Chapter 4

 

 

BRANDON KNEW instinctively where Thomas was in the house. His job was to try to anticipate what Thomas was going to need, so he kept an eye on him, which wasn’t hard at all. Thomas was more than easy on the eyes, and Brandon was drawn to him just like he had been when he’d mowed his lawn all those years ago. Not that he was going to do anything about it. Attraction or not, he was going to be professional.

“Thomas,” Brandon said as gently as he could when he found his boss lying on the back-porch chaise, one of the few pieces of furniture left at the house by the previous occupants. Thomas’s eyes were closed, and he actually looked relaxed, at ease… and stunning. The lines around his eyebrows and mouth had smoothed out, and his hair was slightly askew. His chest rose and fell at regular intervals, and his jeans hugged his thighs invitingly. He was handsome, to say the least. Brandon hated to disturb him, but he had some questions. When Thomas didn’t stir, he touched his shoulder, and Thomas opened his eyes. “Sorry.”

Thomas sat up, wiping his face. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He blinked a few times, looking around, probably trying to get his bearings.

“There are a number of questions about the master bedroom. There are three large rooms in this place, and they all have attached bathrooms. Which one do you want?” Brandon felt like a fool.

“Doesn’t matter,” Thomas grumbled.

“Are you sure?” Brandon asked.

Thomas got up with a huff, and Brandon followed him, doing his best not to watch as he climbed the stairs after him. It was hard—pun intended, because he was getting there himself, watching Thomas’s butt encased in those jeans.

At the top of the steps, Brandon pointed at one of the rooms. “This is the master, but it’s in the front of the house.” He opened the other door. “This room is just as big. The only difference is the closet. But it’s in the back and would be quieter. So will that one.” He indicated the third room. “Do you have a preference?”

Thomas looked at both rooms. “It really doesn’t matter after all those years in New York. It’s never quiet there. But put me in the room in the back.” He pulled open the closet door. “This will be just fine.”

“Okay. What size is your bed?” Brandon asked, and Thomas turned to him, their eyes meeting once more.

“King,” he answered in a gruff tone.

Brandon swallowed and nodded, his imagination taking a short flight of erotic fantasy, wondering what Thomas would look like on a deep green king-size duvet. After two seconds, he shook his head slightly and tapped his face with his hand to pull himself back to reality. “Then we can put the bed on this wall and the dresser over here. There’s a chest on the plan for one of the guest rooms, so we could put that at the end of your bed if you like.”

“Sure.” Thomas smiled slightly and patted Brandon’s shoulder, sending a wave of heat through him. It was an innocent touch, and Brandon pushed his reaction away. He was overreacting, which needed to end.

“I’ll have the movers bring the things up. Have you given any thought to where you want the pictures to go? Oh, and those two large crates are downstairs. They look like they made it through in good condition.”

“Thank you. Umm, just leave the pictures for now, I guess.”

Thomas looked like he could use that nap Brandon had interrupted, so Brandon shooed him out, then directed the movers up the stairs with the bed. Once they had the bed and mattress placed, he dug through the boxes for the bedding and pillows and made up the bed for him. Then he shut the door and headed downstairs again.

The truck was nearly empty, with the last of the furniture being placed. The rooms were spare, but that wasn’t anything he could help. The kitchen and family area seemed comfortable enough. One of the movers had organized the kitchen, and the rest were either bringing in the last of the things or taking out empty boxes and wrappings.

“Thomas,” Brandon said when he found him once again on the back porch. “I went ahead and set up your bedroom for you.” The bags under his eyes told him Thomas hadn’t been sleeping. “I can handle the rest of this for you if you need some time alone.” He wasn’t going to suggest sleep, though it seemed to be what Thomas needed.

“Thanks.” Thomas’s phone rang as Brandon went back to supervising the last of the move. If Thomas wasn’t going to take a few minutes to rest when he obviously needed it, there was little Brandon could do except try to help him as much as possible.

An hour later, the movers were packing up the last of their boxes and furniture pads. The living room had only a few pieces of furniture in it because most of the pieces had been diverted into the family area so Thomas could relax when he wanted to. Brandon figured Thomas could buy whatever he wanted for the other room. His goal had been to make Thomas as comfortable as possible.

He was making a final pass through the house when Marjorie called.

“How is the move going?”

