completely bypassed his fucking lucky baby brother. Kurt had offered Davy’s help, but Davy’s experience at being a single gay man was a decade out-of-date.
Which left him on his own again. Hardly any different from before he’d come out, really, except that should he meet someone special he could bring him home to meet the family. That didn’t solve one damned thing right now.
“Hey, there aren’t any more seats. Mind if I sit here?”
Ian looked up to find a slim man with shaggy brown hair wearing a black T-shirt and khaki cargo pants, midtwenties perhaps.
“Sure. Have a seat.”
At this point, any company was a welcome distraction from his boring book and his unsettling thoughts.
“I’m Leon Barlow.” After plopping his tray on the table, Leon extended his hand and Ian offered his.
“Ian O’Donnell.” Ian frowned. “Didn’t I see you up on the twelfth floor?”
“Oh, yeah, probably. I’m a new graphics designer for Errant .”
The online celebrity scandal magazine that combined gossip with the weirdness of the now-defunct Weekly World News had been Ian’s professional home for the past five years.
“No kidding? I’m a senior account manager for Errant .”
Leon gave him a smile that made Ian revise his initial age estimation down a few years. This guy didn’t look much over twenty. But then, graphic designers were cheapest when they were right out of school and Hector Ramos, Errant ’s owner, always had an eye on the bottom line. Ian’s own substantial salary would have made him a candidate for redundancies if it weren’t for the fact he brought in his salary several times over in ad revenue.
“Oh. Will we be working together, then?”
“Sure, on some projects. Some of our advertisers don’t have agencies or in-house talent to create ads, so the account managers will requisition ads from your department.”
“Then I’m extra glad I asked to sit here.” Leon stuffed a forkful of salad in his mouth and chewed.
Ian set his book down. A complete stranger just asking for use of half his table? In his current mood, he’d probably keep reading, although he didn’t mind chatting with strangers. But a new coworker? Continuing to read would be extremely rude.
“Good book?” Leon pointed with his fork.
“Not sure yet.” Unlikely, given the topic, but he hadn’t been able to read enough to be sure.
Their conversation returned to Errant mostly, but Ian was surprised, even discussing work, how quickly the time passed.
“We should be getting back upstairs.”
Leon didn’t argue, just began gathering his lunch detritus. “Ian, you’re from around here, aren’t you?”
“Uh.” That was a rather ambiguous question. His condo—not far from the office—was within spitting distance of Boystown, so it rather amazed him no one had figured out he’d made that choice deliberately. Was Leon asking if he was gay? Because Ian was rather sure Leon was.
In a fraction of a second, Ian’s shoulders tensed up. He’d outed himself to people he cared about, and obviously every one of his random fucks knew he was gay, but it had never occurred to him that he could very easily experience a twinge of anxiety every time he considered admitting it.
“I mean, from Toronto. I just moved here from Winnipeg a couple of months ago and I don’t know many people in the city. Maybe we could hang out sometime.”
Ian let out a breath as his muscles relaxed, and he realized the majority of his anxiety had resulted from fear Leon was asking him out. The guy was way too young for him to date, and he wasn’t about to have a one-nighter with someone he worked with. That was trouble waiting to happen. But if Leon just wanted to be friends, Ian could do that. He could use a friend without too much personal baggage.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
T HE pulsating beat settled deep in Rick’s stomach as he swiveled his hips to the vaguely familiar song. All around him, bodies writhed, the tang of
Which left him on his own again. Hardly any different from before he’d come out, really, except that should he meet someone special he could bring him home to meet the family. That didn’t solve one damned thing right now.
“Hey, there aren’t any more seats. Mind if I sit here?”
Ian looked up to find a slim man with shaggy brown hair wearing a black T-shirt and khaki cargo pants, midtwenties perhaps.
“Sure. Have a seat.”
At this point, any company was a welcome distraction from his boring book and his unsettling thoughts.
“I’m Leon Barlow.” After plopping his tray on the table, Leon extended his hand and Ian offered his.
“Ian O’Donnell.” Ian frowned. “Didn’t I see you up on the twelfth floor?”
“Oh, yeah, probably. I’m a new graphics designer for Errant .”
The online celebrity scandal magazine that combined gossip with the weirdness of the now-defunct Weekly World News had been Ian’s professional home for the past five years.
“No kidding? I’m a senior account manager for Errant .”
Leon gave him a smile that made Ian revise his initial age estimation down a few years. This guy didn’t look much over twenty. But then, graphic designers were cheapest when they were right out of school and Hector Ramos, Errant ’s owner, always had an eye on the bottom line. Ian’s own substantial salary would have made him a candidate for redundancies if it weren’t for the fact he brought in his salary several times over in ad revenue.
“Oh. Will we be working together, then?”
“Sure, on some projects. Some of our advertisers don’t have agencies or in-house talent to create ads, so the account managers will requisition ads from your department.”
“Then I’m extra glad I asked to sit here.” Leon stuffed a forkful of salad in his mouth and chewed.
Ian set his book down. A complete stranger just asking for use of half his table? In his current mood, he’d probably keep reading, although he didn’t mind chatting with strangers. But a new coworker? Continuing to read would be extremely rude.
“Good book?” Leon pointed with his fork.
“Not sure yet.” Unlikely, given the topic, but he hadn’t been able to read enough to be sure.
Their conversation returned to Errant mostly, but Ian was surprised, even discussing work, how quickly the time passed.
“We should be getting back upstairs.”
Leon didn’t argue, just began gathering his lunch detritus. “Ian, you’re from around here, aren’t you?”
“Uh.” That was a rather ambiguous question. His condo—not far from the office—was within spitting distance of Boystown, so it rather amazed him no one had figured out he’d made that choice deliberately. Was Leon asking if he was gay? Because Ian was rather sure Leon was.
In a fraction of a second, Ian’s shoulders tensed up. He’d outed himself to people he cared about, and obviously every one of his random fucks knew he was gay, but it had never occurred to him that he could very easily experience a twinge of anxiety every time he considered admitting it.
“I mean, from Toronto. I just moved here from Winnipeg a couple of months ago and I don’t know many people in the city. Maybe we could hang out sometime.”
Ian let out a breath as his muscles relaxed, and he realized the majority of his anxiety had resulted from fear Leon was asking him out. The guy was way too young for him to date, and he wasn’t about to have a one-nighter with someone he worked with. That was trouble waiting to happen. But if Leon just wanted to be friends, Ian could do that. He could use a friend without too much personal baggage.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
T HE pulsating beat settled deep in Rick’s stomach as he swiveled his hips to the vaguely familiar song. All around him, bodies writhed, the tang of
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