Key To His Heart: Gay Romance E-Book

Trina Solet

• Herausgeber: Trina Solet
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Phillip Morton is a disciplined and self-assured young executive, but that's only on the surface. His heart is in turmoil. He has just discovered that his late brother might have left behind a child. This child is only a rumor, a possibility, but Phillip sets out to find him.
To help him with his search, he brings along Leon, his assistant. Leon is very young and new to his job. Phillip doesn't want things between them to turn too personal, but he needs Leon to keep him sane.
Even as he searches for his nephew, Phillip is afraid to hope. After the heart-wrenching loss of his estranged brother, it seems too much to expect that this child could be real.
It turns out that Ant, short for Anthony Morton Junior, is very real indeed. He is a sweet three-year-old living in precarious circumstances with an elderly relative. Phillip has found them just in time.
As Leon lends a hand with all the new challenges in Phillip's life, the two of them are growing closer every day. If only Leon can free himself of the demons from his childhood. While Leon's past still haunts him, he and Phillip can't rush into anything.
Will Phillip's love and patience win out in the end so they can all become a family?

Leseprobe

Key To His Heart: Gay Romance

By Trina Solet

Copyright © 2016 by Trina Solet

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales or actual events is entirely coincidental.

All sexual activity takes place between persons eighteen years of age or older.

This novel contains material intended for mature readers.

Cover image is only for illustrative purposes. Any person depicted is a model.

Key To His Heart

Gay Romance

Trina Solet

Chapter 1

After years of separation, of not speaking, he was finally hearing from Tony. Phillip could take a good long look at his little brother while he talked. There was Tony with his curly, light brown hair, lively brown eyes, smiling, with an irrepressible spirit shining through.

Phillip was the boring older brother wearing a suit, hair short, and gray eyes that were always too serious. Both brothers did have their father's long fingers, but Tony's were never still, always tapping and fiddling with anything he could get his hands on. Phillip could see him doing it right now. Tony was flipping a pen over his knuckles, almost dropping it a few times.

Phillip watched those familiar tics with rapt attention, but sometimes he couldn't see Tony very well through the tears that clouded his vision. The video he was watching came from Tony's phone. He made it just in case then sent it to his lawyer.

Just in case...

Tony died in a car crash two weeks ago. Driving too fast and under the influence when he crashed, it was pure luck that he hadn't taken anyone with him. The wreck had killed him on impact. This video was the last time Phillip would hear or see his little brother.

Phillip sat alone in the shabby conference room at Mr. Poller's law office. Trying not to let grief overwhelm him, he watched and absorbed every word. He didn't want the video to end. He wanted to sit there and watch Tony fidget, scratch his chin now and then, and smile disarmingly.

Every characteristic gesture broke Phillip's heart a little more, brought back memories of his brother as a little boy. Tony always leaned forward slightly when he talked, like he was confiding something to you and it was very important. It was Tony so he also rambled a bit before he got to the point.

"At first I was thinking I'd write this down. I figured you'd appreciate a letter so I sat down to write all of it. Had a big yellow legal pad in front of me and a pen in my hand, but you know me." Tony shrugged, shook his head and grinned. "So now you get to look at my pretty face while I yammer on."

Tony talked about a girl. "There was something about her. She really got to me, but Tara had some problems. I thought I could save her. I didn't do such a good job." Tony sighed and looked down then raised his eyes to the camera again. "Now for my big news. Tara didn't stick around. She dropped a bomb on me that she was preggers then ran off. That was a while ago now. I've been looking for her ever since. She went by the name Tara West when I knew her, but that turned out to be fake. So far I haven't been able to track her down. What happened in Missouri makes me worry that I might never get around to it. I had a little rollover. I didn't come out of it too bad. But it got me thinking how anything can happen to me. I live just a little over the speed limit." Tony grinned, but Phillip felt sick.

He could see the evidence of what happened in Missouri on Tony's face and on his head. He had cuts and bruises and his curly hair had been shaved right over his right temple. Every time Tony turned his head, Phillip could see the ugly red gash and the stitches keeping it closed.

If that accident was a warning, why didn't Tony listen? Phillip didn't have time to dwell on that as Tony continued speaking.

"Somewhere out there I have a kid. If anything happens to me, I want you to find him or her and make sure my kid is taken care of. I might beat you to it. Hope I do. Maybe I'll be coming over to show off my progeny, the fruit of my loins, hear the little squirt call you Uncle Phil." Tony chuckled then grew more serious. "The way I'm living plenty of things might happen before I ever set eyes on that kid of mine. So you're my insurance policy. Be my big brother one more time. Find my kid for me. Do it for old time's sake. Do it for that little boy who used to run after you and hang on your every word even if he didn't always do what you told him to," Tony said with a new urgency to his voice and a smile.

In that moment, Phillip saw him as the disobedient little boy he used to be. He could hear him squeal and run away because he had been told it was bath time or bedtime or some dreaded vegetable was being served for dinner.

For a while, Phillip was lost to that vision. Tony was running down the hall, feet kicking, curls bouncing, screaming because bedtime was the end of the world. His parents were telling Phillip to go catch him, but he couldn't catch that little boy now any more than he could bring his brother back to life.

