by Andrew Grey
They went back to their chairs, and Malcolm and Hans made their way back to theirs.
“Thank you. That meant a lot to him.”
“How come he just happened to have a copy of my book?” Hans asked as they reached the table.
“Well, he reads all the time, but I may have told his grandmother that Zephyr would have need of it,” Malcolm answered. “He’s been through a lot, and after he was diagnosed, his grandmother threw herself into his care. This was her idea, and as you can see, the room is full of people who paid two hundred dollars a plate for the evening. Besides, have you ever made anyone so happy?”
“I don’t think so,” Hans answered. “He asked me all about each of the characters and if they were going to be in any more stories. It’s like they’re real to him.”
“Maybe when you’ve been through what he has, imagination becomes even more important. And you helped provide that.”
“Are you a friend of the family?”
“Of a sort. She’s been a client for years, but it was Zephyr and David who brought us closer. The two of them met during treatments. They were both on the same basic schedule, so they saw each other at the hospital, and leave it to David to strike up a friendship anywhere.” Malcolm was vaguely aware of the others around the table listening to him as servers set the plates. “Of course, I knew Claudette already, but over time we grew closer. Zephyr is her daughter’s only child, and Claudette has raised him since he was four after her daughter died. Claudette is quite a woman.”
He turned away and began to eat. He needed something to do as the grief got too close to the surface. Talking about loss always brought his own to the front, and he didn’t want to break down in front of his colleagues.
“It’s all right,” Hans whispered. “You aren’t alone.” Hans lightly squeezed his arm out of sight of the others, and Malcolm felt better.
Malcolm nodded and slowly looked up from his roast beef, hoping like hell the others hadn’t noticed. The fact that every set of eyes around the table was looking at him told Malcolm more than he needed to know.
“So once, when I was off the coast of South America, I was with a team diving on a wreck,” Hans said. “We were getting so close to our goal. We’d found some evidence that this particular ship had been carrying Spanish gold. We’d been diving on her for about three days and coming up with nothing, when this school of fish starts rolling and swooping all around us. They were stunning, and it was so cool.”
Malcolm wiped his eyes with his napkin, listening to Hans as the others were.
“Then the school scatters in all directions, and sure enough, a huge shark glides right nearby. This thing was massive, a Great White, and let me tell you, those teeth were something else. This guy was having a fish feast, and then he spied me. I was a sitting duck.”
“What did you do?” Carolyn asked breathlessly.
“I wasn’t too deep, so I sent up a screen of bubbles to try to hide and swam toward the boat. When I broke the surface, I was twenty feet or so from the boat. To this day I don’t know how I got back into it. The other men all swore that I’m living proof that you can walk on water.”
Everyone laughed, including Malcolm, and then they returned to their meals. Malcolm looked at Hans, thanking him with his eyes before eating once again. Hans responded with another light squeeze on his arm.
Light table conversation lasted through the rest of the meal, and then people began to mingle and work the room a little, talking and laughing. Malcolm made sure to say hello to the people he knew, received a few inquiries, and was promised that he’d be receiving some phone calls because his advice and expertise were required. That was the main purpose of these events for him, to be seen and meet people, in addition to helping the charity.
Half an hour after dinner, some of the tables were cleared away and a band began to play. Couples started making their way to the dance floor.
“Would anyone like a drink?” Howard asked before heading off toward the bar.
“I’ll be right back,” Hans said and pushed his chair back.
Malcolm watched him go and then glanced around the room, watching people. He saw that Claudette had dragged Zephyr onto the dance floor. They seemed to be having a decent time. Malcolm felt himself falling into another funk until he sensed someone standing beside him. He turned, and Hans extended a hand.
“You want to dance?” Malcolm asked. Hans nodded once and held his hand steady. Malcolm stood and took it, letting Hans lead him to the floor. Once they reached it, Malcolm pulled Hans into position and led him around the floor.
