Brian's mouth hung open in a combination of disgust, anger, and yes, jealousy, although he would be the last person to admit that out loud to anyone. He couldn't quite say he was surprised by the man's gall, though; Chamberlain always had had a reputation for speaking his mind and making his wishes known if it was something he desired. Normally, though, it had to do with the man's business, not wanting to fuck one of Brian's employees. And this wasn't just one of his employees, either – this was Justin, his partner.

He didn't get to where he was in life by being blind or stupid; he could tell right away from the moment Justin had walked into his office that the fucker wanted him – badly. He had been expecting the need to get out a box of tissues any second to help the guy wipe up the drool that was threatening to spill from the corner of his mouth as he lusted for his partner. Well, dream on, Chamberlain, he found himself thinking…it's not going to happen in this lifetime.

He glared at the arrogant man as if he were insulted. "What do I look like to you, Chamberlain? A fucking matchmaking service for queers? And how do you even know Taylor is gay?"

Chamberlain held onto the back of his chair and snorted incredulously. "Come on, Brian, you're not really going to stand there and tell me you let that hot piece of ass strut his stuff around your office and you haven't fucked him already to within an inch of his life? You already went out of your way to remind me about your 'one-fuck' policy, so if you've already sampled him, what are you getting all hot and bothered for, anyway? Share the wealth with the rest of us."

He smiled conspiratorially as his voice leveled off to a smooth baritone. "So tell me – is he as good a fuck as he looks? Because he's got a great-looking ass."

Brian couldn't believe the audacity of the man, hitting on his partner, for fuck's sake. Could Justin not go anywhere without being subjected to unwanted attention? Hadn't they just been down that road already? He wanted so badly to tell the man to just go fuck himself, but if he did, Chamberlain would not only take his lucrative business elsewhere, but he would also know there was more to him and Justin than just an employer-employee relationship. He tried hard to keep that sort of information under wraps. Sure, he fucked clients when they were hot enough and willing enough if it helped him get what he needed, but to confess to this man that he was partners with one of his own employees? He wasn't quite ready to reveal that just yet. But he also had no intention of sharing this particular prize with any man.

"Look, Max, you know I'm the best at whatever I do," he responded enigmatically, purposely being vague about what exactly he was referring to. "But I don't play Cupid for clients. Now if you want to talk business, I'm listening. Otherwise, you'll have to excuse me."

Max shook his head in amazement. "I'm not talking a threesome here, Kinney," he said tartly. "I just want you to arrange for a little lunch meeting between me and that little blond artist; you can just tell him it's so we can tweak my ideas a little more. Surely you can convince Taylor to take a meeting with me for the sake of keeping one of your best clients happy." He stared pointedly into Brian's eyes. "I'd hate to let a little misunderstanding come between such a long-established, mutually beneficial business relationships such as ours…wouldn't you?"

Brian sighed in exasperation; the man's meaning was crystal clear. Either arrange for him and Justin to meet for lunch – no doubt somewhere 'private,' of course – or he would walk out along with the thousands of dollars in advertising business he would bring him.

He smiled as Chamberlain's pulse began to race at the notion of having that luscious piece of ass all to himself. If Taylor thought Kinney was good at what he does, wait until he had a taste of his own style. His hopes were dashed, however, at the other man's words which belied the smile on his face.

"Sure…..yeah….I'll hook you up with Justin," Brian promised him as he slowly walked around his desk and stood almost in his face; his eyes flashed as the sound of his voice increased in volume and Chamberlain's eyes became big as saucers as he stared into the large, almost-black orbs of fury. "I'll hook the two of you up as soon as Martha Stewart learns to grow a fucking dick!" He abruptly grabbed Chamberlain by the upper arms and spun him around to face the door. "Now get your fucking ass – and your business – out of my office!" He gave the man a push toward the open doorway for good measure.

Chamberlain stood there for a couple of seconds, in affronted shock at the man's violent outburst to what he thought was a perfectly reasonable request. What was the big deal over one blonde little bottom? Despite the other man's fury, he couldn't resist turning around for a couple of seconds to say, "Are you out of your fucking mind? You would lose all my business just for that one blond twink?"

