Cowboy: The Mathesons - Book 2 Page 6

  Mason pulled out his phone. He’d taken photos. In moments we were both looking at the new office space. I braced myself for shots with Tate. Fortunately, the first images were simple shots of the new location.

  One room was a small pond of cubicles all furnished in the same dull shade of beige. I saw a reception desk with cheap wood veneer and a dull carpet that might have been in fashion in the 80s.

  I shook my head, looked across the table, and said, “Surely that’s not…”

  Mason nodded. “Pretty bad, eh?”

  “But I saw the Matheson and Greene offices in L.A. They were all bright colors and sunshine. The old offices here weren’t bad. I should know. I helped work on them. They had that traditional oak boardroom look. That’s always in fashion, and it works well here in New York.”

  “Yes, stylish space is imperative for a top-notch advertising firm. This—isn’t it.”

  I sipped my wine. I was relieved to talk about something that wasn’t specifically about the Matheson family. They could never be wholly separated from the family company, but at least we could talk about it like a business, not a relationship with emotional baggage.

  I asked, “Do you have the capital available for a serious renovation project? This is all fixable, but it wouldn’t be cheap.”

  “We do, but we need a top-notch designer to head up the team. It sounds like we’re on the same page. I’m ready to make a contract offer. I’ve seen what you can do for other companies, and you gave us some great spruce-up pointers in the past. If my invitation to share a drink had an ulterior motive, this is it. I plead guilty.”

  I was still skeptical about the real ulterior motive, but I knew the job offer was a serious one. Mason wouldn’t joke about that. It would be a great project to tuck into my resume while opening my new independent firm. Mason knew how to drive a hard bargain. He was a gifted businessman.

  I said, “I’m leaving the company where I work, so I wouldn’t have their resources to back me up.”

  As soon as the words tumbled out of my mouth, I wanted to kick myself again. I’d been offered a project without even needing to go through a bid process, and I was trying to talk the customer out of it. I should have been promoting the incredible flexibility that would come with working on my own.

  “Are you opening up your own company? Surely, you’re not leaving the design business. It would be excellent to work with you directly and avoid the overhead of a larger design firm. This would be a great opportunity for you. Don’t you agree?”

  Mason was right about everything he said, but I also knew that I’d have to see Tate if I accepted the job. After all, he was head of the New York offices. He would also have to approve the working arrangement. Mason had seniority in the overall company, but Tate called the shots in the city.

  I lowered my voice and brought up the elephant standing in the middle of our table. “Tate…”

  “I trust the two of you can maintain a productive professional relationship. Of course, I couldn’t think about this without nodding to your history, but you both seem to be moving along well. I don’t see a problem, do you? You both work hard when you have a goal in mind.”

  I saw about five thousand problems, but I couldn’t pin it down to a single one that made any sense. None of it rose to the level of being worth sinking my own company’s chance at success. After all, I still had feelings for Tate, and I couldn’t ignore the lingering desire for a miracle—somehow. I’d have the opportunity to make regular contact. Maybe we could patch things up enough to become friends. I groaned.

  “Did you think of a problem?”

  What I’d thought about was the idea of a cordial friendship with Tate for the rest of my life. We’d share hundreds of hugs and handshakes without ever getting to touch each other that way again. It sounded like endless torture.

  In the voice of a reasonable professional, I said, “I’m leaning toward taking the contract, but I want to see the building myself first.”

  “Oh, of course. How about tomorrow? I’ll talk to Tate and make sure that we’re not interrupting a crucial meeting. Otherwise, you can see the entire office space. Also, it will be great for you to meet the New York staff. They’ll most certainly be excited about a change.”

  I watched Mason’s mouth curl up into a smug smile. He’d won another feather to stick in his cap. We both knew what he was up to, but his company’s financial resources had me in a bind. While he smiled, I thought about the cowboy I’d seen with Tate a few evenings earlier. If Mason was working hard to get me into the same building as Tate, perhaps the cowboy wasn’t actually a boyfriend. I tried to force a smile to match Mason’s.

