Unobtainable (7 page)

As usual, he looked amazing. Sinfully delicious in his signature crisp white shirt and a hot pink skinny tie, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up just below his elbows, revealing strong muscular forearms lightly dusted with blond fluff. I remembered them wrapped around me.

“Thanks.”

“Are we ready?” EJ asked, sitting up a bit taller, clicking his pen. “I called this meeting because as most of you know, there are only six days remaining before Dyson’s position changes and we need to make prearrangements regarding the change in funds, shares etcetera.”

I took in a deep breath and swallowed back the urge to jump across the table and wrap my hands around EJ’s sanctimonious throat, squeezing until every ounce of life was drained from him. Then I’d make my rounds to Clayton and Tobias’ holier-than-thou asses, inflicting the same dose of venom on each of them, with a complimentary smile of course.

“I still have time,” I said, trying not to come across as too pitiful.

“It is in the best interest of this company to make sure everything is in place,” Clayton said, never looking in my direction, “Just in case.”

Way to show support
, I thought. I felt like an old scabby horse past its prime being led to the glue factory doors. I could practically smell the noxious fumes of solvent in the air.

“Just in case…just in case?” I repeated his words, my head bobbing frantically. “Let me tell you something…a friend recently told me that my brothers were assholes, I was such a fucking loser that I tried to defend you…now I know it’s true. You are assholes. You can’t wait to fuck me over, next thing you’ll be telling me is that I don’t have a fucking job either.”

“You’re out of line kid,” EJ snarled.

I took my key ring from my pocket and threw it onto the center of the table, a dramatic gesture in true diva fashion. If I was going out it was with style and grace.

“You want my car? Perhaps my lousy fucking apartment? Hang on,” I held my hand to my throat. “Let me hawk up a fucking lung for you, I’m sure my kidney and liver aren’t too badly damaged, they might be worth a few bucks on the black market.”

“This isn’t about money,” Clayton said. “It’s about doing what we have to for this company.”

“And I suppose that means my being here is not in the best interest of the company? Because I’m gay?”

There was tittering and laughter from around the table, I was again the brunt of the joke and about to go postal as Harley grabbed my arm and stood.

“Would you gentlemen excuse us? We will be a few minutes at most,” he announced.

“Sure, see if you can get the drama queen to understand we’re doing this for him,” Tobias said, in his usual condescending manner.

Harley pulled me from the room before I managed to eloquently tell Toby to go eat shit and die. He dragged me into the washroom and locked the door behind us. I splashed my face with water and stood leaning over the sink waiting to hear what pearls of wisdom Harley had in store for me. When he didn’t say anything, I turned and stared.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, he took a cigarette package and lighter from his pocket and lit one, blowing the smoke up at the ceiling fan. He was so tense, he had me scared. After all these years I didn’t know he smoked. How strange was this situation? I was the one who should be shaking in my boots and here was Harley shaking in his instead.

“Harley?” I asked.

He held up his one finger silently asking for a moment and I closed my mouth and waited. Taking another long drag off his cigarette he tossed it into the toilet, blowing out a swirling plume of smoke, the fan sucking it away.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

“Do what?” I asked, as my heart started to race, I held my breath.

“I’ll marry you on Saturday,” he said, stone-faced. “But I have conditions.”

“You’ll what?”

“No one finds out, it has to be kept absolutely private.”

“Do you know what you’re saying? Are you sure you want to do this? I thought you said…it could ruin us if you married me.”

He nodded. “I’d rather that, than tolerate your brothers treating you like a mediocre non-member of your family. You’re going to get your piece of the pie, Dyson Michaels. They’re going to find out they can’t mess with you. I’m not going to allow you to roll over and play dead while they take over. Let’s go tell them, but I do the talking, got it?”

“Got it,” I agreed, since I was too shocked and unable to think straight anyway.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” He pulled my wallet from his breast pocket. “You left this on my coffee table.”

“Oh, thank Christ,” I said, elated to have it back. “I looked everywhere for that, thanks.”

“Give me your phone,” he ordered, his tone gruff and demanding, his brows uncharacteristically creased.

“Okay,” I agreed, handing it to him, watching as he quickly tampered with it, doing god knows what. “Now you have my number and I have yours.”

“Thanks,” I smiled.

