Topher Lydon
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There was a saying in Toronto, that there were two seasons: Hockey season and two months of bad skating. In a nation built upon the great Canadian game it was the religion that saw the great pilgrimage up the 401 every Saturday night to the Air Canada Centre arena that was the eventual Mecca of every red blooded Canadian. Tonight was a game night, and you just weren't a man if your pulse wasn't racing as you wound along the off ramp and the Air Canada Centre finally came into sight. It h
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It wasn't called the black tower without reason, the tallest tower out of the collection of skyscrapers that dominated the down town core of Toronto, a collection of stricken fingers grasping at the heavens. It stood in stark contrast to the others in that its surface was mirrored black, the pale glow of its internal lights did not penetrate its skin to blemish it. A monument to the security and the sanctity of that construct. It had been built with a dual purpose, to provide security for the cu
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Lisa Sternosti marched through the same door first thing on Monday morning, Avery detected the self-satisfied smile playing across her face, and the all encompassing sinking feeling began to form in the pit of his stomach. "I just got a call from downstairs, John Jennings is on the way up." Avery's smile was forced, "Excellent, on schedule as well." "You knew?" "I guessed." Avery drew out his watch, "3...2...1..." The doors parted and John Jennings marched briskly
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It wasn't a long drive, he thought as he worked his way down through lower Scarborough towards the lakeshore and his inevitable destination at the Scarborough Bluffs. It was a place full of ragged turns and pretty little houses in that last bastion of Toronto just before it became Oshawa. He was glad to get out of the main city; it was a place he always found smoky and cruel. He could feel his skin crawl whenever he was there. It was the sense of humanity doing what humanity did best; cr
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He hated it when he slept poorly. Marching across the floor to his office, he snarled at Jacynthe as he passed the reception desk, a mug of Tim Horten's coffee, as yet untouched, in his hands. His staff were used to his bad moods; if anything, it endeared them closer to him, made him more human to them, one of them, with the ups and downs that went along with real life. By all rights, after the day he had yesterday, he should have slept well. But instead he had just laid there staring up
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The Fairview Mall was really an afterthought to the city of Toronto. It housed everything the Eaton Centre did downtown, yet was located just far enough out of the way to be a fraction cheaper. That and you didn't have to refinance your house just to park there for an hour. It had a pleasant atmosphere, with comfortable sofas instead of benches, a number of coffee shops, almost as if the management wanted to create that friendly living room feeling. Except your living room had an average of a th
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The restaurant was packed when they walked in and it took Will only a moment to see why: the all-you-can-eat buffet was in full swing as businessmen piled plates high with overcooked pasta and yesterday's left-overs. It looked utterly unappetizing, and he wondered at why Marc had chosen this place until he saw the young man staring over at the buffet with wide appreciative eyes. Well, that answered that. "Afternoon, gentlemen," the hostess greeted them. "Table for two?" Will nodd
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He was glad to be free of the tie, slumped as he was in his chair responding to emails. He was utterly exhausted; the meeting had run on longer than anyone had expected, and by the time he had finally made it back to the relative sanctity of his office there wasn't much left to the day. He rubbed his temples in a vain attempt to ward off the headache that had set in somewhere in the fourth hour of presentations. It also didn't help that he had been sick the day before. He made a mental note that
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What was he doing there? He should have just done with it and moved on. But he sat at the end of the bar stubbing a cigarette butt into the ashtray and watching the door. The bartender didn't even ask, only walked up and replaced his empty rye and coke with a fresh one. Marc looked down at it, then up at the bartender, a large Asian man with a hearty smile who shrugged at him. "I took a guess," he said as he began to cut up a lemon. "Vancouver, right?" Marc frowned at him, "What?
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The couch was a wonderful invention, who ever conceived of taking a bed and turning it into one big comfy chair deserved the endless gratitude of men everywhere. For Will, his sense of gratitude at that moment was shared with the great brewer, Alexander Keith. He lay sprawled across the couch staring listlessly at the Leafs as they effortlessly outplayed the LA Kings. No surprise there. Brody occupied the large chair, legs sprawled over an arm, remote safely tucked into his pocket so Wil
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Alone in his silent study, Robert Avery stood staring out across the well-cared-for estates of the large house that was his home. The thick glass of the tall window was slick beneath his touch, yet he ignored the condensation as he watched the stabbing forks of lightning that rent open the sky. The flashes illuminated the gardens and, for a moment at least, banished the shadows that lurked there. Safe away from the hammering rain, he felt oddly attuned to the great force of nature that shook the
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The rain was hammering down; Marc looked at it as he came out of the shower toweling off his hair, feeling so much better for being clean. He'd had a great lunch, enjoyed the time he had spent with Will; it was exhilarating meeting someone who didn't judge, and didn't seem to care who he was. Even if he was a bit too prim and proper. Marc slipped on a pair of boxer shorts, hopping a little to get into them as he ducked into the small kitchenette, poking about in the cupboards for somethi
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He'd taken a combination of Dayquil, Neo-citron and enough Tylenol cold and flu tablets to make him rattle each and every time he took a step. He felt like death reheated, which was to say he felt like complete crap. The pharmacists at Union Station had looked at him strangely when he had stumbled up to the counter with his arm full of anti-cold medication. There may not have been a cure for the flu, but dammit, he was going to drug himself so powerfully that he wouldn't feel a thing.
