Other Avenues - 14. Chapter 14 Extra, Extra, Read All About It

JERRY

I slowly opened my eyes to survey the surroundings, as morning light flooded into the hi-rise bedroom. Bill was awake, lying still on his back, staring at me on my stomach and my nearest hand on his crotch. “Morning, babe. Have you been awake long?” I noticed the clock indicated 6:15.

“For a while. I got up for a morning pee. Lying here like a stiff board is not too comfortable. But having a warm hand wrapped around my dick almost makes up for it,” he said with a laugh. I started massaging his member. “Hey, don’t start something that you can’t finish.”

Rising up, I moved over between his legs. “Who says I can’t finish this?” I answered, while bringing my lips to his now-hard cock. Moving forward, I took his hot love organ completely and started taking it back and forth in alternating long and short motions. Palming his balls, I extended the fingers for a little butt hole playtime.

“Oh, fuck, Jerry. What a way to wake up. Shit…ahhh.” His groans were mixed with audible slurping sounds coming from by mouth as the action sped faster. “Urrgh, suck me dry…ohhh.” Feeling his balls starting to contract, I jammed my index finger deep into his chute and found the love nut. He clamped tight as he burst into climax. I savored the emissions as we lay still for a few moments. “Hmmm, thank you, love. I stand corrected. You can finish what you start.” With his free arm, he gently stroked my head, as I rose from his crotch and carefully met him face to face.

After tenderly trading kisses with Bill, I asked, “Is the shoulder okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. As ordered, I let you do the work. I’m going over to the hospital this afternoon, so your brother can check the wound and re-dress it.”

“I’d like to go with you. Okay?”

“Hell, yes. In fact, why don’t you call Coulter and find out a time when he can check me over and get away for lunch?”

“Good idea. I’ll call him a little later. In the meantime, I’ll get the newspapers.”

“Both the Trib and the Sun-Times should be at the door. I’m going clean up a little. I’ve got an extra toothbrush for you.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said, as we both got out of bed. I put on my briefs in case a neighbor was up early. Padding through the living room to the front door, I tentatively opened it to check for anyone in the hall. Coast clear. ‘Oh shit,’ I reacted, looking at the two papers front pages on the threshold floor. Both featured large, color photos of Bill and me. I jumped into action and grabbed both editions and hastily closed the door before being noticed.

“Leave the papers in the kitchen. I’m coming in to make coffee,” I heard Bill holler from the bedroom. “Meet you there.”

“Hurry, babe. I think you’ll recognize the guys in the picture on the first page.”

Laying the papers on the large kitchen table I positioned them side by side: the Tribune being the traditional ‘broad sheet’ fold, while the Sun-Times retained a tabloid style.

The traditional Trib had two banner headlines:

F.B.I. Exposes White Collar Crime

Two Executives Lucky To Be Alive!

The tabloid Sun-Times was more succinct:

Controller’s Hand Caught In Cookie Jar

Lawyer Foils Attempt on Friend’s Life!!

Observing the press photos, I concluded that we made a good-looking couple. For the straight reader, we projected a clean-cut, youthful, successful image. Just the look that companies sought. Bill’s casual dress because of the wound brought sympathy into the picture. For Chicago’s gay community, and probably the national gay population if the story had reach, we were the poster boys for young, achieving executives who were maybe a little more than professionally friendly.

“Hey, babe, anything interesting in the papers?” he said with a slight snicker. Bill looked adorable with his morning ‘bed head’ and loosely draped terry robe.

“For openers, you and I are page one stories with some good photos. You look cute, stud,”

“Wow. I really didn’t expect this. But, yeah, we do look kinda hot in a corporate way.”

“Corporate, my ass,” I said, standing up and kissing him lightly.

“Um, Jerry. Why don’t you clean up a little while I fix coffee and check out our press?”

“Okay, I can take a hint. I’ll take a fast shower and brush my teeth. Be back in ten.” Going back to the master bath shower, I moved through a three-minute shampoo and body scrub before taking care of the teeth and breath. I decided to forego a Sunday shave. Going for the studied, disheveled look, I redressed myself in yesterday’s wardrobe before returning to the kitchen.

“Oh, I love this: ‘Saunders gallantly charged into the Near North town home of Mr. Jerry Franklin to rescue him from the grips of the armed invader, Harold Atkins. After a violent scuffle, Mr. Saunders was shot, and the perpetrator was subdued by Franklin.’ What a crock,” Bill concluded.

