“I, Darcy Jonathan Bridges…”
Gideon glanced at the select group of guests in the intimate venue in New Canaan. Darcy and Adrian exchanged their vows in the small room full of white flowers and with an arch decorated with greenery. The wedding was a simple indoor service with no more than twenty people, all of whom had been handpicked to attend by either bridegroom, consisting of their immediate family and their closest friends.
So why am I here?
Gideon was Darcy’s boss, but he still wasn’t sure how he’d ended up being invited to the wedding. He was convinced that his PA, the annoying but sexy Rowan Phillips, had simply decided they were both attending and barreled ahead with the plans. Rowan had organized hotel rooms for them both only a short taxi ride from here, and insisted that staying over was all for Darcy and making the day special. More likely Rowan wanted to drink copious amounts of alcohol, but there again maybe he had the right idea. Gideon glanced toward where Adrian and Darcy were standing hand in hand. A drink or three to get through the day was probably in order so a hotel was for the best.
Ceremony, dinner, celebrations, alcohol, staying overnight, then in the morning it was off to somewhere for the newlyweds and back to the office on Stuyvesant Street in Manhattan for Gideon and Rowan. Gideon had work to do, contracts to assign for next year’s events and last minute checks on Christmas events given it was only nine days away.
There would be the inevitable last minute panics for work parties or family events, and he recalled a request for a two week booking covering a huge family’s New Year gathering at a location in Vermont. While lucrative, the Vermont booking had been left way too late because backstories for the people he hired were complicated matters for long-term connections, and he never put his employees in situations they couldn’t handle.
He’d have to turn it down, but that wasn’t an issue. Bryant & Waites was solid, financially secure, and discreet, all the things he and Luke had planned the company would be.
And there it was. He’d thought about Luke and he knew he should stop focusing on the past. Just because he was at a wedding, and twenty years ago Luke and he were supposed to go to Canada and get married and be together forever…
Think about Rowan instead.
No, don’t think about Rowan. Not sexy, in my face, snarky, coffee making Rowan.
Christmas. Yeah, I’ll think about Christmas. The commercial stuff. I can do that.
Rowan shifted next to him, their hands brushing, and all kinds of forbidden thoughts rushed to his head. He and Rowan holding hands, he and Rowan kissing, he and Rowan…
Christmas decorations, music on repeat, parades, more gift cards to buy. He began to make a mental list of what he could handle in the run up to the usual meeting with family for the big day. He wanted the decks cleared so he wouldn’t be dragged under by family stress. His oddly matched and long-time divorced parents bickering about who’d get him and his sister for which part of Christmas. He was forty-three for fuck’s sake, his sister only a few years younger, and yet the two of them were still fought over as if they were small kids. Not to mention Gideon’s birthday fell on Christmas Eve, which made things even worse. Typically, he hid away on his birthday if he could manage it, but last year he’d spent it with his sister and her boyfriend, and that in itself had been a different kind of chaos.
“They look so happy,” Rowan said as he leaned into Gideon briefly.
“Uh-huh,” was about all Gideon could manage. He’d been lost in thought and anyway, no one should be talking at weddings.
“I might get married here,” Rowan added, and Gideon shot him a surprised glance.
“You’re getting married?” he asked louder than a whisper and got an irritated stare from another guest.
Rowan raised an eyebrow. “Of course.”
Shock flooded Gideon as they turned back to face the happy couple. He hadn’t even known that Rowan was with someone, let alone at the point where they were thinking of getting married. What if Rowan left Bryant & Waites? What if he left Gideon to run the company on his own? That didn’t bear thinking about.
What if Rowan leaves me?
Rowan moved again, this time a full body sigh as Darcy and Adrian exchanged a vow. He smelled wonderful, a fresh citrus scented cologne that reminded Gideon of the ocean.
“Who’s the lucky guy?” Gideon murmured as everyone began to clap and whistle at something.
“Huh?” Rowan said as the clapping died away.
“The man you’re marrying.”
