Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

M ack typed a response and deleted it. He tried again and deleted that as well. He searched through his pictures and found a selfie he’d taken and posted as a thank you to John when he first moved in. The angle just caught that shelf. There was no vase.

He sent that photo to John with the time and date stamp on the social media post. “Hey, I’m not sure what’s going on, but there was no vase on that shelf when I moved in. Maybe it had been moved somewhere else before I started sleeping on the couch?”

Eating his lunch even though he didn’t have an appetite, Mack watched his phone waiting to see what John’s response would be. Several times, the indicator dots appeared as if he was writing something, but no message popped in. Finally, he had to go clock back in.

Mack tried to push the worry building in his gut away as he got the dining room restocked for the evening rush. The crowd demanded his full attention, helping distract him as the evening customers arrived. He’d almost forgotten the problem by the time his shift ended.

One glance at his phone made his anxiety skyrocket once again. Joanie was now swearing he must have taken the vase on his first day there and claiming it was a very expensive piece she’d received from her grandmother’s estate. John was urging Mack to return it and he’d get Joanie to not press charges.

Charges? What the fuck! I didn’t take anything.

“Hey! Are you okay?” Elsa asked as they walked out the back door.

“I think so. Just some strange stuff going on at the last house I stayed at.”

“Is it going to be a big problem?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. It’s got my spidey senses going,” Mack confessed.

“Aren’t you seeing that lawyer? Maybe you should ask him?” Elsa suggested.

“I don’t want to bother him. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Better safe than sorry. See you tomorrow?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m on at lunch again.”

“Awesome. Me, too. Talk to him, Mack.”

“Have a good evening,” Mack answered, not promising anything.

He thrust his phone into his pocket, not wishing to read any more of the vicious texts Joanie was sending. Walking toward Grey’s office, Mack tried to figure out what to do. He was still debating the best move when he reached the front doors.

Mack went to the security desk and gave them his name and Grey’s. When asked, he provided them with his ID and watched them scan it into the system.

“Mr. Bradford added you to his approved after-hours visitor list. Here’s a card to hold on to. It will open the elevator doors for you. It is only for your use and will be revoked if you share it with others. I’ll recognize you after your first few visits, but other guards will request to see your ID after that.”

Mack took the card and his ID back. “Thanks. What floor is Mr. Bradford’s office on?”

“The top one.”

Mack thanked him again and walked to the elevator. Just as the guard had advised, after hours, access was limited if you didn’t have an employee ID or one of these special cards. He swiped the card over the sensor and stepped inside.

When the doors opened on the top floor, Mack looked around. “Holy crap.”

“The perfect impression to make on a prospective client,” Grey told him with a laugh.

“The guard alerted you I was on my way up?” Mack asked, walking toward Grey.

“The elevator notifies whoever is on this floor. It’s a safety measure.”

“You must deal with some bad guys to need so many layers of security,” Mack observed.

“Usually there’s no trouble. Let me show you where my office is, and I’ll grab my stuff. I’ve done everything I can for tonight.”

“You work too hard,” Mack suggested.

“Too hard is relative. I like to stay busy,” Grey explained as he led Mack down the hall to a large office with a gorgeous view. “And before you moved in, I just went home to an empty house.”

Mack walked to the window to look out over the city. Grey must have been standing here when he walked by. The man bun must have given him away. He checked on Poutine, feeling totally outclassed. The small stuffie was still hidden.

He is really a big deal.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. This office is amazing, and I enjoy it every day. It feels like home. I hope Armando’s is like that for you.”

Mack had turned around at Grey’s order to “stop it.” The comparison to Armando’s made him think. That thought had struck him when he’d applied for a job. The restaurant and its family management did feel like that was where he should be. Like home.

He nodded. “I’m glad this is a happy place. Dragging yourself into work every day because you hate it there is the absolute worst.”

“Now, you’re finished working. I’m finished working. Shall we go home?” Grey suggested.

Mack felt the corners of his lips curl upward at that thought. “I shouldn’t think of your home as a refuge already, but I do.”

“I’m glad. Let’s get out of here.”

Mack watched Grey grab his suit jacket from the back of the chair. He noted Grey didn’t bring anything home. He hadn’t noticed him with the traditional briefcase the night before, either. “Don’t you take stuff in an attaché case or something?”

“I don’t believe in homework. That’s why I stay late. When I walk out of here, I should be set up for the next day.”

“That’s probably a healthy attitude.”

“I hope so,” Grey commented and pressed a hand to Mack’s back to steer him out of the room.

The warmth of his touch felt so good. Much better than it should. Mack worked hard to not lean into that guiding hand or let his expression tell what it did to him. Fuck! A simple touch. What would happen when they…

“Where did you go, Little boy?”

Mack struggled for something to say that didn’t make him look like a total weirdo that had spaced out because of something so simple. “I had a bunch of crazy text messages from the guy and his girlfriend I’ve been living with.”

“Really? What was so strange about them?” Grey asked, ushering him into the elevator.

