Pure Fluff: A Limited Edition Valentine's Day Bundle

by BLMorticia

  Regardless, he got the message. Brendan was indeed interested in talking to him but wasn't keen on making his personal business public. Latte could certainly understand, being from the south where he had to hide in the shadows almost every day of his life.

  Now that he moved up to Chicago, he expected to live life outside of the closet and eventually he wanted a partner willing to do the same.

  Chapter Three

  After staying at Cathy's for another half hour, Brendan reluctantly got on the elevator. If only they could've talked more, but obviously the guy was really busy.

  Frustrated, Brendan stepped off and walked straight through the double doors to where his secretary answered calls and greeted visitors. "Morning, Mr. Walsh. Your father--"

  "Yes, I know, Delia. Anything else I missed?"

  Delia shrugged and looked away in embarrassment. "Um, no. Just him, quite upset that you missed the conference call."

  "Thanks."

  Brendan strolled past the conference room where he heard the call still going on. He continued to his office to enjoy the rest of his macchiato in silence. Brendan was grateful to miss the meeting because he already knew what it entailed. Possibly another takeover which meant a lot more work for him.

  When Brendan arrived at his office, he turned the golden handle and opened it wide. He closed the door behind him, eyeing the space he liked to call his sanctuary. Coffee brown walls with plush off white carpeting covered the floors leading to his cherry wood desk with a leather chair behind and two in front. A picturesque window flanked the space, showing a beautiful view of the Chicago skyline.

  In deep thought, Brendan leaned against the doorframe and savored his latte a little longer than usual.

  "You make a tasty macchiato. I wonder what else you're good at doing."

  Brendan walked to his desk and set the drink down. Immediately, he plopped in his executive chair and like a kid on the playground, used his feet to spin the contraption around, making himself laugh.

  No man he'd brought home left an impression on him like the barista. They hadn't had the chance to discuss anything, but something about Latte drew Brendan in.

  Despite not knowing a damn thing about the man, Brendan hoped to discover more about him a lot sooner than later.

  Now, it was up to Latte to take the hint and come up to Brendan's floor as he had asked.

  "Brendan?" Alexander's terse tone broke the silence. He knocked once and walked in without asking. His steely blue eyes caught Brendan's gaze.

  "Yes?"

  "Why weren't you at the meeting? We had some very important business to discuss regarding the Buttersfield Merger."

  "I already have those details. I've been studying them since before we bought them out."

  "I'm sure, but you, as the President of this company, should be present to offer your expertise."

  "Why? So, you can shoot down everything I say?" Brendan wouldn't allow his dad to ruin his high right now.

  "I don't shoot down everything, only ideas I see aren't good for the company. The Butterfield's wondered where you were. I had to lie and say you were on another urgent call. Why didn't you show up?"

  "I needed coffee. I stopped down at Cathy's and we ran a little over in our conversation. Did you know Bill passed away?"

  "No." Alexander shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. "I'm sorry to hear that, but, regardless, you should've been there. Make sure you're not late for our dinner tonight."

  "Dad, I told you I'm not going. I have too much work to."

  Working on getting Latte into my bed.

  Brendan smiled to himself. "I need to do those projections so I can have them for the next monthly directors meeting."

  "Why can't your financial manager do it?"

  "Because he's on leave with his partner. They're having a baby."

  "A baby? What on earth is this country coming to? Gays shouldn't be allowed to have kids, period!" He snapped. "Just another reason why I need to get you married to a woman to bring me an heir."

  Brendan shook his head and clawed the arms of his chair. His father's homophobic outbursts had gotten old. "For god sakes, I wonder how mother put up with all your bigoted ideas after all these years. Gay men ..." Brendan exhaled, stopping himself for getting into an argument. "Nevermind. Like I said, don't bother having Gilbert come by and pick me up. I'll be too busy."

  "Brendan. This is not a choice, it's an order. You're almost thirty. A handsome man like you shouldn't be alone. Work on those figures right now and leave the night for our dinner. We must make a good impression on the Harrisford's if we intend to make them part of the Walsh umbrella. What better way to do that then by getting our lovely children married?"

