Reservations

Thane went back to the desktop and took the time he’d been refusing himself for the last couple of hours, and sent his father’s secretary, Doris, an email asking about the possibility of securing family housing for a fall term medical student. Maybe less than a minute later, a message from Doris came back; she’d included Associate Vice Provost Lehman in her reply. Thane barely had time to read her message before Lehman responded, asking for Levi’s name and student ID number. For something as cumbersome as higher education, that had all happened way too easily. He sent Levi’s profile; that was all he had, and Lehman replied with a quick, “I’ll get them slated and confirm to you when complete. Should I contact the student directly?”

Thane immediately shook his head at the monitor. Oh no. No contact. He panicked, letting his fingers fly over the keyboard, maybe faster than he had ever typed before. “No. Please send me the information. I’ll forward.”

Seconds felt like hours as he waited until he got the simple “will do” email in return. His heart hadn’t settled when Jenna stuck her head through his open doorway.

“Your car’s here,” she said. “You only have to stay at the gala through cocktails—no later than seven. The car will wait for you.”

“Okay. I’ll be down in a minute,” he replied and sat back in his seat, scrubbing a hand down his face. If the school contacted Levi, would they inadvertently out him? Most likely. He had to remember that in all this finagling he was doing. Reaching for the power button on his computer, his inbox flashed again as a new message appeared. He stared at the screen, the defeat at seeing the name of the sender was debilitating. Man, how he wished he’d gotten up and left when Jenna first came to the door. Doris hadn’t included his father in her forward, but still must have shared the information. Damn. Thane reached for his mouse and clicked open the email.

“Let’s catch up this Friday. I have time between one and three. My office hasn’t changed.”

Fuck. Sending a few emails for Levi was one thing, meeting with his father was a whole different matter. This weird internal battle he’d been facing just spiked to an all-time high of anxiety. His stomach churned in automatic defiance, and he scolded himself for ever emailing Doris in the first place.

Karma was already paying his ass back for this.

“Calm down,” Thane demanded of himself and manned-up to type a quick message in return.

“I’m tied up Friday.” Clear and to the point.

The response was immediate, and clearly, his old man didn’t want to be put off. “Saturday or Sunday then. Lunch or dinner at the Iron Maya. I’m looking forward to the new menu.”

Thane sat back in his chair. In the sixish years he’d had this company, he and his father had never shared a meal together in one of his restaurants. Up until right this minute, he’d have assumed his father didn’t even know what he did for a living.

The cynical side of Thane had him wondering what this meeting actually meant, what game his father was playing.

On the flip side, by going, maybe he could secure the housing Levi needed. Levi, a man who made him laugh. A man who, when he danced with Thane, fit so perfectly against him that it felt like Levi was made to be in his arms. A man he couldn’t stop thinking about. A man he’d considered the L-word with.

Could Thane tolerate his father’s presence to help Levi? The honest truth was he’d walk through fire to help Levi. His eyes closed as dread coiled in his gut. A single meeting didn’t mean he owed his father anything. He typed a quick message, tentatively accepting an invitation for Sunday brunch before shutting off his computer.

Numbness took over. He refused to consider what he’d just done or the level of distrust he had toward his old man. Thane went for the door, patting his pockets. His phone and wallet were where they should be. Maybe that was a sign he was finally pulling his shit back together.

~~~

Levi tugged on his jeans while stepping into his sandals. The yawn he’d been stifling turned into a jaw-cracker that he felt all over his tired body. He’d never worked this late, those last few hours in the club were coveted time slots, and he could certainly see why. Even with half the regular clientele, Levi had solidly banked. After the midnight hour, the men who had come there with purpose began to find their companions. Something about the prospect of getting lucky made them big spenders. To impress, they dropped fifty-dollar tips instead of twenties, and that was all right by Levi.

The only negative was that it was close to three o’clock in the morning. He had to be at the clinic in six hours, work all day there, then be back at the club by seven that evening. Levi tugged on his T-shirt, reached for his jacket, and slammed the locker closed. Maybe he could squeeze in a nap during his lunch break.