Risk and Reward: A Gay Love Story (Best Gay Romance Book 1) by B.A. Stretke (1)

Jeremy was skeptical because things weren’t adding up. Michael’s Jewelers, the store for which he worked as a contractual designer, had never made a request like this one before.

It was unsettling, but Jeremy chose to ignore his gut instincts. The assignment was for a mother’s pin, but it had to be different than the run of the mill pieces on the market. It must be new and exciting in its design. Larsen Michaels, the man who owned and operated the store, was demanding the best for someone, but he refused to share their identity.

According to Michaels, their anonymity was so important to them that if their name were to get out, they would cancel the commission. This commission was large, more money than Michaels had ever offered Jeremy in the two years he had worked for him. The contract included the stipulation that Jeremy would completely relinquish all rights to his final accepted design. He also had to agree not to design anything that could be construed as similar for five years following the date of sale.

It was a tough decision, but Jeremy had a lot of bills and very little money with which to pay them, so sadly he agreed to the terms of the contract. Jeremy, as the designer of the piece, would remain forever anonymous. The design would belong exclusively to the client, and no one would ever know it had been Jeremy Ward who had designed the pin.

How was he ever going to make a name for himself if no one knew his name? It bothered him to sell his designs in this way, but what options did he have?

 ‘Michaels had made similar demands in the past, and I’ve rolled over for less.’ Jeremy thought to himself in consolation. But the idea wasn’t setting well. This was the first time he would completely sell off a design and would never, apart from the initial payout, earn anything from its reproduction. The piece would completely belong to the buyer.

…

 Larsen had taken over the jewelry store from his father at twenty-five. He’d been running the store for nearly fifteen years now, and over the years, with his special gift of manipulation and greed, he’d been able to nearly double his father’s bottom line.

Larsen Michaels was a small man in every sense of the word, and he compensated for his lack of presence with a compulsion to play people. Playing games and using people gave him a sense of power and control beyond himself and that made him feel ten feet tall.

One of his favorite targets was Jeremy Ward. He was always a few dollars short of making his bills, and that allowed Larsen to use and manipulate him. Larsen would pretend to help when actually Larsen was the winner every time in all of their dealings. It was Larsen who was making a name for himself on the back of his most talented designer.

Larsen generally knew not to take things too far, but this time he couldn’t resist taking Jeremy for all he could get. He knew that Jeremy was in serious financial trouble and with the right persuasion he could get Jeremy to agree to all of his demands. Jeremy’s designs were always good and often amazing and to own the rights to the mother’s pin design for so little was too much for Larsen to resist.

Jeremy Ward, at twenty-four, was a gifted jewelry designer. His training was first rate and his creative eye for beauty and symmetry were unmatched in Northern Michigan. Unfortunately, he believed he lacked the skills and money necessary to make it professionally in the design world.

At five feet six inches and less than one-hundred and twenty pounds, he was not seen as very forceful or powerful and was often taken advantage of in regards to his artistic creativity. Jeremy also possessed a financial naivety that he would not, under any circumstances admit to and which often lead him into business deals that were flagrantly inequitable.

 Jeremy’s primary source of income came from working for his parents in their locally owned business, the Ward Gift and Stationary Shop, better known as simply ‘the Gift Shop.' He contracted with Mr. Michaels for extra income to help pay his ever-mounting pile of bills, but his main paycheck came from the Gift Shop.

Ever since the day he bought his dream house, his life had not been the same. Who would have thought a house would completely take over your life in terms of time and money, but he loved the old beauty? It made him feel free and independent and settled, even though he was forever stressing about finances and repairs.

The Gift Shop had been in the family for two generations, but neither Jeremy nor his brother, James, who worked as a navigator with the Great Lakes Fleet, planned on making it their future.

Jeremy had big dreams. He wanted to make jewelry designing his life, but for now, he forced himself to be content with contractual table scraps from Michaels and the occasional art show.

“Who is the client?” Jeremy asked outright. “They must love their mom, whoever it is.” His comments fell on deaf ears as Mr. Michaels merely nodded and continued to read his newspaper. Jeremy grilled all the employees, but no one knew who the client was or they weren’t telling.

“Mrs. Wallace from the bank was the person who contacted us, but she isn’t the client.” Jenny, one of Michaels’s longtime employees, supplied.

“Mrs. Wallace is secretary to the President of Central Bank, isn’t she?” Jeremy asked as his mind tried to pull these little bits of information together.

“She is, and she’s also married to Dave Wallace, the used car salesman,” Jenny added. “Wallace Sales and Service I heard that she asked for you specifically,” Jenny raised her eyebrow.

“I appreciate her support.” Jeremy acted unaffected, but really he was impressed with himself. Mrs. Wallace was influential in her own right and could have contacted a jewelry store downstate to do the work. She didn’t have to give Michaels her business.

Mrs. Wallace worked for Mr. Black, the bank president. She was also married to one of the wealthiest, if not brightest men in town. She was forty-two and still a very attractive woman and usually got whatever and whoever she wanted.

“Did you know that Central Bank was sold to someone from downstate?” Mr. Michaels joined their conversation.

“I heard about that,” Jenny piped in.

“I heard that the person who bought it was an old gentleman from the Chicago area and that his company buys and sells businesses.” Jeremy was proud of the information which he had gleaned while waiting on customers at his parent’s shop. “Mrs. Flynn said that she believes he is single.”

“He’s probably one of those old, bachelor types.” Jenny theorized, and everyone agreed.

“It is my understanding,” Mr. Michaels added, “that he intends to shake things up.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jenny asked.

“He’s letting a lot of people go from the bank, laying them off, and he is calling in all the overdue mortgages. He’s a no-nonsense, anything for a buck sort of businessman.” Mr. Michaels eyed his audience and saw that he had their rapt attention. “There are going to be a lot of jobless, homeless, car-less people in this town when he gets through. I even heard that he’s called in his own repo and collection people to handle the dirty work.”

A wave of speculative fear washed over everyone there who had a loan through Central Bank. Jeremy was behind on his mortgage. ‘I’m only two months behind; hopefully, I can make it up before this new guy starts foreclosure.’ He considered nervously. ‘The commission on the mother’s pin will pull me through. I will be okay.’ He tried to assure himself, although that anxious, uncomfortable pain in the pit of his stomach had returned.

The conversation continued in the same direction for the better part of an hour with little real information being exchanged. Everyone had a theory about the new man, but few had any facts. No one in the store had actually met him.

Jeremy left two sets of designs for the mother’s pin with Mr. Michaels before he excused himself from the gossip.

“I have to get some letters to the post office before the three o’clock pick up.” He explained as he headed out the door. “If you find out anything more as to the person requesting these designs, let me know,” Jeremy spoke quietly to Jenny so that Mr. Michaels would not hear, Jenny nodded. “I’d like to deal with the person directly if possible.” He knew it was unlikely, but he had to try.

Jenny had worked for Mr. Michaels for over four years, and she was a loyal employee. He knew she wouldn’t say anything that Mr. Michaels didn’t want her to say. But she might be willing to give him some clues.

Jeremy believed he’d have a better chance of appealing to their tastes if he met with the client directly and talked with them. Having a silent, unknown client made it very difficult for him. If they didn’t like either of his designs, it was very likely that he could be facing a foreclosure.

He was deep in thought as he hurried around a blind corner of Bay Avenue and Chestnut Street and ran full face into a tall, solid, black suit. The impact sent him backward onto the sidewalk, and several of his letters went airborne. “Fuck.” He muttered

He was still reeling from the impact when he realized that a pair of dark, intense eyes were staring down at him obviously irritated. The dark man stood there tall and imposing, looking down at Jeremy like he was insane. “My sentiments exactly.” The man snarled.

“Are you okay?” He stated offhandedly as if he really didn’t care, and unceremoniously gripped Jeremy’s hand and hauled him to his feet in one abrupt snap. The man was annoyed by the disruption and didn’t bother to hide it.

“I’m fine,” Jeremy snarled back as he straightened his sweater. Jeremy noticed the strength and control the man exhibited and found his gaze lingering over the stranger’s broad shoulders and narrow waist. He was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts by the caustic tone that suddenly attacked.

“Perhaps,” The man said, taking a menacing step closer to tower over Jeremy and stare down into his upturned face. “The people in this town should learn that rather than running a man down, that there is such a thing as simply introducing yourself. You are the fifth person to bump into me in the last fifteen minutes. Although, you are the first young man to do so.” He finished with a slight smirk and a glint in his eyes.

 ‘Oh right, let's poke fun at the gay man, what a prick.’ Jeremy continued to ignore the man’s ominous stance. He acted so full of himself it made Jeremy seethe with the desire to punch him. Suddenly in the midst of Jeremy’s deliberation, the implications of the man’s comment became clear.

“You think I ran into you on purpose?” He snapped. Jeremy pushed his shaggy blond hair behind his ear with as much attitude as he could. “If you have people constantly running into you, then perhaps you need to get out of the way,” Jeremy suggested sarcastically and met the man’s stare squarely.

The smile the man gave him was deadly as he looked down his perfectly proportioned masculine nose at Jeremy. Jeremy wasn’t going to let this jerk have the last word even if the look in his eyes was making him sweat.

“I’m just saying,” The man began very softly, and took another step closer to him, “if you want to say hello, then say hello. The acrobatics really aren’t necessary.” His voice was smooth, dark, and full of meaning as his warm breath ghosted across Jeremy’s ear.

“Trust me, if I’d wanted to say hello, I would have. As it is, I prefer to say goodbye.” Jeremy maintained his gaze and tried to burn him with his stare. Finally, the man’s features abruptly softened, and he started to laugh, which did nothing for Jeremy’s sense of victory. He was making fun of him . . . again.

 The wind picked up and tossed one of his letters against the curb. It was then that Jeremy remembered the post office. ‘Shit,’ he looked at his watch and realized he had only ten minutes to gather his mail and make it to the post office before pick up. Without another word or glance, he grabbed his letters and raced across the street and down the alley.

The young man was gone before he had an opportunity to respond. He watched the young man run down the alley and knew that unlike the other four people, this collision had been accidental. He’d lashed out at the guy and he’d given it right back. He would have enjoyed sparring with him a little longer, but their paths would cross again that was a certainty. This was a small town, and he planned on staying for a while. ‘Yes, I will definitely meet him again.’ The man thought with a lustful smile as he turned to watch the young man disappear around the corner.

…

Jeremy arrived at the post office just as the truck was pulling away. “Damn it!” He yelled.  He would now have to wait for tomorrow’s pick up. He checked the due date on the two credit card bills, and it was obvious they would be late. “Now, I’ll have a late fee attached to next month’s statement.”

‘If that man hadn’t practically run me down...’ He thought bitterly, as he headed to The Gift Shop where he had parked his car. “Who does he think he is, speaking to me like I was one of his groupies or something?” He muttered as he entered his parent’s shop.

“What did you say?” His mother asked from behind the counter.

“I missed the last pick-up at the post office, and now my credit card payments are going to be late.” Jeremy sat down by the counter.

“You’ve had all day to mail those letters, and you wait until three o’clock to do so?” It was obvious that his mother, Laura Ward, was not going to be supportive. Laura was in her early fifties and was very much like Jeremy in looks and stature. That was where their similarities ended. Laura was very practical, thrifty, serious and sensible in all aspects of her life. Jeremy, on the other hand, had difficulty thinking ahead or planning for the future. His life was today and hopefully tomorrow would turn out okay.

“I know I had all day,” Jeremy defended with a slight whine to his tone, “but I would have gotten there in time if that guy hadn’t knocked me down and then chatted me up for what seemed an eternity.”

“What guy?” Laura stopped sorting cards and looked at him curiously over the rim of her glasses.

“I don’t know, some new guy in town who thinks that he’s God’s gift.” Jeremy jumped to his feet to better illustrate his encounter with the exasperating stranger.

“Are you all right?” His mother was finally coming around, and her concern, although slow in coming, was appreciated.

“Yes, I’m fine, but he felt like a brick wall when I ran into him.”

“I thought you said he ran into you?” His mother was too quick. He never could get anything by her.

“Well, it was sort of a mutual collision.” Jeremy let his gaze drop to the floor. “He didn’t have to be so unpleasant about it. I didn’t run into him on purpose like he tried to imply.”

“Regardless of who hit who, you still should have been responsible enough to mail your letters on time. You could have done it this morning when you finished here or even after lunch. Instead, you wait until the very last minute.” Jeremy had heard this same speech a million times.

“Yes, mother, I promise to be more responsible in the future,” Jeremy responded.

“Don’t get insolent with me.” Laura smiled and went back to sorting. “So, what does this new man look like?”

“You should ask him,” Jeremy began sarcastically. “He seems to have a pretty high opinion of himself, and I’m sure he never tires of the subject.” Laura scowled, and Jeremy became more serious. “He’s tall, solid, dresses well and appears to be well educated.”

Jeremy refused to give details like his broad shoulders, narrow hips, sculptured jaw, penetrating dark blue eyes, or the sensual tone of his deep voice. All of which had Jeremy’s blood pressure rising and his breath catching in his throat. The man was gorgeous absolutely gorgeous, but also . . . sadly . . . a stuck up snob.

“Is he handsome?” Laura was teasing now.

Jeremy felt as if his mother had been reading his mind. “If he wasn’t such a self-centered, dominant alpha-male type he might be considered good looking.” Jeremy gave the compliment begrudgingly. “His total lack of personality overshadows any positives he may have in the physical sense.”

“I’ve never known you to take such an instant dislike to someone,” Laura commented. “You don’t even know him.”

 “You should have heard what he said; it was humiliating.” Jeremy shot back. “He was suggesting that I ran him down in order to meet him as if he’s some kind of celebrity.” Jeremy rolled his eyes in exasperation. “He didn’t know me either, yet it didn’t stop him from flinging insults at me.”

“What’s his name?” Laura ignored the rant.

“I don’t know we didn’t exchange pleasantries.” With that, Jeremy decided it was time to go home. His mother was no longer feeling his pain.

…

Jeremy drove home through downtown. Not his usual route, but a part of him hoped to get another look at that guy. Perhaps he could determine who the man was and why he was in town. But, the rude man was nowhere in sight.

 Jeremy lived alone in a large house, on the north edge of town. It was the site of the original settlement and was the oldest section of town. Most of the homes in the area were in very rough shape. Jeremy was able to buy a large home that gave him the room and the property he desired at a price he could afford, or at least he thought he could afford.

The design was Queen Anne style Victorian. It needed a lot of work, but it would be worth it in the end. If it were brought back up to its original condition, it could be a grand house. Unfortunately, he’d owned the house for over two years, and all he’d been able to afford to do was repair the front porch.

“At the rate you’re going, son, it will take you forty years to fix this house.” Those were his father’s words as he pressed for him to sell and buy something more manageable. But Jeremy couldn’t give up on his home, not yet.

He parked his car in the backyard and entered through the kitchen door rather than the front. Even with the porch repaired, the front door was still too fragile to use as a regular entrance. A new front door was to be his next investment, just as soon as he was able to catch up on his mortgage.

The thought of his delinquent payments brought to mind the discussion at the jewelry store. Would he be one of the victims of the new owner of the Central Bank? Would he be able to save his home or would the bank heartlessly foreclose?

…

The evening went very slowly. Jeremy just couldn’t seem to get that infuriating man out of his thoughts. All through dinner, he was there. Jeremy tried to read, and he was there. He turned on the television, and all he could think about was that man.

If he ever saw him again, he would tell him exactly what he thought of him. “He believes that he is so gorgeous that all the people in town are throwing themselves at his feet.’  He was gorgeous and Jeremy could admit that, but only to himself. His hair was dark brown, nearly black and styled well, considering it looked to be naturally wavy. His face was...very masculine. His eyes had been sharp and intense in their scrutiny of him. They had looked to be a dark blue but came across as more metallic.

Jeremy remembered the feel of his hand as he grabbed his and jerked him to his feet. He was strong and sure, and his grip was firm. A slight moan escaped Jeremy’s lips at the memory. The man had magnetism, and there was no denying it.

Jeremy wondered where he was from, and why he was in town. He was probably from Detroit or maybe Chicago. He had that big city air about him. He must be connected somehow with the new owner of the Central Bank. He’s probably the old man’s nurse or lackey.’ He thought rudely, although he knew that couldn’t be true.

The man who ran into him was not an order taker; he was definitely an order giver. He was dominant, controlled and powerful. He smelled like power and influence and weirdly enough, like a touch of vanilla. Jeremy smiled he loved the smell of vanilla.

…

The following morning, Jeremy found himself abruptly awakened by the shrill tones of his phone. “Hello,” he mumbled still half asleep as he grabbed for his cell.

“Jeremy!” the urgent tone of his mother’s voice had him sitting up straight in an instant. “I need you at the shop by nine. It’s very important.”

Jeremy checked his clock and saw that it was already past eight. He was supposed to work the afternoon shift today from noon until eight. “I’ll have to hurry. What’s the problem?” Jeremy was barely awake; he hadn’t gotten to sleep until after three a.m. and he was finding it difficult to focus on his mother’s words.

“The new owner of Central Bank is giving a birthday party for his mother in four weeks, and he called to set an appointment to have invitations ordered. He’s giving his business to us, so we have to impress him. He’s going to be here at nine, I need your help, Jeremy.”

Jeremy pulled himself out of bed and scrambled for his clothing as he continued to talk with his mother. “Don’t worry about it. I hear he’s some old gentleman from downstate. I doubt he will give you any grief.”

“He’s coming here himself,” Laura emphasized. “That tells me plenty. That tells me that nothing is too small or insignificant for his scrutiny. He could easily have had a secretary take care of this.”

“That is unusual,” Jeremy agreed. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Jeremy wore jeans, and a t-shirt, because they were both clean and didn’t need to be ironed. His mother needed him there fast, there was no time for care and consideration in regards to his looks. Get dressed and get out the door, those were her orders.

He arrived at eight forty. His mother was anxiously dusting and straightening as if she were expecting dignitaries. “Here, take this cloth and dust that top shelf.” She curtly instructed Jeremy.

“I don’t think he’s going to have the time or interest to climb up there and check for dust, Mom,” Jeremy commented sarcastically, but did as he was told.

“This must be him. Here he comes,” Laura announced nervously and ran back to the counter.

Jeremy turned around on the ladder just in time to see the same tall, arrogantly imposing man who he had run into yesterday. He walked briskly past the front of the shop towards the main door.

The man wore another expensively tailored suit and he walked with his eyes straight ahead. ‘No wonder he ran into me.’ Jeremy was thinking as he quickly ducked his head and slid down the ladder keeping his back to the man as he approached the counter.

‘I need to get out of here.’ Jeremy thought wildly. He couldn’t face him again, not now, not looking like this and with a dust rag in his hand. He already had the opinion that Jeremy was asinine. Jeremy fumbled and tripped as he tried to make his way to the back door. All he wanted to do was disappear, fade into the shelving unnoticed.

“Jeremy,” Laura called. Jeremy slunk further behind the shelf and ignored his mother’s call. It was painfully obvious that she was not going to let Jeremy get away without an introduction.

“Jeremy!” Laura turned to the man who stood in front of her and gave him a slightly embarrassed smile. “I don’t know where that boy has gotten to.” She explained and then headed in the direction of the shelves. The man followed a few steps behind her. A satisfied smile was working its way across his face.

