Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
CALVIN
“Let me make sure I understand this. You moved the guy from your shed into your house.”
“That’s correct.”
“And I’m supposed to treat him like a house guest?”
“Also correct.”
“And you’re dating.”
“Now you’re making it sound weird.”
“Have you considered that’s because it sounds weird?”
Nix, my house manager, responded about as well as I had expected. He’d left town on Thursday and returned on Monday to an entirely new landscape. He’d treat Micah appropriately, but I still could have given him a heads-up.
“You’re the bossman, so I’ll start fixing two dinners.” Nix plopped down in one of my office chairs. “Anything else I need to know?”
“I’m going into the office this morning, and Micah’s joining me. We’re leaving late today because I have an unexpected appointment and Micah needs to be there for it. He’s going to join me for the fundraiser too, so if you could update my RSVP, I’d appreciate it. Fuck. I also need to prep for Vegas.”
“He’s going with you?”
“I think that would be entirely overwhelming for him, so no.” Nix gawked like he didn’t believe me, but I didn’t have time to discuss it with him. “All right, he’s in the library, so let me introduce you to him.”
Nix followed me out of the office and into the library. When I’d put Micah to bed last night, I told him he needed to be dressed in business casual today and be ready to go after breakfast at nine. He was up, ready, and washing out his cereal bowl by six-thirty. I asked him to wait in the library for me. He hadn’t moved except to fetch a book and his backpack from his room.
Micah truly was an obedient boy. Yesterday was the hottest goddamn day of my life. Before he ended up in my bed, some protections needed to be put in place for him. I was already protective of Micah, and I’d only known him for a few days. What the fuck would I be like in a week? Or after we’d fucked?
“Micah, I’d like you to meet Nix.”
I stopped beside his chair and saw he had the newspaper’s financial section with last week’s date across the top. His notebook was open to a page covered in his incredibly neat writing. Micah jumped to his feet but remained slightly behind me. His smile was shy, but I could tell he was trying to be brave. Nix took the first step and held out his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Micah. If you need anything during your visit, please let me know, and I’ll be happy to help.”
“Thank you,” Micah answered in his soft voice.
He was a shy little thing. I hoped like hell the vultures wouldn’t eat him alive. I intended to keep him close, though, and I’d make sure anyone who pushed him too far would regret it.
Nix waved on his way out the door, and I glanced down to see if I could figure out what Micah was doing in his notebook. It read like an option sheet for stocks with research questions for the specific stocks. Interesting.
“What’s this?”
“It’s dumb.”
“Okay, but what is it?”
Micah sighed, and his freckles stood out against the pink stain on his cheeks. “I think stocks are mathematically interesting, and I wanted to do some research. Before my laptop got stolen, I kept a proper spreadsheet. After that, I created a pricing sheet for tracking trends in my notebook when I could find updates. But my notebook disappeared when my stash spot was found.”
“What’s a stash spot?” Micah’s life on the street was like he spoke a foreign language. “And why not do your research at the library?”
“A stash spot is where you hide your stuff when you can’t take it with you. And there’s not a library near the day job pickup site or the harbor. With my laptop, I could pick up free Wi-Fi from places.”
I understood why Micah was embarrassed by his circumstances, but I was awed by his resilience.
“Thank you for explaining. Let’s head out. It’s going to be a long day.”
I wasn’t as prepared for the looks Micah and I got when we arrived at the office as I thought I’d be. For the most part, I kept my business and personal life outside the office. There simply wasn’t a reason to intertwine them when I had a strict rule against dating employees, which made naming Micah an assistant problematic. Beyond that, I wasn’t much of a romantic dater anyway. I’d had a few casual girlfriends since college, but never anyone serious enough that I’d want them to casually drop by my work. If I needed sex, hookup apps were easier and more convenient and came with significantly fewer entanglements.
When I pushed the entrance doors, the receptionist did a double-take with widened eyes at Micah’s hand in mine. Immediately, my hackles rose at the possibility of an obvious eyebrow raise or stray comment. We lived in the Pacific Northwest, for fuck’s sake. Gay couples were hardly a rare occurrence. My hard stare met her startled gaze.
“Good morning, Mr. Rutledge. Good morning, sir.” Her bright eyes held a multitude of questions, but she plastered on a friendly smile before acknowledging Micah with a nod.
“Morning, Nora. This is Micah Morgan. Please ensure he’s added to the list of authorized visitors and has full access to all areas of the office.”
“No problem, sir. Do you need me to add him as authorized to order lunch and Uber?”