Brian took a deep breath of angry air, trying desperately to contain his ire but quickly losing in his efforts. He deliberately kept his voice low as he responded in the man's face, "Yes, I would…..and he's not a 'blond twink, Chamberlain….he's my partner! Now get the hell OUT!"

Chamberlain's eyes widened at that revelation. "Partner? Are you fucking shitting me? You don't DO partners, Kinney! You do tricks! You've always done tricks! You have got to be kidding me!"

Brian shook his head; did the man have no fucking sense at all? "I'm going to give you two seconds to leave my office – and the premises – or I will have you thrown out! You got it?" he asked, his eyes boring into the other man. And he meant it – exactly two seconds – or he would personally escort him out bodily. With the way his adrenalin was kicking in, he knew he would have no trouble doing just that.

The other man held up his hands in apparent surrender. "Okay, okay." He shook his head in amazement. "I still can't believe you're giving up my business for him," he maintained as he slowly backed up from the other man's advance. "Your loss, Kinney," he added, just before he turned to finally leave Brian's office.

The brunet let out an angry huff as the man disappeared, his breathing harsh and ragged at the man's boldness and arrogance. He wasn't sharing Justin with anyone, and he didn't fucking care how much business he lost. "Damn fucking asshole," he muttered, as he restlessly brushed a hand through his hair and tousled it. He let out a deep breath through his mouth as his heart slowed to a more normal rhythm before turning back around to sit down behind his desk.

Before only a few seconds had passed, however, the need to speak to the man who was uppermost on his mind was too strong to ignore as he lifted the landline phone receiver and pressed a programmed code to wait for it to be picked up. He frowned as it rang three times before someone unexpectedly answered. "Brian?"

"Jimmy? I was looking for Taylor."

"He left for lunch a few minutes ago," he reported. "Did you need something?"

Brian sighed in frustration; he really needed to hear his partner's voice – badly. "No…..no, it can wait," he said, disconnecting the phone in disappointment without any further closing words. He reached over to flip his cell phone open and dialed Justin's cell number, growling softly to himself in disgust when it went directly to voicemail. He only had himself to blame, though – he had told his 'employees' that while they were on business time, they needed to keep their personal cell phones off. "Damn it, Justin – did you have to take me so literally?" he groused as he snapped the offending instrument closed.

He picked up his landline phone once more to dial his assistant. "Cynthia, have you seen Justin lately?"

"No, Brian," he was told. "I saw him come out of your office a while ago – that was the last time I saw him."

"Well, when he comes back from lunch, will you make sure he stops by my office first?" He was surprised Cynthia hadn't seen him when he left for lunch, but perhaps she hadn't been at her desk at the time.

"Sure," she said as Brian mumbled a hurried thanks and hung up. He sighed as he flipped his laptop open and tried to resume his concentration on the campaign he had been working on earlier when Chamberlain had interrupted him. "Fucking lot of good that did me," he muttered. "Thanks for nothing, you asshole."


Cynthia glanced up as Ted approached her. "Did you hear that shouting match just now?" he asked.

Cynthia nodded. "Everyone in the office must have heard it," she whispered up to him. "Brian was really pissed at Chamberlain for some reason, but I couldn't make out all of what they were saying. Any idea what got him so angry?"

Ted shook his head. "Only thing I know is that he was furious with him, and he's one of our best clients. I heard enough to hear Brian telling him to get the fuck out, but I never saw the man after that, did you?"

Cynthia shook his head. "He must have left, though, but I was gone for a little while. Brian just called me looking for Justin – probably wanted to vent with him, I imagine." She let out a whoosh of breath as she glanced down the hall towards her boss' office. "Whatever it was, it must have really struck a nerve for Brian to tell the guy to get the fuck out."

Ted nodded. "Yeah….I'll say." He smiled at her. "Can't wait to find out why."

Cynthia smiled. "Me, too – must have been one hell of a reason."