“Babe, that crock is a very positive spin. You, my friend, are a fucking hero. My personal hero, too,” I replied, kissing him again.

“I can get used to this. Pour yourself a cup of coffee.” Bill continued to read the papers.

Filling a cup with coffee, I asked, “Are you the cook-in Sunday type, or do we go out? I’m kinda hungry.”

“On Sunday, my car automatically goes to the Original House of Pancakes on Bellevue. That okay with you?”

“I can do that. I love their strawberry pancakes. Why don’t you get dressed and we can go? It’s still early enough to beat the crowd.”

“Great. Read the rest of that shit and I’ll be back in a sec.” With that, he disappeared. Sipping the coffee, I found the business section of the Sun-Times. Lazard could be brittle but his analysis was insightful. I read:

“With American Foundry’s earnings heading south the past five years, CEO George McDonald brought in the respected Martin Consulting group, led by Jerry Franklin, to assess the company and offer a concrete plan to become again the aggressive, Chicago-based enterprise it once was.” Lincoln Lazard was also syndicated. ‘Is he in the Post or Daily News in New York?’ I queried.

“Ready?” Bill asked as he returned with fresh clothes on. Walking up, he continued, “I’m really proud that I can button my shirt. I’ll have your loaners cleaned.”

“That’s not necessary, but thanks.” We left the condo tower garage and headed over to the restaurant that had been a mainstay in the yuppie-guppie Near North neighborhood for years. Even at 7:15 a.m. the dining rooms were more than half-filled with mostly young men and women in very mixed groupings.

As we were shown to a booth, the morning conversation din hushed. From the side of the room, someone yelled, “Good going guys.” “Two thumbs up,” someone else tossed out. We stopped and smiled with a wave. Slowly, applause and guys ‘wolfing’ gathered momentum around the restaurant. I brought two thumbs up and nodded thanks as we continued to the booth. I pulled out my PDA to check for messages as we sat.

The server came and took our orders promptly. We didn’t need menus. “I guess this will be our 15 minutes of fame,” Bill tossed out, referring to Andy Warhol’s line. “This will be forgotten in a few days.”

“Don’t be so sure, buddy,” I responded while reading email from the Blackberry. “Margie says that both ‘Good Morning America’ and ‘Today’ want us as their lead stories for the 7:09 a.m. segment tomorrow. You up for some early morning TV interviews? This means being available for makeup at 5:00 a.m. Chicago time.”

“Might as well get it out of the way,” he replied with a shrug.

“I suggest that we use the conference room at your offices. It would be a good corporate setting with the American Foundry logo behind us.”

“And an American flag. I like that. We can call George a little later. What shall we tell Margie?”

“She’s got some fancy footwork for planning. With both network shows wanting the same time frame, one of the two will have to pre-tape. And I’m sure that CBS will be in the act, as well as CNN. And don’t forget the local WGN and Fox morning shows. I can see us locked into interviews from 5:30 a.m. local to around seven-thirty. Let’s call her after breakfast.”

The two orders of strawberry pancakes arrived, and we started eating. Slowly, one stranger after another came up to the booth to offer praise. Several asked us to autograph their newspaper’s front page. The comments were very positive and we graciously accepted them. The server told us the breakfast was compliments of the manager. Thanking her, we left a big tip and rose from the booth. With all eyes on us, we both smiled and waved, exiting the restaurant.

“Let’s go over to my place, and we can make calls from there,” I said, swinging into his car.

“It’ll be 8:15 a.m. when we get there. I know George will be up. I just don’t know if he is playing golf today, but he carries a cell for emergencies”

“We’ll find out soon.” Returning to Astor Street, I felt better entering the house. First to greet us was my nine-pound feline roommate. “Come on back to the office. We can make all the calls from there. Also, what do you think about Margie, Joe, Sammy, you and me getting together here later this afternoon for some planning for tomorrow? Margie should have the schedule by 4:00 p.m.

“I think that’s important.”

“After we talk to George, I’ll call Margie. Want something to drink? I’m going to feed the cat.”

