Bad Idea (Brooklyn Kings #1)

Chapter One

“All right, Monday. Let’s try not to suck.”

But Hayden Porter didn’t hold out much hope. His boss had been away for five days on a spur-of-the-moment trip to Vegas, leaving him scrambling to rearrange meetings. Hayden didn’t complain. Not that it would matter if he did. Boris was off feeling up showgirls, secure in the knowledge that Hayden was in control.

Truth was, Hayden loved his job. Checking off that last item on a to-do list was almost as satisfying as sex. More so lately, as it had been a while since he’d had a chance to get laid. His personal pleasure came in second to pleasing his boss. He had a reputation to uphold.

It was hard being the best, but someone had to be number one. And Hayden Porter—personal assistant to top CEOs in the country—was that person. There were none better. It wasn’t bragging. It was a well-known fact.

Hayden understood his bosses’ needs before they did, had a list for everything, and never lost his cool. He was always the first in the office and the last to leave. His mind was an encyclopedia of the-best-of lists for everything anyone who was anyone would need.

A losing day on the stock market? Hayden was there with forecasts of the next day’s winners. A broken date? He’d have the best friends ready with a table at the hottest club. A mishap with lunch on that five-thousand-dollar custom suit? The best dry cleaner in the city was on speed dial.

Hayden always had it covered.

Except today.

Hayden had presumed their usual Monday morning meeting would run a bit longer because of Boris’s trip. He had reports printed out—Boris hated computers—and his schedule for the upcoming week, plus a summary of the little fires he’d put out on his own with Boris away.

But Boris Kunoff—seventy-five years old, slightly shaky on his feet and possessor of one of the largest fortunes in the Northeast—had just introduced Hayden to his new wife, former Miss Something from Somewhere, Cindy Sue. They’d known each other for one whole month. The last-minute trip to Vegas? He and Cindy Sue had eloped.

Cindy Sue was twenty-four. Her age, and also, from the looks of it, her waistline in inches. She perched on Boris’s lap, where the major assets she brought into the relationship rested on his cheek. But Hayden had little time for snarky, sarcastic thoughts as he listened to Boris speak and his world came crashing down. His leg bounced, the only indication that his normally tight-as-a-drum nerves were on the brink of snapping.

“So you see, Hayden, now that Cindy Sue is my wife, there will be some changes. Her degree is in marketing, and she’s going to take over as my personal assistant.” Boris patted her butt, and Hayden didn’t miss the flicker of annoyance in her eyes, but her blindingly white smile never faltered. For a bank account of 2.3 billion dollars, Hayden would bet Cindy Sue would let a lot of things slide.

“I don’t understand, sir. I’ve been with you for close to six years, and it’s been a seamless arrangement.”

“Exactly, Hay. May I call you Hay?” Cindy Sue fluttered her lashes at him.

She didn’t wait for his answer, which would’ve been a resounding no. No one calls me that. He gritted his teeth and listened politely.

“Sometimes we get too comfy in our position and think nothing will ever change.” Hayden didn’t miss the subtle dig. “Now that Boris and I are married, I plan to be very involved in the business, and we came to the decision that I will be taking over your position. But don’t worry.”

Whenever anyone told him not to worry, he immediately began to have palpitations. His leg bounced faster.

“We’ll give you the best references. I know how you kept this place running and Boris on track. But as they say in the pageant world, it’s time to pass the crown.”

A crown, Hayden envisaged, that would look perfect embedded in her head, but it would take too much strength to get it through the teased waves. “I-I’m just surprised, as you can imagine. I would think, that even if you did replace me”—he swallowed hard as those words he’d never thought he’d utter stuck in his throat—“you’d want me around to bring you up to speed.”

Cindy Sue massaged Boris’s neck, her long red nails bright against his pale, age-spotted skin. “I think I’ll manage.”

Meanwhile Boris, whom he’d served faithfully every day, even on weekends if needed, to the detriment of a personal life, merely sat there silent, a grinning fool. Unable to look at them any longer, Hayden drew together his torn self-esteem and rose to his feet, back stiff, eyes to the opposite wall.