David had loved dancing, and it was an activity the two of them had enjoyed. Hans was terrific, and together they were respectable. “Thank you for earlier,” Malcolm said as he looked into Hans’s eyes.
“It was nothing.” Hans said as he pulled him a little closer. “You needed a few minutes, and I could give you that.”
“I had no idea things would still be so hard after all these months.”
“Everyone grieves at their own pace. You lost someone closest to your heart. You need to feel the pain, process it, and then let it go. It’s the last part that’s the hardest,” Hans continued, following him around the floor. “You know people are looking at us.”
“Not us, you. Mostly they’re wondering what a hot, handsome guy like you is doing dancing with an old wreck like me.”
Hans scoffed. “I think it’s the silver fox that’s getting all the attention.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You’re the one who looks completely edible in that tuxedo.”
Malcolm listened for any sort of signal that Hans was kidding and heard none.
“Come on.” He was finding that hard to believe. “My man-hunting days are long over.”
“I don’t think so,” Hans said, and he surprised Malcolm by running his fingers lightly over his cheek. “You have to realize that you’re an attractive man.”
“I’m way too old to be attractive,” Malcolm protested.
Hans rolled his eyes. “You don’t know what you are.” He stroked his face once again. “That’s what you need to find out. For many years you were Malcolm, David’s husband. Now you’re just Malcolm, and that’s hard to get used to. But you will.”
Malcolm wasn’t sure if Hans was right or not, but at the moment he was less concerned with things like that than he was with the warmth that spread from inside. It was like he’d been asleep for a long time and now he was starting to wake up. The song ended and another began, this one slower and quieter. Malcolm stopped, but Hans didn’t release him.
“Now it’s my turn to lead.” Hans tugged him closer until they were chest to chest, and Malcolm could feel Hans’s breath kissing his neck.
“Hans…,” Malcolm said, feeling a little panicky.
“It’s just a dance, and I’m willing to bet it’s been a long time since someone held you and was there just for you. I know what it was like to care for someone who’s ill, to have every ounce of your energy directed at him and his care. Just let go for a few minutes and let someone else care for you.”
Malcolm sighed and closed his eyes. He could do that, and it felt good to be held and touched again. He’d done plenty of holding when David was sick, but having someone understand that he needed to be held was so comforting. “Hans, I….”
“It’s all right. This is just a dance.”
“I was going to say that this….”
The word escaped him, but Hans simply tightened his hold a little bit, and Malcolm knew he understood. Malcolm closed his eyes and let the movement carry him to a happier place than he’d been in quite a while. He’d been living, but only just barely.
All too soon the song ended, and Hans let him go and stepped away. They walked back to the table and sat down. Most of the other seats were empty, with only Lyndon and his wife sitting together, talking softly.
“We were talking about Gary’s date,” Lyndon said quietly.
Malcolm had been wo
ndering if things would be strained after dancing, but obviously not. “She added nothing to the conversation and seemed to want to be anywhere but here.” It was unfortunate but true that Gary was so preoccupied with appearances that he’d need to have the best-looking date at the table.
“She was bored stiff and kept looking around the room.”
“Where are they now?”
“Gary is talking to a man over there,” Hans said, “and it looks like his date is much more interested in someone else.”
Hans tilted his head to the other side. Gary’s date—Malcolm couldn’t remember her name—was sitting at another table, making eyes at and laughing with another man. They seemed deep in conversation, and she looked happy, or at least engaged.
“What’s Gary doing?” Hans asked, and Malcolm turned to follow Hans’s gaze.
Gary was talking animatedly to a man in his early twenties. They seemed to be discussing something intently, and the young man looked about ready to punch Gary. Malcolm got up and hurried over just as Gary punched the younger man, catching him on the shoulder, and the young man used the momentum and let loose with his other fist, inadvertently catching Malcolm on the arm. Malcolm went down, sprawling on the gleaming marble museum floor, and instantly Hans was there beside him. Gary beat a hasty retreat, and the slugger apologized profusely and backed away. It was all a little surreal and a lot painful. Malcolm was sure his arm wasn’t broken, but pain shot up and down it for a few moments before it began to ease.
