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    Mrsgnomie
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Still You Want Me - 1. Chapter 1

* * COLIN * *

It’s the 3rd day of April and the day I’ve been waiting for. I’ve spent my whole life preparing for this job.

Nine months ago, and after far too many years, I graduated from Columbia University, but I walked away with a Master of Business degree, a Master of Marketing degree, and a Bachelor of Arts degree in Accounting.

Today’s my first official day at ClarkeCo Enterprise. They’re the largest manufacturing company with creation stations (manufacturing plants) in twenty-three countries. They convert someone’s vision into quality products that are sold all over the world. Manufacturing isn’t the only thing they do, but it’s the reason Clarke & Co has been a Fortune 500 company for the last ten years.

They’re also the largest online printing service, the third largest shipping and delivery service, and the sixth largest distributing service of goods and products. ClarkeCo Enterprise rankeS among the five best companies to work for based on competitive salaries, amazing benefit packages, work environment, and employee value.

The company’s been growing a lot, during the last six years and they’ve recently expanded several departments, including marketing. I’m good at marketing…very good. I love the company and I’m passionate about what they do, which is why I'm really excited to start. I’m also nervous because I feel an insurmountable pressure to perform.

Shit. To add to the nerves, my pits are sweating and I don't have deoterant. Fuck, not much I can do now.

I inhale deeply as I prepare to cross the threshold. Just as I’m about to take my first steps toward my new career when a stranger strides alongside of me. He looks straight at me, hits me full force with his incredible smile, and reaches for the doors.

Please, don’t open them for me. Please, Lord Jesus, let me be invisible.

“Hey. I don’t recognize you. Are you one of the new hires?” He smiles with a confident smirk…or cocky smirk? I don’t know, but his blue eyes could charm the venom out of a snake.

I finally get a decent look at him. The stranger is not quite as tall as I am, but almost, maybe five feet, ten inches? He has blonde hair, dark blue eyes, and appears to have a nice body under his suit and tie. He’s not unattractive by any means. Actually, I’m sure the general population would be quite taken by him. He has the look a person gets when they’ve always been attractive and they know it. It comes off as confident, and maybe it is, but it’s confidence that comes from having it easy. People love confidence. They eat that shit up as if it’s Cheerios.

“Yeah, I guess you could call me a new hire,” I say, not looking directly at him. Instead, I keep my eyes forward and my hands in my pockets because his confidence makes me nervous. He allows the door to close behind us and falls back into step with me as I smile and chance a glance at him. “Thanks.”

Damn. He really does have great eyes. Shit. I quickly break eye contact because I’ve learned you can’t give confident guys an inch. They’ll take you for all your worth and then drop you like a hot potato.

He extends his hand. “No problem. I’m Charles Gabett.”

Gabett? That name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it. Gabett? Hmmm. I glance up and take his hand. “Colin.” I hope my hand isn’t too clammy. I quickly realize I should have wiped my hand on my pants before shaking his hand.

“Welcome to ClarkCo. July will be two years for me, but I kind of own the place so I’ll take you under my wing and show you the ropes. I’ll give you a leg up around here.” His eyes are charged with confidence as he winks at me.

He kind of owns the place? Seriously? Total eye roll. I’ve seen this before. He’s so special, or at least he thinks he is. He does a sweeping gesture of the area.

“Well, this is the lobby.”

Aw, thank you, Captain Obvious. I’m so glad you’re helping me navigate this vast maze called the open lobby.

Charles greets each colleague by name and a handshake and introduces me, if the encounter allows it.

I realize two things about Charles. Firstly, he’s been doing this longer than two years. He works the lobby with precision and smiles enough to be sincere, but also limits each conversation so it’s short and sweet. He remembers personal anecdotes such as family member’s names, pet names, and sports teams. Things he can use later, such as, how was that game last night. Brutal, right. Or, how’s Spot doing with those obedience lessons? Nothing that will demand too much explanation, but allowing each person to feel special and remembered. I’ll bet Charles has been socializing since he was a child and I’ll bet my life he’s from a wealthy business family.

The second thing I realize is, no one knows my name because he’s introducing me as the New Hire Guy. This makes me smile, which he notices. “What’s so funny?”

I don’t want to start work as the geek or weirdo. I also don’t want to give him too many personal anecdotes that he’ll use against me. “Uh, nothing. It’s stupid.”

“No, now you have to tell me. You can’t say that and keep it a secret.”

“You’re always calling me New Hire Guy and it reminds me of the television show, The Office.” I shrug, trying to downplay my obsession, yet I keep talking. “Ryan starts a fire and everyone ends up calling him The Fire Guy.”

Charles lets out a loud laugh. “That’s exactly why I started calling you New Hire Guy. Also, The Office is my favorite show.” He reaches for a high five, which I reciprocate.

He likes The Office? Well, he can’t be all bad.

I see Deb sitting at the same spot as she always does, behind the long, semi-circle, information desk. Charles grabs my elbow and leads me to her as she smiles with a glint in her eye. I mentally cross my fingers. Please don’t ruin this for me. She looks at Charles and smiles, most likely expecting his charming ways.

He winks at me. “Hey there, Deb. This is the New Hire Guy. I mean, Colin, one of the new hires. I’m showing him around and taking him under my wing.” He appears to be as proud of himself as a kid with a brand new toy.

She laughs and reaches for my hand. She gives me a squeeze and an all knowing look. “Well, hello, Colin. It’s so nice to meet you.”