Rowan tapped his nose then winked. “Now that would be telling.”
Great. Just when things were level and the company was steady, Rowan was running off with the first fly-by-night asshole who gave him a ring. Gideon could already picture some smooth city banker or a lawyer who had bought Rowan’s affections with gifts and empty promises—just to take him away from Bryant & Waites.
And me.
The thought of gifts reminded him that he still hadn’t bought Rowan a Christmas gift, which was a slap to the face. There was this rich city guy, probably showering Rowan with gifts, winning his heart, and Gideon hadn’t even considered the measly Christmas gift he usually bought his PA. It was the only one that he bought himself because the gifts to the other guys who worked for him were handled by Rowan himself. Not that Gideon would have to think about what to get him. Because Rowan would likely happen to leave an open magazine on his desk with some very specific comment on a Post-it.
At least Gideon knew that Rowan was getting something he wanted.
I bet Big-city guy doesn’t know Rowan as well as I do.
The countdown to Rowan leaving him had clearly begun, but he couldn’t stop the march of time. What was the point in dismissing the fiancé he’d never met when he himself had never actually made a move on his PA? Well, not a real move.
Focus. He needed to focus on the here and now, glancing briefly at Rowan, right by his side as usual. His suit was a deep blue color, standing out next to Gideon’s gray. His tie a bright orange, Gideon’s a silver-blue.
Rowan had once told him that blue ties made his eyes pop, whatever that really meant, but Gideon certainly hadn’t worn it so he popped his eyes at anyone today. Particularly not cheerful perky Rowan who smiled so wide his nose wrinkled and who was clearly getting married. Gideon had to ignore that Rowan looked good today, bright and smiling, and so different to how he was dressed in the office. His dark hair was newly cut, carefully layered, and his brown eyes were wide with an almost childlike wonder. He had a sprig of holly in his buttonhole, a nod to the season that was reflected in some of the decorations in the room, and he looked…attractive?
That was possibly the safest description that an employer should use about their newly engaged assistant because sexy, gorgeous, and fuckable, were not the words he should be using. Along with cute, always sunny, but sometimes disrespectful and irritating. Rowan was stuck in Gideon’s head, and the time had always been coming when they would need to part ways before Gideon’s idiot-attraction went from bad to worse. Maybe in the new year Gideon could ask Rowan to find a replacement for when he left with his husband…after paying Rowan handsomely for his time of course.
Since the first Wednesday in October at ten thirty-two in the morning, his and Rowan’s working relationship in the same office had started to become very different.
Rowan had hugged him. In Rowan’s defense, it had been the day after Gideon had taken his cat Kimi to the veterinarian. The hug happened out of sheer relief when the news came in that a lump the vet had found was just an infection. Although he wasn’t sure if it had been Rowan or himself who instigated it.
The feel of Rowan in his arms was a memory he would never lose.
Stupid libido and its ability to fuck with my head.
“Maybe I’ll get married on Christmas,” Rowan said softly as the vows or whatever drew to a close. He had his fist on his chest, right over his heart, and were those tears in his eyes? Rowan loved all things Christmas.
The only buffer between Gideon and warring divorced parents at Christmas was his sister, Grace, and what a flimsy buffer she was. They weren’t close at the best of times, but she was dating this guy who had the weirdest nasally tone to his voice and wouldn’t stop talking about how much of Gideon’s wealth he would love to invest. Maybe the problem was he reminded Gideon too much of their own father. No matter the situation with his family, everything came back to money in the end.
So while Gideon dreaded the season and its family obligations, Rowan counted down the days with an advent calendar filled with chocolates and chatted endlessly about this brother or that sister or what his moms had planned. This was the same PA who Gideon could guarantee would already have a Christmas playlist on his phone. He’d dance to the music as he filed or made coffee or even as he walked out for lunch. As of yet Rowan hadn’t put in his earbuds to play it when there were no clients in the office.
Not that Gideon checked.
Okay, so I checked.
