Chapter 3
Today might be the worst day of Samuel’s adult life.
Nothing can be worse than the things he went through as a child, but this is definitely at the top of the pile for adulthood.
Not only is Samuel humiliated and ashamed after sending his uber strait-laced (and straight!) boss the most pathetically slutty email ever— by mistake— which means he’s most definitely going to lose his job.
But he’s also someone who has now experienced a panic attack.
In public. While he was waiting for his eggnog latte.
Fucking.
Fantastic.
This is the best job he’s ever had in his entire life. He’d hoped to stay with Mr. Demarco forever. If Mr. Demarco changed jobs, Samuel had hoped he’d go with him.
Which is probably ridiculous. His therapist has many opinions regarding his fixation with his handsome, older, meticulous boss, most of which boils down to Samuel turning his romantic attentions elsewhere.
Which is exactly what he was trying to do!
He grabs his pillow and screams into it. Which is better than crying. Which he already did today for an hour.
His phone rings.
Oh god, it’s Wendy.
“You know!” he says accusingly when he picks up the phone. His voice wavers.
“I’m so sorry, honey.”
“I pressed send, got a cup of coffee from the office kitchen, sat back down at my desk, and realized what I had done. It was an accident! I don’t even know how it happened!
He’s so good at his job, he’d already read the damn thing!
The look on his face, Wen. One time, he stepped in dog shit and had to wipe it off his shoe before we went into a meeting, and the look on his face was just like that.
I’m dogshit to him!” he wails, and sobs into his pillow.
“You are not dogshit! You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and that includes his ex-wife!”
“Well, obviously,” Samuel mutters and wipes at his nose with his sleeve. Which is a disgusting thing to do. He’s gone through his box of tissues and is now onto a roll of toilet paper, which he left in the kitchen when he went to get a cup of tea. He gets up to go get it.
Mr. Demarco’s ex-wife is a cheating bitch the poor man still has to pay alimony to.
“Look, Bryan’s not happy about it, either. I don’t think he’s going to fire you. He doesn’t want to. That’s why he called Ryan in the first place.”
“Did he say that?” Samuel whispers.
“Well… no. But I’m sure of it. What would the grounds even be? You didn’t mean to send it to him, so it can’t be harassment, can it? And it was deleted as soon as you realized your mistake, right?”
“Yeah, I went into his email and deleted it. But what if they check for inappropriate content? I had my personal and my private email accounts up. They’re both Microsoft.”
“Well, let’s blame Bill Gates, then. I’m sure he’s got it coming, too,” she says.
“I don’t want to get a new job. And the way he looked at me, like he didn’t even know me. He’s so disappointed,” Samuel says, and then he’s crying again. Mr. Demarco’s disappointment is the worst thing in the entire world. It could literally destroy Samuel.
Wendy huffs. “Look, Bryan is a stick in the mud. His parents were too religious. The kooky kind. And so were Kathy’s. They were married at eighteen for crying out loud. They probably did it through a sheet! I’m sure the email was fine and he’s overreacting.”
He wipes his eyes. “It was bad.”
She huffs. “Well, don’t quit. Make him fire you if he’s so high and mighty. You go into work tomorrow and act like nothing happened. It’s not like you work for Hobby Lobby! Who cares? He doesn’t even know about pineapples!”
That gets his attention. “Really? I thought everyone knew about pineapples.”
“Exactly!” she says triumphantly.
“Did he,” he sniffles, “tell you what the email said?”
“Honey,” she says, and he wonders if his mom would have sounded like that if she’d lived. Like she cares. Like nothing is so shocking and horrible that it would make her not love him. “Are you sure you want to be fooling with a man who chose Ballbuster69 as his email address?”
Samuel groans in shame. “Mr. Demarco saw that?”
“Call him Bryan. Good grief.”
Samuel winces. He knows he should, but that isn’t how he thinks of the man. It feels wrong.
“He’s a nice enough guy. I’ve met him at a munch or two, and I never liked him all that much, but lately I’ve just been—” he gets up and goes to the kitchen to get some water.
“Lonely. I’m so dang lonely, Wen. And he’s not horrible.
He’s older, and he’s had boys before. We’ve been chatting for a while, but this weekend we were gonna play.
Monday is a holiday, and I’d have the day to recover.
And then it’s basically Christmas…. Beggers can’t be choosers, you know? ”
She sputters, sounding indignant on his behalf, which is nice. “You are not a beggar! There is no way you’re a beggar! Guys must fall all over themselves for you,” she says. She even sounds like she believes it.
“If I wanted a one-night stand, I could have any gay guy in the city. They’re all sluts. But I don’t want that. I don’t want to be a hole. I want to be special. I want him to give a shit about me and care. And I want him to take care of me.” His voice wobbles pathetically.
“Is Ballbuster the guy to do that? Does he have a real name?”
“His name is Lex.”
“Lex,” she repeats. “That sounds made up.”
“That’s entirely possible. Half the people in the kink community use made-up names.”
“Hmm. What does he do?”
“He’s in between jobs.” Samuel winces.
“How long has that been going on for?” She asks, sounding unimpressed.
“Uh… a while.” He can feel the disapproval coming through the phone.
“Will you go to his place?”
“No, he’s… we can’t go to his place.”
“Roommates?” She asks.
“Yeah. Sort of.”
A heavy sigh. “Does he live at home with his mom?”
“Don’t judge! It’s a really bad economy out there.”
“Uh huh. How old is he?”
“Do we have to talk about this?”
She waits.
“He just turned fifty.”
“Define ‘just,’” she demands.
“He’s gonna be 53 in March.”
“Oh Samuel.”
“Look, I know he’s not perfect! He doesn’t have money or a job, or a lot of hair, but he is gay. And that’s a hell of a lot better than having a crush on my straight boss!” He gasps in horror. “Which I don’t have. To be clear. I am not in love with Mr. Demarco. I mean Bryan!”
There is a long, horrible silence. Because they both know that Bryan Demarco is straight as an arrow. And Samuel being in love with him is never gonna go anywhere.
“I just want you to be happy,” she finally says. “Is this man likely to hurt you?”
“I mean… not in a bad way,” he says. “We’ve talked about stuff. Negotiated. I’m not afraid of him. And I could defend myself. It’s not like he spends a lot of time in the gym.”
He squeezes his eyes closed and contemplates banging his head against the refrigerator. “I know I’ve made it sound like this guy is a total loser, but he isn’t. Promise.”
“Send someone a picture of his driver’s license before you go anywhere with him. I’m serious. And share your location, too. You can send them to me if you want.”
He nods, too emotional to say thank you. It’s nice to have someone care for him. Who feels almost like family. “Yes, ma’am.” He blows his nose again.
“Now then, what are we gonna do to make sure Bryan doesn’t do anything stupid tomorrow?”