“Did you hurt anything besides your arm?” Hans asked, and Malcolm shook his head. “Can you get up?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine.” Malcolm got to his feet and slowly made his way back to the table and sat down. He cradled his arm, and Hans sat next to him. “I don’t have a clue what that was all about.”
“I can try to find out,” Hans said, but Malcolm shook his head. It would all come out when he went back to the office, he was sure. Thankfully the music had started again, and everyone seemed to be letting what happened fall away in deference to the occasion.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the man who’d hit him said just above the music. “You weren’t supposed to get in the way.”
He sat down nervously, and Hans rose and stepped in front of him.
“It’s all right, Hans,” Malcolm said, warmed by Hans’s protective nature. “What was going on?”
“Gary…. He….” The man looked around. “He was here with my girlfriend. Now former girlfriend, I guess. What she sees in him, I have no idea, but….” He grabbed a napkin off the table and twisted it in his hands. “He’s such a weasel.”
At least that answered the earlier question. “Why wasn’t your girlfriend here with you tonight? Didn’t you ask her?”
“I’m here for a work thing, and they didn’t have extra tickets….”
“Did it ever occur to you that the reason she came with Gary was to make you jealous? She obviously wanted to come, so….”
He shrugged. “Well, I came over to apologize again.” He stood and walked away.
“You know, Mal,” a friend said from behind him, “I know a good personal injury lawyer if you need one.”
“Gee, thanks,” Malcolm quipped back with a smile, glad he could laugh about it. His arm still hurt, but he knew it was best to try to put it behind them so the incident didn’t cloud the evening.
It seemed Gary was nowhere to be found, and when Hans got Malcolm a glass of water and a double Scotch, Malcolm drank both and sat back.
“What are you thinking about?”
Malcolm groaned. “That like it or not, I just became the senior partner at Warren, Hanlan, and Webber. The partners are all going to want Gary’s head on Monday, and I won’t be able to stop it. We need a senior partner, and they all want me for the job.” He stood up. “Is it okay if we leave?”
“Whatever you want to do,” Hans said.
Malcolm handed Hans the coat check, and he went to get them.
“You all right?” a man asked.
Malcolm nodded.
“I’ve been meaning to come talk to you, but you always seemed occupied, and I didn’t want to interrupt. I’m Taylor Donovan. My company is having a problem, and I believe I need your help.”
Malcolm extended his good hand and then reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a card. “Please call my office first thing on Monday, and I’ll be happy to talk to you. I know I have some time.” He smiled and met Taylor’s intense gaze. This was a man on a mission, and a man who was worried about something. That was clear enough.
“Thank you,” Taylor said with a half smile and then turned away, sliding the card into his pocket.
Hans returned, and Malcolm carefully put on his coat. Then, after saying good-bye to a few people, he and Hans left for the evening, making their way back out into the cold and across the bridge to the parking structure. “I should drive,” Hans said as they reached the car. “You just had a double scotch, and I haven’t had anything to drink in a while.”
Malcolm handed over his keys and directed Hans back to his house. He didn’t give much thought at that point to how Hans was going to get home. All he wanted was to get home himself, take something for the ache in his arm, and go to bed.
By the time they reached his house, the alcohol had kicked in fully. Malcolm was warm from the inside, and his head was a little swimmy. Maybe it was the drink or the endorphins from the pain. It could also be the gentle touch Hans had as he helped him inside and got him settled in a chair.
“I’m going to be fine.”
“I know that. But you can’t drive, and I don’t want to take your car.” Hans went into the kitchen, returned with a couple of glasses of water, and handed one to him. Then he sat on the sofa near him. “You’re an interesting man, Malcolm.”