“Excellent. Most things are unpacked, and I set up Thomas’s room for him and got his clothes hung in his closet. I figured he could put away the things in his dresser. The decorator did a pretty poor job with colors and such, so I ended up moving a lot of things around. Thomas seemed to like what I did, though.”

“Then that’s what counts,” Marjorie said. “Is he getting any rest at all?”

Brandon rolled his eyes. “He was lying down for a little this afternoon, but he’s been on the phone for most of the day. I think someone is calling him every ten minutes or so. He’s on the phone now.” Brandon bit his lower lip to keep from telling Marjorie how he thought Thomas looked. Thomas was a grown man and didn’t need him tattling on him.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“But he’s the boss. Wouldn’t he just tell people not to call if he didn’t want them too?” Brandon asked.

Marjorie sighed. “No. Thomas is a very good man and a great boss. He’d never tell anyone not to call. Instead he tries to solve their issues, and everyone in this damn place calls him instead of trying to solve problems they can do themselves with a little thought.” Man, she sounded aggravated. “I’ll talk to a few people here, see if they can’t help.”

“Okay.” He really didn’t feel it was something he should get involved with. “Is there anything else I need to do today?”

“No. I sent you a phone and iPad that you can use, and I’ll email you the log-in information so you can access his calendar.” She typed in the background, and then a phone rang. Marjorie put him on hold to take the other call.

He held the door as the last of the movers left the house. One of the men returned with a paper for him to sign. Brandon looked it over, signed for the delivery, and then closed the door after them. The house was quiet, and Brandon went into the sparse living room while he waited for Marjorie.

“Sorry,” she said when she returned, still typing. “No. You should check with Thomas and then go on home. If you got him settled in his house, then you did your job for the day.”

“Thanks, Marjorie.”

“That’s a big job.” She seemed pleased, which made Brandon happy. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow unless something comes up.” She said goodbye and hung up.

Brandon put his phone back in his pocket and went to find Thomas. He found him in the kitchen. The dishes had been put away, but there were no groceries and the refrigerator was empty. Thomas was just closing the door as he came in.

“Can you run to the store?”

Brandon nodded. “What do you want me to get?” He prepared to take notes, but Thomas looked at him as though he had two heads. “I can’t read your mind.”

“Marjorie always takes care of it and….” Thomas paused as though he was surprised. “I never paid that much attention to what was in the house. I either ate what was there or went out and got something from around the corner.”

“I can have some food delivered. Do you want pizza? I think one of the Chinese places will deliver.” Brandon pulled out his phone and ran a search for takeout in the area. “If you put together a list, I can pick things up for you. What would you like?”

“Sushi,” Thomas offered.

“All right.” Brandon found a place and brought up the menu. “Let me know what you want, and I’ll call in the order and get it.” Thomas dictated his order, and Brandon called it in, adding something for himself. “I’ll be right back.”

He drove to the small strip center a few miles away and waited while they finished filling the order. In the meantime he messaged Marjorie about what Thomas liked to drink, and after getting the sushi, stopped at Starbucks for a latte and a macchiato and hurried back to the house.

“Thomas, I got your lunch,” he called as he came back in, heading toward the kitchen. It seemed strange to just walk into someone else’s house. He found Thomas watching ESPN in the open family room and handed him his coffee. Apparently the rental had come with the cable connected. Brandon made a mental note to check with Marjorie about it.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Thomas said, reaching for the coffee.

Brandon brought his sushi on a plate and set it on the coffee table. Then he went into the kitchen and pulled a stool up to the counter.

“What are you doing?” Thomas asked as he turned to him.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Brandon said.

“Please join me if you like.” Thomas rolled his eyes.

Brandon picked up his coffee and the package of sushi, brought it in, and sat in a chair. He carefully put his lunch on the coffee table. “Thanks.” He took a bite of California roll and sipped his drink after he swallowed. “Are you pleased with how things are?”

“Yes.” Thomas ate and watched the tennis match on television. “You did a good job. Thank you.” He didn’t look away from the screen, so Brandon ate and let Thomas do what he wanted. This was his house, after all, but if he didn’t want to eat alone, then why ignore him once Brandon had sat down? It seemed kind of rude to him.

The match continued, and Brandon finished eating, then threw away the trash. Once Thomas was done, he took care of his dishes and left him to watch his match. He called Marjorie and got a list of groceries, then made a quick run to the store so Thomas didn’t starve.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll go on home. You have my number, so call if you need anything.”

