The Freshmen - 4. Chapter 4

August 6, 2004

The Neil Simon Theater

New York, NY

JJ

“That play was amazing,” Kris said as we left the theater.

“It was really good,” I agreed. What was even better was how he’d held my hand through much of it. I tried not to let that remind me of Alex. The Maybach was stuck in traffic about 100 feet away, so we walked down and let ourselves in.

“Where to?” the driver asked. I suddenly found myself at the abyss. Did I ask him back to my place, or did I take him home?

“I should probably get home,” Kris said. Before I could object, he continued talking. “That way I can get my stuff together for tomorrow and meet you at your place.”

“That’s fine,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

“What time is this banquet?” he asked.

“It starts at 7:00,” I said. “What time do you want to come over?”

“Up to you,” he said nonchalantly.

“Why don’t you come over around noon and I can show you around,” I said. “We can grab lunch first.”

“I can do that,” he said.

“Give the driver your address so he can take you home,” I said, gesturing to the front of the limo. Kris leaned up and told the driver where he lived, then sat back as I put up the privacy screen. “I’ll have him pick you up tomorrow at 11:45.”

“Sounds good,” he said, then his tone changed to one that was pretty aggressive. “Come here.” He pulled me to him and into another spectacular lip-lock, one we didn’t break until we stopped in front of his place. It was a low-rise apartment building in Alphabet City.

“Alphabet City?” I asked, unable to hide my disdain. This was a known haven for drug addicts and criminals, and less than 20 years ago there had been a major riot in Tompkins Square.

Rather than get annoyed at me, he smiled at my apparent snobbery. “It used to be called ‘Little Germany’, although my ancestors never lived here. Then it was home to the Beatniks, then the punk rockers, but now it’s pretty gentrified.”

“Oh,” I said.

“I’m not saying it’s the best place to live in Manhattan,” he said, qualifying his comments. “But it’s cheap, especially if you have roommates.”

“You have roommates?” I asked curiously.

“A dude named Troy, and a chick named Cecily,” he said. “I’d invite you up but they’re slobs. We all pretty much stick to ourselves.”

“Sounds kind of lonely,” I said, which was a weird comment coming from me.

“Sometimes it is,” he agreed a little ruefully, then shot his gorgeous smile at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I know,” I said, winking at him. He gave me one last kiss, then exited the car.

The phone buzzed and I answered it. “Home?” the driver asked.

“Home,” I confirmed. “I need you to pick him up here tomorrow at 11:45.”

“I can do that,” he said.

I was smiling euphorically when I went into my bedroom and locked the door behind me, totally relieved that Susannah wasn’t staked out in my bed. I stripped down to my underwear, took my evening pills, and started to drift off to sleep, imagining how awesome it would be if Kris was here to cuddle with. Then my eyes shot open in alarm. Why wasn’t he here? I mean, from what Will said, he pretty much hung out at gay bars, picked up a dude and fucked him. Yet with me, he hadn’t even tried to do that, and in fact, he’d all but shut down any chance of that. Was his affection, were his words and gestures just a trick? Was he playing me? He probably went home, hid in his room, and started laughing his ass off at how lame I am. He probably found me totally unattractive but spotted me as a ticket to the gravy train. He was charming and stunningly handsome, two traits that were almost a prerequisite to being a gold digger. I’d certainly set the stage for that by buying him formal wear for the banquet as well as a nice suit he could wear to less formal events or important business occasions. And I’d put the icing on the cake with the awesome Prada shoes I’d bought for him. Just as I was lurching down this path of condemning him for being a person who had purposely targeted me with the intention of manipulating me, I paused to consider that he’d bought dinner. Why didn’t he let me pay? Probably that was his one gesture to throw me off his trail and not guess who he really was, a predator planning to break my heart and empty my wallet. I looked at my clock and noticed that it was only midnight. He probably said goodbye to me, went inside, then as soon as I was gone, hurried to the nearest gay bar to find someone to fuck, someone he actually thought was hot.

