“CLARA, go ahead and send Frankie the contract on the first book of her Animal Magnetism series. I loved the first one, and the synopsis for the next one sounds hot as hell.” He knew he’d have to rename the series to avoid competitive overlap with other series, but that was small. The book was killer and he wanted it.
Clara’s laugh bubbled from the car’s Bluetooth system. “Really? How hot was it?”
“Read it yourself, dirty girl,” he shot back, laughing roughly at her cajoling.
“You know I will. What about the one Steven said to give a once-over?”
“I need to reprint a few pages.” He wasn’t going to admit he’d accidently spilled his dinner on it. Belatedly, he could actually get with modern times and buy an e-reader. He didn’t see that happening any time soon. Some habits were hard to break when it came to reading submissions. He liked the loose pages.
“Okay.”
“I’m going to stop for a coffee. Want anything?” he offered his assistant and secretary. She was also one of the toughest editors in the biz, but like many, wore more than one hat.
“I’m good, thanks though.”
“Okay. See you in about an hour.” He clicked off the call and sought a parking spot outside his favorite stop. It wasn’t an everyday detour, but when he needed a boost, this was the go-to place.
The smell of rich Arabica beans and all things coffee hit him as soon as he stepped out of his Chrysler Crossfire. Opening the shop door, he took a sweeping glance, spotting a few open booths and seats. He also realized he was subconsciously looking for Devyn. It was the scent, the bittersweet memory that always followed Dev like a cloud of sugar and coffee. The man had been addicted to those jelly beans, the flavor rather than the caffeine in actual coffee. Tony released a harsh breath and the door at the same time and let the glass swing shut to step up to the line. Some habits die a hard death. And so do some loved ones.
“Welcome to the Mocha Exchange. What can I get for you?”
Tony took a second look at the young man in front of him, a whip of surprised recognition making him feel lighter. “Brandon?” He’d know those eyes—not to mention the brow piercing—anywhere, now that he’d seen him.
“Mr. Teagan,” he replied with dawning realization and a widening of those same eyes. “Morning.” He smiled warmly, his hand patiently hovering over the register.
Tony gazed at him for a moment, then leaned closer over the counter. “How many jobs do you work?” he asked quietly, in case there was an issue with that in his current position.
His expression went quizzical, confused even. “Just the two. I have classes in the early afternoon.”
“Good mercy,” he said, shaking his head. “Just. And school?”
“It’s not a big deal.” The smile returned along with a light shrug. “What would you like this morning?”
Somehow, Tony wasn’t quite buying it. The young man had shadows under his eyes. He didn’t look dead on his feet, but he wasn’t far from it. Something about him tugged at Tony, something he personally knew and recognized in the young man. “Large frap with soy.”
“You got it. Anything else?” Brandon wrote his request down on the cup with a marker.
Brazenly, Tony almost said your number, but whether it was shock at feeling a desire to help this kid, his currently being on the job, or the fact that people now stood behind him, he couldn’t make himself do it. “No, but thank you.”
Brandon smiled and gave him the receipt to his credit card. Tony was slow to move away, wishing he could see that smile one more time, and not entirely sure he understood the want at all.
BRANDON followed him as he turned away, his heart pounding into his ribs. Holy hell, is that man screaming hot! He wallowed in the flash of lust for a few heartbeats, enjoying the breadth of Mr. Teagan’s shoulders beneath his suit jacket and the strong features of his jaw and chin. Brandon was positive he was someone important. Who the heck wore suits anymore? The man could have been a stand-in for one of the cable drama shows. The mystery only added to Brandon’s fascination with him. Brandon wasn’t even sure if the guy was gay but could imagine he was and then could imagine far, far more.
The hard plunk on the counter of a purse ripped his focus from those shoulders to the woman currently snapping gum in front of him as she gawked at the board behind Brandon’s shoulder.
Sadly, Brandon didn’t get to see Mr. Teagan retrieve his order or notice when he left. He thought he’d glimpsed him once sitting at a lone table, his phone to his ear, but he could have been imagining it. The Exchange was a hopping place early in the mornings. Coincidence aside, Brandon hoped he got to bump into him again. He was worth looking at.