There was an unspoken rule for respectful silence in the rarefied air of the offices of Bryant & Waites. At least, it had been an unspoken rule until what had become The Lady Gaga incident, and now it may as well be in huge letters in every contract. Returning unexpectedly to the office after a late meeting, Gideon had found Rowan with his earbuds in, singing along to the music he was listening to and dancing like an idiot in the kitchen. After he’d stood and watched for a good few minutes wondering what to say, Rowan had turned and spotted him. He’d explained there was no one in the building but him, adding something about the floor being polished, and that he wasn’t wearing shoes because he could slide better.
Gideon listened to it all and then, ashamed that he’d been caught watching, blew everything out of proportion and gave some lecture about solemnity and silence being the watchwords of Bryant & Waites. His face heated as he recalled that night because Rowan took the comments to heart and was as quiet as a mouse for at least two weeks until it became so quiet that Gideon was slowly driven mad. He’d left a Post-it note on Rowan’s desk apologizing for overreacting, and they’d never spoken of it again.
Although he still couldn’t get the image of Rowan dancing, or the hug, out of his mind.
Rowan was life and happiness and being in everyone’s business while totally efficient, and he fixed everything so Gideon had an easy life. He was the perfect PA and a thorn in Gideon’s side all at the same time.
He needed to stop thinking about Rowan getting married and leaving him, or recalling the way he moved, and his off-key singing, and how sexy he’d looked when—
Cats. Think about my cat. That’s safe.
I hope Kimi’s not too pissed that I’m away tonight.
Not that Gideon’s beautiful Ragdoll cat would be angry at his absence, she loved Hilda, his neighbor, and was probably being spoiled right now with fresh salmon and unending treats.
“Earth to Gideon,” Rowan whispered, and Gideon blinked down at him, seeing the twinkle in his brown eyes. “I can see the thought bubble from here,” Rowan added as the small group of people began to clap and Gideon joined in, although why he was clapping he didn’t know, then belatedly realizing that somehow he’d missed a vital part of the ceremony. Darcy and Adrian were kissing and then hugging, both grinning at each other as if they were the happiest people on earth.
Did I even hear Darcy and Adrian say their I Do’s?
“Don’t start with that bubble shit,” Gideon warned. Rowan had this thing where he would draw an oval shape in the air with extended fingers and then state what he thought Gideon was contemplating. Unfortunately, nine times out of ten he was right.
Rowan smiled. “You were thinking about something completely unrelated to the ceremony, and then you pondered about important clients, and finally you ended up thinking about your cat.”
Gideon ignored Rowan and stared back at the happy couple, after all the laughter in his PA’s eyes was way too alluring, far too beautiful of a thing, and he wasn’t going there.
“I was making a mental list of agencies who supply replacement personal assistants,” he said instead, trying for humor and realizing it worked when Rowan snorted with laughter, the noise lost in the clapping that continued on for a long time as Adrian and Darcy kissed and hugged their way around their friends and family.
“You’d have to find a magic agency.” Rowan leaned in and got far too close, and Gideon knew he should have kept his mouth shut, but no…he fell right into Rowan’s trap.
“What do you mean a magic agency?”
Darcy had nearly reached them, but there was enough time for Rowan to shrug and bite back a laugh.
“Only PAs capable of magic can handle the ogre in the main office.”
“You’re fired—”
“And rehired, obvs.” Instead of the word obviously, he’d started using “obvs” recently. It was obvs to everything as if correcting Gideon when he messed up by using the annoying shorthand made things better.
“Guys, thank you for coming.” Darcy was there, shaking hands, bro-hugs, a much longer hug for Rowan, but then again, the two men had been friends for thirty years. Adrian caught up with Darcy, dragging him into a kiss.
“Hey, husband,” he said.
“Hey back, husband,” Darcy said, and they kissed, right in front of Rowan and Gideon. So close that Gideon could see the tender way Adrian cupped Darcy’s face and the emotion that had them leaning on each other, with the absolute certainty that neither would let the other fall.
I want that. I really want it.