  Brendan dropped his head in defeat, knowing this was a fight he wouldn't win. If he let this go on, he'd have an ugly migraine. "Whatever. Just leave so I can get to work."

  "That's my boy." Alexander clapped and turned on his heel. "And wear your best tonight please. We're going to that fancy French place in River North. Bring her some flowers." His father closed the door behind him.

  Thoroughly annoyed, Brendan finished his drink and tossed the cup in the nearby trashcan. He slid downward, sinking in his chair wishing he could make himself smaller to disappear into the seat, never to be heard from again.

  Days after making Brendan his macchiato, Latte noticed he'd made a habit of coming downstairs. They'd exchange small talk, pleasantries and nothing more because Latte knew Brendan wasn't out.

  Once he got his coffee, Brendan would sit at the table and watch Latte work. Though Latte enjoyed it, he also found it nerve wracking.

  Hot bossman observed his every move, not making any attempt to get any closer.

  Latte figured he needed to do something to get the ball rolling. Today seemed to be a good say as ever.

  "Soooo..." Cathy nudged Latte from the side, interrupting him from cleaning.

  "So?" Latte continued to scrub the milk pitcher.

  "Is something going on between you and the boss?"

  Latte stopped and nibbled on his bottom lip. "You saw and heard everything a few days ago."

  "Well yeah, but I had no idea he was gay."

  "He's clearly in the closet. That's why I didn't push. But you best believe I will be trying to get in good with him."

  "Atta boy. I can tell he likes you ... a lot. He gave you a ten dollar tip, only behind Miss Belinda with her twenty the first time you made her coffee." She grinned.

  "Mhmm. Well, I got no interest in the biggest tipper. Nothing she's said or done interests me. The man who runs this place, does. He's got my full attention." Latte smiled to himself. "How long have you known him?"

  "We've been in this space three years. His dad is an asshole, so I'm not surprised he's kept his sexuality under wraps."

  Latte sighed inwardly. He'd hoped Brendan would be about ready to wave his rainbow flag, but Cathy confirmed that wasn't the case.

  "Damn. That's a shame. My parents didn't get it either. That's when I had to tell them sayonara. Anyways, I don't think you caught him inviting me up to fifteen. I'm wondering should I go today."

  Cathy patted his shoulder. "Why not? If he asked, you should go see him."

  "I think you're right. I'll do just that ... as soon as I finish the dishes." Latte turned back to the sink.

  "No, I'll finish up for you." Cathy shoved him away and picked up where Latte left off.

  "Aw, thanks." Latte dried his hands and rushed to the coat rack. He grabbed his coat and other belongings. "I'll see you tomorrow bright and early."

  "Yep. Make sure you come back ready to talk. I wanna hear details!"

  "Okay!" Latte scurried out the shop, turning the lock to get out. Once Derrick closed the door, Latte ran to the nearest express elevator.

  Chapter Four

  After finishing the projected numbers for the next board meeting Brendan flicked his pen and covered his face with his hand. All the figures, the numbers, so many zeroes practic
ally blinded him, making him dizzy.

  I need a drink.

  If only he could go home and enjoy a couple of beers or a bottle of wine before going to bed. Instead, he had another boring dinner with his father and their client, Mister what's his name.

  Harrisford?

  Brendan sighed inwardly and leaned back in his chair. He wished he could fake sick but, that would only cause problems later.

  Elder Mr. Walsh wouldn't take no for an answer. He'd make his life a living hell.

  "Mr. Walsh? Um, Brendan?"

  Brendan straightened in his chair and opened one eye. "Yes, Suzette?"

  "Someone's here to see you."

  "Who? I'm sorry, I really don't feel like seeing anyone right now--"

  "A young man who claims he works at Cathy's." She interrupted him.

  Latte?

  Immediately, Brendan's lips curled into a smile. "Oh, send him in. Please, hold all calls including any from my father."

  "Yes, sir." She bowed her head and stepped out.

  The minute she disappeared, Brendan panicked.

  How do I look?

  Brendan wished he could check, but Latte was right there. Instead, he plucked his phone out of his pocket and turned the camera on.

