Page 20 of The Butler

Jake placed his massive hand on my thigh and gave me a quick squeeze before moving his warm hand away in case someone saw us. I remained quiet and gazed at two seagulls keeping pace with our leisurely sailing as they flew overhead, probably hoping for a snack. “I screwed up,” I confessed.

“With the job?” he inquired.

“Worse,” I admitted. “The actual boss of my job.”

“Yikes. Was it bad?” I nodded and continued staring at the Pacific. “I’m sure you can fix it,” he encouraged. “I’ve heard great things about you through the grapevine, Dek.”

I turned to Jake, noticing that even this close up he was beyond stunning. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight while bright flecks of gold reflected off of his blond buzz-cut hairstyle. He was all man with a sweet disposition that let you know he was a solid guy. Rock solid to look at and with a kindness that oozed from his pores. Jake was a catch and I wasn’t sure he knew.

“I offered advice out of turn,” I said. “I’m waiting for Starr to find me and tell me what time the copter will take me to shore.” I paused and took a quivering breath that he didn’t miss. “I don’t even know how I’ll pay my way home from Mexico,” I admitted, turning red at the embarrassment of being broke.

“That won’t happen, Dek, and if it does, I don’t mind helping a bit.”

His offer surprised me. He didn’t know me from a hill of ants. “Why would you do that?”

Jake smiled and touched my thigh again, leaning into my side. “Because I like you.”

I didn’t bother wiping the tear that ran along my nose and to my upper lip. Jake was amazing to look at and just as kind to be around, but even with all of his incredible qualities, my mind wasn’t on the man who was by my side doing his best to cheer me up.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Lincoln

The room was quiet after Deklyn left the suite and I was feeling embarrassed and like a child. Dek had tried to apologize and I insisted he leave because I was incapable of being told anything I didn’t like hearing. Typical behavior of a wealthy man used to getting his way. The problem though was that I wasn’t getting what I wanted. In fact, I was losing more things and people than I cared to count. Troy, then Brock, and now Deklyn. I’d known Deklyn a bit more than seventy-two hours, so how the hell were my feelings for him even part of my misery?

Of course, my heart hurt about Troy. He’d been my life plan after our three years together. I truly believed that we were solid and he was happy with our shared life. Brock had apparently exposed that that was a lie and the break-up happened so suddenly that it was like having the rug ripped out from under me. I wasn’t prepared. I was grief stricken and it hurt like no other pain I’d ever felt.

Brock, Hollywood’s hottest action star, was a very close friend, a college buddy and confidante. We were frat brothers and I trusted him. He’d moved to California in search of fame when we were barely into our twenties. He’d landed a few walk-ons and commercials but was barely scraping by. I was living in New York City establishing my financial career but we remained close.

When my folks tragically died in a fire and I inherited their studio, I moved to Malibu and was dealing with a famous Hollywood actor that was threatening to torpedo a mega project we’d already spent tens of millions on. I was new but held all the power so I forced the director to can his ass mid-production. Investors and producers all gave me an earful but I didn’t have the time of day for this dude’s diva attitude so I fired him.

Out of the blue, Brock’s agent called me and asked if he could audition for the role because he’d be a great fit, that he understood the character, had the charisma, blah, blah, blah, so I decided to have the director give him a read and the rest is history. With my blessing and making the change from an established actor to an unknown lead, the film was a massive success, and so Brock Mann was born. Brock’s real last name was Scheitzen so I immediately had him change it to Mann. The bold name fit his alter ego to a tee. His next starring roles in big budget franchise films were killing it at the box office and how did Brock thank me for the leg-up in the industry? He came on my yacht and charmed the pants off of my life partner.

I should have gone to the gym to work out the anger, or up to the main areas of the ship to visit with my guests but I was still pissed. I’m not sure I was annoyed at Deklyn or myself. What had he done besides ask if he could speak freely? I’d agreed and then lost my shit when he did.

I stripped and headed for the shower, picking up my clothes to put them in the hamper, a task I never did. The truth was that I didn’t want Dek to pick up after me, and why the fuck was that? “He’s right, dude. You are weak and need to be the bigger man,” I muttered, reaching for the shower controls. “How’d you get so wise, Dek?” I added, turning my back to the water.

That was the crux of it really. Dek was intelligent and dared to share his thoughts with me, even going as far as to ask if he could. Troy and Dek were similar in looks and size, both devastatingly good looking, but Dek was a Stanford educated man that carried himself with purpose while still maintaining a shy quality I adored. He was articulate and well spoken and perhaps that was a threat to me, but why?

Would I have to be more than my money if we were a couple? Would he expect more realness and less Hollywood airs? And why on earth was I thinking about being a partner to a virtual stranger? Neither of us was ready for another heartbreak, right? He’d admitted to being crushed by his only love a year prior, and I was a few months past my own devastation. Two people like that don’t just jump back into the fire do they?

I stared at the opposite wall as water splashed off of my back. Here I was on my two-hundred-million dollar yacht, forty years old, abandoned by love, and acting like a love-sick teenager because a boy, my employee, dared to offer friendly advice that I didn’t like. I’d reacted negatively to that advice, an honest opinion really, and told him to get out of my room. “What a child you are,” I whispered. “Poor little Lincoln.”

A red-hot flash of anger sped through me and I wanted to erupt. I swept my hands across the built-in shelf in the shower and scattered bottles of product all over the shower, stomping on a plastic shampoo bottle near my feet. “Fuuuccckkk!” I roared. And then something happened that had never happened to me in my life, even when told my folks had perished in a fire. I slid down the tiled wall to a seated position and wept.

I cried for my parents. I cried for Troy and the man I thought had been my friend. How could they have done that to me? And I cried because I ruined a chance to get to know a kind man that had only wanted to help. Could I swallow my pride and keep Deklyn employed? I needed to start over sometime and today was as good as any.

CHAPTER NINETEEN: Deklyn

“You what?” Starr’s temples were bulging. “Why, Dek? Fuck!”

“I didn’t mean to, Starr. We were talking and sharing a glass of…”

“You were drinking with him?” she shrieked. “In his room? Oh my God, Dek. I am so fucked!”

There weren’t words of defense at that point. Starr had tuned me out and was pacing back and forth like a caged tiger in my cabin.

“I’m sorry,” I said, watching as she marched from wall to wall. I knew I’d blown it, but I’d actually thought that Linc and I had shared a moment and I was free to speak. “You’re absolutely right. I fucked up,” I admitted.

“Did you go back in later and apologize?”

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