17. Kale

Christian fell asleep immediately,but I made sure to still quietly close the door behind me as I stepped into my office. The room was one of the smaller ones in my house, but I loved it beyond measure. With an old roll top desk I'd inherited from my great-grandfather, the space felt rich and cozy at the same time. Like many other rooms in the house, it also had a fireplace, but one I rarely used on account of how small the room was.

Sitting down at my desk, I texted Parrish to let him know I'd absconded with his best friend, then immediately called Ford. He answered on the first ring.

"I've been waiting to hear from you," he said in lieu of hello. "What time is it there?"

"Same time as it is where you are. I'm in New York."

"What?" Ford scoffed. "After all that planning and chartering of private planes and you're still in the city?"

"I'm back in the city," I corrected, reclining slightly in my wood and leather office chair. It matched the desk, which felt a little over the top, but I loved it just the same. The way it rolled across the wood floor and how it creaked underneath my weight. The noises were familiar to me, and they all sounded like home.

"Did your prince send you away?" he asked.

"Quite the contrary." I lowered my voice even though there was no way Christian would hear me. "He welcomed me with open arms."

"And open other parts, I'm sure."

"Don't be lewd," I chided, cheeks heating at the memory of just how Christian had welcomed me.

"Since when can't I be lewd?" He placed a teasing emphasis on the last word like it was a pretend dirty word when it never had been before. "You're the king of kiss and tell."

"You have me confused with yourself."

"We're two peas in a pod, Kale," he said, not wrong.

Ford and I were sometimes more similar than my brother and I were. I often wondered if Boston would have been better suited for a life on the farm instead of in the city, but he'd made the same choice as me to come stay with our grandparents. Our mom and dad had always maintained an open door policy. In addition to our visits, if we wanted to come live with them long term, we were always given the chance to make the change. I couldn't conceive of being there for more than a week, more than a weekend, but I could imagine my twin brother longing for the quiet that came with the farm.

Ford, though…Ford was built for a luxurious life with waterfalls of money at his disposal. Like my brother and me, he came from money that had served as a cushion to get him started with his own endeavors. He was arrogant, but not so much so that he believed any of his life to be possible without the handouts he'd been given as a child. After all, Ford was a Carlisle and that name came with as much, if not more, as Sheffield.

"Christian and I are in New York," I said, ignoring the comparison he'd made.

"That….that's probably literal kidnapping, Kale. I thought we were making a joke of the whole thing."

"He came willingly," I said.

"Will the king see it that way?"

I scrubbed a hand down my face, swiveling the chair so I could stare out the window into my back garden. It was mostly concrete and cobblestones with falling leaves across the stretch of it, but in the spring, it was a gorgeous space. With wrought iron tables and chairs beneath the trees and a brick pizza oven I'd never managed to use, the place gave me the same feelings of calm that I got at the farm…with 100% less animal shit.

"Considering Christian's security guard and the son of his main advisor are in on the plan, I think we'll have a little bit of leeway."

I hoped, at least.

"Do I get to meet him properly on this little jaunt of his, or is his visit purely for sex?"

I exhaled into the phone, scrunching my nose.

That was certainly the question of the hour, wasn't it?

"We only talked about coming for dinner," I admitted with a laugh. "He's taking a quick nap first, though."

"Bore him already?"

"More like wore him out," I countered.

Ford let out a hearty laugh. "There's the man I know and love. But you didn't answer my first question."

"He's here for two and a half days," I said, glancing at the clock and counting down the half day. "I'm sure I can find time for you to meet him if that's what you really want to do."

"Of course I want to meet the man who has my best friend ass up over him."

"I'm not ass up," I grumbled.

"Aren't you?" He laughed at me again. "You kidnapped a fucking prince, Kale. That's desperate and heroic all at the same time."

"He's plenty capable of kidnapping himself."

Ford brushed me off. "Dinner tonight, then?"

"As long as you promise to not be embarrassing."

"You don't need my help with that," he said.

"And if Christian hates the idea, I'm canceling on you," I said.

"I'm inviting Brooks."

"What about Alex?"

Our friend group had become a tight foursome—Ford, myself, Brooks, and Alex—but Alex hadn't quite been himself since our missing fifth fled the city for his husband in Los Angeles. Beamer was sorely missed, but it was hard to begrudge him for chasing after his happiness, even if I vehemently disliked his husband. Beamer's secret husband, Dalton, had been a point of contention between us before his move, and I'd definitely made an ass of myself over the whole thing. I'd set it right—enough—before Beamer left, but I probably owed him a little more than I'd offered. I wanted him to be happy, but I hoped he'd be happy with someone who loved New York as much as we did. I hadn't taken losing him well, and neither had Alex. Things between the two of them had been very new and very causal, not even more than one or two hookups as far as I knew. But the connection Alex found with Beamer had kicked something to life inside of him and he was still sort of floundering with how to handle it.

