Gap Year - 23. Chapter 23

February 10, 2004

The Marquee

New York, NY

Will

I collapsed into the back seat of the Maybach, wondering how I was going to manage to make it from the car to the hotel room. I was that seriously fucked up. I’d spent the last half hour trying to avoid Giacomo, who wanted to take me back to his room. Even as messed up as I was, I so wasn’t into him. I suddenly remembered that he was staying at the Bryant too, so hopefully I’d make it back there in time to get through the lobby and to my room before he got back. I just didn’t need things to be this complicated when my brain was functioning at half power.

“The hotel or the condo, sir?” the driver asked. This was a different guy again, and I didn’t like him all that much. He acted all prim and proper, and had this judgmental attitude.

“The hotel,” I muttered. I’d thought about going back to the condo, but I did not want to deal with my family members when I was this fucked up. Besides, there was a good chance Johnny would be at the Bryant. Maybe I’d get lucky. The driver smirked at me through the rear-view mirror in his supercilious way, so I put up the privacy screen, which was the limousine equivalent of slamming the door in someone’s face.

No sooner had I started to revel in that victory when my phone rang. I saw the caller ID and it was my father. I so did not want to talk to him, but if I didn’t answer, he’d call me back, and call me back, and then bitch at me for not answering when I finally did talk to him. While I was in a mental haze, thinking about that, the ringing stopped, and he called right back. I picked it up and muttered hello. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

“I’m tired. It’s two in the fucking morning here,” I said.

“You’ve been drinking,” he accused. That pissed me off enough to hang up on him. I made him call back five times before I answered again.

“Hello,” I said, like I had no idea who was calling, and that I hadn’t ignored him before.

“Don’t hang up on me,” he said authoritatively.

“Then don’t call just to give me shit,” I said. “We’ve been through this bullshit before, and when you do that, it usually means your life is fucked up.”

“My life is not fucked up,” he said.

“Is there some urgent reason for you to call me right now?” I asked. It was amazing how fast he could sober me up.

“I heard you were buying another house, and I wanted to find out what that was all about,” he said calmly, which was a far cry from what he’d been planning to do.

“I’m not up to arguing with you over this right now, so your best move is to call me back tomorrow afternoon, or get the details from Grand in the morning,” I said. “Goodnight.” I hung up the phone, and he called back, but I didn’t answer, and he finally gave up.

I collapsed back into the seat again, only to be blasted by frigid air when the driver opened the door. Shit, I hadn’t even noticed the car had stopped moving. “Bryant Hotel,” he announced.

“Thanks,” I said insincerely, and then glared at him when he tried to help me out of the car. I managed to do that by myself, and to walk to the entrance without falling on my ass. The next obstacle was the doorman, but he saw my key and didn’t say anything. Then I was on the elevator, pushed my floor, and soared up the building, only it just seemed that way to me, because Bryant Hotel wasn’t that tall.

I got to the room, put in my key card, and walked in, trying to be all stealthy, like I was a spy or something. I was kind of surprised to find the bathroom light on and the door slightly open. I tried to close the door to the room quietly, but ended up stumbling and slamming it shut. “Will?” I heard Johnny ask sleepily.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Okay,” he replied, giggling at me. The shower served the two major purposes I’d hoped it would achieve. It got rid of my rank body odor from sweating like a fiend while dancing, and it sobered me up enough so I could actually walk without falling down. I dried myself off and walked out of the room, turning off the light to the bathroom. “Hey, can you leave that on? I’m used to having a night light.”

“Sure,” I said, and put it back the way it was. I hadn’t had a night light since I was five, but if that was his deal, fine. I walked over to ‘my’ side of the bed and dropped the towel, realizing that I hadn’t remembered to put on boxers. I decided that my strategy would be to go fully naked and just keep to my side of the bed.

I lay down on my back, and as soon as I did, he moved over and snuggled up with his head on my chest. He did it so smoothly, it’s like he made his body levitate then gently relax on top of me. I could feel his skin on mine, and could tell that he was as naked as I was. I instinctively ran my hand up and down his back, and through his hair. “So, what did you do tonight?”

“Went to a party at the Marquee, got completely fucked up, and danced like I was Justin Timberlake,” I said.

“You should have invited me,” he said, a little bit annoyed at missing out.

“You got a fake ID?” I asked.

“No,” he said.

“That’s why I didn’t invite you,” I said.

