Chapter 6
BEAU
It’s been almost a week since Arik kissed me, and I can’t stop thinking about it.
Or how he hasn’t done anything about it since.
I should be relieved! I’m the one who’s tried avoiding him! I’ve avoided discussion about those kisses. I’ve avoided any possible deviation that could lead us down that path again.
But that he hasn’t tried to steer me onto it is maddening!
He hasn’t been avoiding me. Quite the contrary.
He’s been more attentive. More interested in me, but, like, in a getting to know me kind of way, not with the usual banter or veiled flirting.
I thought it was veiled flirting. I had myself so convinced he was straight but catching him with a man on his knees notwithstanding, after those kisses, I figured he had to be flirting.
No one kisses that good without meaning it.
Right?
But if he wants more from me, why isn’t he going for it?
And if I want more…
Why aren’t I?
I don’t even know what I want. The only thing I can be certain of is the unfair reality that every time Arik gets close to me lately, I’m disappointed when he pulls away without stealing another kiss.
I blame those desires on why I stopped him in the kitchen recently. “Since you were curious about my life choices, can I ask you something?”
“Fire away.”
“Why so… independent?”
He grinned. “You mean why such a whore who also isn’t close with his family or has many if any close friends?”
“I would never say—”
“You wouldn’t say whore, I know. I did. And the answer is in the question. I chose to be independent for the independence. Being tied down strips that away. At least I used to think like that.”
“You don’t anymore?”
“Can’t imagine I could, or I never would have asked for full custody of Bastian.”
“I suppose you have a point there.”
“Early midlife crisis?” He chuckled. “Maybe. More like subconsciously thinking I might have been missing out, and suddenly an opportunity I hadn’t chosen but that just happened was right in front of me. And as any follower of Sun Tzu knows, one must act quickly and decisively, always.”
“Yeah, but you also surround yourself with a different sort of family.”
“Do I?” Full disclosure, Arik’s frown is as unfairly handsome as his smirk.
“You do!” I asserted. “You’re not as independent as you pretend. You let Gabby dote on you like a mother. Skylar talks back at you like some petulant younger brother.”
“Oh, please say that to his face. His reaction would be priceless.”
“I’m serious.”
He held my stare with such fixed intensity that all my bluster blew right out of me, especially when he asked, “What does that make you?”
Like the coward I am, I ducked my head, turned my gaze away, and said, “The nanny.”
What else could I ever be? Just because Arik isn’t bringing his hookups around the penthouse anymore doesn’t mean he isn’t still seeing them. By his own admittance, the only thing capable of tying him down is Bastian, his son.
Not the nanny he’s known for less than two months.
We’re three weeks from Christmas, and my crush isn’t just ruining me, it’s crushing me.
“Ah!” I yelp upon cutting through the foyer to discover Skylar waiting there without so much as having knocked, rung the doorbell, or made any noises that would have alerted me he was here for his usual morning powwow and pickup of Arik.
“You really need to spook less, dear heart. It’s unbecoming.” Skylar speaks without looking at me, which is honestly preferable, because when he does look, he adds, “Among other things.”
How can I go wrong with a basic Henley and jeans? They’re clean!
Skylar’s phone rings, and when he checks the caller ID, he answers with a smile gracing his features that I have not seen on him before. I don’t think I’ve seen any smile on him before.
“Aw, is someone missing me already?” he says in the sort of baby voice reserved for, well, babies, pets, and, occasionally, significant others. Because he answered with his left hand, I notice the wedding band around his ring finger.
He’s married. He’s talking to his husband.
“Oh hush. I was hardly even presentable when I walked out the door this morning.”
That makes me feel even worse about my ensemble, because Skylar looks impeccable.
Today’s outfit is all black with a button-down shirt, no tie, and an open blue blazer covered in embroidered black flowers.
He looks like the wedding planner for an A-list celebrity, somehow equally chic and December festive despite wearing floral instead of snowflakes.
I have long since learned to ignore his cracks about my wardrobe—or at least to try. I’m aware I could never come close to being as crisp and stylish as Arik, let alone as runway ready as Skylar, but a makeover is not in my budget right now.
“Will do, darling. See you tonight. Kiss, kiss,” Skylar says and also makes little kissy noises before hanging up. He immediately slides his ever-impressive glare in my direction while pocketing his phone. “Can I help you?”
