Mixed Signals

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Mixed Signals Page 22

by Cooper West


  Benjamin’s expression instantly turned earnest and happy. “Okay.”

  “Okay.” Frank kissed his knuckles, then let him have his hand back. They sat at the table for two hours, talking and making sandwiches, until they both felt tired enough to go back to bed. Frank was pretty sure it was the best “morning after” of his life.

  Epilogue

  FRANK THOUGHT that Benjamin and Rachel looked far more stressed-out than any of the Sheldons. Sitting on the literal edges of their seats, they kept their eyes glued to the television screen while Sheldons floated around them at the campaign headquarters. Nancy gave micro-interviews with the press, Warren held court over the last of the phone banks, and their father roamed around charming the moneyed supporters who were there to see and be seen at the expected party. Beya and Frank mostly stood around looking beautiful and giving good photo ops. Frank knew what he was worth on election night and played his role as he had been raised to do: charmingly, effortlessly, and quietly. Geoffrey, the traitor, was sitting in a corner reading a book and might as well have been invisible. Geoffrey and Beya’s girls were stashed with their babysitter at the family estate, but Alexandra was there, looking more grown-up by the second as she trailed behind Camila, soaking up the whole “adult” scene like a sponge. It made Frank’s heart ache a little.

  He wandered over to the Kaplan contingent. Rachel was glaring at the returns like she could set them on fire, Maddox’s hand heavy on her shoulder as he stood behind her with a weary but fond expression. Frank nudged at Benjamin’s knee with his own.

  “I’m busy!”

  Frank gently removed the hand from Benjamin’s mouth, where he had been gnawing on his thumbnail. Benjamin gave him a filthy look.

  “She’s ahead. She’s been ahead since Paulie bowed out and fell off the face of the planet. Her opponent is a nobody. She’s going to win, Benji.” Frank ran his fingers through Benjamin’s curls.

  Benjamin ignored the jib of his nickname and straightened up. “I know. But still. If she loses, everyone is going to blame me.”

  “Shut up, that makes no sense, shut up,” Rachel snapped at him. Maddox pulled her out of the chair.

  “C’mon, honey, let’s go do some photos ops with the pretty people,” he said, gently leading her toward the crowd.

  Frank took her vacated seat. “I like him,” he said approvingly.

  “Everyone likes him. He’s like the anti-Rachel. The Rachel antidote. The base to her acid, the—”

  Frank leaned over and kissed his boyfriend soundly on the mouth. “Cut it out. Nance is going to win, we’re going to stay up late partying with all these people we don’t know, and then I will take you home and fuck you senseless,” he whispered into Benjamin’s ear.

  Benjamin’s grin turned wicked. “Okay.”

  “And then tomorrow it will be the mandatory celebratory brunch at the country club as required by my father,” Frank added.

  “You are such an asshole. I hate your family. I did not wear suits and ties this often when my parents were on their back-to-schul kick when I was twelve.”

  Frank squinted. “Do you even belong to a synagogue?”

  “No. Did I mention the part where I was twelve? I had to do my bar mitzvah and then whoosh! We only went back for high holidays. Also we’ve been together for months now. Have I ever talked about going to services? No? That should be a hint.”

  Frank did the math. “Rachel never did it, did she?”

  “What?”

  “The bar mitzvah thing.”

  “Bat. Bat mitzvah, for girls, and no. I asked, she said no. I respected that.”

  Frank tilted his head. “Well, you know, if you ever want to go, I’m game, I—”

  “Stop distracting me!” Benjamin yelled, and several people looked over. Benjamin fumed. “I know what you’re doing,” he hissed.

  “Talking to my boyfriend?” Frank tried to paste on his most charming smile.

  “Sweet-talk all you want, Francis. I am here watching the returns,” Benjamin said, pointedly turning to put all his focus back on the television in his line of sight.

  Sighing, Frank got up to avail himself of more photo ops. He talked to Beya for a while, who at least felt his pain, and then it was time for the final tallies to come in. A few counties weren’t going to report for a while, but the majority were in and, as expected, Nancy won by a landslide.

  Even after Paulie had bowed out in disgrace, disowned by his father and his political party, Nancy had fought a hard campaign. The guy who had essentially inherited Paulie’s campaign was not much of a threat, but a lot of money was being thrown around, and Nancy wanted to appear as having won a mandate (which by current political standards was a deviance of 2 percent or something, at least how Benjamin had explained it). But Nancy had won, as Frank knew she would, and then he had an armful of Benjamin yelling and screaming. He twirled him around and he noticed at least one reporter holding up her camera, so he planted a deep, wet kiss on Benjamin’s mouth.

  Benjamin blinked at him as Frank released him. “What was that for?”

  “Posterity,” Frank said, smiling.

