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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

HANK

Elliot wakes me with coffee and yogurt in bed, and we cuddle together in the peaceful morning while I wake up.

I’m proud of him. It’s up to his parents now to decide how to move forward, and whatever happens, I know this isn’t the end of the work for Elliot. But he’s taken an important step, and it’s a step forward for our relationship, too.

I’m falling in love with this man. He’s sweet and surprising, and when I’m with him, life feels full of possibility. Even a quiet evening at home becomes richer, filled with affection and care.

Elliot and I are good for each other. My reasoning is catching up with what my heart knows. I want this relationship, and I want him.

“Are you working here today?” I ask, breaking the silence.

“I need to get home to check out some kaiju reference materials. The client likes them tied up to skyscrapers with rope bondage. Every illustration is a technical challenge.”

We make plans to call each other in the evening, and I drag myself out of bed and into the shower. I’m feeling productive today, and I manage to get out of the door early enough to brave a walk to work.

Some passing eyes linger, people clearly recognizing me, but I do my best to ignore it, gaze in the distance and sunshine on my face.

The attention will slowly fade. The situation at work, however, is going to remain complicated. Whether Elliot has a good relationship, a bad one, or no relationship at all with his parents, any scenario will complicate my life at the firm.

With threats to my job security lingering, I’ve started to consider my options. I’ve built myself a fantastic career here and invested in the firm. Any moves will result in a significant pay cut, not to mention the near impossibility of finding employment without the support of my former bosses.

And sleeping with my boss’s younger son will hardly earn me a glowing recommendation. If anything, Darryl Peterson will warn the rest of the accounting world that I’m a creep, too.

No matter how many times I review the conundrum, I still can’t find a graceful way through it.

As I sit at my desk and review my email, I see the weekly roundup from the regional accounting professionals association.

There’s a feature article on the last page that makes me positively wistful.

It’s written by the head of data management and accounting for the regional office of the National Parks Service, a woman who also run the professional association.

As she approaches her retirement next year, she reminisces on a long and satisfying career, including the accounting of a native plant nursery and data management for ongoing research and studies at the Parks Service.

By staying at my organization for decades, I’ve managed to build an efficient, precise system that benefits the Parks Service and the public good.

It’s the kind of goal I always hoped to accomplish myself, but the opportunity may be slipping away.

It’s time for the first meeting, so I grab my folder and head down the corridor.

Another busy morning has me going between video calls and conference rooms. Tired, I hustle back to my office when it’s lunch time, and find Angie waiting for me.

Quickly, I shut the door. “Is everything okay?”

She frowns. “You didn’t see?” She hands me her phone. “Elliot’s in the news again.”

My stomach sinks. Angie has her Reddit open, and it’s flooded with stories about Elliot’s illustrations, his name now linked publicly with his work. Apparently, a reporter reached out to him pretending to be a new client with a big gig, and managed to get enough information to blow Elliot’s cover.

“Damn it,” I curse under my breath. He didn’t want this. And it’s the worst time.

“Have you talked to him?”

“This is my first minute out of a meeting.” I go to my phone, which I left on my desk earlier today, and see some messages.

Elliot: hank, i have bad news

Elliot: sorry, i shouldn’t have bothered you at work. it can wait

Elliot: shit. maybe it can’t wait. my dad wants me to come in to the office

I blink at the phone. “Mr. Peterson is asking Elliot to come in to the office.”

“What do you want to do?” Angie asks. “We can escape for lunch, so you can avoid being around the two of them together. Maybe the sushi place? It’s always quiet.”

Before I can process, my desk phone rings. I answer it, and Darryl Peterson’s assistant calls me to his office.

“Maybe go on to the sushi place without me,” I tell Angie. “I’ll join you if I can.”

Quickly, I send a text to Elliot, telling him I’m sorry this happened and that I’m here.

I walk to my boss’s office, my heart pounding. There’s no reason he would be calling me in about Elliot’s problems. At least, I certainly hope he isn’t.

When I step in, he offers me a chair, a gesture that makes me even more uneasy.

“What can I do for you today, sir?” I ask.

“I reviewed the funding issue that you flagged regarding the casino boat.”

Oh, that. “Yes, I noticed the discrepancy between budget and service after our incident. When I looked closer, the numbers don’t add up for that event, and for several other company functions. But I’m sure the COO has an explanation. He manages that budget.”

He leans back and unfolds his hands. “That’s why I called you in.

We’ve been tracking some apparent corruption for the past couple months, but hitting brick walls.

Your keen eye drew us to the COO’s office, and the pieces began to fall into place.

Beyond embezzlement, he’s been busy circumventing arms embargoes and tax codes for a few select clients.

I’ve alerted the FBI, our COO will resign at the end of the day, and we’re going to cease doing business with the Octal First Corporation. ”

The information stuns me. This must be the crisis that’s been broiling at the executive level.

“It’s unfortunate,” he continues, “but I have chosen to move forward with clarity of purpose rather than to try to cover this up. It will hurt, but the way to affirm our reputation is to do what is necessary.”

“I am heartened to hear you say that,” I tell him, thinking quickly.

He nods seriously. “Begin preparations immediately within your department. Guide us through this crisis as I know you are capable, and in the future, you may continue to rise in the firm. Your moment of insubordination disappointed me, but it’s one blemish.

