Chapter 14

FOURTEEN

Things were starting to change. Toby had the same feeling about the Hawthorne family as he'd had about his own life that day when Duckie had taken him under his wing and started opening doors for him in London's financial world. Aaron from Silver Productions had come out to tour Hawthorne House the day after he'd presented his initial ideas to the family, and the day after that, yesterday, Aaron had called to say Silver Productions was very interested and would be taking the partnership to the next level, if the Hawthorne family was willing.

Things were changing with him and Robbie, too. As much of an utter fuck-up as Staffordshire had been in so many ways, it had also been a turning point for the two of them. Toby had been far too busy for the last two days to take Robbie out, or even sit down with him and discuss what was going on with them, but the anger had gone out of their interactions leaving nothing but potential.

The two of them had smiled at each other more than they scowled. They'd exchanged meaningless greetings and banal pleasantries when they'd met in the halls of Hawthorne House a time or two. They'd only had one actual conversation, when Robbie came across Toby eating his lunch at one of the picnic tables set up in a shady spot near the Renaissance village part of the grounds, but they'd discussed the family situation instead of them.

Them. More and more, Toby thought there just might be a them . He could feel Robbie's interest in him, even though neither of them said anything. He'd taken a couple of extra long showers at times when his mum and Gerry had been out of the house, imagining what would have happened if he and Robbie hadn't been drunk in Staffordshire, and indulging in some much-needed wanking as he did.

Everything was going so well. Victory was within reach in so many ways. Toby felt like he was walking on sunshine. Which was why Aaron's call three days after Duckie had nearly blown things to pieces with Willoughby Entertainment's offer felt so good.

"A little birdie told me that Silver Productions is definitely going forward with the medieval series," he said midway through the morning, when Toby was spending a now unusual day in the London office to get some paperwork done. "With a few, minor adjustments, the jousting arena will do perfectly for what we need. And I've got a list of spots around the grounds what we'd like to use as well for outdoor shots."

"That sounds ideal," Toby said, leaning back in his chair. "Shoot me an email with the specifics and I'll take the idea to the family to see what they think."

"Are you acting as the Hawthorne family's agent now?" Aaron asked, without any malice.

Toby smiled, liking the sound of that. But he had to say, "No, not really. I'm just the point person on this. Once the ball is rolling, I'll hand it off to whichever family member decides to take over. It'll probably be Rebecca Hawthorne."

"Sounds perfect," Aaron said. "We'll be in touch."

Toby ended the call, then leaned back in his chair, smiling at his computer monitor without really seeing it. He felt like he'd done something good. He'd been hired to help the Hawthorne family, and he definitely had. Once a deal with Silver Productions was signed, Mr. Hawthorne could tell Willoughby Entertainment goodbye, and everything could continue on with business as usual.

And maybe, once he was no longer working for the family, he could figure out a way to ask Robbie out that wouldn't seem weird or like a conflict of interest.

That thought made him happy, which is why his boss, Phillip Johnson, found him with a smile on his face when he approached Toby's cube.

"Tillman. In my office. Now," Johnson snapped.

Toby rocked forward quickly, his chair creaking. His smile vanished, replaced by a confused frown when he noticed how furious Johnson looked.

Johnson marched on, not looking back to see if Toby had followed him. Toby pushed out of his chair and strode to catch up with him, his heart beating nearly twice as fast as it had been moments before.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Johnson?" he asked as they turned a corner to where the executive offices were.

Part of Toby wanted to list all the potential things that could have gone wrong and come up with explanations on the spot, but he'd learned it was better to keep your mouth shut than to give people ammunition to use against you.

That didn't stop the ominous feeling from creeping down his spine as he stepped into the spacious, corner office with a brilliant view of The Shard, only to have Johnson shut the door behind him. Hard.

"What's this I hear about you ironing out a deal for the Hawthorne family with Silver Productions?" Johnson asked, striding around to take a seat at his desk. He pointed forcefully for Toby to sit in one of the chairs across from him.

Toby fought not to feel like he'd been called into the headmaster's office yet again for troublemaking as he slipped into the stiff chair. "It's true," he said. "Inasmuch as I happened to end up in a conversation with someone from Silver Production about filming locations while in Staffordshire, and I suggested Hawthorne House."

"That's not part of your job description," Johnson snapped.

Toby felt the proverbial ground under him crack and tremble. He didn't know why, but he was in deep shit.

It was a feeling he knew well, but that didn't make him feel any better.

"My job is to assess Hawthorne House for potential money making opportunities that will keep the Hawthorne family in the black," he said carefully.

"Assessment only," Johnson said, raising his voice. The man was angry, but Toby didn't have the first clue why. "We're not a brokerage. We're not in the business of working out deals on behalf of our clients, unless that's what they've paid us to do."

"I merely started the conversation," Toby said, gripping the arms of his chair to keep himself steady. "One of the family members will likely continue with it."

