“This time your dining experience for two with this handsome
bachelor will be right here at the Ritz.”
Again the bidding began at a grand.
Immediately it was accepted.
Sophia kept signaling to Braxton to do something. When he
figured it out what she was miming, he went pale. Take off my
shirt? Are you kidding me?
The bidding stalled at twelve-hundred and Braxton heard the
auctioneer trying for another few hundred. Braxton began
unbuttoning his shirt, trying not to scowl, since this was not
about sex, it was about charity. Suddenly this was a strip act.
Instantly the crowd went mad, whooping it up. Braxton took
off his shirt and tossed it behind him.
“There we go, ladies and gents! Have a look at the
merchandise!” The auctioneer laughed and said, “Look at all
those paddles raised! We got, twelve-hundred, thirteen,
fourteen!”
Braxton ran his hand over his chest, and his nipples grew
erect from the nerves and chill. He ran his hand over his hair and
shook out his mane, resolved to just get this fucking charade
done.
“Three thousand, three thousand! Last and final offer! Sold to
bidder twenty-one!”
Braxton again tried to see through the chaos. A handsome
man in his twenties licked his lips at him as if indeed this was a
hookup. Braxton didn’t know what was worse, the old geezer or
the stud who wanted a fuck.
“Last chance to win a date with our handsome PR man, here,
and this time it’s for two at the Café La Boheme. Can we again
start the bidding at a thousand?”
No one opened the bid. Braxton assumed they were bored and
ready to move on to the cruises and artwork. He wasn’t about to
take off his damn pants!
“Five hundred! Start your bids at five hundred.”
A dozen paddles were raised.
Braxton was exhausted but moved closer to the tables, even
walking among the diners as if he were a stripper looking for
people to shove cash in his crotch. He smiled, pretended this
wasn’t utter humiliation and the bidding began to rise.
This time it hit two grand and Braxton was standing right in
front of a young woman, whose eagerness to get her paws on
him was obvious. She appeared to be with her parents, but was
certainly not underage, maybe just young twenties.
“Sold to the young lady, number one-eight-four!”
Braxton caught her clapping happily and looking back at her
father who had obviously been the banker behind her bids.
Braxton waved politely to all the occupants of the banquet
hall and headed out of the room through the same door he had
entered. Sophia was there, clapping her hands in glee. “Ten
thousand dollars, Braxton!” She hugged him and he was so tired
he nearly fell on her.
He was given his shirt and jacket, tie, and a card with the
dates and times of the gift dinners, which all were this coming
week, one right after the other, Monday through Wednesday.
“I’m toast, Sophia. I have to get home.”
She kissed his cheek and said, “Go. I am so happy!”
He tried to smile but the thought of being someone’s blind
date, three of them, was not making him as happy as it made her.
But…he had raised a lot of money for a good cause.
Tugging his jacket on over his unbuttoned shirt, Braxton
made for the lobby to look for Scott and as he did he took his
phone out of his pocket and turned it on. There were a dozen
missed text messages and voicemails. He ignored them and put
the phone to his ear. “Hey, buddy. Time for me to go home.”
“Right outside the door, Braxton.”
He hung up and left the hotel, seeing the stretch limo waiting
and Scott opening the door for him.
Braxton dropped into the back seat and closed his eyes.
“How did you do?” Scott started the car and they began
making their way to Santa Monica.
“Made ten grand.”
“Damn!” Scott laughed.
“Three fuckers bid on me. I’m dreading these dates.”
“Hell, just hang out for the meal and split. That’s all you have
to do.”
the phone and I get all backed up.” He stared out of the window,
his headache had returned.
“Hire someone.”
“I intend to.”
~
“Oh, my sweetness,” Fabian said as he hugged Naomi. “I had
a wonderful dinner.”
“Anytime. Just call me.”
“I know. Should I walk you to your car?”
“I’m right there.” She pointed.
“Okay. Call me soon.” He waved and walked to where he had
parked, a few blocks away. It was dark and cool out, very
breezy, and many people were still lingering in the area for late
dinners and clubbing. It was after ten and although Fabian had a
great time, he felt slightly empty as he walked alone to his car.
He aimed the key fob at it, and unlocked it, then sat behind the
wheel and started it up.
As he did, he thought about Braxton and wondered just how
much money a person would pay for a chance to sit across a
dinner table and stare at him.
Exhaling tiredly, Fabian suddenly wished he’d had a better
attitude at that interview. Maybe he could be the one to get paid, to stare at Braxton over a desk.
“Oh well, fucked it up.” He headed home and tried not to get
depressed again after such a nice night out.
~
Scott opened the limousine door and reached out his hand.
Braxton took it and was hauled out of the car and into his arms.