“I need to get one of those,” he said. I didn’t reply to that, because I had no idea how he’d accomplish that in New York. He moved on top of me and I felt his hard cock pressing against mine, getting me erect almost instantaneously. He started frotting with me, but it was in a pretty clumsy way. I leaned over to the nightstand and managed to open the drawer and pull out a bottle of lube. “What’s that for?” he asked nervously.

“Don’t worry,” I said, and kissed him. I made him lean up a bit and I slathered lube all over my hand, then reached down and grabbed both of our cocks and held them together. He started moving again, and this time we slid together smoothly.

“Good idea,” he said breathlessly. It didn’t take me long to blow, and as soon as I was done, he stopped, lay on his back, and started jacking himself off.

“I’ll do that,” I said. He seemed surprised, probably because when he’d messed around with dudes in the past when someone came, it was over. I stroked him gently, admiring his cock, which was almost as big as mine. “Nice.”

“Ahh,” he moaned. I paused and blew him for a bit, and that got him moaning even more. When he was close, I stopped and jacked him off the rest of the way. He lay there panting for a few seconds, then said “thanks.”

I lay on my side, looking at him. “You were bullshitting me when you said you were basically only good as a fuck toy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he challenged assertively.

“I’m saying you haven’t had much experience,” I said, raising an eyebrow. It was pretty obvious this guy was damn near a virgin.

He was going to argue with me, but sighed instead. “I’m sorry about that. I was just freaked out about this deal with Patrick and I exaggerated a little bit.”

“It’s no big deal,” I said. “I’m just glad things weren’t as bad as you made them out to be.”

“I’m more experienced with women,” he said.

“You like them better?” I asked.

“Haven’t done much with dudes,” he said. “It’s fun, but yeah, I like women better.”

“With this big dick, no matter who you go after, you’re bound to be popular,” I said, grabbing his deflating and sensitive cock.

“Look who’s talking,” he said, slapping my hand away. He yawned. “I should try to get some sleep. Got a big day tomorrow.”

“I bought your house tonight,” I said.

“You did?” he asked, perking up. “That’s awesome! How much did you pay?”

“$560,000,” I said.

“Dude, it was overpriced as it was,” he said. “Why did you pay so much?”

“Because I bought all the contents too,” I said. “We close on Thursday.”

“All the contents?” he asked.

“Yep,” I said. “Everything that’s in it.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” he said. “They went for that?”

“Guess the cash was more important than the stuff,” I said. “I was fine with that, because I knew it was important to you.”

He rolled over and hugged me, damn near with a death squeeze. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome,” I said, as he released me and rolled back over onto his back.

“Wait, they all have keys,” he said. “What’s to prevent them from going over there and taking shit?”

I smiled. “Well, instead of doing a full inventory, I hired a security firm to watch over it 24/7.”

He laughed. “It will be hilarious when they try to break in and run into them.”

“I thought your parents would have called you and told you about it,” I said.

“Nobody wants me to be even remotely involved in this,” he said, shaking his head. “They’re probably trying to figure out how to keep all the money and not at least share it with me.”

“Well, my advice is to not be bitter about it, but to just be happy that you got what you wanted, and they got what they wanted,” I said.

“You suddenly turned into the opposite of a badass,” he said, grinning at me, then he rolled over and went to sleep.

February 10, 2004

Bryant Hotel

New York, NY

Will

I sat in the main suite in my sweat pants, eating breakfast courtesy of room service. I was kind of surprised that no one was here but me, but as soon as I began to ruminate about that, the door opened and Stef came in, along with Grand and Tom.

“Good morning!” Stef said in his perky way.

“Morning,” I said. “Want something to eat?”

“We are pressed for time as it is,” Stef said.

“I am not,” Grand said, and sat down at the table and started nibbling on some of the fruit they’d brought me.

“How did your evening go?” Stef asked.

“I got completely fucked up, danced like a fiend, hung up on my father, and came back here and fooled around with Johnny,” I said. “So, I’d call it a good night.”

They all laughed at that. “What did your father call you about?” Stef asked.

“He heard I was buying a house, and he always freaks out when I do a real estate deal,” I said, making him chuckle.

“Well, we are off,” Stef said.

“Wait,” I said. “I want to have that meeting with Johnny and Patrick tomorrow,” I said. “When is a good time?” That started a lengthy process where he had to look at his schedule, then I had to look at the time of Patrick’s show. We ended up with a tentative time at 4pm. Once that decision was made, Tom and Stef vanished, leaving Grand and me alone.

We were enjoying the quiet time when Grand’s phone rang. “It is your father,” he said. I started laughing.

