Chapter Seventeen

The store was packed with antique and retro items, most of them seeming to be high value and unique. From what I'd seen in the accounting books, Tarnish specialized in pieces that couldn't be found just anywhere.

Vihaal led me along a narrow hallway and through a room with larger pieces of furniture, then knocked on a door with a sign on it that read Staff Only.

"What is it, Alice?" an irritated-sounding voice said from within.

"It's not Alice," Vihaal stated, in a tone that I recognized as one not to be messed with.

In a moment the door opened. A man in jeans and a ratty sweater stood there, his hair messed, as if he'd just gotten out of bed. He was shorter than both of us and the thick stubble on his face added to his unkempt appearance. His eyes flashed to me and back to Vihaal.

"Vihaal. You didn't tell me you were paying us a visit."

Vihaal shrugged. "I didn't plan it. Thought I'd pop in. This is Angel Barnett. He's going over the books for me."

Dominic turned a suspicious glance to me. "Oh."

"Angel, this is my manager, Dominic Pineda."

I held out my hand. "Nice to meet you."

Dominic gave me a fake smile. "Well, come in. Sit down."

He opened the door wider and beckoned us into an office that was in a state of general disarray. He tidied up some papers and moved a box of supplies out of the way.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were coming."

"I wanted to show Angel my store. He's never been here." Vihaal gestured for me to take one of the empty wood chairs.

I sat. Vihaal took the chair beside mine. Dominic sat in the chair behind the desk.

Vihaal gave the top of the desk a critical look.

Dominic laughed nervously. "I would have tidied up if I'd been expecting you."

Vihaal didn't reply.

Dominic turned to me. "Are you an accountant?"

"I am."

"A certified accountant?"

I blinked. "Yes, I'm certified."

"Angel is perfectly qualified to look over the books. And he's working for me, so you can ask me any questions you have."

"Is there a problem?" Dominic asked.

"That's what I'm hoping to find out," Vihaal said.

"You know, Vihaal," Dominic said, steepling his fingers and leveling a look of confidence at Vihaal. "Your father recommended me because of my vast arena of skills with antiques assessments and accounting."

"Yes, I'm aware."

"Mm hmm. So I take a slight offense to being second-guessed," Dominic said.

I glanced at Vihaal. I was already agreeing with Gideon. This guy was a dick.

"Noted. But irrelevant. This is my store, isn't it?"

"Well, yes but your father—"

"I'm well aware that my father helped me set the place up. But his name is not on any of the ownership documents. He recommended you and so I hired you."

"Yes. Do you think he would recommend someone who was incompetent?" Dominic asked.

"No, of course not. But he might have recommended someone who was a little too competent ."

They regarded each other again. I knew what Vihaal meant by that remark, and I think that Dominic did as well.

Dominic smiled and shrugged, sitting back in the chair. "I think you'll find everything in order. I'm simply surprised that you'd take on the expense of double checking everything."

Vihaal returned Dominic's smile, but there was no warmth in it. Having received many of Vihaal's warm smiles by now, I was kind of an expert on them.

"Since the store's profits have been in decline, it's well worth Mr. Barnett's time and my money."

Sweat beaded on Dominic's forehead.

"The economy is not the best at the moment."

"No. That's true. But it makes sense to check things out, in any case. It's possible that you made a mistake," Vihaal said with calculation and suspicion.

"I suppose that's true," Dominic muttered. "Although I sincerely doubt it."

"In any case, I wanted to speak to you personally, and let you know that I may be asking specific questions about the accounts. Depending on what Mr. Barnett discovers."

Dominic couldn't hide his unease. He glanced at me. I gave him a cool, detached smile, inwardly cheering for Vihaal, who was being so incredibly intimidating.

"Does your father know?" Dominic asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Vihaal said.

"Have you told your father that you're hiring someone to go over the books at Tarnish?"

"It's none of his business."

"I see," Dominic said. "Well, I hope you won't mind if I let him know."