Jeremy kept his back to them and mumbled a strangled, “I’ll be right there.”

“What are you doing, Jeremy?” His mother was standing directly behind him, and he could feel that he was there, too. “Jeremy, I want to introduce you to Max Donovan. He’s the new owner of the Central Bank, and he’s here to look at our selection of birthday party invitations.”

Jeremy turned around slowly, keeping his head down, hoping that somehow this guy wouldn’t recognize him. He heard a chuckle as the man stepped forward and, with a finger under his chin, forced Jeremy to look up at him.

“Hello, Jeremy.” His voice was warm and friendly. “We meet again.”

“Hello, sir,” Jeremy responded formally with embarrassment stinging his cheeks. Max’s hand went from Jeremy’s chin to grasp and shake his hand as if he were truly pleased with their introduction.

“You already know Mr. Donovan?” Laura questioned Jeremy.

“He ran into me yesterday while I was on my way to the post office,” Jeremy explained uncomfortably.

“I seem to remember you running into me.” Max corrected with a grin and that same glint in his eyes.

Why couldn’t he just turn around and leave? Why did he have to stand here under Mr. Max Donovan’s scrutiny? He desperately wanted out of there.

Jeremy stole a guarded glance at the door. Max saw the gesture and recognized his discomfort at having to stand there and talk with him. ‘He’s not going to get away that easy.’ Max smiled showing plenty of teeth and continued to hold Jeremy’s hand in a loose grip. “Did you get to the post office on time?”

“No, I didn’t.” Jeremy’s response was terser than he’d intended. Laura gave him a quick look of displeasure.

“Nothing too tragic, I hope.” He asked ever so politely while massaging the back of Jeremy’s hand.

“Of course not.” Jeremy sniped.

“Jeremy!” Laura cut him off.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Ward, I deserve it,” Max assured her. “My behavior with your son yesterday was ill-mannered, to say the least.” Max finally released Jeremy’s hand but continued to study his face. He took in the nervous way he chewed his bottom lip as he kept glancing around the room as if he thought help was going to arrive. Max smiled at the young man’s adorableness. He’d never met anyone so beguiling.

He marveled at the heavy lashes framing Jeremy’s beautiful brown eyes. The young man was truly handsome. Max had thought so yesterday, but upon seeing him again, he had to admit Jeremy Ward was strikingly handsome.

Everything about this man called to Max; his intoxicating smell, his beauty, his allure and the fact that Max desperately wanted to bend him over the shelving and take him right there in front of his mother.

‘Oh! He is good.’ Jeremy thought. ‘Now he assumes the role of the mature one in the argument. He takes responsibility for my behavior so all that is left for me to do is....’ “I apologize,” Jeremy stated at last. “It wasn’t your fault that I missed the last pick-up. As my mother has pointed out, I had all day to get there. I didn’t have to wait until the last minute.”

“You’re quite right.” He agreed too quickly. “You probably did have all day, but the apology is mine,” Max insisted as his eyes absorbed Jeremy in that unnerving way that made him feel as if Max were reading his mind. “To make it up to you, perhaps you would allow me to take you to lunch.”

That came straight out of nowhere, and both Jeremy and Laura stared in disbelief for a moment. ‘Lunch? He can’t be serious?’

“No, thank you.” Jeremy declared firmly after the initial shock and disbelief wore off. “I’m sure you have any number of people waiting for their turn at your side. Maybe you could ask one of those other four who ran into you yesterday.” Jeremy was very pleased with himself. He saw a slight flicker of a reaction on Max’s face, but he suppressed it quickly.

“Careful, Jeremy, your snide remarks are upsetting your mother.” Max casually whispered as he bent towards him and tucked Jeremy’s hair behind his ear, letting his fingers trail down and across his jaw. The gesture was fleeting yet explosive.

“Snide?” Jeremy said in a harsh, tight whisper so that his mother would not hear. “You consider yourself clever, but I’m snide.” He stepped back out of Max’s reach.

Max gave him a boyish smirk that drove Jeremy to want to hurt him, but he controlled the urge.

“I think lunch would be wonderful,” Laura chimed in. “Go ahead, Jeremy.”

“No, thank you, I have other plans.” He lied. He couldn’t go to lunch with this man. Just being in the same room with him was so unsettling that Jeremy had to constantly check his ogling and his heart rate.

I can’t let him know I’m attracted to him besides he probably has a wife or girlfriend or both back home. No one as hot as him is completely unattached. There’s no sense in trying to board a train that’s already filled to capacity.

“Well, perhaps another time.” Max relented, but his tone held a definite promise, and so did the way his eyes traveled Jeremy from head to toe and then back to claim his gaze. There would be another time. Max would make him pay for this rejection.

They got down to business then and soon were pouring over several invitation books. “Your mother tells me you have an excellent eye for design.”

“She’s my mother,” Jeremy stated.

“You’re not very good at taking compliments, are you?” Max closed the one book and began running his thumb through the next.

“When they’re genuine.”  Jeremy countered, deliberately keeping his gaze on the order books and off of the stunning body next to him.

“You don’t consider me genuine?” Max was baiting him, so he decided to ignore it.

“How about these?” Jeremy indicated one invitation that would be going to the bulk of the guests and then a more elaborate version of the same invitation which could be sent to the honored guests. The design was simple, yet stately.

“I like it.” Max declared and then added, “Can you have them by tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Max was a man that was used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it, and Jeremy knew they would not disappoint. They may be a small operation, but their customer service was the best.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Max was walking towards the door when suddenly he turned around to regard Jeremy with that same teasing smile, “unless you happen to run into me before that.” He was gone before Jeremy could reply.

“He seems like a pleasant sort,” Laura remarked shortly after he’d gone. “I think you should have gone to lunch with him.” Laura continued. “He owns a bank you know. He probably would have taken you somewhere expensive.” Laura laughed at the look of disgust on her son’s face.

“Just because he bought the bank doesn’t mean he has any real money. A person can look like they have it all and actually have very little cash in their pockets. It’s all image with his type.”

“A very nice image, if you ask me,” Laura said. “And his manners were impeccable.”

“He’s a showman nothing more,” Jeremy stated, exasperated by his mother’s need to continue this conversation.

“I’m going to call in this order and then I’m going to stop by Michaels’s to see if my designs were accepted.” Jeremy thought he’d changed the subject, but not for long.

“You should have gone to lunch with him.” Laura laughed.

Jeremy glared and left the shop as his mother continued laughing.

…

Max Donovan made his way back to the bank, all of his thoughts on Jeremy Ward. He had been on Max’s mind all evening following their collision on the sidewalk. He was smart, witty and beautiful of course but he was also attentive and sweet. All of those attributes became clear as he watched him with his mother and how he handled himself. But still, Max wanted to get to know him better. The man was delightful. “Jeremy Ward,” Max said his name and smiled.

“Mrs. Wallace,” Max called to her as she was passing his office door. Max had taken possession of an empty office so as to not disrupt the day to day functioning of the bank and its administrators. It also gave him the opportunity to observe the employees.

It normally took him approximately two weeks after the original research and purchase to ascertain if a business was worth keeping or would be better sold off for a profit but this one was definitely going to take longer. According to the records, it appeared there were a good share of loans that were in default and it was obvious that the bank administrators tended to be rather lax in their collections department.

He’d never seen a financial institution so loose. He wasn’t going to make many friends, but he would have to put this bank in proper shape if they were to profit either by its operation or its sale. Donovan Brothers LLC consisted of himself and younger brothers Alex and Andrew. They bought and sold struggling businesses across the country. They headquartered in Chicago.

“Yes, Mr. Donovan. What can I do for you?” Betsy Wallace swished into the room as if she’d just been given a curtain call.

“Do you know Jeremy Ward?” Max stood when she entered but did not approach her.

Betsy scowled as if giving the question serious thought. “No, I don’t know him.” She lied. “His parents Bill and Laura Ward own the stationery shop.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that much,” Max interjected impatiently.

Betsy knew Jeremy very well. In Jeremy’s capacity as a designer for Michaels Jewelers, Betsy had commissioned his work many times. But Betsy didn’t care for the look in Max Donovan’s eyes when he asked about Jeremy. Betsy had seen that look before, and she did not want Jeremy to become a problem for her as she made her way into Max’s good graces. She smiled sweetly and assured him that she would do her best to find out what she could.

“Not necessary.” He said as he turned his back on her and returned to his desk. “I’ll do my own research.”

With that, Mrs. Wallace was dismissed. She was not pleased by his curt rejection. Betsy did not appreciate being treated like the hired help. She had worked for Mr. Black for the past ten years and not once did he treat her as anything less than his equal both socially and intellectually. Of course, she would concede that it was Mr. Black’s friendship with her husband and her late father among other things, that afforded her job security not her secretarial skills. Seething with indignation, Betsy went back to her office.

Betsy’s father had been the president of Central Bank when Mr. Black was first starting out. He had given Black his first job and had subsequently become his closest friend. Upon his death, Mr. Black assured him that he would watch out for Betsy. Over the past couple of years, their relationship had become strained, but Mr. Black continued to support her at the bank,

“I met him, Jenny,” Jeremy announced as he entered the jewelry store.

“Who?” Jenny asked perplexed.

“The new owner of Central Bank; I met him yesterday and then again today. He’s young probably thirty-something and quite nice looking.”

“Is he married?” Jenny asked her hope evident.

“No, I don’t think so, I didn’t ask.” Jeremy wondered if there was a Mrs. Donovan. The thought was disheartening. “I’m pretty sure he’s single.” He decided.

“Was he wearing a ring?” Jenny pressed for details.

“I didn’t notice,” Jeremy confessed sadly realizing that he hadn’t noticed much except for his eyes and his mouth and his well-proportioned rock hard body. ‘Did I even think about anything other than his body and what it could do to me?’ He considered this for a moment. Nope, all his thoughts were how much he had wanted Max Donovan to bend him over the nearest surface and take him hard.

“You’re going to have to get better at information gathering if you ever want to be a good gossip,” Jenny reproached him jokingly.

“I will try to be more observant.” Jeremy pledged with his hand playfully over his heart.

“Well, what’s he like? You said you'd met him twice. Give us what you can remember.” Both Jenny and the customer she was waiting on leaned closer to Jeremy, anxiously waiting to hear the scoop.

“He’s...” Jeremy was going to be scathing in his description, not wanting anyone to realize his desire, but decided that his present audience wanted the juice and the juicier, the better. “He’s very handsome as I already said.” He began thoughtfully. “He’s tall and broad and dresses like someone very important. He has dark blue eyes and a very commanding tone to his voice.” He paused for effect and then added. “His body is totally ripped and solid like an athlete, unbelievably gorgeous.”

“He sounds dreamy.” The customer whispered enthusiastically.

“My mother thinks that he has impeccable manners.” Jeremy threw that in because he was having difficulty coming up with things to say about him that didn’t sound like he was lusting after him. He couldn’t go into detail about his perfectly shaped lips and bedroom eyes and the way he smelled. No, he couldn’t go there.

“I understand that Betsy Wallace has her eye on him,” the customer supplied. “She was seen out front of the Lancaster Hotel early the other morning. He has a room there, you know.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.” Jeremy differed. “She’s a bank employee, so it might have been business related.”

“I heard,” The customer lowered her voice and leaned even closer as if sharing an important secret, “that she looked tousled, like she’d spent the night.”

It was odd, but for some reason, the thought of Max Donovan and Mrs. Wallace spending the night together was very disturbing. Jeremy grimaced at the visual that came to his mind and shook his head in order to get rid of it. “I don’t believe their having an affair. He’s not her type.”

“What do you mean?” Jenny questioned. “He is exactly her type. He’s wealthy, handsome, powerful and not staying long. I believe he possesses all the right criteria.” she finished sarcastically and they all laughed.

“He may be gay. You never know.” Jeremy countered. He had definitely gotten that indication, but how do you explain that to others?

Jenny laughed heartily. “You wish!”

Jeremy decided not to comment any further. The course of the conversation was becoming increasingly distasteful. Not that he cared who Max Donovan might decide to have an affair with. It was just that Mrs. Wallace was too easy. Max seemed like the kind of guy who preferred a challenge. Besides, he didn’t believe that any guy or girl in this hick town could measure up to the requirements that Max Donovan would have of a date or a bed partner.

Jeremy didn’t share with the girls that Max had asked him to lunch. Max knew he was uncomfortable and he wanted to make it difficult for him. He was fully aware that he would not agree. He could make the offer without any risk that Jeremy would accept it.

He met with Mr. Michaels for only a few moments because he claimed to be very busy. He tried again to get the name of the client or even a clue to their tastes, but Michaels was firm in his refusal to disclose any information.

“It is not my decision, Jeremy, my hands are tied. They made it part of the contract agreement that I not share their identity with anyone.” He seemed sincere, but Jeremy sensed that there was more to it.

 “Can you tell me if either of my designs were accepted?” He got back to business.

“I haven’t heard, yet. I’ll let you know... as soon as I know.” He smiled apologetically and excused himself.

…

Jeremy found a secluded table near the back of The Main Street Café, one of his favorite places for lunch. As he sat there eating his chicken salad sandwich and drinking his coffee, his mind wandered back to that weird discussion at the jewelry store.

“Betsy Wallace and Max Donovan?”  He didn’t seem the type that would be satisfied with another man’s wife. ‘But then again, what do I really know about him?’ Jenny was right about Mrs. Wallace though, because Max Donovan was definitely her type.

Mrs. Wallace was long on ambition and short on morals. ‘She’d probably sleep with anyone if they could further her social objectives.’ Jeremy was surprised at the viciousness of his own thoughts; it wasn’t like him to be so spiteful. ‘Why do I suddenly have such a strong desire to malign her?’ He was deep within his own considerations when suddenly someone, standing very close to his table, spoke to him.

“Hello, Jeremy.”

The voice was unmistakable. Jeremy’s heart soared as he slowly lifted his eyes from his meal and met the smiling gaze of Max Donovan. He was standing there with his sandwich and coffee and was regarding him with that same mocking grin.

 “So I guess your plans were to what, eat alone?” Max was going to make Jeremy try and explain.

“Ah...I finished sooner than expected.” Jeremy stumbled over his words as he searched his brain for a reasonable response.

“Well, since you’re alone, and so am I, might I join you?” Max was seating himself as he asked, daring Jeremy to come up with a reason why they shouldn’t sit together.

‘I guess he’s not going to take no for an answer.’ Jeremy thought, so he nodded his acceptance of Max’s presence at his table and went back to his meal. ‘Perhaps if I ignore him, he will go away.’ A man with an ego the size of his could hardly stand being treated like he didn’t exist. Especially from a guy he considered beneath him.

They sat in silence for some time until Jeremy finally broke. His silent treatment was having absolutely no effect on Max Donovan, and he couldn’t take it any longer. The silence was unbearable; he decided he’d rather fight with him than just sit there.

“I’m surprised that you couldn’t find anyone to have lunch with. I thought you told me yesterday that the people of this town were throwing themselves at your feet.” Jeremy commented sharply with his hostility barely disguised.

Max seemed completely unfazed by his question. He casually wiped his mouth with his napkin and looked at Jeremy squarely. “I didn’t ask anyone... except you. Besides, you’re the only one who ended up at my feet.” He smiled, knowing by the incensed look on Jeremy’s face, that he had scored a direct hit. ‘Oh, this is fun.’

“I hear that you plan on firing everyone at the bank and bringing in your own people?” Jeremy shot back, refusing to let Max Donovan get the best of him.

“You hear wrong,” Max answered without hesitation. “Anyone who is doing their job and doing it well has nothing to fear.” He continued to sip his coffee as he studied Jeremy over the rim.

“I also heard that you plan on foreclosing on half the town.” He was getting sloppy. Jeremy was infuriated by Max’s unaffected demeanor. He wanted to get a reaction, but all he was getting was calm almost detached responses.

Max didn’t answer immediately and Jeremy for a moment thought he had hit a nerve but, instead of taking the bait, he gave him an honest, thoughtful answer.

“According to the audit, it doesn’t appear that half the town is in arrears in regards to their loans, but there are a number of delinquent accounts that will be dealt with.” He stared at him then, so intently that Jeremy glanced away. “A bank is a business, not a charitable organization.” 

Jeremy fumble for something more to say, he didn’t want to leave the thought of foreclosure hanging in the air. He was right, of course, a bank is a business, and their business is loaning money. If they let everyone go who couldn’t pay their bill, they would be out of business. “Do you plan to stay here and run the bank yourself?”

“I will leave it to Mr. Black to handle the day to day business for now. I’ll stay for a while to get things in order.” He gave him that glare again. “My home is in Chicago, although, I do travel quite a lot.” He finished his sandwich and sat back in his chair eyeing Jeremy with a quizzical look. “Now it’s my turn,” Max announced abruptly and suddenly leaned towards Jeremy with his arms crossed on the table.

Jeremy instinctively pulled back a little and felt strangely trapped by the intensity of Max’s expression. The man was like a predator stalking its prey.

“Have you lived in this town your whole life?” he began.

“Yes.”

“You’ve never lived, even for a short time, anywhere else?”

“No,” Jeremy answered guardedly, not sure as to where Max was headed.

“Do you find The Gift Shop satisfying... in terms of your life’s ambitions?” Max asked, totally unaffected by Jeremy’s sudden look of dismay.

“Yes, I guess I’m easily satisfied,” Jeremy responded dryly.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Max’s expression had a dangerous edge to it that Jeremy didn’t quite comprehend. “You’ve never wanted to live elsewhere, experience more of life?” He was leaning even further towards him now, almost as if he were interrogating him.

“I can’t imagine that my wants and needs would hold much interest for you.” Jeremy’s anxiety evaporated into a silent hostility, and he held his gaze until it was Max who looked away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.”

Jeremy stood up and was about to indignantly brush past him when Max abruptly reached out and stayed his departure with a firm grip on his forearm. The contact was electric. Jeremy froze at the touch and his body, every inch of it, was focused on the heat of Max’s hand. Their eyes met and held for a moment before Max, too, stood up.

Max maintained his hold, making sure that Jeremy did not walk away from him. “I’m sorry if I offended you.” He sounded sincere, but Jeremy was doubtful. “I’m just curious about you. That’s all.”

“You didn’t offend me.” He lied. He was absolutely offended.

“Good. Then you won’t mind if I walk with you. I have to get back to work myself.” He let his hand drop from Jeremy’s arm as he tossed his paper cup in the trash and followed him out onto the sidewalk.

They walked in silence. Max was so close to Jeremy’s side that he was almost touching him, but not quite. Jeremy wanted to side step in order to put more distance between them, but he couldn’t do so without giving Max the impression that his nearness was affecting him. They walked together the block and a half from The Café to the Main Street intersection. Max turned right towards the Bank, and Jeremy turned left towards The Gift Shop.

“You intrigue me, Jeremy.” He spoke suddenly as they were separating. “You’re a very complicated man.”

Jeremy did not speak, but just stared at him for a moment before continuing left towards his destination. Max watched him walk away. He walked with his head down, and his hands plunged into his pockets. Closed off and determined. Underneath all that indignant wit was fear, he suspected.