"Be my big brother one more time." Those words hit Phillip so hard. The agony in his chest wouldn't subside as Tony's voice still echoed in his head – casual but earnest, so familiar, so real. How could Tony be gone when he was so alive and didn't know how to sit still even as he was telling Phillip something like this.

Phillip felt like he could reach through the laptop screen and touch warm skin and unruly hair. Of course he would be his big brother. He would always be Tony's big brother. Phillip knew that in his heart as it filled with grief and pain at every heartbeat. Tony grinned one final time, the video stopped playing, and Phillip sat in that conference room and convulsed with silent sobs.

Phillip didn't know how long he sat in front of his open laptop. Long enough for the screen to go dark. Even after he stopped crying uncontrollably, he didn't move. He sat like he was frozen. Only the thought of what he needed to do brought him out of it.

This might be the last time he got to do anything for Tony. He started by going to speak to the lawyer, Mr. Poller. He was elderly and called himself semi-retired. He seemed to have known Tony personally.

Coming out of the conference room, feeling numb, Phillip knocked on his office door.

"Come in. I have here what your brother left for you." Sitting behind his desk, Mr. Poller put aside an open file and picked up two others. He invited Phillip to have a seat. "Last year, Tony and my nephew's boy got into some trouble together, drag racing." He sighed. "I got them out of it with a fine and time served. After that Tony came to me with the information about this girl known as Tara West, and he also recorded the video that you saw. He left with me everything he had on the girl, which isn't much. Since he moved around so often, he wanted the information kept safe."

Mr. Poller handed him the two files. Phillip flipped through some printouts quickly, lingered over the photos of a young woman. She was blond with weary, blue eyes. In some of the photos, she was with Tony. He had his arm around her and wore his cockiest grin. As he stared at the photos, Phillip felt too overwhelmed to actually take in any information that was in front of him. The photos of Tony smiling so confidently were too painful to see.

Mr. Poller must have noticed his state of agitation because he summed up a few things for him without being asked. "Tony met her in Augusta at some party. She was partying pretty hard. Some guys took an interest in her. She wasn't in any condition to do much about it so Tony stepped in. He got her away from them. He took her home and they began a rather stormy relationship. They stayed together for less than six months. After she left town, he couldn't find any sign of her. Tony managed to hire two private investigators over the last few years, but neither of them got very far before Tony's money ran out."

Phillip could imagine what kind of private investigators Tony could afford to hire. But one question lingered on his mind. "I don't mean to be cynical, but did these private investigators find any evidence that this woman was really pregnant?"

"The people she knew in Augusta can only confirm that she made the claim and that it was based on a home pregnancy test," Mr. Poller told him.

"Do they know if she intended to keep the baby?"

"She said she was going to go up north where she had family. One of her friends told Tony that she said, 'If I can get cleaned up, I'll have it. If I can't, I'll get rid of it. I don't want to have a messed up kid.'"

"And this family she mentioned?"

Mr. Poller shook his head.

"Her phone records..."

"That's the first thing the investigators checked. Tara's phone was on Tony's plan while they were together. Those phone records didn't lead anywhere. The raw data is on the micro SD card that's attached to the file if you want to go over it. Everything else is in there too."

Phillip thanked Mr. Poller and told him he would keep in touch. He left his office in a daze. When he stepped out, sunlight hurt his eyes. He closed his eyes and stood on the sidewalk. Did he dare to hope and get his heart broken all over again?

Chapter 2

In the early dawn hours, Leon's friend, Pavel, had texted him to say goodnight. It was his way of letting Leon know he got home safely from clubbing all night. When Leon answered his good night with good morning, Pavel texted back that having a job sucked.

Leon didn't agree. He and Pavel were about the same age, but while Pavel was in college, Leon started working full time right after high school. Still, he didn't expect he would be wearing a suit and going to work at a stodgy office at the age of twenty.

He was an assistant at a consulting firm and proud to have such a serious job. Since arriving in Easton, homeless and with no job prospects, Leon had come a long way. Now he could afford his own place and this clunky, bright red little Ford Focus that was a million years old and sounded like an old man with bronchitis was trapped under the hood in place of an engine.

As he drove to work with the windows down, Leon enjoyed the fresh, fragrant air of late spring. The constant gray skies of winter were just a distant memory. All around were signs of nature coming fully to life. These days, Leon couldn't go anywhere without hearing birds singing. Sometimes he saw so many flowers in bloom that it seemed impossible that this was the same city of a few months ago. The air itself seemed brighter and more alive.

It was only Leon's second day at his new job as an assistant to Phillip Morton. As soon as he went in, he found out that his boss would be gone all day on personal business. Settling in behind his imposing desk, Leon looked around the office and wondered how he had found himself in such a traditional, stuffy place.

Morton Consulting was located in an old building and furnished to fit the age of that building. Dark wood shelves lined the walls. The desks were hulking and solid. The paintings on the walls were old-timey landscapes. Leon felt like he had stepped into an office from an old movie.

His own desk sat in a waiting area outside the door to Mr. Morton's inner office. While he wondered if his new boss would be coming in at all, he noticed the contrast of the antique brass lamp on one corner of the desk while the skinny monitor for his computer sat on the other side. That was this place in a nutshell.

When Leon first walked into Mr. Morton's office, he expected his boss to match the look of the place and be at least in his mid fifties. He was surprised to find that Mr. Morton was fit, broad-shouldered, sandy-haired and in his late twenties. That made him only five or six years older than Leon.

