Leaning Into Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hayes, Lane

  Leaning Into The Look

  Grant Kostas made a career based on his looks before joining his family’s real estate firm. He may not love his job but he’s better at sales than he thought. And when he’s poised to bring in the biggest account of the company’s history, even his father is impressed. Unfortunately, the extra attention highlights Grant’s personal life. His parents accept that he’s gay. They just wish he’d meet a nice Greek man.

  Miles Harrison is a fabulous red head going through a rough patch. Between getting dumped by his long-term boyfriend and finding a new place to live in the city, he’s nearing his wits end. He’s not sure why he thought rooming with his boss’s friend was a good idea. Miles has had a crush on Grant for years. However, he knows attractive people aren’t always pretty on the inside. As the two men grapple with external problems, they form an unexpected bond of friendship and trust that feels like the real thing. The only way to know for certain is to let go of fear and lean into the look.

  Chapter 1

  “People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for…”—Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

  Perfectly spaced vines lined the ribbon of highway leading toward the hub of world-renowned wineries in Napa Valley. The rolling hills against the backdrop of a brilliant blue sky were truly picturesque and gave the setting an almost spiritual aura. The scenic ambience conjured celestial majesty and encouraged a moment of reflection for something infinitely more powerful than mere mortals. Or maybe it would, if I could hear myself think over the din of the U2 classic and my friends’ good-natured debate about the merits of red or white wine.

  “Red. All day. Red,” Josh said, slapping his hand on my knee for emphasis.

  I nudged his elbow and shot him a sideways dirty look. “So says the guy who’ll drink boxed wine through a straw.”

  “Hey, I wouldn’t—nah. You’re right. I’d totally do that.”

  Finn chuckled as he draped an arm over his boyfriend’s shoulder and pulled Josh against him. “Never change, Joshy.”

  The ensuing kissy-gooey noises were sweet but vaguely nauseating in the close quarters of the Range Rover’s back seat. I turned my attention to the view to give them a modicum of privacy, wondering for the umpteenth time why I hadn’t insisted on meeting everyone in Napa for the party. I loved my friends, but sometimes it sucked being the only single guy still standing. I’d be the proverbial third wheel this weekend.

  Scratch that. I was the fifth wheel in this SUV, and I’d be the seventh once we met up with Nick and Wes at Conrad Winery. Whatever. There would be plenty of other people to hang out with when my friends all retired to their rooms with their significant others. Then again, hanging out with strangers made me equally as jumpy.

  I leaned forward and tapped Eric’s arm. “How big is the party tonight?”

  Eric turned sideways in his passenger side seat. “Sixty or seventy people. I’m not sure what the final tally was. Miles handled everything with Wes and his staff. My only job is to give a kickass speech and pay the bill. After that, it’s all about having fun and celebrating.”

  “What are we celebrating again?” Josh asked, widening his eyes theatrically.

  “Something about EN Tech’s wildly successful expansion into previously untapped markets…thanks to Finn Gallagher,” Eric singsonged teasingly as he reached back to high-five Finn.

  The collective cheer was loud enough to burst an eardrum in the confines of the vehicle, but I couldn’t help joining in even though I had no clue how Finn and Eric’s high-tech collaboration worked. I only knew it made them lots of money.

  Eric and our friend, Nick, had started EN Tech soon after we’d all graduated from Stanford. Over the past decade, they’d cornered the market in the network security field. Their headquarters was in Silicon Valley, but they had satellite offices across the world and somehow, Josh’s boyfriend, Finn, was involved in their recent expansion as a reseller. I understood the gist of Finn’s involvement, but there was no point in trying to wrap my brain around their business when it took everything I had to feign interest in my own.

  Nonetheless, I was thrilled to celebrate their success and equally excited to get away from the city for an overnight bash at a world-renowned winery. Even if I couldn’t drink. Well, not much anyway.

  “So, speeches, dinner, wine-tasting…any hot, single guys at this thing by chance?” I asked offhandedly.

