Geekspeak: Spoofing

Definition: When a person or program hides or fakes their identity to gain unauthorized access to another’s information.

When his mom called him as he’d been about to leave the Pettygrove house yesterday, gushing about her afternoon with Gideon, Alex wasn’t sure whether he was about to burst from pride or wither away from jealousy. That Gideon, despite all his talk about being a selfish SOB, had reached out to Ruth and given her a goddamn break, something neither he nor Lin could give her? Fucking awesome.

Yet he was enough of a bastard that he’d wished Gideon had spared a couple of those hours for him—but Alex hadn’t gotten so much as a phone call or a text in the last twenty-four. The clock was ticking on their time together, considering it was only fair to count the gumbo-with-sex-chaser as their second date. Only one more before I’ve got no excuse to see him outside of work.

Then what? Damn it, I should have held out and stuck with the original abstinence plan and kept him guessing. That was my only ace in the hole. Maybe the continued dead air between them was a sign.

Sure, Gideon had been on board with the sex—even enthusiastic eventually—why wouldn’t he be? That was how all his hookups played out: Sex, then boom. Hit the road, Jack. Gideon had already confessed he didn’t see Alex as someone who fit in his world, so why would he break his tried-and-true pattern? That high-end asshole Jared Haynes was still on the horizon too. How the hell could Alex compete with him?

If Alex wasn’t so shit-scared of getting turned down flat, he could come right out and say he wanted more. But Gideon was all about the shiny. He had talent, education, ambition—while Alex was the blue-collar guy who lived with his parents in the same room he grew up in.

Sure, he had a good reason, but that reason was another drawback. How long could Gideon put up with a family that had to deal with his own self-professed personal nightmare?

Alex parked his car at the jobsite, still scowling, but before he reached the elevator, his phone rang. The caller ID set his pulse racing. Gideon.

“Hey. How you doing? Mom said she had a great time with you yesterday. I’m jealous.” D’oh. Way to be subtle.

Gideon laughed. “You can take her out whenever you want. Don’t be selfish.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” His voice was a suggestive purr that went straight to Alex’s dick, but then he went on in a completely different tone. “You’re not at work yet, are you?”

“In the garage. About to head upstairs.”

“Meet me in Starbucks in the lobby? We need to talk.”

Shit. When was that ever a good thing? “Uh . . .”

Gideon laughed again. “I didn’t mean to sound so ominous, but I have an idea that I need your opinion on. There’s coffee in it for you.”

“Can’t say no to that. Be right there.”

When he walked into the Starbucks, he immediately zeroed in on Gideon, who was sitting at a table with two giant cups in front him, and wearing a tentative smile. Gideon was never tentative. Freaked out, sometimes. Occasionally pissed. But whatever his mood, he was in it one hundred percent.

Alex found the uncertainty unexpectedly arousing. Still touchable. Yeah. Let’s work it. He tilted Gideon’s chin up with one finger and leaned in for a kiss. Not some lame-ass peck. Not X-rated either, because that shit was private, but he slanted his lips over Gideon’s, capturing his gasp of surprise, and chasing it back with a little tongue action.

When Alex broke the kiss and dropped into his chair, Gideon blinked at him like he had in the ER, then broke into a stellar smile that melted Alex’s insides.

“Well. Hello to you too.” Gideon licked his lips, and Alex wanted to dive in for another round but sipped his coffee instead.

“Hey. Thanks for the java.”

“No problem.”

“So.” Alex waited for Gideon to get to the point, but he simply sat there, his hands wrapped around the base of his cup, blinking those big, brown eyes behind his glasses. The frames were blue-green tonight, shimmery like the scales of an exotic fish. How many pairs does he have? I’ve never seen him in the same color twice. “What’s up?”

Gideon startled and took a quick gulp of his coffee. “Oh. Right. Um, here’s the thing.” He screwed up his face and opened his mouth, but instead of coming out with it, he took another swig.

