Flying Circus - 10. The Attorney - Part II

Friday, 7 May 2027
Ibiza

“Ready?”

When CJ nodded, Owen opened the door to find Brett leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed.

He smirked while inspecting the couple. “You took that long to get ready, and this is what you look like?”

“Fuck you, Cap.” Owen and CJ glanced at their attire and shook their heads; sneakers, jeans, and muscle shirts were perfect for a night clubbing in Ibiza. Brett could be a prick when he wanted to. But he was a lovable one. Surprising him, his son and son-in-law each kissed a cheek simultaneously.

Once the kids had gone to bed, Owen, CJ, Lucy, and Ritch retired to their respective cabins for a nap. They agreed to reconvene in the lounge around eleven before heading out.

“You better keep an eye on her, bro.” CJ tilted his head in Lucy’s direction. “Looking like that, she might be subject to uninvited advances.” Lucy’s short, skin-tight dress hugged and highlighted her figure.

“With the three of you around, I doubt anyone would risk making a move on her.” César was right. Three muscular men escorting one woman would dissuade all but the most foolish or inebriated from trying anything. “What time do you think you’ll be back?”

“Don’t wait up.” CJ took hold of Owen’s hand and squeezed. “Ozzie wanted to go dancing for his birthday, so we’ll be jammin’ ’til the break of dawn.”

“Have fun, Stevie Wonder.” Brett obviously recognized the line from Wonder’s early eighties hit “Blaster.”

“Are any of you taking a phone?” Trenton Phipps, the ship’s engineer, had watched the exchange with an amused expression. He had already mentioned he enjoyed listening to the family’s banter.

Owen and Lucy raised their hands.

“You call us if you encounter any issues. Okay? Although we don’t usually set an anchor watch while docked, James will be up until you return.”

“He doesn’t have to wait!” Owen did not like the idea of someone missing sleep because he wanted to dance.

“He does, sir—Captain’s orders. If any guests are off the Circus, she insists we be ready to provide assistance if needed. Don’t worry about it and enjoy yourselves. I’ve been to that club before and had a blast.”

Although early in the season, Kim, the head steward, had warned them Club ZXZY would probably be packed with tourists and locals. When told the place had private sitting areas on the catwalk surrounding the main floor, CJ asked her to reserve one for them.

“Nope. We’re taking a cab.” Owen had immediately vetoed walking the twenty or thirty minutes to the club. “We don’t need the exercise; I plan to dance all those calories we’ve been eating off.”

Walking ahead with Ritch, Lucy turned to look at the birthday man. “I very much doubt you need to worry about that. It’s not like we’ve been sitting on our behinds the past few days. Anyway, CJ, it’s Ozzie’s day, so he gets to decide.”

Unsure of how late their guests would be returning, and wanting to avoid having to ferry them in the tender in the middle of the night, the captain docked at the end of a pier at the Ibiza Marina. Amid countless luxury vessels, Owen, CJ, Ritch, and Lucy gawped at the ostentatious displays of wealth. They were traveling in luxury for the week, but for others, it was a lifestyle.

A couple of bare-chested, darkly tanned men—in decent shape but based on the gray chest hair, probably in their mid to late fifties—sat in the back of an impossibly long boat, smoking cigars. Around them, four scantily clad young women shook their surgically augmented breasts, and their lifted and enhanced buttocks to whatever music played on the headphones they wore.

The men saluted the two couples with their cigars, and Owen joined the others in returning the greeting with a wave and a smile. “Ritch, if your brother and I ever start chasing young guys, shoot us.” The stage whisper was barely audible, but CJ cracked up.

The weather was clear, temperatures hovered just below seventy degrees, and the soft breeze blowing from the south carried a tinge of salt; CJ thought it was a perfect evening for a stroll. It was why he had suggested they walk to the club. Outvoted, CJ followed his husband as they stepped past the security gate toward Passeig Joan Carles I—the road fronting the marina—and hailed a taxi.