"I'd prefer that you didn't," Vihaal said. "This is between the two of us."

"Hmm. I think that he would be quite disturbed to know you doubted my abilities."

"Is that so?"

Dominic looked less sure in the face of Vihaal's challenge.

"I think so," he mumbled, glancing at me.

"Well, I suppose we should find out. Because if my father, bless his cold, calculating heart, has any underhanded influence on my store, it ends now."

Dominic looked shocked. Then he looked angry. He stood.

"How dare you accuse me of being underhanded!"

Vihaal blinked slowly and remained seated.

"I didn't accuse you of anything," Vihaal said calmly.

"By hiring this man to go over the accounts, you're as plain as stating it outright."

Now Vihaal stood. Tension simmered inside him as if it were a tactile energy field.

"This man has a name. It's Angel Barnett. And he is a Certified Public Accountant and also a close personal friend," Vihaal said in a low, threatening tone. "If either you or my father do anything to thwart Mr. Barnett's examination of the accounts from the past three years, I will not be pleased. I could fire you this minute, Dominic."

"But your father—"

"—is not running this business !" Vihaal said, his voice raised. "I am! And I would ask you to remember that."

I'd never seen him this angry, and boy, was it something. My pulse skyrocketed and my cock swelled in my pants. He was magnificent—blazing with barely contained fury—and I could see the effect it had on Dominic.

The manager sat down. He picked up a pen, then started writing on a piece of paper with furious motions.

"What are you doing?" Vihaal asked.

"I'm making note of this unfair treatment. I won't be intimidated in this manner," he stated, although his red face and trembling hand belied that assertion.

"Are you able to give my father a message, since you're so close to him?"

"I suppose…" Dominic said, somewhat appeased. He put down the pen.

"You can tell him that I will be looking into the management of this store, and if I find anything that stinks of embezzlement or mismanagement, that you will be out the door. And I don't give a fuck what he thinks."

Dominic's mouth fell open. Vihaal stood.

"Angel. Let's go."

Dominic stuttered a laugh and repeated my name in a jeering way.

Vihaal leaned forward and planted his hands on the desk. Dominic clutched the edge of the desk as if ready to propel himself back, if needed.

"I'll fire you on the spot for insulting him. Apologize to Mr. Barnett, or you're done," Vihaal growled, a taut wire of restrained rage.

I sat there, eyes wide and genuinely frightened for Dominic.

Dominic stared at Vihaal. He hesitated a bit too long, and Vihaal slammed his hands on the desk, making Dominic's things rattle and Dominic himself start.

"Apologize to Angel this instant," he said, his voice alarmingly calm and quiet.

Dominic licked his lips and turned to me, summoning a very insincere smile.

"I'm so sorry for that remark, Mr. Barnett. Please accept my apology."

I nodded. "Fine."

Vihaal straightened, pinning Dominic with a withering glare.

"Come on. Let's go," he said, turning to usher me out of the office. I stayed close, not wanting to remain with Dominic a moment longer than necessary.

As we passed through the main part of the store, Alice, who was with a customer, glanced over with a worried look. It was entirely possible that she'd heard some of that.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt," Vihaal said to the customer—a middle-aged woman wearing an expensive-looking wool coat. "I need to talk to my associate for a moment."

The woman blushed and stammered, faced head on with Vihaal's considerable charisma. "Oh, of course! Take as long as you need, I'm still trying to decide."

"Thank you so much," he replied with a smile.

He led Alice over to the checkout desk.

"Yes, Mr. Petrovsky?" she asked.

"I only wanted to say that I'm very pleased with the job you're doing here as Assistant Manager. Please let me know if Dominic is out of line in any way."

She nodded. "Thank you."

"Have a wonderful day."

"You as well. It was great to meet you, Mr. Barnett."

"Likewise," I said.

On the way home, Vihaal cursed and hit the steering wheel with both palms, then sat back against his seat and looked at the roof of the car.