“Yes, please. Is my appointment here?”
“Already waiting upstairs.”
“Thanks.” Nora’s friendlier smile loosened Micah’s death grip on my hand, which I took as a good sign.
I considered explaining the details of the meeting between ourselves and the attorney to Micah on the way to the office. Ultimately, I decided against it. My intuition said he’d spend the entire time second-guessing whatever I told him was the purpose. In the end, I decided it was better to wait until the lawyer could confirm all the information directly with Micah.
Yesterday, a call to a friend who’d gone through a shitty divorce yielded a recommendation for a top-notch divorce attorney. With an offer to double his usual mediation fee in exchange for an immediate consultation, arrangements had been made for him to meet with us this morning. Hopefully, I’d be able to offer Micah some reassurance that he wouldn’t end up on the street again, regardless of what happened between us on a personal level. Our agreement couldn’t be handled via HR.
Micah had burrowed beneath my skin, even if I was terrible at explaining myself. My tendency to be brusque was, reasonably so, misinterpreted as being an asshole. And it was my problem to fix.
I held Micah’s hand firmly in mine as we made our way to my office. Was it the most professional move? Absolutely not. Was it the easiest way to make his position and importance known? Absolutely yes. It worked exactly as I hoped when eyebrows rose but no comments were forthcoming. Waiting in the reception area was a tall man in the standard innocuous gray suit and blue tie known to lawyers everywhere. I only released Micah’s hand long enough to shake his.
“Levi? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Calvin Rutledge. You’ve come highly recommended.” The lawyer’s grip was firm, but his smile, if a little reserved, was friendly.
“It’s not every day the ex-husband of a client recommends me to someone, Mr. Rutledge.”
“Fair enough, and call me Cal, please. My friend said you handled some private complications well and ensured his ex-wife was well represented.”
“I’m not sure if I should thank you or not,” Levi said with a small chuckle. His curious gaze turned to Micah.
“This is Micah,” I said and drew him forward. Micah gave him a tight, confused smile but offered his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Micah whispered.
“Let’s all go into my office so I can explain why you’re here.”
I ushered everyone in and directed them to a sitting area near the windows. Micah moved toward the chairs, but I tugged him back and installed him on the couch beside me. Levi sat across from us and immediately pulled out a notebook and a pen. Once settled, he peered at Micah and me, waiting for one of us to explain why he’d been summoned.
“Micah is my boyfriend.” I ignored Micah’s muffled meep and continued, “I want him to feel protected in our relationship. There is a significant monetary imbalance between us.”
“You need a contract for that?” Levi asked while he jotted down some notes.
“Micah’s entry into my life was…unique. It would reassure him to have some clear protections in place so he doesn’t feel obligated or coerced to protect his interests. I’m sure communications here today are private, as are the circumstances of our introduction.”
“I can appreciate that, and, yes, the attorney-client privilege protects these negotiations,” Levi said thoughtfully before turning to Micah. “Cal, my understanding is you are paying the fee for this meeting and the forthcoming charges. Are you my client? Micah? Both of you?”
“If you can only represent one of us, then you represent Micah. Either way, I’m still responsible for the bill.”
“Micah, what do you want?” Levi spoke kindly and softly. His tone was so at odds with the shark my friend described. I understood the necessity of ball-busting in the thick of a contentious divorce, but the difference was startling.
“I’m okay if you represent both of us,” Micah answered. He seemed a little bewildered, but I could hardly blame him under the circumstances.
“All right. We can proceed as long as both of you understand that you have the right to have an independent attorney look over the documents and negotiate on your behalf separately?”
We gave our agreement, and Levi continued, “And my goal here is to reach an agreement you both think is fair and equitable. Are we all on the same page?”
Again, we agreed. Micah’s body was stiff and tight next to me on the couch. I released his hand long enough to drape my arm over his shoulder. When he snuggled closer, the Daddy in me purred. My boy was precisely where he should be.
“Micah, let’s start with you. What protections do you want from Cal?”
Micah froze like a deer in the headlights at the question.
“I’d like…” Micah cleared his throat before he continued, “I’d like to keep my bike.”
“Was it your bike before you met Cal?” At Micah’s nod, Levi added, “Then it remains yours after. Do you have your own place?” Micah shook his head. “Not that I’m suggesting breaking up will happen, but if it did, you’d need some money to allow you to move in somewhere else.”
“Okay, that makes sense. Maybe five hundred? That would cover a few days in a motel,” Micah said hesitantly.
Levi looked increasingly concerned. “Five hundred dollars?”