…

Max’s brothers were waiting for a report on this purchase, and he was already several days behind. He hadn’t anticipated finding someone like Jeremy. He wanted to stay and explore their relationship further.

He would do his job and get this bank in proper order, but he also planned on pursuing Mr. Ward. The man intrigued him, and it went beyond the obvious silky blond hair, gorgeous big brown eyes and killer slim build and the fact that the top of his head came to Max’s shoulder. There was a guarded depth to him that Max thrilled to discover. He would definitely make time for Jeremy.

Max was on the telephone with an associate in Chicago when Betsy Wallace knocked once and proceeded to enter. He quickly ended his conversation, slightly taken aback by her forwardness. She approached him and laid a manila envelope on the desk in front of him. Max looked at the envelope and then at Mrs. Wallace, cocked his eyebrows, and waited for an explanation.

“These are the designs for your mother’s pin.” Betsy sensed his annoyance and, therefore, rushed on with an explanation. “Mr. Michaels delivered them yesterday, but I was much too busy to deal with it then. I apologize for not getting them to you sooner.”

Max opened the envelope and removed two similar, but different designs. He’d mentioned that he wanted to do something for his mother’s birthday that was special and sentimental. At the time, Mrs. Wallace suggested an original design of the mother’s pin. Max gave her the go ahead to have Mr. Michaels, her personal jeweler as she referred to him, present a few designs for him to consider. Honestly, he hadn’t expected anything too spectacular, but now looking at the designs sitting before him, Max found himself very impressed.

“Did Mr. Michaels do these himself, or does he have a designer that works for him?” Max asked as he continued to study the intricate detail of one of the designs. It consisted of a willow tree, but not the usual willow looks. It was more ancient and swirling. The tree was surrounded by a circle of a subtle bark texture. The tree itself was not completely confined by the circle, but wisps of delicate branches crossed over and extended beyond. The stones representing himself and his two brothers were placed within the branches, while those of his parents were placed into the trunk itself.

The second design was more angular, and the tree looked to be almost architectural in its construction. Max was very interested in both designs.

“Mr. Michaels has several designers that work for him. I don’t know which one actually did these particular pieces. It really doesn’t matter,” Betsy continued. She certainly wasn’t going to tell him that Jeremy Ward was the designer of his pins. She’d seen them together just after lunch today, and it was obvious that Max was interested in the man.

“Why doesn’t it matter?” Max inquired. If he was going to work with a designer, he wanted to know who they were.

“The designs belong to Mr. Michaels. He purchased all rights, so the designer is inconsequential at this point.” Betsy acted very pleased with herself. “Mr. Michaels said he will sell the rights to you if either of the pins are acceptable.”

The way Max was looking at her made Betsy look away. He seemed to be both surprised and appalled. “Would you like me to contact Mr. Michaels and have the pins made?” She continued, less aggressively this time.

“No, I’ll talk with Mr. Michaels myself.” Max took the designs and returned them to the envelope and placed them in his desk drawer. “Thank you, Mrs. Wallace.” The way he said her name made it was clear he was finished with their conversation.

…

It was just after three thirty and Jeremy was about to leave the Gift Shop, when his mother called to him from the front of the store. Jeremy had been in back cleaning, organizing and straightening the extra stock. He found that physical exertion was the only way to keep thoughts of Max Donovan and his past due mortgage out of his head. It was just a matter of time before he lost everything, Jeremy was certain.

Max made it very clear during lunch that he did not carry deadbeats. If you owed, you paid, period, end of discussion. It all hinged on whether or not his designs were accepted. He hated having his life in the hands of someone else. When his mother called a second time, Jeremy grabbed his jacket and headed to the front.

“Look at what just arrived.” Laura was smiling so broadly that her face could barely contain it.

Jeremy stepped forward to see a box from Marie’s Pastry Company. “It’s a carrot cake.” Jeremy stated confused. “What does a cake have to do with me?” Laura handed him the card that was attached to the delivery.

Dear Jeremy,

I was not permitted to buy you lunch today, so please accept this desert as an apology for everything I may have done wrong by you in the past two days.

I look forward to seeing you again, soon.

Max Donovan

“He sent a carrot cake?” Jeremy’s confusion was not clearing.

 “Is that cake I smell?” Bill Ward entered through the back door. Bill was a few years older than his wife. He was a very outgoing and amiable man and was friends with most everyone in town.

“Yes,” Laura responded enthusiastically. “Jeremy’s new boyfriend sent him a cake.”

“He sounds like a good man,” Bill said as he accepted the slice of cake his wife offered him. “Never did understand the obsession with flowers.” Bill took a big bite and savored it. “That shop makes the best carrot cake in town.” Laura nodded her agreement.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Jeremy was finally able to get a word in. “I hardly know him.” He insisted as he, too, accepted a slice of cake. “This is good cake,” he conceded as his attention and awareness were taken over by the delicious desert.

“He attached a note and said that he hopes to see our Jeremy again very soon.” Laura addressed her husband, but her intent was to tease Jeremy.

“I think that’s unlikely,” Jeremy stated between bites.

Bill was shaking his head. “I think this cake says something else. This cake says, he definitely wants to see you again.” He winked at Jeremy.

“He’s just entertaining himself.” Jeremy insisted. “He seems to enjoy embarrassing me and this cake, I think, is just one more attempt at making me squirm.” Jeremy took another bit of the cake.

“Sounds to me as if you know him quite well,” Bill interjected.

“I really don’t.” Jeremy stopped when he saw the grin on his father’s face, and he could read his mind. “No.” He answered with total conviction. “There is nothing between us, really.”

…

Jeremy left the remainder of the cake for his father, but took the card and slid it into his jacket pocket as he was leaving. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to keep it. He thought about tossing it in the trash, but could not make himself do it.

Jeremy drove past the Central Bank on his way home. Max simply liked to torment him; that’s all. The next cake will probably have a past due notice attached. Was he already aware that he was two months behind on his mortgage? Perhaps his conversation during lunch was a subtle message for him to pay up. He had to sell those damn designs he moaned and slammed his fist on the dash of his car.

Friday, the following day, Jeremy stayed home to work on some of the commissioned pieces that Mr. Michaels had requested. He didn’t want to be at the Gift Shop when and if Max Donovan came for his invitations. He would probably send a messenger to pick them up anyway, but Jeremy didn’t want to take any chances. Max Donovan was a very compelling man, and Jeremy was finding it difficult to pretend disinterest.

Tonight he was scheduled to work for West End Caterers from seven to ten at the Ramada. He was told it was some sort of businessmen’s function. It wasn’t his favorite part-time job, but it paid twenty dollars an hour. He hated the condescending attitude of the people he would serve at these parties.

You’d think he was a slave or something the way they bossed, demanded, and generally looked down their noses. Most of them were no better off than him, just a bunch of upper-class wannabees, but for that moment, they were in charge, and they knew it.

Jeremy didn’t notice the time slip by as he became engrossed in his art. He hadn’t thought about Max Donovan for several hours. Distance, that was the answer, he had to keep his distance. Out of sight, out of mind, he told himself. It wasn’t as if he were going to be here any length of time, anyway. Max told him he lived in Chicago. He would probably be gone in a week or two, and then his life could settle back down to normal. But for some reason, that thought didn’t remove the anxiety he was feeling.

Jeremy called his mother later in the afternoon to see if she needed any help closing up the shop. They always closed early on Fridays.

“Max was here this morning,” Laura announced enthusiastically. “He asked for you and seemed very disappointed when I told him you weren’t here.”

“Oh, please, just let it go,” Jeremy pleaded. “I’m really not in the mood.”

“I’m not exaggerating,” Laura insisted. “I told him you loved the cake, and that seemed to perk him up a little.”

Jeremy groaned painfully, but did not say anything.

“I like him, Jeremy.” Laura let him know.

“It really doesn’t matter how I feel about him.” Jeremy retorted. “I don’t have a chance with a man of his league. Like I said, he’s just entertaining himself.”

 “Jeremy,” Laura warned.

“I have to get ready for work.” Jeremy changed the subject. “I’m working the Ramada tonight until ten.”

“Call me when you get home, if you hear any interesting gossip,” Laura asked.

Jeremy laughed. “I will.”

…

Jeremy had a little time yet before he was due at the Ramada, so he decided to try and make his yard a little more presentable. He had a tendency to let the grass grow high and the weeds higher. A little strenuous exercise should clear his head, he hoped.

By six, he was satisfied with the improvement of his lawn and went inside for a cold glass of water and then a bath. Jeremy filled his glass and took a long cool drink. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the facet was still running. He turned the tap on and off and on and off, and still the water kept dripping.

No matter how tightly he twisted, the leak would not stop. It was a constant, drip … drip ... drip. “That’s just great,” he grumbled “I’m going to make sixty bucks tonight, and it will all go to a plumber. Why can’t I ever seem to get ahead?” He opened the drain so that the sink wouldn’t fill up and then went upstairs to take a bath and get ready to pay for a plumber.

The party was just getting underway when Jeremy arrived through the kitchen entrance. He was wearing the West End Caterer’s uniform, which consisted of a black jersey vest over a crisp white shirt with black pants and black shoes. Each waiter was required to wear a black bow tie. It was unattractive and uncomfortable, but it was minor. He was quickly handed a tray of appetizers and directed to get out on the floor and get serving.

The crowd looked to be the usual Rotarians who always showed up to these events. Jeremy circulated the room, offering his tray and taking their orders. He noticed the local band Redstone Riot setting up and was surprised that this party was going to include music. It was normally just appetizers, drinks, and networking.

At eight thirty, Jeremy was given a ten-minute break. He sat near the stage door and listened to the band warming up. He was tired, and he wished he could just go home and put his feet up and work on his art. At exactly eight forty, he was called back to work, handed another tray, and sent back out to the floor.

…

Max Donovan had been invited to a business function at the Ramada that was to start at seven. Mr. Black told him that it was a usual gathering of business men and women in the area. He wasn’t too excited about the prospect of spending his Friday night with businessmen and women. But he understood the importance of fitting into an area and gaining trust, even if it was to be short term, and to do this he needed to respect their rituals.

Finally, at around eight thirty, he arrived and figured he’d stay maybe an hour and then head out hopefully with Jeremy by his side. Mrs. Ward told him that Jeremy was working for the caterer of this function this evening. He wondered what time Jeremy got off.

Max had hoped to invite Jeremy to join him this evening, but that hadn’t worked out. He needed to get his telephone number and address. He couldn’t continue depending on their chance meetings.

He couldn’t believe how disappointed he was this morning when Jeremy wasn’t at the Gift Shop. There was something about him. He was gorgeous of course, but there was more. He found Jeremy interesting, entertaining, and quite intelligent. Maybe it was his eyes, he thought, they were so clear and honest yet so suspicious and those lush lashes so long and sexy. He dreamed of feeling those lashes brushing his own skin.

He scanned the room looking for him. Jeremy’s mother said he would be here tonight. Max continued to search and dwell on his growing attraction to Jeremy until he was pulled out of his thoughts by Betsy Wallace.

Betsy had spotted Max as soon as he entered the room and immediately swooped in on him, leaving her husband on his own. “I’m glad you made it,” she informed Max with a big smile and gentle caress of his arm. “I’m sure we may seem small time to someone like you with your business experience and connections, but these little parties are important if you plan on getting along in this area.”

Max nodded, but wasn’t really paying any attention to her. Mrs. Wallace had quite a bloated sense of her own importance. He’d recognized that upon first meeting her, and he also noticed that she tended to be very tedious. “Is Mr. Black here?” He attempted to gently pull away from her grasp as he asked.

Before Mrs. Wallace could answer, someone bumped into Max, and he immediately turned around. He met Jeremy’s eyes as he was standing but a few feet away from the waitress who had run into him.

The waitress immediately apologized, and Max waved her away while telling her that it was his fault, not hers. All the while his eyes never left Jeremy, keeping him pinned to the spot.

“Jeremy.” He exclaimed with a big friendly smile. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” He lied, his mood improving at once. “What are you doing? Are you working here?” His eyes looked him over from head to toe. He looked so adorable in his catering uniform Max couldn’t keep a smile off his face.

He ached to reach out and run his hands through that hair which at present was slicked back in the usual waiter style. He liked Jeremy’s hair ruffled up and casual and wanted to take care of it himself. Once again he was pulled out of his lustful thoughts involving Jeremy’s hair by the shrill tones of the woman behind him.

“Yes, he is working here, and he’d better get back to it.” Betsy’s words were biting as she gave Jeremy a dismissive glare.

Max turned on Betsy Wallace, and in an instant, the smile was gone, and his eyes were glinting like steel. “Isn’t there somewhere else that you need to be Mrs. Wallace?” He was cutting her deep. Jeremy wanted to back away and disappear, but Max had reached out and gripped his arm which prevented him doing so.

 ‘He certainly isn’t treating Mrs. Wallace like they are having a torrid affair.’ Jeremy thought as he watched them interacting.

Betsy Wallace backed up obviously recognizing the danger she was in and not wanting to antagonize him any further. Max continued to stare at her with a look that dared her to challenge him in any way, until she finally turned with a huff and walked away.

Max turned back to Jeremy with a warm smile spreading across his face. He still held him firm. He didn’t release him immediately but instead, let his hand slip down his arm gently caressing as he went. He stopped at his hand and held it briefly before finally let his hand drop back to his side.

“That was harsh,” Jeremy commented and offered Max a cracker with cheese.

“Some people don’t understand anything less,” Max answered and accepted the cracker, his eyes never leaving Jeremy’s. “What time do you finish here?” He brought the conversation back to him. There was a seductive quality to his words that Jeremy did not miss. 

“Ten o’clock, but then I have to help clean up, so it could be later.” Jeremy offered him another canapé. Jeremy glanced around the room hoping to make eye contact with someone else, hoping to move on to some other guest.

Suddenly, with a mischievous glint in his eye, Max took the tray from Jeremy’s hands.

“What are you doing?” Jeremy asked anxiously. “I have to serve those. That’s what they pay me for.” He continued urgently. “I need this job.” He declared hotly to Max’s retreating back.

“Wait here,” Max commanded and walked into the kitchen with the tray. Jeremy remained standing where he’d left him, not sure of what was happening or what he should do. Max Donovan was considered a financial heavy-weight and the caterer wouldn’t want Jeremy to insult him. 

Max came out of the kitchen a few minutes later and took him possessively by the hand looking very satisfied. “I paid the caterer. You’re mine for the rest of the evening.” He laughed at the look of shock on Jeremy’s face.

“Paid them?” Jeremy inquired sharply. “I work for a caterer, not an escort service.” Jeremy was stunned to the point of simply staring in disbelief.

“Your time belongs to me for the remainder of the evening.” Max folded his arms and looked down his nose at him. “I just paid Mr. West End Caterer, a lot of money and he seemed very pleased. You don’t want me to go back in there and demand my money back because you refuse to play along, do you?” He tried to keep a straight face, but Jeremy’s pained expression made it almost impossible not to smile.

Jeremy was incensed. He could just imagine the duties he would give him this evening; waiting on him and his entourage for the whole evening. He couldn’t do it, not even to get his faucet fixed. Jeremy removed his bow tie and threw it at him, and Max caught it.

“Forget it. I refuse to be your personal waiter for the evening,” he stated. “I quit.” He turned on his heels to go, but was immediately brought to an abrupt standstill by the grip of Max’s large hand on his upper arm.

Max pulled him closer to him and held him securely as he spoke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t make myself clear.” He said quietly. “I don’t want you as a personal waiter. I want you as my date for this insufferable party. I was planning on inviting you this morning, but you didn’t show up for work.” His look was accusing.

He continued to hold him close swaying slightly to the music and let his cheek lightly stroke his hair and quickly took a deep breath inhaling the fresh male scent that was Jeremy. “You smell amazing.” He groaned into Jeremy’s ear.

“I can’t be your date,” Jeremy stated more calmly than he felt considering he was pressed up against the broadest and most solid chest he’d ever experienced. Max’s breathy whisper in his ear sent a delicious prickling sensation down his spine. He tried to pull away and glanced nervously around at the people who were watching.

“Sure you can.” Max urged breathlessly into his ear and then proceeded to toss the tie onto a nearby chair. He surveyed Jeremy for a moment before reaching up and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. He loosened up the collar and quickly unbuttoned the black vest.

Jeremy instinctively ran his fingers through his hair fluffing it about his ears and massaging his scalp. Max pushed his hands away and finished the job for him.

“There, that’s better,” Max said as he tucked a few strands of hair behind Jeremy’s ear. The feel of Max’s hands on him was arousing to the point of Jeremy needing to adjust himself as inconspicuously as possible. The feeling shook him a little. He tore his eyes away from Max’s and tried to clear his thoughts before his condition became obvious.

Max took his hand and casually stated with an all too knowing smile, “Let’s dance.”

“This is too ridiculous,” Jeremy said and tried again to pull away.

“Dance with me,” Max repeated and began hauling him out to the floor.

 Jeremy resisted, but then conceded rather than make a bigger scene. Max brought him up close to him and encircled his waist with one arm and held him securely against his chest with the other. They moved together fluidly. Jeremy maintained concentration on his steps in an attempt to remain as unaffected by Max’s closeness and his touch as he possibly could, but he was failing miserably.

“You’re a good dancer,” Max whispered and let his lips brush his cheek. It was a heavy experience, having Jeremy this close to him was intoxicating. He wished they were at a different point in their relationship. He so wanted to take Jeremy back to his room and show him how much pleasure he could give him.

“Thank you.” Jeremy accepted the compliment. His discomfort with Max lessened slightly as they continued to dance and sway together. He felt Max’s fingers slowly massaging his lower back in a subtle circular pattern. It made his body tingle when combined with the feel of Max’s body pressed against his and the scent of Max’s cologne.

It was a very heady mixture Jeremy admitted as he moved to conceal the growing bulge in his trousers. Max countered by pulling him back into place with his bulge cradled just below Max’s own. Jeremy was surprised by the fact that Max was not unaffected by their closeness.

“So tell me, Jeremy,” Max began as they continued to dance through one song and into the next, non-stop. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“What . . . what do you mean?” Jeremy dodged.

“Claiming to be busy when I asked you to lunch. Skipping work when you knew I was coming for my invitations. Should I go on?” Max was taunting him to see what sort of an explanation he would come up with. As Max waited for a response, he marveled at the feel of the young man in his arms.

He knew after running into him on the sidewalk that first time, that his body was firm and toned, but Max hadn’t expected the instant hard on that he’d gotten as soon as he embraced Jeremy. That had never happened to him before. He wanted to drop his hand lower and grab hold of that beautiful ass, but the locals were probably not ready for such an exhibition.

“I’m sorry if I offended you. I'm not used to getting attention from someone like you and you make me nervous.” Jeremy admitted after several moments of considering his options. He didn’t make eye contact with him, just kept dancing and focused his eyes on the knot in Max’s tie.

 “I’m not offended, maybe a little hurt, but not offended” Max held in the chuckle that was threatening to escape. He brushed his lips into Jeremy’s hair and placed a quick kiss on his temple before pulling back.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy apologized immediately. He thought he felt a kiss, but it was so fleeting that he wasn’t sure. He tried to move back from him, but Max would have none of that. He held tight, and the pressure was constant. Jeremy feared that if the pressure, the massaging fingers and the swaying continued he could, very possibly, come right there in his West End Caterer’s black pants.