“I’m glad we don’t have to wait in that.” Ritch tilted his head at the line turning the corner.

Those standing in it were primarily young and animated. Couples and small groups scrutinized anyone headed toward the entrance. Conversations in various languages blended into a cacophony that promised to be louder once inside. Converted from a movie theater into a dance club, the structure’s ancient marquee announced a Finde Rosa, Spanish for Pink Weekend.

Ritch came to an abrupt stop when someone wolf-whistled.

“Bloody fine woman.” The speaker was either the whistler or part of his group. “Why don’t you leave the pretty poofters behind and come hang with real men. I’ve got a big one to make you happy.”

Ritch realized the guy was either drunk or high, and his comment was typical of a tough-guy wannabe trying to impress a woman. He failed miserably, but it visibly pissed the airman. He detoured toward the three guys standing together.

“Ritch, don’t.” Lucy’s request was ignored.

“Those two are gay.” Ritch pointed at his amused brother and Owen; they stood on either side of Lucy. “Since you called them pretty, I’ll assume you’re more interested in them than in my girlfriend. Sorry, dude, but they’re married and don’t fuck around. Hope you find some dick before the night’s over.”

Grinning, Ritch turned around, ready to rejoin his crew. A hard shove to the back came close to making him stumble. Owen caught him in time to prevent his face splattering on the concrete.

“Oh, fuck.” CJ shook his head, but the amused expression remained. “That idiot just signed his death sentence.”

Owen was uncertain if any of those in line heard CJ, but as if by mutual accord, everyone around the three guys took steps away from them. Left standing alone, they appeared surprised.

“Fuck you and your faggot friends, Yank!”

Years of boxing, including intercollegiate competition on the Air Force Academy’s team, had made Ritch a dangerous opponent. He turned, threw a hard left to the man’s midsection that made him double over and followed it with an uppercut to the chin. His victim crumpled to the ground.

Smiling, Ritch wrapped an arm around Lucy’s waist and nudged her in the entrance’s direction. The quick takedown and subsequent nonchalant attitude earned him smiles and a few thumbs up. While most people witnessing the action appeared to support him, a handful scowled.

“Are you okay, mate?” Owen was concerned the tricky start to their evening would make it less enjoyable.

“Hell, yeah. I’m normally not the jealous type, but he crossed the line with his bullshit.”

Ritch stopped when they encountered a large man everyone assumed was a bouncer and threw a thumb over his shoulder. “I just knocked out some idiot in line. He’s breathing, but I may have broken his jaw.”

The surprised man did not react immediately but eventually headed in the direction Ritch indicated.

“Well, that’s one way to start the night.” A laughing CJ threw an arm around his brother. “Let’s get inside, tiger. Before you hurt anyone else.

“Well, hello there.” CJ’s greeting was for the drag queen, standing in front of the door, holding a tablet. “You should have our name on your list. Abelló.”

Taller than all of them, with a full beard and auburn chest hair curling over the plunging neckline of a fuchsia outfit, she was impossible to ignore. “Four of you…” She paused to stare at all of them before speaking to Lucy. “Fierce look, girlfriend. What an exquisite little dress. You look gorgeous. Which one of these studs’ yours?”

Lucy shrugged and grinned. “All three.”

“Bitch! Share the wealth!”

They all cracked up.

“In case they prove to be too much to handle by yourself, and you need any help, I’m Penny Celine. I’ll be here the whole night.” After banding their wrists, she unclipped the velvet rope from the brass stanchion, and motioned for them to enter. “Head to the right. Someone at the bottom of the stairs will meet you and show you to your couch.”

She shared an accent with the guy Ritch had pummeled. It confirmed what they had been told: the British made up a large chunk of visitors to the Balearic Islands.

Before taking a step, the bouncer returned and tapped Ritch’s shoulder. He explained he had been unable to find the guy Ritch allegedly pounded to a pulp. Some standing in line claimed his two friends had carried the man away. One witness swore Ritch had acted in self-defense, and that was enough for club staff to consider the matter closed.