“Let’s do this,” he said, straightening his tie in the small oval mirror over the sink, his eyes meeting my reflection. “Remember I do all the talking.”

All eyes were on us as we marched into the board room, not bothering to take our seats.

“Gentlemen?” Harley greeted the room. “Could I ask anyone who is not an immediate family member to leave?”

“What’s this about Harley?” EJ asked, with his brow furrowed, a deep crease forming across his forehead.

“Just family,” Harley gazed over the men still seated ignoring EJ. “Please?”

Harley was so professional, so polished and sincere, that the room cleared in record time. I was shaking when we took our seats and Harley offered me a glass of water and a positive smile.

“What I’m about to say stays in this room, between the five of us, agreed?” Harley asked, waiting while everyone gave their word. “There
will
be a wedding this Saturday as planned, except there will no guests other than the immediate Michaels family.”

“Who did you find to marry my little brother?” Clayton was the first to ask, his lip curled into an unbelieving smirk.

“
I
am going to marry Dyson on Saturday,” Harley said, raising his chin in a strong defiant stance.

Jaws dropped, eyes bugged out and the gasps from my three brothers were ear-piercing.

“I’m doing this for Dyson, no one else. I’m not getting paid nor do I have a hidden agenda. I have not been bribed nor blackmailed into doing this. He is my friend and that is all any of you need to know. So if you’ll excuse us, I believe this meeting is over.”

Harley took my hand and pulled me to my feet, my legs felt like rubber and I wasn’t sure they were going to hold me up for long, but my heart was overflowing with admiration as well as a large dose of constricting fear, because my beautiful god was backing me as no one else ever had in my lifetime. He was the most unselfish, generous, noble man I could have wished to call my friend.

As we were leaving the room, Harley turned and glared at each of them before speaking, “By the way…we will be taking the rest of the week off to prepare for Saturday. I know you’re taking care of everything regarding the wedding EJ, and we appreciate that, but we have honeymoon plans to make and Dyson will be busy moving in to my place before we meet with your grandfather’s attorney. See you all on Saturday at five. Remember,
only
family in attendance.”

~Dyson~

“Wait,” I stopped, as Harley proceeded into his office.

When I didn’t follow, Harley came out of his office, taking me by the front of my jacket and pulling me in behind him. I dug in my heels as he shoved me forward and closed the door.

“Problem?” he asked, taking a seat at his desk and rummaging in his top drawer.

“Yeah, there kinda is,” I said, amazed that he was acting suddenly so casual. “I can’t move in with you, I don’t want to give up my apartment. Besides, if we do get married on Saturday, it won’t be the real deal.”

“
When
we get married on Saturday,” he said, taking his phone from the drawer and texting while he spoke. “Won’t the lawyer question us having two residences?”

“Oh, yeah.” I hadn’t thought of that, damned lawyer.

As Harley texted away, I studied him trying to think what it would be like to live with him. Was he a morning person, did he roll out of bed chipper or was he moody and brisk, not talkative until he had that first morning cup of brew? Did he drink coffee? Yes he did, I had seen him pouring himself a cup of coffee in the lunch room a few times.

Was he a pajama man or did he sleep in the buff? And what did he look like naked? I remembered our drunken night but the visuals were slightly blurred. My mouth curled up at the corners when I imagined a gruff and grumbly Harley and morning sex.

“Mr. Michaels,” Harley spoke, pulling me from my dirty little day dreams. “Care to share what that smiles all about?”

“No,” I chuckled, and sat down in the chair across from him. “Seriously though, I can’t just up and move, my landlord would have a stroke.”

“You have a lease?”

“No, a month to month, but still, Mrs. Grayson’s been really good to me and I’m kind of attached to the place. I’ve been living there for years. It’s quaint, it’s my little fleabag attic apartment, I moved into it straight out of college. I’ve never lived anywhere else. ”

“Well I can’t move into an attic apartment, I need room to move. My place has two bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms and it’s huge. The bonus with my place is that I have no neighbors to worry about. It’s within walking distance to work and its right downtown, everything’s right there. Besides, I own it.”

It did make sense. Everything happened for a reason, maybe it was time to move on and in six months I could find something a little more suitable.

“Let’s go to my place and discuss this, I’m not comfortable talking here,” Harley said, as he pushed from behind his desk.

“Could we stop by my place so I can change?” I asked. “I’d like to get out of this suit first.”

