Page 1 of Trapped for Christmas

CHAPTER 1

MASON

1st October

“I thought I’d find you in here,” said Mason to his younger brother, Leo.

Mason’s brother was a best-selling crime author. Every year they’d have lunch on the first of October, before Leo left to spend two months at his cabin writing his next bestseller. They wouldn’t see each other again until Thanksgiving. Apart from a weekly text with an “I’m okay” and his latest word count, they wouldn’t even speak. They were similar in many ways. One of which was how obsessive they both were. For Mason, that was all about food; for Leo, it was the words on the page.

“It’s too noisy out there,” Leo replied.

Mason nodded in understanding. This was one of the few ways they were different. Leo loved the solitude, whereas Mason loved the chaotic noise of a busy kitchen. Leo had taken one of Mason’s private dining rooms, which he charged a premium for, although this one was never available for booking. It was his personal room, and he always kept it in case someone important in his life needed it. He rarely used it himself. It was mostly used by couples, which was a sore point for Mason.

“What time are you hitting the road?” asked Mason.

“I want to get out of the city before rush hour, so I’m at the cabin before dark.”

The door opened, and in walked the server carrying two burgers. That might have seemed downmarket for a Michelin-starred restaurant, but these were the same recipe Mason had created before he went to culinary school. It was tradition that he make them when they had this lunch together before Leo went off to write. He also made them when they were with their parents. He always offered something fancier, but his family kept him humble. This was homegrown food. His father had been the cook at home, which wasn’t typical when he was growing up. It had meant Mason had been in the kitchen since he could reach the countertop.

Their parents were now living in a luxury condo in Florida, enjoying their retirement. When the brothers had become successful in their own right, they agreed to make sure their parents would never have to worry about money again. It was the least they could do. Having two gay sons must have been a surprise, but they’d been nothing but supportive. That should be the norm, but Mason only had to think of one of his best friends to know how evil parents could be to their own kids.

“Thank you, Sasha,” said Mason, as she put the plates down.

Mason sat down, joining his brother. Another thing he could do with his family was eat a burger how you’re supposed to—with your hands. He took a bite and smiled. It was hard not to be arrogant when your food tasted this good. Something he wouldn’t say out loud, but the look from his brother said he knew what Mason was thinking.

“Has your agent said anything to you about a new contract?” asked Mason.

His brother had originally signed a seven-book deal for a high six-figure advance as a debut author, which was unheard of. Leo would be writing the final book of his contract and current series over the next two months.

“She’s talking to the publisher to see if they’re comfortable with the change.”

“They’d be stupid not to give you a new contract.”

“She suggested we shop around as well, just to be sure I’m getting the best deal.”

“Why don’t you go independent? It’d give you the creative freedom you’ve always wanted.”

“Like when you opened your own restaurant instead of being that asshole’s paid bitch?”

Mason laughed. He’d worked in a top restaurant as the sous chef, and his boss had been resentful that Mason was a better chef than him. On the few nights he’d taken the head chef role, the reviews had been significantly better than usual. Did his boss thank him for it? Not one bit. Just continued to be an asshole, so he quit. The owner of the restaurant had begged Mason to stay, but he didn’t want to be the sideshow anymore, he wanted to be the one who created the menu.

He’d written a business case and taken it to his friend, Sebastian, who agreed to invest in his restaurant, with the condition that Mason would buy him out within five years. Within six months Epicure had opened, and a year later he had his first Michelin star. Two years after that, he bought Sebastian out and was awarded the three stars he’d always dreamed of. He’d always be grateful to Sebastian for believing in him, and even if his friend was a billionaire, he would never pay for a meal in this restaurant and would be given a table whenever he asked. He lived in London now, with his husband Charlie, but he was still in New York frequently.

Mason thought his brother would be a lot happier if he went independent with his writing. He was technically his own boss, but he had to deal with his publisher and their demands, which he knew his brother resented as it stifled his creativity. Mason could never imagine not being his own boss now. He’d thought about opening other sites before, and had been approached by investors, but he wasn’t interested. He’d made enough money with Epicure that he was more than comfortable, but he couldn’t imagine ever not being at the restaurant. If he had multiple sites, there’d be an expectation that he would visit all of them regularly. Mason had also been offered TV shows, but couldn’t think of anything worse. He hated doing any form of publicity and only made the odd exception—a recent example being a photo shoot for a Pride Month exhibition. His friend Ryder was engaged to the photographer, Felix, and it had been for charity. He was happy to do something he thought was important, but anything mainstream was not for him.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” said Mason.

It was his assistant, Zeb. He had worked for Mason for two years. First in the kitchen on dishes, then prep, which he hated. Then Mason had asked him to be his personal assistant. He’d never had one before and wasn’t sure why. Zeb dealt with all his administration and the annoying people who bothered him every day, which gave Mason more time for cooking and creating. Zeb didn’t have any experience in the role, but Mason had wanted to give him a chance. He’d had a rough start in life, and despite some raised eyebrows from his friends, Zeb had made the role his own. Mason couldn’t cope without him now. Nowadays, his friends’ comments were about Mason having a crush. He was Zeb’s boss, so it was completely inappropriate and something he would never act on, but his friends were also wrong. He didn’t have a “crush” on Zeb . . . Mason was desperately in love with him.

“Sorry to interrupt, boss, but I need you to sign a couple of things that can’t wait.”

Mason wished he’d stop calling him “boss,” but when he’d told Zeb that nothing would ever happen between them, he’d started using the moniker. His friends teased him about that as well. Zeb had been dating a guy for several months, up until the summer—a guy Mason loathed. He knew that made him look like a dick. Mason would not cross that line with Zeb, but he didn’t have to like him being with someone else. It was completely irrational and not fair to stop Zeb from finding happiness, but there was something about the guy he didn’t like. He’d kept it to himself, though, as it wouldn’t have been right to say anything. The relationship had ended with no explanation, but then the guy had turned up at the restaurant, begging Zeb to take him back and saying he’d never hit him again. If it hadn’t been for Ryder and Deacon stopping him from doing anything stupid, Mason would probably be in prison now.

Zeb was a beautiful young man. His light brown skin, charming smile, perfectly styled hair and impeccable dress sense made him easily pass as mid-twenties, but he’d only turned twenty-one earlier this year, Having just turned forty, it was another reason Mason wouldn’t ever pursue anything with him. He was old enough to be Zeb’s father. Zeb needed a partner closer to his own age. Someone who could have adventures with him and give him a life he deserved, although Mason knew Zeb gravitated toward older men. Probably because he was more mature than his years, given everything he’d been through, but Mason also suspected it went deeper than that. It was hard to be so close and not be able to touch him, but he had to do what was right for Zeb. Mason was not the right man for him, and would never be, even if their situation weren’t so complicated.

Zeb passed him the papers and stepped back. Mason glanced at them. Zeb had used sticky notes to highlight the sections he needed to focus on, and the changes he’d made knowing what Mason would pick up. It was yet another reason why nothing could ever happen. The idea of not having Zeb as his assistant was something he didn’t even want to contemplate. Once the papers were signed, Zeb left, and Mason went back to eating his burger. He looked up at Leo, who was smiling at him.