Mr. Morton wore a perfectly tailored gray suit, which was just as conservative as the office. The color of his suit made Leon take another look at Mr. Morton's eyes. Yes, they were gray and, for some reason, looked very sad. Instead of giving him the standard, firm handshake, Leon had the urge to take the man into his arms and hold him tight until that sad look went away. To keep that impulse in check, he forced himself to look away from those melancholy eyes and focus on the suit. That suit said this man was all business.

Starting with that first meeting, Leon had to suppress every natural reaction he had to the man inside the suit. He kept reminding himself that this was work, not play, and Mr. Morton's somber attitude took care of the rest. Faced with someone who never smiled or said one casual or friendly thing, Leon found it wasn't that difficult to keep himself in line around his new boss.

That morning, Leon had been ready for another dreary day of suppressing his urges in the presence of his strict boss only to go into work and find that he had the office to himself. It was like that for most of the day. Leon spent the hours familiarizing himself with his new computer's quirks and the company phone he had been issued.

Poking around, he got some pointers from the other assistants down the hall. He also got updated on some office gossip, including the information that his boss was gay. He mulled that over until he was assigned to help out Mrs. Lahari whose own assistant had called in sick.

Mrs. Lahari was a junior executive, who had to handle two of Mr. Morton's appointments in his absence.

"Sorry it's taking me so long. You've been really patient," Leon told her over the phone as he scrambled to find some additional information she needed for her second meeting.

"That's the Morton effect," Mrs. Lahari told him.

"The what?" Leon asked as he scanned through files looking for the right one.

She explained, "Mr. Morton believes that the lowest paid employees have to be treated with the most courtesy. This is nothing. You should see how nice I am to the people who clean the office."

"That's weird. My boss didn't strike me as the warm and fuzzy type," Leon said as he emailed the files to her. He was thinking that Mr. Morton seemed kind of cold and forbidding, especially for someone who was so young and good-looking that he took Leon's breath away when he first met him.

"Warm and fuzzy? No, I don't believe anyone would ever call him that. OK. I got the files. Thank you. Good work," she said and hung up.

Leon sat back and huffed, relieved that he got the job done. Things were quiet for a while until Leon got a text. It was almost the end of his workday and Mr. Morton was telling him that he was on his way to the office. Leon set up and put on his suit jacket. He wanted to look professional and alert when his boss walked in.

Watching Mr. Morton come in an hour before quitting time, Leon could tell that whatever he had to deal with must have been something heavy. Pale and drawn, he stopped in the doorway and stared at Leon for a moment.

"I forgot you had curly hair," Mr. Morton said.

Caught off guard, Leon didn't know what to say to that.

"Sorry. My brother..." Mr. Morton started to say but he only blinked a few times and breathed raggedly.

"Is there anything I can do?" Leon asked and got up from behind his desk. He wondered if something had happened to Mr. Morton's brother for him to look like that when he mentioned him.

"I..." Mr. Morton shook his head in confusion. Then he seemed to focus by sheer force of will. "Yes. There are a few things you can do," he said decisively.

Mr. Morton gave him a whole list of calls to make. Some of them had to do with business but two were calls to private investigators and another was to his lawyer. Then Leon called a third private investigator whose number was supplied by the lawyer's assistant. It was all very odd, but Leon wasn't about to ask any nosy questions.

After that Mr. Morton had him scan the contents of two files. When Leon went into Mr. Morton's office to return the files, he tried to keep his expression neutral. But inside the file he had noticed photos of a pretty, blond girl and a young guy with curly, light brown hair.

"Is everything OK?" Leon couldn't help but ask seeing the pained look on his boss's face.

Sitting behind his desk, clenching and unclenching his fists, Mr. Morton looked up at him. "I'm keeping you late," he said as if he only now realized that it was past Leon's quitting time. "I'm sorry. I'll be paying you personally for the overtime."

"It's fine. I didn't have plans," Leon told him.

"I appreciate your help. I've... My brother died a little while ago, but I just learned that he might have a child. I'm trying to trace the whereabouts of the child's mother," Mr. Morton said as he looked through one of the files kind of frantically. His eyes never settled on anything until he held a photo of the girl and the curly haired guy.

"That's him, I guess," Leon said. "And the kid's mom?"

"Possibly. I don't even know if the child exists. She claimed she was pregnant then disappeared."

Leon frowned. He could see how desperate Mr. Morton was to will this child into being. "I hope you find this girl and everything else you're looking for."

Once again Mr. Morton looked up at him as if he had forgotten he was there. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to burden you with personal matters. Thank you for staying late, but I think I've kept you long enough."

Leon wasn't surprised to see him turn formal like that. If he hadn't been overwhelmed by what he was dealing with, a standoffish guy like him wouldn't have said a word about any of this to Leon. He wasn't the type to over-share at the office. In fact, this was the first time Leon was hearing about his brother's death. No one at Morton Consulting seemed to know about it or Leon would have been told before now.

"Should I order you something for dinner before I go?" Leon asked. He had a feeling his boss might be staying late, and he doubted Mr. Morton could even think of food in the state he was in.

"Dinner. Oh, no. I can't eat," Mr. Morton said, shaking his head.

