Coda Books 04 - Strawberries for Dessert (MM)

wasn’t done. “All of this has been managed for me by Chester since—well, since before the money was even mine, to tell you the truth. I live my life, I spend what I need, I do what I want, and Chester is there to tell me if anything goes wrong.”
    He stopped again, and this time I asked, “What does this have to do with me?”
    “Three weeks ago, Chester informed me that he is retiring. He’s been hounding me mercilessly to find a replacement ever since.” He stopped short again, and his voice was quieter when he started talking again. “It took me that long to get up enough nerve to call.”
    “You’re offering the job to me?”
    “Is that not what I’ve just been explaining, sweetie?”
    “What does this mean for us?” I asked.
    It took him a moment to answer, and he still wasn’t looking at me. “It has nothing to do with us at all,” he said quietly, and it was like being punched in the stomach. “It’s a job. Nothing more.”
    “Then why me?” I asked. “There are a million accountants out there for you to choose from.”
    And for the first time, he flipped his hair back out of his eyes, and he met my gaze evenly. “Because I trust you, Jon.” Hearing him say my name almost undid me. My eyes closed, and I had to concentrate on just breathing. “It would be very easy for somebody in this position to steal from me, and I know that you won’t. It’s that simple.”
    It made sense, and yet I didn’t care. I felt like my heart was breaking all over again. I only wanted him. “Cole,” I reached over and took his hand, and this time he let me. “I’ll do anything you want. Just come back.”
    His eyes closed, and I felt him trembling. And slowly, very slowly, he pulled his hand away from mine. “Please don’t, Jon,” he said in a shaky whisper. “Please don’t make me cry here.” And I realized that was why he had insisted on meeting in a public place: so that he would have to keep his distance, to keep his walls in place. I fought back my own tears, staring at the table in front of me.
    “I realize,” he finally said, and his voice was still strained from the effort of keeping his emotions in check, “that it may seem strange to think of me as your employer. But I assure you, it won’t feel that way. Chester and I probably spoke once or twice a year at best, and then only when he felt I needed to know something. You will be your own boss, really. I won’t be looking over your shoulder.” I had been so busy thinking about how much I missed him that I hadn’t managed to think that far ahead. But now that he said it, I realized it should have occurred to me, and it was good to know that we wouldn’t have these awkward meetings often, because this one was more painful that I could stand. “Will you do it?”
    I didn’t really even have to think about it. “I haven’t done any personal accounting in years. I’ll have to brush up on it.”
    “Does that mean yes?”
    “How much?” I asked. It felt cheap to ask him about salary, but a job was a job. My new one didn’t pay all that well, and my savings account was getting frighteningly low. He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and slid it across the table to me. The number he had written on it surprised me enough that I looked up at him again. It was more than I had been making after nine years at my old job. “This is too much,” I said.
    And just barely, he smiled at me. “That’s thirty percent less than I was paying Chester. You see, love?” And I winced at that pet name.
    “You’re saving me money already. I’ll have Chester call you. He’ll want to meet with you at least once, I’m sure. He’s an arrogant, homophobic asshole, but he’s very thorough.”
    “I’ll be expecting his call.”
    “Thank you.”
    He stood up then and turned to leave, and without even thinking about it, I reached out and grabbed his hand. “Cole, please don’t go.”
    “I have to,” he said, but he didn’t pull away.
    I couldn’t even look at him. I felt my control slipping. I kept my eyes on his slender fingers, trapped in mine. “Cole,” I said, my voice shaking, “I can’t stand this. I lov—”
    But before I could finish, his fingers were against my lips, stopping my words. “Shhh,” he said. One of his hands was still in mine, but the other, the one he had used to quiet me moved slowly across my cheek, and I closed my eyes. His fingers went into my hair. I tightened my grip on his other hand, pulled