I don’t hold back my smile, but I do hold back my laugh, it’s harder than I expected pretending to not know someone. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“Deb is the lifeline of this place, so you definitely want to stay on her good side. Remember that.” Charles winks at Deb and receives her famous eye roll in return, along with her wholesome smile. It doesn’t look like even Debs exempt from his charm, it’s hard not to be hit by his magnetism.

She winks at me as Charles drags me through the lobby to the elevator. Yeah, I’m familiar with this place. I’ve been here a few times before…give or take.

As we wait for the elevator, I take a moment to notice him again. He’s wearing a dark-grey suit, which he wears very well. I know an expensive suit when I see one and I’m looking at one right now. I look away before he turns around because I don’t want my colleague to see me checking him out, although it’s completely platonic. I’m not interested in him for anything more for several reasons.

“Let me guess.” He studies me. “Marketing?”

I nod the affirmative, and he smiles. Awe, swoon. I mentally cross my fingers behind my back and hope he’s from any other department than marketing. Please, please, please? It’s not that he’s tempting or that I’m actually interested in him. I simply don’t need any useless distractions such as his pretty face.

“Me, too. We have a great team up there.” His eyes take me in. “And it’s about to get better.” He presses five on the panel and leans his shoulder against the wall before he continues to impress himself. “Marketing’s on level five along with Research and Development. Level two is accounting and Finance. Level three is Distribution and Production. Level four is Human Resources and Purchasing. Level six houses all the conference rooms. And level seven is where the offices are for all of the big wigs, including Mr. Clarke, himself.”

Yeah, yeah. You know all the floors. So do I.

“Thanks.” I point to the panel on the wall and say. “I see each floor is labeled. That should make it easy to remember.” Feeling smug because I’m able to keep his ego in check, I grin and he blushes as the older woman next to him tries to hold back a laugh.

“Man. You know how to knock a guy down, don’t you?” Quickly recovering from his moment of embarrassment, he laughs and places his palm across his heart. “The elevator might be labeled, but I am very familiar with this place. I promise.”

Cute.

“I graduated almost two years ago and landed a job here right away. My dad knows Mr. Clarke and was able to get me in the door. Don’t get me wrong, I’m qualified, but my dad loves to use his connections.

“How does your dad know Mr. Clarke?”

“They’ve done business together in the past. My dad is CEO of Gabett Enterprises and they’ve been pretty close friends ever since they met. Our families get together regularly for dinner and such. I would’ve worked for my dad and started higher than where I started here, but I don’t like Chicago and I wanted to try out the Pacific Northwest.”

Gabett. I knew it sounded familiar. It’s a big East Coast name. Old money and new money combined, this kid’s a total TFB. Trust Fund Baby. Ugh. My nightmare.

“Gabett, huh? That’s a pretty big name. You probably don’t need to work with a trust fund like that.” I’m not asking, but simply making a statement. I’ll bet his dad makes him work.

“I suppose not. But my dad wants me to work so here I am. I have to keep dad happy.”

Bingo.

I nod. “So, friends of the family, huh? That’s cool and I’m sure it gets you all kinds of special advantages around here. Is that why you, kind of own the place?”

The elevator door opens to level five and he laughs in amusement as we step out.

“No. I was expecting something, but Mr. Clarke doesn’t roll that way. It’s a bummer, too. He could build future relationships by greasing special wheels, but he doesn’t. Eventually, I’ll be running Gabett Enterprise, but he doesn’t seem to care.”

He sounds annoyed, but I can’t tell for sure. I’m sure he’s used to being treated above others because he’s a Gabett and has probably has a life of special treatment, especially since he’s a golden child. I’ll bet if he ever messed up, it was quickly erased. Money can make that happen. Vamoose.

I laugh and raise a questioning brow. “I’m sure he has kids you can grease up and prime before a massive coup d'état?”

He playfully bumps my shoulder. “I like the way you think. He does have a son. I haven’t met him, but I’ve seen pictures of him all over their house. His parents make him out to be a pretty stand-up guy, though, so I don’t foresee Coup d'état in our future.”

Suddenly, Brett Marks stops in front of us. He’s a nice guy, in his fifties, six feet tall, all dark features, and average in every sense…except when it comes to work. This guy’s a marketing genius and there’s a reason he runs the department. He’s very good at what he does.

“Hey, Brett. This is Colin, the New Hire Guy in our department.”

I firmly shake hands with Brett while holding eye contact and pleading with my eyes. Please, don’t.

“Hello, Brett. It’s great to meet you.”

He stares at me for a split second before he recovers. “Same here. It’s nice to meet you, too. Why don’t you come with me for a minute before you get started?” He looks at Charles and nods. “Thanks for bringing in the new guy. Go ahead and finish wrapping up the Steinbrenner project and report to Kevin after you’re done.”

I look at Charles and give him a smile. “Thanks for the warm welcome and for making me feel at home around here. I’ll see you around the office.”

“You’re not off the hook that easy, you’re joining me for lunch today. There’s a great little taco place a few blocks down. Meet me here, he gestures to where we’re standing by the elevator, at twelve sharp and, since it’s your first day, I’m buying.” He leaves before I can say anything. It’s not that I would’ve said no, but I am feeling somewhat uncomfortable about it.

I enter Brett’s office. It’s the same office he’s had for the past eleven years. The only difference is a few updated pictures of his family and two new black labs.

“Stan.” Brett wraps me in a giant hug. I’m physically larger than him, but he has me feeling like the small shrimp I was the last time I saw him. Brett laughs and points to a chair. “Sit down. It’s been too long. Seriously, Stan, I’ve been counting down to this day and you’re finally here.” Brett’s smiling widely at me. He’s always had a way of making me feel good and he’s very much like an uncle to me.

