Fascination Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 8

  “How’s the baby? Have you named her yet?” I bent down and placed my ear to her belly, but I stood up quickly. “She kicked me.”

  “Babies tend to do that when they’re ready to come out. Or maybe she recognized her father.”

  “I said before, Lindsey, I don’t want her to know that I’m her father. I owe that to Carter. I just donated the sperm. Carter was the one who went through the pregnancy with you. He was the one getting up all times of the night to get you tons of crazy food, and complaining that he thought he had morning sickness too. I never once felt sick or anything for that matter.”

  “You can’t fool me, Jeremy Westbrook. When Carter called asking you for the extra ice cream you’d stashed away for me, you’d get out of your bed and bring it over, and you didn’t complain. Not once. You don’t owe Carter anything, except a thank you for cooking tonight’s supper,” Lindsey assured me when I handed her the roses. She smiled, and wobbled off down the hall, leaving me in the dining room.

  I sat at the table looking around at how nice it had been set. She’d made herself a wonderful partner and wife for Carter, and I knew she’d be a wonderful mother to their baby.

  Did I want this with Annalisa? It was a nice thought to have a home instead of a condo. Could I do this to her? If I had to be with a woman, I’d want it to be her, but did I want to wake up and see her in my bed next to me for the rest of my life? I knew the answer to that.

  “What’s the matter, big brother?” Carter said smiling, holding a bowl of hot spaghetti. “Cooked your favorite.” He set the bowl down and went to the kitchen to collect the rest of the meal.

  “Don’t big brother me. You’re just barely a year younger than me, and Jack,” I yelled as he strolled into the kitchen and came out with a large bowl of meat, drowning in wonderful-smelling red sauce.

  “Did I hear you say something about Jack?” I shrugged.

  “Yeah, you did. He came over, but when I returned, he’d gone.” There was a sustained silence between us. Carter shook his head. “Your favorite, Carter. Mine and Jack’s, too. Spaghetti with meat sauce, I mean. I hope you put Italian sausages in it,” I added, leaning over to smell the aroma. How could I tell him that I couldn’t stay long to enjoy this wonderful meal with him? I decided not to tell him.

  “Where’s Lindsey?”

  “I think she went to get a vase for the flowers I brought.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to. I don’t get to spend that much time with the two of you, and you can forget about meeting with Jarrett and Thomas and their wives. They’re too busy climbing the social ladder to ever invite us to any of their fundraisers.”

  “I guess we don’t meet their criteria,” Carter joked.

  “Yeah. I’m not married, and you’re married to Lindsey, who happens to come from the wrong side of town, and who never went to their wives’ high school, or graduated from a prestigious college. I guess state college and being married into the Westbrook family doesn’t rate high enough with them.”

  We sat and talked about our brothers and wives and found time to laugh at the stupidity of it all. “How can our two older brothers be so arrogant and different from us?”

  “You’re a little like them, Jeremy. You don’t know that, but I see it in your dealings with people, and in your business ventures.”

  “But, that’s business. What do you want me to do? I’m trying to build a company with the help of my friend, Maxwell Gold. You know our parents almost lost the company, if it hadn’t been for him investing in it... We still maintain a large share of it, and as soon as the company is healthy, Max says he will pull out, and we can have complete control over it.”

  “That friend of yours, Max Gold, raised a lot of money for the charities to go to the homeless and especially homeless vets. He’s building homes for them now, and to get people off the streets of Seattle. Which I might say you may have contributed to that, and from what I’ve read, you tried your best to help.” Carter smiled at me and that made me feel better about my life.

  “What?”

  “I read today that you auctioned off your time for over a million dollars. They’re calling you the million-dollar man.”

  “Bullshit. It was only one hundred thousand. People exaggerate for all kinds of reasons. Far be it for me to correct them. Why should I fuck up a good story with the truth?” I joked. “Let’s eat.”

