Chapter Four
Briggs
I was walking a fine line between interested suitor and crazy stalker when it came to Teller Buchanan, but I wanted to know more about the man. He was Maizie’s best friend, and they worked together. Was he a little like Maizie, and did he already have a Daddy? That would be terribly sad.
Teller mesmerized me as no one else ever had. His eyes danced when I talked to him, and he had the energy of a little firecracker, which was something I wanted in my life. I was determined to continue the conversation to find out as much as he’d tell me about himself.
“Wow, you really meant that you’d wait for me, Mr. York. My rideshare should be here in a few minutes.” Teller walked over to my car and stared at me for a moment.
“I just wanted to be certain you were picked up by a credible service. As I said, I’d give you a ride if you want one.”
The adorably shy grin tugged my heart. “I appreciate it, Mr. York, but I’m fine.”
I touched his arm, gently turning Teller to face me. “Please, call me Briggs. I’m impressed with you, Teller, and I’d like to get to know you. I think we could be good friends.” That didn’t sound too stalkerish in the least.
A random Toyota pulled up and rolled down the passenger window. “Buchanan?”
“That’s my ride. Thanks for waiting with me, Mr. York…Briggs. I hope you’ll come into the bar again.”
“Oh, I will. Be safe, Teller,” I responded, biting my tongue to keep from giving him my number and asking him to text me when he got home.
The desire inside me was nearly overwhelming. I wanted the young man to give me time—his time—but I couldn’t force him. That was definitely stalkerish.
“Thanks again,” Teller called as he hopped into the Toyota and the car drove away.
Maybe I needed to find Shelton Arms to see exactly where Teller and Maizie lived. I was in the real estate business. Maybe I could make their living situation better?
My weekend was filled with making notes on new ideas of how to restructure York Properties, considering how my employees around the world would fare if I began liquidating or consolidating certain aspects of the business.
Being less involved in the company was a risk since it had been my brainchild from its inception during my junior year of college.
I’d worked on building the damn thing for years, and I’d brought a lot of people on board who I cared about over the years.
Now, however, was the time when things could continue with minimal input from me, and I was ready for it.
How I’d manage it was unclear at the moment, but in my mind, it was time to try.
I walked into Bloomfield’s on Tuesday afternoon at four. If memory served me properly, Teller showed up for work at two, so his shift should be well underway. I walked across the floor until I found him in the men’s underwear section, and I stepped back to watch him work.
There was an older man standing with him in front of a Calvin Klein section.
“These are men’s boxers, briefs, and the new guy on the rack, boxer briefs.
They’re more supportive than boxers but not as binding as average briefs.
Ninety-five percent cotton and five percent elastin, which is like spandex.
They’re quite comfortable, and they keep things in place without being too constrictive. I wear this same brand.”
I couldn’t help chuckling as I listened to his spiel about men’s underwear.
When he said he wore the same brand, my mind shifted into gear, trying to picture his slender form filling them out.
He was quite convincing in his speech, and I was ready to buy out the whole damn department on his word alone—then I wanted to check if he was really wearing Calvin Klein boxer briefs.
After the older man picked up three different packages of underwear, Teller walked his customer to the register and checked them out. “Thank you.” When the man walked away with his bag, Teller went back to straightening the racks of underwear and undershirts.
I walked over to the racks, stopping behind him to touch his shoulder. “Hi. I’m looking for some boxer briefs.”
Teller spun around and gasped. “I… What are you…?”
“Why are you working in the men’s underwear department instead of men’s wear?”
“I, uh, got in trouble because you returned the jacket and ties. Mr. Kerry said it was my fault that the merchandise was returned because I must have complained to you about losing the commission, and I’m not a team player. He booted me to this department.”
Oh, that pissed me off. How dare that prick blame Teller for something I did of my own choosing because of him, not Teller. If anyone deserved the blame, it was that Kerry fellow.
I gazed into Teller’s beautiful eyes, trying to collect my thoughts. Finally, I was able to put words together. “I had the merchandise returned because your boss was an asshole and cheated you out of a hard-earned commission. I’d have never bought anything that tight ass suggested.”
Teller sighed, his expression unsure, which had me on alert.
“He also said your wife returned the things because they weren’t authorized purchases, and he took the hit for the return from the store manager.
I’m sorry your wife didn’t… If you returned the clothes, where did your jacket and tie come from on Friday night?
Why didn’t you bring your wife with you to the bar?
” The beautiful young man appeared to be quite upset, which wasn’t necessary at all.
I retrieved my phone from the breast pocket of my suit coat, scrolling to York Properties’ company website. I found Madeline’s picture and turned the device toward him so he could see the photo.
“This is Madeline Wicks, my executive assistant. She returned the clothes for me. I’m not married—never have been.
I purchased the same merchandise from a sister store at another location, and they were delivered to me on Friday morning.
I’m sorry I got you in trouble. I’ll be happy to explain the situation to someone other than Mr. Kerry. ”
Getting Teller in trouble had never been my goal, but that asshole Mr. Kerry? He was a smug bastard. Yes, I returned over a thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise and paid more to buy it from another Bloomfield’s and have it shipped to me. Kerry deserved what he got.
“So you’re not some slimy married guy trying to cheat on his wife with me? You’re not on the down-low?” Teller asked.
I chuckled. “Not at all. I’m forty-four years old and unmarried. I’ve been in a few relationships over the years, but none of them have ended in marriage. What else do you want to know about me?”