I pulled out my phone and stared at it, like it was some all-seeing and all-knowing device that would read my mind and give me answers. Probably the only person who could give me advice about this was Will. I remembered how proud Kris was of the Rolex Will had gotten him. Will’s desperate need to not feel guilty about publicly shaming the guy and spending a fortune on a watch for him had set the stage for this whole nightmare. It was easy to blame him for the fact that Kris really thought I was hideous. I let myself get really pissed at him, then I calmed down. He was the only one who could enlighten me, so I decided to use Kris’s mode and be nice to Will to get the info I wanted.

“Hey,” Will said pleasantly as he answered his phone. “How was your date?”

“How did you know I was going on a date?” I asked him suspiciously. Was this some big strategy to humiliate me? Was Will in on this?

“Kris called me to make sure I was cool with it,” Will said.

“Why would he do that?” I demanded. I had planned to be calm about this, but even I thought my voice sounded a little hysterical.

“Because we hooked up once, and because you’re my brother, and that’s the gentlemanly way to handle this situation,” he said to me evenly. “What are you upset about? Was it horrible?”

“I’m not upset,” I lied.

“Dude,” he said, with a tone that called me out for being full of shit.

“We had a great time,” I said reluctantly. “We met at Dior Homme and I bought him stuff to wear to the banquet, we went to Prada and I got him shoes, then he took me to Cancilla’s for dinner.”

“I love that place,” Will said. “Was Dottie there?”

“Of course she was,” I said. “She was as brassy and tacky as the last time I was there.”

He laughed. “True that.”

“Then I took him to see Hairspray, and we made out in the limo,” I said.

“Did he have bad breath or something?” he asked.

“No, it was magical,” I said wistfully. “We totally connected.”

“So what’s bothering you?” he asked.

“He didn’t, you know, try anything,” I said nervously. I was always embarrassed when it came to talking about sex. “I mean, he hangs out at gay bars and hooks up with dudes he just met. Shit, he did that with you. Why didn’t he try anything with me?”

“So you’re mad because he’s not in bed with you, trying to jam his cock up your ass?” Will asked.

“You are such a pig,” I said, so disgusted with him.

“Oink,” he replied, then I had to wait for him to stop laughing before we could continue our discussion. “Look, JJ, Kris has been with a lot of guys, and he’s probably pretty good at reading them. You’re a really classy dude, probably the classiest he’s ever encountered. He’s probably treating you with more respect because of that, and he knows you’d be pissed if he treated you like a twink slut he met in a bar.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Personally, I definitely think you should get him to fuck you,” he said. He was so coarse, but he’d piqued my curiosity.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because he’s really good,” Will said.

“You would know,” I said, since he was such a slut.

“I would,” Will said. “He knew what he was doing, although it seemed a little mechanical.”

“Maybe that was you, not him,” I snapped.

“Maybe,” Will said, unwilling to let me bug him.

This conversation had mellowed me out, but then my moodiness asserted itself and I got upset again. “What if he’s just a gold digger, playing games with me for cash?”

“You won’t know that for a while,” Will said logically. “If he just appreciates the stuff you buy him, there’s no problem. If he starts asking you for money, or demanding that you buy him things, then it may become an issue. You’re smart enough to figure that out.”

“I can see that,” I acknowledged.

“Besides, in this situation you asked him to go with you to a high-brow banquet, so it’s reasonable that you’d help him look good. If he looks like shit, it will reflect badly on you,” he said.

“I did do that,” I agreed. “I think that I’m probably still fucked up from Carullo dumping me.”

“Yeah, I totally understand that, but it’s not fair to judge Kris based on that,” Will said.

“I know that,” I snapped, then sighed. “Thanks for talking to me about this.”

“No problem,” he said. “Dude, I have always had your back, and I always will.”

“I appreciate that,” I said, and ended our call. For a brief moment, I calmed down and acknowledged that he was right, and that he was always in my corner.

August 7, 2004

Tribeca

New York City, NY

JJ

I’d been awake so much last night torturing myself that I’d slept a lot later than I’d planned, which is why it was now 11AM as I walked into the kitchen. “Good morning,” I said to Jacinta, then I noticed that Susannah was sitting at the table.

“Good morning,” Susannah replied, thinking I’d been talking to her.

