Gifts for the Season - R.J. Scott Page 0,10

boy, but he gathered himself quickly, “That would be the fruit and cheese platter. It has one the best aged blue cheeses I’ve ever tasted.”

Cole’s eyes were fixed on his mouth, his hooded eyes revealing his want, and before Spencer knew it, he was leaning closer as Cole’s moist lips beckoned him to take what they’d been dancing around all evening. They paused a breath away from each other, inhaling in anticipation, perhaps both waiting on the other to seal the deal. And fuck did Spencer find that attractive. Cole wasn’t a taker; he didn’t feel entitled to anything Spencer had to offer. He simply waited patiently. A throat clearing nearby severed their connection, and Spencer felt his face warm when he noticed that not only was Cole’s friend gawking at them, but so were most of his coworkers… and boss.

Damnit.

“Well, I think you’re in capable hands, brother. I’m going to head home now and try to enjoy my last few moments of peace in my house before the in-laws swarm in like goddamn hornets tomorrow.” Gerald stood as Lyndon motioned for the doorman to bring his jacket and overcoat. After he finished helping him into it, Spencer’s assistant accepted Gerald’s outstretched hand and told him he was welcome for the service and to come back soon.

“I’ll come see you anytime, Lyn.” Gerald smiled as he rotated his neck. “Those knots are practically nonexistent now.”

“Be sure to sign us up for their platinum membership, Gerald, and settle the tab with the company’s credit card. No worries. This place is great, man. Thanks a lot for bringing me.” Cole’s gaze met Spencer’s as desire pooled in his warm brown eyes. “Besides, I have a feeling we’ll be spending more evenings here after the New Year.”

“Alright, then!” Gerald beamed.

“Merry Christmas.” Cole stood to give Gerald a one-armed hug that turned into a full embrace. “I know I’ve been a fucking grinch the past month. The holidays without Coleman just really get to me.”

“Hey. I get it. I do.” Gerald waved, and Spencer stood to shake his hand. “See that my friend goes home happy, will ya?”

“Sorry. It’s not that kinda establishment,” Spencer mocked, shooting Cole a sideways sexy glance.

They laughed at Spencer’s joke, and Gerald waved him off. “You know what I meant.”

“I do.” Spencer nodded. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Paddock. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening, and have a safe holiday.”

“You too, Spencer Underwood.” Gerald left, and Lyndon followed to finalize the transaction and of course to make sure their new premier customers got signed up properly.

“I’m going to make sure Lyndon has everything I want on the platter; I’ll be right back,” Spencer said, though he didn’t move. Lyndon knew full well what went on the platter. “Don’t disappear on me.”

“Not a chance.”

Spencer stood on shaky legs, his mind fuzzy, but he was confident he played it off as he walked through the lounge with his head high. A previous customer he used to service narrowed his eyes as he attempted to walk past. When the attorney grasped his hand, Spencer was polite but firm as he extracted his wrist from the man’s fist.

“Mr. Klein. Is there something I can have your attendant get for you?”

The young man sat forward and leveled Spencer with an icy glare. “Yeah, he can get me you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not available this evening,” Spencer said as nicely as he could between clenched teeth.

“I can see that.” The prosecutor craned his head to look in Cole’s direction, who was definitely watching the exchange. “So, I’ve been demoted to Mr. Klein, huh? What happened to Will?”

“William. I apologize. I was just checking on your dinner order. It should be arriving shortly,” Renzo said from behind Spencer. “Let me have Jerry get you a fresh scotch.”

Renzo was another seasoned staff member, who’d worked at Sergio’s almost as long as Spencer, and Jerry had been his assistant the last seven months. They made a great team, and they both were phenomenal at making men feel admired, especially the ones that didn’t deserve it. When Spencer became manager and made the decision to take fewer customers, the big-shot prosecutor had been the first one he’d passed to Renzo. The man was far too handsy no matter how many times he’d been warned by Sergio and security to be respectful.

Ignoring his server, Mr. Klein continued to watch him. “I guess I can’t compete with a Burbank. My pockets just aren’t deep enough for

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