Flux - 30. Chapter 30

July 19, 2002

London

Matt

Our time in London had been like one long dream. We’d recovered from jet lag fast enough, but unlike other vacations I’d been on, instead of rushing around the city to see all the touristy sites, we’d all been much more relaxed. Sometimes we’d take in a museum in the morning, then relax in the afternoon and just stroll around, while other times we’d reverse the order. Each day we did something cultural, saw at least one of this city’s amazing sites, but we didn’t burn ourselves out. The end result was that I was really enjoying myself, and I felt completely relaxed. When I’d travelled with my parents, we’d crammed as much in as possible, and I’d ended up exhausted.

Even better than that was the way we all got along so well with each other. In our ‘off time,’ usually Wade and I would wander on our own, while Will and Zach would go off and do their thing. JP joined us for our ‘cultural event’, and then escaped to do his research. Ironically enough, the person who seemed the most different was Wade. He maintained his stoic reserve with everyone else, but with me he was open and engaging. I couldn’t remember a time in my life when I’d been happier, both with him and in general.

We were staying at the Savoy, where JP had booked the Royal Suite, along with an adjacent junior suite for Will and Zach. Presumably he wanted to keep closer tabs on them. We had our own suite close to his. He’d engaged a gentleman to be our personal chef and butler, to take care of our meals and other arrangements, so we didn’t have much to worry about. He was an older man named Evans, and was so efficient even Wade trusted him to take care of all the details. I walked over to the Royal Suite and used my key card for entry; JP had gotten Wade and me keys to his suite so we could have access to it. It was pretty spectacular. It occupied the entire front of the 5th floor, giving us some amazing views of the River Thames. Just looking out the windows, we could see from Canary Wharf to the Houses of Parliament and beyond, with seven of London’s bridges visible. I walked into the marble foyer, glancing into the wood-paneled office where JP’s papers were neatly arranged on a desk. Through the foyer was a sitting room, furnished in antiques, and beyond that was the dining room table, where everyone was seated, and enjoying breakfast.

“Good morning,” I said cheerfully, greeting everyone. They responded briefly, since they were eating. Wade, with his insatiable appetite, had managed to get ready before me and had already started on his breakfast.

“What’s our plan for today?” Will asked JP as I took my seat.

“I will leave the morning to you,” he said, “but this afternoon, we have a meeting.”

“A meeting?” Wade asked.

“We are going to call on His Grace, the Duke of Suffolk,” JP informed us.

Zach’s eyes bulged a little bit. “Is he a member of the royal family?”

“No, he is an aristocrat, a member of the nobility,” JP explained. “They’re a notch below the royal family.”

“So he’s like a really wealthy guy, from a family that has a long history of wielding power in this country?” I asked.

“I am not familiar with his net worth, but presumably that is correct,” JP said in his stuffy way.

“He’s like a British version of Wade,” I joked, making everyone but Wade laugh.

“He is not,” JP said, and it was funny to see Wade almost look offended that he was being denigrated in comparison to this duke. “He is much older.” That made us all laugh again.

“How much older?” I asked, raising an eyebrow in a seductive way.

“I believe His Grace is in his early 70s. He has a son, the Marquess of Preston, who is in his 50s, and a grandson, the Earl of Bridgemont, who is in his 20s,” JP recited.

“Do we have to call him ‘your grace’?” Will asked.

“We do,” JP said. It was funny to see this table of Americans grumble at having to use titles and honorifics. “If we meet the Marquess or the Earl, we call them ‘my lord’.”

“I’m supposed to call a twenty year old dude ‘my lord’?” I asked, incredulous.

“If you do not want to be rude,” JP said acidly.

“If I do, will he tie me up,” I joked, annoying him, but making the others laugh.

“I do not think that is an appropriate topic of conversation with His Lordship,” JP said.

Will really laughed at that. “I wish Stef was here. He loves it when you use words like ‘appropriate’.” JP just scowled at him.

“Why are we meeting with His Grace?” Wade asked.

“We are meeting him at his townhouse, in Grosvenor Square,” JP said, misunderstanding Wade’s question, thinking he’d asked where we were meeting the Duke.

“No, why are we meeting him?” Wade asked.