Jacinta patted me affectionately on the shoulder. “I will make you lunch.”

“Thanks,” I said, then paused. “Actually, I’ll probably go out for lunch, so make it something lighter.”

“I will do that,” she said. Going to sit with Susannah certainly wasn’t high on my list of fun things to do, but I remembered that she was my guest and I needed to at least be civil.

“You look nice today,” Susannah said.

“Thank you,” I said pleasantly. “So do you.”

“I’m meeting some friends for lunch,” she said in a taunting kind of way. I’d planned to be nice, but her snarkiness took off the chains and released me from that bond.

“I hope you have a fabulous time,” I said, in a tone that indicated I didn’t care whether she enjoyed it or not, but Susannah didn’t say anything. She was waiting for me to tell her what I was doing. Jacinta brought me some fruit to munch on so instead I focused completely on a couple of grapes. No way I couldn’t outlast her.

“And what are you doing today?” she finally asked. Victory was mine.

“I have a date,” I said. She raised an eyebrow and glared at me. “He gets here at noon. Will you still be here then?”

“I will not,” she said, and stood up like a campy actress who was playing someone who was annoyed. “Enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks,” I said cheerfully. Those last exchanges had been the equivalent of saying ‘fuck you’ to each other.

I finished my breakfast, went back to my room to make sure I still looked perfect, then paced around the condo until 11:58, when the house phone rang. I answered it and told the concierge to let Kris come up. I walked to the door, opened it, and stood outside. He got off the elevator and looked the wrong way at first, then turned around and saw me. “Welcome,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said, and strode over to me. Even his walk was perfect: smooth but masculine. He leaned down to give me a quick kiss.

“Come on in,” I said, and ushered him into the condo. I led him into the great room and his mouth fell open in awe. This really was a beautiful room. Because this unit was on the top floor, it had very tall ceilings. There were huge windows that tore your eyes out to the city, and to the spot where the Twin Towers used to be.

“This is magnificent!” he said. “Holy shit.”

“It’s home,” I said succinctly, as if this place wasn’t something to be very proud of.

“You decorated this room,” he accused.

“Some of it,” I said. He waited for me to explain that. “Stef bought the furniture. He also painted it a different shade of blue but I had it redone. I pointed out the picture Marc Carmine had painted. “I bought this picture in Boston.”

“It’s spectacular,” he said, and seemed entranced by it. I started laughing, so much that when he turned around and looked at me, he was annoyed.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and got myself under control. “For the first time I looked at this picture and realized how it had unleashed hell on my family.”

“This picture?” he asked. “I like it.”

“I bought it in Boston and had it shipped down here. Stef and my father were in town and the artist, a really hot guy named Marc Carmine, called, wanting to take a picture of it for his portfolio,” I said, explaining why I was laughing. “He ended up going out with my father.”

“That’s pretty trippy,” he said. “Did they date or just hookup?”

“Marc became like my stepmother,” I said. “Only he basically walled himself and my father off from our whole family, and my father was so whipped he was losing all his business sense.”

“That would be a lot, from what I’ve heard about Brad Schluter,” Kris said reverently.

“It’s probably true, but he can be such a pain in the ass,” I said, shaking my head at my difficult-to-deal-with father.

“So they broke up?” Kris asked.

“Will is the tightest with my father. I would not want that kind of relationship with him, but Will thrives on it. They also get in some hellacious fights,” I said, chuckling. “Anyway, my father blew Will off, actually he blew all of us off, and Will launched this whole campaign to piss my father off and pull him out of his daze.”

“How did he do that?” Kris asked.

“Spent a shitload of money,” I said. “Enough to annoy my father.”

“I could see how that would work,” he said.

“Let’s grab a drink and I’ll show you my second-favorite place in this condo,” I said. We went into the kitchen and I introduced him to Jacinta, who leered at him like she was a coyote in heat. I opened the door to the drink cooler and gestured for him to grab something. He took a Diet Dr. Pepper, which was a bit intriguing. I grabbed a Fiji water. “This way.”

I led him up the stairs and opened the door to the deck on the roof. “This is stunning,” he said.