  Brendan raked his fingers through his hair and checked the teeth. Good thing he'd gotten good sleep the night prior.

  Brendan set his phone down and drummed his fingers on the desk. This was the first time they'd get to talk without the roving eyes of customers and Cathy's other employees.

  Brendan wanted to make the best of it.

  "Brendan? Hey." Latte poked his head in.

  "Hello. Please come in and have a seat."

  Suzette walked him in, offering the chair in front of Brendan's desk.

  "Thanks. I hope I'm not disturbing you from something important."

  When he sat, Brendan's eyes met Latte's emerald green gaze. With the apron off, Brendan caught sight of the rest of Latte's outfit. Well fitted midnight blue dungarees and the white turtleneck ended at the waistband of his jeans. When Latte stretched, his v-muscles peeked from under his shirt.

  Fuck me, please.

  Latte was built in all the right places. His tawny colored skin, the mustache and goatee cut perfectly. Brendan wondered why this man wasn't walking a runway instead of toiling in a coffee shop.

  "Oh, I'm not doing anything now. I wasn't sure if you'd actually take me up on my offer, but it is a pleasant surprise nonetheless."

  "Oh ... well, I suppose it was a mixture of Cathy pushing and me being forward, especially after you continued coming to see me. I hope you don't mind."

  Brendan grimaced at the mention of Cathy's name. "Um ... yes, well--"

  "Relax, Brendan. Cathy will keep your secret safe. Believe me, I get it. Until I came out, staying in the closet was the hardest thing I'd ever done. That's one of the reasons I moved here."

  Hearing that, Brendan sighed in relief. He was glad to hear the guy had the same issues at one time. "Thanks, Latte. I appreciate that. My father is--"

  "Difficult? Cathy clued me in. No worries."

  "Good. Well, let's move on. I wished I could've stayed a little longer, but work calls. Truthfully when I got here, I only thought about you." The minute Brendan finished talking, he wondered why he'd made that statement.

  "Same here. I was afraid of coming on too strong, but I figured, what the heck? We made a connection the first day we met."

  "Yes, I'd agree. From the minute you made me coffee, you had me hooked."

  "Yeah? I hope it was for more than the macchiato."

  Brendan leaned forward and unbuttoned his suit jacket. "Oh yes, it definitely was. Okay, first thing. Is there a reason, other than your occupation, that you're called Latte?"

  Latte laughed. "Yeah. Back in New Orleans, they called me Latte because of how easy going I am. I don't get rattled. The skin tone has a little to do with it too."

  "Ah, that's special. And do you prefer being called Latte or..."

  "I do, but people who get close to me call me Davori. Davori Jenkins is my birth name."

  "Davori. That's original, I love it. Does it have a significant meaning?"

  "No, just my parents wanting to be different. David is my father's name and Rita is my mother's. So it's the first parts of their names together with an 'o' in the middle. Makes no sense, but I didn't have a say at birth."

  Brendan snickered. "No, you didn't. I really like it and the Latte name, too. I swear, it's been too long since I went downstairs. Cathy's business is booming, she hires a new, overly attractive employee..."

  Latte's skin pinked and he dropped his gaze. "Talk about laying it on thick."

  "We're both going for the same goal, then. Letting each other know exactly how we feel?"

  "Yep. I know this is work and it's not the most comfortable place for you to talk, so, how about dinner tonight?"

  Brendan pursed his lips. He clenched his fists, thinking of how his father was already messing up his plans with Latte. "I'm sorry. Unfortunately, I have an important business dinner this evening my father won't let me out of. Perhaps, I could make it up to you, tomorrow?"

  "Sure. In the meantime, then, why don't we exchange phone numbers and set up another time?"

  "That would be great." Brendan pulled his cell from his pocket and handed it to him. "If you don't mind, we could talk once I get home. Or will that be too late?"

  Latte accepted the phone. "I'd say you're worth me losing sleep. I'm usually at the shop around five in the morning, but as long as I'm not too late, Cathy will understand."