“Ah,” JP said. “He has some correspondence that is quite old, and has agreed to let me review it. It has never been made available to historians before, so that makes it quite interesting.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“I believe it was only recently discovered,” JP said. “The Duke descends from a bastard line of the Stuarts, the branch of the Royal Family I am researching. Evidently, one of his ancestors, Sir Richard Lammert, bequeathed some letters from the Stuarts to the Duke’s ancestors.”

“This happened recently?” Wade asked.

“No. It happened quite some time ago. My understanding is that Sir Richard left the bulk of his estate to the younger sons of the First Duke of Suffolk, and only conveyed some small heirlooms and these letters to the subsequent Dukes. They were less than pleased at their inheritance, and sequestered the documents away. They were only recently discovered in a vault in their country home in Derbyshire.” JP gave us his playful grin. “It is the dynastic version of pouting.” He was so funny.

“Why is he making these letters available to you?” Will asked.

“You do not think I am an esteemed scholar, such that he would trust me with these documents?” JP asked, pretending to be offended when he was joking.

“I assume there are other, albeit slightly less distinguished scholars, here in England,” Will replied, adopting JP’s pompous tone, and making us laugh again.

“Those scholars do indeed exist, but they were not willing to donate 100,000 pounds to have the letters restored and preserved, while this scholar was,” JP said.

“You bribed him,” Will accused.

“If you use the basest of terms,” JP agreed. I’d found that with these guys, I spent most of my time laughing, so it was no wonder this breakfast was no different.

“I thought the Duke was a wealthy man,” Wade said, more of a question. “If that’s the case, why does he need you to pay for the preservation and restoration of these letters?”

“I can only share with you what I have heard, mostly through idle gossip, so you must treat it as unreliable,” JP said, to preface whatever he was going to share with us.

“Knowing you that means it’s probably pretty accurate,” Will said. JP gave him an appreciative look.

“A degree of caution is in order, nonetheless,” JP noted. “The Duke of Suffolk has extensive real estate holdings, and a fabulous art collection, among other things. Unfortunately, he has little liquid capital.”

“You mean they’re broke?” I asked.

“They are not broke, they just do not have a lot of cash,” he corrected. “It means that they must carefully husband the resources that they do have.”

“How did they become poor?” Zach asked.

JP stared at him with a frustrated look. “They are not poor, they are cash poor, or at least that is what I was led to believe. Estate taxes in the United Kingdom have taken a toll on the grander estates, and while I’m sure the Dukes of Suffolk did what they could, that is what has most likely eroded their wealth. Taxes are due in cash, so that may explain why their funds are more limited.”

“So their basic job is to try and keep their dukedom from eroding away?” I asked. That sounded pretty depressing to me.

“I think you are being a bit melodramatic,” JP corrected. “I think when you meet His Grace; you will certainly not think he is poor.”

“So that’s not their job?” I asked again, since he seemed to be dodging the question. He was trying to stick up for these impoverished aristocrats, while I just wanted to know what their deal was.

“My understanding is that the Marquess, the Duke’s son, has made an effort to involve himself in real estate.”

“You make it sound like he hasn’t been all that successful,” Will said, more of a question.

“Again, I do not know for sure, but I would think he would be somewhat analogous to Chris Hendrickson, Kristen’s father,” JP said. Chris Hendrickson was the son of one of Claremont’s wealthiest families, at one time, and had dabbled in real estate development, but it had been mostly a cover as he’d squandered away his inheritance. Only recently, with Claremont’s redevelopment, had he had any appreciable success.

“That’s not good news for the Duke,” Will said.

“It is not,” JP agreed. “And it is rumored that the Marquess had done so poorly at it that he opted to move to South Africa.”

“He fled the country?” Zach asked, amazed.

JP sighed. “He did not flee the country, he just went abroad to seek his fortune.”

“Did he find it yet?” Will asked.

“I do not think so,” JP said. “The Duke’s grandson is supposedly taking a different path.”

“He is?” I asked.

JP nodded. “He is focusing on the family’s extensive art collections, and is training himself to deal with them. In fact, you may run into him in Boston,” he said to Wade.

“In Boston?” Wade asked.

