Chapter 3

“HE WHAT?” Marjorie asked when Thomas described what had happened.

“Yeah. Sneezed all over everything through the entire interview.” Thomas chuckled.

Marjorie clicked her tongue. “And you didn’t do anything to help him.” Man, she sounded pissed. “The poor man had an allergic reaction to your mom’s dogs and you think that’s funny.” No, she was way beyond angry and well into livid. “I’d probably be as miserable as he was, but I’d have said something.”

He knew she would have too.

“You need an assistant there. I can manage your schedule and calendar for you, but I can’t get your cleaning and run the errands that always seem to come up at the last damn minute.” Marjorie really had a head of steam, and Thomas wondered who was the boss. “That young man has an impressive résumé, and I liked him when we talked on the phone. He’s funny, and he doesn’t have an agenda like the others I talked to did.”

“Others?” Thomas asked as he absently searched through some papers.

“Yes. I talked to eight candidates. One was clearly more interested in you being single than she was in the job. Two of them chewed gum, cracking it like teenagers through the entire phone interview. I wanted to box their ears. I swear one of them didn’t have the brains God gave a rock, and the others were completely unsuitable and set off more alarm bells than a prison breakout. Brandon was nice, respectful, and he’s interested… until you sabotaged him with your mother’s walking balls of barking death.”

“Okay. I think that’s enough.” He didn’t snap, but he was firm. Something seemed to have gotten into Marjorie.

“You need someone to help you out there. Just because you’re out of New York doesn’t mean you’re going to sit around with your feet up. I know you. You’re going to work and get caught up in some deal. Then you’ll forget to have your laundry done, and, hell, you’ll realize one night that you’re starving and there’s nothing in the house to eat, and I won’t be there.”

“I’m not that bad,” he protested. “I’m an adult and can take care of myself.”

“Really? You do realize that groceries come from a store? They don’t magically appear in your refrigerator. The same with plumbers and repairmen. Someone has to call them and be there when they arrive. You never saw any of that. Just like your clothes. They aren’t washed by elves and magically reappear back where they belong. I took care of that for years. Well, me and Darlene. She did most of the running when I had to be at the office. But it got done because your assistants made sure you could be as productive as possible.”

“Darlene? Who’s Darlene?” Thomas didn’t recall ever hearing that name before.

Marjorie sighed. “Your housekeeper. She did your household running and cleaned up while you were gone. I engaged her years ago. She’s a wonderful lady, and you never met her because you didn’t need to. We took care of what needed to be done. And so you know, Darlene is retiring and going to live with her daughter upstate. You gave her a nice bonus and sent a card.”

“To someone I never met…. How did I miss that?” he asked quietly. Thomas knew Marjorie handled a lot of things for him so he could concentrate on what was important. He didn’t realize just how far into his work he’d fallen.

“Because I took care of it. And you asked to meet your assistant in Colorado Springs, and I let you. But that young man is the only one who seemed a likely prospect for the job. Are you really going to discount him because he’s allergic to dogs?”

Thomas groaned. “I suppose not.”

“Then good,” Marjorie chirped. “How much are you going to offer him? You need to give some thought to the kind of things you’re going to want him to do for you. If you give your okay, I’ll handle everything on this end and have him report for duty on Thursday. That’s when you should be able to get into your rented house. He can help with the movers.”

He heard her clicking away, knowing she was doing her usual multitasking thing. “All right. I’ll trust you on this one.” She was the one person who never let him down.

“Good. I’ll call him tomorrow, settle the details with him, and tell him when and where to show up. I’m texting you his phone number for now. I’ll be sending him some company equipment so he can get started.”

“Fine,” Thomas agreed.

“Okay. Why all this resistance? He couldn’t have been that bad. On the phone he had energy and seemed eager.”

Thomas could almost see Marjorie’s perfectly plucked eyebrows rise. “He was.”

“Then what’s the problem?” she pressed.

Leave it to Marjorie to call him on his bullshit. Almost everyone else was too enthralled and nodded their damned heads at him.

“He’s….” Thomas gulped. “You never saw him, did you?”

“What, is he ugly or something?” she teased, then chuckled. “I looked him up on the internet and thought he was rather cute-looking. And from his Facebook account, I’d say he was gay, though it doesn’t state that explicitly.” Marjorie paused, and he heard her gasp. “I take it he’s really cute and he floats your boat.” Then she started laughing.

“It’s not funny. He’s so much younger than I am, and I’m not going to get involved with my assistant. God, that’s so tacky. Not to mention stupid. I mean, really.”

Marjorie continued chuckling. “Just think. The great Thomas Stepford being attracted to his assistant. I have to ask, do you think you can behave professionally with this boy? Because if not, I will have to try to find someone else.” She grew quiet for ten seconds, then laughed again.

“I don’t see what’s so funny.” He waited while her laughter died away.

