When the Night Falls: Mr. Gibson Edition
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My eyes widened when I heard the deep voice behind me, and I stopped.
Mr. Jefferson was standing there.
Our eyes met, and I gulped... I was nervous knowing he watched me, but it excited me. I felt my cock twitch in my pants.
I'd caught his attention, and now he had mine.
Did you love When The Night Falls? Then, explore this reimagining in which Theodore Jefferson becomes ensnared, not with Jasmine but with his nanny, Jason.
A chef on the edge, Jason is forced to accept a strange new job nannying the daughter of the elusive billionaire Theodore Jefferson. From the moment they meet, the rigid and secretive Mr. Jefferson sends a passionate thrill through Jason. But could the ferocious boardroom fiend really want him, too?
Age Rating: 18+
1: Chapter 1
âThis is an LGBTQ re-imagining of Book 1 of âWhen The Night Fallsâ and is not canon in the âWhen The Night Fallsâ universe. The Theodore in this book is not the same man from the main universe.â
***
JASON
Theodore Jefferson.
Every man wanted to be him.
Every woman wanted to sleep with him. Hell, a lot of men wanted to sleep with him, too.
He was the most powerful man in the USâit wasnât even close.
Over the course of his career, heâd made billions of dollars, but his business interests remained shrouded in secrecy.
His wealth, though, was nothing compared to his body.
He had the sort of physique that would make Greek gods blush.
It was printed on magazine covers from Berlin to San Francisco.
But his sexiness went beyond his looks.
He was a mysteryâan enigma.
Nobody was quite sure where he lived.
Whether he was married, if he had kids, if he was even into women.
Any paparazzi who got too close disappeared suddenly.
What mysteries hid behind those steely, dangerous eyes?
âJason, open up! Now!â
The pounding on my door made me jump. I threw aside the copy of Time magazine with Theodore Jeffersonâs face splashed across the front cover.
I groaned. I knew the voice of the person pounding on my door. The devil himself was here.
I gathered up my strength and opened the door of my apartment. Giving my landlord a tight smile, I plopped down on the beanbag chair, knowing he wasnât going to leave anytime soon.
âYou might as well have a seat. No need to act like a guest.â
He sat on the sofa facing me. âWhen are you going to pay me?â
So much for pleasantries.
âAlex, you already know about my situation. I lost my job, and money is tight. I donât have a penny in my bank account,â I said, frowning.
Never in my life had I imagined I would see days like this.
Iâd worked as a chef for great pay, but my asshole of a head manager had threatened to fire me if I didnât sleep with him. Even if he was in the closet, nothing made it okay for him to treat people that way. I flinched, remembering his cruelty and how sorry Iâd felt for his innocent wifeâshe didnât have a clue.
Before he could fire me, I resigned, which had inflamed his male ego. Out of cruelty, heâd made sure that I didnât get another job.
âYou're already three months late. I don't care if you have a job or not, I just want my money. If you don't pay by the end of next month, you're out.â
Sighing, I nodded glumly. He stood up and stormed out of my apartment.
I groaned as I thought about the bills I needed to pay. I didnât have enough money to pay them all.
My empty fridge urgently needed to be filled. Iâd become addicted to those instant noodles, since they were the only thing I could afford. Why hadnât I saved money all those months I was working?
Because you just had to buy all those clothes.
There was nothing left to do but cry.
My phone started ringing somewhere in the mess of my apartment. I searched around and managed to locate it and answer before it stopped ringing.
âHello?â Who was calling me at this hour?
âHello, Mr. Gibson. My name is Iris White. The reason Iâm contacting you is because we have a job, which I believe is something you may be in dire need of,â the lady on the other end said.
I pulled the phone away from my ear and checked the caller ID. It didnât look like a spam call.
âOkay⊠What kind of job is it?â I asked her. I didnât remember applying for any positions recently.
âMr. Gibson, if you are free, can we meet? Iâd prefer to explain the details in person.â
âSure, I guess. Send me the location.â
As soon as I ended the call, I received a message from the mysterious lady. If Iâd been in a better place, I wouldâve forgotten about the call as soon as I ended it. I would never have gone to meet a random woman whoâd called me out of the blue.
But I was in a desperate financial situation.
I washed my face and changed into a white button-down shirt that I tucked into my denim jeans. I ran a hand through my short red hair, and after putting on my comfortable sneakers, I walked out of my apartment.
Luckily, the address the mystery woman had given me wasnât that far from where I lived, so I had enough gas in my car to get there and back.
When I reached the place, I opened the impressive-looking front door and entered a small waiting area. I messaged the ladyâIrisâand took a seat.
I gazed around the waiting room, as there wasnât much else to do, and noticed an ornate TJ carved into the wall behind the reception desk. It looked like some sort of logo.
What kind of mysterious organization was this? Iâd never seen a company logo that looked like that.
Before long, a slender lady dressed in classy clothes walked toward me. I was impressed by the way she was dressed. She looked sophisticated compared to my jeans-and-sneakers casual look.
I stood up as she stretched out her hand, and we shook.
âIâm Iris. Iâm glad that you came,â she said, glancing over my clothes. She nodded her head, seeming to approve.