“Just a minute,” I said, and went over to flip the switch to turn on the fountains, then walked over to join him as we looked at them. “This was first a flower bed with all kinds of plants and flowers, then my mother had it torn out and put in a lawn for my half-sister.” Somehow that really jolted me, and I had one of my attacks, where I remembered my mother and got really sad. There was absolutely no way to stop them, so all I could do was stand there and cry. I suddenly felt Kris’s body behind me, his strong arms pulling my back to his chest, and his lips next to my ear.

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, “It’s okay.” I felt totally safe, and my episode vanished.

“I’m sorry,” I said, pivoting around to face him. He gently kissed away my tears in the sexiest way. “My mother was killed in the Towers, and sometimes when I think of her I get sad.”

“I get it,” he said, with the pain of a New Yorker who had lost someone on that tragic day. Now we were both depressed, so I decided to continue my explanation.

“So anyway, Stef arranged to have the lawn torn out and these fountains installed,” I said, ignoring what asses they’d been when they decided to do it without even asking me for input. Then again, that was part of the story of how I ended up owning this condo. “It’s nice because on a warm day I can come up here and lounge in the water. I mean, it’s only three feet deep, but it works.”

“Sucks that it’s a little too cold for that today,” he said. It was about 70 degrees.

“It has a special feature,” I said, and walked back to the wall where there was a chic box hiding the control panel. I opened it up, punched a couple of buttons and went back over to him. The fountains went off and the water was swirling now.

“It’s like it transformed itself into a hot tub,” he said skeptically.

“That’s exactly what it is,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Wicked,” he said, cracking me up for talking like he was from Massachusetts. “Let’s hot tub.”

“It needs a few minutes to warm up. Let’s go downstairs and change,” I suggested.

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” he said.

“You don’t need one, but you do need a robe,” I said. I led him downstairs and into my room.

“I’ll bet that in the end, this is the room I like best,” he said in a sultry way. I blushed like crazy, and he laughed at me until I was annoyed, then he smiled at me and that made me smile back at him.

“Here,” I said, tossing him a robe and a towel. My instinct was to be shy and go into the bathroom, but I overcame that and started taking my clothes off in a sexy way. He grinned at me in what was more like a leer and started following suit. It wasn’t a prelude to a fuck; it was more of an erotic show, and it gave me a chance to appreciate his stunning body. I had no idea how he managed to stay so ripped while working the hours he did.

“You are gorgeous,” he said, as I put on my robe.

“So are you,” I said, and blushed even more.

“I know,” he said, winking at me and totally eliminating my embarrassment. We went up to the hot tub, shed our robes, then got into the pool. It had only warmed up to about 90 degrees, which felt really good but not hot. “This is perfect.”

“I love this place,” I said.

“Do you live here alone?” he asked.

“Well Jacinta lives here too,” I said.

“Duh,” he replied.

“There’s a girl who also lives here. She’s sort of a houseguest,” I said. “Her name is Susannah Calthorpe.”

“She was with you at the gallery,” he said, almost an accusation.

“She was,” I said.

“Dude, are you with her?” he asked, and seemed pretty upset.

“We were together, but now we’re not,” I said. “We’re in the process of breaking up, so that means we just snipe at each other.”

“That is not how my breakups go,” he said. “I’d be a gentleman and apologize to her for being the other person that you’re with, but I don’t want to.”

“Good,” I said. We moved toward each other and he kissed me, only this time he didn’t stop. We made out for a bit, then he pushed our bodies together and I felt his hard cock pushing into my abdomen. I lowered my right hand down and grabbed it, causing what seemed like a bolt of lightning to fly through him.

Before I knew it his hand was on my dick, and I just melted into him. He broke off our kiss long enough to whisper “nice” in my ear in a sexy way. We moved apart and I started stroking him with a mission, only he backed away from me. He put his hands on the side of the pool and pushed himself up so he was sitting on the edge, his hard cock aimed right at my mouth. I spent some time really studying it, which must have seemed like I was worshiping it. He really seemed to like that. It was about seven inches long, probably about the average width, and completely smooth. I slowly took him into my mouth, then started sucking on him. He put his hand down and ran his fingers through my crunchy gelled hair, subtly regulating my speed and depth. “Gonna cum,” he said, in a deep masculine growl. I was tempted to pull off and let him blast in the pool, but I liked him, so as soon as I tasted the first shot of his cum, I jammed his dick down my throat. I felt him starting to relax as his orgasm subsided, so I slowly pulled my mouth back. “Dude, that was fucking amazing,” he said, and seemed surprised.

