1 Chapter 1

“Goddamnit, I’m sick of this,” Martin said in an undertone. He pulled a pencil from behind his ear and picked up his notepad.

“Take all the time you need.”

As usual Mr. Ryder’s voice was dripping with sweet sarcasm. He’d had it with this job, but he had to stick it out a while longer. Martin had been working for Ryder and Associates for just over three months now but it felt more like three years. He had nine more to go, then he could put a year at the East Coast’s top architectural firm on his résumé and he’d be set career-wise for life.

“Call legal and ask them what the progress is on the London acquisition. I want a full status report before noon. Also, did you confirm the travel arrangements for Mr. Steiner and his wife?”

“Working with his people on that—they wanted the presidential suite at the Seasons but it had already been booked for the preferred dates.”

“When I finish designing the Steiner buildings they will own the New York skyline, hell, they’ll own this entire city. Make it happen.”

“Yes, sir,” Martin said. He often wondered how someone so immaculately handsome could be such a world-class jerk. It was at times like these that he wondered how he’d make it through the next hour, much less nine months. He didn’t ponder it for too long, since he’d learned his boss didn’t take kindly to hovering. Knowing when Andrew Ryder was done with you and when you’re no longer needed had become something of an art. It was the one piece of advice his boss’s previous assistant had given him before running out with mascara dripping down her face. He started backing away from the desk.

* * * *

Martin saw his friend waiting patiently in the lobby for him. He smiled a greeting but as usual she started the conversation before he could even get a word in.

“I really needed this lunch hour,” Michelle said. She was one of the only rays of light in Martin’s working day.

“I told you that you can come up to the office to fetch me, you won’t die, you know,” Martin said. He loved his best friend since they’d met first year of university and loved the chance to catch up on their weekly lunches. Aside from Michelle, Chris, his younger brother, was his only real family. His brother was still at school and far too wise for his own good. Martin was proud of the fact that he had kept their family together and functioning after his mom’s untimely passing from cancer the year before. His brother had only been sixteen, and he twenty-three when their mother had passed, and it was wrong for someone to have to bury their mother at such a young age. They only had four months from diagnosis to arranging the funeral, but they had made every second of those four months count.

“I won’t go near there. From what I’ve heard about your boss, I wouldn’t want to meet him on his best day.”

“I swear I don’t know how I’ll manage it for another nine months. He’s just so…”

“Unbelievably hot? Beautiful, some might even say. Dark and handsome.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I read you like a book. You know that,” Michelle said. She smiled the cheeky grin that always made him squirm. For a straight female, Michelle was pretty clued up on the way a gay man’s head worked. Martin suspected she was a gay man deep down.

“Don’t talk about Mr. Ryder like that. It’s best I only think of him as an incredibly handsome but miserable old dragon. Besides, the effect of his looks fades very quickly once you spend time with him. I don’t even notice any longer.”

“Don’t even try that,” Michelle said as they exited the building and made their way down the road. “No red blooded gay guy can be immune to that much hotness. He is hot and you know you’d tap that if you had half the chance.”

It’s true he still noticed the broody handsomeness of his boss, even though at the same time he felt distaste for him. It was a contrast that made him doubt his own sanity at times.

“Look, I won’t say that he isn’t appealing to me. But he has the personality of a troll.”

“How else do you become the youngest millionaire CEO in New York?”

“That’s beside the point,” Martin said as he sidestepped a homeless guy who thrust his empty cup in their faces and demanded lunch money. “You can still be a success without selling your soul. Or being devoid of a personality.”

“I think your Nordic looks starkly contrast his heavy dark Irish features.” Michelle smiled her smile again. “Maybe you guys should just screw already and have him buy you a yacht and call it a day.”

“I just want my tuna melt and spend some time with my bestie before I have to head back to the office again,” Martin said and opened the door to their favorite eatery.