“They say I stole a vase that was on the bookshelf in the family room where I slept. I didn’t ever even see a vase,” Mack said, trying to shrug it off.

“Do they have any proof or some other reason why they think you took it?”

“Joanie hates me. They were on their way to breaking up before I got there. I was just some extra stress on their relationship. I feel sorry for John, but boy, does he need to get away from her.”

“Let’s go back to the vase. What kind of vase was it?” Grey asked as they stepped out onto the ground floor. He called, “Good night!” to the guard as they passed.

“I found a picture of me in a social media post on my first night there. There’s no vase on the shelf that they say it was on.”

“And it was dated and posted on the day you moved in?” Grey asked casually.

“Yes. I thought that would stop it, but she’s nuts. Each message I get inflates the worth of this vase. Now, it’s a family heirloom that she inherited from her grandmother,” Mack told him, shaking his head.

“Will you let me read these when we get home?” Grey requested.

“Sure. Do you think it’s a problem?” Mack asked, getting nervous again.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like the way you’re describing what’s happening. That’s definitely not the way friends usually handle things. Did you ever visit John’s house before you moved in?”

“Of course. We had a gambling night there a couple times a month.”

Grey was quiet as he pointed his car out in the parking lot. A front reserved spot, of course. He opened the passenger door for Mack and ushered him inside. When Mack didn’t reach immediately for the seatbelt, Grey leaned inside to pull the restraint across him and buckled it. The silver fox’s scent was enhanced by a subtle cologne that was enticingly woodsy and spicy. Mack couldn’t help taking another inhale.

“You make me want Italian food, Little boy. The aroma of warm garlic bread is imprinted on your clothes. Do you taste as good?” Grey asked.

His lips brushed against Mack’s, making his heart beat faster. Wanting more, Mack leaned forward to press his mouth against Grey’s. The kiss that followed launched instant heat in his belly. It was smooth and sexy—a promise of sizzling exchanges to come.

Grey lifted his mouth and smiled. “I knew that was going to be good, but I had no idea how delicious you would taste. Let’s head home.”

When Grey got in, he backed out of the parking space and merged into the city's evening traffic. There was no doubt he was comfortable driving in the congestion. “Can you multitask?” Grey asked when they stopped at a red light.

“Yeah, pretty well. Why?” Mack asked in confusion.

“I don’t like the sound of your former hosts’ allegations. Just in case, I think we need to be prepared. Send me their full names and their address. Look at your photos. Send me anything that shows that bookshelf before you moved in with the date stamp.”

“I’d hoped that picture on my first night would squash the thought that I’d taken the vase. Do you think I should be concerned?”

“Remember, I’m a lawyer. I’ve seen the best of people and the worst. Being prepared is always a good idea. While you’re doing that, tell me about your day.”

“It was good. The kitchen was on, and all the food came out hot and correct,” Mack shared.

“Who was your toughest customer?” Grey asked.

He pondered for a while as he searched for pictures and sent screenshots to Grey. “It was probably a lady who was there with a guy I was sure she was going to dump.”

“Oh? How did you know that?”

“It was just a vibe. She sat straight in her chair and looked around a lot.”

“Interesting. Totally not focused on him. That’s a sign that things aren’t going well.”

“He ordered the three-way pasta bowl.”

“That’s huge, right?”

“Yes, I’ve shared it with four other starving servers when a to-go order wasn’t picked up. There was still some left over. She had a salad and some breadsticks. His order is why I focused on them. I was ready to box up the leftovers. He ate everything down to the last noodle.”

“No way. Was he a super athletic runner or something? You know, carbing up?”

“He was just a normal size. Probably smaller than me.”

“Did they talk?” Grey asked.

“Not a lot. They didn’t argue. They just seemed to be existing together. It was kind of sad.”

“That is sad. I bet you do wonder what’s going on with people sometimes. Did they have an argument before they walked in or is that their normal? You never know as the server,” Grey suggested.

“You have to be pretty good at reading people, too. Who was the oddest client you had today?” Mack looked up at his companion as he switched the focus to Grey’s day.

“Let me see,” Grey said as he negotiated around a limousine picking up a crew of sparkly dressed young women. Mack noted he didn’t focus on the women, even the one whose skirt rode up as she leaned into the stretched vehicle. “I had a reading for a will of a long-time client. I don’t handle estates often but crafted this last testament as a favor for a friend.”

“He passed?” Mack asked and then realized how stupid that had to sound. “I mean, I’m sorry your friend died.”

“Thank you, Mack. I understood why you were asking.” Grey took his hand off the steering wheel to wrap around Mack’s leg just above his knee.

Grey’s heat radiated through his pants. It felt good. Mack laid his hand over Grey’s and squeezed gently. “Thoughts get jumbled up in my mind sometimes and come out screwy.”

“I think that happens to everyone, Mack.” He took his hand back to turn a corner and Mack missed it immediately.

“What happened when you read the will?”

