Page 31 of Total Creative Control
Aaron suspected that deep down Charlie knew he could never hope to measure up to Lewis, who oozed raw talent and driving energy without even trying.
It turned out there really were some things money couldn’t buy—and for all his bonhomie, Charlie resented that.
“Is anyone else coming this weekend?” Toni asked.
“Just Mils and Geoff,” Charlie replied, turning back to Toni. Mils—or Milly as everyone else called her—was some kind of executive at Telopix, though she didn’t seem to have any recognisable role or particular responsibilities. She and Charlie were both from wealthy families—in Milly’s case, a titled one—and had attended the same exclusive private boarding school when they were kids. Toni had told him that Milly and Charlie had been romantically involved for a few years. That was supposed to be over now, but they still lived in each other’s pockets, with Milly’s entertainment lawyer husband, Geoff—or ‘poor Geoff’ as he was invariably referred to by Toni—appearing mostly baffled by their antics.
Aaron was quite intrigued to finally meet the notorious Milly, and poor Geoff, after everything he’d heard about them.
“That’s nice,” Toni said brightly, and Aaron had to bite back a smile. Toni despised Milly, though she seemed to not mind Geoff so much. Or at least, she felt sorry for him.
“Yeah,” Charlie said. “It’ll be enough for the workshop, anyway. We need at least three couples because we’ll be working in pairs.”
“Oh Jesus,” Lewis groaned. “Not a workshop, Charlie, please. For the love of God, it’s the weekend.”
Charlie hooked his arm over Lewis’s shoulders and drew him towards the entrance. “Don’t be like that,” he cajoled. “I’ve done this one before, and it’s amazing at centring you and cleansing you of your negative energy. We’ll do it tomorrow, before we speak aboutLeecheson Sunday, and I’m telling you, it’s going to be a gamechanger. You are going to chill the fuck out, my friend, and open your mind up to new possibilities.”
“Only if you put fucking Rohypnol in my tea,” Lewis said.
Charlie’s brow furrowed in irritation for a moment before he rallied. “Come on,” he said, slinging his other arm around Toni. “I’ll show you to your rooms.” And with that, he led Lewis and Toni through the arched entranceway.
Aaron, left behind, eyed the numerous bags and garment carriers that the driver had unloaded from the car and that everyone else seemed to have forgotten about. Sighing, he hefted his own rucksack on, slung Lewis’s bag over his shoulder, got Toni’s wheeled case lined up, carefully laid the garment bags over one outstretched arm, and hurried after the others as best he could.
The interior of the house was very beautiful and austere. The big central open hall was floored and panelled with dark honey wood and high above perched a minstrel’s gallery. There was scarcely any furniture, just a few wooden benches and chairs scattered around the perimeter of the hall. In the middle of the bare floor, a lone skateboard lay on its side, abandoned.
Aaron spied the others disappearing through an open archway to the left and almost tripped over his own feet hurrying after them.
By the time he caught up, they were already on their way up a huge flight of stairs.
Annoyed, he cleared his throat.
Lewis immediately looked over his shoulder and had the grace to look abashed. “Oh, sorry. Let me help you.”
Ignoring Charlie’s irritated expression, he descended the stairs to where Aaron stood.
“You should have just left that stuff outside,” Charlie said, his tone suggesting Aaron was moronic. “One of the staff would have brought it in.”
“Most of us don’t assume someone else will come running to pick up after us,” Lewis said, mildly, before Aaron could respond. Stepping close, Lewis slid his fingers under the strap of his bag and carefully lifted it over Aaron’s head.
Aaron felt suddenly… odd. Lewis was too close, too kind, too overwhelminglythere.
That was the thing about being in lust with your boss. You had to be on guard all the time in case you betrayed yourself. You got used to keeping a certain careful distance. You developed strategies to make sure you never breached the unspoken zone of personal space. Aaron was an expert at handing things to Lewis so that they didn’t touch. At leaving cups of hot chocolate on the corner of his desk so their fingers were in no danger of accidentally brushing. At always, always keeping a good two feet of space between them.
Which must be why, the very instant Lewis got close, Aaron felt like he was about to hyperventilate. The memory of Lewis opening the door of his flat wearing nothing but his snug Calvin Kleins was suddenly all Aaron could think about. Lewis, sleep-rumpled and bare chested, standing in his front doorway, gazing at Aaron expectantly…
Hell. This weekend was already screwing with the boundaries he’d so carefully put in place around Lewis. And they’d only just arrived.
“Aaron?” Lewis frowned down at him from the step above, brow creased. “Okay?”
“Er, yes… Sorry, just, um—Could you take this, too?” He handed off one of the garment bags, laughing awkwardly. “Guess I need to hit the gym or something.”
“God no,” Charlie called from where he was waiting for them at a turn in the stairs above. “Screw the gym. Get a personal trainer. Theo has done wonders for my abs.” He slapped his stomach proudly. “Yesterday, I held the plank for a full five minutes. Even took a call from LA on the Bluetooth while I did it. I’ll show you later.”
“Please don’t,” Lewis muttered, turning to trudge up the stairs, and Aaron smothered a smile.
As he followed Lewis, Aaron concentrated on slowing his heartbeat and willing the heat to leave his cheeks. Christ, he hoped Lewis hadn’t noticed his reaction. After Jason’s comments last night, he was afraid his secret attraction might not be as secret as he’d believed. Mortifying didn’t begin to cover how he’d feel if Lewis found out when he’d been so clear from the start that their ‘mutual attraction’ couldn’t go anywhere.
At the top of the stairs, Charlie led them through a picture gallery. Again, it was a huge space with golden wood flooring and panelling halfway up the walls. What looked like a badminton net was set up at the far end. But it was the walls that fascinated Aaron. They were covered with paintings, the portraits of dusty old aristocrats interspersed with… Well, Aaron supposed they were art. It was difficult to be sure, and he was no expert. His mum would sniff and say a child could have daubed the bright splashes of clashing paint on the canvases, and secretly, Aaron agreed. If he was honest, they were pretty ugly. He looked around, but couldn’t see any handy labels identifying the artist.