“I told him to call you for details on the house,” I said.

“Thank you so very much,” he said sarcastically, then got up and walked into the other room to call Dad back.

I took that opportunity to call Patrick. “Hello,” he answered nervously.

“Hey,” I said pleasantly. “I need half an hour of your time today. You have time to stop by the hotel?”

“I thought we talked about that and decided that was a bad idea,” he said quietly, which meant he was probably where other people could hear him.

“If I’m asking you to do this, I must have a good reason, don’t you think?” I challenged.

“I can swing by the Bryant now. I’ll be there in half an hour,” he said, then hung up. My satisfaction over convincing him to talk to me faded quickly when I realized I only had limited time to get ready. I jumped up and went straight to the bathroom, and managed to pull myself together in 20 minutes. I went back out to find Grand sitting calmly on the couch.

“Patrick should be here in ten minutes,” I said. “Can I meet with him in here?”

“Of course,” Grand said. He remained seated, since there was no reason for him to leave until Patrick got here. “I spoke to your father.”

“And how did that conversation go?” I asked.

“He was very impressed with how you handled things,” he replied, causing me to raise an eyebrow. “He said he’d try to talk to you later.”

“Thanks,” I said. “He called me at two in the morning and I wasn’t at my best,” I said.

“I shouldn’t wonder,” he said.

“Is something bothering him?” I asked.

Grand thought about that for a second, then responded. “I don’t know, but he has been out of sorts lately.”

“I told him that he usually only caused me problems like this when his own life was fucked up,” I said.

“Perhaps we can find out what his current annoyance is about, assuming it still exists, when we get back,” he said, giving my father and his drama a back-handed slap. I laughed.

“Perhaps,” I said. The bell to the suite rang, and that was our cue to get up. He went into the bedroom, while I went to answer the door. “Hey,” I said to Patrick, and held the door open to let him in. He was dressed really well today, which was to be expected since he’d probably be getting ready for his show and alternately hobnobbing with other people.

“Hi,” he said, and breezed in. “What’s so important?” I was about to blast him for being snitty, but this was a busy and high stress time for him, so I let it pass.

“I think I solved your problem,” I said.

“Problem?”

“With Johnny Falco,” I said.

“Why are you involved in that?” he demanded. “Fuck. My lawyers are all over me to just lay low about the whole thing.”

“Alright,” I said casually, as I sat on the sofa. “I’ll let him go ahead and sue you.”

“I don’t need this right now,” he said.

“I thought that having this weight off your shoulders would make things easier,” I said. “I was trying to help you out, even after you raped that dude.”

“I did not rape him,” he asserted strongly.

“No?” I challenged. “He told me the entire deal, at least from his perspective. No way he was ready for that, and you had to know that.”

“We just got carried away,” he said dismissively.

“We?” I challenged. “Did he tell you to stop? Did he say no?”

“Not that I remember,” he said. He was so full of shit.

“I know you well enough to know when you’re lying, and you’re lying. So quit bullshitting me,” I said.

“I’m not lying,” he objected. He could sense my anger was rising, and that calmed him down. “So how did you work things out?”

“It’s going to cost you half a million dollars, but not for another year, and you have to talk to him about it,” I said.

He pondered that for a minute, and actually smiled a bit. “That’s a lot of money, but it’s worth it, especially since I have a year to sock the extra cash away.”

“Did your lawyers think it would be cheaper?” I challenged.

“No, they thought it would be about double that amount,” he said, then seemed to realize what a total dick he’d been to me. “Thank you for jumping in and saving my ass.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “Mark your calendar for tomorrow at 4:00.”

“Tomorrow?” he asked. “I’ve got a shitload of things to do. That’s right after my show. I’ll be swamped talking to people.”

“Your show ends at 11. Mark your calendar for tomorrow at 4:00,” I repeated firmly.

He pulled out his calendar and looked at it, then frowned. “Alright.” He scribbled some notes on it. “What happens then?”

“Johnny said that in his family, when two people have a big fucking issue like this, they sit down with each other, and two other impartial people, and talk things through. The goal is to resolve the issue,” I said.

“I am not going to talk about this in front of some of his idiotic family members,” he said, almost a yell. “No way they’d be impartial.”

“You won’t be,” I said. “My grandfathers have agreed to do it.”

“That’s almost worse,” he said.

“This is the price you have to pay to put this behind you,” I said. “If you don’t show up, then the deal is off.”

“They’re all just going to assume I’m guilty,” he grumbled.

