know?”

  I narrowed my gaze thoughtfully as I took in the impeccable cut of his navy Armani suit. His gray eyes sparked with humor and something resembling a desire for validation. It was an odd combination that set warning bells off in my head. He wanted my approval on a business merger. Not a marriage. Jesus Christ.

  “Lisa’s a sweet girl. And if you’re happy, we’re all happy for you.”

  There. Passive-aggressive felicitations were better than nothing, right?

  “What do you mean, ‘We’re all happy?’ ” he asked with a frown.

  “All of us. Me, Zane, Josh, Grant…the guys. And we’ll all be at the engagement party to kick-start the countdown to D-day or M-day. Did you choose a date for the wedding?”

  Nick’s brow was still knit unhappily. “No. Sometime in the spring, I guess, but—you sounded weird when you said that. Are you really cool with everything?”

  I held his stare for a long moment as I weighed the merit of telling the truth versus saying what he wanted to hear. My hesitation spoke for me.

  “Eric, I don’t want this to cause issues for us. We’ve been through too much together. Trust me, marrying Lisa will only make things better for us.”

  “Are you listening to yourse
lf?” I couldn’t keep my incredulous expression to myself. “We don’t need the Carrigans’ money to fund our projects. We have plenty of our own resources and dozens of other investors. How much is enough, for fuck’s sake? Do you really have to marry for money?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “No. Fuck you. I know you, asshole. You’re doing the same thing to her you did to me a couple years ago. You want something she has and you’re using the most elemental method you know to get it. Sex is one thing, but marrying a billionaire’s daughter to ascertain financial security…it’s slimy.”

  “You’re jealous,” he said flatly.

  “Of what?” I slapped my hand down hard enough to hurt then looked out the window hoping to collect myself. This was not the place for this conversation and frankly, I resented him for drawing me into it in the first place. “Nick, I love you like a brother. And at the end of the day, I just want you to be happy. That’s all I have to say.”

  “Ditto, but we’ve been more intimate than brothers, Eric. Maybe we should talk about—”

  “No. There’s no point. We happened because you needed me here. Business was shaky and you couldn’t handle it on your own. The sex was amazing and I don’t regret a thing. But make no mistake…you never fooled me. As much as I wanted to believe you when you said we were special, I always knew you meant the business was special. Not me. Does Lisa know that too?”

  His nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw angrily. “So I take it that’s a no.”

  I huffed in exasperation and pointed toward the door. “I’ll be your best man, asshole. Hell, I’ll even throw you a hetero-style bachelor party…though I’ll probably need help with that. And I’ll send you off with a heartfelt speech on your wedding day that will make all the bridesmaids cry and lament that most of your friends prefer dick. Are we good? ’Cause I got a shitload of work to do and a lukewarm cup of coffee now. Feel free to close the door behind you.”

  Nick’s slow smile morphed into a wide beautiful grin that made me chuckle in spite of my racing pulse. He stood quickly and clapped his hands. It was a Nick-ism that indicated he was pleased with the results of our “chat.” It wasn’t lost on me that he didn’t deny my accusations. Transparency wasn’t his style on a personal front. Stark truths were reserved for business endeavors only. I should just be grateful he thought to ask how I felt at all.

  “Okay, Best Man. I’ll see you in the conference room at nine forty-five. Oh wait!” He stopped suddenly with his hand on the doorknob. “You should bring a date to the engagement part. I can set you up with—”

  “I’ve got one. I’m going with Zane.” If I hadn’t looked up from my computer, I would have missed his scowl. I did a double-take when I noticed he was frozen in place.

  “Zane?”

  “Yeah. What’s the problem?”

  “Nothing. Are you…” He winced as though he was extraordinarily uncomfortable with the idea there could be something between Zane and me.

  “Are you fucking crazy?”

  It was an automatic response. The more honest one was, “I wish!”

  Nick shrugged and finally opened the door. “Some people think so.”

  I flung a squishy stress ball at the door and shook my head when he reopened it and gave me a thumbs up sign. I flipped him off then turned to my computer screen. Nick was a mystery I’d never solve. I had to stop trying.

  I sat back in my chair and looked down at my cell just as a text from Zane flashed on the screen.

  Monday night football at Flannigan’s. Can u b there at 5?

  I stared at the message. It wasn’t a group text. It was only addressed to me. Hmm.

  Who else is going??? I typed, adding an obnoxious amount of question marks to bug him.

  Just me.

  So you’re asking me out? This time I added about fifteen heart emojis before pressing Send.

  No reply. I squinted at my phone, willing it to light up. After a full minute with no response, I chided myself for being a complete moron and pushed my cell out of reach. It buzzed a moment later.

  Yes. What do u say?

  A few suggestive zingers popped in my head. However, I felt self-conscious typing a sexual innuendo that was supposed to be a joke when I really meant it. It smacked of getting caught scribbling your grade school crush’s name next to yours in your notebook. If I didn’t want to give myself away I had to play it cool.

  I’ll be there.

  It was football in a bar filled with strangers. No big deal. Nonetheless, there was no point in trying to wipe the giant smile from my face. Damn, I was a hopeless case.

