Page 9 of Once Upon a December
“Damn right I did.”
Chapter Five
If someone had told Felix that first day he met Gibson Frost that the sound of the man’s laughter would quickly become one of his most treasured joys in the world, he would have called them a liar. After a week of working together, side by side with the man, he couldn’t imagine what life without it would be like. It wasn’t exactly a secret that the man was neither holly nor jolly, which only made the times that Felix managed to work a smile out of him more precious and one of those deep, husky laughs felt like a golden ticket in ways it was hard to explain.
He’d always liked a good challenge so maybe that was part of it. Getting Gibson to drop the hard, cold, politely professional distance was a job unto itself. Each meeting they had, Gibson showed up in full on CEO mode with a scowl and a reminder that their time was limited. Yet each meeting it took Felix less and less time to work his way past the shield this man kept so firmly in place.
He’d found that he enjoyed spending time with Gibson. He looked forward to their meetings, so much so that his assistant had begun to tease him about his crush. And that was the thing; he did have a crush on the guy. He couldn’t pinpoint when it had started, just that it had, and with every hour they spent together he became more and more enthralled with the mysterious man.
He wanted to know more about him. He wanted to know everything about him. He wished he could ask more than the occasional flippant personal question amid a discussion about work. He wanted to actually talk to the guy and more than anything, he wanted to know why it was that Gibson hated the holidays so much.
Because it had become clear to Felix while they worked that this wasn’t some simple dislike of the festivities surrounding Christmas. Gibson actually hated everything about this time of year. Everything. Despite their progress in putting together a truly epic Christmas party, and even their occasional laughter and comraderie. whenever Felix mentioned the actual day, family traditions, or some happy memory he had of the time, Gibson all but shut down.
He wanted to know why. He needed to know why. Because the truth was, he was fairly certain he wasn’t the only one with a little bit of a crush.
The first time Gibson had flirted with him, he’d been completely thrown. He’d assumed he was misinterpreting. After all, he’d had no idea that Gibson Frost was even gay. Not that he should have known. That wasn’t the kind of thing that he usually researched on his clients because it wasn’t any of his business. But since meeting Gibson, he had also steadfastly refused to Google the man, even though the urge was insistent.
He wanted Gibson to be the one to tell him what he wanted to know. He wanted the other man to open up to him. He wanted a lot of things that he couldn’t and shouldn’t want with this man after only a week of knowing him.
Gibson might be gay. He might occasionally look at Felix like he was undressing him in his mind. He might even flirt a little before he caught himself, cleared his throat and insisted they get back to work because time was money. But Gibson was still so completely out of his league that even entertaining the thought of something happening between them was delusional.
That day they’d met on the street, Felix had called Gibson Richie Rich. It had been meant as an insult but that didn’t make it any less true. Gibson was a Frost and despite his decision not to dig into the man’s past on the world wide web, the last name alone was enough for Felix to put together a few important details.
The Frost family had owned and run Frost Financial for generations. They were a global powerhouse, Fortune 500 company and a Frost had sat in this corner office every day since the first stock option was launched. Gibson had been born with more money, power and influence than Felix would ever earn in a lifetime of hard work and success. He didn’t hold it against Gibson. The man clearly took his business seriously and put his all into keeping the company at the top of its game. They were just from very different worlds and in Felix’s experience, men like Gibson Frost didn’t end up with men like Felix Michaelson.
Sure, his family had done well for themselves. His parents had even moved into the same neighborhood where Gibson lived. The difference was, he had more than a sneaking suspicion that the house in the White Oaks district, while a step way up for his own parents after they’d sold their successful catering business to retire and move into Knights Ports to be near their children, was a step down from what Gibson could truly afford if he wanted to.
He’d mentioned, once in passing, the family estate called Silver Creek Manor. Felix had asked why he didn’t live there and been shut down on that line of questioning immediately. It had been made clear to him that was not a topic Gibson wanted to discuss and since he didn’t want to irritate the man more than he already seemed to some days, he’d let it go. He’d let a lot of small comments go in the last week that he hoped to get answers to before the end of the month.
That thought made him frown. They were a week into December now. The party was just a couple more weeks away. After that, he would be taking a week or two off through the craziness of New Years and then he’d move on to his next client and Gibson Frost would be nothing but a name to file away in his records.
Why did the very idea of that fill him with a sense of loss so great it made his chest ache?
“No.” Gibson’s voice, sharp as nails cut through Felix’s thoughts and he glanced up from the table arrangements he’d been working on to where the other man had walked to the windows to take a phone call. “I said no, Dawson. That’s final.”
It was clear from his stiff posture that Gibson didn’t like the conversation he was having and everything in Felix wanted to go to him. He wanted to smooth a hand over the other man’s shoulder and give him a solid squeeze. He wanted to give him comfort and support, let him know that he wasn’t alone. Only he didn’t have any sort of right to do that or even to touch the other man, so he forced his eyes back down to the party plans even if his ears remained trained on the conversation happening a few feet away.
“I swear to God, it’s like he’s trying to provoke me.” Gibson all but growled into the phone, “No. No. I’ll deal with him.” There was a short pause and then a heavy sigh, “I know he’s your brother too but I’m the big brother it’s my responsibility to…” Another short pause and then in a softer voice Gibson shook his head, “I know you’re both grown men, Dawson. I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t. Shit. You know I’m no good with words. I just want to make sure you’re both okay.”
Felix glanced up from beneath his lashes and his stomach clenched at the sight of Gibson with his eyes closed and the fingers of his free hand pressed between his furrowed brows. He looked like he was in actual pain. Felix bit his lip to keep from saying something when Gibson turned suddenly and looked directly at him. He only offered up a small smile that he hoped conveyed his support and he felt a rush of warmth when Gibson returned it.
He looked away again and cleared his throat, “I’m at work, Dawson. We’ll continue this discussion later, okay? Bran can’t destroy himself before five o’clock can he?” Felix hid a smile when Gibson chuckled a little, “Yeah. Okay. Love you too. Bye.”
Felix looked up again only when he was certain he had his curiosity under control. Gibson stuffed the cell phone back into the pocket of his slacks and glanced up at him from beneath his golden lashes. His shoulders were up high, by his ears, as if he were shrugging and he looked a little sheepish when his lips quirked and Felix realized he’d in no way hidden all the questions he had from this man.
“That was my youngest brother, Dawson.”
Felix nodded slowly, unsure if this was permission to ask a personal question but figuring if it wasn’t that Gibson would shut him down, “It sounded like you were worried about him.”
“No.” Gibson slowly moved back towards him, “Dawson doesn’t give me reason to worry about him. It’s Bran, our middle brother. He enjoys testing my boundaries and Dawson worries that one of these days I’ll cut him off completely.”
“Cut him off? Financially? I thought both your brothers were grown.”
“They are, but as the eldest I’ve been in charge for a long time. Dawson worries more that I’ll cut Branson off from the family support system, not from his trust fund.”
“Oh, I see.” He said even though he wasn’t sure he really did.
Gibson rubbed at that spot between his brows again, “It’s just this damn time of year. Bran goes off the rails because he can’t deal with it. God, I wish there was a way to just fast forward to the new year and avoid all of it.”