"That's fine as long as you had lunch," Leon said pointedly.

Mr. Morton looked up at him guiltily.

"I can just order something simple you can eat without even taking your eyes off those files," Leon told him. "And you might need coffee too."

Instead of arguing, Mr. Morton sighed in defeat. "Thank you," he said then he frowned at Leon. "You missed dinner too. Order anything you like and put it on my credit card." He handed the card to Leon.

Leon ordered in from a nearby sandwich place – a roasted vegetable sandwich for himself and turkey for his boss plus two salads so it would seem more like a proper meal. He took in the food when it arrived. Pulling out the salad and the turkey sandwich and setting them on Mr. Morton's desk, Leon lingered. Then he sat down in the chair opposite from Mr. Morton and unwrapped his sandwich. It was a bold move, but Leon decided to risk it.

"You probably didn't mean for me to eat it here, but I have a feeling you won't eat a thing if I don't keep you company." It seemed wrong to Leon to leave him alone at a time like this and in the midst of this heavy, dark furniture with the rest of the office deserted.

"I appreciate..."

"How many times have you gone over the files?" Leon asked to cut off any arguments.

"I haven't been counting." Mr. Morton eyed the files, the look on his face both anxious and forlorn.

"Taking a break will help you take a fresh approach to things. Always helped me when I had trouble with stuff at school or figuring out my first tax return," Leon told him.

Mr. Morton took up his sandwich and leaned back.

"You and your brother must have been very different," Leon said to give Mr. Morton an opening in case he wanted to talk about him. He had noticed the difference in the pictures in the file. Mr. Morton's brother seemed carefree, unshaven, with a loose stance and a cocky grin. In one photo he had a leather jacket slung over one shoulder and an arm around a blond in tiny shorts and halter-top while they both leaned against a yellow sports car.

"True. He was the wild child." Mr. Morton smiled sadly.

Seeing him like that, Leon realized that his impression of his boss had been turned on its head. From guarded and cold to distraught, Mr. Morton had showed him a more human side. Leon only wished it wasn't over such a tragedy. But Mr. Morton was still quiet and reserved, not a sports car and leather jacket kind of guy, and not someone who spilled his guts. Leon was surprised he could get him to reveal his heartache. While sitting with his boss like this, he felt like they were under a spell and he didn't want to do anything that might break it.

Chapter 3

Wild child, that was Tony. Looking back at him over the years, Phillip could see that little boy screaming and running around their back yard. At five, he was trying to climb the fence. Phillip pulled him down only to end up in a wrestling match with him on the grass. He loved causing trouble.

So restless and eager to explore, Tony always wanted to go where he shouldn't and climb too high. Quiet games didn't interest him. They never managed to play a single board game without it dissolving into chaos with pieces everywhere.

It wasn't fun for Tony if it wasn't crazy and loud. Scrabble was a game of how many bad words he could sneak in. Bedtime and bath time were war. Tony had to be hunted down and cornered before he would surrender.

"You were the good boy," Leon guessed.

"You could say that. That's why we clashed once Tony got older," Phillip admitted. "We lost our parents when Tony was twelve and I was sixteen."

Phillip remembered how that late evening turned into a late night with him and Tony home alone, waiting for their parents to return from a party. Then there was a knock on the door, but it wasn't their parents.

They left in their fancy clothes, trailing the scent of Mom's perfume and never came back. As he had listened to the news of the car crash that killed them, Phillip touched his cheek. His mom had kissed him at the door before she left. Maybe his cheek still had a trace of her lipstick.

To bring himself out of the abyss of that dark moment, Phillip continued speaking. "Moe and Franny Massimo, friends of our parents' became our foster parents. They were an older couple with no children. Moe and Franny were the ones who came to tell us our parents had died. They had been at the same party. They were still wearing their party clothes as they delivered the news with pained faces. Tony told them straight out that they were lying. He refused to accept that our parents could be gone just like that. After that it was as if Tony never forgave them for being the bearers of bad news. Franny and Moe were such good friends to our parents. I can only imagine how hard it was for them to tell us."

"Not as hard as it was for you to hear it," Leon pointed out.

"But when you are looking at a face of a child..." At the mention of a child, Phillip trailed off. He picked up the thread of what he was saying like he was grabbing for a lifeline. "They were really good to us, but Tony was pretty difficult. No matter what they did, he accused Franny and Moe of trying to take the place of our mom and dad. Whether they were kind to him or strict, it was the same story. While they tried to reach him, he was always pushing them away. I think he was afraid of losing the connection to our parents."

Tony treasured every scrap of their former lives. He was devastated when their house was sold. "Why don't they just tear it down?" Tony had asked angrily. "Why does everyone want to erase them?" He couldn't be reasoned with. He only became more difficult as he got older.

"When he started high school, Tony expected more independence, a lot more. He wanted to stay out all night with his friends. When Moe and Franny put their foot down about that, he rebelled. Not only did he stay out all night, he didn't come home for days. That went from being a way to assert his independence and turned into a habit. He always came back home eventually in those days. By then, I was away at college and he often stopped by to see me."

At unpredictable and inconvenient times, Phillip had found Tony waiting in front of his dorm or wherever he was working after classes. They would grab something to eat and walk around. Tony would talk his ear off about everything he had been up to and how old and unreasonable Franny and Moe were.