“Why? I always thought I was boring.” He sipped some water and set the glass on a coaster on the side table.
“Then you’re wrong. You have a heart, and when it comes down to it, a spine of steel. You’re willing to try to help someone attain his dream, even if he isn’t able to keep it.”
“Gary?” Malcolm asked.
“He wanted to be senior partner, and you helped get him elected and gave him a chance. It isn’t your fault that he didn’t make the most of it. He should have valued the gift you gave him.”
“What gift?” Malcolm wasn’t sure what he meant.
“The chance. At some point in our lives, someone gives us a chance. Success is what we make of it. My first editor, Nicole, bought my first book, not because it was the greatest story ever written, but because she saw something in me. She published Undersea Inferno and then the next one, each getting better and better, selling more and more. She believed in me, and I made the most of her faith. You did the same thing for Gary, but he didn’t follow through, and that isn’t your fault. It’s his, and he’s the one who needs to own up to it when the time comes.”
Malcolm wasn’t sure Gary was capable of that. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that this whole thing was his fault for getting Gary’s hopes up. After all, he was the one who helped create this monster, and now he was going to have to deal with the fallout. Gary was certain to be removed by the other partners, and he could end up leaving the firm. Maybe that was for the best for all of them.
“Do you want me to take you home in a few hours?” Malcolm asked.
“That’s fine,” Hans said, and Malcolm got up and made his way to the kitchen. He took some painkillers he had in the cupboard. Then he found some snacks and brought them into the living room. When he returned, he took off his jacket and removed his tie before loosening his shirt. It felt good to be more comfortable. Hans did the same, and Malcolm found a movie to rent and sat on the sofa to be closer to the food.
“Thank God it’s the weekend.”
“I know exactly how you feel,” Hans said, and they both put their feet up as the movie started.
MALCOLM WASN’T sure how much he actually watched, but
he did wake up for the dramatic climax when Bruce Willis was about to take out the bad guy. Hans had fallen asleep as well and was leaning against him. Part of Malcolm told him he should move away, and the other half urged him to stay right where he was. Malcolm liked being close to someone, and Hans was nice. But he didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. Eventually Hans woke and straightened up slowly.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Malcolm said.
“Okay, I won’t.” Hans smiled and turned, leaning a little closer. “I know you aren’t ready, and I’m not going to push you, but I really like you, Malcolm.” He slowly moved his head closer. “You’re a wonderful guy, and I’ve been looking for someone like you for a very long time. I don’t have much luck with men, as my last relationship will attest, but I think my luck can change with you.”
“Hans, I…. It’s only been a year, and….”
“I know. So I’d really like to be friends.”
Malcolm could feel the energy coursing between them, and his better judgment told him that wasn’t the best idea. Not that he didn’t want to be friends with Hans, but he wasn’t sure it was possible to remain just friends. Already Malcolm was warm, and his heart beat a little faster just because Hans looked at him as though he was starving and Malcolm was a buffet lunch. Part of him wanted to give in and say to hell with it, but he knew it would end badly, and that wasn’t fair to him or to Hans. “I….” It was on the tip of his tongue to say no, but he ended up nodding.
“Excellent,” Hans said and then did the last thing Malcolm expected: he kissed him. Not hard, but it was enough to send Malcolm’s lips tingling.
“You usually kiss your friends?”
“Sorry.” Hans moved back. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was too much, and I did promise we could be friends.” Hans got to his feet. He put on his jacket and placed his tie in his pocket. Then he got his coat. “I don’t want to be a problem, but it’s probably best if you take me home.”
Malcolm thought that was best as well. He gathered the dishes and took them to the kitchen before getting his coat. As soon as they stepped out of the house, the cold assaulted Malcolm. Any residual effects of the Scotch were instantly gone. He locked the door and hurried down the walk to the car. Once they were buckled in, he started the car and pulled out.