A Not-So-Indecent Proposal Read online

  “Dude!” Vinnie bounced up and down, jostling Bram off balance.

  “I know!”

  “You know what this means, right?”

  “I am officially among the ranks of the employed.” Bram couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a day this incredible, this validating. Who knew all those sleepless nights studying and working his ass off in school would pay off so soon after graduation? “I may be swimming in debt for the rest of my natural life, but I’m no longer the company bitch.”

  “We have to celebrate.” Vinnie jumped up and ran into the kitchen. She quickly returned with a cheap bottle of wine and two glasses she proceeded to fill to their brims. “Chin, chin, my gainfully employed friend.”

  “I will drink to that!” He clinked his glass to Vinnie’s, then took a hearty swig. “And dinner is on me.” His credit card wasn’t completely maxed out.

  “Sweet.” Vinnie topped up their glasses, then clinked them once more. “Let’s get Thai.”

  Chapter Four

  Spencer barely slept at all that night. He’d tossed and turned as his mind raced, frantically trying to work out a problem he knew only had one solution. Money. Great. Now all he had to do was find some.

  He was smart. He could figure this out. He’d worked from his early undergrad days to build this company and wasn’t about to miss out on an opportunity this lucrative.

  When he and his freshman roommate, Tim, had come up with the first glimmer of an idea it hadn’t seemed like something all that viable. But when Spencer’s father caught wind of the concept and offered to invest seed money, things changed dramatically. For starters, Tim decided being a full-time student was where he needed to focus his attention, so Spencer paid him a good-faith stipend and began the process of building what would eventually become AppMedica. With his father teaching him about investors (and, no doubt, putting in a good word with more than a few of them), Spencer was able to avoid taking loans and burying himself in debt. Kemp Senior’s only condition had been that Spencer finish his degree. Which he did, all the while slowly beginning to assemble his team. Max had been the first to join, his programming prowess the perfect complement to Spencer’s business acumen and schmoozing ability. The early days had been rough but worth it. He very nearly burned himself out, but in the end, he had a degree and a company operating in the black. The only casualty had been his social life. But he didn’t regret any of it.

  “Mr. Kemp! Could you please hold the door?”

  The voice snapped Spencer out of his fog, and he looked up to see the handsome intern—Bran? Bram, that was it—running for the elevator.

  He stuck his foot out to block the doors from closing.

  “That was close. Thanks.” Bram smiled through the leaves of a sickly-looking plant he held against his chest. A travel mug in the other hand filled the elevator with the sweet, rich scent of coffee.

  “No problem.” Spencer nodded at the plant. “You know you’re supposed to water these, right?” he teased.

  “Oh!” Bram laughed and looked down at the sad bit of foliage. “Yeah, my roommate has the exact opposite of a green thumb. So it was either bring it to work and take care of it, or toss it into next week’s compost bin.”

  “What happens when you move downstairs to programming? Don’t these things usually need natural light?”

  “Shit.” Bram’s face fell as though he hadn’t considered that prior to his rescue mission. “I guess I’ll have to ask someone to let me leave it upstairs where it can get some sunshine. Wait—how do you know about programming?”

  Spencer suppressed a smile and raised a single eyebrow.

  “Right.” Bram huffed out a laugh. “CEO. Sorry. Of course.” He looked like he was about to say something further when the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

  As he moved aside to let several people off at their floor, Spencer brushed up against Bram and heard an audible gasp. At first he thought he’d stepped on Bram’s instep. “Shit! I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s—” Bram blushed and moved away. “I’m fine. You’re good. I mean…” He lifted the foot closest to Spencer. “See? Not even scuffed.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Spencer locked eyes with Bram.

  “So, Infernal Voyage.” Bram cleared his throat. “Amazing numbers so far, right?”