  Eric threw out a few names of men we all knew who were either older, crazier, or came with more baggage than I was interested in taking on. He snickered at my beleaguered groan before twisting farther around and taking off his sunglasses. Eric’s brown eyes twinkled mischievously, giving him a boyishly handsome look. “Miles is single.”

  “Miles? I thought he and his boyfriend were altar-bound. Didn’t you give him all of your wedding contact info recently?” I wrinkled my brow and tried to visualize Eric’s sassy, auburn-haired secretary.

  “Oh yeah,” Zane grunted from the driver’s seat before turning down the cypress-lined road leading to the winery. “He just returned Eric’s binders last week.”

  I leaned across Josh and rested my elbows on the front seats, casting a confused look between Zane and Eric. They’d been married for almost two years now, but when they first got together, we’d all worried their relationship might put a strain on our friendships. All through college, we’d been a team: Zane, Eric, Nick, Josh, and me. As far as I could tell, they’d made a seamless transition from friends to lovers. Maybe it was because they were a study in opposites.

  Zane was a professional sailor with a side business selling boats to an elite clientele in the Bay Area. He was tall and good-looking with longish dark-blond hair, brilliant blue eyes, and sun-kissed skin. His laid-back nature contrasted nicely with Eric’s slightly high-strung temperament.

  Eric was five ten and by his own admission, he was a regular guy. Brown hair, brown eyes, and even, pleasant features. He was quick to claim that his brain was his best asset but truthfully, his heart was up there too. He was one of the kindest people I knew. Once you were on the inside with Eric, you were there for good.

  Miles was a perfect example. He’d worked for Eric and Nick at EN Tech since the beginning and had become good friends with them. Eric almost always invited Miles to parties and bigger functions, so we all knew him. And his hot boyfriend, Andy.

  This was a news flash. I liked Miles and Andy. Huh.

  “So what happened?” I prodded.

  “According to Miles, Andy was untrue. His words, not mine. All I know is he’s crushed. He hasn’t said much more, and I haven’t pressed him for details. But…” Eric paused to give me a meaningful look. “I’d appreciate it if you made a point of being friendlier than usual.”

  “Friendlier than what? I’m always friendly. What exactly are you saying, Er?” I asked with a frown.

  Josh busted up laughing and yanked me backward to squeeze me in a headlock. “I think he wants you to finally take Miles up on his offer to see his Batman thong.”

  I pushed Josh away and glowered at Eric. “Please tell me he’s kidding.”

  “Of course he is,” Eric scolded as Zane pulled into a parking space in front of the winery. “I just meant that it would be nice if you went out of your way to say more than ‘hello’ and ‘good-bye.’ You tend to ignore him in one-on-one situations, Grant, and—”

  “No, I don’t,” I insisted, furrowing my brow.

  Eric raised his eyebrows knowingly. “You do. And I get it. Miles is high-energy with a lot of sass. I know he’s a lot to take sometimes, but he’s going through a rough patch. Be nice.” He held up his hand when he saw that I was about to defend myself. “Or at least, don’t run away.”

  “He scares me,” I blurted, only half-joking. “Besides, if there are sixty or seventy people there, I doubt he’ll even notice me.”

  “Dude, for a smart guy, you are spectacularly clueless sometimes.” Josh shook his head in mock consternation then gestured at
Finn to open the door.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I griped, narrowing my gaze at Eric. “Hang on. You aren’t trying to set us up, are you?”

  “No, I wouldn’t do that,” Eric assured me. “However…if you happen to run into him, you’d be doing me a huge favor if you engaged him in light conversation. That’s all.”

  “I can handle conversation, but if he does back me into a corner to show me his thong, you better rescue me,” I groused.

  Eric chuckled as he opened his door. “Deal.”

  I set my aviator sunglasses on my nose and hurried to join my friends who were busy plucking our overnight bags from the back of the SUV. Finn handed Josh a bag then playfully wrestled it away and slung his arm over his boyfriend’s shoulder. Like Zane and Eric, Finn and Josh were opposites.