“Sure thing,” he smiled, standing in front of me and straightened my tie. “Let’s go.”

~Harley~

Fleabag, that was what Dyson called his apartment. I called it peculiar for a grown man to live there. It was a bachelor with everything huddled into one room with a washroom and a closet the size of a shoebox, separate from the rest. It was located in the attic of an old house on the older end of town close to the ocean. It was charming and exactly the kind of strange place I could picture Dyson living.

When he told me what his rent cost I nearly swallowed my tongue. He beamed with pride when he showed me the one feature that kept him paying outrageously. It was a large oval window that swung out to reveal the most wonderful view of the ocean. It wasn’t hard to see the attraction.

“How about we make a deal?” I asked.

Dyson looked at me apprehensively before he nodded his head and agreed to listen.

“I’ll pay Mrs. Grayson six months’ rent to appease her and you move out of here and in with me?”

“You don’t need to do that, I can pay my own way thanks…that’s actually a great idea though, I can pay my next six months’ rent in advance and then move back in when we file for the divorce.”

“No,” I shook my head, tapping my finger on the tiny kettle sitting on a hotplate. “You need to give up this shithole. It’s time to move up in the world my man, you should be living in something a bit more, executive. As a company partner you will have a reputation at stake, you wouldn’t want to bring clients here for a few drinks would you?”

Peering about my humble abode I had to admit, it wasn’t exactly
executive
as Harley put it. It was more fitting a pimple faced prepubescent than an adult. Perhaps deep down I had hung onto the place as an inspiration to stay young, grasping at my youth since I was fast approaching thirty.

“You could be right,” I agreed, and sat on the end of the bed with my elbows on my knees, wringing my hands.

“Dyson, you know I am,” he sat down beside me, mimicking my stance. “Look, you’ll have your own room with an ensuite and it even has a walk-in closet. We’ll put your furniture in storage, all you need to bring is your personal stuff and your clothes.”

Harley ruffled my hair and laughed.

“I suppose.”

“Were you going to live here the rest of your life?”

“Maybe,” I snipped.

“That’s pathetic.”

“Well, that’s who I am.” I quickly stood, distancing myself before I threw him down, jumped on top of him, kissing all over that gorgeous face and made a complete fool of myself.

“Hey,” Harley said, standing at my back with his hands on either arm. “Don’t do that,” he spun me around to face him. “You’re not pathetic…this apartment is and it’s not who you are.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, being so close to him was sending shockwaves through my body. I badly wanted to jump into his strong arms and kiss his minty lips.

“You barely know me,” I slipped from his hold and went into the washroom, turning on the tap and leaning under the spout for a drink. It was such a childish act, I had to laugh. “It’s been a long day.”

“It’s about to get longer,” Harley said, watching me through the small doorway. “Grab a change of clothes, we’ll go to my place and plan all this out.”

“You want me to spend the night?”

“I promise I’ll hold myself back, I’ll be the perfect gentleman,” he joshed.

And if I’m not looking for a perfect gentleman, then would you jump my bones?

“Okay,” I conceded.

After changing from my suit into a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt with
it won’t suck itself
on it, I packed a change of clothes and some toiletries into a backpack and slung it over my shoulder.

Harley tilted his head and glowered. “You wear that in public.”

“Sure,” I looked down at my chest. “Why not?”

“I can see I have work to do.”

“What does that mean?”

Harley shook his head, “It means we need to go shopping.”

“Don’t even,” I held up my hand, allowing my brow to knit together for emphasis. “Stop trying to change me!”

“I’m not trying to change you, Dyson,” he vowed. “I’m only trying to bring out the man in you. You want to prove to your brothers that you deserve this partnership, then dress for it. Dress for success.”

“Even on my down time?”