“He is planning to take some graduate courses in art history at Harvard,” JP said. “I was somewhat helpful in his admission.”

“So that was part of the deal?” I asked. “You’d pay for the documents to be saved, and get this young dude into Harvard?”

He frowned at me. “I did not get him in; I merely wrote a letter of recommendation.”

“And made a phone call or two?” Will challenged.

“Perhaps,” JP said, frowning at Will now.

“You say this guy is known as the Earl of Bridgemont?” Wade asked.

“Yes.”

“When’s he starting at Harvard?”

“This fall,” JP said. “At least that’s my understanding. I was hoping that you may be amenable to helping him adapt to life in Boston.”

“Unless he’s an asshole,” I joked.

“He’ll probably make you bow every time you see him,” Zach said, giving Wade a bad time.

“Right,” Wade said, and it was hilarious to see his blue-blooded Virginian pride assert itself at the idea that he’d bow to another aristocrat. “What’s his name?”

“The Earl of Bridgemont,” Zach said, as if Wade didn’t hear.

“No, that’s his title. He has a name too,” Wade said to him, and then looked at JP.

“Alexander Granger,” JP said.

Wade looked at us and smiled. “Well here in England, he’s called ‘my lord’. When he lands in Boston, we’ll call him Alexander.” We laughed at that, even JP.

“What if he’s hot?” Will asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

“Then I’ll call him Alex,” Wade said.

“He’s got the same last name as Max. Maybe they’re related,” Will suggested.

“Dude, I wonder if he’s as hot as Max,” I joked.

“Then we’ll definitely call him Alex,” Wade joked.

July 19, 2002

Malibu, CA

Brad

I rode the wave, a fucking monster, enjoying its power, even as I was afraid of what it would do to me in just a few seconds when it crashed all around me. I opted to just enjoy the moment, to give into the pleasure of sliding down its face. I savored this hedonism, until I saw the wave crest above me, then saw it come cascading down on top of me. I was flung off my board, and felt the lanyard pulling at my leg as the water violently tried to tear it away, but that was the least of my concerns. I braced myself for its vengeance, for the price it would extract from me for enjoying it. It would pull me under, sucking me into its cold salty depths, until I could barely breathe, then it would release me. Only this time, for some bizarre reason, it didn’t. It knocked me on my ass, and then passed in relative peace, letting me remount my board. I decided to count myself lucky and go ahead and head to the beach. I’d been out here for a couple of hours already, and I was pretty sure there would be work waiting for me.

I lugged my board up to the surf closet, snaking through the people who’d come here on this Friday afternoon to enjoy the beach. I rinsed it off, and myself, then went up to the patio. “Good afternoon,” Stef said, greeting me.

“Hello,” I said pleasantly. “I didn’t think you’d be back this early.” He’d been out shopping. He’d come down with me on the 15^th, and we’d had a very relaxing few days. It reminded me of when he’d lived here, in that we’d work in the mornings, and then our afternoons were free for leisure. In my case that usually meant surfing; in his case, it usually meant shopping.

“I had some work to do on Matt’s apartment,” he said.

“What’s wrong?”

“He went to Hawaii, saw the room I made for Will, and decided that he needed something like that. He told me he had forgotten how much fun your love den was.”

“You could make this a side career,” I joked. “Designing sex rooms for gay men.”

“While it would certainly provide some satisfaction,” Stef said airily, “I am not sure it would pay as well as my current job.”

I laughed at that. “Maybe you’re not factoring in all the various forms of possible compensation.”

“Maybe I am not,” he said, laughing with me. “But in any event, Geoffrey has had to modify the floor plan, and he was not overly happy about it.”

“Designers can be bitchy,” I said, trotting out a platitude. “I thought JJ was going shopping with you?”

“He opted to go skating instead.” That made sense, since they’d spent a lot of time hitting shops since they’d come back from Claremont after the 4^th. “We have a party to go to tonight.”

“We do?” I didn’t know about any party.

“Cody called me. Jackie is throwing a soiree this evening, and as I am known to be in town, it would be rude for me to miss it.”

“That explains why you have to go,” I said, teasing him. “But not me.”