“You can make it up to, me, you know,” Max suggested, taking full advantage of Jeremy’s guilt.

“How?” Jeremy’s suspicion was plain.

“I have a box of invitations sitting in my office and no one to help me get them out.” He laughed.

“I should have guessed. You are such a manipulator.” Jeremy laughed lightly, relieved that he hadn’t asked for anything more personal.

“Yes, yes I am,” he confessed with a chuckle. “I am a very skilled manipulator, Jeremy.” His tone was seductive and inviting with a hint of promise.

They continued to dance for a while longer and then Max met with a few of his colleagues, including Mr. Black. He kept Jeremy at his side even though he made several attempts at fading into the woodwork. Max held fast to his arm or gripped him around the waist, as he seemed to be fully aware of the fact that given the chance, Jeremy would slip away.

Jeremy held his own as well as he could, considering he went from servant to guest during the course of one party. He noticed Mrs. Wallace standing on the edge of the dance floor. She was dressed to kill, and that was probably exactly what she wanted to do, Jeremy suspected. Her eyes bore down on Jeremy with a hatred that was tangible. “Well, so much for further commissions from that direction,” He mumbled to himself.

Max introduced Jeremy as his date to Mr. Black, although, he and Mr. Black had known each other a long time.

“I know Jeremy.” Mr. Black said as he shook his hand. “How’s your dad?” He inquired.

“Very good, thank you,” Jeremy replied stiffly blushing slightly as he wondered what Mr. Black was thinking about his relationship with Max Donovan.

“Tell him I said hello.” After acknowledging Jeremy’s, “I will,” Mr. Black turned his attention to Max.

“I’d like to discuss further the issues you brought to my attention this morning.” Mr. Black said to him in all seriousness.

“I’ll be in the office tomorrow morning, if you’d like to stop by?” Max respected Mr. Black. He had a difficult job, and he performed it well. He was good and fair with his employees. Max was sure that one of the issues Mr. Black wanted to discuss was Betsy Wallace.

Max had suggested laying her off since Mr. Black had another secretary who actually did the work. He had watched Mrs. Wallace for the better part of one day and noticed a dictatorial attitude towards everyone, including Mr. Black. She also had a tendency to resort to subtle extortion in order to have others complete her tasks. It was a fascinating and disturbing exhibition of the perception of power running amuck. Max wasn’t sure how Mr. Black could convince him that her services were valuable, but he apparently intended to try.

“Thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.” Mr. Black said to Max and then patted Jeremy’s shoulder before moving away to talk with another couple.

Jeremy noticed by the clock on the wall that it was nearly ten thirty. “I’m getting a ride home with one of the waitresses,” he explained. “She will be ready to leave shortly, so I’ll need to go find her.” Jeremy was about to turn away towards the kitchen when Max stopped him once again by abruptly grabbing hold of his arm.

“I’ll drive you home.” He announced. “You’re my date, so I take responsibility.” That grin was back again.

“No, that’s not necessary.” Jeremy insisted. “I’ve already made arrangements with Cynthia.”

“I will drive you.” Max was not going to be thwarted. “Go ahead and tell Cynthia that she can leave. I will wait for you here.” His expression and stance told Jeremy that if he dared leave, he would come after him.

“Okay, but it really isn’t necessary.” Jeremy persisted, but to no avail, Max wasn’t listening.

Jeremy gathered his jacket and told Cynthia that he was getting a ride from Mr. Donovan. Cynthia laughed and congratulated him on his luck.

He met Max where he had left him. He took Jeremy’s hand at first, but then slipped his arm around his back as he guided him around the dance floor, through the people, and out into the dark parking lot.

Jeremy glanced over at Mrs. Wallace, and she still looked like she could spit nails. She could make life harder for Jeremy if she wanted to. He received a good share of his commissions from Mrs. Wallace, and the caterer was a good friend of her husband. It was likely that tonight could bring a marked decrease in Jeremy’s income.

“What’s wrong?” Max noticed the scowl as he bent to open his door for Jeremy.

“Nothing.” He responded immediately and tried to lighten up. What could he possibly say? It didn’t matter anyway; it’s not as if anything could be done about it at this point. 

Max’s car was a black Lexus with all the extras; it had everything.

“Nice car.” he said.

“Thank you.” Max smiled and then asked, “Which way?” as they approached an intersection.

“Right, then another right onto fourth for about three miles.” Jeremy looked out the side window as his mind latched onto the question, ‘just what the hell was he doing in this car, with him?’

“It’s there again.” Max declared abruptly.

Jeremy turned to look at him puzzled by his statement. “What’s where?”

“That look.” Max expressed with a faint smile on his lips. “What’s wrong? You look worried.”

“I have a lot on my mind is all,” Jeremy stated with conviction. They entered his neighborhood and Jeremy’s thoughts turned to, ‘what will he say or think when he sees where I live?’ His run down old house will probably horrify his sensitive tastes. Jeremy continued to stare out the window while his pending embarrassment grew.

“You asked me to help you with the invitations tomorrow.” Jeremy changed the subject. “What time and where?”

“Ten o’clock in my office at the bank?” Max did not pursue his original question. Max was certain he would find out all of Jeremy’s secrets in time.

“That’s fine,” he replied as they drove past his home. “That was my house back there,” he informed him. “I’m sorry.”

“Not a problem.” Max pulled into the next drive and turned around.

 Jeremy watched his face as they pulled into his driveway. He waited for his objection to show in his expression, but nothing appeared. He didn’t appear shocked or appalled.

“It needs a lot of work,” was the first thing Jeremy said as if immediately apologizing for his home.

“I wouldn’t change too much,” Max stated. “You don’t want to ruin any of the natural beauty of an old home like this.” His appreciation of his home caught Jeremy so completely by surprise that he simply stared at Max for a few moments. Max noticed the obvious disuse of the front door, so followed the driveway around to the back.

“I’ll walk you in,” he stated, and before Jeremy could tell him it wasn’t necessary, he was out of the car and waiting for him. “Have you lived here long?”

“I bought it two years ago,” Jeremy replied as he fished in his pocket for his keys and opened his back door. He should invite him in for coffee or something. Manners dictated that he should show gratitude for the ride home. If it was anyone besides Max Donovan, he would not be struggling with the decision.

He couldn’t possibly want to come into his home and have coffee. He fought with himself until the door was open, and Jeremy stepped inside.

Max stayed close to his side, not wanting to leave yet and not wanting Jeremy to close the door on him, but he said nothing, he just waited.

“Would you like a cup of coffee or tea, before you go?” Jeremy finally asked.

“Thank you, I’d like that.” Max followed him in and shut the door behind him.

Jeremy gave him a brief tour of the downstairs. He seemed truly interested in the place, but that could be just good manners on his part. Jeremy wasn’t going to read too much into it. Max followed Jeremy back to the kitchen where he began a fresh pot of coffee. Max noticed the leaking faucet right away.

“May I check it? I’m a lot handier than I appear.” He explained when Jeremy gave him a look of disbelief.

“Suit yourself,” Jeremy instructed. “I was planning on calling a plumber tomorrow.”

“It’s an easy fix.” Max had already started examining it. “Do you have any tools, wrench, or a screwdriver perhaps?” Jeremy brought him his plastic bin of assorted bits and pieces. Max sorted through and took out what he needed. He removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

 “You don’t have to do this,” Jeremy stated.

“I want to do it,” Max replied unaffected by Jeremy’s tone. He removed the tap, tightened the washer, and then replaced the tap. It took him all of about ten minutes, and the faucet stopped leaking. Jeremy was impressed despite himself.

“Coffee is ready.” Jeremy handed him the mug as he lowered his sleeves and buttoned his cuffs.

“Thank you.” Max was still staring at him with that smile on his face.

“Do you want to sit in the living room or out here?” Jeremy’s voice faltered slightly, and he discovered that he was beginning to feel oddly anxious and socially awkward. Jeremy glanced around the room trying to pull his feelings under control. Looking at Max, there in his house, was suddenly too much and in an instant Jeremy went from controlled disinterest to a sharp and focused realization of...him.

“Here is good,” Max spoke softly. He could see Jeremy’s discomfort and decided the kitchen was less intimate. Jeremy didn’t know what to make of him that was obvious. He was being slow and careful. Max didn’t mind going slow, and if sitting in the kitchen made it easier for him to stay a little longer, then he would gladly set in the kitchen on a hard chair under the glaring light.

 “Thank you for fixing my faucet,” Jeremy said while placing the sugar and creamer on the table.

Max acknowledged his gratitude with a nod as he sat down.

Max sat across the table from him, and Jeremy couldn’t stop himself from noticing everything about him. His hair was clean, soft, and shiny. He remembered how it felt as it brushed the side of his face when they danced. The way it swept back from his forehead accentuated the hawk-like dimensions of his features. His eyes, nose, lips... Jeremy was shocked by his sudden acceptance of how attractive Max was. He was almost magnetic. ‘Don’t go there?’ Jeremy thought as he decided to check his rampantly rising libido and squirmed in his chair to relieve the mounting pressure, an action that was not unnoticed by Max.

“What are your plans for this house?” Max’s question was basic, but Jeremy tried to read judgment into it. Jeremy looked at him directly as he described his plans.

“The front door needs to be replaced as does the roof and some of the ceilings. The kitchen, as you can see needs to be completely updated.” As he recited the list of repairs and renovations, his gaze dropped to his coffee cup. The list was endless and seemed impossible.

“This is a beauty of an old house. When you finish, it will be well worth the time and money you put into it.” Max was looking around the kitchen as he spoke. He sounded really impressed, not just polite. Jeremy smiled with a little bit of renewed hope and a little bit of pride.

“This would make a great home for a family,” Max stated. The smile that Jeremy gave him melted his heart. At the sight of it he wanted to reach over and take his face in his hands and kiss him hard and thorough. Instead, he gripped his cup and leaned forward in his chair and captured Jeremy’s eyes with his own.

Silence fell between them for a while before Max decided to change the subject to a more personal matter. “Is there anyone special in your life, Jeremy?” Max asked over the rim of his cup, as he took a long sip of his coffee.

Jeremy paused, not sure if he heard him correctly. Why would he ask him that? 

“Do you think it’s going to rain tomorrow?” Jeremy threw back, ignoring his presumptuous inquiry.

Max burst into laughter, but he was not going to be thwarted. He needed to know if he had competition for Jeremy’s heart. Max leaned forward even further and restated his question more clearly. “Are you seeing anyone, Jeremy? Do you have a boyfriend?”

Jeremy studied Max’s face, was he playing some sort of game with him? What should he tell Max Donovan? Here he was twenty-four years old and not attached in any way to anyone. Would he think that there was something wrong with him? Probably, he answered his own question.

“How do you know I even play for your team?” Jeremy countered.

Max roared with laughter. “Really Jeremy?” He cocked a skeptical brow. His voice then fell to a seductive whisper as he reached over and took hold of Jeremy’s hand. “I felt . . . your interest in me while we were dancing. I’m sure you felt mine as well.” He finished with a wide grin and squeezed Jeremy’s hand before releasing it.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Jeremy abruptly asked embarrassment flooding his face.

“No.” He answered without hesitating “I’ve never been married and I’m not seeing anyone.” Max now watched him with eyes that bore into him and waited.

“I’m not seeing anyone.” Jeremy finally gave in. “I have never been married either.”

“Good” was all Max said, but his eyes studied Jeremy like he was seeing him for the first time and he liked what he saw.

“Would you like more coffee?” Jeremy asked unable to maintain the intensity of Max’s gaze as it seemed almost feral in its intensity. He got up and walked over to the coffee pot on the counter. Max, too, got up and followed him, but not for coffee. When Jeremy turned around, he was so close that he could feel Max’s breath on his face. Max leaned a hand on the counter on either side of Jeremy pinning him in place.

“Would you like more coffee?” Jeremy asked again nervous and uncomfortable as he tried to look away from Max’s face. Max’s eyes traveled his face over and over, concentrating primarily on Jeremy’s eyes and his mouth.

“No, thank you,” Max whispered absently.

Jeremy began to thank him again for the plumbing, but his words were suddenly smothered under the pressure of Max’s lips as they took his in a gentle searching kiss. His arms went around Jeremy, holding him securely against the hardness of his chest, as his mouth explored the contours of his.

Jeremy had closed his eyes initially as the kiss began. For several suffocating seconds, he was transported somewhere incredibly, erotically wonderful, where he surrendered to that aching need that lay deep in his heart.

Jeremy opened his eyes when pulled from his dream world by Max biting his lower lip. He saw that Max was watching him, too. His eyes, dark as night, stared into his as his lips soft, warm, and moist, held his in a gentle caress. This kiss was more than friendly, but not voracious. This was a kiss that asked for more. Jeremy did not resist Max’s embrace. A thousand questions raced through his mind, yet he could not pull away. Finally, Max slowly released him and stepped back, but he continued to watch him.

Was he waiting for him to say something, Jeremy wondered? He could think of nothing to say, so he simply stood there. What did it mean? Max Donovan was definitely coming on to him. All evening he made it clear he wanted something from Jeremy but why? Did he think Jeremy was desperate and an easy lay? All these thoughts raced through Jeremy’s mind as he continued to stare silently.

“I’ll see you at ten,” Max said with a grin and grabbing his coat left Jeremy’s home.

Jeremy continued to stand by the counter and stare at the floor in front of him until the telephone began to ring. Even that didn’t immediately thrust him out of his trance-like state. It wasn’t until he heard his mother’s voice on the answering machine. Jeremy quickly jumped and grabbed the telephone receiver.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to call you,” Jeremy apologized.

“What’s wrong?” Laura prompted concern in her tone.

“It’s been a strange evening,” Jeremy answered still bewildered by the events. What made him do that? Why in the world would he do that? Then it hit him like a slap in the face. It was pity. He was just tossing this poor, unattractive dog a bone. He considered that thought for a moment and then rejected it, thank God. There was definitely more to his kiss than pity. The thought brought a nervous smile to his face.

“What happened?” his mother interjected into his thoughts.

“Nothing.” Jeremy stammered. “I met Mr. Donovan at the party tonight, and he drove me home.” Jeremy tried to sound less confused than he was feeling, but it was difficult.

“That was nice of him,” Laura answered

“Yeah, yeah it was,” Jeremy remembered his treatment of Mrs. Wallace and his declaration at lunch yesterday that the deadbeats would pay and the shiftless would lose their jobs. No, he was not a nice man, he was a businessman.

 “When will you be seeing him again?”

 “He asked me if I’d help him get the invitations out tomorrow, and I told him I would. I’m meeting him at his office at ten.” Jeremy was amazed at his mother’s astuteness.

…

Jeremy got up early because there was no sense lying in bed. He’d been awake most of the night. At six he was in the shower and by eight he was dressed in a light navy sweater and jeans and ready to go. He wasn’t meeting Max until ten o’clock, so he sat on his lumpy, threadbare sofa with a cup of coffee and stared out his large living room window.

It was no different than lying in bed and staring at the water stains on his ceiling, something he had done for most of the night. He couldn’t get that kiss out of his mind. One minute he was getting more coffee and the next minute he was in Max’s arms, and he was kissing him.

Max hadn’t been holding him that tight, Jeremy could have stopped it if he had wanted to. He welcomed Max’s embrace, and Jeremy enjoyed it.

He had to be careful. He couldn’t let himself get serious over a man who would probably be foreclosing on his home within the next few days and going home shortly after.

…

Mr. Black entered Max’s office within minutes of his arrival. Mr. Black had been waiting for him since eight. Max had hoped to have a few minutes to himself before their meeting, but he graciously welcomed Mr. Black in and offered him a seat. Max sat in the chair across from him rather than behind the desk.

“I’d like to discuss Mrs. Wallace.” Mr. Black began. His expression gave nothing away.               “Your memo suggested her layoff, and I would like to explain why I believe she does hold considerable importance in the day to day operations of this bank.”

Max nodded and waited for Mr. Black to explain. He listened to him describe Mrs. Wallace as efficient, motivating, well liked, and respected by the people she supervised. Max would have found the conversation less than palatable if it weren’t for the fact that in his mind, he was thinking about seeing Jeremy again soon.

His thoughts drifted to their kiss and how Jeremy felt in his arms, the way he responded to him and the way he kissed him back. But he resisted going there in order to try and pay closer attention to whatever Mr. Black was trying to say. He stole a quick glance at his wrist watch to see how close it was to ten.

“Mrs. Wallace wields a fair amount of influence in this community.” Mr. Black droned on. “It would not be good in terms of public relations to let her go at this time. I implore you to please rethink your decision.”

Max thought about it for a moment before responding. Mr. Black sat stiff and expressionless, yet his eyes held something. There looked to be a sort of uneasiness in his shuttered gaze.

“I’ll leave the decision in your hands,” Max spoke at last.

Mr. Black thanked him and was about to leave when Max stopped him with a final declaration.

“She is your responsibility. If she fails to pull her weight or becomes a detriment to this business in any way, it will be you who pays for it.” Max and Mr. Black eyed each other squarely. “Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, sir.”

After Mr. Black’s departure, Max checked his watch again and saw that it was nine forty-five. Jeremy would be arriving soon. He made coffee and set out a few donuts he’d picked up at Marie’s Pastry Company.

Jeremy made his way slowly from The Gift Shop to the bank. He had decided to see his mother for a few minutes before meeting Max at ten. Laura kept the conversation light. She did not discuss Jeremy’s meeting or his relationship with Max Donovan, which Jeremy appreciated.

“I’m just helping him with the invitations; that’s all.” Jeremy reiterated as he was leaving. Even though his mother hadn’t said anything, Jeremy knew what she had been thinking. What would his mother say if she knew they’d danced last night and he’d kissed him and fixed his faucet? ‘But maybe it didn’t mean anything; one kiss does not mean a relationship. Maybe everyone kisses in Chicago. Maybe it is nothing special.’ He told himself as he walked towards the bank.

Max stood at his office window, looking out onto the sidewalk below. He saw Jeremy crossing the intersection and hurriedly went downstairs to get the door for him.

Jeremy was surprised to see Max there at the door waiting for him. The side door that led directly to the bank offices was always kept locked on Saturdays. Max did not want Jeremy to have to wait so made sure he was there to let him in.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” Max said with a smile as he let him in.

“I agreed to help.” Jeremy glanced up at him embarrassed discomfort showing on his face, which caused him difficulty in maintaining eye contact for any length of time. Every time he looked at Max’s face, he focused on his mouth and blushed. He stepped back from him once inside the bank. He noticed how different he looked in his casual shirt and jeans. It gave him a softer appearance.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Max said and ushered him up to his office.

If Max noticed his blush, he didn’t say anything and for that Jeremy was happy. Max acted as if their kiss had never happened, and that fact relieved his anxiety, but also left him a little empty.

He directed Jeremy to sit at the long table where he’d set the coffee, donuts, and the invitations. Max closed his door and shut the blinds before joining Jeremy at the table. He poured him a cup of coffee, added cream, and handed it to him.

“Do you want sugar? I’ve never noticed you use it,” he asked.