  Finn was six two and built like a rugby player with broad shoulders and thick muscles. The guy was a hunk by anyone’s standards. He had light brown hair, hazel eyes, and a swoon-worthy Irish accent.

  Josh, on the other hand, was an inch shorter and much leaner with brown eyes and wild, brown hair that perpetually stood on end. Like now, I thought with a grin. Finn brushed a wayward lock of hair from Josh’s eyes then covered his mouth in a sweet kiss. I averted my gaze when the moment went on, and I started to feel like a creepy voyeur.

  I had a strong bond with all the guys in our small circle, but I was closest to Josh. We were assigned roommates our freshman year in college and became fast friends. Josh was outgoing, easy company. A perfect counterbalance to my quieter self. When Josh announced that he and Finn were a couple last year and then immediately moved in with his boyfriend, I lost my roommate and my platonic “plus one” to parties like this in one fell swoop. I was thrilled for my best friend but I had to admit, it was a little lonely without him.

  I hefted my bag over my shoulder and lifted my face to the clear blue sky. It was far too beautiful a day to succumb to melancholy, I mused as I took a deep breath of wine-country air. The calendar claimed it was late September, but it felt like summer. Seventy-five degrees, sunny, and not a cloud in the sky. There was a lightness in the atmosphere that invited me to set my worries aside for the weekend and just enjoy a night away with a group of friends who were like brothers to me.

  Oh yeah, and sixty strangers.

  A gaggle of smartly dressed thirtysomethings hovered in the foyer. I nodded to a few people I vaguely recognized as I made my way into the main tasting room, then stopped in my tracks to admire the gorgeous space. I’d visited a few wineries in Napa Valley, but Conrad Winery was by far my favorite. And it wasn’t because one of my friends was practically married to the owner.

  I loved the architecture. It was a sophisticated blend of old-meets-new: high ceilings with rough-hewn wood beams and stone walls juxtaposed beautifully with the modern pendant lighting over the bar and steel and glass wine shelving behind it. I loved the contrast of kitschy and traditional touches like the high barrel-topped tables and the enormous spherical iron chandelier that delineated the tasting area from the lounge area anchored at the far end by a giant fireplace.

  The hum of conversation and light laughter floated above the classic jazz piped through the speaker system, lending a welcoming and relaxing vibe to the space. I hooked my sunglasses on my shirt pocket and reached for Eric’s elbow before he was surrounded by his employees.

  “Hey, I need to return my dad’s call. I’ll meet up with you guys in a little bit.”

  “Okay. Leave your bag with us. We’ll take it to Wes and Nick’s place and put it in one of the guest rooms. Don’t forget, the cocktail party starts back here at five, and dinner is at seven thirty on the great lawn next to the courtyard.”

  “Er, I’m making a phone call, not bolting,” I assured him, pulling out my cell as proof.

  “Okay, I don’t want you to feel awkward. I know there are more work people here than friends, but it’ll be fun. I promise. Just…don’t let family stuff get to you.”

  “I won’t.” I gave him a wan smile and made a beeline for the exit just as Geordie, Wes and Nick’s friend, sashayed into the room, declaring it was time for a song.

  Ah, my cue to escape. I could hear the strains of “Happy Days are Here Again” followed by a round of applause and raucous cheering when the door swung shut behind me. I followed the gravel path between the tall lavender plants and glanced at my watch. It was three o’clock in the afternoon here, which meant it was dinnertime in Toronto. Knowing my father was a stickler for keeping a tight schedule, I figured it would be a short conversation.

  “Hi Papa, it’s me.”

  “Gio. Finally!” My father’s voice boomed through my cell as though he was next to me instead of thousands of miles away. “Where are you? I’ve been calling all afternoon.”

  “Sorry. I’ve been driving. I’m in Napa with my friends this weekend. I got your message. What did you decide to do?”

  “We’re coming tomorrow.”

  Three words never sounded quite so ominous. I closed my eyes for a second, willing myself to remain calm and if possible, act pleased at the prospect of a last-minute parental visit. “That’s great. How long are you staying?”