If a cool car drove by, Tony would stop in mid sentence and mid step and stare, entranced. Any parked sports car would get a close inspection. He had a way of looking at a car both reverently, like a man in love, and critically, like a serious aficionado. He'd show off his knowledge and rattle off some facts for Phillip's benefit.

"I wanted to be his safe haven. I wanted him to know that he could come to me no matter what," Phillip said. He just wished it had been enough to anchor Tony and keep him from doing anything too crazy.

"Sounds like you were close," Leon said.

"In some ways. But that didn't mean that Tony listened to me. I would tell him to be more considerate to Franny and Moe, and he would tell me, 'I can't sit at home every night. I have to do my own thing.' It was all harmless fun until one night he stole a car and went joyriding. It was sheer luck that he escaped serious charges. But what about next time? I could see him spending his future in prison if he didn't end up dead. He didn't know how to slow down. It's like he was never afraid, so I was afraid for him, terrified really." Phillip remembered how fear had gripped him. He couldn't lose him too. "After the joyriding incident, I reacted rather strongly, told him he was ungrateful to Moe and Franny. I asked him, 'Do you think Mom and Dad would be proud of you for acting like this?' I just wanted to get through to him, to protect him from himself. He wanted his independence so badly, but I told him he couldn't be trusted and I was transferring schools to come home to watch over him. 'Don't bother because I won't be there,' Tony said then he stormed away."

They were both angry. Phillip hoped he hadn't meant what he said. "Whenever he stayed out after a fight with our foster parents, I always worried that he might run away for good. Every time he talked about going off somewhere for a taste of freedom, I was able to pull him back. That's why I tried not to fight with him so I could keep him grounded when he wanted to fly away. The next day after our fight, I got a call. 'I'm on a bus and I'm not telling you where it's going. I'll call you when I get somewhere good.'" Phillip stared off into the distance as he repeated his brother's words. He looked out his office window as if Tony might still be out there somewhere, always running farther away. Stars and city lights winked in the distance as the world sank into an even deeper blackness.

"You must have looked for him," Leon said and brought him back to the present.

Phillip turned to face him but kept his head down like there was a weight on his neck. "I did but I couldn't find him." Even when Phillip had a good job and the money to hire private investigators, it got him nowhere. Tony was difficult to track down, moving all the time. Only a few sporadic phone calls, sometimes months apart, kept Phillip from thinking the worst.

Their separation had been painful to bear even when Tony was alive, not getting to talk to him for months. "He did call me from time to time, usually around Christmas. Each time I let myself hope that he might be ready to return. Tony always hung up before I could talk him into coming back. Tracing the calls didn't do any good. Tony was always long gone."

"It sounds like you tried your best to be there for him," Leon pointed out.

"But maybe if I had taken a different approach, he might have come back, or maybe he wouldn't have left. If I had been more understanding." Phillip shook his head before the "what ifs" could take hold of his imagination and break his heart all over again.

"He lived his life the way he wanted to, didn't he?" Though he didn't know him, Leon was right about that.

"He did. It was always his dream to go out there in the world, somewhere where there was no one telling him what to do." Tony's eyes would shine when he talked about it. "I would just go and never stop. See every place you can drive to." He dreamed of the freedom to go anywhere he wanted, do anything he wanted. Most of the time that meant driving too fast and taking too many chances. "He was living dangerously and it caught up with him. I was called to identify the body." Phillip stopped, clenched his jaw. He fought against the memories and just kept talking, but not about that terrible phone call or what he saw at the morgue. "And I saw his wrecked car. According to the police, Tony had won the pink slip in an illegal race. A beautiful machine once. Bright red. It was a mass of twisted metal, a killing machine. It killed my brother, flipped and mangled him." Phillip shut his eyes tight against the painful images of his little brother dead and alive. His fists closed around the pages of the file still spread out on his desk.

"I'm so sorry," Leon said in a kind, hushed voice that barely seemed to disturb the silence of the deserted office. He cautiously placed his hands over Phillip's and gently pried them open so he wouldn't crush the papers.

Phillip opened his eyes. As he looked into Leon's sad, hazel eyes, he felt so confused for a moment. Was he looking at the past or the future? He was seeing his own pain reflected but there was something more. He wasn't sure what he saw there besides endless compassion before Leon let go of his hands and Phillip's vision cleared. Taking a deep breath, Phillip felt as if merely taking in a lungful of air hurt. It seemed impossible to just keep living.

No. Even if he didn't know how, he would keep going and find out if Tony's child existed. But right now, he had to get a hold of himself and stop taking advantage of his employee's kindness.

"Thank you for staying and listening to me, but you should really go home now," Phillip put just enough firmness into his voice so that Leon would know he should listen.

Leon got up. He made sure that Phillip didn't need anything more from him then he left. Once he was gone, the office seemed more forbidding and empty than before. It echoed with voices from a long time ago. Surrounded by so much gloom, Phillip almost regretted sending Leon away, but he really shouldn't have kept him so late in the first place.

He wished that he had realized sooner that it was past Leon's quitting time. It was a miracle he realized it at all. Phillip was so immersed in following the trails of Tony's search for his child. He might have gone on like that all night if Leon hadn't pushed him into having dinner. Asserting himself like that, his new assistant surprised him. He had seemed so listless his first day on the job.