“You’re lucky, bro. The brass may not have been happy with you if you wound up in jail charged with assault.”

“Self-defense, CJ. I thought Mexico had taught you all bets are off when you’re threatened.”

The rhythmic beat of house music drifting through the club’s door exploded into a sound wave so loud it made hearing anything else difficult. CJ hip-checked his husband while they climbed the stairs. “Oz, did you notice who’s spinning?”

“I…” Owen looked at the DJ booth and was surprised to see Pink Seoul behind the turntables. “What are the chances? We should go say hi to her.”

Ritch smacked his forehead. “Crap! I can’t believe you guys walk into a club in Ibiza and know people.”

Owen cracked up. “Only the DJ so far, mate. But since we’re with your brother…”

“Fuck you, Oz.” Reaching the semi-circular couch that would be their home for the evening, CJ turned his attention to their server—another drag queen in pink who introduced herself as Sparkle Spring. “Four shots of chilled Clase Azul Reposado and a bottle of Cristal, please.”

She nodded, making her rose-colored, Marie Antoinette wig bobble. “Would you like limes and salt with the tequila?”

Owen, CJ, and Ritch shook their heads. Lucy shrugged. “Not for me either. Guess I’ll follow my boys’ lead.”

“Perfect, darling. I’d do the same. They’re too hot to ignore. Did I hear you guys say you know DJ Seoul?”

“We’ve met her.” Since Owen was the one carrying a phone, he had stuck a couple of CJ’s business cards with two or three of his own in the case. He retrieved one of CJ’s. “Could you do us a favor? Could you have someone deliver that card to Cathy and let her know CJ and Owen say hello?”

“Certainly! I’ll take care of it right away, and I’ll be back with your cocktails.”

Ritch pounced as soon as she left. “The DJ’s name’s Cathy? How you meet her?”

“Cathy Parks. She’s Korean-American. Her nom de guerre—” CJ was unable to finish.

“That’s a dollar word! Too fancy for a quarter.”

“Fuck you, Ritchie. Her performing name comes from her hair’s color, and she spells the second part the same as South Korea’s capital. She may have been born there, but we never got that far.”

“And how do you know her?”

Owen picked up the conversation thread. “Remember we mentioned going to that rave during the Cherry Blossom Festival? She was one of the DJs.”

“And what? You just walked up and introduced yourselves to her?”

“Come on, Ritch. This is your brother we’re talking about. Of course he did.”

“Fuck you again, Oz. Someone on the organizing committee introduced us, bro. Everyone was excited D.C.’s first openly gay mayor would be in attendance, and they wanted to make a big deal out of it.”

“And you think she’s gonna remember you? Considering she played in D.C. last month, and now we find her spinning in Ibiza, I suspect she jets around the world. I bet she meets countless people.”

CJ shrugged and looked apologetic. “The fact we wore kilts and took off our shirts once we got sweaty…”

“You didn’t!” Ritch sounded shocked. “Did the media find out?”

Owen cracked up. “The number of clips shared online of the two of us dancing half-naked was surprising. Two days later, some idiot wrote an editorial for the Washington Times claiming your brother was an embarrassment to the city.”

“Oh, crap… That’s the conservative rag, right? Did CJ threaten to kill him?”

“Hey! I’m right here, you know? How about just asking me instead of Ozzie? I’m not the one who goes around beating up people waiting in line to enter a club.”

“Whatever, bro.”

“He didn’t go that far. But your brother was quoted extensively after the article appeared, saying the writer had apparently never been young or the stick up his behind was too large to realize life didn’t stop when you turned thirty. The guy had to deactivate his social media accounts. I think the entire Washington gay population trashed him.”

“CJ! OWEN!” The DJ’s shout might not have meant anything to the crowd, but to four individuals, it brought smiles.

