“One more minute, honey,” Olivia said.
“Just think about it, okay?” I said. “I know you need to get her home but take the weekend. I’ll even have someone send you an official offer letter tomorrow so you can review the pay and benefits first. They’re good, Liv.Reallygood.”
Adrian took good care of all his employees, but his wife, Sutton, had inherited Acker Real Estate from her father four years ago and it was a multi-billion-dollar company. She’d split her shares with me and Leo, and the three of us had made sure the compensation and benefits structure was top-tier. Olivia wouldn’t find benefits like ours just about anywhere else.
“Making people send things to you over the weekend is probably why your assistants keep quitting,” Olivia said with a knowing look.
I chuckled. “I never make my assistants work weekends or as late as I work, for that matter. This will take someone in HR less than an hour and weekends are paid at double-time—because we have good benefits,” I said with a cheeky smile. “Besides, that’s how much I want you to consider this.”
“I’ll think about it. I promise,” she said as she set Kaylee down on the ground. “Thank you.”
Kaylee grabbed her hand and started pulling her mother toward the back door.
Olivia followed her and turned back to look over her shoulder. “Have a good night, Jace. I’ll try not to envy your wild night out while I’m in my pajamas on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in an hour.”
I laughed and bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from admitting that spending time with her sounded way better than any experience I was about to have looking for someone at the bar to warm my bed for a few hours.
“Night, Liv.” I watched her walk down the hallway and out the back door into the small parking lot until I couldn’t see her anymore.
“Someday, you should really follow her out that door, Jace,” Jackson said, startling me. He always seemed to sneak up on me when I least expected it. Mom and Adrian had grown up with him and they insisted he’d always been like that; quiet, reflective, and way too observant for his own good.
“It’s better this way,” I said, turning around to face him.
“No, it’s not, man,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Havea good night.”
He went back into the kitchen, and I walked through the bar and out the front door. There were always people looking for a one-night stand or a short fling at Fusion, both of which would help me to ignore the fact that I was pining over the single mom in my life. The friend who did not need me making her life any more complicated than it already was.
Chapter Two
Kayden
I’ve made a mistake.
I’d only been back in Boston for two weeks and I was already sitting in a queer bar feeling decidedly not queer enough to be here. In my defense, I’d planned a meetup with a guy from QueerMatch but he’d canceled at the last minute. I was already dressed and was looking forward to relieving a little bit of the stress that came with being back in the same city as my father and starting a company from scratch, so I’d decided to go out anyway. I hoped a few hours of good sex would help me forget about the business meeting I had coming up on Tuesday afternoon that I’d been relentless prepping for. It was a project that felt extremely fortuitous for my first client, and I really wanted the meeting to go well. So rather than scrap my Friday night out, I’d thought,What the hell? Just pick someone up in a bar.
Hence the mistake.
I was not the kind of guy who picked people up in bars, or really, anywhere. I hadn’t picked someone up in person in years, and even the last time had been an entirely random encounter years ago that had led to one amazing night with a beautiful woman who I never saw again despite frequently thinking about her. I’d unsuccessfully hidden the fact that I was a nervous wreck, and she’d been sweet enough to look past my obvious quirks.
I preferred to find someone on an app, meet up, have a fun night, and part ways. Then rinse and repeat a couple weeks later. It was enough action to maintain my sanity, while not having to make awkward conversation in a bar with strangers and wonder how to tell them I was interested in them or gauge if they were interested in me.
While I mulled over the life choices that had landed me on this barstool—surrounded by attractive men and women but lacking gall to approach anyone—the bartender set another tonic water and lime in front of me. I could have imagined the judgment on their face, but I swore the look they gave me said:Aren’t you a little straight to be here?
Okay, they’re probably not thinking that.Just because I don’t feel queer enough doesn’t mean they can tell. They’re probably annoyed I keep drinking water.
I thanked them and smiled as I adjusted my square-frame glasses. They wandered back to the other end of the bar and I picked up the drink. I’d drink this, pay my tab, and leave. Nothing good was going to come from a partially-closeted bisexual man trying to make awkward small talk with a stranger.
I glanced down at my lap, shaking my head at myself. I’d worn dark wash jeans and an Oxford shirt that I’d tucked into my waistband.If this doesn’t scream librarian who took a wrong turn, I don’t know what does.I looked around the room at the confident people swaying to the beat ofthe music on the dance floor, standing at high tops, laughing, and flirting with each other at the bar.Yeah. I am so not ready for this.
Apparently being a one-foot-out-of-the-closet-and-the-other-firmly-planted-inside-the-closet bisexual in Boston was no easier than it had been in Phoenix. Bisexuals have it hard enough, but closeted and about to turn thirty? It felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. I wasn’t straight, even though I could pass, and I didn’t really feel queer if I wasn’t willing to admit it to anyone outside of my hookups.
I’d known I was bi for a while, but it was only in the last few years that I’d let myself explore that side of my sexual orientation. Growing up with a homophobic father who beats the shit out of you on the regular creates a level of shame that takes years to overcome. But Ihadovercome it. I wasn’t even remotely ashamed of who I was attracted to anymore. I liked men and women. Spending time in the bedroom with both over the last four years had been incredibly freeing.
Now, I was back in the same city as the homophobe who I wasn’t prepared to out myself to and way too anxious and introverted to pick people up without being able to hide behind my phone. I needed time to think through my responses so that I could flirt carefully and strategically.
I took another sip of my tonic water and lime and sighed.Time to go, Kayden.
I turned in my seat to try to catch the attention of the bartender so I could pay my minuscule tab and go home, where’d I’d probably research the company I was meeting with again just to make sure I hadn’t missed anything critical.