“No, thank you. This is how I like it.” Jeremy was impressed by his consideration. He noticed how he drank his coffee. ‘What else has he noticed?’ Jeremy wondered. His delinquent mortgage came instantly to mind, but he decided not to think about it right now. He planned on meeting with Mr. Michaels after he finished here and he was hopeful he would have a commission check ready for him.

Max took Jeremy’s jacket and hung it with his by the door, and then sat down next to him. “As I told you Thursday, these invitations are for my mother’s birthday on the fifteenth. I want to include all family and friends, which amounts to approximately eighty people.” He opened one of the boxes of invitations and pulled out several sheets of names and address. “I know this is a lot to ask, but I feel hand written invitations are so much more appreciated than computer printouts. Don’t you agree?” He looked at him seriously, but Jeremy started laughing.

“You are so manipulative.” Jeremy took one of the stacks of invitations and one of the sheets of information and with pen in hand began.

“Oh, yes.” Max agreed with a grin and a mischievous glint in his eye. Max winked at him, and Jeremy couldn’t help but smile.

It took them approximately two and a half hours to complete the task. Throughout the two and a half hours, Max kept Jeremy’s coffee cup full, forced two donuts on him, and gave him a neck massage when they were finished. Jeremy desperately tried to evade the last, but he insisted. Max told him that he didn’t want to be responsible for him having a stiff neck. Jeremy sat still as if he were made of wood, until the feel of Max’s hands eased the tension and anxiety out of his bones and off his mind.

“May I buy you lunch?” Max whispered into his ear, as he finished with his shoulders.

“Thank you, but I have some business I need to take care of.” Jeremy began to tense up at the suggestion of lunch. It was hard to be around Max and not let his interest show. He was certainly courteous and pleasant, but still, there was that tension that hung in the air between them. The less time he spent with him, the better.

“Just a quick lunch, I won’t take too much of your time,” Max said it jokingly, but there was a strange severity in his mood. 

Max backed up so Jeremy could get out of his chair, but Max remained close enough to cause Jeremy to have to look up at him as he spoke. “I have some things to do; that’s all.”

“All I’m asking for is one more hour of your time,” he urged. “I’ll feel better about all the help you’ve given me if you let me buy you lunch. We can go to the Café if you like.” Max was unbending in his desire to take him to lunch. Jeremy was not going to be allowed to say no, not this time.

Max’s eyes held fast to his as Jeremy attempted to come up with an acceptable reason why not to go to lunch. Max’s gaze told him that nothing short of death would be acceptable.

“Okay.” Jeremy relented. “It really isn’t necessary, though.” He added but was ignored by Max, who was quickly grabbing their jackets. Max helped him put on his jacket and embraced him for a moment from behind while burying his face in the back of Jeremy’s neck.

Jeremy turned around slowly within his arms until he was facing him. Max’s eyes were dark and penetrating. It felt like he was consuming him with his gaze, and then suddenly he swooped down and took Jeremy’s lips in another kiss. It was demanding and intense in a way that left Jeremy breathlessly clutching at Max’s waist while passionately returning the kiss. The embrace ended slowly as Max pulled back but still held Jeremy’s head cradled in his palm while his other hand pressed in on the small of his back.

“You taste amazing. . . downright amazing.” Max smiled and waited.

“You smell amazing,” Jeremy spoke his thoughts.

“Thank you,” Max answered with a chuckle and then took Jeremy’s hand as they left his office.

Jeremy kept sneaking glances at him as they walked trying to figure him out. The mood had been so heavy in a passionate, want to rip your clothes off, sort of way and then suddenly it was just them again, and Max was taking him to lunch. He was a hard man to keep up with.

Max ordered ham sandwiches and lemonade for them both. They sat at the same table they had occupied previously. It was near the back and afforded some privacy.

“Is lemonade all right?” Max asked after ordering. “I thought, perhaps you’d had enough coffee.”

“Lemonade is fine.” Jeremy wasn’t used to someone ordering for him, but he couldn’t complain as to his choices. It was exactly what he would have ordered for himself, but he wasn’t going to tell him that.

Jeremy found himself with conflicting feelings in regards to Max’s attentiveness. It was irritating yet flattering at the same time. He was a charmer, that was for sure, but why charm him? Why waste his time and energy on someone like him? That was the real quandary.

“I didn’t realize you had a close family. You don’t seem like the family type.” Jeremy started the conversation on a light note, he thought.

“What type do you consider me to be?” Max answered with a question. He didn’t look amused, so Jeremy took time to choose his words.

“You strike me as very independent.” He responded carefully and then went back to eating his sandwich. Jeremy let his eyes roam the room, wondering if he would see anyone he knew, but the café was almost empty.

“I have a large extended family, but I’m closest to my brothers and my mother,” Max stated less annoyed. “Just because a person is independent, doesn’t mean they can’t have meaningful relationships. One does not exclude the other.”

Max hadn’t meant to sound so severe, but his statement had hit him wrong. He had spent years grooming a cold, hard and distant professional persona in order to make it in his world and he was proud of his achievement. But some odd and unwelcome feelings were driving him to want Jeremy to see him as more than that.

“What about you, Jeremy?” Max changed the subject slightly. “Who are you closest to? Who do you trust the most?”

“Just my parents and my brother.” Jeremy thought and then added. “I have friends, but I only trust them so far. My parents and James are the ones that I trust completely. They are the only people I can say that about.” Jeremy smiled sadly. “I guess that makes me worse than you in the meaningful relationship department.”

His self-depreciating sentiment made Max laugh. “I didn’t say you needed a lot of connections, just some which are true.” Max studied him as he finished his lemonade. Jeremy put on a good front, but he was far from happy or satisfied with himself. Something was holding him down, holding him back and making him afraid to try. “What about your brother?” Max added.

“Jim is away most of the time. He’s an engineer with the Great Lakes Fleet. He’s doing what he truly loves, and we only see him probably twice a year if we’re lucky. I love him, and I trust him, but he is never around.” Jeremy’s statement possessed an almost envious undertone that piqued Max’s attention.

‘Jim is so lucky.’ Jeremy thought. ‘He has known exactly what he wanted to do ever since he was fourteen and went on a tour of the fleet with his history class. Jim knew what he wanted and how to get it.’ Jeremy knew what he wanted but was far from knowing how to get it. Every avenue seemed to be blocked by fear and a well rooted, long-standing lack of belief in himself.

“What are your dreams, Jeremy?” Max whispered, aware that his thoughts had drifted.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jeremy answered without conviction. He glanced up from his cup, and their eyes locked for several seconds. He knew, by the look on his face, that wasn’t what Max wanted to hear. ‘He, for some reason, wants to know what I really want out of life, how could it matter to him?’ Jeremy thought. He didn’t trust Max enough to tell him his dreams. They were too personal, too important to be idly discussed and torn apart over lunch.

“Is that all I’m going to get today?” Max finally broke the silence.

Jeremy nodded, and Max understood his reluctance to share. He accepted it for now, but he would get it out of him or he would discover his secret elsewhere. Max had sensed a dimension to Jeremy’s character that he kept hidden and Max found himself driven to find out what it was.

They walked together to the corner, each in their own thoughts.

“Thank you for lunch,” Jeremy said politely and began to turn right towards the jewelry store.

“You’re welcome,” Max answered and at the same time gripped Jeremy’s upper arm preventing him from walking away.

Jeremy turned back to Max taking nervous pleasure in the feel of his firm grip on his arm and the look in his eyes.

“May I call you?” Max asked, and for the first time in his self-assured, successful life, he felt insecure. Would Jeremy say yes, or simply shut him down and walk away? He stiffened his features and prepared himself for the worse.

“Yes, if you want to,” Jeremy replied.

“I want to,” Max informed him with a warm smile of satisfaction and relief.

Jeremy watched Max as he crossed the street towards the bank. He had an energy and vitality about him that he admired and envied. Physically he was flawless, and intellectually few could pass him.

What’s the point? He’s leaving in a couple of weeks maybe sooner. Jeremy mumbled to himself on his way to the jewelry store. ‘He’ll never call me. That was just a polite way of ending their involvement.’ On that thought, he accidentally slammed the door behind him as he entered Michaels’s Jewelers, and every head shot up to regard him curiously.

…

Max went back to his office to, hopefully, get some work done, yet his attention kept drifting to the stack of invitations on the table and then to Jeremy. He noticed Jeremy had beautiful penmanship. When he’d asked him for help, it was primarily so that he could spend Saturday morning with him. But as it turned out, he was an adept calligrapher.

Looking at his writing, he saw that his strokes were strong and soft, balanced and even, like an artist. Suddenly, a thought, out of left field, hit him. He dropped the invitation and went back to his desk. Removing the designs for the mother’s pins from his desk, he began to study them. Max called Mr. Black and asked him to come to his office.

Mr. Black was a bit uneasy when he arrived, but soon relaxed when Max began asking him questions about Michaels Jewelers, Jeremy Ward and the designs for his mother’s pins. Max had watched Jeremy enter Michaels’s just after their lunch. He said he had business to attend to. Everything began to come together in his mind. He matched the handwriting on his invitations with the handwriting on the designs. It was a perfect match.

“Does Jeremy Ward work as a designer for Michaels Jewelers?” Max shot out impatiently.

“Yes, he does.” Mr. Black answered quickly, and clarity washed over Max’s features.

“Do you know if he is the designer of these?” Max handed Mr. Black the two designs of the mother’s pin. “Mrs. Wallace had these done for me at Michaels’s. She said she didn’t know who the designer was.”

Mr. Black looked confused by his statement and said, “If they were done at Michaels’s, then Jeremy was the designer. He is the only designer that Larsen Michaels employs.”

Max called Mr. Michaels immediately after Mr. Black had left his office. He did not ask outright if the designer of his pins was Jeremy Ward. Instead, he simply inquired as to the identity of the designer. Mr. Michaels explained to him that he could not divulge the name of the designer because he did not have permission.

“The designer is very private.” He went on, but his reasons for secrecy did not make sense to Max.

Why would an artist wish to remain anonymous when their lively hood depended on people knowing them and their work? Max assumed the secrecy was for Mr. Michaels’s benefit and not the artist. The life of a middle man could be very lucrative.

“Were the designs satisfactory?” Mr. Michaels changed the subject.

“Yes, I’m very impressed. I would like to purchase the set.” Max and Mr. Michaels discussed prices until they came to an agreement of both designs for $4,000 and for that price, Max would own the designs and no other similar designs would be made for a period of five years.

“How much of the purchase price does the designer see?” Max asked with such authority that Mr. Michaels did not hesitate to answer.

“The designer receives sixty percent and then I, as the agent, receive forty percent.”

“Very lucrative indeed,” Max mumbled after hanging up with Mr. Michaels. Jeremy had no idea how badly he was being taken. But it wasn’t his place to say anything, not yet anyway.

…

Jeremy sat, at his bench in the back room of Michaels’s, desperately trying to figure a way to cover his mortgage. Mr. Michaels told him that the client still had not responded in regards to his designs. If he didn’t have the payment to the bank this week, it was a surety that foreclosure proceedings would begin.

Mr. Michaels had offered him another commission, and he tried to come up with the inspiration to complete the wedding set design that was requested, but his mind was racing. The only way to secure the payment was through the commission of the mother’s pin. Nothing else would pay him enough and pay him within the week.

Mr. Michaels had assured him that the designs would bring in at least $2,000 and his share would be half. The thousand, along with what he already had saved would give him the money necessary to pull him out of arrears. The only problem was that time was running out.

 He stared at the paper for a long time, trying to clear his mind and focus on something else. Unfortunately, it was Max who came to mind. He began to sketch the angles of his features, and slowly without really realizing it, he began to bring him into form and focus on the white sheet of sketch paper. His mouth and his eyes came alive under the pressure of his pencil. He knew every line and contour of his lips, the feel of them still fresh in his mind.

That kiss had affected him far more than he was willing to admit. ‘He’s just a player.’ Jeremy repeated over and over. There was no depth or meaning to Max’s behavior towards him. ‘I’m simply entertainment while Max is stuck in this little town. His real life exists elsewhere. He lives in Chicago, and his family and friends are there. This town and I mean nothing to him. Once he leaves, it will be as if he were never here.’ Jeremy thought sadly.                

Jeremy heard voices and movement outside of the design room, so he quickly hid the sketch in the back of his pad before anyone could catch him mooning over Max Donovan. That’s all he needed, to have Jenny find out he was dreamily drawing portraits of him.

Mr. Michaels entered the room looking very happy. “Jeremy, the client, just called, and your check is here.” He waved a piece of paper in the air which had Jeremy jumping to his feet awash with relief.

Jeremy took the check from him and after reading the amount sat back down heavily in his chair. “This check is for only $500,” he said softly. “You told me that the commission paid $1,000.” This can’t be happening, he thought. This close to making everything work and he loses half the commission.

Mr. Michaels looked appropriately contrite. “I know, but the commission was for two mother’s pin designs. The client only accepted one design, which amounts to $500 for you and $500 for me.”

“Which design was rejected?” Jeremy spoke, anger and frustration getting the best of him.

“They chose the modern design.”

“I want the rejected design back.” He demanded forcefully. “I want it back immediately. It belongs to me.”

“I will get it.” Mr. Michaels soothed. “Don’t worry Jeremy; I have plenty of commission requests to keep you busy.”

“I needed the $1,000, Mr. Michaels.” Jeremy decided, to be honest. “If I don’t pay the bank this week, I will very likely lose my home.”

“I can lend you the $500, and you can pay me back with the next commission.” Mr. Michaels suggested.

Jeremy declined the offer. He did not want to be in debt to Larsen Michaels. Depending on the commissions and the amount of interest he would charge, he could owe him for a very long time. “I will come up with the money somehow.” He said and closed his sketch pad. He wasn’t in the mood to be artistic, besides nothing was coming to mind except his impending homelessness. “I’m going home now. If you hear anything, you can reach me there.” He announced disheartened, then added. “I’ll be packing.”

…

Max finished for the day around six p.m. He’d contacted the home office in Chicago and updated his brothers, Andrew and Alex, as to his progress thus far. It appeared that business in St. Martin would take at least another week or so to wrap up.

He made arrangements to fly to Chicago on Monday in order to finish up a purchase that he had begun last month. Andrew and Alex had handled most of it while Max was up north deciding what to do with the Central Bank, but now they needed his okay and his signature to close the deal.

‘Perhaps a trip to Chicago will help me put perspective on my relationship with Jeremy.’ He thought hopefully.

Jeremy went over his finances with a fine-tooth comb and still he was $500 short of meeting his obligation. There was nowhere to squeeze it; everything else for the month had been paid in anticipation of this commission check which would have covered his back mortgage payment.

He checked his watch; it was nearing seven p.m., so it was obvious that Mr. Michaels had not heard more from the client. He would have called; he knew how important it was to him.

“I’ll go in on Monday and talk to the bank.” Jeremy decided. “If I still haven’t come up with the money by then. Perhaps they will let me give them what I have and allow another extension for the remainder.” He didn’t feel too positive about the possibility, but it was a shred of hope.

Jeremy dropped his pencil and closed his checkbook in defeat. He ran his weary hands through his hair as he glanced around his kitchen. Heaving floorboards, crooked cupboards and cracked walls. The place was a virtual money pit. Last night when Max was walking around inspecting the place, he made it sound doable. But now with no money and a house that was falling down around his ears, Jeremy did not believe that renovations would ever be achieved.

Max sat in his hotel room staring at the reports he should be completing as he considered his next move. “Jeremy is definitely getting to me,” Max admitted with a grim smile. None of this should be his business. None of this should matter to him in the least, and yet he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him. His designs were first rate; he shouldn’t be working for the scraps that Michaels throws him.

“Hello.” Jeremy sounded tired but hopeful until he realized it was not Mr. Michaels on the other end of the line.

“Are you alright?” Max almost felt Jeremy’s disappointment when he spoke. It was clear he was waiting for a call from someone else. ‘The sort of call that makes a young man wait impatiently near the telephone anticipating the moment it’ll ring.’ He thought bitterly.

“Oh, it’s you,” Jeremy said. “I’m fine.”

“Please try to control your enthusiasm,” Max said tersely. “So who are you waiting for?” Max never was one to beat around the bush. He found that honesty and clarity saved a lot of time and misery on both sides.

Jeremy waited a few moments before answering him. He wasn’t sure if he felt comfortable enough to tell Max everything. Max was, after all, the owner of the bank that would, very shortly, be taking his home from him.

Perhaps Max would feel compelled to give him a break if he knew his circumstances. No, he decided very quickly, no matter how he put it to him, it would sound like he was begging and using their acquaintance to try and force him to help him. In the end, he resolved to tell him the truth, but without the heart-wrenching detail.

“Mr. Michaels was supposed to call me tonight.” He answered. “He said he had a few commissions for me to consider.”

“Mr. Michaels is the jeweler.” Max played dumb hoping to get information from him regarding his position at the store. “Do you work for him?”

“Sometimes.” He began. “He gives me projects that clients request. I design jewelry, but not professionally.” He wasn’t sure why he threw in the last. He was afraid he would sound as if he were bragging, as if he were a professional jewelry designer. It was his dream, but it had not been realized.

“May I take you to dinner tonight?” Max wanted to continue their discussion in person. Michaels was obviously using him. Max could see it very clearly. There was no other explanation for the secrecy that Michaels insisted on and that Jeremy was obviously oblivious to it. His tone also indicated to him that money was an issue for him and he wanted to see if he could help or advise him in some way or at least that’s what Max told himself.

“I want to stay near the telephone in case he calls. This is the only number Mr. Michaels ever calls me on.” Jeremy admitted reluctantly. “The man doesn’t believe in calling Cell Phones apparently.” It made him sound desperate for work, but then, he was desperate for work.

“I’ll bring dinner to you then,” Max stated without hesitation. “See you shortly.” He hung up before Jeremy could renege.

Jeremy ran frantically around room to room cleaning and straightening, trying to make it look semi-presentable. He concentrated his efforts on the kitchen and living room, and within about fifteen minutes it was as good as it was going to get.

He took a look at himself and realized his t-shirt had a coffee stain on the front of it. He rushed upstairs and was pulling on a clean shirt when he heard a car entering his drive. With a quick brush of his hair, he hurried downstairs to answer the door.

Max took a fresh look at Jeremy’s home as he drove up and decided he couldn’t wait much longer to make some needed repairs without suffering extensive, possibly irreversible, damage. Both the roof and the windows have been leaking and causing rot and decay in the surrounding wood. He wasn’t sure what his plans were, but Jeremy needed to do something very soon or risk losing it all.

He knocked several times before he saw Jeremy coming from the living room into the kitchen. Max grinned as Jeremy opened the door.

Max smiled and offered him two bags, which Jeremy took and attempted to smother his gasp at the fact that he had gotten ‘take out’ from the Riverview Restaurant, only the classiest eatery in town. He wasn’t even aware that they did take out. “You went to the Riverview?” It was more of a question than a comment.

“Yes, someone told me that their food is quite good.” He stated offhandedly. “Steak dinner for two.” He added. “Hope that suits you.”

Jeremy nodded, still too taken aback to speak. He had expected hamburgers and fries, not a full dressed out meal and certainly not a meal from the Riverview. He continued to watch Max as he arranged everything on his kitchen table.

