by Aliana James
His approach and his micromanaging caused project managers to complain but he couldn’t help the need to keep track of everything. He inherited a disaster of a division; it had taken long hours to get it to work. Everything might fall apart if he didn’t check things.
He stretched and tried to relax his shoulders. He could use a night out.
Damn. He forgot to ask Travis if he was working tonight. Travis never mentioned why he started bartending at Raven early last year. It baffled him considering Travis had a well-paying day job. But he liked the club, and it gave him somewhere to be on the weekend.
He reached into his pocket, pulled his phone out, and sent Travis a quick text message.
You working tonight?
Yeah, I’ll be in around eight. Everything okay with William?
No, everything wasn’t but Alec wasn’t about to get into it in a text message.
I’ll fill you in later.
See you then.
His phone buzzed on his desk and he smiled as he picked it up.
“Hi Thalia.” His cousin ran Bennett Engineering like a well-oiled machine. She micro-managed worse than he did.
“Alec, what the hell is going on?”
“I’m guessing you’ve spoken to Grandfather this morning?”
“He called me earlier and told me I needed to get fucking married! Married, Alec! This is the twenty-first century, for Christ’s sake.”
Thalia was a petite, slender woman. Known for her vocabulary that would put a truck driver to shame, many men made the mistake of underestimating her because of her looks. Alec had given up trying to warn them. It was more amusing for him to watch the fireworks.
“According to him, all of us have to get married.”
“This is bullshit.” She groaned. “I hate it when he gives orders. Do you have any idea how much I’ve done for this company? How much I’ve sacrificed?”
Alec had a good idea. Thalia’s son Grayson, only seven years old, spent most of his time at home with a nanny.
“I met Antonio this morning.”
“You did? I still haven’t seen him. I’ve been ignoring Julian’s requests for us to meet.” Antonio hadn’t contacted her and she’d complained to Alec several times.
“It wasn’t horrible. Maybe he has his reasons for not contacting you.” He didn’t trust Antonio. But he was Thalia’s brother. “You’ll never find out until you speak with him.”
“Well, they’d better be convincing ones. Julian started talking to him two years ago. And Antonio is only now introducing himself?”
Something didn’t sound right to Alec either but he could only speculate so much.
“When are you coming back?” he asked.
“Wednesday.” She huffed. “Things look good here, and I’m leaning toward recommending this location for the next resort. If we can buy the land at a decent price.”
If they brokered a good price, he’d be spending most of his time in Mexico.
“Was it true they rose the price?”
“Yeah, the minute we showed interest.” Policy dictated they send a team under the radar but this time, Thalia didn’t trust anyone else but her and her team to get it done.
“We’ll talk when I get back to New York.”
“Be safe.”
Once she was back home, he’d have one less thing on his long list of concerns.
He shrugged his jacket off and scanned the first site report. Numbers were not his favorite, but he forced himself to keep track of them. He’d rather be out in the field with his power tools.
He was concentrating on the latest report from accounting when there was a knock at his door and it opened. Antonio stood in the doorway. Why? He had left him at their grandfather’s house.
A visit scheduled at the construction site had him in his construction gear. It didn’t stop him from being annoyed at Antonio’s polished loafers or shiny cufflinks. Antonio’s dark hair and olive skin reminded him of Travis, but Travis was a half a foot taller.
Antonio walked into his office. “I hope you don’t mind me being here.”
Alec stood to shake his hand. “No problem. I’m surprised to see you so soon.”
“Grandfather insisted I come.”
“I see.” He answered with a frown.
He watched as Antonio flinched and didn’t blame him. Antonio sat down, his eyes sad and tired, and pressed his lips together. “You don’t trust me, do you? I understand.”
Antonio was correct. He didn’t trust him but he sympathized. Neither one of them had great fathers. It didn’t mean Alec shouldn’t extend an olive branch.
“Can I give you a tour of the office? You can see the projects we’re working on.”
Antonio’s face brightened. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”
Alec gestured for him to follow. He introduced him to Greta, his assistant, and walked with him to what he called the project room. All the latest projects adorned the walls, site maps, surveys, design ideas and checklists all on display. It made it easy to get a current idea of the progress being made. In the beginning, he was the only one using it but after the first few months lots of his staff used the space.
Antonio asked questions about each project and its various stages. He smiled as he imagined Antonio’s and Thalia’s departments working together.
As they walked back into his office, Greta entered with two cups of coffee and closed the door behind them. This coffee had nothing on Spanish coffee, so he expected the grimace from Antonio after the first sip.
He laughed. “Yeah, after you drink a Café Cortado, it’s hard to get used to drinking this.”
“So you’ve been to Spain then?”
“Junior year of college, I did a semester abroad. Studied in Barcelona. Loved it.”
“Gorgeous culture and people.”
He didn’t want to get into this morning’s events but damn if he wasn’t curious on his cousin’s take.
“So what do you think of all this?”
“By this, you mean…?”
