Chase, Kurt, and Stefan are childhood friends who bring their unique talents to Just For You, a popular custom design firm. Chase does the decor work, Stefan showcases his craftsmanship skills with woodworking and carpentry, and Kurt handles the business details.
Chase is devastated when he learns his boyfriend has proposed to a woman. His love life has fallen apart and when an important fabric order goes awry, it threatens to put him over the edge. Drowning his sorrows in a cup of hot, black coffee before consulting on his next big job seems like the answer--until he meets Frank.
When Chase discovers the man who sets his body--and soul--on fire is the husband of his newest client, he vows not to be the 'other man' again, but his heart and his body just aren't listening.
Damask? Who ordered the damask? I wanted silk--the soft, sage green silk I sent you the swatch of last week!" Chase broke the connection on his cellular with as much conviction as he could manage.
Why were there no good, old fashioned telephones anymore--the ones that allowed you to slam down a receiver so a caller could feel the wrath as you truly meant it? He shook his head incredulously. Silk. Soft, sage green silk--the perfect material for Ms Conrad's penthouse boudoir curtains--and some buffoon at the warehouse filled his order with damask! The horror swamped Chase, especially since he didn't have the opportunity to break a phone receiver at the warehouse fulfillment worker's expense.
Only one immediate cure popped into his mind at this moment--a nine thirty in the morning moment when a glass of Scotch whiskey, neat, was out of the question--a good, strong cup of the blackest coffee Chase could find, along with the richest, most calorie-laden, warm cinnamon roll dripping in buttery, sugary icing. Well, at least the black coffee, he considered as he left his office at Just For You, the full-service concierge home store where he worked as the resident interior design expert. I'd have the cinnamon roll and instantly regret the choice. Maybe I'll settle for a muffin--easier on the waistline but decadent enough to soothe my pain, especially if they still have those carrot ones with the cream cheese icing.
"Wanda, I'm stepping out for about an hour. If those imbeciles at the warehouse call about the Conrad order, tell them that I'll get back to them in about twelve hundred calories."
Chase bolted past a stunned and totally-clueless Wanda, the firm's receptionist, and headed out onto the sidewalk. The morning air still crisp, Chase took a long, deep breath, as if clearing his lungs would rid him of the frustration the morning had already given him. A short walk to the trendy coffee shop on the next corner would be just the thing to cleanse his mood and give him a fresh outlook for a new beginning on the day. What had happened to him last week, along with snafus like this morning, were cutting into his otherwise positive outlook about himself personally and his burgeoning career as one of the areas up-and-coming new designers. His thoughts drifted back to how it had all began.
* * * *
"What do you mean you're going to ask her to marry you?"
Chase could still remember the shrieking tone in his voice when he asked his lover of several months how he could want to be with a woman... and forever. Chase and Brad had been quite the item, or at least it seemed that way to Chase.
Yes, Brad had been dating Sylvia when they first met. In fact, Chase remembered the first time they'd laid eyes on each other--and shortly after, hands, tongues, and... well, everything else--occurred during one of Brad's dates with the woman.
Chase had been invited to a big gathering at a local estate. He'd been privileged to design and supervise a huge redecoration project there. The invitees numbered over a hundred guests and Chase frankly had to stifle yawns of boredom. Good business mandated, though, to hang around and be recognized as the person who created the luxurious ambiance the guests so enjoyed. Regardless of the money their firm spent on advertising, the best source of leads remained word of mouth and networking. And given how many people were in attendance and the quantity of champagne the waiters seemed to be pouring, there would be plenty of 'word of mouth' happening.
What a circus. If I stay another half hour, I should be able to leave without sacrificing any future coups. Chase grabbed another glass of champagne, leaned back against the stone pillar, and resumed his favorite pastime--checking out the men at the party. The women held little allure for him, unless they had deep pockets and a need to hire a decorator. Chase's interest focused more on the faces, builds, asses, and bulges of the male guests. He hadn't been laid in quite some time and the tension built in him.
He'd just about determined the dark-haired man with the older, blonde woman had to be gay and a hired escort for the night when someone brushed against his shoulder--a little too close to be accidental.
"I don't think you're checking out the woman for some action there, pal. I think you're sizing up her date. Do you think he's the right size for you?" The masculine voice whispered softly and sounded full of innuendo.
Chase steeled himself not to turn around. The thrill the hot, suggestive statement promised had gone straight to his groin and his dick woke immediately.