Foolish Me Page 6

  “Look, we know it’s you. We’ll give you fifty bucks to blow us both.”

  “I said I’m not him.” I paused and looked them over. They were probably around my age but outweighed me by about fifty or seventy-five pounds. They wore jeans and flannel shirt jackets, and both sported fairly heavy five o’clock shadows. How had they gotten into this gym?

  “We say you are. And you’re gonna blow us!”

  My heart began pounding as the taller of the two reached for me.

  The next thing I knew, they were on the floor, clutching their balls and groaning in pain.

  Years ago, Tim had taught us how to protect ourselves. “Don’t try anything fancy, just go for the balls. And don’t worry about it being a betrayal of the brotherhood.”

  I tightened my grip on my gym bag and hurried out of the locker room, looking around for the day manager. “Sandy!”

  “Hey, hi! Good to see you!”

  “Same here. Uh…. There’s some trash in the locker room. You might want to get rid of it.”

  “Huh?” He opened the door and looked in, then scowled. “How the fuck did they get in here?”

  “I was wondering the same thing.”

  He went in and shut the door behind him. I chewed on my lower lip. How had they known who I was? I hadn’t recognized them. Would I have to find another gym?

  Sandy came out and locked the door behind him. “Fuck a duck. They’re undercover cops!”

  “They were… they were trying to coerce me.” I felt cold. “What precinct?”

  He told me, and I blew out a breath.

  I knew a cop who worked out of that precinct—he used to call me when he got lonely. I took out my cell phone and called him. “Jim, it’s Sweetcheeks. I’ve got a problem.”

  FORTUNATELY, JIM was in the vicinity and got to the gym faster than I’d expected.

  “Jim, I didn’t come on to them, I swear it! I’m not in the business anymore.”

  “Whatever, but either way, you’re out of their league. What they were thinking….” He shook his head, looking annoyed.

  “Are they going to come after me?”

  “Not after I get done talking to them.”

  “Sandy isn’t going to get in trouble, is he?”

  “For what? His locker room having a faulty lock? Go on home. I’ll take care of this, Sweetcheeks.”

  “Thank you!” I pulled Sandy aside and took a business card from my wallet. “If they do give you any kind of trouble, call this number. He’s my lawyer, and he’s a damned good one. Thank you!” I said again.

  Shit happened. I got out of there. I didn’t want to be late.

  A FEW years before, I’d learned that the principal of a local high school had not only allowed a Gay-Straight Alliance to be formed on campus, but had gone up against a group of parents when one of his students wanted to bring his boyfriend to the prom as his date.

  The boys and I had discussed it. One of our stocks had split and paid well, and I’d taken part of the dividend and donated a couple of computers to the school’s computer lab, although I’d made it a point to keep our form of employment a secret.

  That got us on the school’s mailing list, which we’d receive a few times during the year.

  The most recent newsletter announced the senior class production of Much Ado About Nothing. I’d bought tickets and had hoped to go with Wills, but since he was away, I decided to go alone.

  After dinner, I showered and changed into a black Jos. A. Bank Signature Gold suit with a burgundy pocket square that matched my tie, made sure I had my wallet, keys, and cell phone, and headed out.

  THE PLAY was a delight, and afterward I went backstage to compliment the students and their drama teacher, who was very attractive, as well as very gay. If I hadn’t had Wills in my life, I’d have been tempted to ask if Mr. Rossi would have a drink with me, but as it was, I simply told him how much I’d enjoyed the production, shook his hand, and left.

  It was only a little after ten, and all that was waiting for me at home was an empty bed, so I decided to stop by Around the Bend, a rent boys bar, for a drink or two.

  I parked on the street, opened the door, and walked in. It was dimly lit and not too crowded, the reason for both due to the fact it was the middle of the week.

  A long, low wolf whistle greeted me, and I struck a pose and then went to the bar.

  “Hey, Sweets. Long time no see.” The bartender grinned. “Your usual?”