âWell, I had to come, since Iâm badly in need of a job.â
She laughed softly at that.
âI know everything about you, Mr. Gibson. The reason I chose you for this job is because of your previous work.â
She sat and crossed her legs, sitting up straight as she spoke to me.
Something about this lady intrigued me.
âFirst of all, what kind of job is this?â I really wanted to know what I was getting myself into.
âChildcare.â
I looked at her as if sheâd lost her mind.
âSorry to say this, but I think youâve mistaken me for someone else,â I said, starting to think it was time to leave.
She smiled at me softly, which was actually kind of sinister.
âYou were a chef. You left the job because of your manager. Twenty-one years old, never married. Bills to pay and a negative bank balance. Did I get all that right?â
My mouth dropped open, and anger flared in me. How dare she investigate my personal matters?
âLook, Ms.⊠Iris, I may not have a job right now, and there may be bills to pay, but I will get the job I need,â I replied.
âI am not interested, or qualified, to babysit anyone,â I continued. âOh, and by the way, itâs illegal to stalk someone,â I finished indignantly, standing up to go.
âOne million dollars if you say yes.â
My mouth dropped open again, and I gave the lady a hard look.
âWhat? Are you kidding me? A million dollars for babysitting? Have you lost your mind, or are you trying to make a fool out of me?â
Iris raised an eyebrow and gave me a mysterious smirk, as if she was really enjoying this.
âMr. Gibson, Iâm not trying to make a fool of you. The âbabysitting,â as you called it, includes taking care of the babyâs diet and a few other things.â
âLike?â
âIf you are ready to accept the job, Iâll tell you about the other things.â
I thought about it. Iâd never seen a million dollars in my whole life. I wouldnât have to work for asshole managers or put up with threatening landlords anymore if I had that kind of money. I could start my own business.
âOkay,â I agreed, and she pulled a file from her bag and placed it in front of me.
âThis is the contract, which states that you will take care of the baby starting tomorrow, for at least one year.
âYou need to move immediately to where the baby is. You must cut all ties and go without anyone knowing where you are. Your phone is not allowed. You will be provided with a new one.â
âButâŠcanât I stay in my own place? I can drive to the kidâs home every day.â
âNo, Mr. Gibson. Itâs a confidential matter so I canât give you more details at this time, but we donât want you to travel.â
I went through the contract and read the conditions.
âOkay. Where do I need to sign?â I signed the papers before standing up.
âOur driver will be at your place tomorrow morning to escort you to your new home. Pack everything you need tonight.â
I excused myself and drove home to start packing.
I didnât really need to cut ties with anyone; there was nobody I was that close with. Iâd had a few friends at work, but theyâd faded away once Iâd left. Iâd dated, like, four guys, but those relationships had only lasted for a few weeks at most.
Half the guys my age that I knew were getting married, and the other half was fucking and sucking their way through the entire catalogue of Grindr. Here Iâd never had a real boyfriend. Iâd never even had sex.
I watched porn videos when I was in the mood, and I owned a few sex toys, but Iâd always been too shy to use them, which sucked.
The lame kisses from a few lame boys on Tinder had been nothing compared to the kisses Iâd read about in novels. I was a huge sucker for those erotic and BDSM novels.
I paused in my packing, and my eyes flicked down to the discarded magazine on the floor.
Theodore Jeffersonâs chiseled face glared up at me. I couldnât help but shiver.
I was going through my clothes and other belongings when I heard a loud knock at my door, which made me jump.
âIâll have money soon! I just got a job!â I shouted.
When I got no response, I walked over to the door to tell Alex to go away.
When I wrenched it open, to my surprise, it wasnât my landlord standing on my doorstep.
It was Iris. Two muscular men with sunglasses and black suits stood behind her, scowling.
âHey, IrisâŠâ
âI hope Iâm not disturbing you, Mr. Gibson. I forgot to tell you a few other things. I thought I might inform you now, if you are free,â Iris said.
âNo, no⊠I was just packing my bags. Iâm free to speak.â
âGood. Be sure to bring everything thatâs important to you. You wonât be coming back to this apartment.â
I pressed my lips together tightly as I listened to Iris.
âHmm. So, Iris, I wonât be able to visit my apartment if I want to? I mean, I might want to come back here on my days off,â I said.
âI understand, Mr. Gibson, and I apologize, but you did sign the contract. Iâm not free to elaborate at this time, but you wonât be able to return here. I hope you understand how important it is to bring anything youâll want with you.â
âHmm⊠Okay, Iris.â
I thought she was going to leave, along with her scary goons. But she didnât.
âOh, and Mr. Gibson, please donât take anything other than your clothes, important documents, and personal belongings. Everything you need will be provided at the house. You donât have to worry about anything.â
Feeling a little uneasy, I nodded.
I tried to close the door, but one of the muscles-for-days bodyguards held it open with his very strong-looking arm.
âWhat now?â I asked nervously, looking from him to Iris.
Iris smirked at me before she stepped over the threshold and into my apartment.
âIâm afraid thereâs been a change of plan. Youâre going to come with us. Now.â