Jeremy noticed that Max had changed from the plaid shirt and jeans he had worn this morning. He was still dressed casual but with a little formality. His jeans were pressed and perfect as was his white cotton, button up shirt. His coat was the same leather jacket he’d worn quite often. It touched him that Max dressed up a little for their dinner.

Max saw that Jeremy was watching him and taking his measure. He enjoyed the attention, taking his time to present each dish. When finished, he helped to seat Jeremy, and they were soon into the meal with gusto. ‘It’s strange how comfortable I feel around Jeremy.’ Max thought as he buttered another roll and handed it to him. Sometimes, like now, it was as if he’d known him forever and other times he didn’t know him at all.

“What happens if Mr. Michaels doesn’t call you tonight?” Max spoke abruptly after taking a long drink from his glass of wine.

“Maybe he will call me tomorrow.” Jeremy dodged the question.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He smiled and waited.

“I depend on the extra work that Mr. Michaels sends my way.” He explained slightly.

Max held up his hand and began numbering Jeremy’s jobs one finger at a time. His index finger, “The Gift Shop.” Second finger, “The caterer.” Third finger, “The jewelry store.” Max stared at him for a moment and then added. “Anything else?”

Jeremy shook his head no. “Just craft shows and my Etsy account, but they don’t bring in much.”

“Why do you need all these jobs? The Gift Shop, alone, should provide for you financially. What sort of expenses do you have that require you to work three jobs?” It irritated Max that Jeremy was sitting here waiting for a call from a man who had no regard for his talent, his time or his right to be treated fairly.

Michaels was a thief and a user. His thoughts went back to their discussion earlier. Since when does the artist receive only sixty percent on an original design?’ He should not be working for what he is giving him…but that is not my business.’ He again reminded himself.

“I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, and I don’t gamble, if that’s what you’re implying.” It wasn’t, but Jeremy didn’t know that.

Max started to laugh. “Well, if you’re not throwing your money away, then what are you spending it on?” His current commission on the mother’s pins should be enough to see him through for a while. Why is he so desperate for more?

“This house,” Jeremy stated grimly and took a deep gulp of his wine, nearly emptying his glass. The wine was rich, yet mellow and eased his tense nerves.

Max understood. Why he hadn’t figured as much surprised him. Of course, a house this size, in this condition, it must be costing him plenty. “Are you behind in payments, of any kind? Is it creditors that you fear?”

Jeremy riveted Max with a stare that told him he had gone too far. “My financial business, is my own. I can handle it myself.” Jeremy was terrified that Max was going to guess the truth. ‘Oh, please don’t ask about my mortgage.’ He pleaded silently.

“I apologize,” Max said immediately. “I only ask, because I thought perhaps I could help you. Finance is my life. It’s how I make my living. Maybe I can advise you or assist you in some way.” He leaned over and refilled Jeremy’s glass. He knew it was unfair to use the wine to loosen him up, but he had to get to know him better, and Jeremy was enjoying the wine.

“No, thank you. I owe enough money and favors as it is, I don’t need to add you to the list.” Jeremy took another sip from his glass.

“I would love to be on your list.” He teased seductively then added. “What I am offering, is simply advice. What can it hurt?”

Jeremy considered his statement in silence. He did have more practical knowledge on the subject than anyone he knew. Perhaps Max could put his troubles in perspective; perhaps he had a suggestion or a tip that would help? It couldn’t hurt, he decided, to tell him some of it, although, he would not share the condition of his mortgage. He would not put himself in the position of a beggar.

Max waited as Jeremy continued to stare at him; he could almost see his mind working. Jeremy obviously wasn’t sure if he trusted him. Finances are very private, and he understood his hesitancy in sharing any information, but he also knew that whatever his circumstances, they probably weren’t as dire as he assumed. Max leaned forward on the table and listened intently when Jeremy began to speak.

“My home requires extensive repairs and anything that involves a contractor, as you know, also involves excessive costs. I try to save to have some of the larger jobs completed such as, the roof and the windows, but other things happen that nickel and dime me until I have nothing left.” He looked forlorn as his eyes scanned the room. “I can maintain this hovel but I can’t improve it, I can’t seem to pull ahead.”

Max thought for a few minutes after he had paused and it was his turn to contribute. As always, first things first. “Is this house something that you are willing to put so much money into that you ultimately will go without from time to time in order to keep it? Do you love this house that much?”

“I can’t fail,” Jeremy spoke with a firmness that relayed his determination to do whatever it took. It wasn’t so much love that drove him but an aversion to failure. Everyone told him that it was impossible; he couldn’t let them be right.

Max admired his resolve. With that said, he began to explore his options. His suggestions included social programs through Community Action, equity or home improvement loans, none of which suited him. Jeremy continually shook his head; he couldn’t borrow any more money, and he refused to take handouts. Max’s final suggestion, though, had Jeremy brightening and believing that a solution to his problems may be in site.

“Do you have any of your designs here?” He asked out of the blue. “I would like to see your work.” He pretended to be unaware of his talent.

“I have a portfolio upstairs.”

“I think the answer for you is not where to find the money you need, but rather how you can make the money you need.”

After dinner, they sat together in the living room going over Jeremy’s portfolio and they finished the bottle of wine. Max was amazed by the fact that Jeremy was so unaware of his own talent. The portfolio contained designs intricate and complicated and others simple and clean. He had an eye for balance, color, and beauty. “Do you own these or do they belong to Michaels?” It was difficult for Max to keep the edge out of his voice.

“These are mine.” He was surprised by his look of satisfaction. “I don’t sell everything to Mr. Michaels.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” His tone was a little sharp with barely disguised disapproval. Jeremy did not understand his mood.

“Mr. Michaels is the only jeweler in town. I have no choice but to work with him.” He became defensive.

“I’m going to Chicago for a couple of days.” He changed the subject. “I will be leaving tomorrow, and I would like to take these with me. You won’t have to depend on the whims of Mr. Michaels if you can get others interested in you.” He looked into his eyes. “Broaden your client base. Have more than one source.”

“Don’t put all my eggs in one basket.” Jeremy understood, and it made perfect sense, but there was only one problem, and it nagged to the surface of his newly acquired optimism. “Why are you doing this for me?” He asked skeptically as always. He did not want Max to see him as a charity case.

Max sensed the direction of his thoughts, so quickly added. “If you become successful, then you can pay me a referral fee. How about ten percent of everything I bring you.”

Jeremy relaxed immediately. “I would agree with that arrangement.” His huge smile meant more to Max than any amount of money. He was not interested in any fees or percentages; his only interest was in getting Jeremy away from Mr. Michaels and showing him that his art could be more and his dreams could be realized.

His own selflessness surprised Max and caused him to pause for thought. He wasn’t a mean or bad man. He just did not get involved in other people’s problems, until now. In his business sympathy, empathy, and understanding could kill you. Nothing can take a business man down sooner than being too soft. ‘It’s not personal; it’s business,’ a credo that he lived by that kept him at a distance from the human aspect of his job. Then why was he caring about this guy?

He didn’t really know anything about Jeremy. Like his finances, his problems should be his own. He was taking a risk by involving himself in Jeremy’s life. What if he turned into the proverbial clinging vine? He was leaving in a few weeks, and their connection would eventually end, like all long distance relationships. Would he constantly call and harass, demanding his time and attention?

He’d been down that road before, and it took a court order to rid him of that ‘clinging vine.' He dismissed the thought as soon as it came to him. Jeremy was not a clinging vine. He’d managed to get a little information on him from Mr. Black, who had a great admiration for both Jeremy and his parents. He said Jeremy had designed a necklace for his wife and his daughter. He considered his talent exceptional. Mr. Black was also confused as to why Mrs. Wallace pretended not to know who designed his pins.

‘It seemed too good to be true.’ Jeremy turned to look at Max, seated on the sofa next to him, with an expression that combined pleasure and satisfaction with just a little bit of confusion. Without thinking of the implications, he reached out to give him a brief hug. “Thank you.”

Max gripped his hand before he had a chance to retract it from around him. He turned to him slowly and looked so deeply into his eyes that Jeremy found himself holding his breath waiting for whatever was to come. ‘Is he going to change his mind?’ Jeremy thought wildly. The look on his face was dire. Did he suddenly realize that this would be too much effort?

“I should probably go; it’s getting late,” Max said very softly after a few painful seconds of wonder. His eyes never left Jeremy’s.

“I think you should stay for a while,” Jeremy spoke more boldly than he was feeling.

Max watched him intently gauging his words and then leaned forward and took Jeremy’s mouth in a scorching kiss. He left no room for confusion in regards to what he was asking.

Jeremy opened eagerly for what Max was offering. He’d guarded his heart since first meeting this insufferable man but was now letting go. He wanted this; he wanted Max. Jeremy clutched at Max’s shoulders pulling him close. The kiss became deep and searching. Max’s tongue penetrated tasting the depths of Jeremy’s mouth pulling from him the neediest of sounds.

Max trailed his right hand down to slip beneath Jeremy’s shirt and began to tease it up and off. Max continued the kiss as he spread his right hand across Jeremy’s chest feeling the soft strength beneath his fingers.

Jeremy moaned into Max’s questing mouth when he gently tweaked first one nipple and then the other. The sensation shot directly to Jeremy’s cock and stiffened immediately. The thought ‘he shouldn’t be doing this’ shot through his mind, but Jeremy quickly suppressed it. He was young; he was allowed some fun. He was allowed to have this.

Jeremy sucked on Max’s tongue urging a subtle play for dominance that he lost immediately as Max grabbed Jeremy by the waist and lifted him onto Max’s lap while never losing contact with his plump eager lips.

Jeremy held on and settled himself onto the hard bulge straining against Max’s jeans. They continued to explore one another until Jeremy stiffened slightly and pulled back. He couldn’t do this, not yet, it was too soon and too intimate.

Max buried his face in Jeremy’s neck and took a deep breath. “I should probably go; it’s getting late.” No way did he want to leave, but he didn’t want to push Jeremy into anything he wasn’t ready for.

Jeremy sighed deeply and agreed with him. He followed him to the door and watched as he slowly put on his jacket. It was almost as if he were deliberately stalling, but why? The silence was developing a heaviness that Jeremy found difficult to tolerate.

“Thank you for the wonderful dinner and thank you for your help. But, if it doesn’t work out, if you can’t find anyone interested in my work, it’s okay, I understand.” He didn’t want Max to leave thinking that he had to do this for him.

Max took the portfolio that he was holding and set it on the counter by the door. He then walked towards him, placing his hands on either side of his head, holding Jeremy’s face cradled in his palms. “I’ll do my best.” He whispered against his lips just before he took them in a smooth, yet consuming kiss. His lips moved against Jeremy’s in the same rhythm as his fingers moved against his scalp beneath the softness of his hair.

Oh, Jeremy sighed, he was starting to get used to this. He let himself enjoy it. This man smelled heavenly like soap and fresh air he just kept breathing it in as Max continued his erotic exploration.

Max stepped closer still and let one hand move down to the middle of Jeremy’s back and pressed him seductively against him. The feel of Jeremy’s body, warm and responsive beneath his hands caused his heart to race, once again.

Jeremy did not resist even though his good sense was telling him to stop, telling him not to get caught up in this man. The way Max was kissing him would, in time, lead to only one thing. Did Jeremy want to lead him on like this, with their embraces becoming more and more intimate until sex was the only logical next step?

Max Donovan was out of his league, or so Jeremy thought. He shouldn’t be playing with this fire; Max knows what he’s doing. All thought ceased as a rapt moan erupted deep in Jeremy’s throat just as Max’s tongue dipped inside. He felt a prickly sensation race down his back as Max’s tongue circled his own and sucked till Jeremy thought he would go mad. The technique was flawless in its ability to set fire to the need smoldering under the surface of Jeremy’s passion.

The kiss continued with progressive exploration and abandonment on both sides until Max trailed his lips across Jeremy’s cheek and down his neck and then taking full advantage of an earlobe before gradually breaking off and stepping back.

He still held him with his hands and with his gaze. There was a hunger there now that had not existed in the previous embraces. His breathing was rapid and labored, and his hands continued to grip Jeremy’s upper arms in a vice so tight Jeremy thought the circulation might be cut off.

“I want you, Jeremy.” His words came out as a deep breathy whisper. He waited for a response, his chest rising and falling with his fevered breathing.

Jeremy was not sure of how to respond. He wanted him too but lacked the confidence to say so. “I like you too.” He said finally.

Max erupted in laughter so deep and full that Jeremy too began to laugh at himself. “Not much for sticking your neck out are you?” he said between chuckles.

“Ah, well I’m not sure what you’re asking for,” Jeremy answered carefully. He still felt a slight buzz from the rich wine so was trying to be extra careful with his words.

All laughter ceased in an instant, and Max slammed Jeremy against his chest for a kiss so deep that Jeremy thought he could feel Max’s tongue completely down his throat. This was followed by Max’s right hand moving from Jeremy’s upper arm down skimming Jeremy’s side to rest momentarily on his hip, and he then grabbed his ass and pressed Jeremy tightly to him. Max flexed and pressed his hand grinding Jeremy’s swollen crotch against his own.

Jeremy panted and clutched at Max’s sides and jacket, trying to gain purchase. This was hotter than anything he’d ever done, and they really hadn’t done anything yet. He groaned loudly and in response the grinding intensified until he thought he would explode. Max slowed his movements and gradually brought Jeremy back to the moment. He trailed his lips across Jeremy’s jaw and ended with his face tucked into the crook of Jeremy’s neck kissing, tasting, teasing. He pulled back after he felt Jeremy’s breathing slowing back to normal.

“Does that answer your question? Have I made myself clear?” Max stated as a smile spread across his face. He saw Jeremy’s eyes all liquid and dazed, and he fought the desire to carry him upstairs and finish what he started.

“Yes, yes. . . I think it does.” Jeremy tried to speak between ragged breaths.

Max put Jeremy back on his feet and stepped back from him. Jeremy moved and used his hands in an attempt to shield the ever growing hard on that he was sporting.

Max noticed the move. “You are adorable.” He said through a big grin and pushed the hair back from Jeremy’s face and forced him to look up at him. “Adorable.” He repeated. “I’ll call you when I get back on Wednesday.” His voice was thick with desire.

He wished their relationship was on a different level. He wished he could continue with what he’d started. Max stared at the fullness of Jeremy’s lips and the dreamy look in his eyes and almost pushed the issue. With all the strength he could muster, he let his hands fall away from him and turned to pick up the portfolio on the counter.

“Good night.” It was all Jeremy was able to say as Max opened the door to leave. He managed a false calm, but he was far from unaffected. He was suddenly very glad that Max was going back to Chicago for a few days. It would be time enough for him to perform the necessary reality check and hopefully get his head back on straight. Having Max so close and personal was playing havoc with his rational thought.

Max turned to him with a smile. “Good night, Sweetheart.” He said tenderly, and then he was gone.

Jeremy was awake most of the night thinking and rethinking everything Max had said and done. Was he playing him? If all Max wanted was sex, he could have gotten it from someone else a lot easier. Many men and women in town would be more than willing. He didn’t have to go through all the courting rituals that he was going through with Jeremy, but maybe he liked a challenge?

Jeremy wondered about his mortgage and why Max never seemed to put it together. What would he do if he knew that Jeremy’s greatest fear was foreclosure? But maybe Max already knew that. Jeremy’s finally fell asleep with that thought on his mind.

Jeremy woke up and slowly came to the awareness that his cell phone was ringing. It was Sunday morning, who would be calling him this early on a Sunday morning? His head felt as if it were going to explode as he pulled himself to the edge of his bed and grabbed for the receiver. He had definitely had too much wine last night. It had been so smooth that he hadn’t forgotten the effect it would have on him today. Wine always left him with a pounding headache in the morning.

“Hello.” His speech was a little ragged and hoarse. He looked at the clock to see what time it was.

“Are you up sweetheart?” Max’s voice caressed his ear.

“Sort of.” He lied. Jeremy sat up and forced himself to ignore the pounding in his head.

“How do you feel? Didn’t the wine set well?” Max’s tone had turned slightly humorous.

“I’m feeling it.” He admitted. It was nice of him to call.

“I thought I’d stop by and pick you up.” he said.

“What for? I thought you were going to Chicago?” His mind was starting to clear.

“I am, but I don’t want to leave my car parked at the airport while I’m gone. I thought you could use it and then pick me up on Wednesday.” Max waited for his response, but there was only silence. “Jeremy, are you still there?”

“Yes.” He sounded choked. “You’re going to let me use your car?” Jeremy was stunned.

“I trust you,” Max said with confidence. “I’ll be over in about thirty minutes, and I’d sure enjoy a cup of coffee if you have some ready.” 

 Jeremy saw himself in the full-length mirror, and his image startled him. His hair was matted to his head in some spots and jutting out in others. His eyes looked like dark puddles of mud, and his skin was ashen. “Oh, fuck.” He mumbled to himself. He ran his fingers down the side of his face and just stared.

After a quick shower and a lot of cold water, he was beginning to look human again. Jeremy grabbed his jeans and a t-shirt and headed downstairs to await his arrival. He hated to admit it, but he was anxious to see him again.

‘What kind of people does he date?’ Jeremy wondered as he made coffee and waited. Max is thirty-five so he obviously has had many relationships. He said that he has never been married and that he wasn’t currently seeing anyone, but that could be a lie. There was probably someone in Chicago who considered themselves important even if Max didn’t see them that way.

Men like Max Donovan aren’t left on their own for very long. They must have that handsome, slender, sophisticated individual to hang on their arm. ‘Men like Max Donovan,’ the statement ran over in Jeremy’s head several times.

He saw Max walking towards his back door as he finished making the coffee. He was immaculately dressed in a black suit and tie, and a crisp white shirt. He saw Jeremy watching him through the door and did not knock. He proceeded into the kitchen and instantly swept Jeremy into his arms and kissed him hard on the lips.

“Good morning.” He said as he pulled back to look down into Jeremy’s face, but kept him in his arms and slightly elevated off of the floor.

Jeremy’s surprise was apparent. Max smiled with satisfaction and kissed him again.

“You taste so good,” Max whispered provocatively against his mouth. “You’re all I thought about last night.” He added, “Did you think about me?”

“No.” Jeremy lied. “I didn’t think about you at all.”

“You’re a liar.” Max gripped him tighter and brought his face within a breath from his.

“Okay,” Jeremy relented, “I might have thought about you once.” His eyes darted to the left as soon as he finished his sentence.

Max laughed and pulled him up so that their faces were again inches apart. “I thought about you much more than once.” he breathed seductively into his mouth before taking his lips in another deep, heart-stopping, sensual kiss, which Jeremy was more than willing to reciprocate.

That was three times Max had kissed him since he arrived. Jeremy raised his hands to grip Max’s shoulders in order to steady himself. He was holding him off of his feet at the moment.

Slowly Max broke off the kiss and released Jeremy letting him slide down the length of his body until his feet were back on the floor. The contact was delicious. Max’s hands remained on Jeremy’s ass holding him in place and flush against Max’s body.

 Jeremy could feel Max’s hard on as it pressed against his abdomen and it brought back all the memories and feelings of last night. He caught his breath and attempted to step back from him.

