Just Want More: The Big Apple Billionaires Series

By Evelyn Jeannie Hall

An M/M Romance Spinoff to the Big Apple Billionaire Series!

To Rookie Wagner, the freshly promoted CPA at the most prestigious up-and-coming banking firm in Manhattan, his professional life is exceptional. Fabulous bosses. Fabulous pay. And a fabulous work environment.

At least until newly hired investment banker Tobias Ellis saunters into the Friday morning meeting.

Tobias is arrogant, pushy, and so full of himself he won't speak to anyone who's not a founding partner. Still, as the firm's unofficial goodwill ambassador, Rookie sets out to welcome this muscle-bound and scorching-hot addition to their team.

Only to get the door slammed in his face.

Deciding to give the pompous newbie a wide berth is a no-brainer. But then Rookie witnesses Mr. Aloof being ejected from a bar. Taking pity on the jerk, Rookie brings him home, only to have Tobias hit on him in a big—in every sense of the word—way.

The next morning goes poorly, as do the next couple of weeks. But now when Rookie glances toward Tobias, it's to catch Tobias already looking at him.

As annoyed as Rookie feels about that night, he can't help feeling intrigued by this guy, who clearly isn't as straight as he wants everyone to think he is.

When he attempts to befriend Tobias, the banked fire he sees behind his eyes ignites. The only question is if Rookie can avoid getting burned by those flames.

WARNING: the story contains drunk and disorderly former hockey players, bi awakenings, a grumpy guy in denial, and lots of hot office sex.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evelyn Jeannie Hall
• Release date: Nov 18, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223191124

Book preview

One: Hot as Hades

MAY

As Rookward Rookie Wagner listened to his friend and boss Katrina Farrell-Torres conducting their weekly Friday morning meeting, he felt a rush of affection for her. Had it not been for Katrina, he might still be stuck in the receptionist trenches forced to kowtow to an employer who communicated her requests through yelling and nasty emails rather than speaking to others as if they too were valuable members of the human race.

Being dumped on day in and day out was so not fun. Rookie had a much better general outlook now.

Another reason for his better general outlook? Eye candy. Hot as Hades eye candy. First, there was Katrina’s husband and business partner Benjamin Torres, or as she referred to him, Benji. Puerto Rican, bilingual, cut like an Adonis, with a sexy rough and tumble scar bisecting his eyebrow, and perpetual black scruff covering his cheeks and the indent in his chin.

Yeah, baby. Then, there was Zane Morrison, Benji’s BFF and Katrina’s sister’s man. African American, bass voice, tall, massively built, and sweet-tempered. Yummy, yummy, yum, yum.

Alas, both taken. And rather obviously... both as straight as freaking dang arrows.

They were each perfect Mr. Rights. Completely unavailable and uninterested in anyone else but the loves of their lives, Mr. Rights. Not that Rookie would ever attempt to wrangle them away from their beloved ladies, anyway—he adored Katrina and her identical triplet siblings, Lacey and Elizabeth—he just wished he could find a man of his own. One just as flawless and unendingly kind as those two fine specimens.

A perfect Mr. Right that belonged to him.

You’d think living in a city with nearly eight and a half million people would aid him on his quest, but somehow, he kept meeting, dating, and falling for the same type of guy.

The complicated type. The oh-sweetie-honey-how-did-you-not-notice-that-he’s-so-wrong-for-you type. The ones who talked the talk but didn’t walk the walk. The ones who seemed like dreamboats, only to expose their fatal flaws after Rookie had already given them his body. And a couple times, his heart.

And once, his soul.

But he had at last recovered from that disaster. He and Xavier were long over. Yet Rookie couldn’t seem to keep from analyzing the postmortem. Xavier had all the earmarks of a happily ever after.

He’d been good looking. Nice. Funny. Pristine bod. Of course, the dude had been so far in the closet he was probably finding five-year old Easter eggs next to the expired Halloween candy and no longer trendy Christmas presents. He’d left Rookie for a girlfriend he’d apparently been keeping on the side all along. So not as nice as Rookie had thought. Xavier hadn’t been fair to anyone. Not the girlfriend. Not Rookie. Not even himself.

