About You

By A.J. Llewellyn

The psychic predicted Ky would meet his one and only. What in the world does he do with two guys who both match her description?

Ky Maxwell is desperate for work. When his cushy studio PR job disappears, his former boss takes pity on him, referring him to an independent movie company going into production with a huge sci-fi trilogy.

Ky's excited until Lisa, his prospective employer, insists on doing an astrological chart of Ky as part of the interview, along with a psychic reading. His crazy maybe-boss predicts a new man coming into Ky's life. She goes into great detail. He's a fire sign, probably a Leo, his first name starts with a T, he's in his early 30s. And...he's the one!

Ky couldn't be less interested. He needs work. Love won't pay the bills. He doesn't get the job because Lisa believes their stars are out of alignment. Really? The reading is proving to be frighteningly accurate. Since he's cut off from her, though, he has no idea which of the two wonderful new guys he meets is his forever man. How can he choose? Or will they, too, soon vanish as fast as Ky's last paycheck?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: Dec 13, 2016
• ISBN: 9781786515117

A.J. Llewellyn

A.J. Llewellyn lives in California, but dreams of living in Hawaii. Frequent trips to all the islands, bags of Kona coffee in the fridge and a healthy collection of Hawaiian records keep this writer refueled. A.J. never lacks inspiration for male/male erotic romances and on the rare occasions this happens, pursues other passions such as collecting books on Hawaiiana, surfing and spending time with friends and animal companions. A.J. Llewellyn believes that love is a song best sung out loud.

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About You

ISBN # 978-1-78651-511-7

©Copyright A.J. Llewellyn 2016

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright November 2016

Edited by Sarah Smeaton

Pride Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2016 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

ABOUT YOU

A.J. Llewellyn

The psychic predicted Ky would meet his one and only. What in the world does he do with two guys who both match her description?

Ky Maxwell is desperate for work. When his cushy studio PR job disappears, his former boss takes pity on him, referring him to an independent movie company going into production with a huge sci-fi trilogy.

Ky’s excited until Lisa, his prospective employer, insists on doing an astrological chart of Ky as part of the interview, along with a psychic reading. His crazy maybe-boss predicts a new man coming into Ky’s life. She goes into great detail. He’s a fire sign, probably a Leo, his first name starts with a T, he’s in his early 30s. And…he’s the one!

Ky couldn’t be less interested. He needs work. Love won’t pay the bills. He doesn’t get the job because Lisa believes their stars are out of alignment. Really? The reading is proving to be frighteningly accurate. Since he’s cut off from her, though, he has no idea which of the two wonderful new guys he meets is his forever man. How can he choose? Or will they, too, soon vanish as fast as Ky’s last paycheck?

Dedication

To my best friend, Venus Aphrodite, my faithful companion for fifteen years. Each day I had with you was a gift. To quote Flavia Wheedon, If I could sit across the porch from God, I’d thank him for lending me you. xoxo

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Aeromexico: Grupo Aeromexico

ASPCA: The American Society For the Prevention of Cruelty To Animals

Avid: Avid Identification Systems Inc.

Band-Aid: Johnson & Johnson Corporation

Botox: Allergan, Inc.

Coca-Cola: Coca-Cola Company

Criminal Minds: CBS Corporation

Baywatch: RTL Group S.A.

Donald Duck: Disney Enterprises, Inc.

Facebook: Facebook, Inc.

Funny or Die: Funny or Die Inc.

Grand Marnier: Société des Produits Marnier-Lapostolle Corporation

Hawaii Five-0: CBS Studios Inc.

Heath: Huhtamaki Finance BV

iPad: Apple Inc.

iPhone: Apple Inc.

iPod: Apple Inc.

Jaguar: Jaguar Land Rover Limited

JetBlue: JetBlue Airways Corporation

Lord of the Rings: J.R.R Tolkien. The Saul Zaentz Company DBA Tolkien Enterprises

McDonald’s: McDonald’s Corporation

Mini Cooper: Bayerische Motoren Werke Aktiengesellschaft Corporation

Naked Kombat: CyberNet Entertainment LLC

Paramount Pictures: Paramount Pictures Corporation

Rosetta Stone: Rosetta Stone Ltd Corporation

Skype: Microsoft Corporation / Skype Technologies SA Corporation

Starbucks: Starbucks Corporation dba Starbucks Coffee Company

Subway: Doctor’s Associates Inc.

Taser: TASER International Inc.

Technicolor: Technicolor Trademark Management Corporation

Instagram: Facebook, Inc.

Snapchat: Snapchat, Inc.

Twitter: Twitter, Inc.

Universal Studios: Universal City Studios LLC

YouTube: Alphabet Inc.

Hawaii Five-O: CBS Corporation

The Counter: Custom Built Gourmet Burgers

Lego: The Lego Group

Google: Alphabet Inc.

Café La Especial: Café La Especial

Tacos El Chiapas: Tacos El Chiapas

Vendome Liquors: Vendome Wines & Spirits

Tiki-Ti: Tiki-Ti

Disneyland: The Walt Disney Company

Chapter One

I had never been fired before in my whole life. I sat there in Frick’s office… Or was it Frack? I could never keep those guys straight because I hadn’t had the job very long. And they were identical twins. Personally, I thought they should have worn nametags. Somebody told me I could tell them apart by their teeth, but that was by the by. Two weeks I’d been working for them, to be precise, but now we had to say farewell.

