Page 3 of Xtasy

Atlas whirled around to face Hawk. “Most definitely not! It’s very economical and good for the environment! And, for your information, little man isn’t one damn bit better than kid. My name is Atlas. Call me that or don’t address me at all.”

Atlas heard Ambrose clapping from his perch above them. “This one is feisty, Hawk. Better watch yourself, he just might clip your wings!”

Hawk laughed good-naturedly. “He probably could if he’d put any effort into it. As it is, though, my wings are feeling safe and sound. This little pup doesn’t bite. Only snarls and scratches, I’d bet my life on it.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to hate you,” Atlas snapped irritably. He glanced up at the other man and added, “Both of you, probably.”

“Nope. You’ll love me. Everybody always does. As Hawk told you, I’m Ambrose. I can’t wait to meet you. Come on up and show me what you’ve got.”

“What is this place?” Atlas asked Hawk as he looked around. “It’s located in a shitty area and doesn’t look like much on the outside, but it’s pretty damn luxurious on the inside. I’m guessing it was some sort of manufacturing plant…uh, back in its day…a million years ago.”

“Don’t be a smartass, little man. It’s such a bore when I’m not able to punish you for it.”

And that was a fucking strange thing to say….

“And,again, little man doesn’t work for me.” Atlas retorted.

“Too bad.” Hawk waved his hand around, indicating the structure. “You’re right, this was an old textile mill. My grandparents and my parents worked here when I was a kid. It didn’t pay worth shit but it was stable and, from what I can remember, they were always good to their employees—kinda like a family. See that little squared-off partition area over there? My grandmother worked there, in that exact spot, from the time she graduated from high school until she retired at the age of seventy-two. She welcomed guests and worked the switchboard. Come look at it, it’s cool as shit.”

Was this guy seriously taking him down memory lane?How could he pull off snarky one minute and jackass the next?

“Look at all those buttons. I bet there’s over a hundred. It’s a reminder of how technology has changed. She’d let me come in with her sometimes, especially around the holidays when I was out of school. I’d sit under the desk and beg for nickels to get gum out of the gumball machines up front.”

Atlas couldn’t help but chuckle out loud. Just to imagine the man beside him fitting underneath a desk or begging for anything was unbelievable.

“Stop laughing. I know what you’re thinking, and I have you know I fit nicely under the desk. It was some of the happiest days of my life, so when the place shut down and went up for auction, I had to have it. After a couple of years of busting my ass with renovations, it’s now my home, office, and, well, recreational space.”

“And garage,” Atlas added under his breath.

“Yes, and garage. Okay, let’s get upstairs and see what Ambrose has to offer. He’s told me a bit about his current project but not everything. We can both learn the details at the same time. Follow me.”

Atlas followed him up a metal spiral staircase, trying not to fall while maneuvering the odd steps and watching Hawk’s tight ass at the same time. The man had to spend hours working out on the equipment he’d seen downstairs. When they reached the top of the stairs, Atlas could tell this was Hawk’s living area. It was almost as big as the lower level—only not as wide because it looked like part of the floor had been taken out to create the balcony that Ambrose had been leaning over. Speaking of Ambrose, he’d put on a shirt and was lounging lazily on an oversized sofa, drink in hand.

“Well, look at you,” Ambrose drawled. “Even prettier up close. Yes, you will do nicely for my project.”

“He’s not interested,” Hawk said. “I asked him.”

“He looks interested.”

Atlas rolled his eyes. “What is this? Bad cop/worse cop? Jeezus, you two are weirdos. Is there a real job available, even for someone without an agent, or is this a bullshit prank? Contrary to what both of you obviously think, I’m not an idiot, a kid, or a little man.” Atlas huffed in frustration. “Just forget it. I’m out of here.”

Hawk plopped down on the couch next to Ambrose and said, “Lighten up,Atlas. You came for a job. Ambrose has a job. I take the photos. Sit down and let’s talk about it. You are wound very, very tight. Loosen up some or you’ll end up with wrinkles before wrinkle time.”

When Hawk’s arm draped casually around Ambrose’s neck, Atlas felt a wave of disappointment wash over him…which was absolutely ridiculous. As if he’d ever have a chance with a guy that looked like those two did. Confidence and arrogance oozed from them while he was merely Mr. Predictable.

Hawk waved his hand toward the other couch. “Have a seat and let’s talk business. Need something to drink? If you want alcohol, I can call a car for you and keep yours safe until somebody can bring you back to pick it up.”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Okay, Atlas, let’s ask the most important question. Do you know what kind of photos I take?” Hawk asked. “I think we need to get that out in the open first thing.”

Atlas took a deep breath. “Erotic nudes, I believe.”

“And you’re comfortable with that? Taking your clothes off and allowing me to take pictures. Touch you? For positioning, of course. I never get romantically involved with any of my clients.”

That was disappointing but, again, as if Atlas would ever have a chance. “I can do whatever is necessary.”

Hawk leaned forward. “Listen, if you’re here just for the money, like you’re in trouble financially and would doanythingto get out of it, this isn’t the place for you. We don’t take advantage of other people’s hardships. It won’t be art if it’s forced.”

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