Chapter Two #2
Ryan shook his head, and that basically ended the strangest interview of Wyatt’s career. He couldn’t imagine that Ryan wouldn’t want to taste his food if he was going to be cooking for him every day. But then, he’d never worked for someone who integrated blowjobs into his interview prep before.
Ryan’s behavior should be a turnoff—and it was—but it also left Wyatt curious.
Even if Eric left, he didn’t know if he could ask Ryan what had been the goal last night.
He didn’t know if he could bring up last night at all.
Even before running into Ryan this morning, it had felt too raw to talk about.
“Here’s the compensation package.” Eric slid a single sheet of paper across the conference table. The starting salary listed had an extra digit than his current salary at Terroir. It was a no-brainer, even as his brain tried to talk him out of it.
He didn’t know Ryan’s intentions. His motives. Would he want to keep sleeping with Wyatt? Was this some sort of combined private chef/rent-boy position? Wyatt knew he should request to speak to Ryan in private and ask those questions, but instead he kept his mouth shut and nodded.
“When can you start?” Eric asked, like he had known if he threw money at Wyatt, he’d agree. And he, Wyatt thought bitterly, had been exactly right. He could totally be bought.
“I’ll give my two weeks tomorrow,” Wyatt said, clearing the bitterness out of his throat, “but I fully expect Aquino to kick me out immediately. He doesn’t like it when staff leaves. So I’ll be able to start in a few days.”
“The job includes free rent at the ADU on the back of Ryan’s house,” Eric said.
“I don’t suppose you mind us running a background check.
Standard procedure for anyone granted access to the property.
” Another paper slid across the glass, along with a pen, and Wyatt scribbled his name without even reading the verbiage.
He didn’t have anything to hide—unless the tryst he’d had with Ryan counted, and maybe it didn’t.
After all, Ryan was out of the closet. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted, including hook up with some random guy he met at Temple.
“Great,” Eric said. “I’ll also make sure to issue you a credit card for food purchases, and for any equipment purchases for the kitchen. Anything over $500 requires Ryan’s approval. But it’s pretty well-stocked already.”
Wyatt took that with a grain of salt. Well-stocked had different meanings to a professional chef than it did a sports agent who probably hadn’t been in a kitchen in years.
Ryan waved a hand, and gave Wyatt an intimate smile that made his stomach clench. “Don’t worry about it. You can get whatever you need.”
Eric shot his client a hard look. “We talked about this.”
“Yeah, we did,” Ryan retorted. “And I made my decision.” If Eric wondered why Ryan would trust someone he’d only met for five minutes, he didn’t question it.
Eric rolled his eyes but didn’t say another word, simply got to his feet, indicating the interview was over.
If it had even been an interview at all.
“Nicole at the front will have the paperwork for you to fill out,” he said.
“I expect you’ll let us know when you can officially start.
” He held out his hand, and Wyatt stood to shake it again, and before he realized what was about to happen, he was alone again with Ryan.
Wyatt tensed. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Could he escape still? Claim he had to get back to Napa? Claim he had a desperate need to fill out paperwork?
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Ryan shot Wyatt an endearing smile. He looked more nervous now than he had picking up Wyatt last night. How was that even possible?
“I hope this is all okay,” Ryan said.
Wyatt was annoyed by how endeared he was. You wanted to manipulate him? Fine, just don’t pretend like you hadn’t. “I wouldn’t have agreed if it wasn’t okay.”
Ryan’s smile brightened, and Wyatt was frustratingly reminded of his own expressed desire to get him to smile more. He would be in a serious position to do that, if he chose to, now. But he was feeling backed into a corner, and the thought didn’t fill him with any anticipation.
“I’m glad you did.”
“I’m sure you are,” Wyatt said, and some of his frustration leaked into his voice. He wasn’t nearly as good at fronting as Ryan was. And that just annoyed him even more.
“I want us to be friends,” Ryan said.
Wyatt stared at him blankly. Seriously, friends? “You just hired me. I’m your employee.”
Ryan shrugged, like this was hardly a barrier to friendship. “Then you’re going to be around all the time. It’ll be great.”
“Great,” Wyatt echoed. “Yeah. Definitely.”
“You can always text Eric when you’re going to be coming back to LA,” Ryan said, “or you can always just text me. That would probably be easier. Eric is terrible at passing on messages.”
