Princes of the Universe

by Serene Franklin

  “Damn. Okay.”

  Elijah tilted his head up at me, eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you mean, ‘okay’?”

  I smirked and shrugged as I stood up and opened the door, welcoming just Andrea back in. She reclaimed her seat and looked at me expectantly. “Thank you for indulging my request. After some consideration, I’d like to move forward with your agency.”

  A genuine smile lit up her face while Elijah’s expression remained guarded. “That’s fantastic news, Bryan. We’re looking forward to crafting the best possible ad campaign for your business.”

  “About that,” I started, licking my lips. “I would love for Mr. Harper to be the agent in charge.” Elijah’s eyes went wide, as did Andrea’s. I probably shouldn’t have said it, and just left him alone, but it was out now. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to talk to him more—and I really did like all of his suggestions. I just needed to know what happened to him… why he disappeared.

  After the initial surprise, she once again conceded to my request after giving Elijah instructions to report in once our time concluded. A silence descended on the room when she left, and I didn’t want to be the first one to break it. Years of playing baseball gave me a patience I likely wouldn’t have otherwise possessed. Waiting for the right pitch was a necessary skill—being impatient and swinging at the wrong time could cost you the game. If Elijah wanted to wait me out, we’d be here all damn afternoon.

  “Why did you do that?” he finally asked. “Anyone working here could do this for you, and probably do it better.”

  “Mr. Harper—”

  “Elijah is fine.”

  “Elijah,” I amended, “perhaps any of your colleagues would do a bang-up job, but they’re not the ones who sold me.”

  Elijah shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be me.”

  “But it is.” I liked his ideas. Yes, I liked him too, but that was secondary. I got up from the head of the table, walked around closer to Elijah, and leaned against the table. I gripped the edge of the table in favor of crossing my arms. “I’d like to discuss your vision further, but I do recognize that this is very”—I waved a hand in front of my chest—“spur of the moment.” Elijah scoffed under his breath. I ignored it and carried on. “How long do you need to do… whatever it is you need to do before we can discuss the plan more?”

  “A week to do some preliminary research should be enough. I’ll also need to see the space. There were some pictures in your file, though seeing the space and the neighborhood will be beneficial for me. The sooner that happens, the sooner I can start my research.”

  “Okay. When works for you? I don’t want to interfere with your other projects, so I’ll work around your schedule,” I offered.

  Elijah closed the folder in front of him and sighed. “Today isn’t good for me. I can do tomorrow or Thursday.”

  “During working hours?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  I considered my options. I wanted to see him again as soon as possible, but I had a pick-up baseball game on Wednesday evening and I didn’t want to be rushed with Elijah. Just in case. “Thursday is best for me. How about eleven? I can pick you up here if you’d like.”

  “I can take the train or a bus, thanks,” he replied.

  “Will you do me a favor and leave Thursday evening open as well? I’d like to see you outside of the context of work.” Clearly we had some shit to talk about if we were to get rid of the awkward atmosphere between us. I figured Elijah would appreciate doing it off the clock, so as to not mix business with pleasure—so to speak.

  His mouth opened, the word “no” already forming on his lips, but then he snapped it shut. After a few moments of watching his jaw tighten, he said he’d keep his evening clear and it took all of my self-control not to make a scene. I nodded and told him I’d get out of his hair until Thursday. I didn’t want to leave, but it wasn’t always about what I wanted. I’d have my chance to talk to him in a couple of days, and I wouldn’t be greedy before then.

  “Looking forward to what you can do for me,” I said as I extended my hand.

  Elijah stood and shook my hand before ducking out of the room with the folder clutched tight in his grasp. I didn’t let myself appreciate how cute his ass looked in the fitted blue chinos he wore. Nope. And I definitely didn’t look twice.

  I went straight home after the meeting and was greeted by the usual sight of my roommate, blond hair a wild mess, in his boxers and a tank, typing away on his laptop at the kitchen island while bumping “Ice Ice Baby” through the surround sound. We had a perfectly fine kitchen table, but he liked to set up shop at the island sometimes—closest to the food with a direct line of sight to the TV, he’d say. He was a website programmer and worked a lot from home, loving the perks of being able to do so. Clearly.

  “Hey, man,” he called out without taking his eyes off his work. He suddenly stopped then looked up at me with narrowed eyes. “You’re back pretty damn early. Meeting not go well?”

  I tossed my keys onto the table by the door and made my way over to the kitchen to sit opposite Mac, facing the kitchen. He was a messy fucker in the kitchen and banned from doing any serious cooking, which suited him just fine. He kept the rest of our place immaculately clean, but the kitchen was my space. I decorated our kitchen and decked it out with high-end stainless steel appliances and wood countertops. The backsplash was tiled with gorgeous rustic bricks creating a style I hoped to replicate in my new bakery. I felt at home in this kitchen. Working in a place similar to it might cut down on the stresses of being a small-business owner. I hoped it would help, anyway.

  “The meeting went great, actually.” I leaned over the counter and propped myself up on my elbows. “Remember that awful bet we made in freshman year?”

  Mac’s face twisted into a shit-eating grin. “You mean when you foolishly bet against me like the noob you were and lost? Giving the world your short, but oh so memorable film career?”

