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On Shaky Ground
On Shaky Ground
On Shaky Ground
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On Shaky Ground

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Martin Graham built his business from the ground up with hard work and intuition. Due to a degenerative eye disease, he’s learned to rely on his other senses to feel out the competition. To realize his dream, he just needs to broker one last deal… and finally secure an assistant.

Brock Littleton is desperate for money—desperate enough take the job no one else wants: assistant to demanding, fussy, intensely private Mr. Graham.

Everything about Brock gets under Martin’s skin in ways he never expected, making him realize a successful business isn’t the only component to a happy future. But as Martin’s deal comes together, one of the prices could be the relationship with Brock that Martin is just starting to believe could be real.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 14, 2019
ISBN9781644054413
On Shaky Ground
Author

Andrew Grey

Andrew Grey is the author of more than one hundred works of Contemporary Gay Romantic fiction. After twenty-seven years in corporate America, he has now settled down in Central Pennsylvania with his husband of more than twenty-five years, Dominic, and his laptop. An interesting ménage. Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He is a recipient of the RWA Centennial Award, has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee, and now writes full-time. Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing). He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania. Email: andrewgrey@comcast.net Website: www.andrewgreybooks.com

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    Book preview

    On Shaky Ground - Andrew Grey

    Table of Contents

    Blurb

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Epilogue

    More from Andrew Grey

    About the Author

    By Andrew Grey

    Visit Dreamspinner Press

    Copyright

    On Shaky Ground

    By Andrew Grey

    Martin Graham built his business from the ground up with hard work and intuition. Due to a degenerative eye disease, he’s learned to rely on his other senses to feel out the competition. To realize his dream, he just needs to broker one last deal… and finally secure an assistant.

    Brock Littleton is desperate for money—desperate enough take the job no one else wants: assistant to demanding, fussy, intensely private Mr. Graham.

    Everything about Brock gets under Martin’s skin in ways he never expected, making him realize a successful business isn’t the only component to a happy future. But as Martin’s deal comes together, one of the prices could be the relationship with Brock that Martin is just starting to believe could be real.

    Chapter 1

    GOOD MORNING, Mr. Graham, Edna said quietly, without her usual enthusiasm.

    Martin paused on his way past the desk to his office. What are you doing here this early? It was about six thirty, his usual time of arrival, and most mornings he was alone. He used that first hour to catch up on his email and messages, as well as to plan his day.

    Kelly quit last night, Edna explained, exasperation coloring her voice. That’s the third assistant in four months. These kids don’t have what it takes to stick it out for anything. She paused in her typing. I thought I’d come in early to make sure everything was up to date before I went back down to HR.

    The chair squeaked as Edna leaned back. Martin knew that squeak; he heard it every time his assistant moved in that chair. They complained about it, but that sound was one of the constants in his life, an audible clue that told him something about the mostly shadowed world around him.

    Can you find me another assistant? he asked, suppressing a sigh. Maybe one who doesn’t spend her days humming some ridiculous tune or tapping a damn pen whenever she gets nervous, which seemed to be all the dang time. He clenched the hand not holding his briefcase.

    The chair squeaked again, and he turned his head toward the sound. Her hands thunked on the desk, and Martin resisted the urge to lean in closer to try to see her better. He already knew it wasn’t of any use. To him, she was little more than an outline against the light from the windows and her desk lamp, a moving specter from one of the old black-and-white films he used to watch as a kid.

    Can I be frank, Martin?

    You can be anyone you want to be, he quipped in his best Groucho Marx imitation. It garnered stone-cold silence for a few beats.

    Martin, I don’t honestly know if I can find another, but I’ll try. The entire office has heard how hard it is to work for you. I could double the salary of the position and no one would apply, and you know it.

    They hate me that much? Martin asked, his anger rising.

    She sighed extra loudly, clearly wanting him to hear it. No, they don’t. This is a good company. The people who work here respect you. They’ve seen what you’ve built. You’ve created an incredibly open and nurturing environment for everyone. Opinions are respected and listened to, you value and reward diligence, and we have flexible schedules as much as possible. And our turnover is incredibly low, except for one particular position—the one who sits at this desk.

    Martin humphed, walking past the desk to go into his office.

    Stop, Edna said after he opened the door. I haven’t gone in there yet. The chair squawked loudly as she got up, and her hand patted his arm as she went by.

    What is it? Martin asked, as though he couldn’t guess.

    She rearranged your things, Edna said. Give me a few minutes.

    He peered in through the open door and sighed at the outline of the furniture against the increasing light coming from the windows. He had done his office in dark furniture with light walls and carpet to allow him to see the contents a little better. Martin groaned, searching for one of his chairs with his hand. He found it and lowered himself into it.

    Edna grunted as she moved things back into the right spots. I think that’s much better. At least you aren’t going to hurt yourself. Still, she took his arm and gently guided him to his desk, where Martin felt the top and then his chair before sitting down.

    Fuck it all, he hated feeling like a stranger fumbling in the dark in his own environment.

    Just get me another assistant, and this time make sure they can follow directions, Martin snapped. "That’s all I ask. Someone who won’t decide their desk would be better closer to the window and shift it before I come in, so I nearly trip over the damn thing. Maybe someone who can figure out that moving all of my files to the top cabinet drawers so they don’t have to bend down is not a good idea. I need things to be where I expect them to be, not rearranged for their own convenience. He made a fist and pounded the desk. Someone who realizes that I’m paying them to actually help me, rather than painting their nails, thinking that because I can’t see means I can’t smell. And on top of it, I have a goddamned allergic reaction. He jumped to his feet and somehow managed not to bang his knees on the desk. Do you think you can do that?"

    I’ll try, Edna said in her usual unflappable tone.

    I’m not angry with you, Martin said as his frustration melted away.

    I know that, Martin, and I’ll do my very best to find someone. I’m going to try a different route this time, and it’s undoubtedly going to cost more to fill the position. He felt rather than heard retreating footsteps moving toward his door, their reverberations getting softer under his feet.

    I don’t care. Just find someone who will actually act like my assistant. He sat back down. I really need some help, Edna. This Cartwright Global deal is going to make us a force to be reckoned with, but it’s taking more and more of my time. He was stretched thin as it was, and without an assistant, he was going to get further and further behind.

    I understand. I’ll send Carol over for a few hours this morning to help you out. Be good to her. He could hear her smile.

    I like Carol, Martin said.

    I do too. But remember, she’s my assistant, and I do my very best to make sure she’s happy.

    Edna and Carol had worked together ever since Martin had started Graham Consolidated Financial ten years ago. They made a formidable team, and more than once Martin had thought of trying to steal Carol away but resisted. He knew that when a truly great team formed, one should nurture it. Besides, he wasn’t that selfish.

    Of course. Martin smiled. And, Edna, thank you for all your help. He properly positioned and then opened his computer, glad it was still reasonably where he liked it. Using voice commands, he started reviewing his

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