  Carter wanted to discuss the auction. He hadn’t been out dancing, or to dinner in nine months and wanted to hear all about the party at Max’s country club. He leaned close to me as if he was afraid that someone would hear him. “Then there’s the gossip about the man who bought you. They say he’s gay.”

  I squirmed in my seat and leaned over, smelling the food, wondering when Lindsey would return and we could change the subject.

  “If we don’t eat, the food will get cold and you know how I feel about microwaving.” I glanced around. “Where’s Lindsey anyway?”

  “I’d better go see if she’s in the bathroom. She usually spends hours there because of the pregnancy. Be right back.”

  I reached and gathered a plate full of spaghetti, and grasped for the ladle to get the meat sauce. I had gotten hungry, and planned on starting without them. It was at that moment I heard Carter scream. It was the sound of his voice that sent chills through me.

  It was as if he was that little boy who saw the car barreling down on him and all he had was time to scream out my name—Jerry. He called me Jerry when he was little.

  “Jerry. Call emergency. Call 911. Tell them to send an ambulance,” he cried, rushing into the dining room and pacing, then turning around in a circle, and rushing back in the direction of his bedroom. I jumped up and ran behind him while dialing the emergency number, not knowing what I’d find, but by the look on his face, the wide eyes, heavy breathing, and sweat dropping from his brow, it was easy to figure out.

  Chapter 9

  Dorian

  I paced around a table in my condo, knocked over a vase with no flowers, wondering what the fuck it was doing there anyway, since I didn’t remember buying it.

  I’d waited hours for Jeremy to call after a shower, shaving, and splashing on my favorite aftershave that I’d gotten compliments from others when they’d come close to me and given me a hug.

  Phillip had complimented me on it a few times. “You smell fucking scrumptious. I could lay you over my desk and suck your cock,” he’d said to me, before the interference and insertion of another man into our lives.

  To which I’d responded, “In your dreams. You’ll never get that opportunity again, and if you think I bought this for you, think again. I promise, you and I will never get that close again in this lifetime.”

  Jeremy had made an arrangement with me. He’d pick me up for our dinner date around seven o’clock, because the traffic would be unmanageable after that. He suggested that I ride with him, because he thought it would be safer if he was the one controlling how long we’d stay at the restaurant, and when or if he’d agree to go dancing afterwards.

  I’d approved the change of arrangements, because I didn’t want to put any pressure on him, but now I was the one waiting around, feeling like a fool.

  I’d marched over to the window twice to see if I could spot his black and white Range Rover. I couldn’t see a fucking thing on the street. It was nerves, and my insecurities sending me to that window more than once in less than a minute.

  Then I began to question myself—was that his intention in the first place, to have me fucked up in the mind, because he stiffed me? Shot me a ghost, as Phillip liked to say when he didn’t show up and had been fucking around on me?

  Had Jeremy shot me a ghost and done a Phillip on me?

  I guessed, when the dinner date was set for eight o’clock and it was now ten, I could safely say he wasn’t coming. I plopped down on one of my couches, in front of my faux fireplace, and then shot up quickly and made myself a vodka tonic—three parts vodka, on
e part tonic, fuck the lime. After drinking half a glass, I was close to being drunk, but I was too angry and upset to be disappointed, so I reached for my phone, and scrolled through to find Jeremy’s number.

  Then I dropped the phone beside me, I’d had second thoughts and didn’t want to appear needy. I picked up my glass of vodka from the table and drank all of it in one gulp.

  “There’s no way in fucking hell that I would give him the satisfaction of thinking I was waiting around for him,” I murmured.

  I didn’t know what to do now, except pass the time away looking at movies, or listening to music. The music would make me depressed, so I decided on an old movie.

  I shut off my phone and stared at it. Then I reached for the remote, and pointed it. “Saw that. Not that. Hell no, there’s no fucking way I’m looking at another Barbara Stanwyck movie tonight. If she wasn’t dead, I’d feel like killing her.

