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with parsnips that smelled good and tasted better. For whatever reason, once Ruben sat down here, the price of everything stopped bothering him. This was the first time he’d spent in this penthouse without money on his mind. Instead of boss and hire or bodyguard and principal, they turned into two guys who needed to eat and sleep.
    Bauer acted more relaxed than he’d ever been. They ate hungrily and though his boss had wine, Ruben felt no temptation. Huh.
    Peach always said alcoholics reach for a drink when they’re Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired. HALT, the acronym was. Whenever the urge emerged, he’d tell himself to “Halt” and it usually worked. Except, in this penthouse, Ruben didn’t feel any of those things. Anything but. More like the opposite of “halt.” Full steam ahead.
    After food and coffee, Bauer seemed intent on entertaining him, and they both wound down. Just as at Barney’s, the stream of flattery and charm gave Ruben the hypnotic feeling of being in absolute control. Something seductive about his wishes holding sway and Bauer’s eagerness to please him. Made no sense, but made Ruben drunk with luxe and borrowed power.
    He likes having you on the premises , Ruben’s brain offered, but he ignored the thought.
    Courtesy of ESPN, the projection TV spewed a baseball game across the whited-out windows. Bauer had a lot to say about the scoring and stats that went right over his head. Ruben didn’t particularly like baseball, he preferred the pace of soccer or basketball, but a game was a game.
    Eventually Ruben caught himself staying awake out of politeness, hoping his boss wasn’t doing the same. I like him too.
    Gradually the commentary dwindled and Ruben turned to check. Bauer’s face was cuddled hard against the white cushions. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell smoothly. The cowlick in his hair had sprung loose.
    His boss had fallen asleep on the couch with the news blaring, a vague smile on his lips, his breath steady. Not nervous for once.
    ’Cause I’m here.
    Even weirder, Ruben could have dozed if he stopped fighting. Again he stole more than a glance. A narrow strip of abdomen revealed the line of springy fuzz pointing south from his navel. Even now, at the end of the day, Andy smelled fresh baked.
    “Bed,” Ruben whispered to himself, and as he bent to wake the man, he thought better of disturbing him when he’d finally found some peace.
    Let sleeping dogs lie.
    Instead, Ruben tiptoed down the main hall to the guest room next to the office and stripped to his boxers.
    As soon as the door shut, he questioned the decision to sleep over, even with Bauer forty feet away, even for a night. This room made him feel like an impostor, underlining everything he hadn’t figured out and all the things he needed to change still.
    Not that his brother’s couch was so comfy, but without Bauer’s coaxing he knew he didn’t belong.
    His brown toes sank into the sixteen thousand dollar Agra rug. His jeans hung like seaweed from the Philippe Starck valet. His stubble scraped the eight-hundred-dollar pillowcase. No part of him belonged in this place. He put a glass of water on the nightstand.
    He shouldn’t have stayed.
    Sleep steered clear.
    If he’d had a book, he’d have read. Instead he opted to play Scrabble on his phone for an hour before he gave up and turned off the lights.
    For the first time in his life, he lay awake staring at the ceiling with no cracks to count. Bauer’s ceilings looked as seamless as the rest of his life.
    Around two thirty he heard someone moving in the library and then his door opened. He shut his eyes.
    A whisper? “Rube?” His boss going to bed, checking on him. The door closed again.
    He opened his eyes when he heard Bauer climbing the stairs and moving around directly overhead.
    Something still bugged him here that kept him from settling. The unnatural stillness, maybe. Bauer’s climate control kept the air exactly ten degrees below body