Thomas’s phone rang and he answered it, nodding and waving to him. Brandon figured he was being dismissed and left the room. He closed the door before heading out to his car for the drive back to his grandma’s house. It looked like he’d made it through his first day without embarrassing himself.

 

 

“HOW WAS your first day at work?” Grandma asked from where she stood at the stove when he got home.

Brandon inhaled, smiling at the scent of his grandma’s chili. It was a perennial favorite. “Good. Though I didn’t imagine I’d be using my MBA to manage someone’s move into their rental house.” It wasn’t how he pictured his first job at all.

Grandma tapped her spoon on the side of the pot and set it on the holder. “But did you help him?”

Brandon nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I got his house set up, picked up some lunch, and got groceries for him. But then the calls started and he had that phone to his ear the rest of the day.” It was too bad. Thomas should be able to have a moment’s peace. Brandon pulled out one of the old kitchen chairs and sat down. His grandma put a plate with a couple of cookies on it in front of him, and he felt a wave of guilt. He hadn’t told her about the sneezing fit at the interview or the cookie casualties. If she asked, he’d say the plate got broken and leave it at that.

“Then you need to do what you can to be there for him. That’s what he hired you for.” Grandma sat down as well, sighing softly.

“You’re trying to do too much,” Brandon said gently. He’d been worried that she never seemed to stop and that she was looking as tired as Thomas.

“I’m fine. I cook and bake. It isn’t like I’m a stevedore.” She patted his hand, and Brandon got up and made some decaf. It was what his grandma drank. Brandon thought the stuff tasted pretty vile, but he supposed if it was all he drank, he’d probably get used to it if he had nothing else to compare it to. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Brandon set a mug of coffee in front of her. “Don’t know. I’m still feeling my way around. I’ll go on over in the morning and see what he needs. Marjorie will probably have stuff for me to do.” Brandon picked up a cookie. “I’ll probably need to find someone to be the housekeeper for him.” He set down the cookie and wondered what Thomas liked to eat. Thomas had pretty much wolfed down the sushi. “I need to arrange some meals for Thomas.”

“Talk to him and see if he’ll open up a little. I bet he’ll tell you the kind of thing he likes.”

Brandon nodded. “Do you remember him from before he went away? I mowed his yard, but I don’t know much else. He was always busy even back then.”

“He was an energetic one, that’s for sure. Always working and scraping. His mom and dad didn’t have much. After Thomas was old enough to be in school, Grace went to work in the office at the Crawford’s Department Store downtown until they closed. His dad worked at the mill outside town. They had the best life they could afford, but Grace always told me that she felt like she wasn’t doing enough for Thomas. That he always seemed to want more.”

“I guess I can see that. He didn’t get to be a big success without having his eye on what he wanted.” Brandon had seen that in many of the case studies in school. People who were driven by some sort of internal need often succeeded.

“He mowed lawns probably starting when he was twelve and did a good job, the same way you did.” She smiled at him. “Grace told me once that he was working too hard and had more work than he could do.” Grandma sipped from her mug. “I remember Thomas out working until the sun set some nights. Then he hired another kid to work for him. Thomas had some sort of arrangement.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t long before Thomas had a business and he was mowing most of the lawns in the area, with two or three boys working for him.”

“Wow.” Brandon was impressed.

“That lasted until Thomas went to college, I guess. I don’t know what he did when he was at school, but Grace said Thomas started a business there to help support himself.” Grandma shrugged. “After that, there was no turning back for him. He bought a house here a few years after college and was working in real estate, and then sold it when he moved to New York. I was surprised that he left the area, because of Grace and Harold, but he was always driven to want more than what we had here.” She patted the table softly, like that part of the conversation was over.

Brandon told himself that his curiosity about Thomas, his wanting to know what made him tick, was so he could do his job better, but really he was a little nosey. Thomas fascinated him. “Are you glad he’s back?”

She tapped the table nervously. “Grace is, and I’m happy for her.”

Brandon noticed her lack of a smile and the doubt in her eyes.

“I think… I don’t know. It will hurt Grace and Harold pretty badly if Thomas doesn’t like it here and moves away once again. They were so happy when he told them he was coming.” She finished her coffee and stood to return to the stove to stir her pot. “All you can do is your best.”

