Carter's Fortress - 7. Chapter 7

The Bay Street office tower was silent at that time of the night; most of the employees had long since gone home for the night. And as the thunder of the autumn storm continued to rumble, powerful men sheltered away from its fury stood discussing the new Minister of Heritage.

"Robert Avery is a shrewd man," Gravano said, seated behind his desk, his arms resting on the arms like he was seated in a throne. The young Italian Canadian stared up at John Hackett who was pacing the office before the desk, "Is he going to be a problem?"

Hackett shook his head, "He shouldn't be; Avery's a politician and like all other politicians he is concerned with one thing, re-election. No, the real problem will be his chief of staff."

"How so?" Gravano asked, looking up at his secretary and motioning impatiently for her to refill his cup of coffee. He had a dark scowl on his face, "I will not be pleased if I lose this contract, Mister Hackett; I've ... invested a lot of money in you for this."

"I know, Mister Gravano," Hackett said, glaring at the man. "Just remember you are not the only one who has something riding on this project. I assure you it's too late for Avery or his chief to do anything about it. They can't cancel this project without great embarrassment, it'll be political suicide."

"If I may," a smooth voice said from the back of the room, and the men turned to the lawyer who had stood quietly in the corner of the office listening to the conversation.

Andrew Highmore, wearing a black suit with a rich red silk tie as the only colour, stepped forward. The associate lawyer for Georgeson and Drake had a cold expression on his face, as he set his briefcase down on the edge of Gravano's desk and flipped it open, pulling out a set of contracts.

"When Mister Gravano signed the original proposal, there was a clause built in guaranteeing him the original sum should the government decide to cancel the project." Highmore flipped through the papers till he came to the appropriate section. "Even if the Heritage department were to cancel this project, Gravano construction will still recoup its losses." He turned to Hackett, "The government, however, will be out a sizable amount of money."

Gravano stared at the document and smiled up at his lawyer, "I knew there was a good reason I hired your company, Mister Highmore."

Highmore smiled tightly, "It was an extra clause I decided to add to the original contract of my own accord, Mister Gravano." Highmore closed the contracts and put them away in his briefcase, "I was taught a long time ago to cover any eventuality."

"You hear that, John?" Gravano said, staring at Hackett. "I actually have someone working for me that is prepared. I'd recommend that you be prepared, too; deal with this heritage aide and let's get back to our original plans."

Hackett's eyes narrowed; he didn't like being ordered about like a lackey, and his fists balled. "I'll deal with William Carter."

Unseen by the two other men, Highmore's eyes widened in surprise.

* * *

Will was standing in the shelter of the door way of Avery's constituency office staring out at the rain-swept streets of Toronto, the street lights blurring with the white lights of the store fronts as people hurried about trying to find some shelter from the storm.

He didn't flinch as a flicker of lightning and a loud boom reverberated around him. He loved the rain; for a few weeks a year it was like he was back home again. Sussex rain, with its warm edge that reminded him so much of his childhood.

Lisa came out to join him, "Robert wanted me to remind you that we are catching the ten o'clock plane back to Ottawa."

Will nodded, "Thanks, how's he doing?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, leaning on the doorframe beside him.

"In general, how do you think he's doing?" Will said, gesturing to the election poster on the door behind him, Robert's fatherly face smiling down at them in high gloss.

"He's got a firm handle on things." Lisa mused, taking a deep breath as a bus roared past them, "He already knows how to handle press conferences and his confidence really shows." She shrugged, "The real test is when he goes to Parliament for the first time and takes questions. The Heritage critic is supposedly a real bastard."

Will blinked at the use of the word and he chuckled; he sometimes forgot how young they really were. They'd both had to grow up so fast, through life, love, kids, and now careers. He smiled at her, "Well we just need to stay one step ahead of him, and insure Robert's prepared."

She shook her head at him;"You've come a long way from the timid little guy that used to write English papers and hide in a library."

Will looked at her a moment, and stepped out into the rain, grinning under the downpour, "I don't know, hiding comes in handy when I have to write speeches, not to mention all those Shakespeare plays Mister Greenwood had us reading back in English class." He pointed to the MacDonald's across the street, "Come on, you know you want to pollute your system with junk food."

She shook her head emphatically, "I have a two year old...I eat entirely too much MacDonald's. But if you're offering I could really go for pizza."

Will nodded and smiled, "One Hawaiian pizza slice coming right up..." He turned as a brand new black car rolled up to the curb.

He paused as the window slid down and a man leaned down to look at him, "What is it with you and being out in storms without a jacket?"

Will stuck his hands in his pockets as he offered a half smile. "I find it's a great way to pick up guys," he replied. "Problem is they always drive Mustangs..." He glanced at the brand new 2005 Mustang GT, so typically Andrew Highmore.

"It's the modern equivalent of a white horse," Andrew fired back. "Look, do you want to go for coffee?"

Will turned back to Lisa, "I was just going to get us a bite to eat..."

"Go," she said with a wave of her hand, "I'll catch something later."

Will nodded, "Tell Robert I'll meet you both at the airport at ten sharp."

Lisa smiled as she watched Will climb into the Mustang, a surprised, but happy smile on her face as they drove off.