The rest of the morning seemed to drag for Brandon as he finished his early shift at the coffee shop. He grabbed a quick bite at a local taco hut, then drove to the college for his first class. He’d started his first year thinking he’d major in finance, or maybe business management, but when his parents dropped their support, he’d had to cut back on his classes. It was slowing him down, but he wasn’t dead in the water. He’d get to where he wanted to be. It was just taking a little longer than he’d originally hoped.
Between classes and homework, the afternoon whirled by, and before Brandon knew it, he was back at the Thai Noodle Bowl. Being at work, remembering the night before and the fortuitous crossing of paths that morning had Brandon thinking about Mr. Teagan most of the evening. He seemed to be losing himself regularly in those dark eyes or craving the feeling of strong arms. He wondered what the guy tasted like and if he was a strong kisser. Some things melted Brandon. Kisses were one of them. Even if he didn’t know, he could imagine a lot, and with all the distractions, his evening was passing quickly.
“Brandon!” Mikahl’s call pulled him out of his ruminating. “Delivery.”
“Where to?” He eased up to the counter, watching as Mikahl bagged it up and printed the run receipt.
“Lucas Street. Special request.”
Brandon’s heart tripped and his eyes widened. “Special request?” Has that even happened before?
“Seems to be.” Mikahl frowned when he noted the address. “Mr. Teagan again?”
When Mikahl looked down at Brandon sharply, he shrugged. What was he supposed to say? He had positively no answer.
“I better not get a complaint, Brandon,” he warned with a sharp tone.
“No sir!” he was quick to say. “He was just surprised, I think, to not see Rodney.”
Mikahl put a hand on his hip. “Okay. Watch yourself out there,” he added, then shooed Brandon out of the delivery pit.
Brandon was almost speeding to get to Lucas Street. His heart was pounding, unsure why Mr. Teagan had requested him and whether or not it was going to get him into deep shit at work. He hoped not, but honestly, what could he do about a request?
“Show up and not be late,” he muttered to no one as he slowed at the curb in front of that amazing house.
He hopped out of the car and then grabbed the container. It seemed doubly heavy tonight. He swiped a hand down his jeans before ringing the bell.
The door swung open and Mr. Teagan stared at him, a genuine smile rising on his lips. “Brandon. Was hoping they’d send you.”
He mechanically began to unload the food. “Can I ask why?” He looked at the receipt. “Twenty-three seventeen, by the way.”
Once again, two twenties appeared. He hesitated in grasping them. “You’re positive, Mr. Teagan? I don’t want to—”
“It’s Tony, and yes, I’m positive. Come in a minute, could you?”
That startled Brandon. He palmed the money and stuffed it into a pocket, then bundled up the carrier to tuck under his arm. Cautiously, he took a step inside and Mr. Teagan—Tony—closed the door. “I won’t keep you, but there’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Uh…. O-okay.” He nearly twitched on the balls of his feet. This was so unusual.
“Ralph? He’s here.”
A flamboyant blond bounced into the room. “He’s darling! Where did you find him?” The guy almost glowed with happiness as he oohed and aahed in gushed appreciation of some sort, taking in Brandon from a variety of angles.
Brandon took a hesitant step back, his focus whipping between the psychotic sunbeam and Tony.
“Down, Ralph,” he drawled with teasing humor. “I take it you think he’ll work.”
“Amazingly!”
“Work?” Brandon managed. He was quickly contemplating an escape and guesstimating how fast he would have to run to reach his car.
“Can I see his stomach?”
“Say what?” Brandon reached for the doorknob. “You guys are nuts.” Rodney could keep the loonies!
“Oh dear!” Ralph moued his lips in disappointment.
“Wait, Brandon.” Tony put a hand on Ralph’s shoulder. “Living room. Go.” He pushed the food containers into Ralph’s hands before he could avoid them.
“Fine.” He continued to pout, then flounced away. “I still want to see his abs before I say yes!” came the trilled call as he vanished.
“Excuse him. He was excited to see you after I described you to him.”
“For what?”
This time Tony handed him a card with outstretched fingers. “Go to the address on the card tomorrow when you can spare a few minutes. I’d like to have you do some cover modeling for my publishing house.”
Brandon’s rising hand stuttered to a stop as his mouth fell open. “What?”
“I can explain more tomorrow. Promise. I don’t want to take up your shift. And before you worry that it’s a porno offer, Google me. I have nothing to hide.” He smiled kindly at Brandon.
