Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“No, no. But I’ve found that personal connections lubricate sticky situations,” he replied carefully.
Okay, there had to be ten ways to make a dirty joke out of that statement. I maturely ignored temptation and decided to just ask him what the fuck he was talking about. Except in a nice way.
“What are you asking, sir?”
“Let me give you some background.” He held up a finger and went into story mode. “When our kids were little, we volunteered in the classroom. Donating time and money goes a long way. It doesn’t necessarily change a B to an A, but that familiarity builds a bond between the parents, the child, and the teacher. Can’t do that in college. They happily cash my checks, but there’s no opportunity to build that connection. The institution is too big, and sometimes kids get lost. It’s a crime, really.”
Was there a nice way to ask your boss to land the fucking plane already?
“If I ever become a parent, I’ll keep that in mind. I’m still not sure what you need from me.”
“A personal touch. Since you’re not seeing anyone, you might ask Mallory out…and finagle an opportunity for her to get to know her teacher outside of school,” he said matter-of-factly.
My mouth was wide open again. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean…I’m twenty-nine. I’m too old for her and—”
“Mallory is twenty-one. She’s legal and beautiful, but don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m not suggesting a real date, Ezra. Just an opportunity. Or a favor. One I look forward to reciprocating once you’ve passed the bar.” He brushed his hands off as he stood. “We’re talking super simple…ask her out for coffee and arrange to bump into the professor. Think about it. Hey, and good work here. I think you’ll make an outstanding associate. See you Monday, Ezra. Oh, wait. I’m out of town next week. I’ll see you soon, though.”
He gave me one of those “boom-boom” finger gestures reminiscent of a corny character from an old sitcom. Or a goofy dad.
My dad used to do silly stuff like that all the time. Gut-wrenching insta-grief hit me out of the blue only to be replaced with a hot wave of fury.
My dad had been a good man. A flawed man, sure. But not a fucking sleazeball like Rossman.
I had no clue what to think of his “request.” Other than…it was more of a thinly-veiled bribe than a request. Yep, he was definitely testing my loyalty. Asking for proof that I was the kind of employee who’d go the extra mile.
Hell, I’d thought giving up my Saturday morning was proof I was a team player.
Not quite.
Baseball and beer with old friends was the best way to salvage a crappy Saturday. I tapped my fingers against my glass, smiling as Cole recalled a ridiculous play he’d made during a college lacrosse game a decade ago. I was tempted to tease him about resurrecting ancient history, but I wasn’t confident I could bust his balls without sounding like a dick. My mojo was seriously off.
I wanted to blame Holden for starting the day by hiding my milk and being a pest in general. Except…thinking about the exchange made me laugh. That guy was a fucking nut. The good kind. My boss, on the other hand…not so good.
I took a healthy swig of Stella, setting the glass on the coffee table with a loud twonk.
“Ez, I love you like a brother, but I’m not gonna be able to help you if you break another one of Asher’s prized Darth Vader glasses.” Blake shook his head with faux remorse.
“Sorry, man. Where is Ash?” I asked, glancing around the open-style condo Blake shared with his boyfriend.
“He’s visiting his mom. I couldn’t talk him into watching the Dodgers with us,” Blake replied as a dopey smile spread like wildfire across his handsome face.
I’d been shocked when Blake came out as bi a couple of years ago. I’d never admit it to him, but it rocked me a bit. Blake had a reputation for being a player. He was a seriously good-looking, smart, athletic guy—you know the type…the tall, dark jock that all the babes say is mega dreamy.
Blake could have had any chick he wanted. He wanted a dude. And Asher wasn’t a regular dude either. He was a fastidious pipsqueak of a genius with an IQ in the stratosphere. Blake freaking adored him. All you had to do was mention his name in passing and he got that “I’m so fucking happy” look that made me want to ask a dozen inappropriate questions.
Fine. I’d asked every inappropriate question I could think of already.
What’s it like touching another man’s penis? Weird or not so weird? How do you decide who gets to be the one on top? Do you flip a quarter? How long does it take to get your dick inside a dude? And…is it worth it?