"That fucking snake."

"I think Gideon's right about Dominic," I said. "Do you think he's stealing from you?"

Vihaal turned to me and raised his eyebrows. "Do you?"

"I think it's possible. He rubbed me the wrong way entirely."

This caused Vihaal to slowly smile, and I felt an answering cheerfulness in my pants, even after such a stressful encounter. Vihaal, in business mode and on the warpath, was something to see.

"Mmm. I'd like to rub you the right way."

I swallowed, suddenly breathless. "You're pretty fucking hot when you get angry."

Vihaal's smile got wider. "Am I?"

"Thanks for standing up for me and my weird name." I grinned.

"Your name isn't weird. It's lovely," he said. "And if this is a competition, my name doesn't exactly roll off the tongue."

"True. I love your name, though. It suits you. What does it mean, anyway?"

Vihaal gave me a genuine and astonished smile.

"What?" I asked, breathless at the look in those eyes.

"I've only had one other person even ask me that question."

"Gideon?"

"Yes. Anyway, it means something like imposing, and grand," he said, smiling. "But also, beautiful."

"That's pretty fucking accurate."

"Thank you. That's what Gideon said."

I shrugged, tracing the edge of the glove compartment with my fingertip, and giving Vihaal a coy look. "Well, to be fair, we're both trying to get into your pants."

And that made him laugh. A huge, tension-relieving, chortle from deep in his chest.

"I liked Alice. A lot," I said.

"Yes. She's wonderful."

"How long has she been the assistant manager?"

"Oh, gosh, it's been…four years now. No, five."

"Maybe she should be the manager."

It was an offhand comment, but I meant it. My impressions of them had been diametrically opposed. Alice had come across as competent and sincere, Dominic as ineffectual and shady. I wondered why Vihaal had left him in charge for so long.

"You said your father recommended Dominic to manage the store?"

"Yes. I thought, at the time, that he was helping in his own particular way. But now I'm starting to wonder if Gideon is right about my father possibly sabotaging me."

"Do you think your father would do something like that?"

"I'm not sure," he said, then went quiet. After a few moments, he started talking again. "My father sent me away to boarding school when I was six. I didn't want to go. What eight year old wants to leave the only home they know to stay at school night and day for eight months?"

"Not many."

"I certainly didn't. I begged my mother to let me stay, but she said that it was my father's prerogative to send me. I didn't even know what that word meant." He sighed. "But by then it had become obvious that my autistic younger brother would likely never speak or function in a normal way and I think that was a big blow to them, especially my father. He didn't want me brought down by my younger sibling's disability. Which in retrospect seems even more hideous than it did at the time." He shrugged. "Or perhaps, they simply had their hands full."

"Oh jeez. That's pretty rough. Was it terrible?"

"Angel, those first few weeks were hideous. I missed my mother and my home so much. Not my dad, particularly. But everything else that was familiar. I got used to the place. It wasn't a bad school—they did their best for us—but I'd have preferred not to have lived there. And I didn't understand why you'd go to the trouble of having a child if you didn't want them to live with you. It didn't make sense." He offered me a sad smile. "So, I figured it must have been because I wasn't a very good child, and they regretted having me."

"Oh, V," I said, my forehead creasing with sympathy. "No."

"I was very young, and confused, and homesick. I decided that I would do everything in my power to prove my worth. I put everything into my education. I maintained excellent marks across all subjects. I was determined to show my father how valuable and accomplished I was, so that he'd let me come back home."

Vihaal frowned and shrugged.

"Of course, all that served to do was confirm to him that he'd made the right choice to send me there. Because to him it looked like I was thriving." He gave me a somewhat more cheerful look. "I suppose, in a way, I was. But in other ways I was seriously deprived. I didn't have many friends, because the other students were intimidated by me." He laughed. "Even at eight, I was a bit of an ass."

I grinned, trying to picture him that young. He continued.