“Yeah, right. I bet you say that to all of your new hires.”

He rolls his eyes. “No, only to the annoying ones.” He pauses. “How long do you think this will last?”

We both know what he’s referencing to. I shrug and palm my lap as my nerves are suddenly on edge, again. “Hopefully, for a while. I don’t know. It depends on you and all of the old timers. I don’t plan to spoil anything, not for a while anyway, so don’t screw this up. Which you will if you keep calling me Stan. I haven’t gone by Stan since high school. It’s a stupid name anyway.”

Brett raises his arms in surrender. “Hey, hey. I haven’t messed up, yet, and I only called you Stan in the privacy of my office.” He shifts and won’t make eye contact with me because he knows he’s likely to mess up, soon.

Bastard.

“We all understand why you want to fly in under the radar. You’ve been around here since you were a kid and we all love and support you. You are family.” He’s trying to be understanding, but his reservations are obvious. “I don’t know. You have so much support here, you could’ve easily come here and be my boss if you’d wanted to. Plus, you’d start out with your own parking space.”

I drum my fingers on the desk. “I don’t have a car so I don’t need a space.”

“Buy a car.”

“Stop. You know me better than that.”

“You’re right. I do.”

“I hate you. You’re an asshole.” I flip him the bird and we both laugh.

“Anyway, enjoy the anonymity while it lasts. I’ll give it one week because there are too many people here that love you so it’ll be hard for them to let you walk around like a stranger. With a cute face like that, who can blame them?” He reaches over and pinches my face, as an old bitty at a church bizarre would, and gives me the once over. “By the way Sta…Colin— What happened to you? You. Look. Great. I haven’t seen you in, what, five years? Maybe six? Puberty finally hit you like a Mack truck, I might add. You were of the small, shrimp variety when you graduated high school. To be honest, I didn’t recognize you when you stepped off of the elevator. If Charles hadn’t been so eager to introduce you, I’d still be staring at the elevator door and anxiously awaiting your arrival.”

“So, that’s the real reason you didn’t blow my cover. You’ll mess up before anyone else. I know it.”

“Maybe. We’ll see, but I’m trying my hardest not to, scout's honor.”

He raises two fingers for a salute. I have no clue whether it’s Boy Scouts or not, but it’s funny.

“But seriously, you look great. It’s going to be hard to keep the boys off of you. I don’t know everyone in the office, but if you’re interested, I do know two guys who are gay.” He looks hopeful that I might accept his offer.

I fiercely shake my head no. “It’s my first day and you’re trying to set me up with a colleague? Not a chance. No way. Never. I’m not going to date anyone from the office. I only want to work here. I’m not interested in making things complicated.”

Nope. Nope. Nope.

He innocently looks at me.“We’ll see...You know, Charles is a pretty fun guy. He comes from a similar background so I’m sure you’d have a lot in common.”

I actually have to laugh at the idea. “Shut up, you. I’m nothing like Charles. He’s everything I can’t stand. Don’t get me wrong, he appears to be nice enough, I guess, but he’s your typical TFB who only knows money, power and privilege. Everything is disposable to him so I’m not interested.”

“He’s not that bad. Maybe he’s entitled and flaunts his money status, but he’s here, he works hard, he’s smart, and he has potential. But you’re right, his biggest downfall is men. Charles appears to get around…a lot.”

We both cringe. I’m not down for any hump and dumps. I don’t want to be a notch on anyone’s belt or a nightcap prize. Brett and I talk for a while longer about family and life before he finally dismisses me. I’m super excited to start something challenging and I’m hoping to prove myself as valuable and gain the respect of my colleagues.

The next three hours fly by and I’m having fun and enjoying the work. Everyone appears to be nice and I feel completely welcome. One of my colleagues, Bethany, is a year older than I and has worked here for three years. Bethany’s five feet, six inches tall, has an athletic build, brown hair and brown eyes. She’s a silent beauty, meaning she doesn’t throw it in your face. In fact, nothing about her is harsh, she’s kind, funny, and humble. Everything I want in a friend.

I’m hoping to work through lunch and coincidentally avoid Charles, but I find out lunch is mandatory unless things are chaotic due to deadlines and such. Unfortunately, for me, today doesn’t qualify so I invite Bethany to lunch as I’m hoping for...I don’t know, an ally? She gives me a serious look as the corner of her mouth curls up before she says.

“Oh, no. You’re on your own with that one. We’ve all had lunch with Charles. He’s a harmless show off. Have lunch with him and get it over with.” She gives me a good luck smile and walks off.

Bitch. Ugh.

I walk to the elevator, and sure enough, Charles is waiting for me. He looks up from his phone and grins. “Hey. You’re late. Let’s go.”

I look at my phone, it’s only three minutes after noon. Give me a break. We make small talk as we walk out of the building and until we arrive at a small Mexican restaurant three blocks down. Most restaurants in Portland are small, including this one. There’s eight tables and none of them are very big. This isn’t a place for business meetings or groups larger than three people.

As I look around, I notice the atmosphere is very authentic and the food looks amazing.

 

* * CHARLES * *

“I’m going to order for us today, if that’s okay with you? It’s taco Tuesday, so it’s an…obligation. I’ve been to Mexico, a few times, and these are as real as they come here in Oregon.” I look at Colin for confirmation and he nods his approval for tacos. Juan, our waiter, arrives, looking as annoying as ever.