“For the same reason I must go so as not to be rude, so you must go with me,” he said. He was pretending to joke, but he wasn’t. I understood where he was coming from, and how he didn’t want to go alone.

“I’ll go with you,” I told him, something he already knew. “But it will be a little weird.”

“I understand,” he said. “If it becomes uncomfortable, we will leave early.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Have you seen Cody since you have been back here?” I frowned at him, because I didn’t want to talk about Cody, and because he knew damned well I hadn’t seen him.

“No.”

“While many of his things are still in his room, he does not appear to live here.”

“Rosa told me that he hasn’t been back for quite a while,” I said.

“It sounds like he is enjoying Alex,” Stef said, probing. “You are not happy for him?”

That got him an even bigger frown. “I’m happy for him, but it’s weird.”

“How is it weird?” It was at times like this, I could understand Will’s irritation when I asked him a bunch of questions about his personal life.

“Because Cody is a guy I really care about, and he’s with Alex. And Alex was with Robbie.”

“You think he is targeting the men you like and stealing them away?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, as he referred to Alex.

“I don’t think he’s doing that, it just seems that way to me. It’s one of those stupid things that shouldn’t bother me, but does.”

“Your instincts are telling you to be wary around him?” I was not enjoying this conversation.

“Yes,” I said.

“We are no longer involved in the company, so there is not much he can do to you,” he said.

“I’m not worried about what he’ll do to me,” I said. “I don’t know what I’m worried about.”

“Then perhaps you should not worry,” he suggested.

“You’re right,” I said. He was. Worrying wouldn’t do me any good, anyway.

“I think you should expend some effort to look exceptionally handsome tonight,” he said.

“I don’t have to expend effort,” I said, acting conceited, and making him chuckle. “Or was there some special reason for me to look good?”

“We have a dinner meeting to attend first, and then we will make an appearance at this party.”

“A dinner meeting?”

“Yes,” he said.

“One that requires me to look especially good?” I stared at him, telling him I wasn’t going anywhere unless he told me what we were doing.

“Most definitely,” he said. “We are meeting Kevin.”

“Kevin Carmichael?” I asked, and couldn’t stop myself from grinning. I’d met him a few years ago, when Robbie and I were having problems, and found out that he was actually my cousin. “He’s not fat is he?” I joked. Kevin was amazingly hot, and one of the best bottoms I’d ever fucked.

“I do not know, but I think that is unlikely,” Stef said.

“Why are we meeting with him?”

“After he graduated from Stanford, he worked in the fashion industry, but he has developed his own clothing line, and he wants me to back him,” Stef said.

“When did he contact you?”

Stef shrugged. “Last week.”

“And you’re only telling me this now?”

“He did not contact you, he contacted me,” Stef said. “He wants my money, not yours.”

“I’ll bet he’d take my money,” I said, making Stef chuckle. “Is he going to the party with us?”

“I had planned to invite him.”

“That could be weird,” I said. Kevin and Cody had been quite an item, until their careers had ultimately torn them apart.

“I think that if Cody can date Alex Danvers, we can show up at a party with Kevin,” Stef noted.

“That’s fair. After all, I met him first,” I joked. I’d met Kevin at a GLBT club party at Escorial. He’d been so incredibly hot; he’d looked completely out of place.

“Go get ready,” Stef prompted.

“Fine,” I grumbled, and went up to my room. This room used to be an emotional death trap for me, but not anymore. Now I found it familiar, and comforting. I put my hand on the keypad to the sex room Stef had made for us and heard the door click open. I pushed it open and saw the big picture of Robbie and I that was plastered across the wall when I walked in. A month ago that would have sent me into a tailspin, but now it just made me smile. He and I had made our peace with each other. He had been a good man, and a good partner. I was lucky to have had him in my life, and I was determined to cherish those memories. I pulled the door closed, took a shower, and then followed Stef’s advice and really worked on my appearance.

