After ten years as an active duty Marine, Captain Eric Ramos is rejoining civilian life. His first job is chauffeuring, assisting, and generally keeping track of NBA young gun Tyler Haley. Tyler’s had a rough few months, and his team owner is convinced he needs some hand-holding if he’s going to keep delivering wins for the St. Louis Fire Foxes.
Instead of the arrogant, over-privileged athlete Eric expected, Tyler is a big, blond, lonely twenty-three-year-old who needs more than just an employee to keep him in line. While taking care of Tyler, Eric changes from employee to friend, to something more. And when Eric realizes that something is burning the kid up from the inside out, he's determined to find a way to help him before Tyler’s carefully constructed façade turns to ash.
Phase One—Prescreening
“ARE YOU a homosexual?”
I blinked once, my face going perfectly still. Even with Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell a thing of the past, that wasn’t a question I was accustomed to hearing. “Excuse me?”
“Did I stutter? Are. You. A. Homosexual.” She rolled her eyes at me. “A fairy. A fag. A pouf. A fegaleh. Get it? And before you get your panties in a twist and stomp out of here, let me make it clear to you that I really don’t care about the answer.”
Ten years of Marine Corps discipline kept my expression blank and my tone neutral. “Due respect, ma’am, but if you don’t care about the answer, then why ask the question?”
“Because last month Tyler Haley’s entire support network—for what it was worth—went to hell in a handbag.” She paused and held up one sharp, red nail. "His driver fucked his girlfriend in the back of the limo while he was playing an exhibition game for the US Special Olympics.”
A second nail went up. “His last trainer was too busy chasing parking lot blowjobs from the Gutter Groupies to notice a shoulder injury that could have been career-ending serious if we hadn’t caught it.”
She finished with a third finger and a disgusted flourish. “And his personal assistant charged fifty thousand dollars in shit for a mail-order bride from the Philippines on Haley’s American Express. Then, when the kid finally broke down and told his agent he was lonely and didn’t have anyone to spend Christmas with—mostly because I made him fire all those pieces of crap—the prick sent him to a prostitute. On Christmas.”
“My husband and I worked our asses off to get an NBA team back to St. Louis, and in the last four years, Haley has single-handedly made the league sit up and take us seriously. It’s January, and we have a legitimate shot at a championship, which would be nothing short of a fucking miracle for an expansion team less than ten years old.” She stopped for a second, looking like she was reigning in her temper, “but even though he has a contract making more money than God, our star player is just a big kid, and he’s hurting. If Haley’s going to keep performing, he needs someone looking out for him who cares more about doing his job than identifying his next pussy fix. Christensen assured me that wouldn’t be an issue with you, so I figure either one of those purple hearts on your resume came from a career-ending dick injury or you’re queer.”
She ended the tirade with a sharp finger snap—which with the talons was pretty impressive—and a raised eyebrow that looked a lot like a challenge.
Analyzing the explanation, I discarded what seemed irrelevant, and focused on what I considered germane to the conversation. “Why didn’t you and your husband let him spend Christmas with you?”
“We’re Jewish.”
I thought about that for a second and nodded. Fair enough. “I’m gay.”
“Excellent. You’re hired.”
Dawn was a reporter for several years but now works in public relations. Besides spending time with her husband and daughter, writing is her favorite thing to do. Dawn Douglas and her husband moved from Illinois to Texas in 2004 and now make their home in Nashville, Tennessee. She realized she wasn’t in Kansas anymore when she went to a meeting of her local Democratic Party and she and the organizer were the only ones there! She’s decided that all the best characters are rebels, though, and has resigned herself to living in the red states.
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