  Heat rushed to Brendan's cheeks. He took his phone back. "If you're late, blame me," he added a chuckle. "Say around ten ish?"

  "I'll still be awake. I'm in a hurry to finish my next piece."

  "Your next ..."

  "Oh, good grief. I'm sorry. I'm an artist."

  Brendan's ears perked. He loved a creative soul and had a special interest in paintings since his brother did that and made music. "Really? What do you paint?"

  "Mostly portraits or people of interest. Occasionally, I'll step out and do something off the wall. I'm trying to get places to show my work. Eventually open my own gallery."

  "That's wonderful. You know, Latte or Davori, I'd love to see some of your work and feature it here. We've got walls with boring photographs and ugly art. We could use something unique."

  "Really? Aw man, that would be awesome. I'd love to show you some tomorrow night. And since its Friday, why don't we have a little after dinner drink?"

  "Hmm, I'd like that. Is your work showing somewhere now?"

  "Yeah, my buddy, Tig's club in the West Loop. Eclectic."

  Brendan cocked an eyebrow. "What kind of place is it?"

  "Oh, no worries, my man, it's a jazz club. Open to everyone, not a gay establishment, but Tig is gay too. He's actually the reason I moved here. When he offered me a place to stay and work a little on the side, I jumped at it."

  "That's great you could move here after issues at home. I'm looking forward to seeing the place. Jazz music is my favorite. I listen while I work, drive, shower ... have a good time with someone special."

  Latte chuckled and flashed a pearly white smile. "Sounds like we're a match. And, the fact we're looking to go the same speed, excites me even more."

  Brendan leaned forward and touched Latte's chin, then moved his hand. If he would've kept it there any longer, he might've brought him in and refused to let go. "Yes, me too. What can I say, I enjoy going after someone I like. I'm also a private person, though. I don't like all my business out the street." He put his hand on the desk, but kept his eyes focused on him.

  "I perfectly understand. Like I said, I been there so ..."

  "Brendan, I wanted to talk with you about ..." Brendan's father's voice interrupted their conversation. "Oh, um ... I apologize. I had no idea someone was here with you."

  Brendan glared at his father. Surely his dad wasn't ashamed for what he did. If anything,
Brendan was more embarrassed about a grown man not having simple manners.

  Damn, I wish he'd go back to California!

  Chapter Five

  "Father, you could have knocked."

  Latte froze and eyed Brendan closely. He noticed his tense expression, surmising that this conversation needed to be cut short immediately. "No worries, Mr. Walsh. Thanks for the opportunity. We'll be in touch." He stood and held out his hand.

  Brendan accepted and his frown changed to a smile. "You're welcome, Mr. Jenkins. Expect a call from me tomorrow then."

  Latte mouthed, "Call me." He winked. Immediately, he grabbed his coat and turned around, nodding at Mr. Walsh on the way out. "Have a good day, sir."

  "You too," he responded, not looking back up at him.

  Shit, I wonder did he see something.

  "Have a good day, Miss Suzette." Latte left, hoping Alexander didn't catch a glimpse of the heated stares between them. When the elevator stopped, he quickly walked on.

  "Whew." Latte held his chest and leaned against the paneling. Though exciting to live dangerously, the last thing he wanted was Brendan's father to catch them in the middle of a moment.

  And what a moment it was!

  Latte licked his lips, thinking about Brendan sitting behind the desk. It took everything to stop himself from grabbing Brendan and kissing him like no tomorrow.

  Looking at Brendan up close and personal fueled Latte's fantasies. Though they'd met at the coffee shop days earlier, being in his office talking about dinner and drinks afterward got Latte's blood rushing to his groin in a hurry.

  About damn time too, since he'd been here for months with no boyfriend prospects to speak of.

  Brendan proved to be more than just a prospect, however. Latte wanted to know more about Brendan Walsh right away.

  After braving the cold Chicago winds, Latte made it home to his apartment. A friend of Tig's subleted the apartment to him before he finally took over the lease. Latte couldn't have been more grateful.

  "Brrr..." Latte ran inside and leaned against the door to close. He blew on his fingers and danced in place, trying to warm up, but it didn't help.