"Well, they don't need to continue with it," Johnson said. "They have an offer, and they'd do well to take it."

Toby frowned, confused, but also suspicious. "They have an offer from Willoughby Entertainment Group, yes," he said. "But the entire reason they hired me was because they aren't inclined to sell off hundreds of years of their family's legacy and the life's work of most of them who are still alive."

"Bullshit," Johnson snapped. "Who do they think they are to turn down an offer like that? The aristocracy is, if not dead, then a bunch of tottering old corpses walking around thinking they're better than the rest of us, just because they wear silly hats at Ascot."

"The Hawthorne family isn't that kind of aristocracy," Toby said, speaking slower as his understanding of what was really going on started to come into focus. "They run an arts center out of the house, and they're looking for ways to expand the estate's use in a way that supports their community."

"An amusement park will make use of the grounds and support the community," Johnson argued. "It'll create jobs."

Toby's chest started to hurt with the band of tension that felt like it was wrapped around him. "Sorry, sir, but isn't it my job as the assessor they hired to explore every option for reaching the outcome that the client desires?"

"Your job," Johnson said, leaning forward and bracing himself against his desk, "is to do what's best for this company and its interests. Charles Duckworth is a close ally of the company and a personal friend of mine. Without him, you wouldn't be here."

Cold sweat broke out on Toby's back. "It is my understanding that Mr. Duckworth is not an employee of this company, so his interests shouldn't?—"

"Do you think I wanted to hire you?" Johnson cut him off. "Hell no! Why would I want to hire a trouble-making hooligan from the slums with a…a lip ring?" He gestured sharply to Toby's mouth.

Toby tongued the edge of his ring without opening his mouth, indignation battling with soreness at having everything he'd fought so hard to overcome thrown right back at him.

"With all due respect, sir," he said, gripping the arms of his chair harder, "you hired me because I'm intelligent, quick- thinking, and efficient. I've worked here for three years and done everything you've set for me?—"

"I hired you because Charles Duckworth asked me to," Johnson cut him off again. "You owe more than you know to him. And now you're spitting in his eye by working against the biggest deal of his career?"

Toby pressed his lips shut. He was well aware of the circumstances surrounding him, and he'd been conflicted about it from the start. The way Johnson sneered at him, like he'd stolen a bike to take it on a joy ride, was a bitter insult.

"I have been nothing but professional through this entire job," he said as calmly as he could manage. It was a lie, of course. His involvement with Robbie was anything but professional. But that issue wasn't on the table at the moment. "I've done exactly what the family asked me to do. I haven't advised them one way or another about the Willoughby Entertainment deal, I've only given them alternatives."

"Those alternatives could very well cost my friend millions of dollars and you your job," Johnson threw back, eyes narrowed. "You're going to go back to Hawthorne House and tell the family that Willoughby Entertainment's deal is the best offer they're going to get, and you're going to tell them to take it, sooner rather than later."

Toby didn't know what to say. He'd been aware from the start that all was not fair in the financial world, but he'd had no idea that would extend to him being urged to advise a family to accept a catastrophic deal that would break everything that was special and beautiful about them. The threat to his job felt minor when he imagined the stress and disappointment Mr. Hawthorne would feel if Toby said what Johnson wanted him to say.

And that didn't begin to cover how Robbie would feel about the whole thing. Just when the wall between them was starting to come down and something new was growing in its place.

"Are you ordering me to go to Hawthorne House right now?" he asked, careful about how he worded things.

"Yes!" Johnson snapped. "Get out of here and go fix the mess you've made."

Toby pushed himself up from his chair, outwardly calm, but inwardly reeling. "Yes, sir," he said, then turned to go.

He'd hoped Johnson would stop him and tell him it was all a misunderstanding, or at least reassure him that he still had his job as he left. Then again, he wasn't certain he wanted to work for a company that would stab its own clients in the back, no matter how prestigious it would look on his resume.

He headed to his cube to set things in order there, then grabbed his phone and wallet as he prepared to go. He glanced back at his cube as he left, wondering if he should take his photos of Mum, Gerry, and the kids with him or if they would all be packed up and sent to him if his mission went as badly as he had a feeling it might.

He was tense the whole way to Hawthorne House, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles and debating what to do. He firmly believed that the Hawthornes didn't need to accept Willoughby Entertainment's offer. They could get on well with everything he'd been working on and with a filming contract with Silver Productions. He'd accomplished the task he'd been hired to do and had found a way to avoid selling the estate.

But was it worth it for the Hawthornes to get what they wanted and needed when it might very well cost him his job? Johnson and Duckie were both powerful in London's financial world. Crossing them might mean there wouldn't be a single, high-powered financial company left in London that would hire him. Helping the Hawthornes might just torpedo his career and any chance he had to prove to the people who had called him worthless as a kid that he was more than they had ever dreamed of.

