Only Box Set

Darrell Lincoln pulled into his parking spot, turned off his car, got out, and locked it. He was fairly geeked he had been given his own parking space since being hired as the financial manager at Anderson, Llewellyn, and Stevens.

He approached the front door, office keys in hand. He prided himself on always being the first one to the office. Only Darrell, the office manager, Kim, and the three partners had keys to the front door.

Darrell was the first one in his family to have finished college and he was damn proud of his business and finance degree. Things were going so well, he was considering purchasing a home. Maybe someday he’d find a person to share it with.

He shook his head. He really needed to stop thinking in nonspecific gender terms. He knew very well he spoke of a man. He’d been openly gay for several years now.

Earlier in the year, the law firm had installed sensor lights so as he walked down the hall toward his cubicle the lights flared on. Darrell powered on his computer and went to make a pot of coffee. He opened the fridge in the firm’s kitchen, checked on the amount of liquid creamers they had, and marked the list for the office manager for the ones getting low. This was his usual routine

After grabbing a cup of coffee in his mug, he went back to his desk to read his emails. It was only seven so he knew no one else would be in for a while.

He checked the weather report on his favorite news station’s website. They were on storm watch. Darrell rolled his eyes. Southern California always carried on about a little bit of rain. Probably would be less than a quarter inch if that.

The sound of the office front doors opening startled him. He stood up, craning over the top of his cubicle. Who besides himself would come in now? No one ever did.

Four of the firm’s attorneys filed through the door. He was pretty friendly with the woman, Mary Biggs. She was probably the nicest attorney there, really. Mary and two of the men with her were associates. Darrell knew them, but they were always very businesslike. He’d never exchanged any personal information with either of them. Suited him fine, too.

But the fourth attorney happened to be Travis Anderson, one of the partners, and Darrell’s big time crush. The man’s golden blond hair looked vaguely mussed like from the wind. He laughed at something one of the others said, showing his perfect white teeth and dimples on either side of his sensual lips. Darrell’s gut twisted and he sat down fast, hoping they didn’t notice him gaping at them over his cubicle.

It was rare for Travis to even be in the office. Most days, it seemed to Darrell, he was in a trial. Travis was a big time, successful trial attorney, well sought after by corporate clients. He couldn’t even think of a case Travis hadn’t won.

This Thursday morning his crush had dressed in a dark charcoal Armani suit with a crisp white dress shirt and a turquoise silk tie. Darrell was pretty sure it was close to matching the man’s eyes.

He hadn’t been on a date in months, and he’d never dated a white guy, but since working at the firm, Darrell found he didn’t want anyone else. Stupid, of course. He didn’t even know if Travis was gay, and even if he was he didn’t seem to know Darrell existed. Someone like Travis—handsome, outgoing, well-off—would never want a quiet, shy, numbers geek. Only in his dreams.

They’d not had even one conversation. Which made Darrell’s infatuation that much more pathetic.

Mary, a still attractive woman in her fifties, came around the wall of his cubicle. “Good morning, Darrell.”

“Good morning. I’m surprised to see you all so early.”

She nodded. “We needed to meet about a big new client and this week is the only time Travis had to meet with us. He wanted to get an early start. I hope this means there’s coffee.”

He smiled. “Of course. You want me to bring it in to the meeting?”

Mary rolled her eyes. “God, no, we can get our own coffee. I’ll talk to you later.”

She scurried away down the hall toward the direction of the conference room and Darrell opened up his billing file to get to work.

“Hi, Darrell.”

Darrell froze in the middle of typing in a code, his back ramrod straight and to the person who spoke. He knew the voice well. It starred in a number of his fantasies. Swallowing back his gasp of surprise, he turned his chair to face Travis Anderson.

Travis had removed his suit coat and had loosened the turquoise silk tie just a fraction. Just enough for Darrell’s eyes to stray to the smooth, pale throat. He then forced his gaze upward to the chiseled jawline, and ah, hell, the lips, turned up just a tad at the corners. Up to the perfect patrician nose, obviously never broken, past the high cheekbones to those incredible blue eyes framed by golden lashes. Darrell thought he might swallow his own tongue.