“Look douchebag,” I said loudly, finally losing my cool. “They probably will, because you pinned a 16-year-old virgin down and stuck your big dick in his ass, all but ripping him a new one. I don’t get why that doesn’t bother you at all. Shit, if I were you, I’d be trying to think of ways to help him recover from what I put him through. Instead, you’re just worried that it will be uncomfortable, and take up some of your precious time.”

“I do feel bad,” he insisted.

“Then you better work on showing that side of you, and not the side of you that doesn’t care about anyone else,” I spat.

He sighed. “I’ll do that.”

I got up and walked to the door and he followed me. “I’ll see you tomorrow at 4.”

He was about to storm out, but he paused for a second, and it was like I could see the wheels in his brain working. “After I leave here, probably in about ten minutes, I’m going to think about what you did and I’m really going to appreciate it,” he said sincerely. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, relenting. He left and I shut the door behind him. No sooner had I sat down when Grand came strolling out of the bedroom. I looked at him in a penetrating way. “You were eavesdropping.”

He was going to deny it, but finally caved to my knowing look. “I do not think that sitting in a chair in my room, listening to ambient noise, counts as eavesdropping,” he replied loftily.

“You’re almost as good at justifying things as Patrick,” I said in a joking way.

“Would you like to hear my take on this?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, but it sounded more like ‘duh’.

“His words were unfeeling, but I sense a lot of guilt and anguish in his voice,” he said. “In this situation, I think it is probably more important for him to try and work things out with Johnny than it is for Johnny.”

I thought about that and nodded. “I can see that.”

“It has been a while since I have been to the Museum of Modern Art,” he said. “I was thinking of visiting there. Would you care to join me?”

“Awesome,” I said. We got our jackets and left the hotel to spend a couple of hours at the museum.

We got there and, probably since it was early, it wasn’t very crowded. It was an incredible experience, to just wander around the museum with Grand, almost by ourselves, just chatting. “How do you feel about Patrick?” he asked me, as we stared at a Picasso.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Part of me wants to reach out to him, and part of me is repulsed by him.”

“I would think that this conference tomorrow would also be pretty important to you as well,” he said.

“Why?” I asked, even though I had an idea.

“Because until you work through your own feelings for Patrick, you’ll be in limbo, and I suspect that bothers you,” he said. He was right. That did bother me.

“I’m trying to decide whether to go help him with his show tomorrow morning,” I said.

“Did he ask you to do that?” Grand asked.

I shook my head. “He didn’t want me to, because he was afraid it would look worse if Johnny’s story got out.”

“We have talked in the past about men who have problems weighting them down, and that they would require a lot of patience on your part,” he said.

“Like Tony,” I said a bit glumly, then perked up. “That sucked, but now we’re in a good place.”

“I think it may be the same way with Patrick,” he said.

“I just don’t understand how he could do that to Johnny,” I said plaintively.

“That is why I think this meeting tomorrow will be quite enlightening,” he observed.

We were pretty much strolling down toward the entrance when I paused at the Jackson Pollock gallery. “Which painting in here is your favorite?” I asked.

“The art in here is truly exceptional, but I will be a bit mainstream and pick ‘Starry Night’ by van Gogh,” he said.

“Good choice,” I agreed.

“And what is yours?” he asked.

“This one,” I said, gesturing at one of the Pollack paintings.

“What is it about it that appeals to you?” he asked.

“You don’t like it?” I questioned.

“I like it, but I want to know why you like it,” he said.

I stared at it from a distance, then got up really close. “Up this close, there’s all these layers of paint that make it almost three dimensional, but if you back up, you can see the bigger concept he was going for.”

“That is a very astute observation,” he said, making me feel like a neophyte. “Perhaps much like this painting, the close-up complications that come from handsome men are part of what makes them so attractive.”

“Perhaps,” I lukewarmly agreed. We had a nice lunch after that and didn’t get back to the hotel until 2:30. When we walked into the suite, I wasn’t really surprised to find Stef in a meeting, but I was surprised by who he was meeting with: Chris Mendoza. Chris was a total alpha gay, the kind of guy who knew everything about the bar and club scene in New York. He’d had a fling or two with my father before he married Jake, but that was like ancient history. He was amazingly handsome and sexy, and his Puerto Rican heritage showed itself in his beautiful skin color and jet-black hair. “Hey there!” I said enthusiastically.

“Hey Will,” he said, his deep voice resonating as he spoke. He stood up and I gave him a monster hug, which he returned, and as we ended it, I winked at him. He rolled his eyes at me and went on to greet Grand.