Ugh.

Even his great aunt Angelica, or Auntie Ang, as he referred to her, hadn’t been able to offer him a solution other than, Keep trying, Rookie boy. You’ll find him eventually. And she was the only family member he had who he loved and trusted without question.

The thing was Rookie didn’t know why this kept happening to him. He was no longer some wet-behind-the-ears teenager new to the gay scene. While he’d never made a formal announcement to his fellow students, teachers and friends growing up, everyone knew he was gay.

As a boy, all his friends had been girls. All of them. As he grew older, his already flamboyant personality didn’t exactly grow more subtle. Neither did his flirting style. He’d flirt with any grown man, regardless of preference. At least as long as they didn’t look at him with any smear the queer antipathy in their eyes.

Been there, done that.

Yet lots of dating and one serious boyfriend later—thanks a lot for stealing five years of my life there, Xave—Rookie had zero long-term committed relationships. Zero boyfriends. Zero someday husbands.

Zero.

It depressed him if he thought about it long enough.

Rookie, where are you on the Lieberman account? Katrina asked him, and it was only his ability to multitask that saved him.

It’s ready for filing. Just needs the CEO’s signature, and I sent that via DocuSign already.

The sides of her lips lifted. Excellent, as always. We had five client requests for extending their extensions. I emailed them to you. Think you can take care of those today?

Consider it done, he answered cheerfully.

Benji, you or Zane have any accounts you need consults on? she asked her hubby.

Zane might.

Yeah, there’s this... Zane answered, but Rookie had zoned out again.

It was a gift he had. The ability to keep several subjects in his head at once without losing track. While most executives loathed meetings, Rookie didn’t mind them. Besides, they’d become necessary.

The firm of Farrell, Torres, Morrison, and Associates hadn’t even incorporated them until last year. That had been due to all the overlap occurring between the investment side of their business and the tax side. As CPAs, he and Katrina handled all the tax returns for an ever-increasing list of Fortune 500 companies based there in New York. Mostly because they’d become or had already been banking clients of either Benji or Zane’s.

Dealing with seven-plus digit accounts on a regular basis meant keeping all those plates spinning in the air without dropping any.

To that end, the firm had been making a few new hires. Since Rookie no longer served as their receptionist—unless in a pinch—they’d hired one to replace him named Raven. They’d also hired an investment banker who was supposed to start soon. Later today, if he wasn’t mistaken.

Ah, there he is, said Benji, as if Rookie’s remembrance had transported the man into existence like some fictional literary villain.

Oh, Jeez, a villain? Why hadn’t he thought of the good guys instead? Imagining the dredges of some imaginary society materializing rather than the good guys was a sign that his glumness was getting the better of him. He’d have to watch that, or it’d start to show.

Rookie twisted around in his chair to see the outline of the new guy in the doorway of the conference room. And what an outline it was. The dude could’ve worked as Arnold Schwarzenegger’s body double because he’d been built like a linebacker. Or a marine. Or a Navy SEAL. Or maybe a marine’s own personal Navy SEAL.

Dayum...

Light red hair only two shades away from blond faded down his scalp leaving waves at the top and a shaven head along the bottom. He had a full but manicured beard that started at his thin sideburns and covered the lower half of his face. And he was wide. Thick shouldered with biceps that bulged right through his dress shirt and suit jacket. And, holy frijoles, his slate gray eyes matched his three-piece suit. Like, exactly. Internally, Rookie exclaimed it again.

Dayum...

And what was the name of this god-like creature?

Everyone, this is Tobias Ellis, Benji proclaimed. He’s joining us from an investment firm in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.

Welcome to the U.S. Interested in the bright lights of the city that never sleeps? Katrina asked him, being friendly, but Tobias didn’t smile. Not even by a millimeter.