He leaned against Scott’s chest and enjoyed his handsome good
looks. “Wanna come up?”
Scott appeared shocked. “Damn. Just made plans. Can’t
cancel. Been wanting this man’s ass for ages.”
“I don’t want to know who.” Braxton held up his hand and
made a move to stand apart from Scott. He never invited men up
to his place. He must be very lonely indeed.
Scott drew him close and Braxton moaned, yearning being in
the arms of a man, and felt his cock swell as Scott groped him
between his legs.
“Next time.” Scott touched Braxton’s nose playfully and
walked around the car, climbing in and driving off.
Braxton watched the car vanish. “How bad is it when a whore
like Scott Baldwin won’t fuck me?” He shook his head and
opened the lobby door with his key, making his way to his unit.
Once inside, he stripped off the tuxedo, changed into a pair of
gym shorts, and grabbed a white carton of leftover Chinese food
in the refrigerator to reheat. He was beyond hungry—he was
dizzy. As he stood over the sink, eating the noodles and chicken
with chopsticks, he thought about the week ahead. Between the
workload and these three ‘dates’ he wished he could hop a plane
to London and vanish for a few months.
He needed help.
He needed Fabian.
Still chewing his last bite, he texted Brianna,
‘ did you hire
him yet? ’
She immediately called.
Braxton swallowed his mouthful of food and put the
container on the counter. “Hey.”
“No, I thought I’d call him Monday. Why are you home? Is
the auction finished?”
“No. It’s still going on, but my gig was.”
“How did you do?”
He opened the fridge and removed a bottle of water. “Raised
ten grand for three dates.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Nope.” With one hand holding the phone, he used his teeth
to open the plastic bottle, spit the cap into the sink, and gulped
the water. “One for five, one for three, and one for two. They
progressively lost interest.”
“I doubt that. I bet it was the venue. Ya know, the places they
were going to dine as well.”
Braxton didn’t think of that. “Well, I got one old geezer, one
stud who looks like he’d be the first one in the men’s room to
suck a cock, and a very young woman, whose parents bought
me.”
“Uh oh. I’d be more afraid of the last one. That has marriage
written all over it.”
“You’re funny. You know that?” He leaned back on the
counter and looked at his noodles that were in the white carton.
“I’m lonely, Brianna.”
“Aw… You need to date people more than once, Brax!”
“I know. I just don’t like anyone enough to go out again.
Christ, if they get on my nerves in one day…”
“You’re too much of an A-type. You have to slow down or
you’ll have a coronary.”
“I can’t. I have too much work to do. I simply can’t.” Braxton
stared at the food and tossed the remainder out. He sat on his
sofa and slumped over. “I need Prozac, don’t I? Like something
to calm me down?”
“I don’t know. But you need to stop trying to do everything.
Look, do you want me to see if I can get in touch with Fabian
now to ask him—”
“No. Not late on a Saturday night.”
“I can just email him so he has it in the morning. I don’t mean
call.”
“Can we? You think he can start on Monday?”
“He had a temp contract. Didn’t you discuss when it ended?”
“Didn’t you ask him on the application when he could start?”
“I think he wrote ‘immediately’ but they all do that.”
“Fuck.” Braxton ran his hand through his hair. “Yes. Email
him. I don’t want to lose him.”
He heard Brianna giggle.
“You know what I mean. The man is overqualified and,
well…”
“Gorgeous?”
“He’s probably straight. Or seeing someone. Just because
he’s not married doesn’t mean he’s—”
“Braxton.”
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t you take a long hot bath and rest? You’re about
to have a stroke.”
“I have three dates next week with people I don’t even
know!” He closed his eyes and cringed.
“Dinner. You just have to eat a meal. Okay? Maybe you do
need Prozac, or valium, or Xanax…”
“Okay.” He held up his hand. “Enough. Just email him.”
“Will do, boss. And congrats on the ten grand. Wow, that’s
just unbelievable. Think of all the cash you raised for cancer
research. At least give yourself one pat on the back.”
Braxton smiled. “Thanks, Brianna.”
“Good night, Braxton.”
He hung up and looked at his phone. A dozen text messages
were there. One by one he checked on them to make sure no one
was in crisis…like he was.
~
Fabian was lounging in his sweats and T-shirt, his laptop on
his knees as he sank into his sectional sofa in front of the TV, his feet propped up on the coffee table. He was catching up on
emails and the social sites when an email popped into his box
from PRTodd.Brianna@BraxtonTodd.com.
Fabian’s heart began pounding as he realized who it was
from. Opening it, expecting the usual kiss off, he had to slow
himself down because he read it and couldn’t believe it.