“I know, Grandma,” Brandon said, finishing his cookies and putting his dishes in the dishwasher.

He went to his room and logged on to his computer to check his email. Before he’d gotten the job with Thomas, he’d sent out so many résumés and job enquiries, it was probably pathetic. He’d trolled Monster and other job sites for days, trying to find leads. At least he had some money coming in, and he was even being paid pretty well.

His phone rang, and he snatched it up. “Yes, Thomas,” he said when he saw his number. “What do you need?”

“I have a list of items for you to get at the store…,” Thomas said, and Brandon made a note in his to-do list. “Could you go first thing in the morning?”

“Of course. I’m assuming that you have laundry and things to be taken care of… and I wanted to ask, do you want me to help engage a housekeeper?”

“That would be great.” Thomas sighed. “I have another call…. I’ll see you in the morning.” The call ended and Brandon stared at the phone.

What the hell was that? There had been nothing in that call that Thomas couldn’t have waited until tomorrow morning to tell him. Maybe Thomas had been thinking of it and decided to call so he didn’t forget? After all, he was still getting those calls.

 

 

HIS GRANDMA’S chili was amazing as usual, and Brandon was stuffed and a little bored. He thought of watching television, but that would mean sitting with his grandma while she watched her shows. Granted, hers weren’t bad or anything, but if he had to watch another rerun of The Big Bang Theory, his head was going to explode. Especially those early seasons that he’d seen eighteen times.

His phone vibrated in his room, and he hurried to get it in case it was Thomas again. The screen flashed George Hansen. Brandon grinned and answered the call. “George,” he said brightly, “what’s up?”

“Nothing. Just sitting here trying to figure out a way to get away from Maureen for a little while,” he whispered.

“What’s wrong? Marital bliss over already?” Brandon had to tease him. It was too fun not to. Maureen and George were like give-you-a-toothache in love. Maureen was pregnant for the third time, and they were always doing shit as a family.

“Nothing’s wrong. She’s home here with the kids, and I thought it’s been a long time since we did anything.” He lowered his voice even more. “It’s been a difficult pregnancy and I’m doing what I can to help, but there’s only so much I can take on for her. She’s in bed with Jason and Lacy, and my hands have cramped from rubbing her feet. So, do you want to go out for a drink? I could use one.”

“You can’t leave Maureen like that!”

“She’s got the kids in bed and told me to get out of the house because she can’t stand to see my face right now. So I’m going to take that as a sign of liberation for a few hours. I can meet you at Whitehall’s in a half hour if you’re up for it.”

“Sure.” Brandon was already heading to his closet. “I’ll be there.”

“Great. You’re saving my life, man.”

“Okay, but you can’t drink much, because I’m not carrying you home and pouring your ass in bed like I did when we were roommates.” That had been a trip. George hadn’t been a huge drinker, but man, when he had, he’d really done it up right.

“Duh. Maureen would kick my ass if I came home drunk. I think I just need a few kid-free hours. Thanks.”

They ended the call, and Brandon changed his clothes into something he hadn’t spent the day working in. “I’m meeting George for a while,” he told his grandma, who was comfortable in her favorite chair and had her feet up. “I won’t be late.” He leaned down to hug her, then went out to his car and headed toward downtown.

Whitehall’s was a western sort of place. Not a bar for the tourists, but a real kind of neighborhood bar that had been there for decades. There were pictures of horses and cowboys because they had been patrons at some point—not the horses, but their owners. The inside had been wood-paneled years ago, and now it was dark from decades of smoke, hands, and people. The place smelled of beer with a faint hint of lingering cigarette smoke. Brandon looked around and spotted George toward the wall at one of the long, worn tables with benches on each side.

“Hey,” Brandon said as George stood. They hugged tightly and then sat back down. George already had a beer in front of him, and Brandon went to the bar and returned. “So what’s really going on?”

George took a gulp of his beer. “Maureen is having a hard time with this one. The last two pregnancies she pretty much sailed right through. She was uncomfortable, but she just kept on going. This one has her tired all the time and in some pain. She isn’t sleeping at night and gets up to pee every five minutes. First she’s starved, and then she doesn’t want to eat and the scent of food makes her sick.” He set his mug down hard, banging it on the table.

