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the company that originally developed it,” Brad said glumly. “Now you know why the original developer got into trouble and made himself vulnerable.”
     
    “Only now it’ll take Sundstrom Homes down?” Drew suggested.
     
    “I doubt it, but it’s not helping my career any,” Brad said. He picked at his pasta.
     
    “I wish I had better news for you, but I’m not really sure how to help you with that place,” Drew said. He smiled at Brad, who seemed calmer now that he’d gotten what he wanted out of Drew. “You’ve only been out of school for a few months. Still learning the ropes, are you?”
     
    “Not really. I’ve worked for the family business every summer since I started high school,” Brad said.
     
    When he didn’t elaborate further, Drew didn’t push it. “So tell me what else you’re up to.”
     
    “Now why would you be interested in that?” Brad said, smiling a real smile for the first time since they sat down. He started eating.
     
    “I might have my reasons,” Drew said with an arched eyebrow.
     
    Brad laughed, and it warmed Drew right down to his toes. It was a loud laugh, almost a guffaw from a man Drew was learning didn’t do things quietly. A few people turned their heads to glare, but he didn’t care. Drew was just glad that Brad had shaken off the glum demeanor that that horrendous subdivision inspired.
     
    Afterward, conversation flowed like water, sometimes like a gentle stream, sometimes charging ahead like the varsity eight at the PCRCs. Drew still thought of that magnificent sight, the CalPac V-8 surging ahead of the other crews like eight thoroughbred stallions (and one tiny jockey) moving in perfect synch, backs bending, chests heaving, oars blades knifing into the water.
     
    Drew had never witnessed the human body pushed to the brink like that before. That he’d been there for Nick, his best friend, was special. That he’d gotten to see Brad in his native element—that’d been something else.
     
    For all that Brad set off his gaydar, Drew didn’t know for sure that Brad was… questioning, and straight men could get pretty freaked out by the obvious signs of gay interest.
     
    “Brad, look… I’ll bring clients by Suburban Symphony. At the very least, it’ll leave records of increased traffic,” Drew said impulsively. He couldn’t help himself. There was just something about Brad that made him want to keep him smiling. “It’ll at least show your father that you’re earning your keep.”
     
    But Brad shook his head. “No way, you were right. It’s a dump, a tacky little subdivision that’s too far from anything. Suburban Graveyard is doomed. How I’m supposed to bring it back is anyone’s guess.”
     
    “It can’t be that bad. If someone wants something in that price point, I’ll keep it mind,” Drew said. Brad quirked a smile, and Drew felt all goofy.
     
    The waiter left the check, and they both grabbed for it. “My treat,” Drew said, pulling it close to him. Brad had long arms. He wasn’t taking any chances.
     
    Outside the restaurant, Brad shook Drew’s hand. “Here,” he said, handing Drew a card. “My contact info.”
     
    “I’ve already got it,” Drew said with a smile.
     

Chapter Four

     

     
    Brad spent the drive home flying on an adrenaline high. Drew rocked. That man was awesome, no two ways about it.
     
    He laughed out loud. He hadn’t made too big a fool of himself, not since he’d picked up the phone and called Drew in the first place. At first, he’d been so nervous he could barely speak. But he’d planned ahead, and he’d stuck to his script, pages arrayed before him on the desk. It was probably a little stilted, but it helped put his mind at ease.
     
    And then Drew had asked him a question he hadn’t planned on, and Brad panicked. He’d never been one of those people who thought fast on his feet, and as nervous as he’d been, Brad froze.
     
    Then he’d frantically rifled through his papers,