“Maybe a bottled water? I’ll try George,” I said, nodding, leaving the room. Returning a few minutes later, after making one cat happy, Bill gave me thumbs up while he was talking. “Yes. Jerry thinks that the interviews from the conference room will project a good image for the company.

~~~ “I agree. I’ll call security and the building manager to have the offices open by five. Is Jerry with you now?

“Yes, sir. Would you like to speak with him? He’s standing next to me.”

~~~ “Just for a moment. And, Bill, nice work. The boys at the clubhouse could not have been more supportive.”

Covering the phone with a hand, Bill said, ”He loves the coverage.”

“Good morning, George. I understand you like the press?” I said with a laugh.

~~~ “Holy Christ, Jerry. Both front pages. And the business columns are very positive.”

“Well, as Bill told you, we will have a busy day tomorrow. We’re going to have a planning session later today with Joe, Margie and Sammy. You want to join us?”

~~~ “No, you men handle it. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow. Let me talk to Bill again.”

“Okay. See you then. Here’s Bill,” I said handing him the phone,

~~~ “One more thing. After the interviews, I don’t want to see you for a couple of days. You need a little R & R. Suppose you could stay away until Thursday?”

“I’m not going to object. I could use a little down time.”

~~~ “Then, when you return, I want to talk about a job promotion I have in mind for you.”

“Mr. Mac, you really know how to surprise someone. I’m flattered.”

~~~ “Bill, you earned it. See you tomorrow. Bye.”

Clutching the telephone by his chest, Bill said, “That son-of-a-gun is going to offer me a promotion.”

“Babe, you deserve it. And I can guess what that position is going to be.”

“Yeah? You sound pretty sure.”

“Remember, I’m also recommending certain staffing changes.”

“You mean…?”

“COO. You would be ideal as the Chief Operating Officer working under George. Don’t crack open the champagne yet. But I think that is what he has in mind. In the meantime, let’s make the other calls. Hit speed dial 17. That’s Margie.”

“I wonder where I am on your system?” he said with a curious smile, while pushing the buttons.

“If you hit number one, you’d be dialing your house,” I replied, while wrapping my arm around his waist.

For the next ten minutes we made the round of calls. Margie would meet us here at four. I woke Joe up and slyly suggested that he invite his bedmate to the meeting also. There was a gale of laughter from the other end when Joe passed on my comment. Finally, I tracked down Coulter. He would see Bill at noon and then join us for a quick lunch.

Bill went back to his place around nine. He would return at 11:30 a.m. for the trip to Northwestern Memorial. I called Ben on the golf course and gave him the rundown of the morning Chicago newspapers. Taking special care, I restored the area to its original calmness and cleanliness. Last, I called Mom and offered a rundown of the events since we had last spoken and the press coverage.

“Bill’s coming back to see Coulter at the hospital. He wants to check up on Bill’s wounds. Mom, are you and Dad doing anything for Labor Day?”

~~~ “Actually, nothing’s been planned. Sounds like you’ve got something in mind?”

“I don’t want to be pushy, but I was wondering if we might have a good, old fashioned family steak fry and pool party? Just you two, Coulter and Judy, and me plus a special guest.”

~~~ “Jerry, let me guess. Are you telling me that Bill is going to part of our family?”

“I’m busted. But I feel very fortunate to have found someone that I’m so comfortable with. It’s like we’ve been in each other’s lives for years.”

~~~ “I better start making plans, then. You invite Coulter when you see him today. It’s only two weeks away. Must run…but I’m really happy for you. Bye, honey.”

The rest of the day fell into place. After Bill’s check-up, we all went to the staff lounge for lunch. Since it was Sunday, most restaurants around the hospital were closed. Coulter and Judy did not have plans for Labor Day. Knowing more now, I realized that Bill would love the outing with the family. Coulter asked Bill to return Wednesday for another check-up. My brother was pleased with the healing. He also planned on being off for the next two days.

Getting back around 2:30 p.m., we tuned in for the opening inning of a Cubs-Los Angeles Dodgers game. I knew that the bed would be comfortable for him, and I loved the 42” plasma flat screen in the bedroom. Snuggling together with a mix of pillows for support, somewhere around the third inning, we drifted off to sleep.

As I became aware of the doorbell ringing, I opened my eyes and adjusted them to the screen. It was the eighth inning and the Cubs were losing 8 to 3. ‘Holy fuck,’ I thought, ‘it’s just before four.’ I sprang out of bed and ran downstairs to the door. Opening it, I gazed at the youthful vision times two that I had come to enjoy seeing recently.