“The coffee is ready,” Jeremy blurted nervously. “Would you like some?”

“Yes, thank you,” Max answered, his eyes never leaving Jeremy’s face. He had thought about Jeremy all night long. He barely slept thinking about what would have happened between them if he could have stayed last night.

How would Jeremy have reacted to their new level of intimacy this morning? It could have gone either way; he may have accepted him this morning, or he may have refused to ever see him again, and that was why he hadn’t pressed him for more. There was something here, and Max wasn’t going to push until Jeremy was ready. This had to be his decision or he’d never trust Max’s motives.

Jeremy handed him the mug and a slice of toast and backed up to lean against the counter. Max took a drink of the coffee and a bite of the toast and told him it was wonderful. “You make the best coffee in town.” he declared.

“Thank you.” Jeremy smiled. “I add a little hazelnut.”

“It’s wonderful.” He repeated and finished the cup. “May I have another?”

Jeremy graciously poured him a second cup. Max suddenly moved, breaking into Jeremy’s thoughts and walked towards him with that same smoldering look in his eyes as last night. He encircled Jeremy’s waist and pulled him to him securely while planting a hot, moist kiss on his throat. He held him tight with his right hand and let his left slide down his midriff to his hip and then his upper thigh. He caressed Jeremy’s body beneath the rough fabric of his jeans and brought him instantly to a heightened sense of desire.

Jeremy remained still, he couldn’t move; he couldn’t breathe. Like last night, all of his thoughts were focused on Max’s magical touch. His mouth continued to explore his throat and his ear as Jeremy moaned softly and leaned into him. Jeremy was painfully hard in his jeans. He closed his eyes, indulging in the new sensations Max was evoking. He wanted to grab this man and drag him upstairs and keep him there for a week or two.

“Are you going to think about me while I’m gone?” Max asked huskily.

“Probably, but I have a lot to keep me busy,” Jeremy said this more caustically than he should have. Although, in his heart he knew that Max would never be far from his mind. Max Donovan had dominated his thoughts since that first day when he ran into him on the sidewalk.

“Then I will have to hurry back.” Max tried to hide the fact that Jeremy’s words had hurt him, but why should they hurt? He derided himself. ‘I don’t want a man fixating on me anyway. I don’t want the responsibility of a ‘clinging vine,' and yet here I am practically begging Jeremy not to forget me.’ Max reminded himself that it would be good to get away and hopefully think clearly about his involvement with Jeremy Ward.

“If you’re ready, you can drive me to the airport.” He turned away from Jeremy and headed towards the door. Jeremy grabbed his jacket and followed him, tension hung in the air around them.

Once in the car, the tension boiled over. Max reached over and laid his hand to rest on Jeremy’s thigh, and he visibly stiffened. Max pulled back immediately and turned his attention to the scenery outside his window. Jeremy sensed the change in demeanor and the distance suddenly growing between them and he knew it was completely his fault. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I'm not used to the attention.” Jeremy apologized. He didn’t want to leave things like this.

Max’s expression softened. “All I want is to get to know you. I’m not a bad man.”

Jeremy pondered for a moment. “I know you’re not a bad man.” And that was the truth. For all his distrust Jeremy knew that Max Donovan was not a bad man. He was a business man.

Max grabbed Jeremy’s hand. “I’m just asking for a chance.” He gently laid a soft kiss on Jeremy’s fingers before releasing his hand. Jeremy smiled and nodded relieved.

Max let Jeremy drive to the airport so that he could become familiar with his car. Jeremy enjoyed the smooth ride and the power behind it. Max didn’t need him to drive him to the airport. What he needed was to have an excuse to see Jeremy again this morning, and by giving him his car, he secured seeing him as soon as he returned on Wednesday because he would have to pick him up. He considered it a good plan and Jeremy didn’t seem to see through the flimsy excuse to have him take the car, so all was okay.

The plane sat ready and waiting for him. Max took his bag and was walking towards the plane when suddenly he dropped his bag and turned back to Jeremy. Max took him in his arms and kissed him again, very hard and crushing, causing a certain measure of pain as he exacted control. “Miss me.” He demanded.

Before Jeremy could censor his response, he said a heartfelt, “I will.”

Max’s mood lightened significantly, and a smile touched his lips. “I’ll call you tonight.”

Jeremy watched as his plane took off, so many thoughts running through his mind.

“Nice car you have there.” Bill Ward said to his son. They both drove up to the back of the Gift Shop at the same time.

“Max loaned it to me. He had to go to Chicago for a few days and asked me to take care of it.”  He saw the expression his father was giving him and so added hastily, “He didn’t want to leave it parked at the airport.”

Bill grinned as he held the back door open for him. “He could have left it in the parking garage at the hotel and taken a cab to the airport,” he commented.

Jeremy hadn’t thought of that. He turned to look at his father who was still regarding him with that same grin.

Jeremy spent the next few hours opening new shipments, checking invoices and preparing displays. He needed to stay busy; he couldn’t allow himself time to stop and think. The thoughts he was having regarding Max were ridiculous, far-fetched considerations that would no doubt prove to be false. Jeremy wanted to believe that he cared for him, that he was pursuing him. But reality could be so harsh. It was safer and emotionally healthier for him to deny and repress any feelings he may have for him. Max was very likely just amusing himself.

Max would return a different man; Jeremy was sure. He would taste his real life and life here would become tiresome. If he did return at all, he wouldn’t stay long. By the end of the day, Jeremy had successfully put himself into a slight depression.

“I’ll finish closing up dear,” Laura said as she watched Jeremy drag himself from one chore to another. “You miss him don’t you?”

“Who?” Jeremy shot back.

“Max.” Laura decided to play the game. “You’ve been sulking around here all day. You’ve said barely two words to either your father or to me and you didn’t eat lunch.”

Jeremy kept his head down and his back to his mother as he began to speak. “I don’t know what to think.” Jeremy sighed deeply. “He seems sincere, but....”

“But what?” Laura prompted.

“But what does he really want from me?” Jeremy raised the question that had been haunting him from the beginning. “What can I possibly offer him? He lives an influential life, runs with an elite crowd. I’m not going to measure up.”

…

Max found it difficult to pay attention to the representative from the corporation making an offer on the paper mill near Mundelein that Donovan Corp. had recently acquired. The business was bought in a basic sell out at a price that was well below what it was worth. Therefore, a tidy profit was guaranteed.

This meeting was very important and was the primary reason for Max flying back and yet it was all he could do to keep listening. His mind was back in Michigan with a young man that he couldn’t get out of his thoughts for one minute.

It was past seven o’clock when he stopped the meeting and postponed the remainder of the negotiations for the following day. Max needed to make a call, and he couldn’t wait any longer. His partner and brother, Andrew recognized his agitation and questioned him about it.

“What’s gotten into you?” Andrew joked. “I’ve never seen you so edgy.”

“I need to make a call,” Max stated without explanation. Andrew offered him his office since it was closest to the conference room.

“Sounds urgent.” Andrew tried to pry.

“It’s important.” And that was all Max would tell him. Once he was alone, Max quickly dialed Jeremy’s number.

Jeremy sat at his kitchen table completing his third cup of coffee and finishing the latest edition of the St. Martin Examiner when his telephone rang.

“Hello, sweetheart.” Max began.

“Hello.” Jeremy knew he sounded too eager, but he couldn’t quell the pleasure he was feeling at the sound of Max’s voice. Max said he would call, but Max was in Chicago with the big business types like himself so Jeremy assumed that he would be too busy to follow through with his promise. “I wasn’t sure if you would call,” Jeremy added.

“I said I would.” He laughed. “Besides, I really needed to hear your voice.”

“Mine?” Jeremy was incredulous, but happy.

“You find that difficult to believe?” Max sounded less amused.

“I’m pleased to hear your voice too.” Jeremy decided not to answer his question. He just wanted to talk to him; he wasn’t looking for any declarations of affection.

“How was your day?” Max asked.

“Mr. Michaels never called.” He told him disheartened. He was sure he would have called him by this evening.

Max’s mood darkened slightly with the mention of Michaels’s name. “It doesn’t matter. Trust me, Jeremy; you will do fine without his commissions.” Jeremy’s fear was putting him in a position of weakness, which could be exploited by employers like Michaels, but Max didn’t know how to explain that to him.

“Is your meeting going well?” Jeremy changed the subject afraid that too much talk about new commissions might jinx him.

“As well as expected.” He responded. “What are your plans for this evening?”

“Television and bed are all I have planned,” Jeremy answered grateful for the lighter conversation. “How about you, what are your plans?”

“Nothing as exciting as yours regretfully, I’ll be having dinner with my brother Andrew and then head back to my apartment.” Max was missing Jeremy far more than he thought he would. What was going on with him he wondered? He never before felt this sort of driving need to talk to someone. 

Their conversation went on in several directions for the better part of thirty minutes. It wasn’t until Andrew stuck his head in the doorway and pointed impatiently at his watch that Max finally, reluctantly said goodbye.

Jeremy was thrilled that Max had called him. He tried to deny the delight he was feeling, but it was there, and it felt good.

“Who was the important call?” Andrew asked once they were seated and began their dinner. “I know it had nothing to do with business.” He added in case Max planned on deception. “I overheard parts of it.” He laughed when his brother riveted him with a glare. “Who is this, sweetheart, you needed to call so badly that you postponed negotiations to do so?”

“I met him about a week ago.” Max began. “He’s everything I thought I would never be interested in, no glitz, glamour or pretense. He’s just your typical homespun sort of guy.” Max smiled, and Andrew returned the smile. “I haven’t figured it all out yet, but he touches me in a way that is so odd. I look at Jeremy, and I want to protect him from everything including himself.” He laughed. “He can be quite a handful.” Then he added more thoughtfully, “It’s crazy, I know.” Max noticed his brother was watching him with a knowing, gloating smirk.

“I understand, Max,” Andrew assured him. “If you remember, I’m married with two children. Believe me; I know the feeling.”

“But I’m not sure if I’m ready for, or truly want the kind of commitment that I want from him.” Max stopped to ponder what he’d just said. “Wow, I’m even starting to confuse myself.”

“Is there a chance that the family might be meeting Jeremy very soon? Mother’s party perhaps?” Andrew teased.

Max nodded, “A very good chance.”

…

Jeremy was up and getting dressed again just after midnight. His brother, James, called and asked him to pick him up at the dock around one a.m. His ship was coming in for some minor maintenance, and he wanted to sleep in a real bed for one night. He told Jeremy he would only be staying until tomorrow evening, but it would give him time for a good night’s rest and a chance to visit with their parents before leaving again.

Jeremy considered taking Max’s car but then decided not to. First he would have to explain it all to James and he really didn’t feel like it at this time of night, and secondly, he didn’t feel it would be right to use Max’s car for his personal errands.

James was there waiting for him when he arrived. James was much taller and broader than Jeremy. Whereas Jeremy took after their mother, James took after their father. If you didn’t know they were brothers, it would be difficult to tell. James had two duffle bags with him, so Jeremy got out to open the trunk, and as he did so, he managed to step into a large mud hole and lose his balance. He went down flat on his face into the muck. James hurried over to him and helped him to his feet while barely managing to contain his amusement.

“You alright?” He chuckled.

“Peachy!” Jeremy grumbled. He was mud from head to toe and was glad that he’d fought the urge to bring Max’s car. It will be difficult enough to clean his vinyl seats; it would have been impossible to clean the mud out of Max’s leather interior.

…

When Max returned to his apartment, he sat and reviewed the offer and notes for the continuation of negotiations tomorrow. It was after one a.m. when he decided to go to bed but first, could not resist giving Jeremy another call. He knew it was late, but Jeremy was a night owl, so he was confident that he was probably still awake. His cell rang and rang and rang, and there was no answer. Once the voicemail kicked in he hung up awash with concern. He tried Jeremy’s home phone, but that too went to the answering machine.

Jeremy and James returned home about one thirty a.m. “I’m going to take a shower,” Jeremy announced and proceeded immediately upstairs. James was wide awake and hungry so made himself a cold meat sandwich, grabbed a soda from the fridge and settled down in front of the television.

Max waited forty-five minutes before calling again. After another call to Jeremy’s cell, Max decided to try the house phone one more time. He was very worried, but his worry soon turned to a silent, black rage when a man answered Jeremy’s telephone. “Is Jeremy there?” Max asked in crisp tones.

“He’s in the shower,” James answered unaffected by the man’s attitude. Max did not respond, for a few seconds.

“Would you please tell him that Max called?” He gritted out the request.

“Sure.” James hung up and went back to his sandwich. Max furiously walked the floor following that call. The wild thoughts about what was happening and who was with Jeremy were tearing him up. There was no other explanation, a man in his home at two in the morning and he was taking a shower, it was clear what was happening.

James forgot to mention the telephone call to Jeremy. After his snack, he went to bed and didn’t wake until he heard Jeremy moving around at about eight the next morning. He pulled himself out of the comfort of his bed, showered and met Jeremy in the kitchen.

…

Jeremy was preparing a small breakfast for them when he came downstairs. Jeremy had not gotten dressed and was still in sweat pants and a t-shirt. His mother gave him the morning off after she heard that Jeremy had picked up James late the night before. “Mom and dad are anxious to see you,” he said to James as he seated himself at the kitchen table. “They’re at the Gift Shop.” James nodded and drank his cup of coffee down in one gulp.

“Who is Max?” James asked offhandedly.

“How do you know about Max?” Jeremy answered with a question.

“He called last night while you were in the shower.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“I forgot.”

“What did he say?”

“Just to tell you he called.”

“Well thank you very much.” His sarcasm was biting.

“Again, who is Max?” James did not lose track of his original question.

Jeremy thought about his answer for quite some time before carefully explaining. “His name is Max Donovan. The Donovan Corporation bought the Central Bank.” That revelation had James giving him his full attention. “We met a week ago, and we’ve gone out but nothing too deep or serious.”

“Casual acquaintances don’t call you at two in the morning. Try again and the truth this time.” James pinned him with his gaze. His persistence did not upset Jeremy. James had been his protector since he came out in high school at sixteen. It was rough back then, but James had made it easier.

“It’s nothing serious, really.” He insisted. “Max is only in town for a little while doing whatever business it is he does with the banks that he buys and then he will be leaving. He’ll be going off to take care of his next big purchase. I doubt he is all that interested in me.” Jeremy was trying not to look as naive as he sounded, but he was failing.

“I think that Max is very interested in you, but I doubt very much if his interest extends to anything long term. Men like him are in it for the short run, Jeremy. They aren’t looking for happily ever after.” James turned to catch Jeremy’s gaze as he continued. “Don’t let his money and his charm get to you. Guard your heart because men like him eat men like you for breakfast.”

James’s meaning was clear and Jeremy nodded. “I won’t,” Jeremy assured him and then changed the subject. “How much do you think it will cost to fix my roof? The leak in my room is getting worse.”

“A lot.” was all James told him. They finished their breakfast in silence but picked up the conversation again over coffee.

“The place is plunging further and further into disrepair. I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

“You may end up having to sell this place, you know. I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but you need to be realistic.”

“I know,” Jeremy said feeling defeated.

“If you need help, let me know. I have some money put away.” James told him sympathetically. Jeremy had a tendency to get in over his head, and he feared this time it was going to cost him his home. He thanked James for the offer.

James left for the Gift Shop at around nine thirty. Jeremy finished the breakfast dishes and was about to go upstairs to get dressed when his phone rang. He was so pleased when he heard Max’s voice.

“Good morning.” he stated with warmth and excitement.

Max sounded oddly distant when he asked if he enjoyed his evening of television. Jeremy was just about to explain his brother’s arrival and to apologize for his behavior when Max erupted with a series of scathing accusations.

Max was not going to give Jeremy the opportunity to pretend that he’d stayed home alone last night and watched television. He was not in the mood for lies. After that call, Max had spent the remainder of the morning staring at the wall, picturing everything that was going on behind his back. He had difficulty equating the visions with the person he assumed Jeremy to be, but what other explanation could there be?

He’d been there before, but he hadn’t had any real feelings for that guy, so the pain was minimal. It was just the humiliation of being used that stung a bit. This time, the pain was deep and aching. He’d never before experienced a pain so piercing as what he felt when that man, whoever he was, answered Jeremy’s phone.

“Why don’t you tell me what you were really doing last night?! Tell me the damn truth!” Max’s voice was choked with restrained hostility.

Jeremy could feel the waves of his anger over the telephone lines. He struggled to understand what he was talking about, what he wanted to hear, but he didn’t have a clue. He remained silent for fear of making Max more upset by stating his confusion.

Max interpreted his silence as guilt. “I called last night.” he spat out. “Your boyfriend answered the phone and told me you were in the shower. Now tell me the truth, what kind of game are you playing?!” His anger got the best of him, and he felt the overwhelming desire to inflict Jeremy with the same pain he had been dealt. “I should have known better than to get involved with someone like you.” His words cut deep.

Jeremy realized the misunderstanding and was attempting to interrupt to explain, but fell abruptly silent when struck with Max’s final insult. All of his fears and suspicions as to what Max really thought of him came to crystal clarity at that moment and there was only one thing left for him to say. A heavy sigh was followed by a softly spoken, “goodbye” and he hung up.

Max remained on the phone listening to the silence. Jeremy had tried to speak several times, but Max had refused to let him explain and cut him off every time. He should have let Jeremy say something in his defense. He wanted to call him back, but his pride forbade him to do so.

His last jab was uncalled for, but what was done was done, he told himself. “He is someone who is better off forgotten.” With that declaration, Max gathered his briefcase and went to meet his brother at the office. “It is time to concentrate on real issues in the real world.” He said as he closed and locked his door.

Jeremy was hurt but not surprised, although it ended sooner than he anticipated. There was no chance of a real relationship with Max Donovan; so why was he feeling this strange sense of grief or loss or whatever it was that was flooding his emotions and flattening his joy. He wouldn’t let me explain because he obviously prefers to think of me that way.

“He should have known better than to get involved with someone like me.” He repeated Max’s words. “Someone like me!” He gritted. To hell with him, Jeremy decided and went upstairs to get dressed.

Jeremy did his best to put Max from his thoughts, but he was there constantly. He considered discussing the matter with his mother or maybe James, but decided against it. He needed to work through this himself.

He was just about to leave when he saw a long black luxury car pull into his drive. Jeremy hesitated for a moment expecting the car to simply turn around and leave, but instead it drove up to where he stood on the back porch and parked. Jeremy remained still, waiting for someone to get out.

The heavily tinted windows made it impossible to see the driver. To his complete shock, Betsy Wallace stepped out of the vehicle and picking her steps carefully on the untended grounds, made her way towards Jeremy. She was dressed in an expensively tailored blue business suit with matching shoes and handbag. Her hair, makeup, and nails were all perfect. Mrs. Wallace always looked good, but for some reason today she seemed to be without a single physical flaw. Jeremy stepped back from her when she approached, the way her eyes grabbed and held on to Jeremy’s was disquieting.

“We need to talk, Jeremy.” She said with feigned sweetness.

“What about?” Jeremy’s confusion was apparent.

Betsy relished the power and control she had over Jeremy at that moment “Let’s go inside. I’m sorry, but it is serious.” Betsy’s words seemed in direct contrast to the gleeful smirk on her face.

