Page 8 of Hoodoo House
“Thank you. I’d…I’ll need to rent something. Do you mind if I take the rest of the morning off?”
“No problem. And charge it to the company.”
As Charlie turned to leave, Declan called out, “Stop.”
He beckoned Charlie with his finger. When Charlie got to Declan’s desk, his boss motioned for him to come closer. Charlie’s heart pounded. When he stood an arm’s length away, Declan reached up and plucked a large flake of pastry off of Charlie’s shirt, then popped it into his own mouth and sighed.
“Gwen’s pastries…so good, and so evil,” was all he said.
Charlie sailed back to the outer office and noticed a flashing light on the phone. He picked up the receiver, pressed a button on the phone and listened to the message. It was from someone named Sinclair Yamada who wanted to discuss a potential case with Declan. Charlie tried calling back, but it went straight to voicemail. He left a message, then quickly placed a call to the gay business association to tell them that Declan would be honoured to accept their award. Charlie added that Declan would be accompanied by his partner. He purposely failed to elaborate on the term. Charlie grinned as he headed out of the door.
Time to go and rent my tuxedo and glass slippers for the ball.
* * * *
Declan sat at his desk and stared out through the window. He’d invited Charlie to a ball. Declan had to admit that the thought of taking Charlie somewhere on a date had been crossing his mind more and more. The look on his face when he’d asked him…he was certain he’d seen tears.
But he had promised Charlie that their relationship would be business-only, and he had promised himself that he’d respect Charlie’s wishes. And in spite of how much Declan hated a public fuss, he would go along with attending the awards ceremony for the sake of the business.
He looked back at the framed portrait of the teen. “What do you think? Do I really deserve this?”
Chapter Two
One of the perks that came along with being an award winner was the use of a rented limousine. The driver picked Declan up at the office, then drove the short distance to where Charlie was living.
Declan rang the doorbell for the second-floor unit of the modest, neatly-kept two-storey detached house. Carrie, Charlie’s roommate, answered. Declan recognized her the moment she opened the door even though they had only met once before. Carrie looked Declan up and down, then smiled.
“Looking good,” she said, nodding her head. “Come on in. Charlie’s still getting ready.”
She led him up the stairs and into the living room.
“I don’t know what’s keeping him. He never takes this long to get ready. Can I get you a drink?”
“Thank you.” Declan took a seat on the couch. The room was filled with over-stuffed furniture that was far from new. The couch was covered with a hand-crocheted afghan, and the rest of the furniture had a sense of second-hand-chic. It was a comfortable home. Carrie came back in with a couple of glasses of wine. She gave Declan one then took the chair opposite him.
“So…Declan. That’s Irish isn’t it?”
“Yes. My mother’s family was Irish. I was named after her father.”
“It’s a beautiful name.”
“Apparently it means ‘man of prayer’, although my father claims I don’t have one. A prayer, that is.”
Carrie smiled.
“I hope the same won’t be said about Charlie. As I recall, the last time you picked him up here, you brought him back in rougher shape than he left.”
Declan remembered the night he had driven Charlie back home from Airdrie after his second undercover mission.
“I can promise you that tonight will be a party compared to that.”
Declan realized that they were no longer alone. He looked towards the hallway, and there was Charlie, perfectly handsome in his tuxedo, every hair on his head tamed into place. He was the vision of an angel. Declan had to remember to breathe.
Carrie turned and let out a near-silent “Oh my God.”
“I hope I didn’t keep you,” Charlie said.
“No. Not at all.” Declan couldn’t take his eyes off of him.