It was impossible not to remember how fucking much Wyatt had wanted Ryan’s number last night.
How disillusioned he’d been when Ryan had not even brought it up.
And now he was offering it, willingly. Wyatt, who knew just how much he and his bank account needed this job, was still struck by a petty desire to shred the contract he’d just signed.
He did not need this bullshit in his life.
Of course that didn’t stop him from agreeing, and whipping out his phone to type Ryan’s number in it.
It didn’t stop him from texting Ryan back, so that he’d have his number in his phone, and it didn’t stop him from smiling despite all the irritation swirling inside him when he left Ryan to finish signing the paperwork that would tie them together.
“You’re going to need to find a new roommate,” Wyatt said that night to Xander and Kian when he walked in the house, to watch them vegging out on the worn couch, watching re-runs of Iron Chef. The dubbed English originals. Not the execrable US remake.
He loved Alton Brown, but seriously he should have stuck to Good Eats.
“We already found one,” Kian said, barely even looking up from the TV. Someone was butchering an enormous swordfish, and he was staring intently at the process. Probably because Aquino had decided he was going to cut down all his own fish now, and Kian was desperately studying up.
“I didn’t even know when I left yesterday that I’d get the job,” Wyatt said, still annoyed.
The six-hour drive back to Napa hadn’t helped clear his head.
He’d spent the whole time trying to forget the feel of his hands on the leather seat as Ryan had taken him apart with his mouth. Or the feeling of Ryan’s mouth, period.
It hadn’t worked.
“Of course you were going to get the job,” Xander inserted with irritation. “Did you expect us to sit back and not try to find someone new when you were gonna bail?”
This was typical Xander. Usually Wyatt could brush off his abrasive comments, but he was a little tender today. “Who is it?”
“It’s uh . . . I think it’s going to be good. For us. I mean. Not for you. Probably.” Kian stuttered awkwardly every other word and couldn't look Wyatt in the eye. It made it very obvious who he was talking about.
“There’s not going to be enough room in the closet for all his shoes. Or his wine,” Wyatt said.
“How did you know it was Nate?” Xander demanded. “Did he text you to ask if it was okay?”
Wyatt had blocked Nate’s phone number the week after they’d broken up, so no, but there was a limited number of people who Xander would willingly live with, and the main thing they all had in common was that they brought something to the relationship.
Nate was a sommelier who worked for one of Napa’s larger wineries, and so had connections as well as access to pretty decent wine on a regular basis.
“I thought he was living with that new guy of his . . . Rabe? Rake? Rage? I can’t remember.” Wyatt had known he was over Nate when he had heard about him moving in with the new guy and hadn’t even blinked twice.
“Rafe,” Kian said. “And they broke up. I guess Nate found him in bed with someone when he came home unexpectedly.”
Wyatt raised an eyebrow. “Someone?”
“His boss,” Xander added. “Phillippa Winchester.”
“That must have been a shock,” Wyatt said. He was basically relieved that both Kian and Xander were more into the hot gossip that Nate’s new boyfriend was hooking up with his female boss, and that he didn’t have to discuss anything to do with his new job or his new boss.
Or that they had also hooked up.
“He was so angry, he stormed right out. Spent the afternoon drinking cosmos on the patio at Terroir. I had to practically pour him into the car and then drop his drunk ass off.” Xander did not sound pleased about this. “But the silver lining is that we have a third roommate again.”
“You’re going to hate living with him. You hated him when we were dating.” Wyatt was very happy he was not going to be around to witness any of the shit Nate and Xander were going to give each other.
“Probably.” Xander sounded resigned to this. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Just don't hook up with him," Wyatt warned, even when he knew his warning would be ignored.
Not that Xander would actually hook up with him. No. He would let Nate work for it, and then turn him down, because Xander was a dick that way and also didn't like to hook up with anyone too close to home.
At least that was what Xander had always claimed whenever Wyatt and Miles went out in Napa and tried to convince him to come with them. But then maybe he just liked being celibate. Who knew.
"Like I would ever stoop that low." Xander smirked. "So what are you moving to LA for? Chasing fame and ass like Miles?"
Wyatt scoffed. "Like I care about that." He really didn’t want to talk about his new job in LA—or who he was going to be working for. But Xander seemed determined to weasel it out of him.
"No," Xander said contemplatively. "But you're chasing something."
Stability, Wyatt thought, and Ryan Flores.