‘ Mr Rhys, I am happy to offer you the job of assistant to Mr
Todd, beginning Monday or at your earliest convenience. Please
be in touch with our office as soon as possible to accept this
offer or to let us know you have decided not to join our team.
Regards, Brianna Cambridge
cc: Braxton Todd.’
“Are you shitting me?” Fabian reread it again. “You’re
offering me the job?” He blinked and stared into space. “Do I
want to work for a dick like you?”
Fabian opened up a link he had saved of a photo of Braxton,
shirtless, looking absurdly handsome.
“Oh, hell yeah. Who am I kidding?”
Fabian checked the time and wrote back. ‘ Yes. Thank you
very much for accepting my application. I’ll see you first thing Monday morning. ’
Did he give a shit about the temp job? No. It was going to end
in a week, so screw them. This was permanent employment.
And…he was going to work with Braxton Todd…the man
people paid to get a dinner date with.
“Ha!” Fabian laughed loudly and rested his head on the sofa,
smiling.
Chapter 6
Monday morning, Fabian dressed in a brand new suit. Not only
did he feel nervous, he’d spent all day Sunday shopping for new
clothing. He had to look the part. He stood in front of the full
length mirror that was inside the door of his walk-in closet and
fussed with his shirt collar and cuffs, checking the cufflinks were secure, touching his hair. “Christ, I feel like I’m going on a first date.” He threw up his hands in defeat, made sure he had
everything he needed and left before he hit heavy traffic between
West Hollywood and the downtown core. On his way, he called
the temp agency.
“Hi, this is Fabian Rhys, sorry for not giving notice, but I got
a full time job offer beginning today.”
“Okay, Fabian. Thanks for calling and letting us know. Good
luck.”
“Yeah. I’ll need it.” He hung up and focused on the traffic,
looking up at the sky and wondering if it would rain. It certainly
seemed threatening.
After a half hour he pulled into the parking lot of the high-
rise building and searched for a parking spot. He had to pay for
the parking and wondered if as an employee he would get a pass
or have the amount added to his check. It was a hell of a lot of
money to spend out of his own pocket every day.
He pulled into a tight space between a cement pillar and a
minivan, checked his phone for text messages, and headed to the
elevator. The sensation of butterflies in his stomach was driving
him insane. Riding up to the tenth floor, he walked into the lobby
of the small office to see Brianna on the phone. She smiled
brightly and pointed to a cardboard holder with three cups in it.
Covering the receiver of the phone she said, “That one’s a tall
latte. You like?”
“I do!” He was very pleased and removed the cup from the
ho
lder. As she spoke he noticed not only two other coffee drinks
but a yogurt parfait with fruit and granola as well. He allowed
her to finish her conversation, sitting on one of the leather seats near her desk and though there were magazines on the low table
beside it, he didn’t reach for one. The front cover of a glossy
weekly tabloid had a photo of Alexander Richfield and his new
husband, both wearing black tuxedos with a caption that read,
‘ Alex tied the LAPD SWAT knot! ’
Married. The thought of marrying a man crossed Fabian’s
mind quite a bit. But his Mr Right had remained elusive.
Just as he had that thought, Mr Todd entered, appearing
rushed but fabulous, carrying a briefcase. The scent of his
cologne made Fabian’s mouth water.
Brianna, still on her call, tilted her head to Fabian, since
Braxton did not see him sitting there. Braxton spun around and
Fabian stood and reached out his hand. This time the touch was
electric to Fabian. “Thanks for hiring me, Mr Todd.”
“Call me Braxton. And you’re welcome. You won’t thank me
when you see the amount of work you have to do.” He released
the clasp, picked up the cardboard carrier with the coffee and
yogurt and entered an office, shutting the door.
Brianna finally ended her call and said, “Okay! Paperwork
for the payroll and taxman, then I’ll train you to take care of
these celebs. How does that sound?”
“Fine.” Fabian was still reeling from the coldness from
Braxton.
“Come here. I’ll show you your office. It’s been vacant for
ages, and I’m so glad to have it filled again.”
Fabian followed her down a hall. At least someone
appreciates me. He sipped his coffee and entered a small but well lit room with a view out of the window of the buildings
across the avenue. The walls were bare and Fabian wondered if
he could add artwork to cheer it up. A large flat screen computer
and multi-line phone were on the desk.
“Okay.” Brianna gestured to the black swivel chair and
Fabian sat. “I’m going to send out your email address to all our
clients. Be prepared, we have a ton of them. That way you can
begin fielding their requests, helping both Braxton and I out.”
Fabian set his cup down and unbuttoned his suit jacket. “Let’s
go. I want to hit the ground running.”
“You have no choice!” She laughed. “Log on. I already set
you up with a password.”
He faced the screen and tapped it to wake up. “Go for it.”