“Charles. Tuesday’s usual?”

I confirm. Juan looks at me, then at Colin, and does a double take.

Colin is a strikingly beautiful man. He’s the poster child for perfect business casual attire. I’m sure, if you’d search Pinterest, you’d find a picture of him. He’s somewhat taller than me, six feet or maybe six-one? His brown hair is full of natural highlights and perfectly styled for business. His big, hazel doe-eyes, along with thick, black lashes, pull everything together. I want to eat him.

He’s wearing tight, dark jeans, a grey button-up shirt, and a dark-grey blazer. Everything about him is casual. I doubt he ever tries too hard, which makes him more attractive. I don’t think he realizes the effect he has on people…specifically, me. Juan looks at me and I instantly dread what he’s about to say. I mentally pinch the bridge of my nose as I brace myself.

“Is this the reason you were busy this weekend? If so, I forgive you.”

Really, Juan? This isn’t professional at all. I’m at a business meeting. I hooked up with him once…six months ago. It was clearly a mistake.

Colin almost spits his water out. He obviously thinks Juan’s comment is funny. I, however, do not. Half teasing and half wanting Juan gone, I say, “No, Juan. He’s only a colleague. Now go start our tacos.”

Colin looks at me with amusement. I don’t know how I feel about this. I mean, I don’t want this to be his first impression of me. Trying to play it off and still keep my confidence intact, I roll my eyes and chuckle.

“It’s not—”

He raises his hand to stop me. “Let me guess. He was a one-time deal, a while back, and you can’t shake him because he works here and they have the best tacos.”

Well, yeah. I nod my head with defeat as I confirm his guess. I decide to challenge him and up the ante a little. “Ok, mister know-it-all, give me your full profile analysis. Bring it on.” I gesture for him to come at me with everything he has. I’m amused and don’t think he’ll actually pinpoint me.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

I nod and raise my brow. He leans back and loosens his tie as if to prepare for a total take down.

“You were born into wealth and business. Your father was gone a lot so your mom pretty much raised you, and you probably have one sibling…a sister?”

I nod.

“You always had whatever you wanted, friends in school came from similar backgrounds, and they were all like you—rich, good looking, cocky, drove the best cars, had the biggest parties, and bedded all of the girls, or boys, you wanted.”

I give him a knowing smirk because yeah, it’s true. He smiles.

“You probably didn’t hang-out with anyone beneath you and you were accepted to a good college. Maybe you had decent grades, but your college was chosen because it was your dad's Alma Mater and you were in the same fraternity as your dad. You know, connections.”

He shrugs like, duh, obviously.

“Everyone wanted to be your friend because you had unlimited funds, unlimited friends, and unlimited lovers.”

He stares at me for a moment, holds up one finger to let me know he’s not done, yet...he’s thinking... “You’re not gay, you’re bi. Or, at least, you were bi in college…equal opportunity, right? Sex is sex is sex. You’re a trust fund baby and my guess is, your daddy generously paid your way through college. You had partial access to your trust fund after graduation, but you have to work for the rest of it because daddy wants you to know the value of a dollar. You’ll, eventually, get full access to it in the future. You probably have a ridiculously expensive apartment and a stupid expensive car. Two Rolexes, nay, three. And, you work-out four days a week because image is everything.”

He sits back, with his arms crossed, and waits for my response. I don’t know what to say. He pretty much nailed me on the head. I look at him for a moment, then I laugh.

“Okay, okay. Wow, you’re not bad. It’s not perfect, but apparently I’m pretty easy to read.” I eye him, skeptically. Maybe he already knows me. Is he a stalker? Ha, I wish.

As he smiles, he shows his perfect teeth, perfect lips, and perfect face. He’s so cute. “Where was I wrong? You know, for future analysis.”

“I’m not bi…anymore. I figured out, during my sophomore year of college, girls weren’t for me. I have a house instead of an apartment and I have four Rolexes.”

There, that usually impresses people. Tapping his fingers together in the universal hashtag sign, he laughs.

“Good, God. Basic-rich-kid.”

“What about you?”

I want to know more about this hottie because there’s something about him that’s grabbing my attention. I also want to deflect this conversation away from me because it’s not exactly highlighting my best qualities. He grins.

“What about me? Take a shot at me. Profile me.”

I laugh. “No way. I’m terrible at reading people and I don’t know you enough to start. All I know is your name is Colin and today is your first day at ClarkCo.” Actually, I am good at reading people, since that’s been part of my upbringing. I can’t read him, though, and it’s driving me crazy.

“What do you want to know?”

Our food arrives and I divide the assortment of tacos between our two plates.

Knowing I can’t ask, I think. Do you like men? Do you like me? “Anything, I suppose. Where are you from? College? Family? What car do you drive? Hobbies? Where do you live?”

“I’m from Portland and went to Columbia University, on the other side of the country, on an academic scholarship. My parents still live here. I have no siblings. I don’t have a car, but I need to get one because the public transportation is a joke. I’ve been so busy with school, I haven’t had much time for hobbies or anything else, for that matter. Although I’ve been doing some DIY lately and I like that.”

Without taking my attention away from the tacos, I casually ask. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He half jokes. “What part of or anything else was confusing for you?”

I quickly raise my hands in surrender and he smiles. It’s not really an answer so it’s time to fish further. “What about in college? Did you have a girlfriend then?”

I don’t want to be obvious, but I want to know who he bats for. I can’t get a good read on him. Hopefully, he’s gay, but he’s most likely straight. He shrugs and says.

