Overload - 2. Chapter 2

Many thanks to Talo Segura for beta reading this  

Chapter 2

“How’s the headache today?” Rebecca asked. Spencer looked at her, debating whether her dress was office-friendly or not. He could see the tattoo on her thigh, and the top cut just above her breasts. Flaming red and pink streaks alternated around it, and the neck had an opening that showed off another of her tattoos. At least she didn’t have a million piercings. If he remembered, he would remind her that his business was professional and he didn’t need her looking like she was headed to the club. A simple suit would suffice.

“Fine. Just a dull ache right now.”

“Did you read up on the new guy?” She looked at Spencer and reached out to adjust his tie.

“Some. Last night was pretty rough.”

“Okay. Well, I sent him all of the links yesterday when he booked the appointment. He replied late last night and sent his M-B results.”

“Oh, good. Let me look at them before he gets here. This morning has flown by. Did you get lunch?”

She smiled. “Yeah. Did you?”

Spencer huffed a laugh. “No. After last night, I didn’t want to tempt fate.”

She sighed. “Spence, I’m going to get you some lunch, and you’re going to eat before that the man gets here.”

Sighing, he nodded. “Finish his file so I can review it.”

“Oh, I did. I finished it when I was eating lunch.” She smirked. “You know, just so you didn’t have any excuses; if I can work and eat, so can you. You’re getting too skinny.”

Spencer raised his eyebrows. “I am?”

“Yeah. It’s on your desk, so go read, and I’ll get you some food.”

He smiled. “Thanks, Becca. Nothing greasy or raw, please.”

Laughing, she headed toward the office door. “I know what you like, better than you do, Spence.”

Spencer scoffed as the door closed. “Sure you do.” He sighed and headed to his office and closed the door. “Alright, Mr. Parsons… why don’t you want to be a cop any more?”

Spencer flipped open the file and began reading. The handwriting was small and cramped on the digital scans of the paperwork, but Spencer could make it out. Mr. Parsons was thirty-five, and looking for a low-stress job. He was an extrovert. Those were the facts. In truth, Spencer wouldn’t know where to start until he had had a conversation with the guy. Good as he was at finding new jobs for people, he still needed to interview them. People lied on the application all the time. This guy was an enigma, though. Adrien Parsons had studied criminology and sociology, and seemed to have a strong sense of justice. But he was also a blue/red personality, and most cops were red/white or red/blue. Spencer shook his head. Nothing about him fitted the “profile” of a veteran officer. His interests, according to the survey, were exercise, going out, reading the odd crime novel, and cooking. He also seemed to be a private person, which something Spencer related to. The biggest thing Spencer noticed was that Adrien Parsons was also not narcissistic, according to the personality test, which was rare in veteran officers. He’d been a sergeant, but not a detective. Spencer bit his lip. Why?

“Hello?” a voice from the waiting room called out.

Spencer’s eyes widened, he shuffled the paperwork back into the folder. “Be right there!”

Most people had dull colors around them, a sense of anxiety or fear; starting a new career was stressful. But not this guy. Spencer opened his office door and inhaled a deep breath. He saw a prism of colors from the center of this guy, and felt an overwhelming calm that never usually came with clients. It wasn’t that he saw auras, but Spencer got a feeling about a person, and his brain interpreted it as colors, images, and feelings.

“Mr. Parsons?” Spencer asked, breathless.

“Yeah. Are you Spencer St. James?”

Spencer nodded, extending his hand. Adrien Parsons smiled like a high-beam light. White silhouetted him, with a speckling of colors along the surface. Spencer clasped his outstretched hand and shook it.

“So… what’s a guy got to do to get a cup of coffee around here?” Mr. Parsons laughed in an ethereal, yet warm way.

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Oh, how do you take it? I might have to make some…”

“That’s okay. I’m early. Sorry if that messed things up.” He still had a smile to his tone.

“No, no. I was just reading your file. So you used to be a cop?” Spencer got the lead out of his ass, moved to the kitchenette in the office, and was pleased to find that there was fresh coffee. Rebecca must have started it before she left to get lunch. She’s a good friend…

“I hope it wasn’t too boring… Yeah. I used to be a cop. What about you?”

“Before this?”

“Yeah.”

Spencer poured a cup for Mr. Parsons and one for himself. “Sorry, did you say how you take your coffee?”

“No. Cream and sugar, please.”

Spencer nodded and began fixing both. “I hope you like African coffees. My friend brough it back from a mission trip.”

“I just like coffee.” Mr. Parsons chuckled. “As long as it’s not that stuff that some big cat shat out.”

