Page 22 of The Boy from Half Moon

Tyler was taken aback by my outburst and backed away from my desk. When I went back to what I’d been doing, he turned, heading for the door to his desk just outside my office.

“Hang on,” I called, feeling guilty and waiting for him to face me. “I’m sorry,” I offered when he looked at me. “I’m being an asshole and I’m truly sorry. Can you sit for a minute?” He nodded. “Close that please,” I said, motioning toward the door.

Tyler sat across from me at my desk. “I didn’t mean to speak out of turn, sir.”

I glanced outside for a moment, gathering my thoughts, before I turned back to Tyler. “What do you know about those folks in Madras?” I asked. “The ones outside of town on that religious compound, or whatever you call it.”

“Are you referring to Half Moon Ranch, sir?” he asked.

“Call me Tate, please,” I began. “And yes, those folks.”

“Religious nuts, I’ve been told,” he stated, crossing his legs and picking something off his expensive-looking slacks. “I think they’re some sort of spiritual…” He looked up and noted my frown, hesitating for a second. “Organization.”

I studied my assistant carefully. Tyler was a terrific-looking young man. Sort of an Ivy League-looking fellow. You could easily envision him playing on a lacrosse team at Princeton. Black hair, perfectly styled and slicked back, with a severe part on one side. He carried himself regally and dressed to perfection. His classic look expressed all business. I liked the Clark Kent aspect, but his slightly effeminate affectations weren’t a turn-on for my taste in masculine men.

“You were about to say cult, right?” I asked.

He nodded. “People call them Moonies. I’ve only ever seen them in their shops, but I will admit, I’ve called them Moonies too,” he admitted.

“Seems unkind,” I said. “Do they cause trouble around Madras?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” he said. “I guess their old-fashioned ways kinda freak people out. That, and they own so many businesses that I think it bothers people.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I was just wondering about them.”

“Have you met any of them?” he asked. “And not to pry, but why the interest?” he added, probably not wanting to upset me further. I didn’t respond at first as I gathered my thoughts, searching for an answer. Why was I so interested? He continued. “Like I said, and to be fair, I’ve only seen them out and about in their businesses, but don’t know anyone from there personally, so I guess it’s not fair to join in bashing them.”

“I went to their furniture store in Bend last Monday,” I revealed. “They produce nice stuff there.”

“Did you see the men that work there?” he asked, grinning like he had a secret. “They might be old-fashioned and dress like squares, but yowza!” he exclaimed, fanning his face. “My mom buys furniture from them, and I’ll admit that I have gone in once or twice on my own. She says she doesn’t care if they’re a cult, claims they design the best stuff for miles around.”

“I noticed the incredible furniture,” I admitted.

“How about the men? Did you notice any of them?” he asked. “Mom needed me to help her bring a table home once.” Once again, he fanned the air. “Damn!” he exclaimed. “Made me wanna join their cult myself.” Tyler looked behind him, forgetting he’d closed the door earlier. “There was this young guy there when I was with my mom. Tall, buzzed blond hair, buff as hell. I’d kill for five minutes with that one.”

“Was his name Luke?” I asked, remembering the workers wore name tags.

Tyler narrowed his eyes as he searched his mind. He began nodding. “Yeah, that was his name. Mom introduced me to him. I went back a couple of times. You know,” he said, emphasizing his words and raising his eyebrows seductively. “To look around on my own.”

“And?” I asked, curious to know how that had gone. As well as jealous he’d also been attracted to Luke. “Was the same guy there?”

“I’ve been back, but never when he’s working. I’m seeing a guy now, so I stopped drooling over the furniture hunk,” he said. “Besides, how fun could it be with one of those men? I’m certain they can’t be gay and live on that ranch of theirs. But the one I described, he was different somehow.”

“Did you think the one you mentioned was gay?”

“Wishful thinking,” he replied. He locked eyes with me before winking. “Are you interested in that boy hunk, Tate?” I blushed immediately and waved him off. “He’s hot, isn’t he?” Tyler pressed.

“I was simply looking for furniture.”

“But you noticed him, right?”

“Well, yeah. I guess I did.”

Tyler looked behind himself again and then leaned toward me, his hands gripping the side of my desk. “Do not tell Mr. Browning that.”

“Why would I care what Mr. Browning thought?”

Tyler leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, gawking at me suspiciously. “No need to be coy with me, boss man.”

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