“I haven’t dated much. I’m not into one night stands, and most people in college aren’t looking for anything serious, so I decided not to waste my time.”

Oh, God. He’s one of those high virtue types, but I guess that’s…cute?

“Ok. So you’re twenty-something?”

“Twenty-five.”

He’s older than I’d expected.

“Okay, so you’re twenty-five and you’ve never dated anyone?” I’m surprised because he’s so incredibly attractive. Something about him draws people in. He draws me in. How could he not have a line of people waiting for him?

“I didn’t say never. What about you? Do you have a lot of boyfriends? I mean, besides Juan?” He teases me by flashing me the most delicious smile. Normally, I have no qualms about discussing my promiscuous nature, but suddenly, I’m very aware it might cast me in a negative light.

“Um, not too many. I mean, not too many boyfriends. Don’t get me wrong, I’m well versed in physical relationships, but I like to keep things simple.” Keep things simple? That’s not the message I want to convey to him. I mentally berate myself for saying that.

“Honestly? I figured that much. You appear to be a love-them-and-leave them type of guy. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, only that it’s your thing. Different strokes for different folks.”

He looks genuinely indifferent about the situation and finishes his tacos. He has me pegged perfectly, but that’s not what I want to be, at least, not to him. This type of thinking is foreign to me, so it’s terrifying.

“So, where do you live? In Portland proper?” he asks.

“I live in Lake Oswego, where my parents own a house, and the commute sucks, but I guess it’s not so bad in my stupid expensive car.” I tease with a smirk. I hope I’ll charm him with my humor and wit. He claps his hands together and laughs.

“Ha. Of course you do. I can’t believe I didn’t guess that. Charles Gabett would live in Lake Oswego.”

I laugh, too. He’s so adorable, I don’t care that he’s burning me. “Do you drink coffee?" We still have thirty minutes left for lunch and I’m hoping to spend the entire time with him.

“No, I’ve never acquired the taste. I like tea, though.”

He’s gathering his jacket and leather messenger bag as I almost trip over my chair. “What? You don’t drink coffee.” I’m shocked. It’s rare to meet someone who doesn’t like coffee. For me, it’s a lifeline…I need it.

“Nope. It’s not my thing.”

He thanks me as I hold the door open for him. As we walk beside each other, he bumps his shoulder against mine and my heartbeat quickens from the unexpected contact.

He’s still profiling me and it’s making me feel uncomfortable. I don’t know why, but suddenly, I’m feeling very self-conscience. “Let me guess. There’s a Starbucks or Dutch Brothers right down the street.”

“Yeah. So?”

He grabs his heart and cringes with exaggeration. “You’re so basic, it hurts. Do you have an original bone in your body or do you follow the sheep over the cliff?” He’s mocking me, but there’s no malice behind his words. Again, I don’t know how to respond. It’s as if nothing I do is good enough. I know it’s not true and I know he’s only teasing, but that’s how I feel.

My bruised ego speaks. “You’d think there’d be more choices around here, but there’s not. There are three Starbucks and two Dutch Brothers, unless you want to go five blocks down? Go ahead, I won’t stop you.”

I don’t actually want him to leave me, though.

He appears surprised at the lack of small coffee shops. “What? It’s Portland. They have more local businesses than any other city. Anyway, Starbucks is fine. Actually, both of these companies started in the Pacific Northwest. Starbucks started in Washington and Dutch Brothers started in Oregon.”

We stop at Starbucks and I try to pay for his drink, but he refuses. I’ve never had this problem before as most people welcome my generosity. We walk back to work in relative silence. I’m not being as talkative as usual because, strangely, I’m nervous and afraid I’ll say something stupid. Again. Uncertainty and hesitation are not qualities I’m known for.

Colin thanks me for lunch and we part ways on the fifth floor. I wish we were working on the same project. I want to know him, I want him to like me, I want to see him laugh, and I want to make him laugh.

Except, I don’t need to be spending more time with him at this point. What I need to do is get my confidence back. I try not to watch him for the remaining work hours, but he doesn’t make it easy. He looks hot when he’s focusing on his work, when he’s laughing with Bethany, and when he’s earnestly listening to his colleagues.

Dang. Everything he does is sexy.

At five, I walk to the elevator, stay back, and let the first group go down. Mostly, I’m waiting for Colin. He doesn’t appear to be in a hurry to leave, though, as he’s slowly gathering stuff from his desk. When the elevator dings and opens, he looks at me and I nod for him to come.

I’ll hold the door for you, it’s no, problem. I think to myself. He shakes his head no, but mouths thank you.

Ouch. Rejection? After riding the elevator down, the door opens and I see Colin is ready to walk out of the front door. How did he get down the stairs and across the lobby so fast? He must’ve bolted because that’s five flights.

I try to catch up, without being too obvious, but by the time I cross the lobby and walk out of the doors, he’s gone. So, I walk to the parking garage, hoping to spot him on the way, but alas, no sign of him. I tell myself I’m not disappointed, but I am.

 

* * COLIN * *

I have an apartment close to work in downtown Portland. Normally, an apartment would be stupid expensive because the housing in Portland is insane, but this place was a total dive. I was mortified the first time I walked through. I thought I might need a tetanus shot…no joke.

My best mate Glen, from college, had inherited it, along with a couple of other apartments from his grandparents. He couldn’t see its potential and didn’t want to invest any time or money to make it livable or sellable, so he let me to buy the dump for pennies on the dollar. Perfect. I didn’t want or need anything fancy, and I love DIY shit. I needed a break between graduation and jumping into work anyway, so I bought the building and got started.

