Mitchell Rollins’ world: classy and expensive. Like the Ivy League degree on the wall of his office and the brand new condo downtown, the car spoke of wealth and success—his wealth and success.
“I don’t know, Mitch. Don’t you think it’s a bit... much?”
Mitch frowned. Why did miserly Arnulfo have to rain on his parade? “Obviously not, or I wouldn’t have bought it.”
“It looks really expensive.”
“It should, because it is.”
Along with the costly toys, the man inspecting the liquid silver status symbol with a critical eye completed Mitch’s life. Arnulfo Oliva, with his caramel skin, dark eyes, and inky hair falling in waves when not tied back, would be the perfect accessory, if only he’d stop dancing out of reach long enough to be properly claimed.
After completing a slow circuit around the car, Arnulfo parked his hands on his slender hips. “It’s not you.”
“What? Of course it’s me! I worked hard so I could afford things like this.” Why couldn’t the guy be impressed, like everyone else who’d viewed his latest prize? Why go through years of the finest schools to drive a Mazda?
White teeth flashed against Arnulfo’s dark skin. “There are more important things in life than possessions, my friend.”
“Like what?” Seriously. What could possibly be more important?
“Family, friends, helping your fellow man.” His lover’s brilliant smile struck Mitch’s libido like a two-twenty current, like it had the first time he’d strolled down the hallway to find the handsome intern making rounds.
That smile led them from colleagues to friends to lovers, to… whatever they were now.
One of the few people whose opinion mattered didn’t like his latest acquisition. Disappointment left bitterness in his mouth. “Yeah? See where it got you.” The top of the line convertible was supposed to astonish the handsome immigrant from El Salvador, not inspire head shakes and pitying looks. “Half your pay goes to your family back home, while you drive the cheapest rust bucket you could find and share a tiny house with three other men.”
Arnulfo had more than earned the right to a few of the finer things in life. Why live like a struggling college student?
“There’s plenty of room for all of us, and I’m helping Juan Carlos and Francisco with their studies. Besides, my car is practical. It’s also no hardship to take care of those I love.”
Those I love. With the exception of family and the diminutive bundle of energy who showed absolutely no interest at all in the car, Mitch had none. He’d never been the hearts and flowers, picking out china patterns together type of guy.
He’d settled for more… practical relationships. Like waking up the next morning to a handsome man lying next to him and no recollection of a name.
Until Arnulfo.
Maybe he could still save the situation. “Take a ride with me? I want to talk to you about something.” He’d been planning the talk for months. Now was the time to pull out all the stops. Oh, Arnulfo played hard to get so well, at times even Mitch believed the act— almost. But after all, he was Mitch Rollins, one of Interim General’s brightest stars.
When he spoke, people listened. If he said, “Jump!” they’d ask, “How high?” and fall over each other to jump the highest. How could anyone resist him?
Again Arnulfo released a dazzling smile, stoking the fire in Mitch’s groin. “You’re sexy as hell, you know that, right?”
“Okay.” Arnulfo glanced away. He’d never been good at taking compliments. “I want to talk to you too.”
With any luck they’d do much more than talk.
While Arnulfo’s short, trim figure slid into the tiny passenger seat with ease, Mitch, taller, with a body bulked up by daily gym visits, wasn’t nearly as comfortable in a car built for looks and speed. Still, the Jaguar made the statement, “I am rich and powerful.” Who wouldn’t sacrifice a bit of comfort for status?
The push of a button retracted the top. Soon the red and gold leaves painting the landscape with color would fall and a nip would fill the air. Today remained warm enough to enjoy a convertible.
“Sweet!” Arnulfo’s smile returned.
Mitch revved the engine to draw attention from a group of nurses crossing the parking garage to their modest vehicles.
“Oh! What a ride!” one cried. The others merely followed the car with admiring eyes until Mitch rounded the corner out of sight.
Tall buildings lined the street: the theater, the opera, clubs, restaurants, many decorated with pumpkins and ghosts, in anticipation of Halloween. For a handsome young doctor from a good