Succeed, and I see a path for you to the highest executive level. ”

Some relief washes over me that I might not have to lose this job after all, although I’m skeptical this will be enough to compensate for the fact that I’m secretly dating Elliot.

“I appreciate your confidence.”

The phone beside him buzzes, and when he hits it, his assistant announces that Elliot is here.

“Send him in,” he says as he stands. “I suppose you two aren’t strangers.”

I stand, too. “No,” I manage, my head spinning, “I suppose not.”

Elliot enters, surprised to see me. He’s in a nondescript outfit, a gray shirt and loose tan slacks, which I know he has chosen because he’s trying to avoid media attention and appease his father.

Every instinct in me demands I hug Elliot and comfort him after his bad news today, but I maintain my professional neutrality.

I look to Darryl Peterson. He must have brought Elliot in here because of the news story, but he doesn’t appear angry. He’s practically stoic.

Although with the firm’s own crisis, there’s plenty to occupy his thoughts.

Elliot hesitates, glancing between us. “What’s this about?”

“Mr. Hansley and I were discussing some changes to come at the firm. You’re lucky to have had a reliable man like him during your ordeal.”

Elliot doesn’t look at me. “Okay. But can we please have privacy to discuss this?”

He narrows his eyes. “To discuss what, Elliot?”

“Why did you ask me here?” Elliot asks.

I clear my throat, wishing I could flee. “I should go,” I manage, but I’m ignored.

“Because there’s a very large story breaking in the news today, Elliot,” Mr. Peterson says, referencing the scandal we were just talking about, but Elliot doesn’t take it that way.

“Yes, Dad. Everyone knows that I draw kinky gay illustrations of goblins and superheroes. It’s out, and there’s nothing I can do about it now. And like I told you last night, you can either accept me or not. Your choice. But I will not hear your opinions about it.”

Darryl Peterson blinks and turns to me. “I suppose it’s better for you to know.” He rubs his temples and explains to me, assuming I’m in the dark. “Elliot makes pornographic art. And now, as I’m learning, his career will bring another round of humiliation for us all.”

“It’s fine. This has nothing to do with me,” I say quickly. “Or the firm.” I risk glancing at Elliot. “Although I’m sorry you have to deal with this,” I tell him in my most professional tone, wishing I could say more.

“I don’t have time for you today, Elliot,” my boss says sternly. “None of this.”

“Then why did you drag me in here?” Elliot asks, exasperated.

“For the same reason I had Mr. Hansley in,” he exclaims, raising his voice.

“To tell you that the firm is going into a state of crisis. I have decided to alert the FBI and the board to a corruption scandal at the executive level.” He straightens his shirt and steps forward.

I see something wrestle across his features before he regains his composure.

“Integrity is a virtue,” he says simply.

“After our conversation last night, I thought you might be capable of keeping yourself out of the news. I intended to stress the heightened importance of that now.”

“Oh,” Elliot says.

My boss looks to me again. “Forgive this display,” he says.

“It’s fine,” I say, my brain racing to catch up with all the developments. “It’s a stressful day for everyone.”

He glances between me and Elliot, comprehension flickering across his expression.

My stomach sinks.

“Have you two maintained a relationship?” he asks evenly.

Shit. Suddenly on the spot after being told how reliable I am, I have even more trouble lying than I would already. “We’ve been in touch, of course,” I answer diplomatically.

“And?” he asks sharply.

I freeze as I try to formulate my answer.

“Dad, do you really need to give us the third degree right now?”

Unfortunately, a man of details, he’s already put it together. “The way you defended him, Hansley,” he says. “I see it now.” He glances between us. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. You’re… together.”

I’m sick that he saw through us so easily, but it’s clear there’s no use in arguing, and denial is just going to make us look worse. “Yes. We are, Mr. Peterson. But this isn’t anything we planned on sharing with you.”

He looks at Elliot. “If you’re trying to start on a new path with me and your mother, Elliot, it hardly helps to drag an employee down to your level.” He turns to me. “I’m far more disappointed by you.”

It’s too much to hear him disparage Elliot, and I push back.

“Elliot hasn’t dragged me down. He’s lifted me up. Your son is an amazing man, and it’s a shame if you can’t see that for yourself.” I clear my throat. “This has had and will continue to have no impact on my work performance,” I say firmly.

He tightens his brow. “Unacceptable.” His phone rings, and he walks back behind his desk. “I have no time for this nonsense today.” He tenses his hands into fists. “You’re lucky you’re needed at the moment, Hansley,” he adds, like a threat. “Now get out of my office.”

Elliot and I head out into the firm. In the corridor that opens to the front office and the sea of cubicles, we stand across from each other, accounting noises clacking and humming in the air.

“I think I have whiplash,” I say as my heart pounds. We can only linger for a moment without catching attention, so I speak quickly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

I nod quickly. “I’m fine. Sorry your work has been exposed.”

In his eyes, I can feel Elliot reach for me, and I wish badly that I could touch him, but we each take a half-step back instead.

“Don’t listen to him,” I tell Elliot. “You’re a brilliant artist. Trust yourself.”

“Thank you,” he says softly, and after a lingering moment of eye contact, we each walk away.