“Sorry!” I get that it is awkward how I haven’t moved since spotting him, so I finish my trek into the foyer and meet him by the door. “I was just noticing your ring. It’s lovely. That was your husband?”
“Sweetheart,” Skylar sneers while scrutinizing me again, “you’ve worked here for weeks and you’re only now noticing I’m taken?”
I’m not sure how to answer that. Everything with this guy is confrontational, and I’ve never been good at, well, confronting anyone.
I think Skylar notices my floundering. He’s the observant one, after all, and he keeps his attention away from his tablet long enough to utter what can only be described as a long-suffering sigh. “Go on then. Considering Arik is taking literal ages like usual.”
“Go on what? Arik is feeding—”
“Don’t care about the cause, honey, only the result. But if I must wait, why don’t you tell Daddy Skylar all about whatever’s bothering you.”
Given Skylar’s size and style, I wouldn’t instinctively dub him Daddy, but after talking to him? Yeah, that checks. “So, um, you’re… gay? Bi? Pan?”
“Very gay,” he answers. “My husband is bi though. He has the same taste in men as he does in women. Skinny bitches. He just knows I’m the best.”
I chuckle, not because I doubt Skylar, but because I seriously envy anyone with this much confidence in themselves and their partner. “I’m also bi but really out of practice with men. I’ve never doubted I’m not straight. I mean, is anyone 100% straight?”
“Not in my experience,” Skylar snorts. “Or 100% gay, for that matter. I mean, I’m as close as they come, 99%, maybe 98%, but even I can admit that if a good pair of tits walks by, they are nice to look at.”
I laugh again. I agree, though I’ve never really thought about my own percentage. 60/40? Though which direction changes with the day.
Skylar sizes me up again but this time I think it might not be for my clothing choice. “If that was some pathetically veiled attempt to inquire about Arik’s sexuality, he’s not 100% anything. Very much pan.”
“Oh, that I’ve surmised.”
“Have you now?”
“Um, well…”
“Don’t fumble so much that you bite that tongue in two.
Arik told me you got an eyeful the other week.
He tells me everything. After that incident, he told me to keep his calendar clear of, um…
extracurriculars. Not that I usually handle that side of his appointment making, but he still mentioned it. ”
“He hasn’t been seeing anyone?”
“Not on the calendars I have access to. Very odd behavior for him, unless he is closing in on a new sort of prey.”
“Well, he has been very busy with that merger.”
“How astute of you.” Skylar says it as if I am being anything but. “As far as percentages go, dear, I can let you in on a secret, one I think your failed marriage did not teach you.”
That brings me to attention.
“When you find the right partner, it doesn’t matter what your usual percentage is. Your sexuality becomes 100% them. Red isn’t your color,” he adds and returns his attention to his tablet.
“I… hey! It’s Christmas time!” I defend.
“Time of year doesn’t change the laws of the universe.
” Skylar glances briefly at me again. “We need to get you into something… marigold, I think. And something not bought from some online sale or discount retailer.” He turns his tablet toward me where he has already pulled up an apparent candidate—a shirt costing well over $300.
“I can’t afford—”
“Sweetheart, Arik’s clothing budget is so vast, I dip into it for myself all the time. Yes, with his permission. It’s good for business for his assistant to slay as much as he does. Or more so. Same goes for you, considering you’re the one taking care of his spawn.”
“Spawn? Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think Bastian is adorable.”
Skylar stares at me deadpan. “I have corgis. And I prefer them. You, however, have promise. You’re cute, genuine, in need of a new wardrobe but not a gold digger.
If you’ve been a little lax or latent in your sexual exploration lately, maybe get on that—or on someone—and decide what you really want.
Because in this life none of us live long enough to shuffle our feet. ”
He presses purchase on the shirt without confirming my size.
He guessed right anyway.
“Are you bullying Beau again?” Arik’s voice startles me. He is wearing a grey suit today with a navy shirt and lighter blue tie. All that class while holding his son at his shoulder is the equivalent of a cleared complexion and sunny skies. Damn it.
“Honesty is not bullying,” Skylar says. “And seriously, Arik, where do you keep getting these ties? Another gift?”
Arik looks down at it. “This has nearly the exact same pattern as your jacket.” It does, almost the same blue too just with gray flowers instead of black.
“Yes, but I make this pattern look good.” Skylar pulls out another tie from… somewhere, this one in silver. I can already tell it’s going to look amazing on Arik when I take Bastian from him.