“Well. Not every pregnancy is easy. Maybe she was lucky with the last two and is paying for it with this one.” Not that he was any kind of expert. The closest he wanted to come to pregnancy and giving birth was holding the baby once they brought it home. “Jeez, man, you just got to be there for her.”

“I know.” George looked around. “I just need a bit of time and things will be cool. Sometimes the worry and stress get to be a little much.” At least he wasn’t guzzling his beer and ordering another right away. That was a really good sign.

“Would you guys like something to eat?” the waitress, Shirley, asked. “Oh, hey, Brandon.” She smiled at him. “How you been?”

Brandon returned her greeting and stood so they could share a hug. “Not bad. It’s been a long time.” In high school Shirley had been a close friend and knew he was gay, though he never told her. Shirley had guessed, and she had been his fake girlfriend for a time. They’d even gone to prom together and had had a blast.

She nodded when he stepped back. “How are your folks?” she asked, and Brandon shrugged. “That bad?”

“Yeah. How long have you been working here?”

“About six months.” She grinned and flashed a ring.

“Congratulations!” Brandon said, giving her another hug.

“Ashton Martin and I have been dating for a couple years now, and he asked me to marry him. I only work here a couple nights a week so I can help save for the wedding.” She bounced on her heels.

“That’s awesome. Do you know George?” Brandon said, making a quick introduction. “His wife is expecting their third child and this is his night away, so he needs another beer and plenty of junk food.”

Shirley rolled her eyes. “Ashton says he wants to have kids right away, but I told him we’d wait a little.” She grinned.

“Smart woman,” George said, then held up his hands. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my wife and the kids, but if we had it to do over, we’d probably wait a little longer.”

Brandon rolled his eyes. It was easy for him to say that, but Maureen was a devout Catholic, and not having kids meant George wasn’t going to be having sex. And somehow Brandon thought that wasn’t an option. Though after number three….

He and George told Shirley what they wanted to eat.

“I’ll put your orders in and bring another round.” She hurried away, and Brandon settled back in his seat, sipping from his glass.

“She seems nice.”

“I can’t believe you never met,” Brandon said as he looked around the bar to see who else was there. In a town like this, where he’d lived most of his life, there were always people he knew around.

“Who’s the guy sitting uncomfortably at the bar? He looks like he stepped out of GQ and doesn’t have a clue here,” George said, tilting his head to the right.

Brandon followed his gaze and stifled a gasp. “That’s my new boss.” Brandon wondered what Thomas was doing here. This didn’t seem like his kind of place, though he didn’t know of many fancy martini bars in town.

“Boss?” George cocked his eyebrows upward.

“His mom and my grandma know each other. Thomas just moved to town and needed an assistant. And since I can’t seem to get anyone to take a second look at me, I took the job. He’s a pretty nice guy, but is a little clueless about stuff.” Brandon leaned closer. “He doesn’t do his own shopping or even laundry.”

George shrugged. “It’s not like there’s Safeway in New York City. I suppose he’s one of those works-all-the-time people?” He shook his head. “I can’t see doing that any more than I have to. I like what I do all right, but I like the time I spend at home so much more.” He took another drink and pulled out his phone. Brandon knew he was about to be shown a series of kid pictures. Grumble all he wanted, but George was a doting father.

“Maybe that’s the difference between you and him. He has all the money he could possibly want, but no one else. And you have a family and are eternally broke.” Brandon watched as Thomas leaned on the bar with a beer, and stood. “I’m going to ask if he wants to join us.”

“Good, maybe he’ll buy a round.”

“George!” Brandon hissed. “That’s tacky.”

George rolled his eyes. “I’m the broke father of three. Anyone buying the drinks is welcome, and let me tell you, pride went out the window a long time ago.” He set down his glass, and Brandon sighed as he made his way across the room to where Thomas sat.

“Are you getting dinner?” Brandon asked.

Thomas seemed startled, like he was surprised someone would talk to him. In the time since Brandon had seen him, no one other than the bartender had paid him any attention. “Brandon. Yeah. There was no food in the house, and I thought….” He shrugged.

“My friend and I are right over there at that table. You’re welcome to join us instead of sitting alone.” Brandon stepped back, letting Thomas make up his own mind. “Did you order food?”

“Yeah. A while ago. I think the kitchen must be a little backed up.” Thomas cradled his beer mug. “I’d like to join you if that’s really okay.”