Spencer smiled. “I don’t think so.” He handed Mr. Parsons his cup, then fixed his own. “Enjoy.”

Mr. Parsons nodded and took a sip. He looked pleased, and Spencer watched as the colors took on a solid tone of yellowish-gold.

“Good?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah, thanks. I needed that.”

Spencer smiled. “If you want to come this way, we can get started.” He motioned toward his office letting this strange man enter before him. “Have a seat, wherever you’re comfortable.”

“Thanks.” Mr Parsons took a seat on the reddish-brown sofa and rested his ankle on his knee. “This coffee… wow. I reckon you gave it the final kick.” He smiled, and Spencer took the time to look at the man himself and not just the colors surrounding him. The smile reached his eyes, even though they seemed, in a way, haunted. They were dark, mysterious eyes, hiding something deep and hurt by the world. His dark hair was straight but tousseled a bit, like he’d been running his fingers through it. And he was tall—taller than Spencer. He had to look up to catch his eye. He was well-built, like a cop should be. Spencer took a sip of his coffee, hoping Mr. Parsons didn’t notice the appraisal Spencer continued to give.

“Mr. Parsons, I have to ask… what brings you here? Not that I’m against having a new client, but you have an impressive resume and background in the city police force. Why do you need the change?”

“Call me Adrien, please. And that’s a complicated question. One I don’t mind discussing over dinner.” He smiled like the Cheshire cat, big and mischievous.

Spencer blinked. Whoa. No one ever asks me out. “What?”

“Too soon?” Mr. Parsons—Adrien asked.

“Uh, no. Just… not used to mixing business and pleasure.”

“I could find someone else, but I was told you’re the best.” He gave a crooked, sweet smile.

“Okay, let’s just see how this goes. Fair enough?”

“Sure, yeah,” he said, and the colors around him shifted to a dull yellow, unlike that wild sun-bright golden tone of earlier. A feeling began creeping up Spencer’s spine, unfurling in his cock, touching his belly, until it finally reached his whole body. He swallowed hard, his face heating. He looked at Adrien, the look in those eyes, one of a hunter having found its prey. Oh, God. What the hell…? What is going on?

Spencer cleared his throat and shuffled the papers on his desk. “Okay, I’m great at my job, but I admit you are not a stereotype in terms of your tests.”

Adrien unfolded his leg and sat forward, placing his coffee on the glass coffee table. “What do you mean?”

“Long story short, most cops are Red personalities with some narcissistic tendencies. You are a predominantly blue personality with red, white, and yellow, all even. Here." He handed over the report. "Read this. It explains things a bit better than I can. To me, it’s a matter of what’s important to you… and based on these results, you prefer intimacy over control, fun, and peace. Though you do have strong leanings toward those. And your M-B results—”

“Sorry, M-B results?”

“Meyers Briggs. It’s shorthand. I use it with my colleagues.”

“Ah, okay.”

“Anyway, your M-B results are quite interesting as well. Definitely never seen a former cop with these results." He studied the man. "Tell me, Adrien… ten years on the force, why leave now?”

The gold dulled even further to brown, and though he was calm, he didn't look happy. No spikes of anxiety or discomfort, just sadness and that underlying hunter’s feeling.

“I had occasion to draw my weapon, one of those life changing situations. I made a judgement call; it was the detective or the suspect. I fired, the shot killed the suspect.” There was an air of discomfort, which was not surprising, following the revelation. Spencer remained calm.

“That must have been traumatic. Was that the first time you had discharged your weapon?”

Adrien nodded. “And I never want to do it, even in self-defense, ever again.”

Spencer bit his lip and noticed the flicker of a smile on Adrien’s face. “I can understand that. I’m sorry.”

“It's a part of the job, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose." He turned to look at his papers. "On your questionnaire, you said you want to work in something low-stress and interesting. Have you tried research before?”

“Not since college.”

“Yes, you majored in criminology and sociology. I took a look at what we've got and found that there’s a supervisory position at a college research lab. Is that something you’d be interested in?”

Adrien rubbed his chin for a moment. “What kind of research?”

“Something to do with studying video games and the affect of ratings on children and parents. But that’s what’s going on now. I’m sure you could choose other topics. I read that the school of sociology is planning a huge overhaul this summer and is looking for someone interested in expanding their programs.”

Adrien nodded. “What else?”

“Well, with your background, there’s teaching, and of course the typical retail bullshit that some people opt for because it’s easy. But I have a feeling that would bore you.”