  If my father heard any lack of enthusiasm on my part, he chose to ignore it. “Long enough to introduce you to Stockton.”

  “I already have a meeting with him Monday, and I can handle it on my own. We agreed this was my job,” I replied tersely.

  “It is. But it’s also the largest deal our firm has ever landed. I should be there in the beginning and the end, Gio.”

  “No, you should trust me to do my job,” I snapped before adding in a more pleasant tone, “and after it closes, if you’re so inclined, then you come for a brief visit.”

  “Are you telling me how to run my company?”

  “No, sir, but—”

  “But nothing! You’ll be more than fairly compensated for your work. This deal will make you a very rich man.”

  “That’s nice, but this isn’t about the money. It’s about respect,” I huffed irritably.

  “I am the father.” He put emphasis on the word “father,” then repeated it in Greek. And any good Greek kid knew that was the end of the discussion. So I bit my tongue and did my best to formulate a deferential reply.

  When placating words failed me, I settled for the easy way out. “Yes.”

  “Why don’t you want me there? Is something wrong? Are you withholding information or—”

  “No! Of course not.” I stood abruptly and paced to the end of the path where gravel gave way to dirt. “But at some point, you need to trust me. I’m doing a good job here. The numbers are phenomenal. I can handle this sale and…I wish you’d let me prove it.”

  “Fine. If you don’t need me…that’s fine,” he said with faux nonchalance. I could picture him turning to my mother with a put-upon shrug when he added, “Our son doesn’t need us, Delia. He doesn’t need anyone at all.”

  “You know what I meant, Papa. Just let me know what time to expect you. I’ll see you and Mama tomorrow.”

  “Not so fast,” he barked. “Do you have…company?”

  Heat instantly flooded my cheeks. One would think after all this time that I’d stop flinching like a twelve-year-old accused of hitting a baseball through a window. I couldn’t help it. Something in the sound of his voice stripped a quarter of a century from my age. I braced myself for the judgment I suspiciously thought lurked behind my father’s carefully worded inquiry before replying.

  “No.”

  “What about your friend? The one with the crazy hair.”

  “Josh,” I supplied irritably, knowing it was futile to remind my dad he’d known Josh for over sixteen years.

  “Is he still living with you?”

  “No, he moved out months ago. He lives with his boyfriend now.”

  My tone was casual, but the message was not. Men didn’t talk about “boyfriends,” as far as my father was concerned. I may have come out years ago, but my sexu
ality wasn’t something we discussed. Ever. However, since he alluded to it, I wouldn’t back down. I had to find ways to let him know my sexuality wasn’t an act of defiance. It was simply who I was.

  My father grunted in response. The sound had a derisive quality that spoke louder than words. “Hmph. What time is the meeting Monday?”

  I gritted my teeth and swallowed my pride. “Ten o’clock.”

  “Very good,” he said before continuing in a conciliatory tone. “Don’t be cross, Gio. I’m only here to help.”

  “Of course.” My sarcasm was lost on him, but it was just as well. He wouldn’t listen to anything I said anyway. It didn’t matter that I was a Stanford grad with a business degree or that he lived in another country, for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t let go. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Our flight comes in at four p.m. And to answer your earlier question…we’ll be there for one week. Gia sou.”

  “Good-b—” He hung up on me. Ugh.

  I pulled my phone from my ear and stared at the screen for a moment, willing myself not to chuck it over my shoulder. I sighed heavily then slipped my cell into my back pocket and turned up the path toward the winery. I kept my head down, letting the crunch of gravel play a backbeat to my tumultuous thoughts.

  One whole week. I might actually go insane. Seven days was a long time. I might drown in skaltsounia, gain ten pounds, and—

  “I heard you were looking for me,” someone singsonged playfully.

  I stopped in my tracks. Fuck. Just what I needed. I pasted a smile on my face and dutifully stopped to say hello to the familiar figure sitting on the wooden bench under an olive tree.

  “How’s it going, Miles?”

  He cocked his head and then lowered his Ray Bans, diva-style. “Better now.”