  Over the next couple weeks, Zane and I spent a lot of time together. We didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. We met for drinks a few times and watched football at one of our places. Guy things we usually did with a group of college buddies over giant plates of nachos and an endless supply of beer. Of course, I’d be the one perched on a corner of the sofa, sipping chardonnay and occasionally piping in to ask if the 49ers had scored a home run while my friends groaned and threw chips at my head.

  It felt oddly natural to sit with our knees touching under a bar or across the sofa from each other as we rehashed our respective days. We’d begin with our attention drawn to the game televised on the giant screen beyond the bartender’s head, but within fifteen minutes, neither of us bothered to look up. A stupid story about a bumpy helicopter ride on my commute back to the city morphed into a conversation about travel in general. And then places we’d visited as kids became a discussion about family. We immersed ourselves in “get to know you” dialogue that was incongruous to a couple of guys who’d been friends for years.

  I learned things about Zane I’d never known before. Like, his mother was a professional swimmer who’d qualified for the Olympics but had to give up her spot when she found out she was pregnant with him. And that the only reason she’d stayed in Southern California to raise her son was because she fell for a guy on the surfing circuit who was around long enough to pique Zane’s interest in the sport, but ended up leaving her for another woman. He painted a picture of a woman who let her heart make her biggest decisions, with no regrets. When he spoke of her, he unwittingly gave pieces of himself away he’d never shared in all the years we’d been friends. Her struggle to make ends meet working as a cocktail waitress at a high-end restaurant was the catalyst that drove him to try a sport he had no passion for whatsoever. He knew water polo might ultimately help him get the education he needed to ensure he didn’t repeat what he called the Richards “road to nowhere” cycle.

  When we were alone at one of our condos the subtle shift in our friendship became an almost palpable thing. I cautioned myself not to read anything into it, but being in close proximity without the buffer of other friends or strangers felt…intimate. The slightest brush of his hand made my pulse skitter and my heart thump against my chest. Unlike at a bar where I could stare into his eyes or study his full lips while nodding along with the conversation—in private, I was exposed. It had only happened a couple times but both instances proved to be an exercise in keeping my eyes locked on men in tight pants on the television while sitting with a drink in my lap, praying my boner wasn’t obvious.

  Maybe I should have avoided Zane until I figured out why I couldn’t get him out of my mind lately. Any decent psychologist would suggest it had something to do with a rebound reaction to Nick’s engagement news. But that didn’t ring true. The trick was to find neutral headspace so I wouldn’t say or do anything to make him uncomfortable when my growing infatuation accidentally made itself known. If I could only stop staring at him, I mused as I refocused on the conversation. Something about sailing.

  “I wanted to learn how to sail when I overheard Jack Klaus talking about his uncle returning from some around the world voyage. ’Member him in high school?”

  “Yeah. Sort of. He was a douche,” I said in a bored tone.

  “He wasn’t that bad. You were a snob.”

  I furrowed my brow an
d kicked his knee, hard. “I was not!”

  “Were too. You didn’t approve of people who didn’t study and get good grades. You hated me then, didn’t you?”

  “Hate is a strong word. I didn’t know you.”

  “No, but you thought you knew my type. It’s cool. Everyone in high school does that. They judge you by your clothes, your accessories, the kids you hang with and the house you live in. It’s no wonder I ranked low in your esteem. I was nothing like you.”

  “No, but it’s insulting to claim I judged you based on a superficial basis. I’m not an asshole, asshole.”

  Zane snorted with amusement and kicked my leg. “I know you’re not…now. But you used to be judgy.”

  “First of all, judgy isn’t a word. Secondly…I wasn’t. I just didn’t get you. You were aloof in a too cool for school way.” I smacked his arm when he rolled his eyes. “It’s true. If I seemed judgmental, it’s because I was insecure. I wasn’t one of the in-crowd. I was a dork.”

  “You still are,” he said with an almost adoring grin that made me blush.

  “Whatever. I only had my brain to offer. I wasn’t good looking or athletic and I didn’t make friends easily. I wasn’t like you.”

  I stared at the action on the TV and waited for a snarky comeback. I was aware of the tension in my shoulders and a rush of heat in my cheeks. Zane was right. I was still a dork. Or an idiot. Obviously my brain wasn’t as spectacular an asset as I claimed.

  “Hey. Look at me, Schuster.”

  “Don’t call me Schuster, Richards.”

  “Look at me, Eric.” His kind tone and the low timbre of his voice moved through me, grounding me to him and to the moment. When I turned to comply, he was closer than expected.

  “What is it?” I croaked, staring at his mouth before bravely looking into his eyes. The honesty there was humbling. It was stark and real and it belonged firmly in the present.

  “It doesn’t matter who we thought we were back then. I know you now.”

  “What exactly do you think you know?”

  “Well…I think you’ve probably run your fingers through your hair at least twenty times today while you’ve made financial conquests. I think you’re pretending to watch football with me, but you like the wine spritzer I bought so you don’t mind and—”