Tripping Down 12 Steps Into Malibu

Unexpected Visitor

It was both generous and degrading that Ryan's father allowed him to work as his personal assistant. Generous because, while he isn't working as a lawyer yet, he still gets to sit at the "big kids table". He's there during briefings, consulting and during trial. He's even helping with research and case arguments. It's the closest he can get to working as a lawyer before he can actually work as a lawyer. It's degrading because Ryan still has to perform the duties of an assistant. Not to say the job of assisting itself is degrading. More so saying that Ryan would rather be doing something else.

He didn't enjoy being rushed off on coffee errands for the whole damn floor. He didn't like shadowing his father all day and opening doors for him. Walking around lugging stacks of heavy folders like he was some kind of mule. The worst was the people who didn't know that he was George's son. They spoke down on him like he couldn't spend their life savings on a pretty pair of shoes without a worry. There was this one guy, couldn't be more than five years older than Ryan himself, who kept calling him 'boy' instead of his name. He wasn't just some filing intern, he was the son to the owner of the fucking firm. And soon be one of the best lawyers in the damn place.

But for now, he'll sit quietly at his desk in front of his father's office while he checked the old man's e-mails.

Ryan was skimming over a plea for Ross & Ross to take a grand larceny case when he got the feeling he was being watched. Slowly, he looked away from the computer screen to glare at one of the young interns. A man with curly, red hair. For the life of him, Ryan couldn't remember his name. He did know that it started with a C... or maybe a B. Either way, that didn't explain why he was standing in front of him instead of working or something.

"Can I help you?" Ryan spoke up when he didn't.

He blushed and looked away. Probably just realizing that he was staring at the other man. It was cute, in an annoying way. If Ryan was looking for that kind of thing right now, he'd probably take the dude out and fuck him or something. But, as it turns out, he wasn't much in the mood for a companion lately. Too much other shit to do. Too many other memories still too recent in his head.

"I-uh, there's someone at the front desk-" He stammered.

Ryan held the sarcastic comment about taking his time to himself. He was trying to be a better person after all.

He eyed the clock. "It's only twelve. There's no appointment in place until three. No entry without an appointment."

"He asked to see you not Mr. Ross."

"Who is it?"

"I don't know."

"What did he say his name was?"

"He didn't." His cheeks darkened. "He was just adamant about you coming down as soon as possible and if not, he said he had all day to wait."

"Son of a bitch." Ryan groaned, pulling himself up from his chair. "You couldn't have called up?"

"You told me not to call during your father's lunch hour." He shrugged as they entered the elevator together.

"That was for shit concerning him." He pressed the button for the first level and leaned against the wall.

Again, the boy who's name he just couldn't remember, shrugged. They rode the few floors in silence. Ryan staring at the changing numbers, the boy staring at Ryan. It was closer to being eerie than it was complimenting. When the door finally opened on the lobby floor, they stepped out together. Ryan picked up his pace to the front desk, signaling for the boy to stop walking beside him.

He didn't know who he was expecting the waiting man to be. But he did know he wasn't expecting it to be Dallon. He nearly tripped over his own feet when the taller man came into view. A part of him considered turning around and dashing back to the elevator before he was spotted. Another part of him, a stronger and more curious part, wanted to know what the other man was doing here. So he stepped into his line of vision. Keeping his face neutral.

"Ryan." Dallon greeted him like he knew him. He didn't know him.

"Can I help you?"

"No. Well yes."

Ryan lifted an eyebrow. "Thanks for being clear."

"What I mean is that you can help Brendon."

Ryan's heart swung painfully against his ribs at the sound of that name. Three months. Three months since he heard it uttered. Thank god it wasn't a common one. Three months since he allowed himself to think it. Three months since he'd seen the face that came with it. So hearing it from the voice of the man who he was engaged to was enough to knock Ryan off his feet. But he held his ground. Remained impassive.

"Is he in some kind of legal trouble?" The first traitorous thought to pop into his head was that Brendon was arrested for something drug related. Not that he didn't have faith in his former roommate's ability to remain sober, he just knew how hard it could be. He knew how fragile the man was.

"No." Dallon shook his head. And maybe Ryan's heart hit against his ribs a little softer. "Can we talk somewhere more private?"

"I don't have an office."

"Then can we step outside?"

"We can talk right here."

"You're an asshole."

"Well cut right to the chase then." Ryan joked. Earning unsure laughs from both the receptionist and the red head boy who was still standing behind him.

"You can deflect with humor all you want. That won't change how horrible you are."

"And what exactly makes me so horrible?"

"What you did to Brendon."

"I didn't do anything to him. I helped him!"

"You helped you. You came bulldozing into his life and you fucked everything up. And then you just left. What kind of heartless bastard makes a weakened man love him and then shoves him away whenever he's feeling something he doesn't like?"

"Is that what he told you?" Ryan crossed his arms over his chest. "Is that what you think?"

"That's what I know." He corrected. "You don't tell someone you love them and then hang them out to dry."

"Isn't that what Brendon did to you?" It was a low blow but a necessary one. Ryan was feeling attacked in his own space.

Dallon didn't appear to be effected. "He still loves me. And he's still with me. He's always going to be with me."

"Good for you." Spoken through gritted teeth.

"As my friend."

"Beg pardon?"

"That man loves you, you fucking idiot." The two onlookers gasped. "And if you had a shred of common sense you'd realize being loved by Brendon is the best thing that could ever happen to anyone. You'd stop fucking running from it. You'd man up and love him back."

"And you don't care?" He challenged. "That the man you love loves someone else?"

"Of course I care. I care about him so much that I was willing to go to that someone else and try to put reason into his fucking head."

Something sparked to life in Ryan's chest. Something he didn't have the mental energy to ponder on. "I have to go. I have a job to get back to." He turned half way and stopped. "Give Brendon my regards. Please."