“We’ve only met a few times. We barely know each other.
Why do you want me to know things about your life?
” Teller’s gaze didn’t leave mine. “Are you—do you want money from me or something? I mean, you’ve mentioned that you’re looking for a place to live.
You’ve shown up at my jobs, though I did tell you the places where I worked.
You came into O’Malley’s on Friday when I was on shift.
Surely you can see how this comes across as outrageously disturbing, right? ”
“Excuse me. Could I get some help?”
We both turned toward an older woman who was holding a package of undershirts. I quickly turned toward a rack of pajamas to leave Teller to do his job.
I studied Teller to see that he was extremely kind to the woman, explaining the sizes to her and listening to her as she told him about her husband being in a memory-care nursing facility after being diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.
She’d cared for the man she’d been married to for fifty-two years as well as she could until it became too much for her, and her sons had demanded she find a facility for him.
It was easy to see it had hurt her to do so.
I watched Teller wipe his eyes as he rummaged through a drawer under the register. “I found a coupon, Mrs. Bingham. Get another pack of T-shirts. It’s a buy-one-get-one free sale.”
I took a deep breath at hearing his lie. I knew the previous Friday night, when I’d gone to the pub, that Teller hadn’t charged me for my food, though I could have bought the pub. I wasn’t bragging, but Teller’s kind disposition and tender heart touched me deeply.
My only question was how the hell could I get him to let me into his life?
Rolling into the office early Tuesday morning, I tried to get a handle on my emotions.
I knew Madeline hadn’t done anything wrong when she returned the coat and ties for me, but the fact that Teller lost his position in the men’s department because of something Madeline said pissed me off—if she said anything at all.
There was a distinct possibility Kerry had made that shit up.
Reining in my protective nature was important because Teller and I literally knew nothing about each other. Though that wasn’t what I wanted for the future.
I took the elevator up to the executive floor and stopped at Madeline’s empty desk to wait so I could talk to her. My cell rang, so I pulled it from my pocket and glanced at the screen to see it was Barrett. “Hey, Barrett. How are you?”
“I’m good. I haven’t heard from you since we met at Chez Remy, so I wondered if you’d changed your mind.”
“Oh, hell, Barrett. I definitely haven’t changed my mind. You in?” I’d been caught up in the thrall of a lovely young man and had neglected my business responsibilities. Surprisingly, I wasn’t sorry about it in the least.
I needed to get my head out of my ass. Barrett was my friend, and he deserved my attention because he was important to me and my future plans.
With Barrett and me working together, we had the chance to have time and space to pursue other interests. Barrett had already found love, and he’d want more time for his little girl. I wanted the same for myself, and if we worked together, we’d each get what we wanted.
“Your offer’s too good to turn down. When do you want me, Briggs?
I took off next week for Thanksgiving, so I can come into the office, and we can plot world domination.
I gave my notice to the prosecutors’ office, but it’ll take a month to pass off my cases to a colleague.
I can’t fucking wait.” Barrett laughed, and I joined him.
That was another reason I like him. He had a sense of humor.
“Come to York Properties on Monday. You can start full-time after the first of the year. Madeline will set you up with anything you need so you’ll be ready to go after the first of the year. She can even help you find an assistant.”
“I’ll see you on Monday.” Barrett ended the call.
As I was about to scratch out a message for Madeline on a slip of paper, the elevator chimed and she stepped off. “You’re here before me? What’s wrong?”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Did you tell the folks at Bloomfield’s that you were my wife and you didn’t approve of my purchase? When you returned the jacket and ties, I mean?”
Her face dropped for an instant before she started laughing.
“Briggs, the guy was an asshole and had a nuclear meltdown when I returned those items. He refused to take your credit card to make the return, insisting that you return the items yourself, so I thought, ‘What would Briggs do?’ Well, knowing you, I decided not to give him a choice.”
I chuckled, seeing Madeline’s staunch demeanor. “Oh, and what would Briggs do?”
“I told the asshole that I was your wife and you were on an allowance, and I hadn’t authorized the purchases. I told him to return them or I’d call Mrs. Bloomfield, whom I played bridge with on Thursday evenings, and tell her he was being a bitch.”
Holding in my laughter wasn’t possible. My anger faded to affection. She was damn right about what I would have done in her place. “I’m sorry I doubted you. Thank you, Madeline.”
She put her purse inside her desk and stared at me. “Get me a coffee with two creamers.”
I bowed. “As you wish. Pastry?”
“No, I’m going to a wedding just before Christmas.
I had my dress fitted, and I cannot gain an ounce.
Oh, I wouldn’t mind a fruit cup. Heston slinked out of the house this morning, that asshole, and I had to search the neighborhood for him, finally found him in a neighbor’s yard, sniffing after their female cat.
I didn’t get anything for breakfast. Now, away with you.
” She dismissed me with a flutter of her hand, and I laughed as I went to the elevator.
I was actually proud of the way Madeline had handled that snippy dick, Mr. Kerry.
I’m just glad I wasn’t there. I’d have smacked the shit out of him.
He had no business questioning why the merchandise was being returned.
It had the tags and a receipt, along with my card.
Who the hell steals merch and returns it with the same credit card?
I had to get Teller out of that place. He had talent that was being wasted at Bloomfield’s. I had no doubt there were better opportunities for him to shine, and I’d make it my mission to find them.