“Especially on your down time.”

~~~

I tossed my bag onto the bed in Harley’s spare room and looked around. It was nice, plain but nice. The entire room was neutral, the only splash of color being the red brick wall on the far left side of the room. There was a huge window with wood slat blinds that looked out at the rooftops of commercial buildings across an alley. There certainly wasn’t a view to entice.

The ensuite was great, bigger than my whole apartment. It had a large shower with a separate soaker style tub, a double sink and along with the usual white porcelain  toilet there sat a bidet. Laughing, I turned around to see Harley standing at the door with his hands in his pants pockets.

“So, what do you think? Will it do?”

“This place is nice.”

“Just nice?” he poked, with a smile.

“Okay it fucking rocks,” I said, pushing past and walking into the closet. “This isn’t too shabby either. I wouldn’t have to hang my suits in the living room.”

Harley snorted. “So that’s a yes to moving in?”

Combing my fingers through my hair, I looked over my shoulder to see Harley standing with a questioning look on his face. I walked to the bed and threw myself down, rolling onto my back.

“Yeah, what the fuck… I gotta grow up sooner or later,” I ran my gaze quickly around the room. “This is as good a place as any to grow old. Do you think in six months’ time I’ll be ready for the big bad world out there?”

“I guarantee it,” Harley said, as he walked out of the room. “Come on, we’ll order pizza and drink some beers.”

“And fart and scratch ourselves,” I quietly joked, as I leapt from the bed.

“What was that?” Harley hollered back.

“Nothing,” I tittered, knowing I would never grow up. “No onions or anything to do with fish!”

~Harley~

In the matter of an evening we had managed to work everything out, all the details sketched onto a sheet of paper that I placed in my top desk drawer.

We had put off Dyson moving in until our actual wedding day, even though it was only tomorrow. I insisted he stay the night to get a feel for the place. He felt weird about invading my space, he as much as told me so. It was crazy though, I was really looking forward to having him around. I didn’t have friends, it was complicated because I had trust issues, but somehow Dyson was different. I trusted him for some odd reason, he didn’t make me feel anxious or uneasy, and his childlike side was rather refreshing.

The only worry I had were the nightmares.

~Dyson~

Our wedding ceremony was simple. There was no march down the aisle, no fanfare that played once we finished our vows, and the party that followed was more like a casual family get together than a celebration. Although there was no love shared and it was less than a perfect evening with the threat of rain cutting it short, it was just the way I wanted it to be, intimate.

Harley and I had changed our minds about going away somewhere for a few days, it seemed silly to fake a honeymoon when everyone concerned knew it was all just a sham for the lawyer’s sake. Once we got back to Harley’s apartment, we changed out of our tuxedos into t-shirts and sweats and shared a few bottles of beer and a couple of bowls of cereal.

Sadly, I spent my wedding night staring up at the ceiling of the guest room, while my hand slipped under the covers and I pleasured myself with visions of it being Harley’s hand stroking me. Not exactly the wedding night of my dreams.

I should have been elated knowing I was now and forever an equal partner in my grandfather’s company, but all I could think about was what Harley was doing in his room right next door. I had to keep reminding myself that it was a marriage of convenience and could never be more, that in six months’ time I would move to a new apartment somewhere and file for a divorce. But until that day, I was here and had to make the best of it. The best part of all this was that I was sharing four walls with Harley Cooper, my husband, if only on paper, and my secret sexy god.

“Sleep well?” Harley asked, sauntering into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of form fitting briefs extending a cup of coffee. “The bed wasn’t too lumpy?”

I bit into the soft tissue inside my cheek to stifle a groan when my eyes locked on Harley’s beautiful package snugged in his briefs. The outline of the head on his cock pushed against the cotton fabric, pointing in the direction of the floor. My stomach clenched as I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“No, not at all,” I said, trying not to stare at his manhood nicely nestled between his thighs.

He was
healthy
, if you know what I mean. And from what I could make out without being too obvious, God had blessed the man, blessed him with a capital B. I looked over the rim of my mug and up into a pair of soft blue eyes, creased happily at the corners, with a smile on his face.

“No you didn’t sleep well or no lumps?” he tittered, after catching me.

“No to both.”

“Did you get yourself something to eat, there’s still cereal left,” he said, taking a box of Fruit-Loops from the cupboard.

“No,” I answered, downing the last of my coffee.

“Dyson, if we’re going to be living together for the next six months, you better work on expanding your vocabulary.”

“Tell me you don’t survive on cereal alone?” I asked, as I filled my mug and offered Harley a mug too.

“I haven’t had time to shop,” he said, burying his hand into the cereal box and pulling out a fistful, “besides, I like cereal,” he crammed it into his mouth like a disobedient child.

“Sugar laden crap is more like it,” I said. “How the hell do you stay so healthy, eating that shit?”

“Cereal is one of my only weaknesses,” he said, “that and Chivas when the mood takes me.”