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  Travis looked suddenly sad and Darrell opened his mouth to ask Travis about his family, wondering if that was too much prying, when the waitress came by and handed Travis the check, slipping away after saying, “See you next time, Señor Travis.”

  Travis plopped down money and slid from the booth. “I’m sure you’re anxious to get home in this bad weather.”

  Darrell followed Travis to his car, trying to keep his gaze from straying to the man’s tight ass. He wasn’t terribly successful either. Travis might as well be wearing a sign that said, “Look at my great ass.”

  “Hey, do you want me to pick you up in the morning?” Travis asked as he unlocked his car.

  Darrell shook his head. “I appreciate that, but I can make other arrangements. Thanks for the offer, and dinner, too.”

  “No problem.” Travis frowned. “If you’re sure.”

  Darrell figured he’d already imposed on him enough already. ”Definitely. I’ll get one of my neighbors to drop me off. And then I’ll get a garage out to look at my car.”

  Travis smiled and pulled out of the restaurant parking lot.

  Darrell remembered to program his address in Travis’s Garmin. It distracted him momentarily from the erection pressing against his dress slacks. He shifted in the passenger seat, turning slightly so Travis couldn’t tell he was sporting a woody. Or he hoped so anyway. He prayed the drive to his condo would be quick.

  Chapter 3

  Travis pressed the button on the opener and drove his boring Honda sedan into the garage. He could afford a luxury car, but this one was serviceable. So why get a new car before he needed it? Truth was, he’d never been one of those guys into hot cars and hotter women.

  He went through the inner door between the garage and his dark, empty house, and flipped on the nearest light. He could hear the patter of rain on his patio. Sometimes the loneliness got to him. Usually he was too busy at work to think about it too much.

  But at times, like tonight, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for himself. He’d hoped Darrell felt a little mutual attraction for him, but it seemed pretty clear to Travis by the end of their night together that the handsome black man was not interested in him. So much for any so-called gaydar.

  It was too bad, too, because he found Darrell, with his light mocha skin and muscular build, very appealing. The man had pretty dark eyes behind which lurked a kind, gentle soul. Or Travis imagined so anyway. Darrell was only about an inch shorter than his own six foot two. Oh, he was still sure Darrell shared his sexual orientation. But apparently the flicker of interest he thought he’d seen in Darrell’s chocolate eyes had been his imagination. Wouldn’t be the first time.

  It seemed, though, he was more out of practice than he had guessed. He shrugged out of his suit coat, pulled off his silk tie, and left them lying on the top of the couch. He went into the kitchen, grabbed himself a beer, and then went back to sit on the couch to watch some mindless television. Most of what he did was fairly mindless these days.

  Today was his thirty-fifth birthday and no one had even acknowledged it. His answering machine did not blink with messages and his cell phone remained quiet. Even at work it had been forgotten. His two law partners knew the date at one time. They’d all gone to college and then law school together. Really Mark and Nathan were his only friends now. But they were too busy to remember it, obviously.

  His admin assistant, Barnaby, might have remembered if he’d been at work today. Travis didn’t know.

  Pathetic, really, to be thirty-five with no family or friends to give a shit about you. He’d had a family once, of course. Who didn’t? He’d been eighteen when his parents and older sister were killed in a private plane crash on their way back from Catalina Island. Travis and the pilot had been the only survivors. He’d been left a decent amount of money. Travis had enough to put himself through college and law school without having a student loan.

  Five years ago, he had survived another crash, this one in a car. His boyfriend, Alan, had crashed their car into a tree trunk while drunk, killing himself and Alan’s younger sister. Travis had been in the backseat and had hardly a scratch.

  Having survived two fatal crashes in his life was pretty extraordinary. It reminded him of the Bruce Willis movie, Unbreakable, where Bruce could withstand any crash or injury save for one weakness. He didn’t expect to be that lucky always, though. Maybe it was more like a cat with nine lives and he’d definitely used up two.

  Alan’s family blamed him for the death of their son and daughter. Travis should have stopped him from driving drunk.