Brandon caught the bartender’s eye. “Stan, can you send his food to the table over there?” He pointed, and Stan nodded, raising a hand before going back to pulling beers. The place was getting busier as the evening wore on. “Come on.” He motioned, and Thomas got up off the stool and followed him over to the table.

“George Hanson, Thomas Stepford,” Brandon said, and the two of them shook hands.

Thomas sat down, and Brandon sat on the bench next to him.

“Are you new in town?” George asked.

“New back in town, I guess, is accurate. I moved here from New York, but grew up here,” Thomas explained.

“That’s cool. Do you have family here?”

“My parents and brother. That’s part of why I moved back. Mom and Dad are getting older and need some help. With telecommuting and the internet, I can do most of what I did in New York from here.”

“Do you like it?” George took a sip from his glass.

“Pretty much so far.” Thomas emptied his glass and lifted it. Shirley hurried over and took his order. Thomas explained that he had a tab at the bar, and she said she’d arrange to transfer it. “It’s a nice enough place, but different. Almost too quiet.”

George snorted softly. “Then come on over to my house. I have two kids, one eighteen months and the other a little over three. Maureen is expecting our third, so there’s never any time that’s quiet except the middle of the night, and even then the kids will be up wanting something. Believe me, you can have all the noise you could possibly want.”

Thomas chuckled. “No thanks.” The two of them clinked glasses. “Better you than me. The good thing about being gay is that I don’t have to worry about accidental kids. Of course, unless I really want them, and then I have to go through hell to get them.” Thomas shook his head.

“Do you want kids?” Brandon asked, and Thomas paused as though he’d never been asked that question before.

“I don’t think so,” Thomas answered quietly. “I never gave that part of my life much thought really.”

“Why not?” George asked.

The words had been on the tip of Brandon’s tongue, but he was glad George had asked for him. Brandon was very curious about the answer. Heck, he was curious about anything related to Thomas. The man had certainly captured his attention, and Brandon had a difficult time looking away from him, let alone not hanging on every word. It was stupid and he knew it. Thomas was his boss, and he needed to maintain a professional distance. Thomas might have just admitted that he was gay and all, but that didn’t mean he was interested in Brandon. God, things were getting messed up in his head.

“Well,” Thomas began, “I had big plans that kids didn’t fit into.” He gulped his beer, and Brandon wondered if he was getting up some Dutch courage.

Shirley came over with their food and asked if he wanted another, and Thomas nodded.

“We didn’t have much growing up, and when I was a teenager, I wanted a car… like most kids do when they get their license. Mom and Dad couldn’t afford to get one for me. Not back then. They were working too hard to make ends meet. So I worked and bought my own.”

“Grandma told me about your lawn-mowing business,” Brandon said. “She seemed really impressed.”

Thomas smiled as his beer arrived, and he took a drink. “I found out I was good at business and making money. I started selling candy out of my locker at school, and then other things. After I graduated from high school, I used the money I’d saved to buy some inexpensive properties that I rented to students and then used that money to buy more. I had a lot of cash coming in and was able to support myself. From there I put together some larger deals and made more money. But each deal took a lot of time and meeting with a lot of people. I loved it, and eventually I moved to New York, where I put together massive deals that made even more money.” Thomas grinned. “I was so proud of myself, and my parents were proud—everyone was.” He stared at his plate and began to eat, growing quiet. “I shouldn’t brag.”

“You weren’t,” George told him. “You were telling a story.”

Brandon worried a little about Thomas. He seemed upset, gulping down his beer and asking for another. He’d need to slow down if he wasn’t going to get drunk, but it seemed that maybe that was Thomas’s aim.

“Well, New York, and the business environment there, is very cutthroat and requires a lot of time. I went at it tooth and nail and made a lot of money and helped build a lot of buildings. But….” Thomas looked up from his plate, wiping his fingers on a napkin. “Guys, everything comes at a price. Believe me.”

“I understand that…,” George said.

Brandon snickered. “Who knows that better than you? Every time you have sex, your wife gets pregnant and you end up with another kid.”

“Have you ever heard of birth control?” Thomas asked.

“Maureen is very religious.” Brandon picked up one of his wings, waving it around for a second.

“Religion or not, I think I’m taking things into my own hands after this. She’s having such a hard time right now.”

