Chapter Ten
AUSTIN
The early gray of dawn found me hunched over a sketch pad, my thoughts racing, almost unable to keep up with my pencil. After our meal, I asked Rhoades to take me back to the penthouse so I could take pictures of the space, and now here I sat at five a.m., exhilarated.
The pinching between my shoulder blades signaled it was break time. I stood and stretched, feeling the pull of my back and leg muscles, then looked out the window. Cars drove down the street, making their way into the city, and the lights flashed on the Always Open bodega signs. My stomach growled.
Last night’s dinner had turned into a celebration of sorts after I agreed to work on the penthouse. Seeing Rhoades in his elegant suit, sitting side-by-side with the students and late-night clubbers, had me grinning around my chopsticks. We’d toasted with sake, but I made sure not to overindulge. Keeping my wits around Rhoades sober was hard enough. Drunk on sake, I couldn’t be responsible for what I might do.
I hadn’t been to see Vijay or Chanan in several days and decided to take a break and go get a bagel and coffee. There was no need to change out of my sweats, and after brushing my teeth and my hair, I zipped up my jacket and headed outside.
The air smelled damp, of threatening rain, and I shoved my hands into my pockets as I stood on the corner, hopping from one foot to the other, waiting for the cars to pass. When the light changed, I hurried across the street and pushed open the door to the bodega, inhaling the warm smell of coffee. Vijay waited behind the counter, lines of strain creasing his brow and dark rings circling his normally lively brown eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I served myself a cup from the large drum of coffee they had next to the front register and poured in milk. “You look like shit.”
“My father spoke to the landlord today. They may be selling the building.”
“Uh, okay, but you have a lease. I don’t know much about this kind of stuff, but that has to mean something, right?”
“No clue. Dad got so upset about it, he started having chest pains, and Mom made him stay home in bed today.” He raked a hand through his lustrous hair, leaving it standing up on end.
“That sucks, man. But even if they do sell the building, maybe they’ll let you guys stay. You’ve been around forever, and everyone loves you. That has to stand for something.”
“Not anymore,” Vijay said glumly. “Now it’s all about greed. How much they can suck out of the little guy.” He cocked a black brow. “And what are you doing here so early? We don’t usually see you until ten or almost eleven.”
My good mood had evaporated, and I didn’t feel like sharing my news in the wake of their family’s potentially bad situation.
“Uh, I couldn’t sleep and was doing some sketching, so I thought I’d better refuel with some coffee and an everything bagel. Toasted with cream cheese, please.” I drank some of the coffee while Vijay made my bagel, the thought of not having this store and Vijay and his family around was inconceivable.
“What’re you working on?”
Few people knew my love of interior design. I’d kept quiet about it, figuring it was nothing more than a pipe dream. With Vijay, I’d felt safe enough to tell him things I’d never said out loud. Only he and Frankie knew about my dreams. Now I’d given Rhoades a little part of me and wondered if that was a mistake.
“Nothing. Fooling around with some stuff.”
“Not buying it. You forget I can see your building perfectly from here. I watched you get out of that limo early this morning. And your light’s been on for at least an hour. So what’s got you so excited?” He paused, and a smile broke over his face. “Or who? Come on. Tell me something good.”
I bit down on the waxy coffee cup to prevent myself from returning his smile. “I feel guilty being happy about something when you guys are in trouble.”
“It doesn’t make your news less important. Spill it.”
I refilled my coffee and cradled the hot cup in my hands. “I got a job. Like an interior design job. This guy from the club where I dance needs someone to stage a penthouse he’s selling in one of his new buildings, and when he found out that’s what I’m interested in, he hired me.” Now that I’d said it out loud to someone, it became real. I took a sip of my coffee, afraid of Vijay’s response.
“What? That’s crazy. And great, definitely great. Congratulations.”
“It’s not much and probably won’t lead to anything, but—”
“Why are you putting yourself down? You met this guy at the club, though?” Vijay’s dark eyes narrowed, and I braced myself, anticipating his question.
“Yes, but it’s not what you think. He’s kind of quiet…almost proper. But don’t worry. I’m safe with him.”
What a liar I was. Since that night in the back room when we shared the most sensual kiss of my life, I’d dreamed of nothing else but being fucked by Rhoades. In my latest dream, he had me tied spread-eagled to the bed while he rimmed me until I couldn’t breathe. Then he undid the silk ropes and speared me on his dick. I rode him so fast and deep, I awoke mid-orgasm, my dick so hard, it hurt to touch myself. The walls of my apartment had echoed with my cries.