  It was true he’d known Alan had a drinking problem, but no one prevented Alan from doing what he wanted to do. The man had been incredibly appealing with his effervescent personality and wit, but he’d also been more stubborn than anyone Travis had ever known.

  Most of their mutual friends blamed him, too. He’d been older and wiser, after all. And, as it happened, those friends had gradually dumped Travis.

  He leaned back against the couch, nudged his shoes off, and set his feet down on the coffee table in front of him.

  Truly, he needed to man up and stop the moaning and groaning. He switched to the online television guide and looked for a sport to watch. He didn’t care which, just something he could grunt to…or whatever sports loving men did.

  The landline phone chirped to life and he considered letting it go. Probably a sales person. Funny how being on the Do Not Call list got him more calls than ever. But, his hand swiped up the receiver and held it to his ear.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, Happy Birthday,” his law partner, Nathan, said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Sorry I forgot until just now. I’ve been swamped with that Nelson case. Want to meet for a drink or something?”

  “No, thanks for the offer, though. I’m having a beer. Don’t really want to drink and drive.”

  “Yeah, I can understand that. Did Mark call you?”

  “No, you’re the first.” And only. But he didn’t add that. Not only was it obvious, but it sounded pathetic.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sure he just got busy. I’ll call—”

  “No,” Travis quickly interrupted. “Don’t. I don’t need a pity call. If he remembers, he’ll call on his own.”

  Nathan sighed. “Okay. I’m sorry. Maybe we can have dinner on the weekend. My treat.”

  “Sure.”

  “What did you do tonight?”

  Travis thought of his sort of date with Darrell. “I had dinner and then came home.”

  “Alone?”

  “No and yes. Dinner wasn’t alone and home was.”

  “Struck out?” Nathan sounded amused.

  “Yeah, pretty much. He just wasn’t that in to me.”

  “I can’t imagine someone not being in to you, Travis. Gorgeous, well off, kind. You’re every gay man’s dream.”

  Travis laughed. “Right. If that’s the case, how come you and I have never hooked up?”

  “Well…we’ve always been just friends, you know that. Just like brothers.”

  He set his beer down and ran a hand over his face. “I know. I was teasing.”

  “What are you doing now?”

  Travis stared at the television. “Watching sports.”

  This announcement was greeted with several seconds of silence and then, “What?”

  “Sports. Um, Ultimate Fighting or something on the Macho Channel.”

  Nathan laughed. “You mean Spike?”

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s the one. Two guys are squeezing each other. Looks kind of kinky if you ask me.” Travis shrugged.

  “All right. Well, I’ll let you go. I have some legal briefs I need to go over tonight anyway. I’ll catch you tomorrow. Happy birthday.”

  “Thanks, bye.”

  For a moment Travis smiled, thinking of his painfully shy friend. Behind Nathan’s thick glasses and bashful smiles lurked a guy anyone would be lucky to have. But Nathan froze up if he had to speak to a man he
found even remotely attractive. He knew it sometimes gave prospective dates the idea he was cold and uninterested. He and Mark had tried unsuccessfully over the years to bring Nathan out of his turtle shell.

  And now, he was once again aware he was alone in his semi-dark lonely house. He was starting to consider the horrors of a dating service.

  * * * *

  Travis, sitting behind his desk the next morning, handed the bills as well as the promotion letter to Barnaby Lassiter, his young admin assistant. Barnaby had been standing next to his desk for several minutes, fidgeting. He doubted the younger man knew how to stand still.

  Barnaby shifted from one foot to the other and back again and then popped his gum. “Is that it?”

  Travis looked up, noticing for the first time the plum blush Barnaby had splashed across his normally pale white cheeks and the matching plum lip gloss lining his lips. And then, of course, there was the eyeliner. He blinked. The dyed blond hair looked freshly done and a new salon style to it.

  He cleared his throat. “Weren’t you sick yesterday?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Travis gestured to Barnaby’s hair.

  “Just cause I’m sick doesn’t mean I don’t need to look good, boss man.”

