Page 29 of The Butler

“I am a man that is tired of being fucked over by those I love and maybe, just maybe, it’s me that needs to change a few things,” I confessed. “What do you think of that news flash, old buddy of mine?”

Bob spun around and then leaned back in the chair, letting out an exhausted exhale. He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. Began again, and once again stopped. I’d stumped him. The silence in the room was deafening. He stared at me and tilted his head like he’d just seen an alien. Maybe he had. I was going to change, and I had my reasons.

“I’m having computer issues. Get tech on it please,” I said, changing the subject before I gave up my true thoughts while trying to not focus on his news concerning Brock and Troy. I’d moved to the bar behind him because I didn’t trust myself to keep a level head at the moment. Brock was just being insensitive when he pilfered my boy, but this move from the duo was downright spiteful.

Troy had never asked me to be in a film and I could have easily made that happen, so I figured this was Brock’s way of waving their relationship in my face. Well, fuck him. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his move. Changing on my part would take growth and I obviously had a lot of that to do, but I was proud I kept my mouth shut in front of Bob and hadn’t reacted negatively.

“That’s all you got?” I asked.

Bob stood and stared at me for five seconds before speaking. “Are you okay, Linc?”

“I’m getting there,” I answered softly.

Bob walked toward the door and stopped before opening it. His back was to me when he spoke. “And you’re really okay?” he asked, still facing away as he waited for a revelation he wasn’t going to get from me.

“I’ll see you tomorrow to discuss the Italy trip, Bob.”

He stepped out of my stateroom and I picked up the glass jar of nuts, rolling it around in my hands. “Fucking assholes!” I raged, throwing the jar across the room. The jar thudded against the wall, not breaking, and dropped to the floor with little fanfare. So much for a calm demeanor.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Deklyn

After getting Mr. C. settled into his morning and delivering his breakfast, I was about to excuse myself and go back to my cabin.

“Bob is coming for a meeting at noon. Can you have some apps and drinks available for us?” he asked.

The way he asked me to do the task made me feel that he was reluctant to continue to separate the staff member from his current fuck buddy. It was as if he felt bad requesting I do my job. We were getting along brilliantly, and I didn’t want to confuse my feelings for him with the fact that I needed the money and that we had entered into this side-thing purely for sex. We had agreed that the sex was temporary, and it would help us both get over other people. I planned on sticking to the agreement.

“Of course, sir,” I said. “I’ll be in my cabin if you think of anything special you’d like.”

“I’d like you, Dek.”

“You’ll have me after dinner, sir.”

“This is just sex between us, right?” he asked, leaning back in his chair as his hands went behind his head. His lower lip was in a fight with his teeth as he moved his jaw slightly back and forth.

How do I answer him?

“Of course it is. Just like you wanted and I agreed,” I said. My hand was on the door handle behind my back but I hesitated exiting his room as I attempted to read his face. We stared at each other intently. I knew I had other ideas and perhaps he did too, but neither of us said the words. I couldn’t risk, let alone afford to speak first and possibly be out of line. He wouldn’t or couldn’t.

“Thank you, Dek.”

I smiled weakly, but it wasn’t how I actually felt. I nodded and stepped backward out the door, hoping he may have something additional to add.

He didn’t.

* * *

“What the hell is the boss doing in there all day?” Starr asked when she came to my cabin about thirty minutes after I’d left Lincoln’s suite. “And who’s making your bed so early in the morning?” she asked. I’d noticed her eyes scanning the room for evidence of whether I was sleeping here.

“I do,” I lied. “It’s my job, Starr. Why the third degree?”

“You haven’t been anywhere but the galley and then down here in yours or Mr. C.’s room. Aren’t you going stir crazy yet?”

“He’s keeping me busy. You know these billionaires and how demanding they are. Most can’t even wipe their own asses,” I said.

“I have never been on the yacht with Mr. C. and seen him hide out like this, Dek,” she said. After waiting to see if I had anything to contribute to her fishing expedition, and finding I didn’t she dropped it.

“Any luck with First OfficerStudmuffin?” I asked, quick to move the topic from the man I was currently screwing next door.

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