  “Hi, Russ. No, let me have a Coke.” Since I’d taken the car, I’d lay off the hard stuff. Wills had rubbed off on me.

  “Don’t you look tasty!”

  I turned and faced one of the newer rent boys, who went by the name of Grand Prix.

  “Sweetcheeks! It’s you.” He had brown hair and brown eyes, but they were nothing like my lover’s.

  “Hello, Geep. Does that mean you don’t think I look tasty?”

  “Truthfully? I’d do you so fast it’d make your head spin! Word is you’ve got a tight little ass. At least that’s what Charlemagne says. I’d like to see for myself. Wanna step into the men’s room?” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

  I was taken aback. I had no idea Charlemagne was still talking about the few hours we’d spent together.

  “So, what do you say?”

  “I say no thanks. I’ve got a guy, and I won’t screw around on him.”

  He shrugged. “Your loss.”

  “I didn’t expect to see you here on a work night.”

  “I could say the same for you. Aren’t you out of the business?”

  “Yes, I am, but I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by for a drink.”

  “Here’s your Coke, Sweets. That gentleman is buying.” He nodded toward the end of the bar. An older man sat there, raising his drink and looking hopeful.

  “Excuse me a minute.” I took the glass and joined the man. “Thank you for the soda.”

  “You didn’t want something stronger?”

  “I’m driving.”

  “Oh, but…. You’re Sweetcheeks, aren’t you? I thought I heard that boy call you that.”

  “I stopped using that name. I’m no longer in the business.”

  Now he looked like he was going to cry. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right.” I sat down next to him and touched his arm. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I… I’ve never done this.” And a tear actually slid down his cheek. “I’m fat and bald and—”

  “You’re not.” Oh, he was a little overweight, and his hair was thinning, but he had a sweet expression on his face. “And you think the only way you can get a boy is by buying him?”

  “Yes. I heard you were kind and took care of your… your….”

  “My clients?” I didn’t know who told him that, but I was pleased to have such a reputation. “What would you like me to call you?”

  “You’ll spend the night with me?” he asked hopefully.

  “No. I’m with someone now.” He looked around the bar, and I wouldn’t laugh at him. “I mean I’m in a relationship.”

  His shoulders slumped. “Then what does it matter what my name is?”

  “I’m going to introduce you to someone.”

  “Yes? My name is—”

  “I don’t think you want to use your real name.”

  His eyes widened. “I… I never thought… I don’t know what to use!”

  “I think you look like a Martin. Is that okay with you?” He nodded, and I glanced around. “Kory!”

  A slim rent boy in his midtwenties sauntered over. “Hi, Sweets.” And although he spoke to me, he let his gaze run over Martin. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’d like you to meet Martin. Would you take care of him?” I leaned close and whispered in his ear, “Treat him well, okay? I think he’s new to our side of the lake.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure.” Kory smiled at him and held out his hand. “Hello, Martin. My name is Kory. May I join you for a drink?”


  I left them there, but before I could decide where I wanted to sit, Grand Prix sidled up to me and latched onto my arm.

  “That was a waste of a perfectly good john,” he said, urging me toward a table at the rear. “If you’re pimping now, you could have tossed him in my direction.”

  “Did you really want him?”

  “God, no! He’s short, fat, and bald, and probably has bad breath in the bargain—”

  “Actually, he doesn’t.”

  “—but a buck’s a buck.”

  I took his fingers off my arm. “So what are you doing here, Geep?”

  “I’m schmoozing. Come on and join us.” He gestured toward the largest table, which was crowded with rent boys. “Another round, guys?” They nodded, and he raised his hand. “Russ, drinks for my constituents.”

  “Constituents?” I nodded to the boys, greeting them, and pulled up a chair. The way they looked at me made my skin crawl, but that was ridiculous. I knew these guys.

  “I’m running for Le Roi.”

  “Good luck.” It was an expensive proposition, which I remembered not only from when I’d run, but from my year as Le Roi.