We went to a new restaurant, and it was pleasant to see that we were still influential enough in this city that we didn’t have to wait for a table. I guess money was power, I thought with a chuckle. We relaxed and had a drink while we waited for Kevin to show up. I was looking for him, while pretending not to, even though Stef knew exactly what I was doing. “There he is,” I said, and gestured toward the door. Kevin looked a little older, and a little more sophisticated, but that just made him more attractive, as if that were possible. His dark brown hair was a little longer than it had been, slightly hiding his green eyes, but in a sexy way. In Hollywood, hot guys were the norm, only Kevin seemed to look exceptional even in this crowd. He was a little shorter than me; maybe just under six feet tall, and he had managed to maintain his really slim figure. His shoulders were narrow, and his waist was so thin it still looked like I could wrap my hands around it. His clothes were really tight, in a way that wasn’t really fashionable unless you looked like Kevin, in which case everything was fashionable. He carried a stylish bag with him, one that looked like something an artist might carry, but was big enough to carry a laptop.

Kevin looked around, scanning the restaurant for us, so I stood up to attract his attention. His face erupted in a huge smile as he hurried over to our table. “I didn’t know you were going to be here!” he said enthusiastically. He gave me a big hug, and just holding him in my arms created a reaction in my body. Kevin was one of the sexiest men I’d ever met. He pulled back and raised an eyebrow, then gave me a really sexy kiss. Damn.

“Were you not here to see me?” Stef asked, pretending to pout.

“It is good to see you too,” he said in his perky way, and gave Stef as nice of a hug and a kiss on each cheek as he could while Stef remained seated.

“How long have you been in LA?” I asked, as he took a seat. The waiter came over and carded him, because he looked so young. I smirked at him.

“For a couple of months,” he said.

“I knew you’d gone to Paris,” I said. “I’ve spent some time in New York, and wondered if you’d ended up there.”

“I was in Paris, then in Milan, but I decided to come back to LA,” he said. Then he got somber. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it out for Robbie’s memorial.”

“That’s alright,” I said. Kevin had been one of the guys we’d been allowed to sleep with, even after we’d healed our wounds from our November 1999 nightmare, and Robbie had appreciated his sexual skills almost as much as I did.

“I could tell you that I had some important thing that kept me from coming, but that would be a lie. I don’t do well at things like that.”

“I understand,” I said, just wanting to move us beyond that topic. I wasn’t upset if people did or didn’t go to Robbie’s memorial; I got that it was a personal choice.

“How are you doing?” he asked me, concerned.

“I’m doing really well,” I said honestly. He studied me carefully, as if he didn’t believe me. He must have heard how fucked up I’d been from someone else. “It’s been rough, but this past month I’ve been able to put the horror behind me, and the grief, and now I’m moving forward.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” he said, his face beaming at me.

“So what’s this new business venture you’re trying to start?” I asked. “The one that you’ll only let Stef invest in and not me.”

“I thought you were a team?” Kevin asked, stirring up shit.

“So did I,” Stef said, pretending to be annoyed.

“Fine,” I said. “So what’s the deal?”

He pulled out a laptop and set it up on the table, so Stef and I could both see, and showed us some of his latest designs. “There is a definite hip-hop influence,” Stef noted. “But also a Bohemian flavor. This is truly unique.”

“Bohemian is giving way to the hipster movement,” he said. I looked at him, confused. I’d never heard of that. Stef didn’t say anything, but it looked like he hadn’t either. “They’re a bunch of tortured young people, trying to be individuals,” he joked.

“Sounds like most young people,” I said. They ignored me.

“Your designs are very unique,” Stef said approvingly. “I am impressed.”

“What are you calling your company?” I asked.

“Sergio,” he said, making me laugh. That had been the name he’d gone by in college. Everyone called him Sergio, but only the people he liked found out his name was really Kevin.

“I think that is perfect,” Stef said. Kevin went on to tell us about the interest he’d gotten, and how some stores in Beverly Hills had agreed to feature his clothing, but in order to do that, he needed help. He needed to start a company, not just a one-man shop.

“How much money do you need?” I asked.

“I think initially, I need $400,000,” he said. He pulled out some budgets, and a business plan and that reminded me that he wasn’t just a pretty face. He was a Stanford grad, with brains to match his appearance. “I got an offer for funding from a guy who likes me. He wants half the company for that.”

“You mean you slept with him, and he still wants half?” I teased. “You must have become a bum lay.”

“That’s not true at all,” he said, in his sultriest voice, shutting me up while sending my libido into overdrive.