  No. I felt like killing that fucking hot man who’d stood me up. If he thought he was getting out of this, he was wrong. I was going to make him pay for everything. He was the one who didn’t live up to the contract. He hadn’t seen the last of me, and he didn’t know me. I’d march into his office, call him a fucking coward and then tell Phillip that I was not paying for his fucking handsome ass, and I wanted my money back.

  Fuck Phillip and his puppy killer. I could be homeless soon if Phillip continued spending money the way he had since he’d met his boyfriend, and made me pay half while he took money out of our company to support his lifestyle. I grumbled through another vodka and tonic.

  “No. I’ll tell Phillip he’ll have to pony up all the money for the auction, and then I’ll march into Jeremy’s office and tell him to go fuck himself,” I shouted into the living room, loud enough I was sure my neighbors heard me.

  I glanced at the clock one more time. It was already eleven, and when it turned twelve, Cinderella would turn back into sitting around waiting for Prince Charming to call.

  “Hell no,” I snapped.

  I felt vulnerable now, and I needed someone to tell me they loved me, or just to talk to me. I needed to know that someone cared. I knew I hid that from the world, gave friends the impression that I was strong, when in fact it had been the opposite, especially when my parents told me that if I was gay they never wanted to see me again. It wasn’t in keeping with their religious values to have a gay son, they had said to me after I admitted to them that I was dating a man.

  If their religious values were to throw their teenage boy out into the world without a place to live and no way to take care of himself, then where were their real values?

  In my drunken state, I decided I’d had enough of the pity party. “I’m going to see Phillip,” I mumbled, taking another drink, placing the glass down, and then shoving my arms through the sleeves of my leather jacket.

  Reaching for my phone, I had a good reason to check now. I wished I hadn’t, because now I felt worse. Jeremy didn’t have the decency to call me and tell me he wasn’t coming and why.

  After calling an Uber, because I was too drunk to drive, I shut my phone off again because I didn’t want to face the inevitable. As long as the phone stayed off, and I didn’t check it every second for texts, there was always hope and anticipation that there would be a text when I turned it on again.

  My drunken reasoning was if I didn’t look at the phone, miraculously there would be a text message coming in from Jeremy.

  In my state of mind, if he were to text me and I opened it now, I would send him a text saying fuck you, and then I would be back on that merry-go-round that was my life. That was how it had ended with me and Phillip. I couldn’t forgive him after he cheated on me, and when he wanted to renew our relationship, I’d sent him a text. Fuck you.

  I’d learned my lesson and now if Jeremy sent a text saying, ‘Sorry, I got hung up at work,’ or, ‘I couldn’t get rid of Annalisa, let’s make it tomorrow,’ I would feel better, but right now, I was feeling like shit, and the only person that could help me out of this funk was Phillip. I was always there for him and now it was time to call in a favor.

  I stepped out of the Uber at Phillip’s new address. He’d bought another apartment and moved in with his fiancé, and soon-to-be husband. He’d been gracious enough to move out of the apartment we’d bought together—that was after I told him to get lost when I discovered his infidelity, and refused to hear any explanations.

  At first I pretended to leave, but I had no one and nowhere to go to. Phillip must have known, or he was too eager to move in with his animal doctor, so he said that he would leave, which took the financial pressure off of me.

  However, I knew he’d made a mistake and would discover that later. I even told Phillip that I wouldn’t give him a year with his new boyfriend. But I was miserable and I wanted him to be as miserable as he and his doctor had made me. Nevertheless, Phillip and his new man did do me a favor.

  There was no way Phillip and I were compatible. After living with Phillip, he’d make anyone unfaithful. He enjoyed fucking around, and I wanted a stable relationship which I never found after Phillip. I was still looking for that elusive unicorn. I thought I had finally captured him when I came across Jeremy Westbrook.

  Security let me in without a hitch because they knew Phillip had given me a key to the apartment in case of an emergency. I was his partner in our firm, and the firm held the mortgage on that expensive apartment he was fucking in right now—an agreement hashed out between me and Phillip. After looking at the place, I should have paid more attention to the agreement and at least read it instead of signing it to be rid of him, because he’d signed over his half of our apartment to me.