“Oh, is that too much?” Micah’s eyes widened and his panicked expression did not bode well.
Yeah, I’d fucked this up.
“Levi, let’s try this. I want to ensure Micah feels protected should anything happen. In your experience, what would you like to see on his behalf?” Micah’s suggested amount would have him back in the shelter within days.
Levi had been making notes during this entire time. “Micah, for your protection, I’d like to see an agreement that any gifts given during the relationship stay with you. Personal items purchased with an obvious intention for you, such as clothes, would belong to you even if they are not technically called gifts. It’s true anyway, but it’s easier if a contract spells it out.”
“What do you think is a fair amount of cash?” I wanted Micah to know he had resources and options.
“The amount I’m about to give isn’t as high as I’d like, but since Micah started at five hundred, I don’t think you’ll agree with the number I’d want for you.” Levi paused before he asked Micah, “Would you agree to ten thousand?”
“No! That’s too much,” Micah sputtered. “Maybe one?”
“Twenty-five,” I countered.
“I’d be okay with twenty-five hundred,” Micah tentatively offered.
“Thousand,” I clarified, ignoring Micah’s mutinous expression.
“That’s too much.”
“It’s not enough, but you’d disagree on how much I want. You said this was your worry, and now I’m fixing it.”
Levi interrupted our stalemate with a fake cough. “Micah, this is for your protection, and even though I doubt that at this moment you’re planning on breaking up or something happening to Cal, things happen. And when there’s a significant income disparity, it matters. I was hired to ensure the agreement was fair to you. Realistically, Cal doesn’t need the protection, but you might.”
“Micah, let me do this. I need to know that you feel protected and safe. You said you were worried about ending up in a worse position, but with this agreement, I can prove it won’t happen because I won’t let it happen. Please.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Micah shuffled his body over so he could look me directly in the eyes. His green eyes stared me down. After a beat, he conceded. “All right, I’ll agree.” Micah’s eyes never left my own.
“Thank you for agreeing, baby.”
Micah’s eyes softened, and I dropped a kiss to his lips. He gave me a regal nod and turned back to Levi. “What do you think would be fair?”
“First, I’d also like to add some caveats to the basic agreement. The agreement is enforceable regardless of perceived wrongdoing, we revisit at six months, and half the cash will be held in escrow in my client account with the other in a back account accessible to you.” Levi sat back in his chair and let Micah process his words.
Micah’s gaze returned to me instead, and he stretched to whisper in my ear, “Daddy, this is what you want for me? Are you sure?”
I moved his curls and whispered back, “Yes, little one. I want this for you,”
Micah turned back to Levi and answered, “I’ll sign it.”
Levi beamed at my boy, who immediately turned and looked up at me. Relief bloomed in my chest. Micah would permit me to show my willingness to protect. Within a few days, I was head over heels for the proud man with curly hair and piercing green eyes.
After a few more minor details, Micah excused himself to the restroom. Levi began to gather his items, but there was one more thing I couldn’t ask about in front of Micah.
Once he was out of the room with the door shut behind him, I turned to Levi. “When the documents are drafted, please send them over immediately so we can sign them. But I’d like you to handle another task for me before you go.”
Levi immediately stopped packing up and said, “Whoa. Does this involve Micah? I’m both-siding here, so he needs to be involved.”
I leaned forward on the couch, elbows to knees. “It does, but my reasons for not telling him aren’t bullshit. Micah’s been trying to get his documents from social services, but they’ve disappeared down a bureaucratic black hole, and he’s gotten nowhere. He’ll be crushed if you’re unsuccessful, and there’s no telling how long it will take. Not only that, he’d worry himself sick about it if he knew. It’s better to present it to him after the documents are in hand.” I kept my mouth shut while Levi contemplated my request.
“Here’s what I can do. Let me make a few inquiries and see how far it gets me. At the risk of sounding like a lawyer, a demand letter from my firm might be sufficient to get them off their asses and search the files. Individually, the workers at social services are caring, overworked people. Collectively, the agency is a slow-moving pain in the ass. If it takes anything more than a demand letter, Micah will need to be made aware of what’s happening.”
“I can live with that.” I fought the urge to jab a fist in the air and let loose a whoop and settled for a smile and a firm handshake instead.
After a whirlwind week, I was finally going to be able to see Micah dressed in his new suit when he attended tonight’s charity auction with me. The benefactor for tonight’s auction was the local arts magnet school. In addition to the donated charity items, the students’ artwork would be available for purchase. As much as I hated the event part of the foundation’s work, it was nice to know the money was getting put to good use.