  “I’ve got an evening free tonight in the city. Do you have a sightseeing suggestion for a California boy?”

  I didn’t know why Mason was asking me, and why he had the evening free. He was visiting his brother. I thought they would spend their evenings together.

  Then the reason hit me like a ton of bricks. An iron claw gripped my stomach. Tate was still working overtime. He couldn’t even take an evening off to spend time with his brother who’d flown all the way across the country to see him. Taking a deep breath, I decided to see if I could help Mason have a good trip anyway.

  “Have you ever seen the sunset from the Empire State Building? It’s incredible. I’d go with you this evening, but I promised Mom Tina I’d help her with design ideas for her next gallery show.”

  Mason smiled. “I’ve never done that. Maybe I can take Kyle with me on the cellphone. He’ll love it. The next time I come out here, I’m going to bring him with me. If we have to figure out a way to hire someone new at the resort so he can get away, I’ll do it. Working too much is a disease, but I guess you already know that. I’m in recovery. Kyle is the perfect medicine.”

  7

  Tate

  “Hey there, little brother!” called Mason. “Welcome home. Did you have a hard day? I’ve got a cup of coffee brewing for you. I watched for you out the window and saw you on your way up.”

  I held my hand to my chest. “And you nearly sent me into cardiac arrest. I was ready to call the cops when I saw you moving out of the corner of my eye. I thought you were leaving town today.”

  Mason headed for the kitchen to retrieve my coffee for me. Something was up. He’d gone to the Empire State Building the evening before while I worked late, and we only said a few words and had a quick hug at breakfast while I hustled out the door. He told me his flight left at 10:00 a.m.

  “It’s a last-minute reprieve. If it works okay for you, I’m here for a few more days. I can find a hotel if necessary, but I’d love to stick around with my brother. We don’t get to see enough of each other.”

  I took the coffee from his hand and sipped at it while peering at him over the rim of the mug. “That’s not everything. You’re staying around here in New York for some reason. Otherwise, you’d be dying to get home to Kyle. What’s up?”

  “Let’s go sit in your living room. It’s great there now that the morning sun isn’t heating it up anymore.”

  I started to say that we could talk in the hallway right where we were, but I almost always followed Mason’s lead. “Okay, but then you have to tell me why you’re suddenly excited to stay here in the city.”

  Mason settled in on my leather sofa, and I sat in an upholstered chair across from him. I watched him take a sip of the coffee and listened while he noisily praised my choice of a standard supermarket brand of beans.

  “You remember my less than excited comments about the interior at the new Matheson and Greene offices, right?”

  So this was what it was about. Mason wanted to spruce up the offices, and he had to be in charge. Many office managers would be offended by his end run around their local authority, but I didn’t care much. Choosing furniture and carpet wasn’t really my thing, and it reminded me too much of Simon anyway. Mason was welcome to stick around and make us look more like Matheson and Greene East.

  “Yep, you weren�
�t impressed. Does that mean you’re sticking around to get us up to speed with the L.A. home office?”

  “Well, in a way. I won’t be staying too much longer here in New York, but I’ll conference in on calls to check the progress. I do need to share some news. It’s sorta big.”

  I tensed. I didn’t know whether I was ready for a big item. “There’s already something else?” I sipped the coffee again and lowered my eyes. Mason was starting to worry me.

  “I already hired the designer for the project.”

  “You hired someone? Does Lily know somebody out here, or how did that happen? You didn’t send out an RFP for the job.” I started thinking about Mason’s schedule the day before, and a chill began working its way up my spine. Surely, he didn’t…

  Mason blurted it all out at once. “Simon’s starting up a design firm on his own, and I signed us on as his first customer. He has plenty of experience. We know his skills. He knows the company. It’s a perfect match. I have complete confidence in him.”