“I’ll be going, then. Good-bye.”

He pivoted on his heel and strode out of the office. At his desk, he started removing his personal items—a coffee mug, various colored sticky tabs, pens. It all barely filled his daily work bag. Six years’ worth of nothing.

The receptionist scurried over to him, goggle-eyed behind her black-framed glasses. “What’s happening, Hayden? What’re you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Hayden removed a bottle of extra-strength aspirin, a box of antacids, and an empty prescription bottle for migraine medication. “I’m packing.” He tossed them into his bag.

“Why? What’s going on?”

He huffed out a sigh and hefted the bag to his shoulder. “I’ve been fired. Boris got himself a wife, and she’ll be taking my position.” His lips pressed together until they hurt. “Keeping it all in the family.”

She blinked rapidly. “You’re kidding. You? They fired you?”

He winced. “No need to repeat it, please.” He glanced around at the job he’d given everything to, and without another word to her or other curious colleagues, head held high, he walked out.

His act of keeping it all together crumbled once he returned home. He sank onto the couch and began to shake. Hysterical laughter bubbled up inside. He’d never been home during the week—he’d worked most holidays, didn’t take vacation, and never got sick. Work was his life, his everything.

“Oh, God.” His leg jiggled and his breath grew short. “What the hell am I going to do?” First thing was to check his bank account. Boris had paid him well, and as he wasn’t frivolous with his money, spending little aside from mortgage payments, utilities, and food, a hefty balance greeted his eyes.

But for how long? The city was for the strong, not weak. Hayden kicked off his loafers, ditched his jacket and tie, and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. At least twice a week for the last year he’d received calls from headhunters, and he was counting on his reputation for an excellent work ethic to find him a position that if not comparable, was at least similar to that of personal executive assistant to the head of a billion-dollar company.

First call was to Janice Butler at Platinum Executives, who’d originally placed him with Boris. His call was put through immediately.

“I know you’re not calling me in the middle of the workday to wish me a happy birthday.” Her raspy smoker’s voice was strangely comforting. “What’s going on?”

“Happy birthday. I’ve been let go.” Hayden relayed the scene in Boris’s office and listened to her huffs of annoyance.

“What a fucking moron. Another fool being led by his dick and a pair of silicone boobs.”

Despite his panic, Hayden’s lips twitched. He could always count on Janice for her bluntness. That and her street smarts were what had enabled her to build a business matching the highest quality personal assistants with top executives from the city. She was fast-talking, brutally honest, and people, especially men, liked to call her aggressive, which Hayden knew was simply a code word for labeling a smart woman who won’t take their bullshit, as a bitch. Right now, Janice was whom he needed in his corner.

“Forget about Boris and his appendage, please. I need a new position.” Hayden gazed around the condo he loved. High in the sky, twenty stories up, and only four hundred and fifty square feet, Hayden loved every inch of the space. His sanctuary. A place where he could be himself. “I only closed on my apartment three months ago. I can’t afford to be out of work.”

“I hear ya. Look, I’m not going to lie to you and say I’ve got the perfect job.”

His heart sank.

“But,” she continued. “I do have a roster. Give me a few, and I’ll send you over to whom I think is the best match. You’re a prize. Don’t worry.”

“I always worry,” he said with a wry thinning of his lips. “It’s my constant companion.”

“Look, Hayden. I’m going to say something you might not like. You’ve been on autopilot for years. Use this time to recharge. Maybe go to a spa.”

“That’s a waste of money I can’t afford right now. Who knows when I’ll find another job?”

“Didn’t you get severance? Don’t tell me Boris is a cheap SOB who stiffed you on that?” Her outrage on his behalf, despite his fear, made him smile.

“Yeah, but not enough for me to breathe easily. You know how expensive it is to live in the city. Three months’ salary doesn’t go as far as you might think once the bills are paid.” He worried his bottom lip. “And that’s if everything goes smoothly and I don’t get sick.” He groaned. “God. It’s all so damn depressing. I never thought it would happen to me. I gave the man everything I had and then some.”