“I thought so too,” I said, smiling at him, but by this time I was so horny I thought I would die if I didn’t blow my load.

He jumped back into the pool, picked me up, and put me on the edge, and then I felt his mouth absorb my dick. I had never been with someone who was as good at blow jobs as him. I wanted to cum quickly, so he could relax and enjoy the afterglow, but he wasn’t having it. He took his time, and when I came I couldn’t stop myself from crying out loudly. “Shit,” I said, panting when I was done. “Shit.”

“You liked that?” he asked. He was cocky and adorable.

“I loved that,” I said. “You are so talented.”

“Not as talented as you,” he said, and I gave him a look to call him out on that bullshit. “I’m not just talking about sucking dick.”

“So I wasn’t good?” I asked. He was frustrated now, so I started laughing to ease the mood just like he had. “So why am I talented?”

“Dude, I stayed up late last night on Google, watching you skate,” he said. “Holy shit. You are amazing.” I was flattered that he’d done that.

“Thanks,” I said. “I was pretty good.”

“I’ll bet you still are,” he said.

“Which performance did you like the best?” I asked, because I was curious, and because I wanted to know if he’d actually watched more than one.

“The Regional you did before the final in Dallas,” he said.

I nodded. I was impressed that he’d watched me skate enough to know which one was better. “I think you’re right. I think that was my best routine,” I said, pondering it. “Sure was better than Dallas.”

“It was, but you were definitely the best of all the skaters there,” he said. “You deserved that medal.”

“Thanks,” I said. “What sport did you play?”

“I played lacrosse when I was in high school,” he said. “Since then, I spend most of my time just working out. I’m a decent skier and I can surf okay.”

“I can ski alright,” I said, then paused. “Ok, don’t tell anyone this.” I waited until he nodded. “I’m also an okay surfer.”

“Why is that a secret?”

“To understand, you’d have to see Will and my father surf,” I said. “I’m pretty sure Will could have gone pro if he wanted to, and he’s probably even better now because he’s been surfing all summer with his boyfriend.”

“He’s got a boyfriend?” he asked. I nodded. “Do you like him?”

“I do,” I said. “Travis is a nice guy. We went to school together until I was fifteen. I’ve always been short, and other kids sometimes would pick on me.” It annoyed me that he could see how much being bullied had bothered me.

“So Travis stuck up for you?” he asked.

“He did, but it was usually Will and occasionally my older brother Darius. Darius was always the big man on campus, so once people figured out that I was his brother, they left me alone,” I said. That had been weird. I remembered how my first three weeks of school had been shitty, with Will and occasionally Travis jumping in to kick someone’s ass for me. Then Darius intervened, and the bullying stopped completely. It didn’t happen again until Ryan and Crawford picked on me at Harvard-Westlake, and Will shut that down too.

“I still don’t get why surfing is a big secret,” he said.

“Because no one in my family knows that I can do it,” I said.

“How did you learn?” he asked.

“Will moved up to Palo Alto and left his board, so I took it out once in a while and practiced a bit. I mean, with ice skating you learn to balance, so it wasn’t all that hard.”

“He went away and you missed him, so surfing helped you pretend he was still there,” he said, trying to psychoanalyze me.

“That is so not the deal,” I said, then began to wonder if it actually had been, and that really irritated me.

“Sorry, it just seemed that way to me,” he said. I sighed.

“Surfing is this bond that my dad and Will have,” I said. “If they know I can actually ride a wave, it would probably make them want to drag me out with them. I don’t want that kind of bond with my father.”

He put his hand around my shoulder in a proactive way. “Dude, is your father abusive?”