When my parents returned from their trip, I intended to push this back on them. Unless, of course, Micah mentioned that he liked attending these things. If that happened, and I hoped to all that was holy he didn’t, I’d shut my mouth about my burning hatred of them and suck it up. Fingers crossed, it worked out in my favor.
As promised, the suit shop in Mercer City completed the alterations in record time, and Nix had fetched it earlier today. Micah said he wasn’t nervous, but I wasn’t sure whether that was the truth. When he said it, he looked like he was turning green.
Unfortunately, I didn’t know the magic words to reassure him. He didn’t, or maybe couldn’t, see himself the way I did. The thought of him being by my side was enough to swell my chest with pride. I wanted to show him off to the world and then make them seethe with jealousy that he wasn’t with them.
Micah spent the afternoon reading the energy books he’d picked up at the bookstore while making notes in his notebook. He was deep in concentration, with the very tip of his tongue poked out the side of his mouth. Fucking adorable. I knew we needed to get ready, but I kept putting it off because he was so engrossed in his research. Even from a distance, I could see the wheels turning while he wrote furiously in the composition notebook. When I did finally interrupt, he reluctantly put away his research. Unfortunately, that meant I had to stop ogling him from the doorway.
“Micah, you ready?” I asked when I knocked on his door. From the other side, I heard shuffling and movement but no answer. “Micah?” No answer. “I’m coming in.”
I turned the knob without resistance and peeked inside. Micah stood by the dresser and stared at himself in the mirror. When he turned around, I had the full force of him. The front lapels of his suit emphasized his slim frame and he’d tamed his wild curls into orderly perfection.
“Daddy, I think you made a mistake.”
“If you mean about you, that’s not possible.”
“What if everyone knows I’m a fraud?”
“You’re not a fraud. You’re perfection, and I’m going to be so damn proud to have you standing next to me.”
“Daddy, you barely know me. I could embarrass you.”
“Barely know you? I know a shit ton about you. You worry about others before you worry about yourself. I know you’re nice to the waitstaff. You’re wicked smart and sexy as hell. Little one, you’re a unicorn.”
“Unicorn?” Micah snorted. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
Micah’s look conveyed that he thought I was out of my damned mind, but it didn’t matter. The only way he’d believe me was to prove it, which would only happen with time. The teeny sparkle in his eyes told me he was pleased with the description, even if it was on the silly side.
“Do we have some sort of rule against sassing Daddy?”
“We do not,” he answered primly.
“First, you’re fucking amazing, and I already know all the things I need to know. Second, we need to revisit rules…well, we haven’t visited them at all…so visit that soon.”
Micah seemed to be somewhere between contemplative and intrigued. As much as I wanted to see where this conversation could lead, we had to get a move on. Instead of reminding him to get dressed, I’d stood there for much too long, watching him shut out the world while he worked on this project.
After grabbing his backpack, I hustled Micah out of the house and into the car. We caught the ferry to the mainland and made it across town in record time, but we still arrived at the country club after the festivities started. Tension rolled off Micah in waves as I turned into the driveway. His backpack was between his legs while he played with the worn hook strap with his left hand.
“It’s not too late to change your mind, Daddy,” he joked with a weak smile.
“There is no one…no one on the goddamn earth I’d rather spend my evening with.”
I pulled up in front of the venue. The valet came to our car, but I kept him waiting. Making sure Micah was all right would always be more important. “Remember, there’s nothing people enjoy more than talking about themselves. Stay right next to me, and it’ll all be fine. I promise to take care of you.”
Micah seemed slightly mollified, and that was enough for now. When he reached across the console to link our fingers, my heart almost pounded out of my chest. “Promise, Daddy?”
“I promise. You are an interesting, capable, wickedly smart man who looks fucking edible tonight.” With a groan, I leaned across the console and cradled his cheek in the palm of my hand. “No one will be prouder than I am to have someone exactly like you on their arm.”
Micah looked away, but he couldn’t hide the blush rapidly crawling up his neck. The small smile that tilted his lips was my reward, and I’d take my wins where I could find them. Tonight was going to be all right.
I opened the door, tossed the keys to the valet, and waved off the attendant to help Micah out of the car myself. He stepped out and gave me a tentative smile. My response was a full kiss on the mouth. The feeling of his smile against my lips was precisely what I hoped to feel tonight.