"I don't think I bullied anyone overtly. But I'm sure there were some contemptuous glares at opportune moments. And perhaps some unkind words."

I gazed at him, trying to imagine it. "Did you eventually figure out a way to be happy there?"

He thought for a moment, staring out of the windshield at the back of his store.

"Happy? No. But I found a way to survive, and I did become popular, eventually, although I held most of my cards close to my chest," he said, waggling his eyebrows.

"The gay thing, or the kink thing? Or both?"

He gave me a cheeky smile that made my heart ache. "Oh, Angel. You do ask the most entertaining questions. Well, I figured all of that out by the age of fourteen, I suppose, one way or another."

"You little devil."

He actually seemed a bit embarrassed. "It's amazing what you can get away with if you motivate people properly. I won't say anything more, but just know that I had partners at school, and we had fun, and we parted on good terms. But it was all on the QT. From other boys and from the staff, obviously." He shrugged and traced the steering wheel with the tip of his index finger. "I'm sure there were rumors."

"I can imagine," I said.

"Can you?" He smiled at me in a coy way. "What do you think the rumors about me were, Angel Barnett?"

"That you were a sex god with a pair of handcuffs under your pillow," I stated, without having to think about it.

He smiled wider.

"Well. Maybe not a sex god…but a lesser, equally as compelling, entity."

Vihaal sighed and leaned toward me, taking my chin in his fingers and kissing me hard on the mouth, then pulling back.

"Am I a sex god, Angel?" he asked, in such a serious tone of voice it gave me shivers.

"Well," I said, trying to quell the excitement in my gut. "It's easy to get on my knees for you."

And there was that smile again, the one that took over his face and made fireworks go off inside me.

"We should get home. Gideon's probably waiting," Vihaal said, still staring at me with intense emotion.

"Yes," I said. "What are you going to do about Dominic?"

"I don't know yet. That comment about Alice has got me thinking. Even if we don't find anything definitive, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with Dominic in that position anymore."

"No. That's fair."

"I'll have to give him some notice and a decent severance package. It might be worth it for the peace of mind. I can't believe I've trusted him as long as I have."

* * * *

Gideon was waiting for us at their place.

"So? How did it go with Dominic?"

"About as you'd expect," Vihaal muttered.

"Huh. What did you think of him, Angel?"

"Not much, to be honest. He gives me the creeps."

"Nobody likes Dominic," Gideon affirmed. "I don't know how you've put up with him so long, V."

"Yes, I'm starting to wonder that myself," Vihaal said, patting his knee. "Come here. I want to kiss you."

Gideon smiled and rushed over, seating himself on Vihaal's lap and throwing his arms around him. They kissed with passion and lots of tongue as I watched, Gideon giggling and Vihaal trying not to smile.

"Well, you're in a good mood," Gideon murmured, glancing at me. "How on Earth did you manage it?"

I shrugged. "Vihaal told me about being sent to boarding school."

"Oh, yes, the woe is me, my family is so rich that I was cast aside, story. Please. You had it pretty good, V."

"I was very homesick."

"Oh, baby, I know. I'm sure you were. But then you became the hottest, queerest, and kinkiest member of the school, and the rest is history." He got off Vihaal's lap and gave him a formal bow.

Vihaal gazed at Gideon for a long moment.

"Be honest with me, Deo. Do you think my father deliberately put someone in charge of Tarnish who would steal from me? From us?"

Gideon's expression sobered. "Honestly? I wouldn't put it past him."

"I'm starting to wonder."

"I have good instincts about people, you know. I was right about Angel."

"Yes. You were."

"What?"

Gideon glanced at me, then returned his gaze to Vihaal.

"I told V that I thought you were at least bi, or maybe pan, or maybe even mostly gay but suppressing it. And that once we got you to see it, all that repressed sexuality would come pouring out, hopefully over us both."

"Wow." I laughed. Because he'd been right. He'd been so, so right.