“Sammy, Joe…come in.” Wearing tees, cargo shorts and flip-flops, the guys radiated an exuberant, prime masculinity. “I’m embarrassed to tell you that Bill and I fell asleep watching the Cubs game. Why don’t you guys raid the fridge for drinks, and I’ll wake up Bill. Listen for the door. Margie’s coming.” As they went to the kitchen, I walked back up to the bedroom to awaken this guy who had become so important in my life.

Observing him still zonked out, I sat down next to him and started licking his face from the resting brow to the eyes and cheeks. He slowly stirred with a smile. “Is this a dream? Am I waking up to the man I adore devouring my face with love licks?”

“The very same. Babe, it’s the bewitching hour. Or, specifically, 4:00 p.m. We have a planning meeting to conduct and are needed downstairs.”

“Hi, ho, back to work.” With that I helped him up, and we joined the guys in the kitchen. Just then the doorbell rang. I excused myself to open the door for ‘the larger than life’ Margie, with her ‘big hair’, gray mane offset by black on black Donna Karan. She was wearing just enough gold chains not to be gauche.

“Hi ,Jerry, is everybody here? I’ve got a schedule you won’t believe.” She talked all the way back to the kitchen. “Hi, guys. We’ve got a lot to do in a short time.”

After I offered her an Evian, we all sat down around the table. “Margie has a schedule of tomorrow’s interview shows.” I had stationed some legal pads and pens on the table earlier. Mr. Charley was observing the scene completely uninterested.

“Okay, here is the deal.” With that, she passed around tomorrow’s itinerary. “Bill and Jerry are going to be busy from before sunrise. Everyone has agreed to broadcast from American Foundry. NBC got a little pissy about not having an exclusive interview. But they were happy to be broadcasting live. You’re taping CBS at 5:30 a.m., and ABC at 5:45 a.m. NBC will do the lighting for everyone because of the tight schedule. The Today interview will be live at 6:09 a.m. for the East Coast feed.”

“Okay, Margie. Where do the other TV shows fit in?”

“Like clock work. CNN at 6:30 a.m., WGN at 7:03 a.m. and Fox at 7:15 a.m.”

“I’m glad that we’ve got time for a pee break,” I suggested, as everyone laughed. Seriously, this is awfully tight. Are you okay with this, Bill?”

“As long as we don’t hit any hostile patches, I’m fine.”

“Margie, get the best makeup person available for us. We’ve got six interviews in the morning. It’s important that we look fresh and professional.”

“Consider it done. But I’ve got one more show for you to do tomorrow,” she said somewhat apologetically.

“You don’t mean…”

“Yes. Oprah. Her people want you two on the show tomorrow. They tape at 11:00 a.m. live and feed the edited show at 2:00 p.m. to the Eastern markets. I need to know your answer now. They are awaiting a decision by 5:00 p.m. at the latest.”

“Buddy,” I said to Bill. “It looks like the 15 minutes is, indeed, stretching. I’ve never known Oprah to be negative. I suggest we go for it.”

“Margie, we’ll do it,” Bill agreed. “But no more surprises. I want to ‘veg’ Tuesday and Wednesday.”

“Fair enough. However, I know that the business magazines will want a piece of you two. You guys are hot right now in a slow news week. Their deadlines fall towards the end of the week. My request is to be available Thursday.”

“And my request to you, Margie, is to have a limo at Bill’s place at 4:15 a.m. and then they can cruise by and pick me up. There’s no way I want to try to drive at that hour in the morning.”

“Jerry, you’re such a Jewish princess,” Margie said with a crisp smile. “I’ll arrange it for the day. You’ve got to get your ass to Harpo Studios, later. Not that there is anything wrong with your toukus, sweetheart.”

“Honey,” I said in absolute seriousness, “You will never know.” The crew broke up in laughter.

“Okay, guys,” I concluded. “Time to get to work.” When everyone but Bill left, I pulled him into me, met his willing lips and inhaled his manliness while we had one final kiss. “Babe, 4:15 a.m. comes awfully early. As much as I hate to suggest it, it’s time to say goodnight.”

“That’s okay. There’ll be other times. Many, many other times,” Bill said, with a purr.