  “Right.” Travis nodded. It was a good thing Barnaby was damn good at his job. He handed the last document to his admin. “The first stack goes to Darrell and the last one to Mary.”

  There was a short knock on the door and then it opened to reveal Nathan. He carried a file in his right hand and a white paper sack in the other. Nathan’s thick glasses had slipped down his long nose. After he pushed them up, his gaze briefly rested on Barnaby, before sliding away. He cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “You’re not. We’re finished.” He waved Barnaby away.

  The blond sauntered over to the door to his office where Nathan still stood lingering in the doorway. “Good morning, Mr. Llewellyn.”

  Eyes downcast, Nathan mumbled, “Morning.”

  Barnaby disappeared beyond the door and to Travis’s surprise, Nathan stuck his head around the corner to peer outside the office in the direction the young admin had gone.

  “Something you want to tell me?”

  Nathan walked in and closed the door, his face red. “What?”

  “Have you got the hots for Barnaby?”

  “What? No? Barnaby? No way. He’s so…so—”

  “Cute?” Travis supplied neutrally.

  “Yes. No. Sort of.” Nathan shrugged. “He’s not my type. Here, I brought you a bagel and cream cheese to make up for forgetting your birthday.” He thrust the bag at Travis and sat in the chair in front of the desk.

  Travis had to admit that his admin assistant was hot, but he reminded him of Alan. He had adored Alan, but the last thing he wanted was another boyfriend like Alan. Never mind the secretary aspect. “So, you’ve no interest in him at all?”

  “God, no. Never.” The redness in his cheeks had deepened. He held up the file he’d brought with him. “I wanted to ask your opinion about the Peck case.”

  * * * *

  Darrell didn’t even have to turn around to know who was standing behind his chair, even before the dramatic sigh announced his arrival. He could smell Barnaby several feet away. Or rather Barnaby’s expensive cologne.

  He turned to face Travis’s assistant. Barnaby flashed him a smile he was sure had been used on many a sucker. “Good morning.”

  “Hi there.” Barnaby leaned on the cubicle wall. “I was told to give you these.” He handed a thick stack of papers to Darrell. “And also this.”

  Darrell took the plain envelope from Barnaby. His name was neatly scrolled on it.

  “Congratulations, D. The promotion is well deserved.”

  “Thank you.” He stared at Barnaby when he noticed the man wasn’t leaving. “Anything else?”

  “I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch with me today.”

  “Lunch? Well, I…that’s probably not a good idea.” Darrell fidgeted with his letter. He didn’t want to hurt Barnaby’s feeling or anything, but he really didn’t see anything between them.

  Barnaby rolled his eyes. “It’s just lunch, D. With a co-worker. We’re not going to have an afternoon delight or anything.” He gestured to the letter. “And since you’re rich and all, you can buy.”

  “Me?”

  “Yep.” Barnaby glanced at his watch. “I’ll come by your desk at eleven-thirty. Don’t worry, I know your car’s in the shop so I’ll drive us.”

  Chapter 4

  Darrell wanted to kiss the ground when they finally arrived at the restaurant Barnaby had driven them to. The man was a maniac, pure and simple. His little Volkswagen Beetle weaved in and out of street traffic at alarming speeds, braking unexpectedly or sometimes not at all. As he opened the passenger door, he felt distinctly ill. Thankfully, the restaurant, a deli, had only been a few blocks from the office.

  “It’s a wonder you’re still alive,” he said primly.

  “What?” Barnaby gave him a blank look and shrugged.

  As Darrell followed the flamboyant man inside, he had to wonder what the hell he had agreed to. Sometimes being nice was not a plus.

  After they’d been seated at a plastic booth and given their drinks of iced tea for him and coffee for Barnaby, Darrell eyed the menu suspiciously. He wondered how clean this place was. He glanced around looking for bugs.

  “Have you eaten here before?”

  “Oh sure.”

  Pursing his lips, Darrell studied his choices. “How’s the patty melt?”

  “I’m a veggie.”

  Darrell stared at him. “What?”