Regardless of my feelings toward these events, I wanted Micah to enjoy the evening. After grasping my offered hand, Micah laced our fingers together, and we walked up the steps. After this moment, I wouldn’t ever have a reason to question the concept of fate again.
In the front room, Micah and I signed in and claimed our purchase tickets. A few people did a double-take at our clasped hands, but no one dared breathe a word. We went around the displays of artwork and curated experiences to purchase. I told him he was in charge of choosing our items. He studied every option with a jotted pro/con list.
It broke my heart to see how intensely Micah considered each choice. No one should have to put so much thought and concentration into choosing something nice. What I thought would be fun had turned into torture. My only takeaway was I needed to show this man the world. After perusing all the options, he suggested we pick the private tour of a local preserve area guided by a naturalist and a private cooking class at a local restaurant using foraged ingredients.
Micah rose on his toes and said softly in my ear, “Daddy, I’m not sure which one to pick. There’s too many, and they’re all gorgeous.”
In this area, I could understand his hesitation. The student projects were plentiful, varied, and stunning. Given that I hadn’t progressed past stick figures, the talent of these teenagers astounded me too.
“Yeah, you’ve got a point. Maybe it would help to think about where it’ll be going—it’s my gift to you. What would you like to have in your room?”
“You’ve already done plenty for me. You don’t need to buy me presents too,” Micah gasped.
“I absolutely do because you deserve presents. We all do. And I want to do it because it’ll make me happy to know that you have something from me that I know you want and love.” I paused before leaning down and whispering, “And don’t argue with Daddy when I want to give you a present.”
Micah’s sharp inhale, followed by a sway into my side, made my own breath hitch. This man was going to be my everything.
“In that case, I know exactly which one I’d like.”
“Good boy,” I murmured.
He led me over to one of the smaller pictures available. It was a mixed medium piece with watercolor and found objects enclosed within a simple wooden frame. The blurb accompanying the piece said the artist had created it by combining discarded objects with watercolor to create a field of wild daffodils.
“Daffodils were my mom’s favorite flower. When she was alive, that’s what she had in flower beds in front of our house. The last spring before she died, I was helping her, and she told me she liked the daffodils because she took care of them and they took care of her by making more, which made them friends. Mom said that’s how I would know someone was my friend—when we cared for each other and took care of each other.” Micah sounded wistful when he explained his rendering choice.
All I could do was wrap my arms around him and hug him close. Every day, Micah let more pieces of himself show and opened up a little more. And I was…not. He was owed the same level of vulnerability he’d given me. Unfortunately, tonight was not the time or place to consider how to rectify the error.
I hadn’t mentioned it to Micah or anyone else, but I’d spent my evenings in roughly the same way since I’d heard the word Daddy from Micah. A shower where I jacked off thinking about the sweet, sexy boy across the hall, followed by reading everything I could get my hands on about Daddies and boys. The repeated mantra was that honesty and trust were paramount in a Daddy/boy relationship. Clearly, I was failing in that area.
“Calvin, good to see you tonight,” boomed Harold, the head of the corporation sponsoring tonight’s event. He turned to eye Micah and added with an equally loud tone, “And who is this?”
“Harold, this is my boyfriend, Micah Morgan. Micah, Harold is sponsoring tonight’s event.”
Micah nodded and put out his hand, which Harold grasped in a hearty shake. My eyes narrowed at how long he lingered with Micah’s hand in his. Let him the fuck go, old man.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for allowing me to come tonight,” Micah said shyly. “The club is beautiful.”
Micah gazed around at the over-the-top flower arrangements and passed silver trays. Contrary to his fears, he didn’t look out of place. He shone, surrounded by the twinkling and sparkling lights that enveloped the room.
“I’ll be sure to pass it on. My wife does all the frou-frou stuff, but she always worries it won’t come out perfectly. I tell her, ‘Bev, when hasn’t it ever not come out great,’ but she doesn’t listen to me.”
Harold’s hearty laugh carried through the crowd. Micah smiled weakly but remained quiet.
“Calvin, can I trouble you to meet and talk Emil into giving a few more bucks? You know how he likes to compete with you, and I think we can get some more out of him. It’ll take two minutes, tops.”
“While you do that, I’m going to excuse myself to the restroom,” Micah interjected sweetly. “Can you tell me where it’s at?”
“Sure, go back to the entrance and it’s down the hallway to the left,” Harold answered, but he was already distracted by looking for his shakedown target.
Before Micah stepped away, I pulled him close and gave him a lingering kiss. Was it over the top? Yes. Was it necessary? Probably not. Was I going to do it again? Fuck yes.