Page 16 of The Associate
He removed them one at a time. They went into the shallow, black ceramic dish beside the watch. They landed with a soft sound, each in its own corner.
He shifted his attention to his shirt.
The mother-of-pearl buttons came undone in a slow sequence, starting at the collar and moving downward. When the fabric loosened around his shoulders, he slid it off and folded it once, then again, then into its final, crisp rectangle. Not a wrinkle out of place.
He laid it neatly at the chair next to the dresser. It looked untouched, as if it had come straight from the dry cleaner.
His tailored slacks followed, then his cotton undershirt, each garment folded with the same exacting care. Only when everything was arranged to his standards did he cross the room to the ensuite bathroom.
The lights warmed automatically as he stepped inside. He turned on the shower without testing the temperature; he knew precisely, from years of repetition, where the handle needed to sit. Steam rose quickly, clouding the clear glass enclosure. Gael stepped under the near-scalding stream and let the water run over his skin.
He didn’t linger. He never did. Efficiency, even here.
When he finished, he pushed the heavy glass door open, a cloud of steam billowing out into the cooler air. The large, frameless mirror above the double-sink vanity had fogged over completely, its surface blurred into a soft, white haze. Gael reached for a towel, wiped his face dry, and then, almost absently, dragged the edge of his hand across the fogged mirror in a single, straight, vertical line.
He looked at his fragmented reflection in that clear stripe for a long moment, breathing evenly, as the steam continued to curl around him.
Then he turned away, the towel draped loosely over his shoulders, and stepped back into the darkened bedroom.
The room was dimmer now, the automatic lights having softened to their evening settings. Deep, geometric shadows gathered in the corners. Gael stood there, his bare feet on the cool floor, letting the silence attempt to settle.
It didn’t settle the way it usually did. The calm wouldn't come.
His mind, usually so disciplined, betrayed him.
Samuel.
The image rose, sharp and uninvited.
Samuel standing up too quickly when Gael had entered the office, his posture snapping upright like a pulled thread.
The brief, telling sway of his body.
The way his fingertips had shot out to catch the edge of the desk.
The fine, persistent tremor in his hand when told to drink the water.
That single, involuntary shiver that had run through him the moment their eyes had met.
And then, quiet, breathless, stripped of all pretense, the fractured,"Yes, sir."
It had not been performed. It had not been calculated for gain. It hadn't even seemed fully conscious. It was a leak, a rupture in the carefully maintained facade.
Gael sat down on the edge of the bed, the towel slipping slightly from his shoulders as he exhaled once; a sharp breath. The younger man's reaction shouldn’t have mattered. It shouldn’t have stayed with him long enough to follow him home. He’d witnessed hundreds of submissive responses in his lifetime; trained, feigned, or eagerly offered.
But this had not been any of those familiar currencies. It had been pure, unvarnished instinct. Raw, unguarded, and genuine.
He didn't put a name to what that stirred in him. He wasn't inclined for psychoanalysis this evening.
Instead, his mind reached for the label he understood best: unprofessional.
Had a boundary been crossed? Had he, himself, misjudged a situation?
It wasn't clear. The dynamic between them had shifted, for a moment, and now it hovered in the quiet space between them like a held breath.
Gael stood, pulled a pair of soft pajama pants and crossed the room to his study. The polished hardwood felt cool under his bare feet as he powered on the smaller of his two monitors, the screen blinking to life with a soft, blue glow. He sat down in the worn, black leather chair, the only object in the penthouse that showed legitimate signs of use, and opened the encrypted browser.
The Knot's private booking calendar appeared instantly, the interface clean and stark.