  I bowed my head once while a smile pulled at my lips. “That’d be the one.”

  “What of it? Are you planning on throwing a viewing party again?”

  “First of all, it was you who threw the first one.”

  Mac held up his hands and shrugged. “Semantics.”

  “I don’t think that means what you think it means.”

  “Whatever. Get on with your story, bruh.”

  “Anyway, I filmed a scene with this really shy, cute guy, Elijah—”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember. He bailed on you or something,” Mac said, sparing his laptop a quick glance.

  “That’s the one. So, I walked into the ad agency today and who do you think was sitting in the boardroom next to the boss?”

  “Get the fuck out.” My smile got wider, and I waggled my brows at him. “Fuck, you’re serious. What the hell happened?”

  I sighed and filled Mac in on the meeting, what I said to Elijah privately, and my plan for after I showed him the new space on Thursday, not skimming over any details. Mac was a lot of things, but he was my best friend and my confidant, and had been for more than a decade. He’d tell me if I was way off base or not.

  “Does that sound okay?” I asked, tracing the wood grain under my fingertips.

  “I think it’s not going to go how you hope it will, Bry. I do hope I’m wrong, though. Just be prepared to accept that he might not change his mind or want to talk to you at all outside of what he has to for work. Your tall, dark, and handsome shtick might not be enough to make him not dread seeing you.”

  “It’s not a shtick,” I muttered.

  “Whatever, dude. You’re not usually broody, but if you keep on like this, you’ll be the perfect lead for the next teen vampire blockbuster.”

  I rolled my eyes at him and rolled my shoulders. “You’re right. I’m not acting like myself. You hungry? I feel like cooking.”

  “Is that a serious question? Of course I am.”

  I stepped around Mac and shooed him away to the table by the bay wi
ndows. I pulled a bunch of fresh veggies out of the fridge aimlessly and started dicing and julienning to clear my mind. I felt eyes on me and turned my attention back to Mac for a moment, not surprised to see his brown eyes watching me.

  “You’re so wifey material when you get like this, dude.”

  I couldn’t contain my smile and conceded to Mac’s infectious good mood as he cranked up the volume on “Jump Around.”

  Three

  Eli

  I finished the rest of my day with an unfocused mind. Avoidable mistakes were made as a result, which only frustrated me further. The worried glances Eve sent my way told me she knew something was bothering me, but she left me alone. This wasn’t something I could talk to her about—or anyone.

  My second-worst memory had been brought back to light, and I was in panic mode. And worse? Rhe—Bryan was potentially blackmailing me into doing God-knows-what with him after our meeting. I didn’t need him to explicitly say what was implied so clearly. I’d wanted to say no when he asked to see me after our official business, I’d wanted to shout it, storm out, and never see him again. But I couldn’t do it. He held a terrible secret over me, and I couldn’t bear to arbitrarily resist when I knew I’d bend if he pushed. I tried my best to push it from my mind and focus on work for the rest of the day.

  By the time I got home, I was itching to burn off my excess energy and go for a run. When I walked through the door, Prince greeted me with the same unadulterated enthusiasm she always did, immediately easing my mind. I dropped down to one knee and she jumped into my arms, attacking my face with kisses. I scratched behind her floppy ears and ruffled her short, dark gray fur before I kissed the top of her head.

  “Hey, sweet girl,” I cooed. “Did you miss me?” I situated Prince back on the floor and gave her some pats from head to tail while I removed my messenger bag from my shoulder and toed out of my shoes. I started to tell Prince about my day—as I always did—while I walked toward my bedroom. She was my shadow, nails clicking on the laminate flooring.

  I quickly changed into my running gear, talking away while Prince sat next to the bed, occasionally tilting her head while trying to understand my rambling. She really was the sweetest dog. She followed me back out to the front door where I grabbed her leash from the hook by the door. She sat for me without a command as I snapped it onto the O-ring on her collar. I gave her another pet on her head, then we were out the door.

  We ran along the Lakefront Trail for an hour, taking in the views of the boats on the lake to one side and the cityscape on the other. Prince was ten years old, and impeccably healthy. She had no trouble on our nightly runs. It had been hard work for me in the beginning, but I grew to like the exertion over the years. Running gave me a chance to clear my mind and take in the beauty around me that I so easily overlooked. The sun warmed my skin, reminding me that I’d forgotten to wear sunscreen. The hotter days meant Prince would have to start wearing her boots again to protect her footpads. She hated them—and probably me—when I first put them on her a few years ago, but the adjustment period had been short.

  I held her leash slack, not really needing it for her to obey, but using it anyway to abide by the regulations and keep other people at ease. Prince was a blue nose pit bull and because of that, some people were wary or frightened of her. It broke my heart to see people react that way, though there wasn’t much I could do to convince them otherwise in passing. Keeping her leashed in off-leash areas was another precaution I took for her safety as well. If it was late and no one else was around, I’d unclip the leash and let her tear around or we’d play fetch. Fetch often ended in me watching her eat sticks.