I listened in disbelief as he said, We have to let you go.

Yes, Frack echoed. Or was it Frick? We have to let you go.

You’re too expensive.

Yes, you’re too expensive.

I wondered, as they kept blathering, how many other people in Hollywood had been fired by a Greek chorus?

It has nothing to do with your job performance. It’s necessary cutbacks. Our bottom line.

Yes. Our bottom line.

And…unfortunately, our last movie tanked.

Frack—or maybe it was Frick—didn’t echo the last sentiment. Studio executives hated to admit failure. I already knew the movie had tanked. That’s why they’d hired me, Ky Maxwell, to whip up a groundswell of PR about their new movie. Then they’d gone and fired their Executive Creative Director. I’d had a bad feeling that his job loss would also mean mine. It was the way these things went in Hollywood. Any baby the ECD had hired went out with the bathwater too.

I was really sorry now that I hadn’t listened to all my friends who had told me it was career suicide to leave a big, cushy job at Paramount Pictures for a small company like Lunchbox Productions.

How many times did you open your lunchbox as a kid and find you had lousy sandwiches? one of my friends had asked.

I felt just like the guy on JetBlue who opened the emergency exit and jumped off the plane, except that I was being pushed, and unlike him, I didn’t even have time to grab a couple of beers on my way down.

Frick and Frack didn’t shake my hand. They didn’t believe in bodily contact at Lunchbox Productions. Germs, you know. I wished now I’d contracted a galloping case of strep throat to breathe all over them. They pointed to the door, together, as if I had no idea where the damned thing was.

Lucy, the woman from Human Resources, was waiting for me outside what had been my office up until ten minutes ago. I was still in shock. I’d thought Frick and Frack were calling me in to discuss our weekly strategy meeting before marshaling the troops. I’d had no idea they’d been about to shove their boots up my ass.

You can’t go in there, Lucy said, barring entry into my office in a dramatic way.

But my things are in there, I said. I could see my iPad, iPhone, and iPod in its soundstage dock. These were my personal possessions. I wasn’t going anywhere without them.

She looked askance. She obviously hadn’t expected me to react and she instantly called security on her cell phone, as though I were a dangerous lunatic about to go postal on her. Frick and Frack hid in their offices as security arrived. One of the two armed guards kept his hand on his Taser. I suspected he was itching to use it. I remained calm as he escorted me into the office so I could remove my things.

Lucy scurried in with a form for me to sign. Would you like an exit interview? She clapped her hand over her mouth. Oops, sorry, she said when she removed it. That’s only for people who resign. She gave me a pleading glance. Please don’t tell them I screwed up.

I won’t.

She gave me a shaky smile and dangled my paycheck like a carrot. I had to sign the waiver exempting the company from any future lawsuit in exchange for getting two weeks’ severance. I signed Donald Duck, not that she noticed. I took the check out of her hand. She was too busy staring at the security guard, who was, by anyone’s standards, a handsome guy. We’d dated a couple of times the week I’d started work. Joe’s addiction to steroids and lengthy gym sessions, and my addiction to long hours of work, had kinda killed things for us.

I’d liked Joe, but my less than enthusiastic response to evenings spent doing stomach crunches had wrecked any chance of a romance. I thought he was still pissed that I’d stopped returning his calls. He stared at me, his thumb caressing the Taser on his tool belt.

Time to boogie.

He waited patiently for me to cram my last Heath bar into my briefcase from my chocolate stash in the top drawer.

You and candy. He shook his head.

Lucy acted surprised. She glanced at me. I shrugged my shoulders. Let her think…and wonder.

Joe and his partner escorted me outside. They were both so bulked up they could hardly put their arms down to their sides. I felt like a criminal. As I left my office, I peered over my shoulder and discovered that my replacement was already moving into my nice, two-week-old swivel chair. I wasn’t surprised to see that it was my assistant, Alessa Thompson. I had brought her with me from Paramount.

Et tu, Brute?

I felt bruised more by her shoe joining the others up my ass than losing the job itself. Now I understood why she’d been sniffing around my desk the past couple of days. She’d been trying to figure out what I was up to. I’d been in the midst of organizing a massive marketing campaign with McDonald’s. Without my contacts, she wouldn’t know where to begin. I’d only ever given her limited access to my stellar list of go-to people. I had password-protected my phone, but my iPad was still too new for me to have programmed much into it.

Outside in the parking lot of Universal Studios, where small production companies came and went like take-out meals, I handed Joe my parking pass as I stuffed my belongings into the trunk of my treasured Mini Cooper. I loved that damned car, but it had scared me since the day I’d bought it. It was so tiny and with all the idiots driving massive SUVs in LA, I was always petrified some goofball would steamroll right over me.

Who knew the steamroller would be two humans who couldn’t rub a couple of brain cells together?

Alessa. God! Alessa was not only my assistant, but one of my best friends. This would sure cast a pall on all those weekend brunches. They’d hired her, not because she was better than me, but because she was cheap. And as I always liked to say, you get what you pay for.

Joe took the parking pass from me, examining it carefully between his thumb and forefinger, holding it up to the sun, squinting as though I might have had time between getting sacked and being escorted from the premises to create a dummy duplicate. Nope. The only dummy duplicates on the lot were Frick and Frack.

Sorry it didn’t work out, he said.

Yeah, me too. I wasn’t sure if he was talking about our dating life or my job, but felt that my response