Will felt damp, but didn't say anything as he looked over at the man who had been his first boyfriend.

Time had only accented his handsome features. A few lines around the eyes, a squaring of the jaw that made him more masculinily handsome than boyishly good-looking. It had been about two years since they had last seen each other face to face, and Will felt a pang of regret over that.

Andrew's striking blue eyes flicked off the road and over to Will, tightening a little. "You look good," he said sounding awkward, as if he wasn't quite sure of what to say.

"I look wet," Will replied. "Which, all things considered, is typically how I look when you offer to give me a ride."

Andrew laughed, "Well, you said you haven't eaten. Would you like to go somewhere and eat something?"

Will ran a hand through his wet hair and nodded, "That would be nice."

Andrew swung the Mustang down towards Church Street, and finding a parking lot, got out of the car. He brushed down the heavy cashmere great coat he was wearing and smiled at Will, "I know this nice restaurant just up the road."

Will cocked his head to one side, "Anything you say, Mister Big."

Andrew paused and looked down at himself: the expensive suit, the silk tie and the swept back hair. Everything matched and he looked like... "Thank you," he said with a frown, "I think."

Will smiled as he wrung out his own tie; bedraggled and self-consciously aware of it, he gestured up the road, "Are we going?"

Andrew turned up his collar against the wind and led the way up the busy street. Even a storm couldn't stop the life that was the heart of the gay village in Toronto. The two men walked along the street past the drag queens and the couples holding hands.

Will thought back to the first time he had come to Church Street, being dragged by Marc to experience life instead of letting it pass him by. Strange, he was walking up the street with Andrew, his first love, and all he could think about was a short guy with a lopsided smile and sparkling eyes.

Will looked at Andrew again, or rather the man that his Andrew had become. Self-confident and successful, he had a regal bearing about him. He took calm and purposeful strides, like he owned the street he was walking on. Nodding occasionally to people he passed, as much as he had changed, Andrew's self-confidence remained.

Andrew gave him another tight smile as he held open the door to the restaurant, walking up to the maitre de.

"Ahh, Mister Highmore, table for two?" the host stated, already lifting a pair of menus and ushering them past the long line of people glaring at them for being seated immediately.

Once they were seated Will glanced at Andrew, "Come here often?"

Andrew nodded, "Whenever I am in Toronto. Usually about once a month--my firm represents the owners."

"Sounds like a nice arrangement," Will replied, shaking his head at the waiter who offered him wine.

Andrew smiled, "So, you're a political aide now? Last I heard from you, you were in some trouble over at Avery-Woods."

Will smiled; Andrew had come through for him last year when Avery-Woods had fought off a hostile takeover. "I never got a chance to thank you for that," he replied with sincerity.

"Don't mention it," Andrew replied. "Contract Law is my specialty. So you're working up on the hill?"

Will nodded, "I'm Avery's chief of staff; it's a busy position, we're all over the place, but I'm enjoying it."

"I'm glad you found a career you enjoyed," Andrew said, pointing to something on the menu when the waiter returned.

Will glanced down and selected something simple, "We can't all be high-priced lawyers."

"Barrister," Andrew corrected. "Lawyers are American."

"My mistake," Will said with a smile. "High-priced barristers. How is it going?"

"I'm close to making partner," Andrew said, setting his hands on the table and absently playing with a bread roll. "It's been a lot of hard work, but it's beginning to pay off. Georgeson and Drake is one of the top firms in the country. I'm set to be their youngest partner."

"Good for you." Will met Andrew's eyes, puzzled by the sudden shift in Andrew's body language, "Is everything okay?"

Andrew blinked and looked up. "Everything's fine," he said with a smile. "It's good to see you again. I missed you."

Will felt his chest tighten, remembering the pain of losing Andrew, remembering how much they had been through together. The dreams they had shared the first night they had met, huddled in the backseat of the car, listening to the roar of the snowstorm outside.

"I miss you, too," Will said, his voice cracking with emotion. He paused, getting it back under control and looking at the rather overpriced meal that had been set down in front of him.

Andrew studied him a while, "I'm going to be back in Ottawa in a day or two... if you wanted to go out..."

Will opened his mouth, and closed it again, reminded of who was waiting for him back home. "I'm seeing someone," Will said after a long pause.

Andrew nodded, "I thought as much; good guy?"

Will smiled, "A great guy, his name's Marc, a photography student. We've been dating about a year now."

"Good for you," Andrew said, even though his eyes told a different story. There was a look of loss in them that Will recognized and knew all too well.

"But," Will said after a pause, "you're welcome by the house. In fact I think people would be glad to see you."

"Like you?" Andrew said with a raised eyebrow.

Will glanced up from his food. "Yes," he admitted quietly; funny how a single admission could weigh so heavily on the conscience.

Andrew rubbed his chin, "Brody still about?"

"And Lisa," Will said. "Not to mention a short blond kid of our mutual acquaintance who misses you terribly."

"How is Peter?" Andrew asked warmly.

"Trouble as usual," Will replied. "But when isn't he?"

"And your...boyfriend, won't mind?" Andrew asked.

"Marc..." Will sought the words to describe Marc to Andrew. "Let's just say Marc doesn't work by the same rules the rest of us do. I don't think he will have a problem with you stopping by."