“You’re serious?” He clutched the card, staring at Tony like he’d just turned all shades of purple.
“Completely. I have a line of books that I just signed contracts for today, and you, my young man, fit one of the characters nearly to a T. It’s rare to have a model as a mirror image on a book to one of the characters. Especially to either have him exclusively or as a first edition.” Tony neared the door and Brandon skittered back.
“You’re serious?” he repeated, feeling more and more overwhelmed, not to mention utterly confused.
“Think about it. I’ll be in all day tomorrow.” When he opened the door for Brandon, he said encouragingly “At least think about it. It will pay better than both your jobs combined and won’t kill you in the process.”
“But… a model?” He was so completely lost.
“Tomorrow, Brandon.”
“Okay,” he replied, distracted and unable to form a coherent thought. “Sure. I’ll have time.”
“Good.” He urged Brandon through the door, though gently. “You better go back. I don’t want you to lose this job before you decide if mine is what you want.”
Brandon blinked several times. “Right. Thank you, Mr. Teagan.”
“You’re very welcome, and I’m just Tony. Be careful.”
TONY waited until Brandon was in his car and gone before he completely shut the door. He entered the living room to find Ralph almost diving headfirst into his noodles. “Well?”
“Oh my goddess, these are amazing! Why haven’t we had these before?”
“Because they don’t deliver as far as downtown, but I was wondering more what you think of Brandon.”
“Oh! He’s adorable!” Ralph dabbed at his mouth with the napkin, then set it beside the lid of his takeout container. “With those eyes and that face, he’s going to be in demand in no time.”
“Treat him gently, Ralph. He’s been overworked for quite a while from what I can tell.”
“Have you been snooping?” Ralph raised bright green eyes and impaled Tony. “He’s barely a boy.”
“I think he just looks young, another advantage.” Tony studiously opened his own food container. Thai two nights in a row was rare, though he did enjoy their food.
“How old do you think he is?”
“Twenty-five, as a guess. I saw him this morning.” He didn’t mention all the time he’d sat in the corner that morning and stared at the young man as he’d worked. It didn’t seem as though Brandon was aware of Tony's curiosity either.
Ralph peered at him through golden lashes, slurping a noodle delicately. “The brow piercing….”
“They come out,” he admonished. “And I don’t care that he has it. He might have more.” Even saying it sent a curious whip of energy along his spine. Why did the idea of finding out if Brandon did have more than the one seem so intriguing? He took a bite of chicken from his own container before saying anything random. There was no doubt. Brandon had struck a curious chord with Tony.
“He will look wonderful on Frankie’s covers.”
Tony swallowed his food, glad he was forced to take time before answering. “I thought so too. He’s an incarnated Jeremy.” Not to mention so many others. Brandon was shorter, about five nine or so, but height was irrelevant. Photoshop was an artist’s playground. Adding the young man to the list of men and women they already employed or contracted through various agencies wouldn’t hurt them in the least.
“He is darling,” Ralph reiterated.
Tony nodded in agreement, hoping he was doing the right thing for the young man. The same kind of favor a beloved man had once done for him; helped pull him to his feet to stand tall and to thrive.
It just so happened, Tony had fallen head over heels for the older Devyn. Something he’d never expected to happen. From the exuberant personality in the lithe body who showed him stereotypes were for the birds to the down-to-earth mentality which let Tony’s dreams flourish under hard work, Devyn had been his rock. Always steady when Tony was troubled. No matter how much he’d adored Devyn, he couldn’t save him when his life was cut short by a heart attack no one had anticipated at his age. He might have been a lover for Tony, but in life he was a fighter, and he’d given everything to see Tony succeed.
Even after his death, he’d made sure Tony would be cared for. Tony had loved Devyn and cared for him as a loving partner would, but Devyn had taught Tony even more.
That not every dream was fulfilled, and we should cherish the ones that were.
He wanted to give Brandon a chance at one of those dreams. He didn’t know why it felt important, but from the second he’d held that door the night before, Tony’s curiosity had circled around the young man endlessly. Finding him again that morning was a swift kick of coincidence he wasn’t going to ignore.
He’d been on the phone with Ralph as soon as he could reach his photographer.
Glancing at his friend, he was glad now he’d taken the chance to help improve Brandon’s future. Paying it forward. Devyn’s motto.
Taking another bite, he smiled. You did good, Dev. You taught me well.