  “Do you mean that?”

  I took a sip of my soda so I wouldn’t have to answer him.

  “’Cause I could really use your help, Sweets.”

  “How?”

  “Like I said, Charlemagne speaks highly of your talents. All the boys know it, and they all want a piece of you.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. If I can give you to them, they’ll vote for me.”

  “You’re fucking out of your mind! I’ve got a guy, and I have no intention of—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I heard. But I’ll make it worth your while.”

  I pushed the chair back and got to my feet, angrier than I could ever remember being. “You couldn’t afford me.”

  “There’s more to life than money. I’ll give you a position in my court. A very high position!”

  “No.” How could he even think I’d do something like that? “And if I hear you’re promising my favors to anyone, I’ll track you down and beat the shit out of you.” To a man, the rent boys’ jaws had all dropped. “Good night.”

  And I walked out.

  I FELT… filthy… and even the hottest shower I could stand didn’t help.

  After the debacle of last spring, there wasn’t a bottle of any kind of alcohol in the house, other than the occasional bottle of wine or beer.

  No, wait a second. There wasn’t any here, but downstairs…?

  I yanked on a pair of jeans and ran out of the apartment. There were cars parked in front of the house, so the ladies would all be on the first floor, entertaining.

  As I approached the door, I could hear laughter and conversation. Shoot, Gus had said something about them having an orgy. I’d started to turn away when the door was flung open.

  “I’ll get the presents— Whoa!” A blond barreled into me. “Sorry, dude.” He gazed up and down my body and grinned. “Well, hello. Care to join us?”

  “No, thanks. I just wanted to ask the ladies if I could borrow a bottle of something.”

  “Sure. Come on in. I like your barbell.” He stared at my pierced nipple, and I suddenly realized I was not only barefoot but shirtless as well.

  “Hey, The—Sw—uh… what’s up?”

  Of course Gus wouldn’t know how to address me. I probably looked like the epitome of a rent boy, which I was no longer supposed to be.

  “Do you have a spare bottle of Jack? Or Dewar’s?” I remembered what Vince had said the night he’d gone to bed with Pretty Boy, but I wasn’t going to ask for rubbing alcohol.

  “Will Canadian Club do?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll get it.” She sauntered to the wet bar, a sway to her butt, drawing the blond’s attention to her. Fortunately, she didn’t take her time. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” I cradled the bottle in my arms and started for the door.

  “Why don’t you stay?” the blond asked, blocking my way. “We were just going to open our presents. I wouldn’t mind opening you.”

  “Sorry. I’m waiting for a phone call.”

  “Go, Theo. It’s okay.”

  “Thanks, Gus. I’ll replace this tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure I can’t persuade you to stay, Theo?” Shit. Now he knew my name.

  “Let it go, Eddie. He’s got a very possessive boyfriend who carries a very big gun.” Gus patted my shoulder, then gave me a push to get me out the door. I didn’t care if it was to save my neck or because the last thing the ladies would want was a guy muscling in on their clients.

  I took the hint and bolted out of the apartment.

  “Now, I believe you said something about presents,” she said coquettishly to Eddie.

  I took the stairs two and three at a time, careful not to drop the bottle of whiskey, and in less than a minute, I’d reached the apartment. The door was open. Shit. How had I not noticed?

  The hell with that. I skidded into the entryway, slammed the door shut, and made sure I threw the lock.

  I felt even dirtier, and I put on a sweatshirt. I took the bottle into the kitchen, found a glass, and poured myself a couple of fingers. Then I said, “Screw it!” I filled the glass and knocked it back, coughing and choking as it burned its way down to my gut.

  I WAS cold. The level of whiskey in the bottle had dropped to about half, but it wasn’t doing any good. I pulled a throw out of the linen closet and wrapped it around myself. I didn’t want to go to bed, so I went into the living room and turned on the television. The Big Chill was on—Wills’s favorite movie. I wished he were here to watch it with me.