“I will invest the $400,000, in exchange for twenty-five percent,” Stef said.

“I’ll put up the money for twenty percent,” I said, annoying Stef by outbidding him. “But I need some extra incentives.”

Kevin chuckled. “What did you have in mind?”

“We have to go to a party,” I said. “Come with us, then I’ll take you home and I’ll show you.”

“I did not think you were going to snake this deal away from me,” Stef said, pouting.

“I’ll give you the stock, and I’ll keep Kevin,” I teased, making them both laugh.

“Which party is this?”

“Jackie’s party,” I said. He knew Jackie, because he’d been with Cody, and she was Cody’s boss.

Stef sensed Kevin’s apprehension. “Cody will be there. Is that a problem for you?”

He shrugged. “No, we’re over.”

“He is with someone, or had you not heard,” Stef said. He loved to gossip.

“Alex Danvers?” Kevin asked. Clearly he had. Stef nodded. “That’s fine.”

“He traded down,” I said, to buck up his ego. “At least from what I can remember.”

“You’ve forgotten me that quickly?” Kevin asked coquettishly.

I laughed. “Nope. He definitely traded down.”

“You were with Alex too?” he asked.

“I was with him a few times,” I said, and felt myself tense up. “He and Robbie had a thing, and Alex and I hooked up too.”

“So am I going to this party as your date?” he asked me. I saw Stef trying not to grin at how sexy he was, and how well he was playing me.

“Yes,” I said assertively. “You are.”

He raised an eyebrow, and then smiled. “Good.”

We had a nice dinner, and then Kevin opted to meet us up there. I wasn’t sure why, but maybe he just wanted to have his own car with him, in case he needed to escape. I could understand that.

As the limousine drove toward Jackie’s house, I felt myself getting apprehensive.

“You are alright?” Stef asked, sensing my mood.

“I’m fine,” I said dismissively. He looked at me, damning that as a lie, and making me sigh. “I’m just a little on edge.”

“This is the first time you have been out and about in this crowd since the memorial,” Stef noted. “Do you remember the party I went to with you and Cody and Robbie, after Greg died?”

“The one where you found out Greg was sleeping with that guy?” I’d forgotten his name, but it was some young guy Greg had been boning behind Stef’s back.

“Yes,” he said. “You are perhaps worried that you will find out something similar?”

My initial reaction was to vehemently deny it. Robbie had been really open with me about his attraction to other men, and that’s why he was sleeping with Alex. I’d handled that thing with Alex pretty well, at least as far as Robbie could probably tell. I didn’t see that I’d given him any reason to keep a relationship hidden from me. But the most interesting thing was that as soon as Stef had raised it as an issue, and I’d sorted it through my brain, my apprehension had vanished. “I think I was, but now I’m not,” I said to him smiling.

“Good,” Stef said. “Besides, I learned a lot from that experience. I resolved to only remember the good things. By doing that, I made myself impervious to revelations like that one.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Revelations?”

“There were rumors that Greg had been with other young men,” he said.

“You never told me about that,” I accused, and felt myself getting angry at Greg all over again.

“I did not have proof,” he said. “And besides, what difference does it make? I am so much happier now than I have ever been. I do not mean to imply that I did not love Greg, but I do not miss him. If he magically appeared in front of me, I would not be with him.”

“The love you and JP share is truly timeless,” I said, making him smile.

“Perhaps you will find someone like that,” he said. My mind rebelled against that, against the thought that someone could come remotely close to replacing Robbie, that I could find someone that I’d actually prefer to him, but I fought that back.

“I don’t want to find someone like that right now. I’m enjoying being my own person.”

“I am glad,” he said, but without much conviction. “Kevin is quite taken with you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” I said. “But I don’t want to jump into another relationship right now.”

“Perhaps he can help keep your libido under control,” Stef teased.

“I’m hoping,” I said, making him chuckle. Our conversation was cut short as we pulled up in front of Jackie’s house, with its overly ornate portico.

“Who told her that ceramic lions in front of her house would look good?” I asked him acidly, making him chuckle.

“It is a warning, reminding you to brace yourself for the tackiness that is still to come,” he joked, making both of us laugh. We walked up the steps to her house in great moods. It was a good start.