It had certainly been a strange day. Phillip hadn't planned to have his unenthusiastic, new assistant handle any of the matters relating to Tony's possible child. But when he arrived at his office, Phillip felt like he might collapse under the strain of grief and that tiny hope that Tony's child was alive out there somewhere.

With Leon right there and ready to help, Phillip gave up some of his natural reserve. He just needed to lean on someone a little bit until he regained his equilibrium and could stand on his own two feet.

He never thought he would tell him about Tony either. Something about Leon made the words spill out. Tony came alive again, talked a mile a minute, got fired up over every new thing. Phillip's eyes fell on the name in the file – Tony Mortoni – and he remembered Tony's face when he saw the family tree their grandfather had drawn up decades before.

It was a thick, rolled up paper yellowed with age. The lines of ancestry had been made very straight and at the top, instead of Morton, it read Mortoni. When Tony saw that, he was ecstatic.

"Hey! Check it out. Our last name used to be Mortoni then some idiot in the early 1900s changed it to Morton," Tony said. "Oh, man, Franny and Moe will get a kick out of this too."

"I was going to show it to them next," Phillip told him. He was the one who had found the family tree.

"Ha! My name is Tony Mortoni. Tony More Tony." He laughed. "Come on. It's priceless. I'm changing it back. You should too. Phillip Mortoni. That sounds way cooler. Do it, man. We'll be the Mortoni brothers. It will be awesome. Do it with me. Come on."

It still made Phillip smile to think of that. It reminded him of all the times Tony tried to draw him into some scheme. Tony was always looking for an accomplice, but in Phillip, he only found an overprotective, older brother.

Tony would get so excited, talk fast, grab Phillip by the shoulders. It was like he could move mountains just by the force of his will. But his enthusiasm never lasted. He always moved on to something else – another project, another girl, another car.

After years of it, Phillip knew not to take him too seriously. He expected Tony would grow out of it, stop doing crazy things and settle down. Maybe he would have one day. He might have been a dad to that kid and maybe many more. Now only one little life might exist, all that remained of Tony, and that's why Phillip had to find Tara West and her child.

If only he had known sooner, he could have helped Tony find them. But Tony didn't come to him. The gulf between them always seemed to be widening. Phillip's stuffy existence was as alien to Tony as Tony's rootless life of thrills was to him. No matter how far apart they might be in outlook or physical distance, they were still brothers.

Phillip looked over at the mostly uneaten sandwich that Leon had gotten for him. Tony never left food on his plate or anyone else's plate either.

"You gonna finish that?" he would ask if Phillip so much as paused between bites.

He could hear him say those words then start stuffing his face with whatever was on Phillip's plate. He was so real and alive but only in Phillip's memories. Tony would never again pick food off his plate but refuse to get a second helping.

"Nah. I'm good," Tony would claim, talking with his mouth full.

Phillip couldn't come to terms with the finality of losing him. For years he held out hope that Tony might one day show up on his doorstep, maybe ask to sleep on his couch. He didn't know how to stop expecting him. He didn't know how to stop hoping that every unknown number on his phone might be Tony calling from God knows where.

All Phillip could do was bury himself in this search that Tony had sent him on. He took up the files from Mr. Poller, and he pored over every useless detail.

Phillip didn't think he could sleep at all, but he fell asleep at his desk. He opened his eyes as pale sunlight filled his office. Everything looked gray. For a moment he was disoriented.

Where was the green grass and the back yard fence that leaned over and fell when Tony tried to climb it? Phillip blinked away bright colored dreams of Tony as a child, and stood up from his desk on unsteady feet.

In the early dawn hours, Phillip headed home to shower and change. It was close to the start of the work day. People would be coming into the office soon, and Phillip didn't want his new assistant to find him still at his desk and start worrying about him again.

*

From sitting across from Mr. Morton then driving down nighttime streets, Leon had gone to his small, one bedroom apartment. All that time his head was filled with Mr. Morton's voice and the secondhand vision of what he had and what he lost. Leon had been lost in his eyes, yearning to reach across that desk to comfort him.

That's why he spent all night dreaming about him. Now it was morning and time for a cup of coffee and a reality check. Standing in his living room full of thrift store furniture, a makeshift bookshelf and a sagging couch, Leon tried, but he couldn't really imagine what it would be like to be with a man like Mr. Morton. He closed his eyes and put himself in Mr. Morton's arms, strong as steel, wrapped around him tightly while Leon looked into those kind, sad eyes.

Damn, but his boss's pain got to him. Leon wanted to shout to him, "I'm here." But what could he really do – not give him back his brother, not erase whatever he blamed himself for. Maybe he could offer him some kind of sexual distraction. Sure he could if he didn't have a meltdown as soon as a guy touched him.

Just as well that a relationship between them was out of bounds since Leon's sexual history was so scant. Failed dates, close encounters that went nowhere – Phillip Morton might turn into another one of those. And then Leon would be mortified and want to quit a job he barely started.

As things stood, his childhood had poisoned every chance he had of making a real physical connection with another man. Guys who were rough and too grabby got nothing. Even the guys who took it slow and easy were rewarded only with a halfhearted handjob. So far, Leon had managed a few blowjobs, but he couldn't throw himself into the experience with abandon the way he wanted to.