  Now I was looking at Phillip’s ritzy condo. This was one of those new modern buildings I’d always wanted but Mr. Cheap-O said we couldn’t afford it. I didn’t want to guess how much he’d spent on this, I thought, as the elevator climbed to the twenty-sixth floor. Then the elevator door opened up, and there were only two apartments on that floor. Well, this must have cost him a fucking arm, leg, and one of his two balls, or maybe both, I thought, placing my finger on the bell. It had a ring I’d never heard before.

  There was a sound to the bell that spelled expensive.

  No one answered. I wasn’t leaving. I placed my finger on the bell and let it lie there. Although I had the key, I did respect him and his privacy. Finally the door opened and there stood his blond boyfriend, Eric, with his robe on, but untied. The sash hanging to the side and his stiff cock hanging in the open with an impressive set of balls to accompany his dick.

  My eyes were drawn downward, perhaps to compare my cock with his. I couldn’t help

  but stare with my mouth open.

  “What do you want?” Eric snapped, then turning to tie his robe.

  “Why bother?” I questioned. “The horse is out of the barn.”

  “What?” Eric mumbled, then turning to back to face me with a furrowed brow.

  “You heard me,” I growled, pushing past him. Then I heard Phillip’s groan. “Who the

  fuck is it this time of night?”

  “Me. It’s me, Phillip. Dorian.”

  “And he’s drunk, baby,” the tall blond, animal doctor named Eric added.

  “I’m not drunk and get the fuck out of my way, dog killer. I’m not in a good place

  now, and if you know what’s good for you—” I placed my palm on his chest, locked eyes with him, and pushed him aside, then marched into the room where I’d heard the sound of Phillip’s voice coming from. My eyes wandered around.

  “Damn, this is nicer than my place,” I said, my voice sounding envious, because I was, and resentful too.

  My eyes took in every silk rug, every painting, and piece of expensive antique furniture. I thought Phillip would at least have had the decency to get rid of our bed, but he kept it when I told him to take it, because I didn’t want to sleep in it any longer. It reminded me of him. I sauntered over to the spot I’d laid in before our break-up, dropped down on the
mattress, and crossed my legs at the ankles. Then Phillip came out of the restroom, tying the sash of his robe, looking as if he’d been fucking with his hair tousled and unruly. He had a five o’clock shadow.

  I’m glad I’ve disturbed him.

  “What is it, Dorian?” he snapped, standing over me.

  Crossing my arms and looking up at him. “You know that man you sent me over to bid on at that auction at that country club, in the rain I may add—” Phillip interrupted my rant.

  “Yeah, how could I forget? I said fifty thousand and you brought it up to one hundred thousand.”

  I stopped him before he went further. “That’s because your friend’s partner kept bidding on him, and when I arrived at that club, it was already at fifty thousand. How many times do I have to tell you this shit? I knew how important it was for you to get this guy as a client, since he was supposed to pay the money himself. But, you didn’t tell me that he’d pulled out.” I gritted my teeth.

  “I didn’t know that Glisson had decided that it wasn’t good for his image to be selling himself to the highest bidder, even if it was for charity. Glisson said that he would make a private donation and since we—”

  “Not we. Me,” I corrected Phillip. “I’m out of at least fifty thousand. If Glisson pays the fifty thousand then I hope you pay at least twenty five.”

  “I told you I don’t have it.”

  “What about your Viking in the other room? He should have it.”

  “This is between you and me.”

  “Then I’m not paying the money. I’ve read the rules, and Jeremy Westbrook broke the contract. We were supposed to go on a date tonight and he didn’t show up,” I said, breathing hard.

  “You wouldn’t be disturbing me this late if it was just any man, especially the one I sent you to bid on, so why this one? Why are you such a fucking mess over Jeremy Westbrook?”