Adrien chuckled and that brown shifted into the yellow again. The discomfort he’d felt was gone, and Spencer couldn’t help thinking that this guy was like a dose of Valium, with a shot of Viagra thrown in. He’d never met someone like this before. It took him a moment to think about the guy asking him out before deciding that maybe he would give it a chance. First he would help him find a new job.

“I think the research would be good. Do you have an in with them?”

“Yeah. I saw the salary range you’re looking for. I’ll give them a call. Tell them about you, and they should set up an appointment for an interview. I know they are trying to fill the position quickly.” Spencer paused. “In fact, I’ll call them now.”

The door opened and closed—of course he heard it this time. And Rebecca hummed some song he didn’t recognize as she came around the corner into his office. “Hey, just wanted to remind you that it’s 2:15. Got your lunch, but I don’t think you’ll have time…” Her head turned and she took in Adrien. Something shifted, and she got this shade of green around her. She stood stock still. “Sorry. I thought your appointment was at 2:30.”

“It’s okay. He came in early. Mr Par—Adrien, this is Rebecca, my best friend. She fills in when my secretary is out of the office.”

He rose from the sofa and shook her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Rebecca.”

She smiled, but it was a little off. “You, too. Call me Becca, if you like. I’ll be out here. Don’t forget your appointment, Spence.”

“Yeah, I know. I need to make some phone calls first. Then I’ll hand him over to you for a bit.” Spencer smiled. “Thanks, Becca.”

She nodded and went back to the front desk. He thought she was acting weird. Usually, when she filled in for Grace, she acted like everyone’s best friend, treated them like one of the family, sat down and helped find the job for them. Spencer ignored these thoughts for now as he picked up the receiver and dialed the college recruiter. Voicemail, of course. He left a message and explained he would be out of the office for about an hour that afternoon but to call Adrien directly. He left the contact number, name, and gave a glowing reference. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be misplaced if Adrien did get the job. No, when he got the job.

“Okay, I’m starving. Do you mind telling me a little more while I eat?”

“No, not at all.” Adrien smiled. It was a nice smile, and seemed genuine.

Spencer grabbed the fast food from Rebecca, who gave him a sly look. He ignored it and sat back down at his desk. “Okay, so if that doesn’t work out, what other interests do you have? I mean, other than those you listed on the questionnaire I had Rebecca send you.”

Adrien laughed. “You know, I didn’t take that as a questionnaire for a job… It felt more like a dating application.”

Spencer groaned. “Are you serious?”

Adrien’s face remained passive. He paused a long time, then laughed. “God, no. I know I answered them a bit playfully, but that’s pretty much me.”

Spencer took a bite of the bacon cheeseburger. “Oh.”

“I looked you up before I came in. Saw your facebook profile. Former cop, remember?”

Spencer nodded.

“Old habits die hard. You’re good-looking, and I thought maybe even if you couldn’t get me a job, you’d at least go out with me. You have to be interesting. You’re a private career counselor, and have been in business for the last seven years.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Yeah. What else did you get from the internet?”

Dark eyes sparkled. “That you’re gay, single, and haven’t been on a date in almost a year.”

“Oh… yeah. I’ve been having some medical issues.”

“Not serious, I hope?”

“Just some bad headaches that won’t go away. Some other stuff. I’m having an MRI today.”

Spencer took another bite of his burger and thought about this: Adrien was trouble. He read people for a living, situations, so he knew that Spencer was interested. He also knew that Spencer wouldn’t dare make a first move, because while he was outgoing, when it came to relationships, he was shy. He’d known Becca for so long now that he was never surprised by her, but Adrien, he scared him, for the same reasons that this MRI did. The unknown.

“I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“I hope so, too.”

“So, before I leave, I have to ask: can I text or call you later?”

Spencer paused, thinking. He had no ethical concerns about dating a client… they weren’t clients for long when he worked with them. He sighed and tried to think of a reason to say no, but those chiseled cheeks and dark eyes welcomed him, so did the calm. There was confidence, and surety in Adrien’s speech and bearing. Nothing like the scared, anxious, and worried clients who usually came in.

“Okay. Sure. Why not?” Spencer jotted down his number and handed it to Adrien with a smile. “My days ebb and flow, so whenever you want to call or text is fine.”

Adrien smiled. “Okay. Well, good luck with the MRI. I’ll let you know if the college calls me…”

“Oh, I printed a list of a few other positions you might like. Rebecca will have them at the desk.”

Adrien nodded. “Thanks, Spencer.” He stood and reached out to shake Spencer’s hand.

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Spencer replied, his face heating again. He stood and took the other man’s hand, the warmth and desire still raging within him. Oh, fuck. I’m in trouble.