  The abrupt change in subject had Spencer curious. “Yeah. Incredible,” he answered without altering his gaze. But before he could think too much about Bram’s apparent nervousness, the elevator stopped at their floor, the doors slid open, and Bram scurried off with a quick, “Have a great day.”

  “Something I said?” Spencer murmured, doing a quick and stealthy pit-sniff test.

  Before he had time to overthink it, his cellphone vibrated in his pocket.

  “Rich! Hi—just getting in to the office. Hold on one sec?” he answered. “Hey, sorry about that,” he said, closing his office door behind him. He tossed his messenger bag and coat on the small sofa that sat under the office’s sole window. “Didn’t want to be that guy and interrupt the whole office with my conversation. What’s new?”

  Spencer and Rich had been friends for years. But Rich ran a successful law firm and had about as much free time as Spencer. Needless to say, they rarely had a chance to see each other.

  “Just calling to say congrats on the game,” Rich answered. “I thought your specialty was medical administration.”

  “You know about that?” One of Rich’s boys no doubt mentioned the game, prompting Rich or his wife to check it out to make sure it was kid-appropriate.

  “Yeah, Mason downloaded it and was glued to it for a full two days before I realized where it came from. Sounds like things are going amazing, Spence.”

  “They are.” Spencer knew Rich would pick up on his worried tone. “Things are definitely good,” he reiterated. Whether it was to convince Rich or himself, he wasn’t quite sure.

  “But…?” Rich prompted.

  “But I have an IPO on the horizon and a chance to parlay this success into some really impressive numbers. Only, I need to come up with the cash to do it.”

  “That shouldn’t be too tough for an industrious guy like you.”

  “I could sell off some of my Google shares, I suppose. That’s always quick money.” He really didn’t want to dip into his personal investments, but for the good of the company it might be a quick and easy means to an end.

  “Fuck that!” Rich sounded adamant. “Don’t sell off good stocks. You bought way back when at what—a hundred bucks a pop? Now they’re worth over a grand each?”

  “Yeah.” Spencer hated the idea. “But really, what choice do I have? I need dedicated server space, more team members—I have to.”

  “Well, there’s always…” Rich drifted off, letting Spencer fill in the blanks.

  “Nope. Please don’t suggest what I think you’re suggesting.”

  “I mean, the money is just sitting there collecting interest.”

  “For good reason.”

  “Your grandmother left it to you, Spence. Why not use it?”

  “You know why. And you and I both know Iris never had any intention of leaving that to me. It was something her husband requested in his will. Her hateful condition speaks volumes.”

  “Maybe not, but technically you can still claim it. It was a gift left to you and you alone. Despite her evil intent. Fuck me, what must it be worth by now?”

  “A lot,” Spencer answered with a sigh. “But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not married. Jesus, Rich, I haven’t even gone on a date in nearly a year.”

  “True. And we’ll circle back to that year part later. But when that miserable woman drew up her will it was when there was no legal way for you to claim the money. Marriage equality has been the law of the land since two thousand five, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “Oh, I haven’t forgotten. Hell, I got drunk enough on my birthday that year I considered doing it for a hot minute, just as a final fuck you to her.” Spencer
laughed at the memory of his twenty-second birthday and how extremely grateful he was to have had friends willing to haul his nearly unconscious ass home and put him to bed safe and sound.

  “So why don’t you?” Rich asked. “Say a final fuck you to her bigoted ass and dump the cash into your company.”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t even know who I could ask,” Spencer admitted.

  “Doesn’t have to be a love match. Just a business arrangement.”

  Rich’s comment sparked the seed of an idea, but Spencer had serious reservations. “I mean, there’d have to be a contract drawn up.”

  “If only you knew a brilliant lawyer who owed you a favor,” Rich teased.

  “How long would we need to stay married?”

  “Sounds like you’re actually considering this. Are you?”

  Was he?