My upstairs apartment was actually only part of the building. Underneath me was a vacant business location that needed TLC and then it could provide some income revenue. Since it was a commercial area, there’s no yard, but I was lucky enough to get a small, single-car garage with it. Parking downtown is horrendous so having a garage was going to be a lifesaver. I was currently looking to buy a used car because the public transportation on the west coast is nothing compared to New York.

Anyway, I spent nine months, between graduation and now, fixing up the apartment and business space. Honestly, I didn’t expect it to be so hard. Naïve was me.

One too many DIY shows had me feeling pretty invincible. I’d watched so many YouTube tutorials, I know my clicks and views made those vloggers rich. I ended up hiring out more work than I’d anticipated and went, significantly, over budget. I did do a lot of work myself, though, and since I got the building so cheap, I was still saving a ton of money. My apartment’s not completely done, of course, but it’s good enough for now.

**

I love my apartment. The big windows, in both the living room and the kitchen, are not quite a wall of windows, but almost. You can see the beautiful view of the streets and buildings of downtown Portland. The way the area is set up almost gives me a panoramic view. I even have a peek of the Willamette River.

The kitchen has a window facing the street, a little bar with two stools, and it’s where I have tea and an English muffin with cheese spread for breakfast each morning. I can see work from the window. One draw about this apartment, besides the price, is the fact it’s only a block away from work. I didn’t want to mess up my business rental so I ended up hiring professionals to finish the downstairs so things would be done according to code.

Months ago, I received sixteen serious inquiries from potential businesses. I narrowed those down to four and then, finally, to one.

Greg and Degen have been working, non-stop, for the last month to get things ready for their business. The opening of their coffee shop bistro (my favorite thing) is supposed to be next Thursday. They’re going to serve local Stumptown coffee, Jasmine Pearl tea, and a menu of mostly locally-sourced food for breakfast and lunch.

They’re best friends who have always dreamed of running a business together. They love supporting local, small businesses and give generously to the community. It’s been fun watching their dream become a reality and I’m hoping to get people from the office to become regulars.

I pack lunches most days, but I’ll definitely eat there when I can. I’m passionate about supporting small businesses because they’re the lifeblood of the community.

I finish my breakfast, throw on my tie and jacket, and I’m out of the door. It only takes me about ninety seconds to walk to work, but I decide to leave a few minutes early so I can talk to Deb…privately.

* * *

Deb looks up and smiles. She’s trying to hide it because we don’t know each other. Deb is in her fifties by now, she has super curly, black hair, eyes so dark they’re almost black, and the palest skin you’ve ever seen. Her husband works a few blocks down the road at an accounting firm and they have a daughter, Natalie, who’s my age.

Natalie and I have always been close and she’s been helping, a lot, with the renovations on my apartment. If I were into things like fag hags, then she’d be mine, but I’m not so.

Deb’s been here for as long as I can remember. She used to let me help transfer calls, shuffle paperwork, run all of her errands, and do most of her grunt work. I loved spending time with her and I'll admit I'm a little too excited to see her every day.

“You’re here. You’re finally here," she whisper yells. "Oh, my. I get to see your face every day.” She looks at me for another minute before she leans in. “Holy body change, Stan. You’ve grown a whole foot and gained a hundred pounds. You’re unrecognizable.”

“Close enough. Brett said puberty hit me like a Mack truck and I suppose he isn’t totally wrong.”

I’m blushing. I hate it when people talk about my transformation. I was barely five foot, three inches tall and ninety pounds when I graduated high school. I was small and goofy with shoulder-length, brown hair and hazel eyes, which I hid behind glasses. I think we all thought I was doomed to be small forever, but half way through my freshman year at Columbia, things started changing.

It was so awkward for me because my friends joked that I was Heimlich (from A Bugs Life) when he transforms into a beautiful butterfly. It wasn’t exactly a perfect reference, but we all had a good laugh from it. To this day, they still call me Heimlich.

Actually, I don’t know how tall I am. Roughly six feet, I think? And I never weigh myself. I’m not bulky with muscles and I’m not super slim and I traded the long hair for a more professional cut and contacts have replaced the glasses.

“No kidding. Well, you look great, kid.” She looks around and then leans toward me. “Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me.”

I leave Deb’s desk and start walking across the lobby when I see Charles. He’s doing his morning routine of making contact with each person. Schmoozing. Boy, does he look good doing it. Everyone lights up around Charles. He makes them feel as though no one else is in the room and then he moves on to the next person. Rinse and repeat. I don’t normally like the Charles’ of the world, but I decide to step into stride with him anyway.

“Morning, Charles. How was your commute?”

Why am I smiling like a fool? Oh, gawd, stop.

His lip curls with humor. He’s never going to drop this because he’s a money baby and they like their things. “Wonderful. You know, with my stupid expensive car, it’s always fun.

“Whatever makes you happy, man.”

We ride the elevator up with a mass of other employees, we say goodbye, and I walk toward my desk. The morning flow is smooth because my team is awesome and we all work great together. I especially like working with Bethany, which is good because we’re currently on the same project. She’s incredibly smart and fun to be around.

Before I know it, we’re off for lunch. Bethany has a lunch date already, so I go with Jonathan and Daniel, who are also in marketing. They’re both a few years older than I and fun to be around. It’s obvious they're friends outside of work, also, and have been for a while, because they’re always referencing things no one else understands. We walk a few blocks to a nice-looking, high-end burger restaurant that smells delicious.