  “You…” My voice trailed off. I couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say. The shock hit my head like a thunderbolt, but then it wore off quickly. It was a logical choice, and I should have realized that’s what Mason was up to when he said he was going to have a drink with Simon. I’d been busy thinking about myself. It was my usual tunnel vision.

  “We’ve got a meeting with him tomorrow morning at the office.”

  “Tomorrow? Are you kidding? It’s Simon, for fuck’s sake. If you have to have a meeting right now with him, can’t it just be you? I’ll find someone else on the staff if you need two people in the room.”

  Mason chuckled softly. He leaned forward and patted my knee. “You know, his reaction was almost like yours, except he knew that this was a great deal for him professionally. He couldn’t turn it down. We’re all moving forward. It’ll be good for both of you.”

  * * *

  I was nervous as hell the next morning. My hands were shaking so hard that I could barely button my shirt. In desperation, I asked for Mason’s help with my tie.

  While he nimbly tied the Windsor knot, I grumbled, “You know this is all your fault. You could have gone down to the Village and found somebody else. It wouldn’t be that hard. They might cost a little more, but those big deals out West could pay for it. Manhattan is teeming with designers.”

  Mason shook his head. “This is a great idea. Just wait and see. I told Lily last night before bed, and she gasped with excitement. She’s firmly in my camp, so that means we outvoted you. She wished that she could be here. And then I got to listen to little Tilda gurgling over the phone. She’s so sweet.”

  I smiled. “The baby was adorable. I’ll give you that. I got to hold her at the wedding, and she gripped my index finger so tight with that little hand.”

  After straightening the tie, Mason took a step back. “Perfect! I’ll tell you right now that I’m not responsible if fireworks go off and little hearts start drifting through the air.”

  “I’m holding you responsible for every damned thing that happens today. You can’t weasel out of it.”

  I headed straight for my office when we arrived at Matheson and Greene. It was my refuge despite the fact that it had plate glass on three sides. If necessary, I could shield them all by closing blinds.

  We decided that Mason would meet Simon first, and they would discuss some of the issues of the space before heading to my office for more project details.

  Mason was popular with the office staff. They exchanged stories and laughed over cups of coffee while I stared at my computer screen poring over the latest details of our New York advertising campaigns.

  I opened and closed the fingers on my right hand when I saw Mason leave our open cubicle space and head to the lobby. Glancing at my watch, I read 10:00 a.m. on the dot. Simon was always punctual.

  A few minutes later, Mason returned with Simon at his side. I watched through my office windows while trying to look like I wasn’t paying any attention. Simon was as nervous as me. I saw it in his body language. He glanced once in my direction and then followed at Mason’s shoulder while they discussed the project and made a few measurements here and there.

  The only change in Simon that I noted was his hair. I hadn’t paid close enough attention when I unexpectedly met him on the street with Hamish. He was wearing a stylish straight asymmetrical cut combed over to one side instead of his usual wavy, coarse dark hair. I’d raked my fingers through it so many times. The new cut wasn’t an improvement. Maybe my heart could stay neutral. I tried not to notice the crisp, perfectly fitting, dark blue jeans.

  Mason and Simon disappeared into the back staff break area, and I tried to return to a focus on my work. A pen and pencil both rolled off my desk when I moved a stack of papers. Grumbling, I crawled under the desktop to retrieve them. As soon as I was down on the floor in my suit on all fours, a loud knock sounded on the door to the office.

  I tried to scramble back to my chair, bumped my head on the desk, and sent the seat rolling halfway across the office. Growling, “Goddamnit!” I climbed to my feet. I bellowed, “It’s open.”

  As I heard the knob on the door turn, I hoped it was my secretary paving the way for a meeting with Simon, but it was Mason with Simon at his side. Their eyes sparkled with humor as they watched me reflexively brushing my suit trying to smooth the wrinkles I collected from crawling around on the floor.

  Simon offered his hand to shake. “Oh, for Chrissake,” said Mason. “Give each other a hug.”