The skin at the small of Alex’s back prickled, and his earlier misgivings poked their heads up again. But Gideon had kissed him. He’d been into it, hadn’t he? What the fuck was going on? “A thing?”

“Uh-huh. It’s . . . When I . . .” Gideon clutched his hair with both hands. “Gah! I can’t believe this is so freaking hard to say.”

Alex sat back, ice washing through his veins even though he’d just downed half a cup of nuclear coffee. “You cutting me loose?”

“What? No! God no.” Gideon took a deep breath. “I want to do Th-Th-Thanksgiving. With your family. I mean, for your family.”

Alex frowned while Gideon drummed his fingers against the table. “Really? Lin told me you don’t observe Thanksgiving. Because of what happened with your folks?”

“Yes. And the . . . incident with Mark happened on T-day too, so I’m definitely not a fan. But this isn’t about me, as shocking as that may be. It’s about you and your family. How would you feel about staging a—a festival of food-induced memories, starring all the Henning family traditions, with a little Wallace special sauce on the side?”

Warmth infused his chest. “You’d do that? For us?”

Gideon nodded. “Yes. If you— That is, would it be okay?”

“Hell yeah. My mom hasn’t had the heart to do the whole holiday thing since Dad got sick, though now’s probably not a good time to expect her—”

“No, no, no.” Gideon shook his head. “The idea is that we do all the work—you, me, Lin. Your mom is welcome to hang out with us, naturally, but I want this to be something we can give to her. To her and to your dad too.”

Alex grabbed Gideon’s hands and tugged him out of his chair and into a kiss. “Baby, you are the best.”

Gideon chuckled and pulled back to gaze into Alex’s eyes. “You may not say that when you find out exactly how controlling I can be about a project like this.”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea.” Alex dropped his voice bedroom-low. “I know how to handle it too, wouldn’t you say?” When Gideon flushed, Alex allowed himself a mental high five before easing up on the innuendo. “I say, bring it. I’m with you all the way.”

Gideon kissed Alex’s cheek. “Come on, then. Time to get to work. I am sooo ready to kick this project in its annoying little balls so I can focus on the one that really matters.” He marched out of the Starbucks, holding Alex’s hand, and didn’t stop talking about holiday plans the whole way up to the sixteenth floor.

“Get your mom’s menu. Her recipes. Everything. You and Lin brainstorm your childhood and come up with a scenario. We’ll make a Thanksgiving for your dad that will match his memories exactly. That’s what comforts him, right? Familiarity?”

“Yeah. Most of the time, but sometimes—” Alex grabbed Gideon’s elbow when he nearly rammed into the doorframe, and steered him around the corner into the server room. Jesus, the guy hadn’t taken his eyes off Alex’s face long enough to look where he was going.

“If you think I need to keep out of sight so I don’t freak him out, I’m totally cool with that. I can stage-manage everything from the kitchen.” He was almost skipping now. “We’ll go shopping Wednesday night. Get everything we need. Then on Thursday . . .” His voice died and he stood stock-still in the middle of the server room. The faint odor of linoleum adhesive and paint hung in the air, but the place was spotless, exactly as Alex had asked.

“The . . . wait. This room is done? All of it?” Gideon whirled and stared up at Alex, wide-eyed. “How? God, when?”

Alex shrugged, the awe in Gideon’s voice kindling that postkiss glow again. “Convinced Manny it’d piss off the consultant. The flooring guys were a tougher sell, but I promised them a couple of cases of beer and they were good.”

Gideon revolved slowly, taking in the assembled server racks, the workbench, the electrical gang boxes that Alex had repositioned in a more convenient spot for the equipment.

“I can unpack the blade servers. Install the operating-system images. Configure the LAN. I could have it done before Thanksgiving, easy, except—” He stopped, his gaze riveted on a spot to the left of the door. “A thermostat?” he squeaked. “Is this . . .”