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Will had given up, the bar was too quiet for him, and he was feeling old. It was a goth bar, a place he had never complete fit into, but his friends seemed to like hanging there. He often found himself resting on the end of the bar sipping something non-alcoholic and watching all the young and pretty goths flit to and fro about him. All the while he wondered what possessed them to get dressed up in black and make the trip every Tuesday night. He had stood, watching his roommate and best
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He fidgeted with the tie and no matter how many times it was tied and retied it still felt uncomfortable. How could someone who wore a tie every day to work suddenly be incapable of tying one? He adjusted it once again and started from scratch as Alicia slipped into the office behind him. "You're looking smart, boss," she said as she walked round to face him and took over tying the tie; in one fluid motion she had the accursed thing tied, tightened and straight. He glanced down at it and
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The snow drifted down around him; it was late for snowfall, but he ignored it shifting the heavy layers of clothing to ward out the cold. He trudged, there was no better word for it, and he placed one foot in front of the other without thought as to where his destination was to be. Why think about something he didn't care about. He went where he went, and never looked behind him. There were shadows there, things he wanted never to think about again, a collection of horrors that drowned a
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Bruce Weippert hung up the phone with a tense smile as he adjusted his tie, and just like that his acquisition of Rena Allison's stock was completed. It had been a simple negotiation, financial shuffling. He had used the company's accounts to co-sign his purchase. Gavin Jefferies, Avery-Woods' financial officer, was sitting nervously watching him. "I don't like this, Bruce," he said, licking his lips. Weippert sighed as he rested his hands on the arms of his chair, "It's too late
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In the mire of corporate politics, Will Carter is the only honest man left standing. Trying to work out a way to save his company for opportunists. While a runaway, struggles to come back to the closet thing he ever knew to a home. Meeting a bookish, overworked and over stressed man in a grey shirt, who needs to learn how to relax.
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There are some debts that no matter how hard you try you can never repay. The fact William Carter was there, sitting tapping a pencil against his desk staring down over the city of Toronto, was a testament to a debt he could never hope to repay. It bothered him, that no matter what he did, no matter how many times he said "thanks," it just never seemed to be enough. It was a personal thing, he knew that, and Robert Avery would have been happy with just that, but Will honestly felt there
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Chapter Twenty-One Andrew leaned around as they felt the plane begin its descent into Gatwick Airport, looking at Brody, who was sitting awake now, listening with interest to Will telling the story of the wedding. "Dude's my friend," he said, nodding to Will in explanation. "A brother's gotta do something." "Thanks," Andrew said, not quite certain what had been done. Will smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Ever play Mouse Trap?" It was the greatest show
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The drive to work the next day allowed him an opportunity to reflect as he wound his way directly towards his office. Andrew hadn't come home after the wedding and Will had collected the keys to his Jeep from the valet and had driven home alone at the end of the reception. After the madness of the last few days, returning to the normal routine did not appeal to him. But life went on, and so did he. Jeff and Lisa were probably in Niagara for their honeymoon, Lisa's father's wedding gift to t
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Chapter Twenty-Three The plane had landed, and the three friends had disembarked into the airport. And Will realized with a start that for the first time in nearly eight years he was home. They were still in the terminal, but it was England. He was home. He stood with his shoulders slumped staring out of a window at the rain-soaked world beyond. So many years of living abroad, so much time, so much of his life had just slipped by him that to actually be there again was surreal. "T
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Laurier House was filled with the wedding guests. It was beautifully decorated in white fabrics and roses; a string quartet performed a beautiful selection of pieces at one end and a large buffet on trestle tables stood at the other. Voices and music coming from beyond the open French doors told of the other guests, and the other entertainment that was taking place on the patio terraces that lay nestled in the gardens. Guests mingled with each other throughout the old house and Will adjusted his
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Andrew rested his forehead on his hand, "I'm sorry Will, nothing happened I swear to you." He gave Will a look filled with pain and hope, "you have to believe that." "I do." Will replied, his voice hoarse. "it just... at the time I didn't know what to think." "I'm sorry," Andrew pressed, "we were up all night talking. She knew I was gay, I told her... in fact we were talking about you most of the night. I just needed to talk to someone about what was going on." Will shrugged, "It'
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When Brody finally pulled up in Jared's Cherokee and laid on the horn, the friends were finally ready to go. Will had lent the keys of his Jeep to Andrew, and Jeff's parents were going to follow behind the Jeep in their rented minivan. A motorcade to the church, which wasn't that far away. There was just so much preparation behind such a simple event that Will was glad he didn't have to go through it again for awhile, unless Kerry got it into her head to drag Jared down the aisle. She was t
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