“Grandfather. His new set of rules.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand why Grandfather had me come to the United States if he insisted on carrying out these… what is the word? In Spanish, it’s disparatado.”
“Ah, crazy.”
“Crazy. Yes, his crazy rules. They made no sense.”
None of it made sense, and it bothered Alec. His grandfather didn’t make rules and ultimatums. But it was happening. He thought of his grandfather’s trip to Spain a month ago. He had mentioned the business meetings but convinced both Thalia and Alec it was more for pleasure.
“Why did you come?”
Julian was the only one who had spoken to Antonio. To be honest, it surprised Alec that Thalia didn’t know Antonio was coming, as close as she and Julian were.
“Grandfather can be very convincing. He always has been.”
Shock came over Alec. “How long has Grandfather been in contact with you?”
“Since I was in high school. He’s the reason I studied architecture.” Antonio smiled. “He visited me when my father was not there. They do not get along, those two.”
So many years gone by, they had never been introduced. Why? And why hadn’t Grandfather said he had kept in touch? Antonio was a mystery.
“I heard you and your father are close. How does he feel about you being here?”
Antonio crossed his leg over his knee and rested his arm over it. “I haven’t seen him. And you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” He looked around at Alec’s office. “You’ve been in the construction side of the business a long time, yes?”
Alec narrowed his eyes at the change in subject. “Since I was ten. I visited sites with our great-grandfather. Even in his nineties, he insisted on visiting sites every Saturday and he’d take me with him.”
“To gain this experience at such a young age, it must have been nice, yes?”
“Not something I took for granted.”
“I’m sure. About these rules, I am unsure why he asked me here only to put restrictions on what I can and cannot do. But for now, I intend to conform.”
“And find a wife?”
“Yes, I suppose so.” Antonio paused for a minute.
“So when do you start work?”
Antonio’s shoulders relaxed. “Monday. The division is new, yes?”
“Very new. A handful of new hires pulled in from various departments make up the staff. The architects from my division transferred over.”
“It makes sense. And the design for the model homes…” He waved his hand in the air as he tried to think of the word.
“We outsource those. The main reason I suggested we start this division is because it costs a fortune.”
“Grandfather mentioned it was your idea. Well, it’s no longer your concern. I can take it from here.”
Antonio got up and buttoned his jacket. He extended his hand and Alec shook it. “I have taken up too much of your time. I can tell Grandfather we spoke. He requested we work together, so I hope we can do so. I don’t want to disappoint him.”
He understood the feeling.
“I overheard your conversation earlier with Grandfather. He sounded supportive of you finding a husband. I’m surprised he doesn’t have a problem with it.”
His abrupt change in conversation baffled Alec. Antonio had spent time with Grandfather; he should know how accepting he was.
“He put you in charge of construction,” Antonio said.
Alec studied his cousin. His face showed no malice, just curiosity. He was his uncle’s son, and Uncle Weston had never accepted that Alec was gay.
“Do you share the same views as your father, Antonio?”
“My father does not share the views of his father, so do not assume I share his.” Antonio’s nostrils flared. Before he could reply, Antonio walked out of his office.
He must have struck a nerve.
Travis
Two text messages, one missed call, and a voicemail from Peter. After listening to the voicemail and rolling his eyes, Travis pulled up his messages to reply to his text.
Got your voicemail. Will stop and pick up what you need. See you in 30.
He walked into the grocery store. One perk when he dated Peter: his proximity to his parents’ house. They shopped at the same grocery store.
If he kept his visit with Peter short, he still had time to catch a nap before work tonight. Creamer, a dozen eggs, and a package of American cheese and he was at the checkout. Only a twenty-dollar bill remained in the billfold when he opened his wallet. He’d had at least one hundred and fifty dollars last week and couldn’t afford to keep paying for these things, even if it was a couple items at a time. It added up quick.
A few minutes later, he knocked on Peter’s door.
“Just a minute.”
Peter opened the door and Travis pushed it open further. Peter propped himself up by his cane, his hair wild, his eyes pained as if it had taken every bit of energy for him to make it to the door.
Travis sat the groceries by the door and put his arm around the man.
“Thanks,” Peter said as he slumped into Travis.
Travis shifted to accommodate his weight. When they dated, Peter religiously practiced yoga and kept his body lean. Now his body had less muscle tone as Travis slipped his arm around his waist and half-dragged him to the couch.
“Sorry,” Peter said. He ran his hand over his face to wake himself up. “Rough morning. The rain.”
“I know. My dad complained about his back this morning.”
Travis went back to the door and grabbed the groceries. The floor plan of Peter’s house meant he could see Peter from the kitchen.
“Receipt.” He held it up for Peter and placed it on the counter. “You owe me for the last two trips too.”
“Remind me before you leave. I’ll write you a check.” Peter grabbed a pillow and propped his leg over it. “How’s your dad?”
“Oh, the usual. Giving my mom a hard time.” Travis laughed. “Someone put a loaf of bread and an apple in the pantry and let it rot. The smell was horrible.”