“Exactly. You gave him every piece of yourself, and you’re worn out. If you don’t want to blow a big chunk of change, at least promise me you’ll go out tonight. One drink won’t break the bank, and think of it as your last hurrah until you find a new job. Hook up. Relieve the stress for a couple of hours. When was the last time you had a boyfriend, or even a date?”

Hayden lay on his couch and stared at the ceiling, a sudden longing to be fucked senseless sending a thrill through him. “I don’t have boyfriends, or date. You know that. Who has the time?”

“You do now,” she pointed out.

He winced. “Ouch. Thanks for the reminder.”

But dammit, now that Janice mentioned it, all he could think of was hot lips on his and a pair of strong hands on his shoulders. A wet mouth on his. He closed his eyes…could almost taste it. It would be nice to drown his sorrows with a big dick. All his nervous energy had to go somewhere, and Hayden had never had trouble finding men willing to take the edge off for him. After a day spent doing everything for other people, sex was one of the few things he could control for himself.

“The last time I saw you, Hayden, I wasn’t happy. You were pale and jumpy.”

“I’m fair-skinned and always jumpy. It’s part of my charm. I’m nervous so my boss doesn’t have to be.”

Janice wasn’t fooled.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Okay, so maybe you’re not into a boyfriend. But some random guy who’ll make you forget for the evening can do amazing things for your self-confidence.”

“And you know this from personal experience.” He grinned. Janice had never married and loved to tell stories of her wild partying life when she was younger, and Hayden had to admit he envied her. Sex had become another item to tick off his list of things to do. Shower, eat, get off. Made sense, considering he’d started out having sex as if it were a business transaction. It had taken him years to learn to enjoy sex for pleasure.

“Hell, yeah. Just because I’m in my sixties doesn’t mean I don’t want sex. Older doesn’t mean dead, you know. I still got it. And get it.” She cackled.

“Okay, okay. Enough. I get the point. We could meet up for a drink. I haven’t seen you in ages,” he offered.

She laughed. “I’m not angling for an invitation, and I’m not your type.” He could feel her smirk through the phone. “I’ve got dinner reservations at Per Se tonight. All I’m saying is, try it. There’s something to be said about good old-fashioned anonymous sex with someone you won’t ever see again. As long as you’re safe.”

Shocking tears burned his eyes.

Don’t go there.

Hayden huffed out a sigh. “Yes, Mother.” For Hayden, anonymous sex had been the catalyst for all his troubles, but her advice made sense. Forgetting his problems for one night couldn’t hurt.

“I’ve got to go, but I’ll have something for you later this afternoon. Talk to you then.”

“Bye.”

He set the phone aside. Maybe she was right. The past week he’d been going double time, especially after Boris had left unexpectedly. He’d gotten to the office at seven in the morning and hadn’t left until nine, nine thirty at night. By the time he walked into his apartment, he was too tired to do anything but shower and sleep. He yawned, and even with all the turmoil swirling around him, his lids grew heavy. He hadn’t taken a nap during the day since he was five. His eyes fluttered shut.

**

He awoke with a start, to darkness. “What the hell?” The phone screen showed it was eight thirty in the evening. “I slept over nine hours?” He sat up and rubbed his face. “Damn. I can’t remember the last time I had uninterrupted sleep for that long.” Stretching, he winced from his cramped limbs. The couch might be comfortable, but not for his six-foot-two frame to sleep on.

And now, of course he was wide awake and hungry. With nothing in the apartment, he could order in and spend the night looking for jobs online. He scrolled through his email and found one from Janice.

I have several prospects for you, but I’m going to keep them for tomorrow. Like I said, I want you to forget about it for the night. Call me in the morning.

Amused and annoyed, Hayden grunted and tossed the phone aside. His stomach growled. Loudly. He could say he went to a club and picked up a guy but dismissed that automatically. Janice was a bloodhound and would somehow discover he’d lied to her, and that would break the trust between them.

Besides, what could it hurt? Instead of showing up at his usual hour of eleven, finding someone and getting off in a hurry, maybe he could take his time and enjoy the ride.

So to speak.