“Yup. Dedicated zone. Programmable from the wall unit or through a software program you can install on the console. You can mmmph—” Gideon’s unexpected, but not unwelcome, kiss stopped Alex’s explanation. Hells, yeah. Bring on the X-rated show, because this kiss was definitely NSFW.

Gideon pulled away, but kept his hands laced behind Alex’s head. “Thank you.” He jumped, wrapping his legs around Alex’s waist, and Alex caught him under the ass and hugged him close. “God. No one has ever . . .” He stared at the tinted windows on the corridor side of the room. “Are those one-way?”

“Uh. No.”

Gideon dropped his legs, and Alex let him slide down to his feet. “You may be out at work, but I’m not sure either one of our careers would survive a live sex show on the jobsite.”

Alex grinned. “Know what else is finished? The storage room.”

One of Gideon’s eyebrows rose above the top of his glasses. “You don’t say.”

“Yup. Walls. Floor. Door. No lock yet, but I think we can improvise. Besides, the rest of the crew won’t clock in for another half hour.”

A sly grin lit Gideon’s face. “Lead on. God, I love construction sites.”

Gideon cha-cha’ed his way into the construction company’s impromptu workroom—handily adjacent to the most awesome storage room in the known universe.

“Mr. Wallace.” Jared’s voice echoed weirdly in the hallway and stopped him mid-cha.

Gideon ran his hands through his hair—as if that would help. God, after sex, his cheeks—the ones on his face, thank you very much—were always as rosy as a pornographic Hummel figurine.

He leaned out of the doorway. “Jared. I mean, Mr. Haynes. Nice to see you.”

“Do you have a moment?”

“Certainly. Step into my parlor.” Gideon stood aside and gestured for Jared to enter. The room was the only spot in the build-out not essentially complete. Come next week, it would be another storage space, but at the moment it was cluttered with construction detritus. “May I offer you a seat on this lovely paint bucket?”

Jared sauntered into the room, hands in the pockets of his Marc Jacobs trousers. “No need. This won’t take but a moment.”

Gideon leaned against the workbench and crossed his arms. He used to know how to appear calm and professional, but he usually wasn’t wearing a tool belt coupled with postsex hair. “Please. Go on.”

“I got your preliminary mock-up for the new website. I’m quite impressed.”

“Thank you.”

“Not the least because you managed to sidestep Harrison.” Jared chuckled, and Gideon joined in, a little breathlessly. Was he about to get smacked again? How devoted to the Luddite was Jared anyway? “I can’t help but wonder, however . . .”

He picked up something off the workbench. With a start, Gideon recognized it as the denim shirt Alex had removed before heading off in his T-shirt to wash away any sex residue. God. Gideon’s stomach tried to duck and cover. It was one thing if he got canned for inappropriate conduct; his gig was only temporary. But Alex had a lot more at stake. He was the breadwinner for his mom and dad now. If he lost his job, what would happen to his family?

“Yes?”

“When you can produce intellectual property of that caliber, why are you wasting time with menial labor? It’s beneath you, surely.”

Shame cascaded down Gideon’s spine like ice water. Before he’d taken this job, before the lessons he’d learned from Alex about his own internal biases, he’d shared that exact opinion. Getting his hands dirty with the construction was something for the hoi polloi, not for the exalted Gideon Wallace, Prince of Presentation.

Now though, he appreciated the worth of the “menial” part of the contract. He may not love it the way he loved web design, but it was necessary and important. Didn’t Jared recognize that? If the Portland Business Journal was to be believed, Jared Haynes was a tech wunderkind the likes of a young Steve Jobs or Bill Gates. But if he didn’t value hardware and infrastructure as well as software and web sizzle, Gideon had serious doubts about those claims.

For that matter, Jared’s comments made it seem as if he was unaware that the website design was the carrot at the end of the build-out stick. Were the Luddite and the Clueless Consultant running his damn business for him?

Gideon cleared his throat. “I feel it’s important to know the project from the ground up. It’s the only way to be sure the entire system is up to my standards.”