  Spencer sighed. “I don’t know, Rich—”

  “Do it!” Rich interrupted. “You said yourself, it’s not like you’re dating anyway, so having a husband—even if it was only on paper—wouldn’t exactly hinder your love life. So let’s draw up a contract. Fuck, Spence, I have a few simple prenup contracts that can be easily customized into a workable contract. I’ll draft something and send it over by tomorrow for you to look at.”

  “I’m not saying yes, but if I do this…” He huffed out a breath in frustration. “I mean, do we even have quickie divorces here?”

  “Not like the States, no. But a straightforward uncontested joint divorce can be as quick as two to four months. There’s a bit of a hitch, though.”

  “Isn’t there always.”

  “You have to prove to the court you’ve been living apart for at least a year.”

  Spencer hadn’t even considered living arrangements. “What if we never live together at all? Say he just keeps his place and we never officially share a place? Surely there’s a loophole there, right?”

  “Hmmm.” Rich paused a moment. “The law is you have to have lived apart for a year. But there’s nothing stating how long the actual marriage has to have been. So, maybe? It could get ugly trying to prove since the marriage itself was to get around another legal loophole. The best bet would be to just pick a date and count forward a year. It won’t matter one way or the other if you’re not living together anyway, right?”

  “I guess.”

  “Listen, I have to fly. Client meeting in ten. But think about it, okay? I’ll e-mail you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll think about it. Talk soon.” He tossed the phone down and buried his face in his hands.

  Could he do this? People had certainly married for less. “Dammit.” Spencer did not love what he was about to do.

  Chapter Five

  Bram took a deep breath. He could do this. It was just drinks in the dungeon with the Hoard Warriors. No big deal. Except that it was.

  When Max had e-mailed him the official news he was joining the team, Bram nearly fell out of his chair. He knew it was coming, but to see the offer in black and white was something else. Starting Monday, the e-mail had said. Celebratory drinks down here after work today.

  “Just keep your shit together and don’t geek out,” he whispered to himself as he approached the door, grateful nobody else was around. Shaking it off, he pasted on a smile and let himself in.

  “Bram, hey—good to see you.” Max grabbed a beer and handed it to him. “Welcome to the team.”

  “Thanks, I’m—” He twisted off the cap. “This is amazing. I’m really looking forward to working with everyone down here.”

  A few of the other developers were mingling around a table full of drinks, and someone turned up a Spotify playlist. A couple of people were still at their cubicles, which were clustered together in groups of four, close together without being crowded. The office had a comfortable vibe, much more so than upstairs with its bright overhead fluorescents and plain beige walls. Down here the brick had been left exposed, and two-thirds of the overhead lighting had been turned off completely. A much more conducive environment for people who spent such long hours staring at computer screens.

  “The rest of your team should be here shortly. And Spence will be along any minute, too.”

  He was looking forward to meeting his teammates. Seeing Spencer Kemp again wouldn’t be a hardship, either. The man was fine with a capital F.

  “And here they are now.” Max gestured toward the door, where a tall dark-haired woman and two shorter men stood. “Come on in.” Max beckoned them forward. “Grab yourselves a drink and come say hello to your teammate, Bram.”

  They quickly helped themselves, then returned to gather around Bram and Max.

  “Everyone, this is Bram.” Max waved his beer in Bram’s direction. “Bram, this is Oliver, Evan, and Chloe. They were all working together on another project of Spence’s, and I poached them for this gig.”

  “How long have you all worked here?” Bram asked. Being the new guy frazzled his nerves, but it was nice knowing that a brand-new project meant they were all starting at square one together.

  “Almost ten months,” Chloe answered. “We all started at the same time. What about you?”

  “I’ve been interning up in admin for nearly three weeks. So this’ll be a change of pace for me. I can’t wait to get started,” he admitted. Most of his classmates were still interning for free or working at jobs in entirely different fields. He’d lucked into the perfect job and planned on making the most of this opportunity.