“No, he’s not abusive. He’s a control freak. So my strategy is to avoid him; that way he doesn’t mess with my life,” I said. “Will’s strategy is to fight back, which is why they have such massive battles.”

“I mean, how bad could it be? A lot of yelling and screaming?” he asked. I had to get my laughter under control before I could answer his question.

“When Will was fourteen, my father hired this psychologist/guard who was an ex-marine to teach Will to respect him,” I said, shaking my head at their idiocy. “The guy was physically abusive.”

“Not sexually abusive?” Kris asked and seemed really concerned. I shook my head. “So how did Will react?”

“He developed this whole plan to run away. He scored some roofies and a fake ID. He put the roofies in the morning coffee, which the ex-marine dude drank. Guy loved coffee,” I said.

“So Will knocked him out with the roofies and ran away?” he asked.

I laughed. “That is way too calm for Will. The ex-marine drank the coffee, but before the roofies kicked in he was really mauling Will, even took a belt to his ass. Will managed to escape and led the marine dude up to my father’s sex dungeon.”

‘Wait a minute, your father has a sex dungeon?” he asked, then started laughing. He was laughing while I got completely paranoid.

“You cannot tell anyone about that,” I said severely, so severely it first shocked him, then angered him.

“You can trust me,” he said, and was so pissed off his nose was flaring.

“I. AM. SORRY,” I said earnestly, and realized that was one of the few times I’d apologized and actually meant it. “I usually don’t tell people this kind of stuff until I’ve been seeing them for a while and we’ve had the talk about how private my family is. But, I don’t know, I feel like I’ve known you for a really long time. It just scared me.”

“That’s probably one of the nicest things anyone has ever said about me,” he said, smiling.

“Then you must be a real asshole,” I joked.

“Sometimes,” he said, but before I could quiz him about that, he got me back to our discussion. “So he really has a sex dungeon.”

“He does,” I admitted. “Will’s hand is actually a lot like my father’s, and it has a hand scanner as one way to get in. One day he took me in there and it was pretty hilarious.”

“What was in there?”

“Bunch of videos, a sling, all kinds of weird sex toys, and in the very back there’s a big metal four-poster bed that’s probably used for bondage,” I said.

“That sounds like a playground to me,” he said excitedly. “Someday, I hope we’re close enough that we can sneak in there together.”

“We’ll see,” I said, making him chuckle. “So anyway, Will ran away from this guy, who chased him until he was in the back room with the bondage bed. Will grabbed some kind of bar, what they use them for is beyond me, and hit this dude in the head really hard, knocking him out.”

“Jesus,” Kris said.

“He dragged the dude to the bed, handcuffed him to it, and put a ball-gag in his mouth,” I said, and we both started laughing at that. “Then he realized how upset he was, and vomited all over him.”

“Dude, remind me not to piss Will off,” he said. I chuckled at that.

“So then Will decided to get back at my dad and his partner,” I said. He started to ask about Robbie but I put my hand on his leg to stop him, and amazingly enough he understood the gesture. “Will got some pool acid and burned words like ‘bitch’ and ‘pussy’ into their cars.”

“What kind of cars?” he asked, almost nervously. He must be a car guy.

“A Ferrari 360 Modena and a Porsche 911 Turbo 4,” I said.

“Those are nice cars,” he said.

“It took a lot of work to repaint them, and cost a shit ton of money,” I said.

“I’ll bet they kicked his ass for that,” he said.

“Well after that, he took the acid up to their room and poured it all over their clothes. My dad dresses really well. Really conservatively, but really well. All of his suits were ruined. Shirts, pants, ties…ruined,” I said. “Then he cut one of each pair of their shoes in half with a saw.”

Kris just stared at me, amazed. “That’s like a fucking war.”

“That’s how they are when they fight,” I said, like it was completely normal.

“So what happened to Will?” he asked.

“He ran away, went to Hawaii, and no one knew where the fuck he was,” I explained. “That finally got through to my father, and he sent Will an email, and Will came home.”

“My family wasn’t like that at all,” he said.

“Tell me about them,” I said.

“My grandparents came over here during World War II,” he said uncomfortably. “From what I understand, they were under Gestapo surveillance, and they knew that if they didn’t get out of there they’d end up dead.”