Gazing at his clothes, he wrinkled his nose at their sorry state. Scrunched up and messy wasn’t how he presented himself, either in the office or when out on the prowl. He ordered sushi from a place two doors down from his building, knowing they delivered in less than fifteen minutes. Food, like sex, didn’t mean much to him—it was a means to an end, and he ate, anticipating the night ahead. Now that he’d decided on his course for the evening, it was all he could think about. Anticipation flooded his veins. Damn, he was half-hard already.

He took a shower, and feeling more human, surveyed himself in the mirror:

Slim-fitting jeans that emphasized his ass. A green, sleeveless shirt that showcased his tats and biceps while also enhancing the glow of emerald eyes. His blond hair was the proper mix of messy and well-kept, and he fluffed the top with his fingers one more time before taking the clippers and trimming his stubble. One final look, then he grabbed a condom and a travel pack of lube and shoved them into his crossbody bag.

The night was warm and breezy, and Hayden decided to stay within a three-block radius of his apartment instead of wasting time and money on a car to sit in traffic for a club downtown. He stopped on 77th Street in front of The Vibe, a brand-new club he’d walked past and had been meaning to check out. Now he had all the time in the world.

The guy at the door, a six-foot-four hulk dressed in black, gave him a lingering once-over that told Hayden if he struck out in the club, he’d hit a home run outside.

The space was packed, and Hayden waited a moment for his eyes to adjust. Colored lights played over the small dance floor, and he wriggled his way through the crowd to the bar, where he ordered a Tito’s and soda and stood surveying the crowd. The scent of sweaty bodies, cologne, and a faint whiff of weed surrounded him, a heady cocktail he greedily inhaled. So many choices. For the night, he allowed the problems in his life to sit by the wayside. No more worrying about Boris and the schedule of medications he needed to take. Instead of Kunoff Shipping being the main focus of his life, he concentrated on Hayden Porter. He’d think about his bank account tomorrow. His first drink finished, he decided to be reckless and ordered a second. Coupled with the wine he’d already had with his sushi, he felt loose and ready for someone to touch him. He deserved one night to go wild.

“Hey, watch what you’re doing,” an annoyed voice exploded to his right. “You spilled your fucking drink all over me. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I-I’m sorry,” another guy replied. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”

Always one for a little drama, Hayden finished his drink and watched the scene unfold. The angry guy was in his late twenties, tall and skinny, covered in tattoos, and wearing a mesh shirt. A blond poof of hair was swept high on top and shaved close on the sides. Small eyes narrowed with disdain, and his lips pressed thin with an arrogant twist. In contrast, the man he’d lambasted was older, around Hayden’s age, and dressed in a suit and tie. Dark hair framed a sweet, gentle face. Big eyes gazed up, wide and slightly frightened. Not the type he normally saw at a wild club like this.

“I don’t give a shit if it was an accident. I’m wet now, and I smell like beer. Goddamn idiot.”

Hayden moved closer. He didn’t normally get involved, but seeing someone bullied wasn’t fun, and he waited to make sure it didn’t escalate.

The man on the receiving end looked as if he were about to burst into tears. “I’m sorry.” He pulled out his wallet and handed the man a twenty-dollar bill. “Here. For dry cleaning.”

The nasty prick took it, and without even a thank-you, stalked away and disappeared into the crowd. Mr. Out-of-Place sat hunched over the bar, and Hayden slipped into the vacated spot.

“That was nice of you.”

The man shrugged and kept his head down. “I just wanted him to stop yelling at me.” He pushed away the empty glass in front of him. “It wasn’t my fault. It’s so crowded, and when I picked up my drink, it spilled on his shirt.” He raised his gaze to meet Hayden’s. “He was rude for no reason. It wasn’t nice.”

Were those actual tears glistening in those clear blue eyes? A soft heart and deep conversation were the furthest thing from Hayden’s mind at a club. Especially tonight. All he wanted was to forget losing his job and the tightrope he now had to maneuver. What could possibly be the reason for putting a hand on the man’s shoulder and smiling at him? Must be the alcohol swimming in his blood that made Hayden aware of the sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of the man’s nose, his soft full lips, and the dimples in the crease of his cheek.

“I’m Hayden. How about I buy you another?”