We leave work later than usual so the restaurant has already filled up considerably. Jonathan spots Charles at a table with Sharon and Derek, both of which are project managers. “Dudes. Let’s try to sit with Charles.” He looks at me. “He’ll totally pay for lunch.”

“I don’t know. They’re already doing their thing. I’m fine waiting a few minutes for our own table.”

It’s not that I don’t want to sit with Charles. Instead, I have no interest in sitting with him because he’ll pay for my meal.

“No, it’s all good. It’s his thing and he loves it.” He walks over to their table and asks if there’s room to join. Charles looks at him, then glances at me, and smiles.

“Absolutely. Grab the extra chairs from over there and join us.” He’s obviously happy to have the extra company. I think he loves being the hostess with the mostest.

Burgers and drinks are ordered for everyone at the table. Charles leans back in his chair and motions for the waitress. “Go ahead and put all of this on one check. Thanks.”

Charles is in his element when he feels confident, wanted, and in charge.

Jonathan and Daniel are as happy as clams to know their meal ticket is going to be paid for by Charles. I don’t think they’re intentionally being rude, but Charles has definitely invited, and nurtured, this type of behavior. Regardless, I find this behavior by a group of adults (to be considered okay.) as very annoying.

Charles is looking at me. I don’t know how to describe it other than…he’s won something? Maybe he’s proud of the fact the people at this table are taking advantage of him? I have no idea.

After the drinks arrive, I immediately grab my soda and walk to the counter. I need to do something about this situation. “Hey, I think this is diet and I ordered regular.”

I hand her my soda and give her an apologetic smile. I am sorry because the soda isn’t wrong. I only needed an excuse to talk to her.

She looks genuinely embarrassed. Ugh, I’m a terrible person. I’ll tip extra. “Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I poured a diet.”

The tag on her shirt indicates her name is Beth. “No worries. It happens. Seriously, Beth, it’s not important.” I try to comfort her with a smile, which she returns tenfold. “Hey. Um, there’s something else I wanted to, um, ask you about.”

I don’t know why I feel so hesitant to ask, it’s not that serious. Her head quickly jerks up and she looks very surprised as a small, shy grin spreads across her face. She’s pretty cute…for a girl. In her early twenties with short auburn hair in a stylish but messy bun. Beth eagerly nods for me to continue with my question.

“Um, I know that guy said to put everyone on one check, but do you think you could put my order on a separate check? I want to pay for my own lunch.”

Her smile immediately drops and the expression on her face becomes blank.I feel the need to explain myself, so I lean closer because I don’t want Charles to hear me. “I mean, I don’t like feeling as if I owe people and he already bought me lunch, yesterday. You know? I hope it’s not a big deal. I’ll even tip extra so it’ll be worth your while.” I give her my best pleading and begging eyes and pouty lips. She smiles and rolls her eyes.

“Ok. Yeah, no problem.” She continues to smile and her brown eyes lock with mine as she hands me my soda and I take a drink.

“Perfect. Thank you so much for the soda...and for the favor.”

I wink and walk back to the table. Charles appears suspicious to say the least. “What was that all about?”

“I was served diet instead of regular so she kindly replaced my drink.”

Lunch is great and everyone’s having a good time as we take turns sharing stories and laughing. Jonathan is taking baby bites of his burger so, in an attempt to hurry things along, Daniel starts pressuring him to eat faster. Jonathan jokingly fires back.

“Fine. I’ll just shove it all in.”

Simultaneously, Charles and I yell, “That’s what she said.”

We can’t hold back our laughter and we proceed to spend the next ten minutes quoting and doing impressions from The Office. Then another ten minutes sharing our favorite Office meme’s, which always leaves me crying. It’s nice to have a friend who shares a passion for The Office.

 

* * CHARLES * *

Colin shows up with a couple of other guys from the office and they end up sitting with us. We spend the whole lunch talking and laughing. I’m able to inconspicuously flirt with him while we hysterically joke over a shared love of Michael Scott. This is the best lunch ever.

The waitress hands me the check and then beelines to Colin, which I’m not excited about. He flirted with her at the beginning of lunch. He said he got the wrong drink, but I was watching him closely and he didn’t even take a sip before he returned it to the counter. His intentions were obvious. I have the answer to my question…he’s, obviously, straight.

The waitress puts her hand on his shoulder and whispers into his ear. She smiles when Colin laughs and pats her hand that’s still on his shoulder. Get off, bitch. Then she hands him a check.

Since I’m generously picking up everyone’s tab, I’m confused. “What’s that?”

“It’s my bill. I don’t expect you to pay for my lunches.”

Da the fuck you will. “It’s not a big deal. I’m already paying for everyone else.” I wave my hand, summoning the bill.

“Come on, hand it to me and I’ll add it to mine.”

“I’ve got it. Thanks, though, I do appreciate the offer.”

He slides cash into the binder and allows Beth to snatch it with her evil little fingers. Why do I feel like he’s personally rejecting me? I leave lunch feeling the same as yesterday, crappy.

I don’t know if Colin senses my mood change or not, but he hangs back as we leave the restaurant, then walks shoulder to shoulder with me down the street. He has his hands in his pockets, again. His mannerisms and body language are never threatening or dominating. Yet, I feel intimidated by him.

“Hey?”

He forces me to look at him by giving me a gentle shoulder bump. Since when does something as simple as a shoulder bump cause such a strong reaction from my body? And why do I feel as though he’s constantly trying to touch me?