Johnson had called him worthless, too, more or less. Could he really stay on with a company that viewed him that way?

He hadn't come up with any answers by the time he made it to Hawthorne House, parking in the family lot. He still didn't know what he was going to say as he let himself in through the back entrance, then strode down one of the family halls to the buzzing front hall.

Classes were apparently switching over for the day. The front hall was busy with a school group gathering to head out and several grey-haired men and women carrying art cases or drawing tubes slung over their shoulders coming in. The two groups smiled and waved at each other, adoring each other's company, if only in passing.

One of the uniformed school kids called out, "Nana, look!" and showed off their paint-stained hands.

"Oh, Georgie," one of the grey-haired women said, laughing and shaking her head as she slipped over to steal a kiss from the boy before the line of his school mates moved to the front door.

Toby's heart ached with the beauty of everything he saw around him. Hawthorne House wasn't an investment property or a cash cow. It was exactly what the family had fought for so long to make it. It was a community center, a place of art and love and creativity. An amusement park would be a cold, noisy, garish eyesore that only benefited the investors at the Willoughby Entertainment Group.

Toby couldn't let it happen.

"Toby? What are you doing here?" Robbie asked as he walked out into the hall at the end of a line of his students. Toby recognized some of their faces from the past two weeks.

"I—" He had no idea what to say at first. All he could really think was that Robbie looked fucking sexy in his jeans and clay-smeared t-shirt, his hair disheveled, and his dark eyes hopeful.

"Is everything alright?" Robbie asked, changing directions and coming over to him.

Toby blew out a breath and pushed a hand through his hair. "Depends on how you define alright," he said.

Robbie frowned at him in confusion, his eyes telling Toby to go on.

Toby glanced once around the busy hall, then focused on Robbie.

"I had a conversation with Aaron Powter earlier," he began. "Silver Productions wants to sign a filming contract with Hawthorne House."

"That's great," Robbie said, smiling and looking like he wanted to throw his arms around Toby and kiss him.

That only added an extra layer to the anxiety creeping up Toby's throat and threatening to choke him.

He shook his head and said, "My boss found out about the deal. He's furious."

Robbie frowned again. "That doesn't make sense."

"It does when you consider that he's besties with Charles Duckworth," he said. "He more or less ordered me to advise your family to take the Willoughby Entertainment deal, and he implied I'd be fired if you don't."

Robbie's jaw dropped in shock. The shock passed, and fury replaced it. "How dare he?"

"You don't have to take the deal," Toby said, the way forward suddenly crystal clear. The integrity of the Hawthorne family and everything they were trying to do with their estate was far more important than a splashy amusement park deal. It was more important than money, and certainly more important than his job. "In fact, I'm telling you, don't take the deal. There's something fishy about it to begin with. I have a strong suspicion that Duckworth is going to bait and switch you somehow. I don't think he's dealing honestly with?—"

"How dare you?" Duckie's own, booming rage sounded from only a few yards away.

Toby and Robbie both turned to find Duckie storming into the front hall, nearly barreling over two straggling schoolkids as he did.

"What sort of self-centered nonsense is this?" Duckie continued to shout, glaring at Toby as he approached. "Who do you think you are?"

He came in so fast and with so much aggression that Toby stepped back. He bumped right into Robbie as he did. Robbie closed a hand around his forearm to keep him from stumbling, then he didn't let go.

"Duckie," Toby greeted his mentor with a solemn nod.

Duckie's eyes went wide. "That's Mr. Duckworth to you, you backstabbing guttersnipe."

Toby wanted to laugh with the accusation, since it could be argued Duckie was behaving just as badly.

"I specifically told you to back off," Duckie went on. "This is my deal, and I won't have you ruining it."

"Excuse me, Mr. Duckworth," Robbie said, "but the deal is my family's. We want to explore every option, including the ones Mr. Tillman has presented to us."

"Him?" Duckie barked, gesturing to Toby and nearly hitting him as he did. "You want to listen to the word of a juvenile delinquent from the slums? You know his father is in prison for drug dealing and worse, right? And that his sister turns tricks for a living?"

Toby's face heated with fury and shame. "She does not," he hissed, even though, knowing Gerry, she probably had at one point.

Duckie snorted a humorless laugh. "This little shit would be nothing without me. He's a sniveling boot-licker as well. He pestered me relentlessly and tried cheap flattery and his so- called charm to get what he wanted. I had to help him get a job just to get rid of him, and you want to take his advice?"

The blows came so fast and hard that Toby was numb before Duckie stopped talking. He'd looked up to Duckie, thought he was wonderful. Duckie had absolutely taken the place of the father who had never given a shit about him and who had told him to fuck off more often than not.

And that was exactly what Duckie was doing now. His words were cleaner and maybe more dignified than his own father's shouting, but the message was the same. He was worthless. He'd never amount to anything. He was a waste of time and space.

And Robbie had heard it all, had been witness to his humiliation.