“Ah. Precisely.” Jared’s expression was owlish. “I know exactly what you mean. I like knowing everything about every aspect of my company.”

Do you, now, you pretentious prick? “Naturally.”

“Are those the only clothes you have with you?”

Gideon blinked, and managed—barely—not to check his fly to see if it was open. “Uh . . .”

“I mean, do you have business clothes with you?”

“I try to limit their exposure to wet paint.”

Jared chuckled, a poor lightweight tenor compared to Alex’s bone-shivering bass. “The way I see it, we have a lot to discuss. I believe you have a great deal to offer, and I’d like to make sure you’re offering it to Haynes Industries. With compensation commensurate with your talent, of course.”

“Oh. Well, I—”

“I’d ask you to join me for a drink downstairs right now, but the retro-kink work clothes don’t quite fit the dress code. Let’s say on Monday after the holiday. Eight o’clock. Wear something to match the venue.”

Wait a minute. Was Jared offering him a job, and the financial security that came with it, on one hand, while insulting him—and by extension, Alex and the rest of the crew who’d done Gideon a solid—on the other?

He strolled out before Gideon could force a response. What the effing eff? Gideon plopped down on the paint bucket and threaded his hands through his hair, attempting to deal with the emotional whiplash.

Jared had hinted at a position with his upscale company, with salary, perks, and bennies to match. Isn’t that what Gideon had always wanted? He shivered through another icy shower of shame, because he wasn’t entirely sure what his answer would have been if Jared had waited for him to gather his scattered wits. He’d recognized Jared as a bird of his own feather the first time they’d met, and damn it, a part of him still wanted to be a member of that flock.

At the sound of Haynes’s snooty voice, Alex had ducked into a partially finished conference room. Pretending to tidy a few scattered tools, he dawdled near the door and tried not to breathe too loudly, so he could hear what Haynes and Gideon were saying.

When he heard that back-assed offer, his fist tightened around the wrecking bar in his hand. He had faith in Gideon—up to a point. Gideon had a good heart, but this wasn’t his world and never had been. Haynes had offered him exactly the spot he deserved, and from the sound of it, the spot might be up close and personal with the CEO.

Only last week, Alex had accused Gideon of mooning over Haynes. Now it seemed like Haynes had been doing some ogling of his own, and he’d just thrown Gideon an opportunity to hook up with a guy who was closer to his league than Alex would ever be. Alex edged out into the hallway until he could see a slice of the workroom reflected in the tinted server room windows. Haynes stood, relaxed, as if he couldn’t imagine anyone saying no to him. Why should he? Probably nobody ever had.

The AC kicked on, and Alex shifted from under the vent, straining to hear over the hum. But the toe of his work boot collided with a paint bucket, and the clatter drowned out the conversation.

Haynes sauntered from the room, a self-satisfied smirk on this face, the fucker, and passed Alex as if he didn’t exist. Pausing at the end of the plastic carpet-runner, he glanced at the blue cloth balled in his hand. He tossed it to the ground and wiped his feet on it before he stepped onto the carpet on his way to the elevator.

Asshole doesn’t give a shit who has to pick up after him. Alex waited until the muted voice of the automated elevator PA system announced the lobby destination, and retrieved the crumpled fabric.

His shirt. The bastard had wiped his feet on Alex’s shirt.

Alex laughed, a staccato bark that bounced off the walls. Just fucking perfect.

“Alex?” Gideon walked up behind him, his footsteps rustling on the plastic. Would he mention Haynes? Tell Alex about the offer? Say he’d turned it down?

“Yeah?”

Gideon blinked at Alex’s harsh tone. “Um . . . when the guys get in, I’d like to thank them. You think that’ll fly, or—”

“Sure. Why not?”

Gideon leaned closer, but the service elevator pinged and Manny and Cal got off. “Oops. We’ll talk later.”

“Okay.” Maybe he’d mention Haynes then, but Alex wasn’t holding his breath.