“Still. Be careful. Make sure someone knows where you are at all times.” He handed me my bagel in a bag. “You can’t trust anyone.”
“Promise.” I paid him but didn’t leave. “And if I can do anything to help, lemme know.”
“There’s nothing we can do but wait and see. But thanks. I will.”
It had started to rain in earnest while I was inside the store, and in true New Yorker fashion, I dashed across the street ahead of an oncoming car. Even still, my hair got soaked, and like a puppy, I shook the raindrops out of it before setting my bag with the bagel on the table and taking off my coat.
Today happened to be my day off, and I planned to finish a few more sketches, then head out to the design district where I’d begin collecting pieces for the penthouse. No thrift stores for this apartment. Only quality and style would suffice.
I fished the bagel out of the bag and chowed down on it, licking the excess cream cheese off my fingers. Coffee in hand, I wandered back to the desk I’d placed in front of the window to get the best morning light and studied the sketches. I pulled out a few of the Architectural Digests I’d collected and tore out pages featuring design schemes I liked, along with furniture and accessories. While waiting for my PC to power up, I taped the pages against the wall to view them all.
The pictures from last night filled the computer screen, and mentally I began to fill the wide-open living room with furniture. So much I could do with the space. The sheer enormity of the job Rhoades had given me was almost enough to give me a sexual high. We were virtual strangers, yet he saw something in me. Something beyond my body. His saying that last night cemented the trust I’d mentioned earlier to Vijay. He believed I had the talent.
“You can do this. You got this. You wouldn’t have been chosen for this if Rhoades didn’t think you could. You won’t fail.”
I didn’t intend to. My mother had spent years trying to be the wife my father never wanted, and it broke her completely when he tossed her aside. In spite of my youth, her increasing withdrawal from life meant the burden to take care of us both fell on me. I learned to cook, clean, and shop—not the norm for the average ten-year-old boy. No matter how hard I tried, it wasn’t enough. At my age, I didn’t understand mental illness. All I knew was I’d tried to help her but couldn’t.
I wasn’t prepared for my father to use my mother’s death to make himself a martyr. To show the world the special, loving man he was by taking in his child and raising me by himself. He wasn’t used to me. I might have been my mother’s son in many ways, but I didn’t crumble. Instead of bending to his will, I rose up against it and refused to fall to pieces when he gave me no choice but to leave.
“You’re a liar, a hypocrite. You tell people you love me, but every night all you do is belittle me.”
The glittering lights from the antique chandelier picked up the gleam of my father’s silver hair, and I watched his lip curl in a sneer of disgust. “And? You’re still here, aren’t you? Living in my house, using my money to pay your bills? You didn’t mind when I put you through college and you got that useless degree. I gritted my teeth when I had to pretend to care about your dance. You’re a parasite. Like your mother. Good for nothing.”
I didn’t think I could hate him any more than I did. It didn’t matter what he thought of me. But he killed my mother. He might not have physically poured those pills down her throat and given her the vodka, but his callous treatment of her was the reason she could no longer find a reason for living. Not even I was enough.
“I’m a parasite? You make your money defending slum lords or forcing people out of their homes to get higher rent. I’m done. I’d rather live with the rats than here with you anymore.”
“I promise you, Mom,” I whispered as I watched the silvery raindrops pelt against my window, smearing the ever-present dirt. “I’m going to make you proud of me, and he’s going to regret what he did to you.”
By two that afternoon I’d spent several hours in the penthouse, taking innumerable pictures of the space and sketching furniture placement. I was ready for a break. Charles Street, the block of the new development, sported several cute cafés, and spying one with outdoor seating, I made tracks. The morning rain had disappeared, and the sun shone brightly on one of those uncharacteristically warm early spring days. I chose a table with its red, white, and blue umbrella tilted to keep the sun off my face, and ordered a turkey club sandwich and a club soda. Flush with cash after several nights of dancing for big tippers, I contemplated having a glass of wine as well and studied the menu.
“Go on, you deserve it.”
A tall shadow stood over me, and my heart beat faster.
“Oh. What are you doing here?”
Rhoades crossed his arms. “Here in the city? Or on this block, talking to you?” His eyes crinkled with amusement, and before I could stop myself, I smiled back. I’d never seen him in daylight before, and with his clean-shaven face and soft hair ruffling in the slight breeze, he looked younger and less imposing.
“Ha-ha. Here. On this block.”