  I reached out for Simon, and we hugged. It was a real hug, not a bro hug with a hand in the way, but I didn’t press hard. I didn’t want to feel the thick cock packed in his jeans. My backbone stiffened when I realized I was hard. Perhaps my heart was still idling in the background, but my body had its own ideas.

  As he stepped back, Simon pulled a small tablet computer out of his pocket, cleared his throat, and said, “Mason told me that you want color. He wants to convey an air of excitement and energy to potential clients.”

  I glanced at Mason and then back at Simon. “That sounds good. The color scheme is a little dull here. That’s what we inherited.”

  Mason backed toward the door and then interrupted. “My phone just buzzed in my pocket. I think I’d better take the call. I’ll be back in a few minutes, but I’m sure the two of you can handle matters without me.”

  Before I could protest, Mason shut the door behind him, and I was left alone with Simon. I cringed when the first thought that came to mind was the time Simon fucked me while I leaned over the surface of my desk at 2:00 a.m. one crazy weekend.

  When I came, and my body was still shuddering from the impact, Simon grinned from ear to ear. “Cross that one off the bucket list.”

  The best word I could use to describe the sensation of having a professional conversation in the office with someone I’d slept with for three years was “odd.” I didn’t know if Simon felt as strange as I did, but that was my best guess. He was quieter than usual.

  Simon said, “I think someone would have thought this looked professional about thirty years ago. It’s possible that it’s not changed much since then. I think your predecessors had a serious lack of imagination.”

  “And you’re going to fix that for us?”

  “I’ll do my best.” I watched Simon swallow hard. The sound of his voice softened, and he asked, “So how are you? The glasses look good on you.”

  I blushed slightly at the compliment. I decided to withhold any comments about his hair. “Thank you. I guess I’m pretty good. It’s nice having Mason here, and I know that he was glad to see you. Oh, before I forget, congratulations on your business. It’s exciting that you’ll be in control. You’ve got the talent to make it work.”

  “Thank you. It’s terrifying.” Our conversation was awkward and stiff, but at least we were talking.

  I wanted to hug Simon and comfort him, but I didn’t know what would happen next, or even what I wanted to have happen. I asked, �
��Are your moms in support of the idea?”

  “They love it.” Simon’s voice sounded so flat. I wondered if I sounded the same. I kept mine that way as a hedge against letting the real emotion flood out all over the place and drown both of us. He changed the subject and asked, “Are you going to Ally’s annual party?”

  “Wasn’t that in May?”

  “She changed it this year. Her mom was sick, and she thought she might have to cancel it altogether. Fortunately, her mom is doing a lot better. Now Ally’s having the big costume party in July. It’s like a midsummer Halloween.”

  I tried to focus on the conversation and not think too hard about when I first met Simon at one of Ally’s parties. I’d still never seen a better cowboy, not even after almost two years of dancing at Sagebrush.

  “I guess I didn’t think about it since I assumed they canceled it.”

  “I’d like it if you’d consider going.”

  “You would?”

  “Of course.”

  I didn’t know what else to say. It was the first time I’d heard Simon say that he wanted to see me anywhere in more than a year and a half. I almost blurted out the stupid question, “Why?” Fortunately, I managed to choke that word back and instead, I said, “I’ll be there. I don’t know whether I got an invitation. It might be buried in my email. Are you sure that’s okay with Ally?”

  “She’ll be happy to see you.”

  The door to the office opened, and Mason stepped back inside. He asked, “Do you have all the design sorted out? Was I gone long enough to miss the hard decisions?”

  Simon bit his lip. “I think we’re on the way to getting one thing sorted out, and we’re working on the design. Is that progress?”

  I barely heard Simon’s comment about the one thing. My heart was doing flip flops in my chest. Simon opened the door a tiny crack to let my big foot slip back inside. I didn’t need to know the specifics of what would happen next. I was happy enough to know that I would see him again in my social life. He wasn’t gone forever. That was enough for me for the moment.