Page 5 of Burn It Down

“Nice place,” he says, shaking my hand.

I want to bristle, but I don’t hear any sarcasm or condescension in his tone so I try to relax.What is it about this guy that sets me on edge?

“Thanks. You got the keys?” He places them in my hand, but hesitates with his fingertips resting on my palm before letting them go. “I’ll take good care of her. I promise,” I reassure him.

He shakes his head. “It’s just a car. I’m not worried about it.”

I snort. “Spoken like someone who has an extra hundred grand to lose.”Damn Dylan, calm the fuck down.

He’s looking at me like he did in the grocery store and I wish I knew what that look meant. His gaze is almost calculated, like he’s rehearsing every line in his head before saying it aloud. He takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising with the gesture inside his fancy suit.

“Spoken like someone who’s glad they didn’t drive their ’69 ‘Vette to Dave’s Discount Mart last Monday.”

My eyes bug out of my head at his statement. Less over the fact that he owns my dream car, and more over the fact that he seems to be aware of how much it’s worth. “You know cars.”

“I know a lot of things,” he replies defensively, calling into sharp relief my asshole attitude.

I blow out another breath feeling like this encounter needs to end before this guy decides he doesn’t want me touching his car and I end up owing him some outrageous price for dealership repairs.

They’d fuck this car up anyway.

“Right. Well, I’ll give you a call when she’s ready.”

I watch him climb into the passenger seat of an Audi SUV I hadn’t seen pull in behind him. A pretty woman with shoulder-length blonde hair sits at the wheel and smiles at him as he buckles up. I wonder what it’s like to have so much assurance and security in your life. I bet Jacob Ellington has never woken up wanting for anything.

Chapter 3

Jake

Iwant an I.V. of caffeine so badly I can hardly stand myself. I’ve been up since three-thirty this morning on a conference call because Lester Hollingsworth III didn’t give a shit about the time difference from the east coast of the U.S. to Japan. Not to mention, I was on-call at the fire station the night before last and I never sleep when I’m there.

Add in tryingnotto picture that sliver of Dylan’s tantalizing skin I saw yesterday and I’m basically a strung-out zombie.

The call with Lester didn’t go as well as I’d hoped and trying to sleep now would be useless. Instead, I grab a shower so I can head into the office.

Willing myself to get it together, I follow my regular routine, swinging by the coffee shop in the lobby of my family’s building. But when I go to pay for my salmon bagel and Americano, I realize I left my wallet in the Maserati when I dropped it off.

“Can you charge the corporate account, Lucy? I left my wallet at home.” I smile at the sweet barista who is always so cheerful even when she has to serve egotistical assholes like my father.

“No problem, Mr. Ellington.” She beams and hands over my daily breakfast.

“How are things going with Jason?” I ask Lucy about her recent boyfriend not to be nosy, it’s important to me to know everyone in this building from the janitors to the baristas to the IT guys to the board of trustees. My name is on the building and my father and I have very different ideas of what being a leader looks like.

I want these people to look forward to working for me one day, not dread it and abandon Ellington Wealth Management the first chance they get.

“They’re great. He took me to a Brave’s game this weekend because I mentioned I’d never been and have always wanted to go,” she says happily.Good man, Jason.

The toaster dings and Lucy finishes preparing my bagel before handing it over.

“I’m glad to hear it. You make sure he keeps it up, yeah?”

“Thank you, Mr. Ellington. I will.”

On the elevator ride up to my office, my brain conjures up my interaction with Dylan. I wish I wasn’t so fucking awkward around him, but I haven’t acted on a crush since boarding school and I’m a little rusty.If only it was as easy as a Brave’s game.

Not that it would go anywhere orcouldgo anywhere…it’s pretty obvious Dylan’s straight. And yeah, I know you can’t always judge a book by its cover, but there are usually signs. And trust me, I was lookinghardfor any sign.

The silver lining is that him being straight makes him safe territory. Kind of like flirting with your best friend’s wife. You know she’s off-limits and he knows you’d never cross that line, allowing you to be a little more open, a little more relaxed, a little less reserved.

---