“Oh no. Good thing you found it.”
“Yeah, well, I took the blame for it.”
“What?”
Travis shifted a couple items to the left on the fridge shelf to make room for the creamer. He took out a container from the back of the fridge and checked the expiration date.
“Stop checking expiration dates!” Peter said with a laugh.
“If you wouldn’t make a habit of using expired items, I wouldn’t have to, would I?” he teased as he folded the bags and stowed them on the pantry shelf.
“You were telling me about your parents.”
“Oh. Mom was about to blame Dad, so I said it was me.”
“And your mother believed you?” Peter asked.
“I don’t think so.” A stack of empty bottles threatened to fall over onto the floor. One more thing for him to take care of while he was here.
“Tyler called me last week,” Peter said from his spot on the couch.
“He did? Did he say anything about himself?” Travis didn’t know Tyler had Peter’s number.
“No, he didn’t say much. Just wanted to touch base, I guess.” Peter shifted in his seat, his eyes fixed on the floor. “I guess you never told him you stop by to help me.”
No, he hadn’t. But last night, Tyler had mentioned something about fixing things. He must’ve been talking about the phone call.
He didn’t want the two of them in touch with each other. He had no interest in dating Peter again and he didn’t want Peter finding out about Tyler’s gambling problems.
A layer of scruff covered Peter’s face. He always put it off until the itchiness got to be too much. Because he sometimes couldn’t stand up too long, it made shaving difficult.
“How about I give you a shave before I go?”
“Yes, please.” Peter smiled. “I really appreciate you coming over here.”
They shuffled to the bathroom together and Travis helped Peter sit on the closed lid of the toilet. He gathered all the supplies on the counter.
“Were you planning on growing a beard?” he joked.
“No. Just didn’t think about it. At least until you mentioned it.”
Travis put a hand on his shoulder to stop Peter from leaning into him. He ignored Peter’s sad eyes and lathered his cheek with shaving cream. Travis couldn’t handle any more regret.
Peter had suggested several times they get back together. It wasn’t something he wanted to even consider. While it hurt when Peter left him, Travis understood why he did. And though it took him a couple months, he was happier without Peter.
The car accident left Peter pissed and short-tempered. Gone was the flirtatious, fun-loving man. In his place was an unfocused, insecure one who drove away all his new friends and the new boyfriend.
He was sure this wasn’t his health. Peter suffered from depression. Their relationship had evolved into a strange codependence: he called Peter to talk, and Peter would ask him to stop over when he wasn’t feeling well enough to go to the store. Travis was unsure what possessed him to still visit.
He ran the razor over Peter’s cheek and shook it in the sink full of water. Peter tried to talk.
“If you don’t want me to cut you, I suggest you stop talking. Hold still.”
Travis glanced at his watch and sighed. His window to catch up on sleep was getting smaller and smaller.
Chapter Three
Travis
The wind picked up as Travis walked from his apartment to the club. He held the top of his jacket closed to ward off the chill. It was brutal, but at least the rain had stopped.
Another gust of wind blew his hair back as he walked around the corner. On the outside, Raven looked like a rundown warehouse. It was by sheer accident he found this job. When he found out how close it was to his place, it cemented his decision. He put all those years of moonlighting in a
bar in college to good use.
The head bouncer, Jaime, waved as he entered through the alley door and ducked into the breakroom to hang up his coat. He grabbed the leather pants out of his backpack. His apartment building leaned toward conservative, and this differed from the suits he wore at his daytime job. In the dimly lit bathroom, he added a line of black eyeliner to his brown eyes and a collar to his neck. A few squirts of mousse added volume and height to his hair.
“Hey, man,” Eric said, and he waved in response. Travis wasn’t the only one moonlighting; Eric worked on Wall Street.
The basement housed the supply room, the offices, a tiny employee bathroom and the break room. The staircase, dark and narrow, made it difficult to carry up cases of booze. Billy, the club owner, had added lighting but without fail someone left them on, bulbs blew, and then there was no one to climb up and change them. A bouncer held a flashlight if needed but most of the staff navigated the dimly lit staircase from memory.
A small bar with several bar tops sat on the main floor, while the second floor had a huge dance floor with the DJ booth. The second-floor bar ran the entire length of the wall. Travis preferred the side closer to the back. It was easier to hear the drink orders.
In the corner past the bar, the staircase to the third floor led to what the owner, Billy, called the VIP room. Travis wasn’t sure what made it so special. With the lights on, it was a plain black room with black leather couches. But it was popular with its bottle service and a balcony with a railing to watch the dance floor below.
He waved to two waitresses who serviced the upstairs lounge. Behind the bar, Travis wiped the bar top and double-checked the glasses. Empty bottles and dirty glass littered the drink wells. A disorganized bar made for a rough night. The doors opened in a half-hour. Not enough time to fix everything.
“Hey, man. Thanks for coming in tonight. You’re covering for Christian, right?”
Christian worked Wednesdays and Saturdays and had called in sick the last three. He nodded his head.