The reason for Brian's tirade was finishing up washing his hands in the employee's men's room, his back to the doorway, when he heard a familiar voice speaking behind him. "Well…..we meet again. Must be my lucky day after all."

Justin rolled his eyes, recognizing that slick, conceited-sounding voice instantly. For Brian's sake, he plastered a polite smile on his face before he turned around to face Chamberlain. "Mr. Chamberlain," he said coolly, feeling decidedly like a piece of sirloin as the man slowly walked toward him. "Did you and Mr. Kinney finish up your meeting?"

Chamberlain's face twisted at the other man's attempt at being so professional. "Why so formal, Justin? The name's Max, remember? And why the Mr. Kinney shit? Is that any way to talk about your partner?"

Justin tried to keep the shock out of his eyes but failed miserably as he noticed the other man smirking in satisfaction at his reaction. He kept trying, though, to seem nonplussed for Brian's sake. How did the man find out, anyway? Brian would have never divulged that personal information to someone like this man. "I don't know what you're talking about – we're certainly not business partners; I'm just an intern here temporarily."

Chamberlain smiled as he licked his dry lips in amusement. "Cut the bullshit, Justin," he said just a little more sharply as his smile faded. "Kinney told me all about the two of you. Seems he didn't like my condition for continuing to do business with him."

"Excuse me?" Justin whispered, not enjoying standing so close to the other man. He glanced sideways for a second, hoping fervently that another employee would appear in the men's room so he would have an excuse to escape this other man's presence, but unfortunately they remained alone. "What condition?"

The man slowly walked toward him as Justin backed up until he felt his back against the cold marble of the elegant vanity behind him. He knew he was stuck. "I asked him to hook the two of us up, but it seems Kinney didn't want to share you with me," he was told. "That's so unlike him, Justin….I'm impressed," he admitted curtly. "But maybe you and I can still cut a deal privately," he whispered, his meaning crystal clear: either fuck with him or he would fuck with Brian's business.

Chamberlain continued to inch his way closer and closer as he finally stood close enough to place both hands on either side of the vanity, effectively pinning Justin in. He smiled; he knew there was no way the slender man could possibly break away from him now, not until he either got what he wanted or at least a small taste of it. Either way, he wasn't leaving totally empty-handed; now that he had the man up close and personal, his cock was stirring with desire and blatant lust; the man was positively captivating, and even with his blue eyes full of a mixture of fear and loathing for him, he was even more turned on. His own eyes slowly lowered to come to rest on Justin's full, lower lip, just begging to be kissed. "Come on, Justin….give it up for the cause, and I'll reconsider my deal with your partner. This can be just between the two of us – I won't kiss and tell," he whispered triumphantly, so close to getting what – and who – he wanted, he could almost taste it now as he lowered his head to take what he had been craving all morning.


Brian tried for a few minutes to go back to what he was studying before, but it was no use. He was too wired up after his disastrous meeting with Chamberlain; he definitely needed some good, old-fashioned special attention from the only man who could give it to him. Sighing, he rose from his chair and walked out of his office. He knew Justin's normal haunts at lunchtime; he would just go in search of his partner until he found him.

"Cynthia, I'm heading out to lunch," he told his assistant. She nodded, dying to know what had happened earlier, but knowing from the hard look on Brian's face that now was not the time.


Just as he left, though, Brian turned to say, "I hope Chamberlain wasn't a prick when he left earlier; I had to throw him out on his ass."

She frowned. "I didn't see him leave, Brian."

He mimicked her look of confusion as he verified, "You didn't? He should have left at least fifteen minutes ago. Have you been at your desk all this time?"

She shook her head regretfully. "No, I had to run down to the supply room for a couple of minutes. But I think Jeannie's been here the whole time," she said, referring to their front desk receptionist. She picked up her phone and punched in the main number to reach the younger college student who, like Justin, was a temporary intern working during the summer as a floater wherever she was needed.

