***
Lachlan went home and immersed himself in a few chapters of his latest novel, while carrying on a Skype chat with Darren. Now that they were about to meet, it was so much easier planning their new idea of writing a novel together. Well, getting Giovanni to write a novel with him, without warning him beforehand, of course. He still thought his latest ideas weren't worth publishing, so Darren was going to send Lachlan some copies to read, before they met up at the cabin.
So far, what he'd read of the snippets Darren had e-mailed him were fantastic.
“I think you should call him,” Darren said for the one millionth time.
Lachlan rolled his eyes and kept typing, trying his hardest to ignore him so that he could finish the chapter he was working on. He always had difficulty with the fifth chapter of a novel; that was when he knew exactly where the story was going and all he had to do was get it there. It was also, unfortunately, the part where the characters started acting up and deciding they wanted to deviate from his plans for them. Sadly, they weren't always wrong.
“If we can arrange to be a buffer between Konnor and everyone else, we can do some damage control before we even get there,” he explained yet again, as he kept his eyes on the screen and his fingers on the keys.
“You've said that twice in the last hour. I still think that you should call Grayson and arrange for everyone to arrive in dribbles. That way Konnor has time to get used to each arrival before being bombarded with the next.”
Darren sighed and signed a few papers on his end of the screen.
Just as he was about to veto that idea, since Grayson wasn't likely to agree, a voice spoke up from the corner. “I agree.”
Lachlan turned to frown at his husband, who had either come home early or had snuck up on him while he was distracted and had, once again, lost hours to writing. “You would. That doesn't change the fact that Grayson won't listen. His plan is to bombard Konnor with so much that he doesn't have the chance to think,” he explained, for perhaps the third time today.
Heading across the room, Cormag grabbed his laptop from his lap. Lachlan frowned at him, but all he did was hit the save button and place it on the coffee table; that gave him no excuse to get it back.
“Then we'll just have to change Grayson's mind,” he insisted.
“Really?”
“Really. I think you should call Grayson, to see if Konnor would be receptive to the idea of a more gradual intervention.” Cormag smiled and kissed his cheek as he got up from his seat next to him and headed into the kitchen.
Lachlan was still convinced that making the first move was the worst idea in the history of ideas. “Just let me finish this chapter. It's number five and you know how much I hate the fifth chapter,” he asked, trying every convincing excuse he could think of to buy himself a little more time.
Cormag popped his head around the kitchen doorway with a sceptical raised eyebrow, while Darren glared at him openly through the computer screen.
“No.” Darren sighed and pushed aside his paperwork, before leaning closer to the screen. “I'll call Grayson and talk sense into him. I'll e-mail you his reply,” he said, leaving him no wiggle room as he ended the Skype chat immediately.
Lachlan bit his bottom lip and turned to see Cormag leaving the kitchen with two cups of coffee. He accepted the cup he handed over, holding it between both hands as his husband sat beside him. “Should I feel guilty about Darren doing this himself? He hasn't even met Grayson,” he admitted, worried that he'd left the burden on Darren's shoulders when he already had enough to deal with.
“I think he'll be fine. He's an impartial party,” he claimed, blowing on his coffee before taking a sip. “I want us to talk about Monroe,” he said, with a much more serious look than he expected.
Lachlan was always willing to stop working to spend time with his husband, so he nodded and moved into a more comfortable position, drawing his feet up onto the sofa beside him.
Cormag's little brother was still working for the advertising firm so he didn't really see what the big problem was. He was happy, working in an environment that catered to his every need. But he kept quiet and waited for the big reveal; Cormag had that unsure look that said he really didn't know how to come out with it.
“Just say it. What's going on with him?” he asked, a little concerned now that he saw that look. They had just seen Monroe a week ago at his nephew, Jonas' birthday party. He had seemed perfectly fine, even talking about how he'd been given a new promotion with better pay.
“He's got this serious problem at work,” he began, chewing his lower lip as he scratched his forehead. Lachlan placed his hand on his knee and gave him a look of encouragement, asking him to go on. “His boss…he's…he's asked Monroe to go away with him on a trip out of town.”
“Okay…and what's wrong with that? Monroe's his idea's man and he's just been promoted to his personal assistant. That's kind of normal, love,” he reminded him, since his husband had a personal assistant as well, because work was so hectic.
“I don't think he wants him to go for business.” Cormag said the words, but his eyes suggested there was another meaning. To Lachlan, it sounded like a boys’ weekend away or team bonding thing, so he didn't see what the big deal was. “I think his boss is hitting on him. Monroe said that he's been acting different lately. That he's always brushing his arm and telling him how brilliant he is. Monroe loves it; he thinks it's because he's doing a great job with his work. But I'm not sure that's what it is,” he continued, so seriously that he almost laughed.
“And why not? Maybe the guy is just a little tactile?”
“No. Monroe says he doesn't do it with anyone else,” Cormag complained.
Lachlan smiled to himself as he realised what the real problem was. Monroe's boss had a crush on him. Well, that wasn't a bad thing.
Monroe had never made his orientation clear. Maybe it would be good for him to be on the receiving end of some adult flirtations. From what Cormag and Harper told him, their little brother had never had a date or a first kiss and he didn't notice when people flirted with him. For him to notice that his boss was acting different was progress, in his book.
“Monroe is a big boy. He's perfectly capable of having a relationship if he wants one. His condition is not so severe that anyone could take advantage of him; he's too smart for that,” Lachlan said, trying to remind his husband that Monroe wasn't incapable. His bipolar disorder was under control with medication that kept him stabilised and his new job contributed to his good mood. He was even making gradual changes to his daily routine for the sake of his job, to help combat some of the things his Aspergers made difficult. Eye contact, being touched, confronting changes, plans going awry: they were all symptoms of a hectic work life and he was trying to adapt. As far as Lachlan was concerned, he was doing brilliantly.
