Page 6 of Scout

“White cheddar, brie, Monterey Jack, and gruyere on sourdough bread. Mayo and butter on the outside and fried to perfection. Gourmet comfort food at its best.”

“Smells like it.”

Scout grinned at the compliment. “So, do you like the job so far, compared to your old one?”

Alex was glad he didn’t have to lie. “I like it a lot. You have a different way of doing a few things, but nothing I can’t adjust to. It’s a beautiful hotel, and your employees and guests seem to love it. Do you mind if I ask how you got into the business?”

“Not at all, but let me take care of this first.” He turned off the stove, carried the frying pan to the table, and then used a spatula to place a sandwich on each plate. “Sit.”

Alex obeyed the command as Scout dumped the pan and utensil into the sink and turned the water onbriefly before joining him at the table. After taking a pickle spear and a scoop of the slaw and adding them to his plate, Alex cut his sandwich in half and picked one up. He was aware that the other man watched him take the first bite. A burst of cheesy deliciousness hit his taste buds, and he couldn’t help but moan in delight. Scout just laughed and then took a bite of his own sandwich.

Alex chewed and swallowed, nodding the entire time. Before he spoke, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Holy cow, this has to be the most incredible grilled cheese sandwich I’ve ever had.”

“Ass-kissing the boss isn’t necessary, Alex.”

“Trust me, that wasn’t an attempt to ass-kiss. This is really,reallygood.” He took another bite and noticed a pleased expression on Scout’s face. The man seemed relieved that his assistant liked the meal he cooked for them. Alex wondered what it would be like to sit there, having breakfast with Scout after a night of raunchy sex.

Nope, don’t think that. He’s off-limits, Shepherd—if you want to keep your job, that is!

“So, you asked how I got into the hotel business,” Scout said after sipping his soda.

“Mm-hmm.” That was all he could say with a mouthful of food.

“My dad’s got a successful real estate investment company—condos, townhouses, private neighborhoods, stuff like that. Growing up, I got to do a lot oftraveling all over the US and Canada for Dad’s business, then to other countries for vacations. My parents aim to visit as many of the world’s greatest cities and places as possible before they die. My two younger sisters and I were on our third passports by the time we hit our twenties.”

“Wow. And I’ve never been out of the States except for Canada and a few trips to the Caribbean.”

“Yeah, well, since we spent so much time traveling, I began using my own system to rate hotels and restaurants. At first, it was just for fun. I kept track of all the little details that made a place unique—things that weren’t common everywhere we went. Then, as I grew older, I realized what I could do with all that information.

“With my dad as a backer, I bought my first place in Santa Ana when I was twenty-six. Long story short, I flipped it for a nice profit two years later. By then, I was hooked. The next one I invested in, I kept. That was the beginning of Turner Continental. Ten years later, here I am, getting ready to open my seventh hotel, with a few other ventures under my belt too.”

Alex swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, almost disappointed it was all gone. “That’s fantastic. You found something you loved to do and created a successful business from it.”

“So, what about you? How’d you get into the hotel industry?”

“Honestly, it wasn’t my original choice of majors.When I first got to NYU, I wanted to get a business admin degree. We lived in New York until I was fourteen, and I missed it enough to want to go back there for school. To help my folks with the tuition and other expenses, I got a job at the Roxy in Tribeca as a bellman. Made good money in tips and started learning more about the business. I switched majors after two years but kept biz admin as my minor. Graduated and ended up at the Four Seasons.”

“Then you ended up here.” He lifted his glass of soda and held it up in the air. Alex clinked his glass against Scout’s as the man continued. “Well then, here’s to new beginnings. Glad to have you on my staff.”

For some unknown, messed-up reason, Alex’s brain altered that last sentence, and he almost choked—Glad to have you on my shaft.

Four

Six weeks later . . .

It wasn’t even five in the morning yet, and Scout already pounded away on the treadmill in his home gym, sweat pouring off him as he tried to expel a few demons from his brain. Like almost every day for the past month and a half, he’d woken up hard as stone with his PA’s name on his lips. Never had he fantasized about one man, who he’d never even kissed, for this long before, and it got worse as time went by.

Last night, Scout stayed up late, playing the piano, something he did often when indecision plagued him. He had an eclectic mix of favorite composers and songwriters whose songs he could play by ear. A little Elton John, Billy Joel, or Carole King tended to soothe him whenever he was in a funk, while Beethoven, Mozart, and Jerry Lee Lewis were his composersof choice for his personal form of anger management. Yanni, Norah Jones, and John Tesh were his go-to artists when he was in a romantic mood. Maybe he’d try a little bit of Ludwig, Wolfgang, and Jerry Lee tonight since Elton, Billy, and Carole hadn’t worked.

He’d tried several things, short of dragging the man into his bed and fucking the daylights out of him, to keep thoughts of Alex where they belonged—in the business-only section of his mind. So far, nothing had been successful. The horny toad on his shoulder urged him to give in to his lust. But the workhorse on the other side kept telling him not to rock the boat and ruin a good thing.

Alex was an excellent PA—the best Scout had ever hired—and it had nothing to do with the man’s good looks or how much Scout was drawn to him. It hadn’t taken Alex long to get into the swing of things—he picked up on the routine around there quickly and got along well with the other Paradox employees. If Scout told him to do something, his assistant got it done with minimal effort or explanation. He was always on top of things, sometimes even ahead of Scout’s orders. A few times, Scout kiddingly called Alex “Radar” after the character inM*A*S*H,who always knew what would happen before it actually did.

It amazed Scout how comfortable he was around Alex—if one didn’t count his perpetual hard-on. Many afternoons, they enjoyed lunch in Scout’s penthouse, discussing everything under the sun. Hell, he’d rarelybrought Erik up there for any reason, but with Alex, it felt right. They had much in common and interesting debates on things they disagreed on. It’d gotten to the point that Scout hated to see their lunch breaks end and work start up again.

He noticed he was in a sour mood in the mornings lately before Alex showed up and brightened his world. And at the end of the workday, more than once, he invited Alex to dinner at Sapphire’s or the Cock & Bull—anything so not to say goodnight to the man. However, he drew the line at asking Alex to have dinner at his place. With lunch, they needed to go back to work afterward, so Scout had a reason not to start anything, but with no plans after dinner, he’d be tempted to seduce his PA. Nope. He wasn’t going there because it was a recipe for disaster. He just had to keep telling himself that, and maybe, someday, it would sink in.

Ever since he found out for certain that Alex was gay, or at least bisexual, he fantasized, both day and night, about having the man naked and at his mercy. During one of the happy hours they attended at the pub, he overheard Alex talking to Gino about a guy he’d dated in New York for about eighteen months. They broke up about two months before Mrs. Shepherd had her stroke, and it was the nail in the coffin, so to speak, that helped him decide to move back to the West Coast. Apparently, it hadn’t been ahealthy relationship for Alex—the ex-boyfriend was extremely needy—and he was glad it was over.

---