“It was obvious my friend had not shared his plans with his family. Nor had he shared all his family with his family.”

“What does that mean? He had other relatives who some of his family didn’t know?” Mack asked, trying to deduce the problem.

“Yes. He had an additional family unit—another female partner and a daughter.”

“What? How did he keep everyone from knowing all that? Did she live in another country?”

“The housekeeper,” Grey said, letting Mack fill in all the details in his mind.

“Oh, fuck! And the wife didn’t know?”

“Watch your language. She was most upset about having to find a new housekeeper. She was good,” Grey shared.

“I don’t even know what to say.” Mack’s mind was scrambled.

“They actually had a friendly conversation. The housekeeper is moving into the west wing of the house and will continue to clean in exchange for room and board. My friend’s will guaranteed he would continue to pay for the daughter’s private school education. The same school his children with his wife attended. And college.”

“The housekeeper doesn’t get anything from the will?” Mack asked.

“Oh, yes. She gets a chunk of money and keeps the investments my friend already made for her. She’s quite a rich woman now.”

“But she’s going to keep being a housekeeper?”

“She enjoys the family, the house, and the work. In the end, they’re all tickled with how it worked out,” Grey summarized.

“Oh, to be a fly on a wall in your office,” Mack commented.

“Or in Armando’s. I’ve seen a woman throw a plate of hot spaghetti on her date.”

“No way! I bet Armando flipped,” Mack said, forwarding the last bookshelf picture he could find.

“It was all cleaned up very quickly and quietly. There was, of course, a buzz in the dining room,” Grey said as he turned into his gated community.

He paused at the guard shack and waved at the man inside. When he emerged, Grey said, “Burt, this is Mack Oliver. He’s staying with me. Could we get him an access card?”

“Apply online and I’ll watch for it and process the application quickly. Welcome, Mack,” the large man said pleasantly.

“Thank you, Burt,” Mack replied politely.

“Yes, thank you, Burt,” Grey echoed. He waved and drove through the gate.

“They looked at me a bit when I walked out,” Mack said with a laugh. “It’s the man bun. They probably thought I was the pool boy.”

“Without supplies?” Grey asked.

Mack just looked at him and laughed. “I think I’d have the perfect tool for a pool boy.”

“And here I am pool-less. Maybe I need to get started on that.”

“Nah. I never understood just lying around at the pool. I’d rather watch a movie or play a sport or a game. My mind gets bored just chilling,” Mack shared as Grey pulled into the lit driveway.

The lights must be on a timer.

“Says the twenty-six-year-old,” Grey said with a laugh.

“How old are you?” Mack asked.

“Forty-eight.”

Mack did the math. Over two decades divided their ages. That seemed crazy, but being with Grey didn’t.

“Does the difference bother you?” Mack asked.

Grey turned off the car and turned to look at him before answering, “No. How about you?”

“It doesn’t seem to matter.” Mack shrugged his shoulders. Grey felt right.

“Then we don’t worry about it. Stay there. I’ll come to get you.”

“I can get my own door,” Mack said with a chuckle.

“Only if you want a red butt,” Grey warned, catching his gaze for a long second before turning to get out.

Mack blew out his breath. Why did that make him so hot? The image of being stretched out over Grey’s lap flashed into his mind. He stared at the handsome man rounding the hood of the car. How was this happening?

Grey opened his door and leaned in to unfasten his seatbelt. Grey’s hand brushed against Mack’s thighs as he drew the restraint away from his body. At Mack’s sharp inhale, Grey said, “You feel it too, don’t you, Little boy? I’ve never had this instant connection with anyone.”

“Never,” Mack breathed.

Grey stood and held out his hand to help Mack from the car. He pressed that hand against Mack’s back again to steer him inside. “Are you hungry?”

“No. I had plenty to eat at Armando’s.”

“Is Poutine hungry?”

Horrified he’d forgotten his stuffie, Mack reached up automatically to double check that his stuffie was still hidden. When he found her safe, Mack unfastened his hair and hugged the small plush otter. “I think she’s okay. We sampled a new dish at break time. We can sit with you if you’re hungry.”

“Let’s change into some comfortable clothes. Then you can meet me back here in the kitchen. I’ll throw together some snacks and we’ll see if I can tempt either one of you.”

“And we can talk?” Mack suggested.

“That’s a great idea. The first one done gets to ask the first question.”

As Mack digested that, Grey took off down the hall. “Hey! That’s cheating,” Mack accused, racing after him.

“You have less to take off than I do,” Grey suggested, looking over his shoulder before darting into the main bedroom.

Mack turned into the nursery. His suitcase was totally unpacked. He had to search through several drawers to find a pair of athletic shorts and a T-shirt. He quickly unfastened the front of his white dress shirt and tried to yank his arms out. “Damn it!” It took another few seconds to get those buttons coaxed through the buttonholes.

He threw that shirt onto the bed and went to work on his pants. He was just stepping out of his black trousers and his shoes when Grey’s voice announced, “Looks like I can start working on the first question to ask.”