Brian listened impatiently to Cynthia's side of the conversation, but couldn't ascertain enough of what was being said to figure out what the receptionist was telling his assistant. But when she hung up the phone, his body instantly went on alert at the concerned look on her face. "She said she's been at her desk for at least the past hour, and remembered Chamberlain when he came in." Cynthia didn't think it was a good time to interject that with the way the man looked, it wasn't hard for him to make a distinct impression on any women he encountered. "She told me that she didn't see him leave, though."

"Fuck!" Brian growled, warning bells instantly going off. "Cynthia – tell Malcolm to meet me in the Art Department!" he roared as he rushed back down the hallway as Cynthia picked up the phone to summon the employee that doubled as both a security guard and a maintenance tech.

If you've so much as touched him, Chamberlain, you're fucking dead, Brian silently promised as, his heart beating in rage as well as alarm, he went racing toward the Art Department. He burst through the closed door as several employees gasped at the unexpected intrusion; he noticed fleetingly that papers and pencils scattered onto the floor everywhere as he frantically looked around for his partner. "Justin! Where is he?" he demanded as he turned to Jimmy.

The man's eyebrows rose in bewilderment. "I told you, Brian…he left for lunch a little while ago. He's not here?"

Brian rubbed his hand over his face in frustration. Justin wasn't here, but Chamberlain apparently was – somewhere. And it was a good bet he wasn't just taking a leisurely tour of his agency. Something didn't seem right. "Are you sure he's gone?" he pressed.

Jimmy frowned. "As far as I know…..Is something wrong, Brian?" He couldn't understand why Brian was making such a fuss over a simple college intern. The young man certainly possessed a lot of artistic talent, but why was he so special to him? "I can help you with whatever you need," he suggested, feeling just a little put out that he was being passed over for some temporary employee; after all, he was the head of the Art Department.

Brian shook his head. "Not with this," he said mysteriously. "If you see Justin, tell him to stay put – and don't let him out of your sight – you got it?" he demanded.

Jimmy stared at him, befuddled. "Okay…..whatever you say, Brian," he said just a little defensively. He knew, though, that Brian paid him well to do his job, and part of that job was doing what he asked, whether it made sense at the time or not. "I'll keep an eye out for him."

Brian nodded distractedly as he turned and rushed out of the hallway. He stopped, though, at a loss as to where to start looking. Kinnetik wasn't a big place, but where would Justin be if he wasn't in his office or in the Art Department? The copy room, perhaps? He knew he sometimes went there to complete some of his school projects or to do the preliminary work for the storyboards. It was a start – something told him the longer it took to find him, the worse things might be. He began to hurry toward the copy room in frantic search for his partner as Malcolm came rushing up to him from the other direction.

"Is there a problem, Brian?" the tall, burly bald-headed man asked. Malcolm had started as a janitor at Vanguard when Brian was employed there. He had been impressed at the time by the man's dedication to his work, however menial it might have been, and had found out he was taking night classes to become a security guard. When Brian had opened up his own agency, he had sought the man out and given him his first post-graduate job as part security guard, part maintenance tech. The man had paid him back for his generosity by being a fiercely loyal and also discreet employee, so much so that when he had periodically caught him and Justin having a little 'fun' in his office after hours, he had never said a word about it. As his heart began to hammer in his chest in anxiety, he couldn't think of a better person to have at his back.

"It's Justin…he's missing – and I think one of my former clients may just be after him," he explained as Malcolm struggled to keep up with the long-legged man's pace as he continued to rush down the hall toward the copy room. "He didn't leave the agency about 30 minutes ago when I threw him out of my office and I haven't been able to find Justin. I have reason to believe he might be with him."

Malcolm nodded; he didn't have to ask what exactly Brian meant. By the man's worried look on his face, he knew it was personal – extremely personal. And he could also tell by his boss' look of fury that he was pissed – extremely pissed – as well as concerned about the young man's welfare. "We'll find him, Brian," he assured his boss, who nodded curtly in acknowledgment.

"You're damned right we're going to find him," Brian vowed. "And he'll be sorry when I do."