The waiter interrupted us with my club soda. “Oh, hello, Mr. MacKenzie.” The waiter shot me an assessing glance, probably wondering what a guy like me was doing with someone like Rhoades, who, unasked, took the seat across from me. “Can I bring you a drink?”
“I’ll have a glass of Riesling, please. Austin, do you want something?”
“I’ll have the same.”
With a brief nod, he left us, and we sat staring at each other across the table.
An idea crept into my head. “Were you coming here to check up on me? To make sure I was doing the work and not ripping you off?”
“Don’t be an ass,” he said irritably. “I have other projects nearby, and I had to meet with my architects. It’s going to be very hard for you to do your job if you’re carrying around that massive chip on your shoulder.”
Heat rose to my cheeks. “Tell me more about living in London. I’ve never been.” Many if not most of the kids in my neighborhood growing up had done the European tour after graduation, but my father had said no.
The waiter reappeared with our wine and my sandwich.
“Thank you. Nothing for me.” Rhoades traced the stem of his wineglass with the tip of his finger. Mesmerized, I watched him, recalling how I sucked on that finger in the back room of Man Up. I shifted in my chair.
“When my mother died, my father thought it best to send me back there to both live and go to school. In retrospect he was probably correct, as he couldn’t take care of a young child himself. As for London, it’s very much like New York City in that it’s busy and crowded with tourists and people, and yet different because of all the history. I didn’t much get the chance to enjoy it, as I was in boarding school and took my studies seriously. I always knew I’d go into the business with my father. I didn’t have much playtime like the others.”
He was staring right at me, but it wasn’t me he was seeing, I’d guarantee. “I never thought I’d be left to run it on my own, so early.”
I hadn’t known about his mother dying when he was so young. We had that in common. “Sorry to hear about your mother.” Seemed like he’d also lived most of his life by his own wits.
A slight tip of his head was all the acknowledgment he gave. “The real estate business was growing exponentially here in the city, and it didn’t make sense for my father to be overseas. I remained in London to go to university and came back to run the company.”
“So you’ve spent more time in London than New York, really.”
Taking his time before answering, Rhoades sipped his wine, and I did the same, the cool liquid soothing my dry throat.
“Well, I’ve been back here to live over ten years, so I’d say it’s about equal. What about you? New Yorker through and through?”
I nodded but said nothing, and he didn’t push me. I’d eaten half my sandwich and sipped some of my wine before he questioned me again.
“Tell me, if you don’t mind, have you had any further thoughts on the penthouse? No rush, you understand. Just curiosity.”
His penetrating stare reached inside me, and it took me a moment to gather my bearings. Irritated with my reaction, I pulled my backpack into my lap and unzipped it. Why did I feel off-balance every time we were together? Rich, powerful, and ultimately controlling, this man was everything I ran away from when I left my father. And yet…something drew me near instead of making me step back.
“Here.” I grabbed the sketches I’d done both that morning and while inside the apartment earlier that afternoon and handed them to Rhoades. “I wanted to see the space in the light, to see where the sun hits and the shadows fall.”
Anxious, I watched Rhoades study the sketches, and I grew more nervous with each passing second.
“If you don’t like them, I can make changes. They’re a rough draft and my first vision, so—”
“Austin.”
I stopped speaking, stopped breathing almost, and waited. It wasn’t only the desire to prove I was the right person for the job; I wanted to impress Rhoades, show him I was more than the guy he watched shake his ass. All of us were, and I felt like I had something to prove not only for me, but for them as well.
“This is beyond what I imagined. It’s marvelous. The way you arranged the space, the use of color and natural lighting…” He riffled through the drawings, his eyes lighting up as he scanned the pages. “It’s perfect. Exactly how I imagined the apartment would look.”
His animation fueled my own excitement. “After lunch I planned to go to several stores and browse for pieces. I have some ideas and want to see what’s available.”
Once again, Rhoades fixed me with that intensely personal gaze, and my stomach did a flip. Nervous, I drank down the rest of my wine.
“Would it be all right with you if I tagged along? Not because I don’t trust your judgment. On the contrary. You’ve gotten me so excited, I want to watch you in action.” His eyes darkened, and my chest grew tight as my breath sped up.
His words conjured up all sorts of different scenarios in my head, ones that involved Rhoades naked and pumping his thick cock inside me. I coughed and grabbed the club soda, taking a long cold drink.
“Uh, okay, I guess.”
“I promise not to stand in your way. I’ll watch and let you do your job. And maybe afterward, we can have a proper dinner?” His face creased with good humor. “One where I don’t have to sit with my knees practically to my nose.”