"Alex is sulking," Ford informed me. "You should check on him after your prince goes home."

"We'll all get together," I said. "A trip to The Black Door maybe."

"Probably the last thing he wants, but exactly what he needs." Ford cleared his throat. "Anyway. Dinner?"

"As long as it's okay with Christian."

"I'll text you an address," Ford said before hanging up the phone. Less than a minute later, I had a text message with a reservation confirmation for four at six. I dropped my phone down onto the desk and checked the clock. It was barely three, which meant Christian would have enough time to get a decent nap before I had to haul him up to go re-meet my friends.

It also gave me enough time to catch up on any work from the morning that I'd overlooked, but it was an email from my brother that caught my eye at the top of my inbox.

Kale,

Ran into Stefan and he said he didn't work for you anymore. Do you need another assistant?

- Boston

Hearing my most recently departed assistant's name was enough to sour the high I'd been riding since I tucked Christian into my bed upstairs. It was a firm reminder that while Ford and I were very similar, there was a line, and my line was fucking my friends' employees. Ford, on the other hand, found that to be an aphrodisiac. He most preferred my assistants, which was earning both of us quite a reputation. One he didn't mind, but I didn't want.

Instead of answering his email, I decided to call him. Boston didn't answer, so like the annoying four-minutes older brother I was, I called him a second time.

"What, Kale?" he answered, breathy and exasperated.

"Why did you email me instead of just calling or texting?" I asked.

"I thought of it at my desk and it seemed easier."

"What did Stefan say?"

"That the job was not what he expected." Boston sounded amused, like he could see through the thinly-veiled lie.

"There are some unexpected tasks that come up on occasion. Why do you ask?"

"I wanted to offer my services," he said.

"No!" My answer came so quick and so loud, it startled us both. I fisted my free hand, then turned my cellphone to speaker mode and set it on the desk in front of me.

"You all right?" he asked, a hint of concern in the question.

"Yeah. Yes. I'm fine. I just…sorry. But no."

The last thing I wanted to do was bring one of my brother's friends onto the payroll, only for him to fall prey to Ford's ministrations.

"You need an assistant, don't you?"

One glance at my email confirmed I did need an assistant. Stefan's absence was already noticeable and once I was back in my actual office, it would only be more so.

"I don't want to hire one of your friends," I said.

"I wasn't suggesting you do that."

"What, then?"

"You could hire me."

I barked out a laugh, rolling my chair back from my desk. The wheels clattered over the uneven planks, and I pulled myself back in, the noise a steady hum that immediately began to calm my nerves over the conversation.

"You're too qualified," I said.

"What if I want to do it?"

"You have an MBA."

"And I'm bored," he said. "My job is boring, and it's monotonous, and it's not fun."

"Being an adult isn't fun," I reminded him.

"It would be fun on the farm," he muttered.

"Then go to the farm, Boston. Take a vacation for the winter. But being my assistant isn't any less predictable than your current position."

"But Stefan said?—"

I cut him off, "No."

"Kale."

The doorknob to my office twisted and the giant wood door creaked as it was pushed open. Christian's sleep-drunk face appeared from around the corner, and my heart surged against my sternum.

"I'll think about it," I conceded, eyes immediately locked on Christian's. "We have to talk more. There's…"

"That's all I wanted," he said, giddy with excitement.

"Not now, though. Give me a few days."

"Sure. Yes. Of course."

"Bye, Boston. Love you," I said.

"Love you too."

The corner of Christian's eye twitched, and he waited until I disconnected the call to slink into my office. He pulled the door closed behind him and leaned against it.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," he said softly, his accent thicker when he was tired.

"Just my brother." I pushed the phone toward my computer and turned my chair toward him.

"His name is Boston?"

I nodded.

"Like the city?" Christian asked.

"Like the lettuce," I admitted.

Christian tilted his head back, mouth twitching up into a smirk. "Is there a reason you're both named after produce?"

"Our parents own a farm. Remember?" I crooked my finger, beckoning him closer.

Christian pushed away from the door and shuffled toward me, his bare feet pale against the wood-beamed floor.

"How was your rest?" I asked, tugging him onto my lap. He did his best to straddle me, the arms of the chair hindering his progress. "I thought you'd be out longer."

"It was enough."

"My friends invited us to dinner later," I said, resting my hands on the tops of his thighs. "We don't have to go if you don't want to."

"Isn't that the whole reason we fled the country?" he asked, shoulders wiggling a little with amusement. "For dinner?"

"A quiet dinner for two," I said.

"I don't mind sharing you with your friends while I'm here." Christian leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss against my temple. His lips tickled across the wisps of hair over my ear, and I wrapped my arms around his back and held him closer.

"Then a less quiet dinner for four it is," I murmured, using my head to nudge him around so I could get closer to his mouth. "But we have hours to ourselves before then, and I don't plan to waste a single one of them."