Something like that, Tobias spoke surprisingly softly for such a man of well... bulk. Also, his voice might be more of a tenor, something else Rookie wouldn’t have predicted. Rookie waited for him to go on, to tell everyone about himself, but Tobias didn’t. Luckily, Benji covered the slightly awkward void.

We’re thrilled to have you, Tobias. Then, Benji made introductions around the table, but other than an austere nod at each of them, Mr. Tall, Red, and Silent said nothing.

Okay, then.

Still, when he lumbered by, Rookie caught a scent on the air. It contained a combination of mint, musk, and leather, which was unusual yet inexplicably alluring. Instinctually, Rookie inhaled more deeply, trying to bring more of it into his lungs. Curious about the mixture of fragrances, he seriously considered sitting on the guy’s lap so he could study his smell for further analysis.

By the time their Friday end-of-week meeting wrapped up, Rookie felt like he would die if he didn’t talk about this dude soon. Fortunately, Raven was in the breakroom, finger combing her long black hair as she used their fancy cappuccino machine to make her morning brew. Rookie took a brief second to sniff in the aroma of life-giving caffeine, then sauntered right up beside her.

So, have you seen him? he asked her.

The bodybuilder they hired as an investment banker, you mean? Oh yeah. She licked her finger and affected a production of bringing it around to her ass, making a sizzling sound when she made contact.

Yes. See, this was why he adored Raven. She loved to dish as much as he did.

Rookie fanned himself. Think he’d let me ride piggyback on those massive shoulders of his?

I don’t know, Rookster. He gives off a pretty straight vibe if you ask me. Should I call dibs or do you think he’s... She thumped her chest and gasped melodramatically. Off the market?

Shut your mouth, girl. Don’t jinx this.

Sorry, sorry. She raised her hands, long orange talons gleaming, in surrender. The girl dressed like it was Halloween every day. Rookie loved that about her. You’re right.

Besides, I need to speak to him one on one to engage the full power of my gaydar.

Raven grinned with matching pumpkin-hued lips. Just make sure you keep using your powers for good instead of evil.

Rookie winked at her. No promises.

As the day wore on, he became more and more curious about the intrepid Mr. Ellis, but the man never left his office. So, around lunchtime, Rookie wandered his way. The door of Tobias’s office had been left half open, yet it blocked the man from view. No fair. Rookie could hear that he was on the phone, so pulling out his own cell, he scrolled through Instagram, waiting until Tobias was free.

You won’t want to miss out on this opportunity, Mr. Jones. These sorts of ROIs don’t come along every day. Tobias paused, and Rookie had been right. His voice definitely came in at the tenor range. Still quite masculine, though. What is it going to take to convince you?

At first, Rookie had been listening more to his tone of voice than his spiel, but now he altered his focus. That had been an intense hard sale technique the guy was using, something Rookie had never seen either Benji or Zane doing. Not that the founding partners couldn’t garner fresh meat, they both excelled at it. They just didn’t believe in utilizing harsh tactics to do it.

Good man, Tobias said, his tone barely changing, though if Rookie had to guess, he’d say he’d just procured the account.

Still, who was he to judge how the new guy did his job? So what if he was more aggressive? Maybe the partners had been looking for someone with a brusquer approach. He knocked on the door, pushing with his knuckles as he did to expose the man behind the desk. Tobias stared at him, and Rookie was again struck by how flawlessly that suit—ooh, and tie—matched his eyes. Gawd, he was pretty. In a hyperbolically macho kind of way.

Hey, Rookie greeted him, lengthening the word into two syllables. I’m Rookie Wagner, acting as the company’s goodwill ambassador. Why don’t you let me take you out to lunch as my first duty to you? I know all the tasty eats around here.

The words he’d chosen weren’t by accident.  He’d specifically said take you out to see how this man would interpret it.

Only when Tobias turned toward him did he spot the Bluetooth receiver in his ear, which apparently meant he remained on the phone.

Shit.