“You. I have known you for twelve years and worked for you for most of them. Other than once—and we both know what kind of mistake Angus was—you have never shown any interest in anyone. There have been men in this office who have flirted with you nonstop… gorgeous men, and you never noticed any of them. So yeah… I think you’ll treat Brandon professionally and with respect.”

“You really are a pain in the ass sometimes,” Thomas groused and sighed.

“Is that Marjorie?” his mother said as she came into the room, followed by both of the dogs. Buddy jumped up into Thomas’s lap and made himself comfortable.

“Yes. Do you want to talk to her? She’s only giving me grief right now about my new assistant.” He held out the phone, and his mother shook her head.

“Just tell her I said hello.” She sat down. “Oh, is it Thelma’s grandson?” she asked as she lifted her knitting bag and slowly got to work. With her rheumatism, she couldn’t work as fast as she used to, but it was good therapy for her and helped keep her joints limber.

“Yes. Marjorie thinks I have a thing for him and is wondering if I can keep professional.” He rolled his eyes, and his mother looked up at him with a shrug.

“You better be professional. He used to mow your lawn when he was a kid.”

Thomas nearly dropped the phone. He’d been trying to figure out why Brandon looked familiar, and now the pieces fell into place.

“Marjorie, I need to go.” He felt himself paling, and he didn’t want to listen to her laughter when she found out about this. “Just take care of things.”

“Of course.”

Thomas put his phone in his pocket. “What are you talking about?” he asked his mom. “He used to what?”

“Brandon Wilson was the young man who mowed your lawn when you were still living here. Remember? He took that tangle of a lawn you had and made it nice. That was before the business really took off and you decided to move everything to New York.”

“How old was he then?” Thomas asked a little breathlessly.

“About fifteen, I’d think. Why?”

Thomas shivered as he tried to remember. Brandon had been tall even then, lanky and handsome, with the best eyes. Not that Thomas spent a great deal of time watching him. He’d been aware that he was a kid, and there had been no way he was going to perv on someone underage.

“No reason.” That would make the adult Brandon about twenty-five, and man, he’d grown up handsome. That was for sure. “Marjorie is handling the last of the employment stuff for him.”

His mom smiled. “That’s very nice of you. That’s going to help both of them a lot.” She continued her knitting, so Thomas put the dog on the floor, stood, and wandered through the house he’d grown up in to the backyard.

As soon as the door slid open, both dogs raced over and filed outside, turning around to see where he was going.

“You’re little pests,” he said with no heat. They were largely good dogs, and when he sat on the lounger in the shade, they both jumped up and settled around him.

He’d come here to try to simplify his life, maybe even enjoy some free time and relax. What he hadn’t expected were complications, like an assistant who was drop-dead gorgeous and made his heart race a little faster. He’d always hired women to avoid any sort of attraction when he needed someone close to him. That was how he’d found Marjorie, and Karen before her.

Thomas groaned and lay back, closing his eyes. The dogs snuggled closer, as if knowing he had a dilemma to contend with. Not that it really mattered. None of it did. Brandon was going to be his assistant, and that meant he could treat him the same way he did Marjorie and everyone else who worked for him. It didn’t matter that Brandon was walking, talking sex appeal, or that he had the bluest eyes and the longest lashes Thomas had ever seen. None of that was important. He had to ignore it, as well as the way his heart raced just by having Brandon standing close to him. He’d tell himself that a million times if he had to. None of that mattered. Brandon was going to work for him and that was all that counted. He’d been down the road of dating an employee and it had been a disaster. He wasn’t doing it again.

THOMAS SPENT the rest of the day and the next doing very little, like he was on vacation. Not that he took regular vacations, but he felt good and his calendar was largely free. Marjorie only sent him a single text to let him know that Brandon had accepted the job as his assistant and that he would be at the house he’d rented Thursday morning to meet the movers and help oversee that things were properly unloaded. Apparently Marjorie had also hired people who would unpack everything and a decorator to set up the house. Thomas could move things around, of course, but the initial unpacking would be done.

Thursday morning, Thomas got up, dressed, and drove over to his home early in the morning. Marjorie had helped him find the house. It was bigger than he’d set out to get, but it was available, so he’d taken it. Renting left his options open. The plan was for him to live here for six months or so until he got settled in the area and knew what he wanted. Then he could decide if he liked it here and wanted to settle down or if he would go back to New York.

There was a car already in the circular drive, so he parked behind it. He went inside and found Brandon standing in the entrance hall.

“Good morning, Mr. Stepford,” Brandon said as he entered. “Your mother forwarded a key via my grandmother. I hope it’s okay that I got started.”

“Thomas, please,” he said without thinking as he looked around. He’d seen pictures of the house, but this was the first time he’d been inside.

“All right. Thomas.” Brandon smiled, and Thomas’s heart beat a little faster. He pushed away the zip of attraction and kept his mind on the task at hand. “Marjorie apparently sent a list of your furniture and things to a designer, and they developed some basic plans for placement. She sent that over to me yesterday, and I’ve been reviewing it.”