“So, what are you doing here?” I asked.

“I was invited,” Chris said, then looked to Stef to explain.

“Chris has chosen to leave Triton and will be setting up a branch of Carruthers and Schluter in New York,” Stef said. “He’s been doing some extra work with our analysts, and after he spends about six months in California, we’ll start operations here.”

“That’s what you’ve kind of wanted to do all along, right?” I asked him.

“That’s been my plan,” he said.

“Well congrats!” I said pleasantly. “You can stay with us while you’re in California.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he said, which was kind of ridiculous unless there were some unresolved issues with him and my father.

“You’re not intruding, unless you plan to try and seduce my father,” I said, just to bug him.

“I’m not going to hit on him,” he said, showing his exasperation with me. “I know he’s all happy and in love.”

“Then you’re not intruding,” I said. “I want you to take me out tonight.”

“You do, do you?” he asked, letting his cocky New York attitude show.

“I do,” I said. “When you’re done with Stef, we can do dinner and hit the clubs.” I was being really assertive, and I wondered how he’d react to that.

“Alright,” he said, acting like it was a major chore. “Maybe I’ll take a personal day and just spend the night in the city.”

“You can stay here,” Stef offered. “We will not be using that bedroom.” He gestured at the room he and Grand had reserved for themselves. I could see him hesitating, so I gave him some shit to push him over the edge.

“Or you could stay with your mother,” I said, raising an eyebrow. Chris Mendoza was a total ‘momma’s boy’.

“Thanks,” he said to Stef, ignoring me. Grand gave him a key, while I went back to my room to get ready. Stef had picked out all my clothes here, so I sorted through them until I found my favorite pair of jeans and an awesome shirt that was part mesh, part leather, and part accent chains. I put on a black long sleeve shirt over it, then stared in the mirror. If the clothes weren’t so chic, and my hair wasn’t so stylish, I’d look totally goth. That made me laugh, and I kept that happy mood as I went out to the suite to meet Chris.

“You look good,” he said, as his eyes ran up and down my body.

“I always look good,” I said being cocky.

“Where do you want to eat?” he asked.

“That place we went to last time,” I said, referring to the Puerto Rican place his mother had recommended. My father had ended up talking to her on this bus tour we were on, and she’d taken us to this awesome restaurant.

“We can do that,” he said. We went down to the lobby and found the Maybach waiting. That almost made me laugh, since JJ would be furious that I had his car again. We got in and Chris told the driver where the restaurant was. “I figured you’d want to go somewhere fancier.”

“Dude, I just want to have a nice dinner,” I said. “If you want to go somewhere else, though, that’s fine with me.”

“No, I’m good with that,” he said.

“Besides,” I said, smirking at him, “maybe your mom will show up.”

“Fuck you,” he said.

“Later,” I said.

“That cannot happen,” he said in a determined way.

“Why?”

“Because I was with your dad,” he said. “That’s creepy.”

“Why?”

“What are you, three? Why why why,” he said.

“Three-year-olds repeat questions when people don’t answer them,” I said. “Adults do that too.”

“Seems like incest,” he said, making me laugh hysterically. He frowned at me, then changed the subject. “So, what’s our plan?”

“I figured we could have dinner then go to a club or two,” I said.

“It is fucking early,” he said. “Too early to go to a club.”

“Alright, then you can think of something else for us to do,” I said.

“Great,” he said. “I’m a fucking tour guide.”

“In a tricked out Maybach,” I said, smiling at him. He smiled back at me, acknowledging how cool this thing was. “So you decided to leave Triton?”

“I did well at Triton, and I could do better, but it’s kind of boring,” he said. “The Venture Capital business is way more exciting. I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“That why you latched onto my father?” I teased.

“Yeah, that’s why,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It was actually his idea, and he’s the one who paved the way for me to leave Triton on good terms.”

“Then I’d say he’s pretty impressed with your talents,” I said.

“That’s a big compliment, but I don’t want to fuck things up,” he said. Then the cylinders in my brain clicked together, and I got why he was a little freaked out being out with me.

“Dude, just so you know, no matter what you and I do or don’t do, unless you become a psycho and really hurt me, it won’t have an impact on your career at Caruthers and Schluter,” I said.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, acting all offended, like I’d called him a freak.

“What if I want you to,” I said, flirting.

“Still not gonna do it,” he said. “If you’re into that pain shit, I can take you to the leather bar, though.”

“I’m good,” I said, laughing.