I'm so sorry for the long hiatus. Thank you to anyone still reading, and I hope you enjoy it!
---
It was a long half an hour later that Aspen managed to push Ruby out the door as she coached him on what to say at the wedding ("Remember, dear, we'll just call you my date and leave it at that, no need to go into the details, hmm?") and reminded him to comb his hair the way she liked. He only half listened, spending her entire visit taut with nerves, but she didn't seem to notice at all.
How did I ever put up with her?
Aspen thought distantly.
When he'd locked the door behind her after agreeing to be ready to go bright and early in two day's time, he made his way over to sit at the kitchen table where so lately he had been spread beneath Cary, let him have free reign of his body and--
Aspen dropped his head into his hands. What was going on with him? What was going on with Cary? Aspen felt muddled, stupefied by the mere thought of the golden man whose presence immediately warmed his blood. Aspen didn't think he could keep away from that, didn't think he wanted to. And yet...
He had never been with a man before. Never even thought about it and that was the honest truth. He sighed and wondered if he was being naive to think - to feel like - like Cary was more than a dangerous attraction. He didn't want to lose his head completely, but he had the sinking feeling he might be too late already. The feel of Cary's skin under his fingertips, that smile, those golden eyes... He felt stupid even thinking it, but it felt
right
.
Don't get ahead of yourself, Aspen,
he remonstrated himself.
It's just..something physical.
Biological maybe, because it felt like some part of him was programmed to respond to the man's golden hue, his scent, his touch, God, his
taste...
"Stop it," Aspen said aloud to the empty room. He sighed and stood to grab the giant binder of information Cary had left for him to go over. At least it would take his mind off of the man himself.
--
It was nearly six hours later when Aspen, bleary eyed and thrumming with information, put the binder down. He'd taken a break long enough to fix dinner and shower, then had moved into his bed but continued reading, a ridge between his brows.
The binder was very organized, almost compulsively so - it had a title page and a table of contents and even an appendix at the back. Kind of silly, he thought. He wondered if Cary's secretary or someone had put it together; he pictured some starry eyed girl desperate for even one golden glance of approval and then winced. He wasn't far off from that himself.
Cary's number had been on the first page. He dialed it as he bit his lip, firmly reminding himself not to sound like a pathetic--
"Marsters," came Cary's deep voice. For a moment Aspen couldn't speak: he was thinking of the way that voice had sounded earlier, husky with lust, transforming his name into something almost reverent..."Hello? Anyone there?"
"Why didn't you tell me all the evidence points to you being at the head of a major EPA violation?" Aspen blurted out.
"Oh," Cary sounded amused. "Aspen. You're a fast reader."
"Well?" Aspen demanded, half embarrassed at his own lack of tact. He had planned to phrase that a little more carefully, but as usual the man had thrown him off balance.
"What are you wearing?" Cary returned.
"Oh, come on! You're the one who said this was so important, and you're the one, if I'm reading the material correctly, with his job and reputation on the line. Tell me."
"I was getting to it," Cary said mildly. He lowered his voice. "Bet you're naked."
Aspen flushed. It actually was true, he hadn't bothered dressing after his shower - the perks of living alone - and was laying bare on his belly amid the sheets on his bed. His cock pulsed underneath him. He said nothing.
"Okay, okay," Cary sighed. "Aspen, do you really think I'd ask you to look this stuff over if I were guilty? I didn't want to say anything earlier to influence your thinking. But I think it's pretty clear that I was hired to be a fall guy. And I want to know why."
"All I see," Aspen said measuredly, "are a number of documents of corporate policy and strategy with more than a dozen clear violations of the EPA. And all of them have your signature. Or are you saying they're all forgeries?"
"No." Cary sounded suddenly tired. "It's my signature all right. I have copies made of everything I sign, of course. All those documents exist. It's just that there have been subtle changes - a sentence here, a paragraph there - to include policies I'd never agree to, never. They - whoever - kept the final page with my signature as is and must have replaced the rest of the pages. I swear it, Aspen."
He sounded so serious, more so than he had thus far, and Aspen was inclined to believe him, if only because he thought the man seemed smart enough that he wouldn't willingly affix his name to such clearly damning documents. But he wasn't going to let onto that quite yet. Let Cary squirm. His eyes crinkled at the thought.
"And where are these original documents?" He asked instead.
"I have them, at home where they're safe. And I put copies in the appendix."
"You...made that appendix?" Aspen had a sudden image of Cary copying and hole punching and shook his head. "Never mind. So these are the documents Ryder is publicly presenting? These ones that blatantly say that the company is illegally disposing of pesticides, for example?" Aspen couldn't imagine why anyone would do that.
"You'll find some of them posted on our website, not that anyone reads through that crap," Cary said bitterly. "The thing is, Aspen, the thing that makes it so strange - I oversee pretty much all the big movements within the corporation. And I happen to know most of these violations cannot be happening. Like you said about the disposal of chemical waste - I've talked to the company, hell, the driver himself who picks up the hazardous material every week according to the real policy."
"Couldn't he be in on it, too?" Aspen pointed out. "Not that I believe you yet," he added hastily. He heard Cary sigh deeply.
"He could," he said. "But that would make this a pretty intricate conspiracy. What's the motivation? I don't know, Aspen."
"Can we go to a plant to see for ourselves?" Aspen was asking before he thought about it. Then again, that was, after all, how he'd stumbled into the last cover up. Perhaps it wasn't a bad idea.
"The production facilities aren't local - they're in Indianapolis," Cary said.
"Oh, right," Aspen started, but Cary cut him off.
"I can have plane tickets ready to go for tomorrow morning."