“What do you think?”

“After seeing the house, I think she had some good ideas, but other things are going to be problematic. We can make adjustments as we go.” Brandon seemed excited, and Thomas watched as he left the entryway, heading to the large living room. “She has the television in here, but I thought it would be better in the room in the back off the kitchen. It’s cozier and less formal.”

“All right. You do what you think is best,” Thomas said as he turned to leave the room.

Brandon stared after him.

“What is it?”

“Don’t you care? This is going to be your home. Maybe for just as long as you rent it, but you’re going to live here. Don’t you care where things get put?” Brandon scratched his head.

Thomas shrugged. “It’s only for a few months. So what does it really matter?” His phone rang and Thomas pulled it out of his pocket. “Hey, Blaze.”

“Do you miss New York yet?”

Thomas chuckled. “Not really. The movers are about to arrive at the house I rented. Though I don’t know what I’m going to do with all this space.” He turned to look through the large rooms. “I have a small dining table. The room here could fit a table for twelve.”

“No shit?” Blaze asked. “Damn, I forget sometimes that the rest of the world doesn’t live in tiny apartments and raise a family of four in eleven hundred square feet. I suppose you’re not going to know what to do with it all.”

“I’ll figure it out.” He turned, watching as Brandon reviewed the furniture layouts, occasionally glancing his way and then back to what he was doing. “How are you? How are things there?”

“No different. I mean, you haven’t been gone all that long, and everything is just fine. The Swanson deal is moving forward without a hitch, and the Hell’s Kitchen building just received the final approvals, so construction is getting ready to start. Everything is sailing along.”

“Good.” Thomas sighed softly and let go of some of the trepidation he’d had about moving away. “I’m glad.”

“No, you’re not,” Blaze said. “You’d be happier if everything had fallen apart in your absence and you had to come back and save the day.” He laughed. “Don’t give me any of your crap. I know you too well. You live for this place.”

Thomas stifled a groan. “I used to.” He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice, but he probably failed.

“What’s with the sadness? Is there something you haven’t told me?”

Leave it to Blaze to become insightful all of a sudden.

“Maybe.” Thomas turned to where Brandon had opened the front door to let the movers inside. He led them through the hall and out of Thomas’s sight. “It’s nothing serious. Just that the doctors told me I needed a break from all the stress. They are worried about my blood pressure and the fact that things… are….” He didn’t want to talk about this. The doctors had been worried about his digestive issues and stomach pains.

“Then you best take care of yourself. We have things in hand here. Maybe in a few weeks, once the Swanson deal is finalized, I’ll fly out to see you.”

“I think I’d like that.” Thomas smiled as he thought of seeing his best friend once again.

“Good. Now take it easy and, damn you, I wish you’d said something before.” Blaze sounded more than a little pissed.

“It’s no big deal. Mom and Dad needed me here, and I needed a break and to take things slower. It seemed like this was the right thing to do for now. I can try to let go of some of the stress and see what Mom and Dad need.” He shrugged as the movers began carrying in boxes. Brandon stood at the door like an adorable traffic cop, pointing and laughing with the guys as they passed.

“Thomas, are you there?” Blaze asked. “Are you listening to me?”

“Sorry. My attention was pulled elsewhere.” Yeah, exactly where it doesn’t need to be. You don’t need to be watching Brandon every chance you get.

“I can tell. You get done what you need to and call me when you have a chance, okay? We can talk some more.” Blaze ended the call, and Thomas put the phone in his pocket, then joined Brandon at the door.

“Is everything under control?”

Brandon turned to look at him, and their gazes met for just a few seconds, but a shiver went up Thomas’s spine, and he swallowed, taking a step back. But the intensity that passed between them didn’t dissipate.

“Yes.” Brandon turned away and cleared his throat. “There’s a large team of movers.” He stepped back as boxes were brought in and distributed through the house. “That goes in the room next to the kitchen instead of the living room,” Brandon directed the movers.

As he returned to his post, his scent reached Thomas’s nose, clean and masculine, with just a hint of cologne that only added to the male intensity that washed off him. Thomas had to stop himself from inhaling deeply.

“There are two large wooden cases on the truck. Have them put in the living room and don’t have them opened. They can stay that way for now.” He’d figure out where he wanted to put them and then have them professionally hung.

“All right.” Brandon made a note and stepped back as the movers brought in the sofa. He excused himself and followed them, directing them on the placement, then returned. Brandon seemed efficient and careful, which was a plus. But every time he turned to Thomas, with those eyes…. Thomas had seen that color once, when he was in the Caribbean. The blue of the sea when the sun shone on it. The color was stunning, and Thomas could watch it all day.

“I need to make some calls,” he said, and left the room just to get away from Brandon. Man oh man, he was in deep trouble. His willpower was draining away after only an hour with Brandon. He needed to get it together and put this crap aside. Brandon worked for him, and that meant he was off-limits.

Besides, what would a handsome young guy like him see in an old man about to turn forty?