Only Box Set

Chapter 1Darrell 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. “Uh.” Crap. His first time talking to Travis and all he could make was a dumb ass sound. Travis’s expression was vaguely quizzical. He handed a manila folder to Darrell. “Here’s the information on the new client.” Darrell took the folder and merely stared at it, dumbfounded. Travis had never brought him client bills before. Usually if Travis had anything for him it came from the man’s admin assistant, Barnaby, a rather young, flamboyant gay man with bleached hair. Barnaby was a big flirt. “Where’s Barnaby?” he blurted out. Travis smiled, showing off the dimples also often featured in Darrell’s fantasies. “Called in sick. I think he just had a little bit too much fun last night.” “Did you spend it together?” Damn, he’d just asked that out loud, hadn’t he? What the hell was the matter with him? Travis laughed. “No.” Darrell set the file down and picked up some papers, shuffling them. He couldn’t look at Travis. “Sorry. I mean, I’m sure you don’t…er…fraternize with the staff.” “It’s not that, really. Barnaby isn’t my type.” “Oh.” Oh. Well, Darrell now knew the answer regarding Travis’s s****l preference. Tamping down his disappointment, reminding himself again he’d never had a chance in a million years anyway, he plastered on a smile. “I’ll get that information in the system right away.” “I appreciate that. Have a good rest of the day.” And with a small wave, Travis disappeared from view. “i***t,” Darrell muttered to himself. * * * * Even though he got to the office first, Darrell was often among the last to leave. At least of the non-attorney members of the staff. It was a little after six that night when he finally shut down his computer and headed to the front glass doors. The threatened storm had arrived an hour earlier with light rain and the downpour had begun twenty minutes ago. Darrell had planned to be gone before the heavy rain started, but hadn’t been able to tear himself away from a particular challenging client billing. Darrell now wished he had grabbed an umbrella when he’d left his apartment that morning. His glasses would be covered in spots by the time he got to his car. Grimacing, he opened the doors and hurried out to his car, pressing the unlock button as he ran. He wiped off his glasses, turned the key in the ignition, and cursed out loud when it just moaned. “No! Come on.” Darrell tried the key two more times. He jumped when he heard a sharp tap on his passenger window. Swallowing a trickle of unease, he opened the door and got out. Travis Anderson stood next to his car holding a large black umbrella. “Hey, Darrell. Car trouble?” He nodded. “Won’t start.” “Why don’t I give you a ride home? You can deal with the car tomorrow when the weather’s better. Hopefully.” His heart hammering hard, Darrel shook his head. “I, uh, don’t want to impose. I can probably call someone.” Travis smiled. “It’s no imposition, Darrell. Come on. The sooner you agree, the sooner we can both get out of the rain.” “Okay, thanks.” He followed Travis to the man’s Honda sedan. For some reason, Darrell had expected Travis to drive a fancy luxury car. “Where can I take you?” Travis asked as they got inside. His mind turned traitor on him and he almost had to bite his tongue off to keep from saying something hokey like “right here, baby.” Get a hold of yourself. “Burbank.” “Just program your address in my GPS. Or wait. Are you hungry?” Feeling a little lightheaded, Darrell heard his voice squeak out, “Yeah.” “Great, let’s stop somewhere on the way.” “Sounds good.” Darrell turned his face away from Travis’s scrutiny, certain the man could read his thoughts even in the dark car. He had to remind himself it was just a casual bite to eat on the way home. A favor from his boss. Nothing more.