“What did they do?” I asked.

“My family had a high profile in Germany, even under the Nazis. My grandfather was one of those people who didn’t support the Nazis, but he didn’t take a stand against them,” Kris said. “At first, that was good enough for the Gestapo to leave him alone, but then later on it wasn’t. My grandfather had contacts in Switzerland, so in 1940 they managed to escape with their three kids. Like a lot of aristocrats, most of their money was in land. They took what cash they could lay their hands on, plus jewelry, and that was it.”

“So they got here and they were poor?” I asked, truly horrified.

“No, they just weren’t rich,” he explained. “They bought a really nice condo on Park Avenue and had enough money to help their kids buy houses on the Upper East Side. But through the years, my father never had a good enough job to support their lifestyle. My mother was a spender. My father tried to win big in the stock market, and ended up losing most of their money. That’s why I had to take out loans to go to college.”

“Is that why you became an investment banker, to do better than he did,” I asked. I didn’t know shit about the financial markets, but I did understand competition. He thought about that.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I think I just didn’t want to make stupid mistakes like he did, and I wanted to try and rebuild my family’s fortune,” he said.

“Was it tough growing up?” I asked.

“No. I didn’t have to worry about money at all until the end of high school,” he said. “My father was a stupid investor and lost a shitload of money in Asian stocks. That’s when everything changed. They funded my last year at Andover but told me I was on my own for college.”

“That’s really unfair,” I said. “Do you hate your father for doing that?”

“My father is dead,” he said sadly, pain I could recognize all too well. “He died of a heart attack a couple of years ago. He was older when I was born and died when he was 60. I guess losing most of his money suddenly made him old.”

“That sucks,” I said, and leaned in to give him a loving kiss on the cheek.

“Yeah, it was really hard. My mother is a total flake,” he said. “She was really bitter about being broke because she was all about her position in society. After he lost their money, she didn’t go out much, and instead stayed home and nagged him about how he’d failed as a husband and father.”

“Ouch,” I said. “So why was she a flake?”

“She had no clue about their money situation,” he said. As an investment banker, he probably found that maddening. “I have a younger brother named Klaus. He and I had to spend weeks digging through boxes of paper, trying to find assets and shit my father might have squirreled away. He liked to hide shit.”

“Did you end up finding anything?” I asked.

“We did,” Kris said. “He actually had about $250,000 worth of gold coins. So after all that work that Klaus and I did, my mother decided that it was all hers. Klaus and I thought it would be fair to take half of it and pay off our student loans, but she’s pretty fucking selfish, so took the whole thing.”

“You must hate her,” I said, gauging his reaction.

“I don’t hate her, but I’m mad at her,” he said. “When we found the coins, Klaus wanted to keep them, but I made him tell her about them. So in his mind it’s my fault he’s out a bunch of money, so he’s not talking to me.”

“Your whole family fragmented,” I said. “That’s got to be awful.”

“It’s not a fun thing,” he said. “All I’ve got now is this signet ring and some other family regalia. She tried to keep those, but I actually had a temper tantrum. Not as bad as Will, but bad.”

I laughed at that. “What did you do?”

“I quoted Prussian law, the law of primogeniture, and said that the family stuff was mine by right as the oldest son,” he said.

“She let you have them?” I asked.

“No, I had the signet ring on my finger and a box of other stuff in my hands. She told me it was all hers, and demanded that I give it to her. I told her to fuck off and left. Haven’t talked to her since,” he said. “And Klaus is mad because of the gold coin thing, and how in the end I ended up with some pretty valuable heirlooms.”

“So that’s why you’re hitting on handsome young rich guys,” I teased.

“I am not a gold digger,” he shouted.

“I was just joking,” I said firmly. “Do not yell at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Have you been accused of that before?” I asked.

“Once,” he said, and got really sad. “I really don’t want to talk about it now. Can I tell you about it later?”

“Sure,” I said. I smiled and he kissed me, and I found myself completely gobsmacked, as Susannah would put it, by this guy. He was such a cocky bar slut, yet he had done a total emotional brain dump on me.