Chapter 5 CHA

"How's it going with Jason?" I inquire about Mara's new beau. I want to meet everybody in this building from the custodians to the people who work at the coffee shop to the information technology staff to the board of trustees. My name is on the building, and my dad and I have a vastly different view of what it is to be a leader.

I would like these people to look forward to working for me in the future, not dread it and jump ship from Ashford & Co. Wealth the moment they get the chance.

"They're great. He took me to a Brave's game this weekend because I told him I never had and always wanted to attend," she smiles. Good fellow, Jason.

The toaster signals, and Mara finishes preparing my bagel before handing it over.

"I'm glad to hear it. You keep him at it, yeah?"

"Thank you, Mr. Ashford. I will."

Catching the elevator back up to my office, my thoughts replay my encounter with River. Wish I wasn't so fucking embarrassed around him, but I've never ever acted on a crush before boarding school, and I'm a little rusty. If only it were as easy as a Brave's game.

Not that it would go anywhere or could go anywhere...it's pretty self-explanatory River's straight. And sure, I know you can't always judge a book by its cover, but there are usually signs. And trust me, I was looking hard for any sign.

The positive side is that him being straight makes him safe territory. Like flirting with your best friend's wife. You know she's off limits and he knows you'd never do it, so it allows you to be a little more open, a little less formal, a little less straitlaced. Except I'm not loose around River. I'm tighter than ever when I'm with him.

Hiding my sexual orientations has been the norm since I figured out I had feelings for guys in eighth grade. Liam Whitmore kissed me one afternoon after fencing practice, and stars exploded behind my eyes. It wasn't like I had much practice kissing either sex at that point, but a year later, when Jenna Wilde kissed me, I felt nothing. No excitement, no thrills, no repetition necessary. Her lips were too yielding, and although she made the initial advance, she seemed to be waiting for me to assert control, and I did not like being put in that position. I exercised enough control in my life during those periods between classes, clubs, and athletics that I surely did not want to have to refer to those either. Even today, I like to be the one following in bed, happy to hand over the reins to someone else.

After meeting with Jenna, I went back to Liam to see if I could still feel anything or if I was completely broken, but those pesky sparks immediately returned as Liam's hard lips met mine for the second time. My hands rose to his chest, and I liked the hard muscle I found there.

I dropped it casually at dinner one night that I was a boyfriend to Liam. Stephen Ashford Sr. told me shortly, and in a furious tone, that homosexuality was not a path I would pursue in life if I wished to remain the heir to his multi-billion-dollar empire. And as always, instead of coming to my defense, my mother, Vivienne Ashford, pretended that the fight was not taking place. As long as her champagne flute was still full, she tried to blend into the walls...still does. It's really pathetic how my parents are so cliché and unimaginative.

Stepping out of the elevator, I sweep my current concerns aside and display my badge before the electronic key reader to gain access to my office as one would to a hotel room. My grandfather purchased this building sixty years ago, and it probably represented the soundest financial decision either he or my father ever made. My current job as investment chief has me in an office on the top floor with three windows of glass that overlook the growing, thriving city below.

I stand by the south window, squinting as if I can see River's shop from here.

I wonder what he is doing.

Steam curling up from my coffee cup fills my nostrils with the bitter smell of the dark liquid, and I find myself thinking River's probably at the shop. Which is where I should be. And to my desk, I return, boot up my computer, and soak up the reassuring noises: the whir of my mini-fridge, air blowing through the vents, floor-to-ceiling blinds rolling down, giving me the seclusion I crave. Even at this elevation, I like to shut the world away so that I can focus.

Although, however much I try to maintain a good concentration level, my thoughts still keep drifting to River. Asking myself how he'd feel if he realized that he was occupying my mind like this?

Who am I kidding? He'd probably be creeped out to heck and possibly even a bit angry.

The thought makes me queasy because, regretfully, I still have to go fetch my wallet.

Having an unlimited credit card lost somewhere isn't a good plan, but I have a whole morning. I also must figure out how not to be creeper than hell before I speak with him again. Though, honestly, there isn't any amount of time that's going to help me with that.

Finally, after two sessions that I thought were never going to be over, I head to the parking deck reinforcing to myself that I was going to let this instant and unrestrained infatuation blow over.

Because it's raining, I'm allowed to drive the Range Rover today. A dry hoot of laughter escapes my throat at the awareness that I chose my car based on the weather. Still dwelling on the fact, I feel a little embarrassed arriving at the parking lot of Moreno Custom Garage thirty-five minutes later, remembering River's words on the day I brought it in. Spoken by someone who can afford to lose an extra hundred grand.

Touché, sir.

Fortunately, there's an empty parking space right in front of the office because the shower has just turned into a torrent. Umbrella-less and ignorant of the weather report, I hop out of the car as fast as I can and run inside. Drenched after only ten feet and three seconds in the rain, I look like a wet dog.

A beautiful woman with dark hair to her waist is standing at the back of the counter. The instant our eyes meet, I know she has to be related to the guy who's been on my mind all morning.

"Wow. You're just like River."

She smiles. "I'm three minutes older. So technically, he's just like me."

Twins.

"Oh, uh, yeah." Nice work, Julian. Don't be creepy this time.

She smiles politely and steers the conversation elsewhere. "Is there something I can help you with? You were doing the Maserati yesterday, right? Sorry, it won't be done anytime soon," she says, playing with the ends of her hair. Not in that oblivious-with-chewing-gum style, but as if she's messing with her hands.

"Sure. I just remembered this morning that I'd forgotten my wallet in the glovebox."

"Let me check and see if River has it in the bay already. If it's up, he'll have to grab it for you. I'll be right back."

She returns a moment later with River in tow. He's wiping his hands on a shop towel, his hat is backwards again, and he's wearing a black tank top and what look like gray Dickies. The sight I'm not yet ready to see hits me squarely in the face. His pecs are pushing against the tank top he has on, and even more of his tattoos are now exposed on his arms and shoulder. My salivary glands are reminding me they're here for the spectacle.and they are not alone.

"Hey, Julian. Come on back," he growls in a lower voice than mine.

Behind him, I walk through the door into the live car bay. There is a car in a lift, two others, including my Maserati, simply parked on the floor in the open space. River moves aside, pointing in the direction of my car. "Take what you need."

"Thanks." I say the word on a whisper of breath as I fight the urge to pull my tongue up his chest, then my hands before they get trapped in his... Christ, man, for crying out loud just take out your fucking wallet already.

Reaching into the car, I hear the music drift through the shop. I recognize the song, but I never appropriate my brother's connection. It's bad enough that my father's connections have already greased each inch of the road that is my life.

But it's horribly tempting.