  “There’s my new team of hotshots!” Spencer Kemp had slipped into the room unnoticed as the group was getting acquainted. He greeted the four of them, then grabbed a beer and made the rounds to say hello to the rest of the department.

  Bram watched as Spencer interacted with his staff. He’d never seen someone so casual, yet professional at the same time. And everyone seemed to genuinely like the man. Although—tall, dark, handsome, successful, and charming. What wasn’t to like?

  He made his way back to the drinks table and snagged himself another beer. He wasn’t a big drinker, but that first one had gone down so smoothly. Plus it was early, so he didn’t see any harm. The rest of his team apparently agreed as they all made their way across the room to do similarly.

  “Hey, Bram.” A girl with hot pink hair and a wicked tattoo of a circuit board on her neck waved as she grabbed a drink. “Welcome to the team.”

  “Thanks.” He smiled at his initial nervousness. If there were any inflated egos in this department, they’d yet to appear. Everyone was being more than welcoming. Happy chatter filled the room, and at one point, someone swapped Bram’s empty bottle for another full one.

  As he mingled, introducing himself to one co-worker after the next, Bram was always aware of Spencer’s presence no matter where in the room he was. He tried his best to not be obvious, but the man held his attention. A few times he made eye contact and could have sworn the sizzle he felt wasn’t entirely one-sided. Which meant it was probably time to call it a night. The beer had left him feeling just toasty enough to be brave. But not enough to be stupid.

  “All right, everyone!” Max bellowed loudly enough to grab everyone’s attention. “Elliot just took the last beer, so you know what that means. Drinks in the pub!”

  The din of happy chatter got louder as people grabbed their coats and packed up their belongings for the weekend.

  “You coming?” Max asked. Bram wanted to, but his bank balance was currently calling the shots on his social life.

  “I’d really love to,” he answered. “But I’m afraid I can’t tonight. Maybe next time?”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” Max answered as he patted Bram on the shoulder.

  Rather than wait around for the throng to make their exit, Bram grabbed his coat and bag and beelined for the elevators.

  “Sneaking away before the exodus?” Spencer asked. Damn, the man was stealthy. Bram hadn’t even heard him approach.

  “Oh, yeah. I’m just…” Bram tugged at his collar. “I need to get home.”<
br />
  “Same,” Spencer said with a conspiratorial smile. “And they can be a lot. Not that I don’t love each and every one of them,” he added. “You’ll get used to them in no time.”

  “Everyone’s been great so far,” Bram agreed as they entered the elevator and hit their respective buttons.

  “This is me,” Spencer said when they stopped at the parking level. “Can I give you a lift?”

  He’d been planning to walk, but it was cold as hell out, and he wasn’t foolish enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Thanks, that’d be amazing.”

  ****

  The extent of Bram’s car knowledge was you put gas in them and they go. Except when the car in question was a Tesla. Because of course that’s what Spencer drove. And this one had all the bells and whistles. There was so much distracting shiny, he nearly missed Spencer asking for his address.

  “Oh. I’m up on Argyle. Seven-twenty-six, right next to the pizza place.” He gave his head a shake. “Sorry,” he said with a grin. “I don’t know shit about cars, but this is gorgeous.”

  “My pride and joy.” Spencer beamed as they pulled out onto the street. “It’s the only thing I’ve really spent money on for myself since AppMedica took off, so I’ve become one of those guys who treats their car more like a beloved pet than a vehicle.”

  “Well, it is pretty. Or is it she?” His dad had always referred to cars as she. But what his dad said and did wasn’t always a fair barometer.

  “I don’t think pronouns matter so much for cars.” Spencer smiled as he changed lanes.

  “True,” Bram agreed.

  Coming to a halt at the red light, Spencer turned to look at Bram. “Is Uptown Pizza still as greasy and delicious as it always was?” he asked.

  “You know that spot?” Bram couldn’t picture perfectly coiffed, fit Spencer Kemp setting foot in such a grungy place.