He was trapped in his quiet corner, hemmed in by the kissing, laughing newlyweds and Rowan, who was grinning so hard it had to hurt.
When the two separated, they all hugged again, and this time it was thank yous for the gifts. Gideon hadn’t known what to get them. Adrian wasn’t wanting for money, and what did you buy two guys who had their own place? He’d settled on a generous gift card to an upmarket bespoke furniture showroom, and they seemed pleased, explaining they were sure they would find something perfect there, and for a brief moment, Gideon felt as if he’d done something right in a social setting, and that he was a good guy.
But Adrian was gushing all over Rowan. “How in the hell did you know about the rare Ella Fitzgerald pressing?”
Rowan winked. “I have my sources,” he said and brushed at his shoulders indicating that he was a freaking genius.
“You mean Darcy told you,” Gideon said and laughed because he’d made a joke, but Rowan shook his head and looked serious.
“I never said a thing,” Darcy said.
“No, he didn’t. You remember that barbecue we had at yours? You said that she was one of your heroes, and you loved her music, and then we were talking about it after, and you mentioned you were looking for a particular version—”
“Oh God, I did, how the hell do you recall that?” Adrian hugged Rowan. Again. There was way too much hugging going on, and Gideon remained trapped in the corner.
“You know I’m a genius,” Rowan deadpanned, and Gideon bit back the need to make a barbed comment about how his PA had probably written it down in his journal, but that wasn’t really a joke and would have made everything awkward.
“And the dogs,” Darcy said. “Thank you.” He hugged Rowan, and Gideon was less worried about that hug. Them being friends and all.
“What dogs?” Gideon asked because firstly, he was trapped, and secondly, he’d promised himself to make a real effort at this wedding.
He never did get an answer because someone yelled from the other side of the room about toasts and food and a party, and it was as if the tide that had been washing toward Gideon suddenly reversed, and it was only him and Rowan left.
“What dogs?” he repeated.
“Darcy and dogs have been a thing for a while I guess. You probably don’t know but he used to volunteer at a dog sanctuary, donated to a Dogs for Veterans charity. I think he’s still in touch with some ex-army buddies who had worked with the K9 unit. So, yeah, I donated in his name.” He made it sound as if it was nothing, but his gifts were thoughtful, personal, whereas Gideon didn’t even know the two men well enough to come up with anything cleverer than a generic gift card.
“Come on.” Rowan tugged Gideon to the door through which everyone had left. “I don’t want to miss out on champagne!” The smaller room decorated with simple flowers opened up into a bigger room with a few round tables, a large cake, and horrifically, a dance floor. Gideon nearly turned and ran. He could face down multinational corporations, defend his staff and friends to the death, discuss terms with the richest families in the US, and sometimes in foreign countries. He could maneuver his way through the trickiest of negotiations and shield his company, but the thought of a dance floor, which meant dancing?
Nope. Not happening.
Gideon deliberately chose a table near the door—for a swift exit—then changed his mind when that was also too close to the dance area then went to the back but quickly realized he’d be hemmed in again, and then he simply just stopped walking.
“Here, boss.” Rowan encouraged him to sit, and in Rowan’s capable way, he’d found a seat equidistant between dancing, cake, and freedom. He didn’t ask Gideon why he was standing there like an idiot. He just dealt with it, but they weren’t at work. This was a social situation, and Gideon wasn’t a freaking idiot.
“I can find my own damn table,” Gideon snapped.
Rowan blinked at him and pointed at the table in front of which they were standing and a small card that had Gideon Bryant handwritten on it. He was sandwiched between Adrian’s sister, Abby, and Rowan. Sitting in his chair, he settled in for whatever happened next. Well shit, he hadn’t seen the card.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
Rowan smiled at him, in reassurance maybe?
“S’okay boss. Here, have some champagne.”
Maybe I shouldn’t drink? Maybe I should stick to water and then I could keep my head and not ask Rowan why the hell he’s marrying some guy I’ve never even met.
But the champagne sure tasted nice.
