His Just Desserts
By Dakota Trace
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About this ebook
Growing up in a foster home in a small Midwest town, Sean Whitcomb planned from the day he turned sixteen to somehow escape. And he does to the big city of Des Moines at a lawyer’s firm. Now up for a shot at a partnership, he needs to deliver the goods, and it’s not what he thinks. No, it’s a family style meal for the founding partners and their spouses. Which causes Sean a major issue, because not only is he a single gay man, but he can’t cook to save his life, and his boss is expecting a home cooked meal — complete with a family or there will be no partnership offer.
In desperation, Sean turns to the man he left behind in his pursuit of the golden ring, Isaiah Waterston. Not only is Isaiah hot enough to still turn Sean’s crank but he’s also a world class chef at one of the hottest eateries in town. Now all he has to do is convince the man he’d left behind to give him a single night of his time, prepare a mouth-watering meal, and pretend to be his lover for a few hours. Sounds easy right? Well it is until Isaiah attaches his own stipulation –an entire weekend with Sean at his mercy.
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His Just Desserts - Dakota Trace
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His Just Desserts
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2013 by Dakota Trace
ISBN: 978-1-61333-571-0
Cover art by Tibbs Designs
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
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Also by Dakota Trace
Blind Need
His Just Desserts
By
Dakota Trace
Chapter One
Whitcomb, Gronberg needs to see you!
Looking up from his desk at Donnie Zylka, a fellow junior partner, Sean Whitcomb resisted the urge to sigh and pushed up his black-rimmed glasses. Nearing quitting time at the Law Firm of Sachse, Gronberg, and Filbeck, and he still had a stack of litigations to get through. He didn’t need the interruption, but he preferred a summons from Nicopolis Gronberg to being called on the rug by Tlotzin Filbeck. A shudder ran through him. The final member of the original partners who’d started the firm back in the late eighties rarely bothered to hide his distaste for homosexuality unless Nico happened to be around. It’s a good thing I’ve kept my sexual preference in the closet. The man would make him miserable if he knew.
If he had his way, Filbeck would retire in four months, not Dhanajit Sachse. The older Pakistani had come to America in the fifties as a young boy to pursue the American Dream. He didn’t begrudge Dhanajit his retirement, but he’d miss him. He’d recruited Sean and taken him under his wing when he passed the Iowa Bar, showing him the ropes at the firm. He’d given a white boy with no parents a chance to prove himself and a place to call home. In return, Sean worked long hours, neglected his love life, and worked his way up through the ranks until his billable hours put him in consideration for a partnership at the age of thirty-two. But his efforts might be for naught if the idiot in front of him had his say.
You coming? He said today, not tomorrow, dude.
Donnie drummed his fingers on the doorframe.
Shorter than him by several inches, his co-worker with the slicked back hair and pin-striped suit with wide lapels sent a shudder though him. In sharp contrast to his own well-tailored suits that clung to his tall body, Donnie looked like a mobster gone wrong. Sean dressed and styled his hair like the well-to-do lawyer he was, rather than some bit player in The Godfather.
Yeah, I’m coming.
Pushing back from his desk, he grabbed his electronic tablet. It paid to be prepared. One never knew what Nico might ask of him. The one time he forgot his faithful tablet, his boss had recited a long list of potential clients, which had challenged his damn near photographic memory.
Following Donnie down the hall, he slipped into the zone to prepare himself. After being shown in by the secretary, he waited to be acknowledged. He hated standing around. Nico’s chair squeaked when his boss spun around to face them.
Gentlemen, thank you for joining me.
Nico, looking suave yet relaxed in his gray suit sans jacket, leaned back in his seat. Glancing from him to Donnie and back, he crossed his arms over his immaculate white dress shirt. As you’re aware, this firm has always been family-oriented and will continue to be so.
Of course, Nico. It’s one of the reasons I applied here. As a youngster, I listened to Uncle Tlotzin brag about the firm and how they took care of him.
Donnie sported a slimy smile, ever the ass licker.
Sean wanted to groan. The fool had applied to and been hired by SG&F because his uncle covered for his laziness. How he’d passed the Bar mystified Sean. Anywhere else, his lack of work ethic would’ve had him fired.
A tight smile crossed Nico’s face. I’m well aware of how you came to be part of my firm, Donnie. You’re lucky, I don’t have the sole choice on who replaces Dhanajit.
Donnie stiffened. With that being said, before Tlotzin, Dhanajit, or I can make a decision on who will fill the open partnership slot, we’re hoping to observe you in your home environments. In other words, outside of work. The partners represent the firm at various charities and functions. Seeing how you interact with your families will give us a good idea of what to expect if we offer either of you the position. As his last duty as partner, Dhanajit came up with a simple idea of how to accomplish this.
What idea?
Sean shifted his weight forward, his stomach fluttering with nerves. He didn’t like the direction of the conversation. He had no family, no life outside of work. How could he show—
Each of you needs to plan a social function, perhaps a dinner, for all three founding partners: Dhanajit and his wife, Filbeck and his wife, and myself and my husband. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, but something you’d enjoy eating on the weekend. No takeout.
Nico eyed them. Don’t assume for a moment that having a family, Donnie, gives you an advantage.
It won’t?
Donnie sneered. With all due respect, Nico, Sean doesn’t have a family. He doesn’t go out. Uncle told me the other day how he didn’t have a steady girlfriend…that he might be a queer.
Nico’s nostrils flared. You care to rephrase that?
Donnie’s gaze darted to the floor, then up. I didn’t mean anything derogatory. Just an observation.
You better not have, because if I thought for a moment you were judging the people around you based on their sexual orientation, you’d be fired, nephew or not. I tolerate many things, but sexual harassment and/or gay bashing aren’t among them. Am I understood?
Donnie swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Yes, sir.
Nico gave a short nod. Then his attention drifted to Sean. As I mentioned, I realize you’re not married. Which won’t be held against you, as not everyone gets married at a young age, like Donnie did. A significant other, girlfriend, or a boyfriend, if that’s the case, will suffice. You understand? Being dedicated to all work and no play isn’t good either.
Yes, sir.
Good. Either way, gentlemen, I want you to remember the goal of this dinner. We want to meet the men behind the lawyers, so there will be no catering in. I don’t care if you have to make macaroni and cheese and hot dogs, the partners want you to work with your family to create a filling meal for us. Do you understand?
Yes.
Sean forced the word past his suddenly tight throat. Where the hell am I going to come up with a gay lover who can cook?
Of course, Mr. Gromberg.
Donnie rubbed his hands on his pants. Excitement glimmered in his gaze. He had good reason to be excited. His wife owned her own catering service. As a master chef, she provided haute cuisine for most of the firm’s clients.
My secretary will help you arrange the date.
Sighing, Nico dismissed them.
Dragging his butt back to his office with his precious date in hand, Sean didn’t know what to do. Staring out over the darkening Des Moines skyline, he tapped his fingers on the arms of his