  Barnaby waved his hand. “You know, a vegetarian. I always get a salad. I’m sure it’s fine though. I’ve been here with a few dates before and it looks all greasy.”

  Darrell winced and looked across to the other side of the menu where it stated breakfast was served all day.

  When the harried looking waitress came back, Darrell ordered the one-egg breakfast, scrambled, and Barnaby ordered the aforementioned salad.

  “Look, Barnaby,” Darrell said as the waitress walked away, “I appreciate your asking me to lunch, but I have to be upfront with you.”

  “Don’t give yourself a heart attack, man. I know you’re not interested in me.”

  Darrell blinked, feeling more than a little relieved. “You do?”

  “I can’t say your taste is spectacular, but yeah, I got the vibes.” Barnaby grinned and leaned his chin on his hand. “I know who you are interested in though.”

  With a sinking feeling, he sipped his tea. He doubted Barnaby actually knew, but for a moment, he felt a sense of panic. He pushed it aside. “And who would that be?”

  “Travis. My Travis.”

  “Travis? No, I’m not.” Darrell squirmed and looked away. Then his gaze darted right back. “Your Travis?”

  “Relax, I don’t mean literally. But, yeah, I’ve seen you looking.”

  “It’s your imagination,” he mumbled.

  “Sure.”

  “Well, even if I was, he’s not gay.”

  Barnaby choked on his coffee. “Is that a Long Island Iced Tea? D, trust me, Travis is not straight.”

  Confused, Darrell was silent for a moment. A moment where, in spite of his best intentions, a tiny spark of hope leapt into his heart. “But he said you weren’t his type.”

  “Duh. I’m not your type either. Does that make you straight?”

  “Oh.” Darrell nodded, feeling foolish. “I see.”

  “You should ask him out,” Barnaby said just as the waitress plopped his salad in front of him. She likewise put Darrell’s breakfast plate in front of him.

  “Need anything else?” she asked, already moving away without waiting for their answer.

  “Nice,” Barnaby said.

  “He’s my boss,” Darrell pointed out.

  “Yeah, there is that.” Barnaby, who sat on the side of the booth facing the entrance, s
uddenly reached across the table and gripped Darrell’s hands. “Guess who just walked in.”

  Darrell threw out a name. “Tina Turner.”

  “I wish. None other than Anderson and Llewellyn of Anderson, Llewellyn, and Stevens.”

  “Here? Really?” He squelched down an odd sense of panic. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was on his lunch break. He needed to stop feeling like a kid caught ditching class.

  “Hello, Barnaby, Darrell,” Travis spoke up as the pair of lawyers stopped at their table. “Didn’t expect to see you two here.”

  “Same here.” Barnaby indicated the booth. “Why don’t you two join us?”

  “Looks like you already got your food.”

  “They’re fast here. Besides, if you guys join us, we can take extra time. Can’t hardly get in trouble when you’re lunching with the boss, right?” He scooted over.

  “Uh…Barnaby—” The sense of panic returned full force. Somehow knowing Travis was also gay and was about to sit right next to him sent his heart to fluttering and his stomach to sinking.

  “Okay.” Travis nodded and went to sit next to Darrell, just as he suspected.

  “Um, maybe, we should just let them eat and get our own table,” Nathan said quickly. His cheeks were slightly pink.

  “Nah, it’s cool. Come on, Mr. Llewellyn.” Barnaby patted the plastic cushion bench.

  When they were both seated, the hostess thrust menus into their hands.

  “What’s good here?” Travis asked, directing the question to Darrell.

  “This is my first time, actually. Barnaby suggested it.”

  Travis smiled and glanced at Barnaby. “Yeah, he suggested it to me, too.”

  Barnaby looked suspiciously innocent. “What about you, Mr. Llewellyn? Ever been here?”

  His head buried in the menu, Nathan mumbled, “No.”

  The waitress came by, looking even more harried then before. “Is this a separate check?”

  “No,” Travis said smoothly. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “What would you like?”

  “I’ll have what he’s having,” Travis and Nathan spoke at once, but while Travis indicated what Darrell had, Nathan indicated the salad Barnaby ate.