Then Phillip Morton came along, and Leon wanted to forget all about his own past and soothe his boss's pain. He made Leon wish so hard that he was normal and not just walking scar tissue. Being only twenty, Leon figured he had time to learn to enjoy sex. Now he felt rushed, like there was no time to waste.

His friends Lenny and Mike were pushing forty, and they had wisely told him, "Take it slow and don't sabotage yourself with more bad experiences."

They were right. Plus Leon wasn't really into just hooking up. Getting to know a guy first didn't work for him either. It hardly seemed right to drag a guy on a whole bunch of dates only to freeze up when it was time to deliver the goods.

That's why he was still like this. Since he turned eighteen, moved to Easton and started trying to get his sex life in gear, he had made very little progress and now that worried him. What if he somehow broke the barrier that now stood between him and Mr. Morton? Where would that leave him? Mr. Morton might pin him against a wall. Leon would feel his muscular body, his hard cock, start shaking and end up cowering in the corner. It was better never to get things started if that's how they were going to end – in humiliation and failure.

Chapter 4

Phillip arrived back at his office to find that Leon was already there. Unlike him, Leon looked bright eyed and blindingly handsome. Phillip hardly felt equipped to face him and pretend he was indifferent to his good looks. After thanking him for staying late and only a few quick words about business, Phillip retreated to his office.

He sighed as he saw his uncharacteristically messy desk. It wasn't like him to leave it looking like that, but he was only gone from the office long enough to get ready for work and head right back. He hardly felt refreshed or ready to handle any business.

Falling asleep at the office was the most sleep Phillip had gotten these last few days. It wasn't unusual for Phillip to stay late at the office and even spend all night there. No matter how tired he was, he had never slept slumped over his desk before.

Usually when he immersed himself in work, he was in his element and he felt like he could keep going forever. Acquiring Summit Consulting was an achievement he thought was years away, but the money he inherited from his parents put it within his reach. As far as he was concerned, he was living his dream.

When Phillip first joined the company, they had been efficiency consultants in name only. In reality their evaluations were designed to tell a company how many people they should fire and where to send their jobs overseas to maximize profits. Once Phillip got enough capital together and bought the company, he changed that as well as the name.

Now that the company bore his family name, they did real efficiency consulting. Though they sometimes had to advise their clients to cut their workforce, they also maximized profits by maximizing productivity through reduced waste of every resource like time, energy, materials as well as human resources like ability and training. They often made it possible for companies to stay in business and keep their employees working.

Now Phillip could be proud of the work they did, but these days work gave him little satisfaction. There was only one thing on his mind and he couldn't rest or focus on anything else until he found Tony's child.

It was past noon and Phillip was waiting for a new private investigator to update him on the search. Meanwhile he tried to do his job, but he just couldn't keep his hands off that file that held no clues. As he set it aside and forced himself to attend to a potential new client, Phillip heard Leon addressing someone in the outer office. His clipped tone made Phillip raise his head. The sight of a familiar face out there told him that he was about to take a break for lunch.

Ken arrived in his office unannounced, carrying a takeout bag, and his usual, insufferable attitude. Thin, blond, and impeccably dressed, he walked right past Leon at his desk.

When Leon tried to stop him, Ken didn't even pause. "I can see him in there and I'm here to feed him. You just sit there and look pretty."

Leon leaned over to give Phillip a questioning look. He nodded that it was OK for Ken to barge in.

"Hello, Ken. I guess it's lunchtime," Phillip said in greeting.

Ken was a good friend. They went from briefly being boyfriends to being exes to being best friends.

As Ken breezed in, he shut the door and marched up to Phillip's desk. "Since when don't you answer your phone at least to say you're busy?" he asked and glared at Phillip with his piercing blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I am busy."

"Don't tell me you're still trying to bury your grief in work," Ken scolded him, his pale eyebrows furrowing. He wasn't exactly tactful.

"That and a few other things," Phillip told him, not sure how to broach the subject of Tony's child.

"I see that you got yourself a cute assistant? That's so very unlike you. So what else aren't you telling me?"

Now that he had asked, Phillip had to tell him about Tony's possible child. The search for that child consumed him, but it wasn't easy to talk about, especially to a born skeptic like Ken. He managed to tell him about it though. Cue Ken, the perpetual naysayer.

"I understand why you're so determined to find this kid. Just remember you might be searching for a kid that doesn't exist. If this girl was even pregnant, she might have aborted or miscarried. Or she might have simply lied to make your brother chase after her."

"Your faith in human nature always lifts my spirits," Phillip said though he had wondered about some of the same things. He was driven by pure, blind hope but he held on to it for all he was worth.

"Sorry. I know this isn't what you want to hear." Ken did sound genuinely sorry as he tried to dash Phillip's hopes.

"I want to find this kid. I want him or her to be real," he stated simply. He wanted Ken to understand why he couldn't be more coolheaded and realistic about this.

"I want that for you too. You know I do. So what do you have so far?" Ken asked and set up the food he brought on Phillip's desk.

As Ken pulled a chair closer so he could eat, Phillip was reminded of Leon sitting across from him and listening to him when he most needed it. Remembering Leon's hazel eyes, Phillip had to take a moment to force himself to refocus on Ken – the man who was sitting across from him at the moment and waiting for Phillip to tell him what little he had to go on in his search.