The tension between us vanished, and I snorted with laughter. “Yeah, I guess that’ll be okay.” It made sense for him to come. Rhoades would grant me the access I didn’t yet have and needed at many of these exclusive showrooms and would allow snotty salespeople to see I meant business. Now I was glad I’d worn a nice button-down and a dark pair of jeans. Not that I was pretending to be someone else—I still wore my furry boots. My style was my own.
“Great. Were you planning on going to the showrooms after you finished eating?”
“Yeah.” I picked up the other half of my sandwich and forced a few more bites down, but in truth, I was too excited to eat. On the outside I kept it together, but my insides were doing the Snoopy dance of happiness. “I’m ready if you are.”
Our waiter had been lounging by the doorway, eavesdropping, I’m sure, on our conversation. Rhoades waved his hand for the check, and he scurried right over with a syrupy smile on his face.
“Always a pleasure, Mr. MacKenzie.”
“Thanks, Tad,” Rhoades said absently, fishing out his wallet from his pocket.
Annoyed with Tad’s fawning over Rhoades, I glared at his back as he walked away.
“What’s got you so angry? You look like you’re about to spit.”
My gaze traveled back to Rhoades, and I wondered if I was making a mistake. Getting in too deep when I’d sworn to always hold a piece of myself behind. For me.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
By now I’d spent enough time with Rhoades and could read the skepticism in his eyes, but I chose not to answer. I had no idea what I would say. Once the check was paid, we took the car up to the city’s design center, starting at 23rd Street, to the first showroom I’d been itching to visit. True to his word, Rhoades hung back, giving me the opportunity to make the connection. The salesman, though, obviously spotted Rhoades as the money client, and came bustling up to him, brushing past me as if I didn’t exist, eyes lit up like dollar signs.
“Mr. MacKenzie, what a pleasure to see you. Are you looking for something special order, or have you already picked out what you need? I saw you finished construction on the Charles Street project, and we were hoping you’d pick Edward Brennan designs for your apartments.”
While the salesman sucked up to Rhoades, I wandered into the showroom, having spied the perfect sofa for the penthouse, down to the exact color I’d imagined. I touched the fabric to feel its texture and heard footsteps.
“Excuse me.”
I turned to face a man several years older than I, but not by much.
“Yes?”
“May I help you?”
From the dismissive way his eyes flicked over me, I knew he thought I wasn’t good enough to sit on their furniture, much less purchase it. But I kept my irritation in check.
“I’m looking.”
“We don’t take walk-ins unless you have an account with us. You’ll have to put your name on a list, and when we have availability we’ll call you.”
Code words for “Get the fuck out and don’t ever come back.” By this time Rhoades had finished talking to the other salesman and was heading our way.
“I’m with Rhoades MacKenzie.”
Those were the only words I got out before a cunning look fired in the man’s eyes. “I see. I’ll bet you are,” he murmured. “He hasn’t been with anyone in four years, but I bet even he couldn’t resist those lips around his dick.” His gaze focused on my mouth. “I know I wouldn’t.”
Damn. I fucking hated people like him, and my fist ached to smash the snide smirk off his face. But I swallowed my pride and for the sake of this job chose to ignore him.
“Austin, let’s go.” The anger in Rhoades’s voice sent a shiver through me. “We won’t be coming back here again. I have better places to spend my money than on cheaply made knockoffs.”
With his hand on my arm, we walked out, ignoring the salesman calling after us. In the elevator going down I remained quiet, listening to Rhoades’s heavy breathing. Once outside, we walked a few steps, then stopped, his hand still resting lightly on my arm.
“I’m sorry he spoke to you like that.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” The tightness in my throat made me sound as though I was about to burst out crying. But never in public. No one saw me hurting. “I’m over it.”
“Don’t be. Don’t let them talk to you and treat you like dirt. Are you ready to go to the next place?” His grip tightened on my arm. “And if it happens again, we go to the next place and then the next until you find someone you can work with who’ll treat you like an equal.”
I stared at his cold, angry face in shock. He was upset for me. “I appreciate it.”
“Let’s go?”
“Yeah.” The salesman’s words didn’t bother me that much. Growing up with my father, I’d learned having a full wallet often meant an empty heart.
We walked to the next showroom, where we had no problems, and Rhoades stayed back, giving me full decision-making on what to purchase. It was a heady experience, yet in the back of my mind I could still hear the first salesman’s words, and I wanted to know what happened four years ago to make Rhoades swear off men.