“Yes, of course.” Jeremy opened the door and went back inside. Betsy followed him in and closed the door behind her. She gave the room a distasteful once over with her eyes and sat down tentatively at the kitchen table. Betsy removed several sheets of paper from her case and set them on the table in front of Jeremy.

Jeremy knew immediately what the visit was about. His mortgage agreement set on the table in front of her. The past due notice lay next to it and next to that was the foreclosure paperwork.

He works fast, Jeremy thought. Now that Max was no longer interested, he wanted him out. That was his form of payback. Jeremy lifted his eyes to catch Mrs. Wallace looking too pleased. She disguised her expression as soon as she noticed Jeremy watching her. “Is there anything I can do to prevent this?” Jeremy asked.

“With the past due amount along with penalties and fees, the total that would have to be paid today, is roughly $1,800. Do you have $1,800?” Betsy emphasized the amount.

“No, I do not.” Jeremy was calm, and this bothered Betsy.

“I know that you and Max had a relationship of sorts, but he called this morning and asked that all the past due mortgages be called in immediately and he stated, without exception.” Betsy was fishing for more information, and she also wanted to see him flinch. He was taking this too well. Betsy wanted tears and ranting.

“Okay,” Jeremy stated without emotion.

“Has something happened between you and Max?” She continued to pressure him.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It’s just that he made sure that your name was on the list.” This was a total lie, but Betsy wanted to see his reaction. There was something wrong between them and Betsy planned on making the rift as wide as she possibly could. “It surprised everyone. He seems to suddenly have it in for you.”

“How long do I have to vacate?” Jeremy got back to the business at hand.

“It would be best if you left as soon as possible. It would eliminate eviction and the sheriff and all of that unpleasantness.” Betsy was pushing for him to leave today which was absurd. But Jeremy wasn’t thinking clearly, and Betsy was using it to her advantage.

Betsy was thrilled with how this was working out. She was hoping to simply throw a wrench into the works, but it looked like she may be able to completely destroy whatever was between them. Timing was everything; she congratulated herself. 

“I don’t own a lot of stuff, so I can be out by the end of the week. Is that soon enough?” Jeremy glared at Mrs. Wallace.

“I guess it will have to be.” Betsy sighed as if the extra days were causing her personal difficulty.

“Why did he send you?” Jeremy asked.

Betsy jumped at the opportunity to plunge the knife a little deeper. “Max depends on me in a lot of ways.” She insinuated.

Jeremy did not respond or ask any more questions. Betsy assured him that it was Max’s doing and that she was simply the bearer of the bad news. “Please don’t hold this against me, Jeremy.” She added for effect.

Jeremy sat alone for over an hour thinking about his options and wondering how he had misjudged Max so badly. He hadn’t seemed like the type to take revenge, not in this fashion. But he did, and he was thorough.

…

“What’s wrong with you?” Andrew insisted during a break in the discussions. “Is it Jeremy? You’re so preoccupied; it’s becoming obvious. You have to pull out of this if we ever hope to conclude these talks.”

Max looked at his brother, recognizing the truth in his words. He had to concentrate and get his head back in the game. He would call Jeremy tonight, and he would let him explain. He gave Andrew a nod and stated. “Let’s get this done.”

…

Jeremy went to work and tried to keep his situation to himself, but his mother was too perceptive not to notice. After considerable persuasion, Jeremy stopped dodging and gave Laura part of the truth.

“The bank is foreclosing on my house. I’ve lost my home.” Jeremy did not make eye contact instead he shifted his eyes to the floor. This was embarrassing; his parents had warned him against the purchase in the beginning, and now he had to admit that they were right. 

Laura stood silent for a moment. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but you’re welcome to move back into your old room.”

“Thanks, but I can’t,” Jeremy stressed. “It’s bad enough that I’ve lost my home. It would be too humiliating to end up back in my old bedroom.” He appreciated the offer, but his pride made it impossible to accept.

Laura understood and didn’t pressure him further. She offered Jeremy the money necessary to cover his mortgage, but he refused. “If I can’t make it on my own salary, then what is the point in prolonging the inevitable?” He told her.

“What are your plans?” Laura asked, sympathy clouding her expression, causing Jeremy to look away.

“I’ve reserved a room at the Crest View Motel for one week. Hopefully, I can come up with a better plan within that time.” Jeremy leaned against the counter and stared at his feet.

“Have you considered discussing this with Max?” Laura paused when Jeremy began to glare at her. “He would be able to give you an extension or maybe some other payment plan. It’s worth a try.” Laura insisted.

“He’s the one who put my name on the foreclosure list. It’s just business to him, not personal.” Jeremy was seething “Mrs. Wallace had a list of names, and apparently mine was on the top.”

Laura moved towards her son and placed a comforting arm around his shoulders. “It’ll be okay.” She whispered. “Max didn’t strike me as that sort of man. But, as you remind me so often, we really don’t know him. I’m sorry that things didn’t work out.” Jeremy could tell that his mother was sincere and the compassion in her tone brought tears to Jeremy’s eyes which he struggled to conceal.

“He fooled me too,” Jeremy admitted, while rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

…

Max returned to his apartment following the meeting. Andrew had invited him to dinner as did his mother, but Max wanted to make his call. He was swamped with the need to work this out with Jeremy. Jeremy would explain, and he would try desperately to understand. And, if necessary, he would beat to a pulp whoever it was that had answered his phone.

Max hung up after the answering machine picked up. He had to talk to him. He tried again an hour later, but still no answer. He also tried his cell.

Jeremy heard the telephone ringing in the house, but he was too busy to answer it. James was helping him pack his things and put them in storage at their parent’s home. James had to be back to his ship by ten, so he had a limited amount of time to finish helping with the heavy stuff.

“Are you going to answer that?” James asked with a knowing glint in his eye.

“No, I’ve had enough bad news for one day. Whatever it is, it can wait till tomorrow.” Jeremy didn’t share with James that his eviction was due to him answering the phone last night. He didn’t want him to feel any responsibility. It was bound to happen anyway; it was just a matter of time and circumstances.

It was just before ten when Jeremy drove Jim back to his ship. He again offered him financial assistance, but he could not accept. “I really appreciate the offer, but what is the use. I have to wait until I have a job that is secure and pays enough for me to pay my bills.” Jeremy explained, although a part of him ached to accept the money and show Max Donovan that he doesn’t get the last laugh on him.

It was better just to take his lumps and then get back on track. A small apartment would be more feasible for him, financially speaking. He should have gone that route in the beginning. Buying a big house needing massive repairs was a stupid undertaking. He continued to beat himself up mentally until he heard James inform him that, “We’re here.”

“Thanks for your help.” He told James with a sad smile

“Good luck.” James returned the sad smile and patted his arm.

Jeremy sat and watched as he and the others made their way on board the huge freighter. James had a good life. He was settled and sure of himself. Jeremy stopped himself before plunging headlong into self-pity.

He forced himself to focus on the bright side as he drove back to his desolate and soon to be abandoned home. This could be a new beginning. He would be able to save some money now. Without the mortgage and the other house-related expenses, his income would be more than adequate to support him in a small, dreary, lifeless apartment.

His bright side suddenly darkened as he pulled into his drive and once again looked at the house and saw all the possibilities that now would be for someone else to realize. Even the back porch in its dilapidated condition looked beautiful to him now. His eyes began to mist as he opened the door and stepped into a cold and hollow kitchen.

The phone began to ring as soon as he entered. Jeremy considered not answering, but for lack of anything better to do, he picked up the receiver and said, hello.

“Jeremy, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all evening.”

Any other time, Jeremy would have been overjoyed to hear Mr. Michaels’s voice. But now it didn’t matter. If he’d called him yesterday or even this morning, it would have made a difference in his circumstances, but this was too late.

“I have two commissions ready for you, Jeremy; they just came in.” Mr. Michaels sensed his less than enthusiastic response so pushed on. “They will bring in enough to help with your situation, I’m sure.”

“It’s too late,” Jeremy said flatly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s too late.” Jeremy spoke more forcefully than usual. “I’m not interested in the commissions. I need to focus on a job that pays regularly and that is the Gift Shop. I’m going to be working extra hours, and I won’t have time for design work for quite some time. You may want to look for another designer.”

“But on Friday you asked for these. You told me you needed more work.” Michaels seemed angry.

“You said you would let me know over the weekend. This is Monday; this is too late.” Jeremy remained firm.

“You’re really turning me down?” Michaels was incredulous

“Yes, goodbye Mr. Michaels.” Jeremy hung up with a strange empowering sense of satisfaction.

His telephone began to ring again almost immediately. Jeremy grabbed the receiver and stated. “Listen, I’m really not interested.”

“Not interested in what?”

Jeremy did not respond. The voice took him by complete surprise, and he didn’t know what to say to him. If he were going to continue accusing and berating him then, he was not going to stand for it. “Mr. Michaels called earlier, and I’m not interested in any more commissions right now.” He stated.

Jeremy’s tone was lifeless, and it tore at Max’s heart. “I’m sorry about this morning.” He paused to see if he would explain, but he remained silent. “I jumped to conclusions and didn’t give you a chance to speak.” Never in his life had he found such difficulty in expressing himself or making himself understood. “Please, tell me who was with you last night.”

His voice was so grave and serious that Jeremy almost believed that he actually gave a damn about him. But then he remembered Mrs. Wallace and the mortgage. It would have been nice if he’d had this burst of conscience before he foreclosed.

“James Ward.” He said it very clearly and then repeated himself when he heard only silence from the phone. “His name is James Ward, my brother. His ship came in last night for repairs. He called me around midnight and asked me to pick him up. The reason I was taking a shower at that hour was that I managed to slip and fall into a mud hole beside the dock. He didn’t tell me that anyone called until this morning, just before you called back.” Jeremy spoke rapidly.

“He’s not here now. I took him back to the ship about a half hour ago, so you won’t be able to verify my statement, although, you could call my mother and get the truth there. James also visited our parents before he left.” He might as well give him a source so he could check his story.

“That won’t be necessary.” He said. “I believe you.”

“Oh, now you believe me; aren’t you generous.” Jeremy snapped. “This morning, I was someone you should have known better than to get involved with and now everything is fine. Maybe I don’t care if you believe me or not, maybe it is just too damn late to apologize!” His voice gradually rose with the suppressed emotion.

“What do you mean?” Max snapped back at him. “I said I was sorry. I know I acted like an ass.”

“I mean that your revenge is complete. Your apology means nothing to me now! Your actions are the only things that count!”

“Jeremy!” He yelled. “What the hell are you talking about?” He didn’t have a clue what he was on about. His actions, his revenge, what was he saying? “What did I do, why can’t you accept my apology!?”

“You got angry with me this morning, and within the hour you foreclosed on my house. I have to be out by the end of the week. Is that clear enough for you?” Jeremy’s eyes filled with tears as he waited for him to respond. “As if you didn’t know.” He mumbled. How could he be so cruel? Max knew he loved this house, so that’s how he punished him. He should never have gotten involved with him in the first place.

“I didn’t foreclose on your house.” His tone changed abruptly. He was suddenly very calm and very serious “I knew you were behind, but I never even considered any action. I would have paid the mortgage myself before doing anything so deplorable. I would not take your home, Jeremy.” Max thought wildly trying to understand how Jeremy’s property could have been put up for foreclosure. “Please, believe me, I don’t know how this happened, but I’ll fix it, you have my word.”

“Sure, whatever that’s worth.” Jeremy slammed.

“I can’t believe you would think me so low.” He defended. “Don’t you know me at all? If I have a problem with someone, I deal with them directly. I don’t stab them in the back.”

“Oh, look who’s talking about low.” Jeremy was heating up. “This morning I was nothing but a cheap whore in your opinion. Don’t you know me at all?” He mocked. “It’s okay for you to think me a slut but I can’t think of you as a vengeful bastard?”

“Okay! Okay!” He relented. “You made your point. But remember, I did apologize.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore anyway.” Jeremy went from angry to defeated in an instant. “I can’t afford this house. I might as well give it up now rather than later.”

“I don’t understand. I thought your last commission was going to cover your mortgage.” Max knew with the $2400 owed to him by Michaels from the sale of the mother’s pin designs; he should have enough to catch up his payments.

“The client bought only one of my designs so I received $500 instead of the expected $1000, which would have been enough with what I have saved to bring me up to current.” Jeremy sensed a strange tenseness from Max that he didn’t understand. “What’s wrong?” 

“Mr. Michaels gave you $500 for the sale?” He sounded incredulous and a little upset.

“Yes, we split the fee 50/50. That’s how it has always been. I know it is a little steep, but Mr. Michaels is the only jewelry store in town.” Jeremy knew he sounded weak, but that’s how it was. If you want to work with jewelry in this town, you had to work with Mr. Michaels. Take it or leave it.

Max decided not to pursue the subject further until he returned. This was a matter best handled face to face. “Alright, I will be back tomorrow, and I will make sure your home is safe. I trust you, Jeremy. I know you will pay the bank when you have it. Don’t move out and don’t sign anything just wait, okay.”

“Okay, but James already helped me put quite a bit of stuff in storage.” Jeremy was hesitant but what did he have to lose. He could wait a couple of days before moving.

“Don’t move anything else. Stay put until I get there.” Max stressed the stay put. “I’ll fix this. Your home is safe.”

“Thank you.” He stated hesitantly. “And I’m sorry I thought you were a no good piece of shit.” His tone had a sincere apologetic tone.

“Apology accepted.” Max laughed. “Also, next time your brother answers the phone, tell him to introduce himself.”

“Next time I’ll tell him not to answer the phone.”

Jeremy was surprised at how much better he felt after speaking with Max. That morning, he was the last man in the world he ever wanted to see or speak to again and this afternoon he turns into his knight in shining armor. Well maybe not shining armor, but he was certainly looking pretty good.

“You agreed to do the wedding rings. I told them you would have a few designs ready for them this weekend.” Mr. Michaels called back and pleaded with Jeremy to finish the rings.

“I don’t have time.” Jeremy was adamant.

“If you change your mind and need the extra money call me.” That was all Mr. Michaels could say.

“I will.” Jeremy was angry with Michaels, and it showed. He was done with Michaels Jewelers. It was a scam, and he knew it, but he went along with it because he needed the money.

…

“I knew he couldn’t be that awful.” Laura rejoiced upon hearing Jeremy’s good news.

“It’s very decent of him. I will admit that.” Jeremy stated with less exuberance. “He said he didn’t know how my property came up for foreclosure, yet Mrs. Wallace was adamant that I vacate as soon as possible. She wasn’t nice about it at all. How could she be so certain if Max claims he wasn’t even aware that it was happening?”

Jeremy had been thinking about it all night. He analyzed everything everyone said and things just weren’t adding up. Someone has it in for him, or they’re just amusing themselves. Either way, his best interests were not their focus. 

“Between Max Donovan and Betsy Wallace, I would put my trust in Max Donovan,” Laura stated. “Betsy likes to feel her own power, and she likes to make people squirm. It probably wasn’t personal; she just likes to play with people.”

“Max Donovan likes to play too.”

“Oh, does he?” Laura teased.

“I mean he may not be of any higher moral character than Mrs. Wallace.” Jeremy clarified.

Laura didn’t respond. She just stared at him with that look that says, “Who do you think you’re fooling?”

Jeremy cut his mother off with the announcement that he had to stop by the jewelry store. He really wasn’t in the mood to design wedding rings. He wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Michaels again, but he wouldn’t let these people down regardless.

“I’m so happy to see you.” Mr. Michaels gushed as he led him to his design table in the back room. He usually worked on stuff at home, but sometimes it was just as easy to work at the store. Mr. Michaels had a nice quiet area for him in the back of the store, and it suited him well. He remembered last Friday when he had been here drawing portraits of Max Donovan.

Max was to arrive back sometime today. Jeremy had taken his car to the airport right after their falling out yesterday so he wouldn’t be seeing him right away. He quickly caught his thoughts and brought them back under control. He was here to finish the wedding set. He needed to stay on task as his mother never tired of telling him.

He had been hard at work for nearly two hours when suddenly his attention was drawn to a loud commotion coming from the outer store area. Jeremy wondered who was fighting but thought it would be bad manners to get up and see. He didn’t have to wait long to have his question answered.

Mr. Michaels burst into the room and behind him was Mr. Max Donovan. Jeremy stood up bewildered by Max’s presence there in the Jewelry store and by the severe attitude he appeared to be giving Mr. Michaels. Max approached him with the same severe look he’d given Mr. Michaels. Jeremy backed away from his workstation, putting his desk between them.

Max slapped the manila envelope containing the two mother’s pin designs onto the desktop. “Did you design these, Jeremy?” He spoke roughly to him. Jeremy didn’t answer immediately but stared at him and then at the envelope, back and forth, several times before realizing what was inside.

The thought that Michaels had paid him only $500 and had claimed he only sold one design ate at Max through the night and this morning. He was adamant that he would set things straight and get Jeremy what he deserved and hopefully open his eyes a little. By the time his plane had landed he was in a foul mood and upon seeing his car parked and Jeremy nowhere to be seen his mood turned to complete darkness. He was tired of people playing with him and with Jeremy. He was fed up with this town.

“They were for you?” His voice was almost a whisper. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry if you don’t like them.” His spirit was crushing under his disapproval. They’re no good, he thought, and he’s going to tell me they’re no good. He’d asked him what his dreams were, and little did he know that one of them was sitting in front of him, and he was about to destroy it. They’re no good, kept ringing in his head over and over. He doesn’t like my designs; he doesn’t like any of them.

“I love them, Jeremy, just like all of your work, they are beautiful,” Max spoke earnestly, and he leaned over the desk towards him.

The mantra in Jeremy’s brain stopped immediately as he struggled to determine the meaning behind his presence, his treatment of Mr. Michaels and his obvious disapproval of him.

His expression was angry, yet he was telling him something positive. Jeremy wasn’t following his mood or his intent.

“You like them?” Jeremy questioned, completely taken aback by his conflicting behavior.

“Very much.” He responded as if surprised by his doubt. “You’re a very talented artist, and you shouldn’t be selling yourself off like a cheap second-rater.” His tone turned considerably harsher as he continued. Jeremy moved away from the desk and Max followed him until they were face to face.

“You let him take advantage of you?!” Max asked incredulously. “Why would you do that? Everyone is cashing in except you.” He shot Mr. Michaels a look that had him quickly leaving the room. “Didn’t you read your contract? Do you even have a contract?”

Jeremy was taking his verbal assault until the last sentence hit him. “What do you know about anything?!” He yelled, looking up at him and wishing he had the strength to move him out of his way. He was blocking his exit, and he knew it. Every time he made a move, Max countered with one of his own.

“I know enough to know that you’re being taken for a fool!” Max locked eyes with him. He was pushing Jeremy. He wanted him to explode; he wanted Jeremy to be as indignant at Michaels’ treatment of him as Max was.

Jeremy was incensed. “I don’t need you telling me what to do!” he spat. His eyes were flashing with his anger, and his face had turned a deep red as his chest began to rise and fall at an accelerated rate under his thin sweater. He wanted to calm down, but it was impossible. He had no right to be speaking to him like this. It was none of his business.