It also surprised Sparkle sufficiently to spill champagne on the table. “I’m so sorry!” She looked up at CJ and Owen. “We’ll wipe that up in a moment. I guess DJ Seoul remembers you.”

Her guess was confirmed when the busboy she had sent to the DJ’s booth returned with a message, inviting the Americans to stop by and say hello in person.

Since the guy spoke to their server in Spanish, CJ replied in the same language. “Please let her know we’re gonna hit the dance floor for a bit, and we’ll visit her when we take a break.”

While CJ and Owen moved around and chatted with people near them, Ritch and Lucy clung to each other most of the time, barely moving to the music. Sweaty and thirsty, Owen eventually called for a break.

Ritch led the way upstairs, holding Lucy’s hand. He had taken his t-shirt off already and stuck it in a back pocket. As they climbed the steps, two ripped guys approached them from the opposite direction.

The blond in front must have missed Ritch and Lucy holding hands or did not care; he stopped and ran a hand over Ritch’s hairy chest. “Mate, come dance with me and my boyfriend.”

Ritch didn’t get a chance to reply; CJ and Lucy simultaneously did it for him. “He’s taken.” To emphasize the point, she raised their interlocked hands.

The guy grinned and shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. Have fun, sexy.”

Owen cracked up. “I think we should take Ritch with us whenever we go out, Ceej. Guys flirt with him, and he’s the one getting into fights. We come out smelling like roses.”

“Fuck you, brolaw.”

Still laughing, Owen shook his head. “Those two words are getting thrown around a lot tonight. Careful tomorrow, or you and CJ will be funding the kids’ college education with fines.”

The champagne bottle was nearly empty, so CJ ordered a second one when Sparkle Spring stopped by to check on them. Ritch chugged what was in his flute and set the empty on the table. “Do guys still hit on you when you go out?” He directed the question at Owen.

“In D.C., not so much. CJ’s recognized by a lot of people since he started campaigning last year, and I think everyone has read about us being monogamous by now. We’ve both stressed the point in interviews with gay and mainstream media. Most locals have figured out they don’t have a chance with us. A few tourists chatted us up at the part, but friends dissuaded them from getting handsy.”

“What else has changed since the election? My brother claims he doesn’t get to spend as much time with you guys these days.” Lucy’s brother, Harley, was the first student CJ met in his initial high school day. They had been friends since.

“Harley’s full of crap. He’s as busy as I am. In between his girlfriend and his shop, your brother’s either wenching or wrenching.” CJ’s eyebrow wiggle made Lucy giggle, Ritch chuckle, and Owen groan.

“You may be on to something. I’m pretty sure my brother and Kim will make it official soon. Anyway, so, what’s changed the most since the election?”

CJ glanced at Owen. “Access?”

“Yeah…” Owen half-shrugged. “For good and bad. After we returned from Mexico, we became a popular couple in D.C. We constantly received invitations to cocktail and dinner parties. Then we found that galleon, CJ’s Mexico book and the movie based on it were hits, and in between, his appointment as ambassador created another buzz.”

“It’s intensified since I won. The good part’s we can attend anything we want to. Bad side’s we have to show up places we’d prefer not to, and there’s not enough time to do what we’d prefer.”

“What about spending time with the kids?”

“That’s sacrosanct for both of us, Ritch. We eat dinner together more often than not—”

“Even if Ozzie or I have to work afterward.”

“Saturday mornings, the three of them and CJ hit the dojo for an hour, we have lunch together, and then do something fun. Sometimes a sports match, sometimes a museum, often the zoo.”

“Don’t you have mayoral stuff on weekends?”

“Frequently. Mostly public appearances, and I often take the kids with me to those. It’s good for them to get a taste of what being in the public eye’s like.” CJ snickered. “They might as well get ready for what’s coming.”

“Same on Sundays. During rugby season, you’ll find all of us at Old Glory matches. The boys in particular love the fact they’re allowed to roam the sidelines before play starts. Brett and César often join us. Or we’ll go to Georgetown afterward and have dinner with them.”