Brandon turned to Thomas, and both of them cracked up. Brandon dropped his wing on his plate, laughing like hell. “I think you’ll have to.” He could barely see straight, and even George laughed when he realized what he’d said.

“I meant a vasectomy.” He rolled his eyes, and Thomas snorted, sending Brandon into more peals of laughter. God, he wondered for a second if they’d all had too much to drink. He noted that he needed to switch to soda after this glass, because the way the others were going, he was going to need to get them all home.

“Sure you did,” Thomas teased.

“He’ll have three kids under four, and two of them in diapers. I think that’s enough birth control for anyone.” Brandon had stopped laughing.

“Sometimes I wish I’d had kids,” Thomas said rather morosely. “I’m almost forty and spent a lot of my time working. That’s part of why I came here. I want to have a life again.” Thomas drank half his beer and really seemed to be going on a tear. He asked Shirley for another. She brought it, along with a glass of water. Thankfully Thomas drank some of both and went back to eating for a while.

Brandon shared a look with George, who seemed unconcerned. “You can do whatever you want. You know that. Hell, you’re proof of it,” Brandon told Thomas. “You set out to do things most people only dream about while they sit at home in front of the television, watching one of those shows where rich people bicker and fight with each other.”

“Maureen loves those Real Housewives shows. She says it makes it look like rich people are just like us… or some such rot. Personally I think it makes everyone look ridiculous. I can’t stand it for a second, but she loves it.”

“See. You lived that life and made something of yourself,” Brandon said. Part of him wished he could be in Thomas’s shoes, successful and with enough money that he could take care of his grandma instead of her helping him.

“Yes, I did.” Thomas turned to him, his eyes deepening. “I had goals and I fulfilled them, more than. I became a huge success.” There wasn’t a hint of happiness in Thomas’s eyes, and that sent a chill through Brandon. It was like Thomas was empty in a way… or believed he was.

“So after reaching one dream, you need to find another,” Brandon offered, then blushed when it came out sounding like he was some idealistic little kid. He turned away and ate some of his wings. He figured if he was busy, he wouldn’t say something stupid again. But damn it all, he kept glancing at Thomas, who had finished yet another beer and ordered another in a relatively short period of time.

“I’m going to hit the head,” George said, getting up and leaving Brandon alone with Thomas.

“Are they good?” Brandon asked, glancing at the last of the wings.

“Yeah.” Thomas dropped the bones on the plate, wiped his hands, drank some more of his beer, then set the glass aside, pushing it away. “I think I’ve had enough. Blaze, a friend from back in New York, tells me I get maudlin when I’ve been drinking, and I think I’m there.” He drained the glass of water and burped, covering his mouth with his hand.

“I’ll drive you home and I can arrange to pick up your car in the morning.” Brandon finished the last of his dinner as George returned. He caught Shirley’s attention, and she brought some coffee and another soda.

“I got the check,” Thomas said, pulling out a large bill and handing it to Shirley when she returned. “Thanks for everything.” He pressed it into her hand and then got up. Brandon wondered just how long Thomas had been sitting at the bar before they got there, because he was pretty unsteady on his feet.

“Is that enough?” Brandon asked Shirley as Thomas rocked his way toward the door.

“Yeah. More than….”

“Okay. Keep the change.” Brandon smiled. “Put it toward the wedding.” They shared a smile. “I’ll see you later,” he said to George.

“Yeah, I need to get back to Maureen.” He pulled Brandon into a hug. “It was good to see you.”

“You good to drive?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” George said, and Brandon looked him in the eyes, making George chuckle. “I didn’t drink all the beers I ordered. Thomas downed two of them before I even got hold of them. He’s the one you need to worry about. I only had two, and plenty of food. I’m good.” George went to his car and seemed okay.

Brandon hurried to Thomas, who was fussing with his shirt. “This way.” He guided Thomas to his car and got him inside. “Give me your keys,” Brandon said, and Thomas handed them over. “You can’t drive.”

“I’d get a cab at home,” Thomas grumbled. “No cabs here.”

“You just have to call them.” And somehow Brandon doubted Thomas would be able to think well enough to make that call. “It’s okay. I’m going to take you home.” He got Thomas buckled in before pulling out of the parking lot.

“I don’t have any friends here,” Thomas said as he stared out the window. “I grew up here, but I don’t know anybody. Not really.” He turned his head toward Brandon, and he seemed to be trying to focus. “I called people I knew once, but things are different… everything is different.”