  On second thought, maybe it was just as well he wasn’t. There was no way I could conceal what had happened today.

  Maybe I just couldn’t escape the fact that I was a whore. Franky had thought so all those years ago. Those cops thought I could be had for the taking. Martin had hoped I was, Grand Prix sure as hell wanted to use me, and the blond downstairs would have been happy if I’d joined in the threesome or foursome or sixsome.

  Why would Wills want to be involved with someone like me? He was the epitome of the clean-cut all-American boy who could get whoever he wanted. Why would he want me?

  But if he ever turned his back on me… I didn’t think I’d survive it.

  MY FACE was wet with tears when I woke up. I was sprawled on the couch, tangled up in the throw. What…. Oh, yeah, I remembered. I’d dreamed that Wills used a misunderstanding as an excuse to walk away from what we had.

  Although wasn’t alcohol supposed to help you forget?

  I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep the whiskey I’d had the night before from spewing all over the couch. We’d used the money Pretty Boy and Spike had earned from tricking with Delilah to buy it, and I didn’t want to replace it so soon. My head pounding didn’t help in any way whatsoever.

  Added to that, my nose was clogged and I had to breathe though my mouth, which tasted as if it had been stuffed with old gym socks.

  I tried to wipe the tears from my cheeks, but I had to struggle to free myself from the throw.

  Jesus Christ. What made me think drinking half a bottle of Canadian Club was a smart way to erase the memory of what had happened yesterday? Yeah, I remembered that too.

  The television was still on. Good Morning America.

  The house phone rang, and I jumped and toppled off the couch, landing awkwardly on my butt. Jesus, I hoped I hadn’t broken my tailbone. That had happened to one of the boys, and he’d been in serious pain.

  The phone continued to ring—had I forgotten to charge my cell phone again?—and I scrambled for it. “Who… what… hullo?”

  “Hi, babe.”

  “Wills! Oh, baby, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

  “Huh?”

  “Please, please don’t leave me!”

  “Theo, what are you talking about?”

  “Uh….” What was I talking ab
out? I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Sorry, babe. I just woke up, and my brains are out to lunch.”

  He was quiet for a minute, and I thought I was going to throw up for real. “Theo, I’m not leaving you. Have you got that?”

  I took a shuddering breath. “Okay. So why… uh… are you calling so early?” Usually I didn’t hear from him until after dinner.

  “I’m on my way home. I’m at the airport right now.”

  “But… but the job….”

  “I finished earlier than I thought I would. The… uh… regional manager was pleased with my work.”

  “And you’re coming home?” I felt giddy, such a change from only a few minutes earlier. “That’s fantastic, babe.”

  “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” He sounded so proud. Well, I was so proud!

  “What time will your flight land? I’ll come pick you up.” Since I’d driven him to Dulles, his car had been parked in front of our house the entire time.

  “I’m supposed to get in about three.”

  I looked at the clock. It was 8:27 a.m. “But isn’t there just a one-hour time difference?”

  “Yeah, but I have to make two separate connections, one of them in Cincinnati. It was the only flight I could book that would get me home today. If that doesn’t say ‘I love you,’ I don’t know what does, babe.”

  “And I appreciate it. What’s your flight information? I’ll come pick you up,” I said again.

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll catch a cab. I’ll have to go to work and get the paperwork done, and I’m not sure how long that will take me.” There was a muffled sound in the background. “I have to go. They’re calling my flight.”

  “Wills….” I swallowed. “Wills, I….”

  “I know, babe. I love you too. I’ll see you later.”

  “Have a safe flight.”

  “Thanks. Bye, Theo.”

  “Bye, babe.” If it wasn’t so sappy, I would have blown him a kiss over the phone. Instead, I hung up and used my sleeves to dry my cheeks. I still felt a little sick.

  I turned off the television, folded the throw, and then shambled my way to the bathroom, where I brushed my teeth, took a couple of Tylenol with a whole glass of water, and went to bed.