“Chinese?” Ritch’s smile faded when his brother shook his head.

“Sorry, bro, but that tradition fell by the wayside with you gone. We have Asian food often, but usually Thai or Korean.”

“You guys lead too complicated a life for me. Hey! Let’s go say hello to your friend. I want to dance some more after.”

Accesing the DJ’s platform resembled running an obstacle course. They returned to the dance floor, walked around until locating a small staircase in the back where security cleared them, and dealt with another imposing man when they reached the top landing. The bruiser at the booth’s edge glanced at the DJ, who smiled while holding her headphones against an ear and raising a finger in their direction.

“My friends CJ and Owen are in the house, yo! CJ’s the mayor of Washington, D.C. in America, so this oldie’s for him.”

Owen recognized the opening bars of Chipper’s “The District.” It had been the campaign’s theme song, and she had been tipped by someone to play it at the party in D.C.

Placing the headphones next to the turntable, she took a couple of steps toward her visitors. “What are you guys doing in Ibiza?” She dapped CJ and Owen while staring at Ritch and Lucy. She pointed at the Air Force officer. “You look a little like CJ. Related?”

“He’s my brother. And she’s his girlfriend. Ritch, Lucy, meet DJ Pink Seoul.”

“Call me Cathy. So, what are you doing so far from home?”

“One of our dads turned fifty this week, and it was Owen’s birthday yesterday, so the family chartered a sailboat for a week. We’ve been cruising the islands.” CJ pointed at her equipment. “How long’s the mix?”

“Bah! Don’t worry about it. Close to ten minutes. Happy birthday, Owen. How long are you guys in town for? Maybe we could meet up tomorrow afternoon?”

CJ shook his head. “We sail early tomorrow morning, Cathy. Headed back to Barcelona. All of us are traveling on to other places and have flights to catch.”

“Shit...” DJ Seoul sounded disappointed. “You guys need to go to my website and check out where I’m spinning in the future. If you’re in the same town, shoot me a message, and I’ll leave your name at the door.” She smiled at Ritch and Lucy. “The two of you do the same, okay?”

They chatted for a few more minutes until she had to cue the next number. DJ Seoul hugged them before they returned to the dance floor.

The blond guy who had flirted with Ritch smiled when they ended up dancing next to him and his boyfriend. Having struck out with Ritch, he moved on to flirt with CJ and Owen. “I love a hairy chest,” he said while ruffling the mat on CJ’s chest—he had joined his brother in removing his shirt.

CJ smiled, grasped the guy’s hand, and kissed his fingertips. “Thanks, sexy. But I’m taken too. And if the kids found two other guys in bed with us tomorrow morning, they might freak out.”

“Kids?” The man looked and sounded surprised.

Owen raised three fingers and grabbed CJ around the waist, pulled him in close, and shrugged. “We started early.”

For the remainder of the evening, they followed the same pattern, spending time on the dance floor before returning upstairs to rest, drink, and chat. Once the third Champagne bottle was gone, and they had done a few more tequila shots, Owen stood. “Going to the bathroom, but I’m ready to get back to the Circus.” He pointed at Ritch and CJ. “One of you settle the bill, and let’s get out of here. I’ll meet you at the entrance.”

The temperature had dropped, and the two couples huddled together for warmth. Ritch was the last one to put on his shirt. “Guys, I spent four years in Colorado Springs, and last winter in the Dolomites; I think I can handle chilly weather.”

“Okay, He-Man. I’m cold right now and can’t wait to get into a hot shower.” In a whisper, CJ added “together” for Owen’s benefit.

“Are you guys going to sleep?” Ritch looked down at Lucy. “Are we?”

“I’d like to watch the sunrise…”

“Lucy, that’s the best idea I’ve heard all night.” CJ disengaged himself from Owen’s arms and walked faster. “Come on, guys, let’s get cleaned up and watch the sun come up one last time this trip.”