“Things are the same here. It’s you who’s different.”

“I know that,” Thomas snapped and then cringed. “I’m sorry. I know I changed. I became one of those New York people.” He hung his head, which bounced a little with each bump in the road. “I used to go to Whitehall’s when I was in college. It was a favorite. Knew everybody.” At least that explained why Thomas had been there. “Shit changes, I guess.”

After a few minutes, Brandon pulled in to Thomas’s drive and up to the door. He looked over at Thomas, who leaned back in the seat, sighing. “How much did you have to drink?” Thomas seemed very drunk, and it worried him.

“What you saw. Was always a lightweight,” Thomas slurred.

Brandon got out and went around to help Thomas out of the car and into the house. The stairs provided an interesting navigational challenge. “Come on, Thomas. You can make it up.” He was already starting to get sleepy, and Brandon patted Thomas’s stubbled cheek. “You need to get upstairs.” He pushed, and Thomas started going again. Brandon got him to the room he’d made up earlier, pulled down the covers, and got Thomas seated on the side of the bed. “Can you get your shoes and stuff off? I’m going to get you some aspirin and water so you don’t feel so bad in the morning.” Brandon hurried to the bathroom and got what he needed.

Thomas had flopped back on the bed by the time he returned, already snoring away. Brandon pulled him up and got him to take the pills and drink the water. Then Thomas collapsed on the mattress, and in seconds he snored loud enough to wake the dead.

Brandon took off Thomas’s shoes and socks, and swung his legs around so they were up in the bed. Then he opened Thomas’s shirt and rolled him from side to side to get it off. He gasped at a large straight scar down Thomas’s shoulder to his chest. It was pink and old, but Brandon wondered what could have happened. Brandon had to stop his finger from tracing it, but his gaze raked over the rest of him.

Thomas was beautiful. He didn’t look the same as the first time Brandon had seen him without his shirt. He looked older, but in a good way, like his body had seen life. There was the scar and other marks, but Thomas still seemed just strong, and even more solid than he’d been then. Brandon wanted to touch, but he felt like a perv, and he’d never been given permission to touch. Hell, he wanted to know what those muscles felt like under his hands, though.

Slowly Thomas rolled over with a groan, and Brandon stepped back. He pulled the covers over Thomas, then left the room and locked the house behind him before going back to his grandma’s.

 

 

“YOU’RE STILL up?” Brandon asked when he found his grandma in the living room under a blanket in her favorite chair, feet up and television on.

“Can’t sleep.” She turned to him. “Don’t get old—it sucks. Half the time you’re too tired to do anything, and the rest of the time you can’t sleep.” She tugged the blanket up, and Brandon sat on the sofa. “Did you have a good time?”

“In a way. I was at Whitehall’s with George, and Thomas was there.”

“Your boss Thomas?” she clarified and Brandon nodded.

“I think he’s really lonely.” Brandon looked down at his shoes.

“Well, he wouldn’t know many people here now, I suspect.”

Brandon took her closest hand. “I think what I saw was something that goes deeper than just the few days since he’s been here. I think he’s alone and has been for a while. Anyway, we all talked, and Thomas drank enough that I took him home and put him to bed.” He sighed. “What do I do?”

His grandma didn’t say anything right away, thinking as she usually did for important questions. “You’re his assistant and you can help organize his life and make it easier, but I don’t think part of your job description is his mental health.” She leaned forward a little.

“I know that. But should I ask him about it in the morning?” Brandon wondered if he should call Marjorie and ask.

His grandma licked her lips. “No. I think you should say nothing to him. He may be embarrassed about what he said, and he deserves his privacy. Do your job. If you want to watch so you know he’s okay, do that. The man has his pride, and he was out for a drink with you guys. He blew off a little steam and maybe he said some things he isn’t proud of. I think a good assistant would keep that to himself and just go ahead and do his job.” She sat back in her chair as though she’d said her piece. “You should go on to bed. Morning comes early when you have to go to work.”

Brandon shrugged, kissed his grandma good night, and went to his room. Even though he wasn’t expecting anything from Thomas, he checked his phone and then cleaned up and climbed in bed. He hoped he’d go right to sleep, but he had a feeling that old fantasies were going to crop up plenty during the night.