“Hey.” I smile back. I’m happy he’s next to me, but I’m still struggling to hide my disappointment about lunch. I know he’s straight, yet, I’m frustrated because I can’t get his attention.

“Just so you know, I meant no disrespect by paying for my own lunch. Honestly, it’s strange that I’m feeling I have to justify it. I’m a grown ass man.”

“I know you can afford to buy everyone’s food and I know you enjoy doing it. Obviously, everyone else is okay with that arrangement but I’m not. Charlie, you can’t buy my friendship. If we’re going to be friends, it’ll be because you can put up with my ugly face every day and I find your dull personality charming.”

Yeah, you’re so ugly. How will I ever manage having to look at you every day?

“If you want to have lunch, that’s great, but we go dutch or we trade paying…you buy, I buy. Anything less than equal isn’t a friendship that I’ll be a part of.”

He’s serious. He doesn’t want to be friends because of my money? This is something new.

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah. Are we good?”

We stare at each other for a minute. Looking into his eyes is so overwhelming, I finally have to look away.

I nod and accept his terms. I can’t help smiling because I feel good. He makes me feel good. I look at the small grin on his face for a moment and wonder what he’s thinking about. I can’t help hoping it’s me.

God, he looks so good. That small smirk on his face, his perfectly parted and styled dark hair, and those big eyes are nothing compared to his body. He’s wearing Khaki slacks with a grey sweater. It’s so simple, but it does so much for him.

This man wants to be my friend? No strings attached? Yeah, I guess that’s cool. I mean, I’d like a couple of strings, but this is okay, too.

As we cross the lobby to the elevator, Colin bumps my shoulder. He still hasn’t removed his hands from his pockets.

“I’m going to say hi to Deb. I’ll catch you later, Charlie.”

Charlie? No one calls me Charlie. I usually nip it in the bud because I’m not a Golden Retriever, but when Colin says it…well, I don’t hate it.

I regretfully watch him leave. I’m half-tempted to say hi to Deb just to stick around but I don’t want to look desperate or clingy. Two things I’ve never been and have always hated.

I’m starting to feel as if I’m always trying not to watch him. I should be here in the lobby talking to people. Instead, I’m watching him. He’s talking to Deb as if they’ve known each other for years. He’s casually tapping his hands on her desk and smiling broadly at something she’s saying. He looks absolutely stunning as he leans forward against her desk and laughs.

It’s not only the way he’s interacting with Deb, but the way he interacts with everyone. He’s incredibly genuine and sincere, so it’s not surprising people enjoy his company. Plus, he never stops smiling and his smile is a force to be reckoned with. So, yeah, it’s hard to look away.

I discreetly watch as he leaves Deb’s desk and starts walking toward the stairs. As the elevator doors open, Colin looks at me from across the lobby. I tilt my head. “Are you coming?”

He declines before walking into the stairwell. I don't know why he wants to run up five flights of stairs after filling up on a burger and fries.

I hate how I feel when he isn’t next to me. It’s obvious he’s straight and not interested in spending time with me, but I’m almost feeling obsessed with him at this point. I can’t help it because he captivates me. No one has ever held my attention the way he does.

By the time I arrive at the fifth floor, Colin’s already sitting at his desk and Bethany’s leaning against it; her legs crossed at her ankles and smiling at something he’s saying. Colin uses his hands to help narrate a story, which has them both laughing.

How’d he get here so fast?

I swear, I do like Bethany. She’s always been sweet and funny, and she’s cute, not that I care. Right now, she could be hit by a truck and it wouldn’t bother me.

That’s not true. Not really. There’s no need to get jealous over a straight guy.

My brain is scrambled. I need to find someone to take my mind off of straight boy Colin. I haven’t had sex for two weeks, which might explain why I’m having such a strong reaction to him.

I pull my phone out to see if Grindr Guy is free.

This is the first story I’ve ever voluntarily written and the first one I’ve done since I was obligated by the education system 15 years ago. All 11 chapters are finished, although, I’m working on a few more that will enhance the already completed story.
Copyright © 2018 Mrsgnomie; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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4 minutes ago, Mrsgnomie said:

No, but yumm!!!! 
also, I’m cringing that you’re reading this story.

Quote

yumm!!!!

Mayas is just that and fits the description perfectly. 

I do the same thing for all authors I really like.  I want to see where they started and how much their writing has changed.  I am happy to tell you that you started off by writing characters that you can immediately love.  Charles and Colin are interesting and endearing.  Their backgrounds maybe a common premise, as one comment mentioned. However, I also agree with the comment that their personalities are different, unique and refreshing.  I also see some great improvements in how you transition POVs now.  The transitions are much smoother and better paced.  If the story continues as it has in the first chapter, I will throughly  enjoy it.  It is a very marvelous first story.  Many seasoned authors here should be envious.

PS. I was going to suggest Hamburger Mary's as the burger restaurant, but it has been closed for almost a decade. Also, a gayhood restaurant, flamboyantly decorated burger place that has drag shows on weekends probably wouldn't be considered upscale, even in Portland. :rofl:

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This is better reading the second time around. Thanks

BTW, Cub Scouts salute and promise with two fingers. Boy Scouts use three fingers--Eagle scout here.

This story was published in 2018.Portland was famous as a laid back , progressive town with good coffee, craft beer and artisan food and restaurants. Portlandia on TV captured its vibe

However,at this time downtown Portland has lots of homeless people , street crime and drug users who consume openly since drugs were legalized. Some businesses are closing and finding it hard to recruit in the downtown. The Oregon suburbs and nearby Vancouver WA--where I grew up-are growing

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