"I contacted both of the private investigators Tony had hired. I have their reports, but I wanted to hear from them directly. Tony didn't have much money so they weren't very motivated."

"And your guy, I bet he's highly motivated," Ken said.

"She is. Asif recommended her. June Ackerman, she handled some challenging cases for his law firm. The private investigator who helped me look for Tony retired recently."

"Of course he did. He's probably living in Tahiti on all the money you paid him," Ken said. He always thought that Phillip searched for Tony too obsessively.

"When I spoke to Ackerman, she told me she's only taking this case for the sake of the child. She doesn't usually chase down missing exes," Phillip told him.

"She sounds sweet," Ken said as he speared his pasta a la vodka and bits of prosciutto with his fork.

"She sounds exactly the way I'd want an investigator to sound – tough and determined."

"Has she gotten anywhere?" Ken said. From his challenging tone, Phillip could tell how skeptical he was of the whole thing.

"She barely had time to get started, but Tara West's phone was on Tony's account during the time they were together so getting the phone records wasn't a problem. They are part of the file the lawyer gave me. There was only a few months worth of calls, but there was one phone call that stood out. It only lasted a few seconds as if she hung up just as it connected. The other investigator dismissed it as a misdial since there was another number dialed soon after. They never followed up."

"Phillip, that doesn't sound very promising," Ken said, worried that Phillip was hanging his hopes on so little.

"We'll see. Ackerman is going to update me later today."

Ken made an unhappy noise then took a big bite of his pasta.

"I wish Tony would have come to me. I could have helped him find her. He searched for three years without a word to me." Phillip shook his head. He had always been so harsh with Tony when he asked him for money, telling him he had to pay his own way. "If you want it that bad, earn the money yourself," he would tell him. Phillip wanted him to be responsible and self-reliant, but this was different. This was about family. Didn't Tony know that? Maybe he didn't. Phillip's stubbornness had cost him his brother and now might cost him a niece or nephew too.

Noticing his dour mood, Ken leaned over his desk. "Look at you. You're in bad shape already, and you're setting yourself up for disappointment. Please be realistic about this," Ken begged him while he frowned at him sternly. "You let the search for Tony take over your life. Don't let that happen again, please. I know you blame yourself for your brother leaving, but even if there was a baby, a kid can't bring Tony back to life."

"I know that. I'm not trying to resurrect Tony. I'm fulfilling his last request," Phillip stated as calmly as he could.

Ken obviously didn't believe him. "I think Tony has found yet another way to break your heart."

"Ken, don't," Phillip said. It was all stuff he had heard before. Ken blamed Tony for everything he didn't like about Phillip.

Predictably, Ken opened his mouth to barrage him with more negativity.

"Thank you for your advice," Phillip said, cutting him off. Then he added more mildly, "And thank you for listening to me and looking out for me. And for feeding me." He knew Ken meant well.

"Does a humanitarian medal of the year come with this thank you speech?" Ken said archly.

"I just want you to know I appreciate you."

"But you don't listen to me," Ken complained then he gave Phillip a break and talked about himself for the rest of his visit.

A little while later, Ken left but only after lecturing Phillip about finishing his lunch. Oscillating between hope and grief, he had barely touched the food Ken got him.

What Ken said weighed on him. Leon had been much easier to talk to, less judgmental certainly. Catching himself comparing Leon and Ken. Phillip grumbled inwardly. Leon was his employee. Ken was his ex. There was no reason to compare them.

Phillip was already full of misgivings, and his talk with Ken only intensified them. But Ken was right. He was trusting the word of a woman he didn't know, a drug user with a fake name. Phillip questioned whether there really was a child. He might be pinning his hopes on a lie. As his doubts threatened to crush him, he put in a call to Ackerman.

"Sorry. I know you said you would call me," Phillip said as soon as she picked up.

"That's because I wanted to have something more substantial to report."

"Please tell me whatever you have so far."

"I looked into that phone number, the possible misdial. It's a landline in Danning."

"Danning? That's so close," Phillip said, his heart beating fast at the thought that his niece or nephew might be there. It was only a few hours drive.

"The phone number is registered to an elderly woman, Lillian Margery Lasic. I have her address but I don't know much more than that. There was no answer when I called the number. I'll keep trying. I'm also looking into some background information on Lillian Lasic. Tomorrow I'll be going to Danning to track her down in person and hopefully interview her."

Tomorrow was too far away. Phillip had to know as soon as possible. "I don't want to wait. I can go there today. I'll leave right now."

"I don't recommend that," Ackerman said in a sharp voice.

"I understand, but I can't wait until tomorrow when I can be in Danning in two hours."

After getting the address from Ackerman, Phillip called Leon into his office.

"Is it really OK that blond guy barging in here like that?" Leon asked.

"His name is Ken. He's a good friend," Phillip said then he noticed that Leon looked displeased.

"I'm sorry if his behavior bothered you. He can be a little abrasive. I'll ask him to apologize if you like," Phillip offered.

"No, it's fine. He was very blond," Leon said sounding almost jealous.

For some reason that pleased Phillip, but then he got serious and told Leon, "Clear my schedule for the rest of the day. Cancel everything."

"Even your meeting with..."

"Everything."

"Delegate, reassign, reschedule, you mean," Leon said. At the moment he cared more about business than his boss.