Of course, Tobias said, continuing his call while sending Rookie a fierce scowl. I’ll have our receptionist send those forms right on over.

Without missing a beat, he stood, his thick thighs shifting his office chair so it rolled off behind him. Maintaining eye contact, he approached, his palm outstretched as if he meant to shake Rookie’s hand. Confused, Rookie returned the gesture, only for Tobias to summarily slam the door shut. If Rookie hadn’t jumped back and jerked his hand away, the man might’ve crushed it between the door and the jamb.

Seriously, dude? 

Verdict drawn, Rookie did an abrupt about-face. Did the guy have a searing hot bod? Yep. Was his face nice to look at? Oh, yeah. Was he good at his job? Evidently. But the problem was that the dude appeared to be an S.O.B.

A miserable, mean-spirited S.O.B.

And while Rookie would tolerate a lot from people, broken metacarpals seemed like a bridge too far. So, giving the wood paneled door a baleful glance, he twisted and marched toward the exit.

Two: Impressing Head Honchos

Tobias’s first week at Farrell, Torres, Morrison, and Associates went fairly well. He opened twenty accounts, a personal record, and would maintain that pace like a goddamn beast. By powering down protein shakes, he was even able to bypass his lunch break in favor of staying to collect more clients, and when everyone else left for the day, Tobias stayed. He needed to prove to the powers that be in this place that he meant business.

Those head honchos fucking noticed, too. Of course, they did. One thing Tobias perpetually prided himself on was his work ethic. He’d learned it first as a junior hockey player, then as a member of the Canadian Royal Air Force. No one could press their noses to the grindstone harder than he could.

It was his thing.

Hanging around after hours again? Benjamin Torres, one of the three founding partners asked as he paused in Tobias’s entryway. Since the answer to his question was obvious, Tobias didn’t reply conventionally, choosing instead to offer up a reason.

Lots to do.

Tobias attempted to keep his facial expression pleasant when he said this. He’d been told on numerous occasions that he had RAF or Resting Asshole Face. Still, he wanted to cringe when he lifted his cheeks. He’d never mastered the art of smiling, or of conversation either, really. But the niceties must be observed with those who’d helped you.

He felt relatively certain that this investment firm had hired him because he came with an abundantly healthy portfolio along with plenty of hustle. The terms of his work visa required him to be employed for the space of one year before he could go out on his own. Those were the rules.

And one thing Tobias always tried to do was follow the rules.

Benjamin chuckled. Yeah, I can relate. There was a time when I burned the candle at both ends, too. Years of it, in fact. He rubbed at his eyes as if tuckered out, but Tobias didn’t ask about it. Other people’s lives weren’t his concern. As it turned out, requesting the information became unnecessary because his boss divulged it anyway. With a yawn, no less. Sorry, my twins are teething, and Kat and I haven’t been getting much sleep. It’s like they’re newborns all over again.

The man chuckled again, and Tobias felt like he was supposed to say something to this. Or perhaps to do something. He just didn’t know what. Social graces had never been his forte.

Well, Benjamin went on. You’ve had a kickass first week, so you must be doing something right. I’ll leave you to it.

His boss disappeared, and Tobias studied the spreadsheet he used to keep track of all his clients. Names with their applied data filled the entire screen, proof that he’d been crushing it. He peered at the cell phone sitting face down on his desk and flipped it over. He hadn’t contacted his folks since his arrival here ten days ago, and it seemed wise to check-in.

It would be two hours earlier in his family’s hometown of Blairmont, a community of twelve hundred people about a half hour from Edmonton, Alberta. Tobias dialed the number by hand, finding it weird to have to plug in the extra digits for an out-of-country call. It felt weird and yet refreshing to be outside of Canada.

Ellis Residence, Regina speaking, his mother answered their landline phone just like always.

Hey, Ma.

Ooh, Ulysses, it’s Tobias calling from the USA.

Wow, she sounded almost excited to hear from him. A rarity.

Ask him if he... Tobias couldn’t