  Back at home, I unclipped Prince, refreshed her water bowl, and scooped out her dinner while she patiently waited. She always looked like she was smiling, but that was especially true when food was involved. I set her dish down and gave the command for her to know it was okay to move and devour her high-protein kibble. Satisfied that she was looked after, I turned around in my small kitchen and flipped on the back burner. Baked chicken breast and a rice pilaf sounded like a pretty decent idea for dinner. It was my favorite thing to make, and I’d hoped it would let me hang on to the peace I’d achieved from my run just a bit longer. I’d have plenty of time to worry about Bryan Rettger later.

  I stood outside of the building my GPS led me to. The storefront had large windows and painted white bricks that needed some freshening up. Double-checking the address once more, I sighed and opened the door to let myself in. Bryan was nowhere in sight, so I took a few moments to take in the space. It was dusty and full of rows of shelving, like it was once a bookstore or small convenience store. Given the location and dark paint on the walls, I’d say it was the former. The space extended further back into another room. The door to the room was propped open, but I couldn’t see inside from where I stood. I figured Bryan had to be back there and called out for him. Footsteps caught my attention from beyond the door, quick and light, making me doubt it was in fact Bryan coming my way.

  He was pretty solid looking and muscular. I’d have imagined him to be heavy-footed. And I was wrong. Bryan pushed the door open and smiled when he saw me. He had on a white zip-up suit, likely to protect his clothes, and kind of looked like a jovial serial killer. Or maybe that was just how I saw him, given the circumstances. He didn’t look like a sleazy asshole, what with his easy smile and soft green eyes, but here we were. As he approached, I noticed that he had subtle dimples under the scruff covering his jaw and lip, the same intense black as the hair on his head. There were white chunks of what looked like plaster in his hair, which would explain the serial killer get-up.

  “Hey,” he greeted, speaking in a soft tone incongruous with his rugged brand of handsome, as Eve had described it. Then again, him opening a bakery of all things seemed pretty out of character as well.

  “Good morning,” I returned, hating how stiff I sounded. Bryan’s furrowed brow showed me that he’d noticed as well, which only made the rest of my body go tense. He took another step toward me and I reflexively stepped back, bumping into the corner of one of the shelves.

  Bryan froze mid-step and held out his hands palms up. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

  I felt lightheaded. What would I do if he told me he wanted… God, I couldn’t even finish the thought without feeling bile rise in my throat.

  “Elijah, are you okay? You don’t look so hot.” Bryan looked around the room and nodded over at a chair near the wall. I sat down and couldn’t meet his eyes when he knelt in front of me.

  “I’m good.” I nodded then added, “Just a bit tired. So, this is the space, huh?”

  Bryan cocked his head to the side, clearly not buying my reasoning for my behavior, but he let it slide. “Yeah. This is my baby. It’s not much to look at right now,” he said as he gestured around, “but we’ll get there. Can I get you some water or something?”

  “No, thank you. I’m really okay. How about you show me around, so I can get to planning.” Bryan still didn’t look convinced, though he nodded and proceeded to do just that for the next hour.

  We looked at the inside space where Bryan showed me design plans, and we walked a couple of blocks to see what else was around and what kind of foot traffic there was during lunchtime. I had some pretty decent notes by the time we returned to the store and was eager to get started on a plan. The uneasiness I felt earlier was pushed to the back of my mind while we were out, but now that we were alone again I could feel it creeping back.

  Bryan was a really nice guy, and under different circumstances, we maybe could have been friends, even. The whole blackmail thing was kind of a big deal, and something I couldn’t ignore no matter how much I tried.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked, snapping me back to reality. “You look like you’re thinking.”

  “Ah, the space has a lot of potential and the location is great. You have a lot of work to do, but the designs you showed me will help me tailor the marketing strategy. I want it to be
harmonious with the way you’re going to conduct business and the vibe this place will have. I need to do a lot of research, but I can make a campaign that’ll be appropriate for what you hope to convey.”

  Bryan smiled at me and stepped closer—close enough so that I could see his dimples again. “I totally made the right call with you.”

  His pale green eyes turned dark and pinned me in a way that made me want to run. I thought he was going to kiss me before he glanced off to the side and returned a neutral gaze on me. He asked me if I’d like to accompany him for a drink to celebrate our new working relationship, and I couldn’t stand the waiting any longer.

  “What do you want from me?” I murmured. It felt like that was all I knew how to ask him.

  “Ah, I’m not sure what you mean.” He sounded genuinely confused.

  “Just tell me what you want me to do. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything if it means you won’t tell anyone about…” My eyes shot to my feet as my voice trailed off. I managed to speak without wavering, but now that it was out, I wanted to crawl inside myself and hide. Or throw up.

  “What? Elijah, Jesus Christ—do you think I’m trying to blackmail you or something?” Bryan sounded stricken, like the words tasted off on his tongue.

  I chanced a glance up at him, startled by his tone more than his words. He looked just as troubled as his voice had suggested. And then I felt like the biggest idiot, and an asshole. Shame and embarrassment battled within me for dominance, and I turned away so Bryan couldn’t see my expression, as if that would make the situation better. Heat flooded my cheeks and my pulse was pounding so hard that I started to sweat.