  They fought their way over to where Nancy was beaming like the sun, Warren’s arm over her shoulders as she talked to a microphone, congratulating the team. Camila was behind her, openly weeping, while Todd anxiously kept handing her tissues.

  “Francis,” his father said quietly as Frank sidled up to him, Benjamin in tow. “You did well, son.”

  “I didn’t get my discharge reviewed,” he said. Benjamin not-subtly poked him in the ribs with his elbow.

  “You were only doing that for my sake anyway.” His father shrugged.

  “How did—”

  “Every day since Nancy was born, I have had to live with the knowledge that all my children think I’m an idiot,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Of course I knew why you were doing it. But I thought it might help you get over your rage and disappointment.” He leaned back and studied Frank with a keen eye. “Which you have, anyway. All’s well that ends well.”

  Frank tried not to groan.

  “Hey, Alex, we still on for that meeting on Wednesday?” Benjamin asked, leaning into the conversation.

  “Of course.”

  Frank frowned. “Wait, are we having another project meeting for OTL? I thought everything was green-lit for farming out machining on the mock-up.”

  “What? No, I mean, yes, that’s all a go.” Benjamin looked at him like he was off his rocker.

  “Then what—”

  “Version .234 of the beta is live now and your father wants to get on it.”

  “Beta tester number oh-three!” Frank’s father said, preening. “And that’s out of over a thousand at this point. It’s a good thing that I got in on the ground floor.” He laughed and Frank really did groan. “I can’t wait to play the latest version.” He put his hands out in front of him like he was holding a game controller, and his face lit up. “I think I can make it past level fourteen this time!”

  “I know we can!” Alexandra said, coming up to them and tucking herself under her grandfather’s arm. “I think I got that trap door figured out.”

  “Ah ah ah! Wait until you try again before you say that!” Benjamin grinned at them, smug and self-satisfied.

  “I don’t know any of you.” Frank threw his hands up in defeat and headed over to talk to Nancy, who was huddled with Beya, Warren, and Camila. “At last, I found the sane people. Oh, sorry, wrong: Nancy’s here.”

  “Ha. Ha.” Nancy groaned the words, leaning heavily on Warren. “I know I’m supposed to be high on adrenaline and happiness, but I want to crawl under a desk with a bottle of wine and not wake up for a week.”

  “That’s because you’re old,” Frank said solemnly.

  “If there weren’t cameras on us, I would totally punch you right now.”

  “Children,” Beya said with a roll of her eyes. She then softened her expression and turned her beatific gaze on Nancy. “You deserve some r
est. You have been going so hard on this campaign! You have earned a break.”

  “We’ll hit the beach once our obligations are done with the campaign wrap-up. Long weekend. How about it?” Warren kissed Nancy’s temple.

  Nancy gave him a watery, exhausted smile, and Warren hugged her close. He looked over at Frank. “How’s it feel to be gainfully unemployed again?”

  Frank shrugged. “I’m busy with the flying car start-up, so I’m hardly bored. And I’m still emergency on-call for LifeFlight, if they need a pilot on short notice.”

  Beya put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s such good work you do there. I’m glad you did not walk away from it entirely.”

  “Doing it full-time was getting to me, but I’m happy I can pitch in when needed,” he agreed. “I just needed more time for the venture.”

  “Heads up,” Warren said quietly. Frank looked around and saw one of the major news network’s team pushing toward them with cameras and lighting and a reporter wielding a microphone. Frank took that as his cue to slip away and go look for his boyfriend again.

  Benjamin had found Rachel and Maddox, and they were all standing by a now-abandoned phone station desk, talking quietly. Frank snuck up on Benjamin and startled him by kissing his cheek.

  “Sorry, but I’m here to steal my man away.”

  “Go forth and conquer, my friend,” Maddox said, holding out his hand for a fist bump.

  “Ew, guys, stop,” Rachel whined, waving them off.

  Frank laughed, dragging Benjamin behind him, who, predictably, complained about it. Frank waved at Todd as they left the campaign headquarters, figuring he would tell everyone that Frank and Benjamin had ducked out. A few people snapped photos of them, but they made it to Frank’s car without much delay. Frank got in and pulled out onto the roads while Benjamin fought to undo his tie as if it was a live snake trying to strangle him.

  “I thought we’d stay later than that,” Benjamin said when he managed to open the top buttons of his shirt.

  “Nah. Nancy’s beat, so I suspect she will shut it down fairly soon. I mean, everyone who actually worked on the campaign is exhausted. I think Camila has been freebasing coffee or something; she hasn’t slept in days. We won’t be missed anyway.”

  “Thank fuck. That was stressful! I am so thrilled that you do not want to go into politics; it would—hey wait, where are we going?” Benjamin looked out the windows. “I thought we were going to spend a wild night of hedonism at your bachelor pad.”

  Frank squinted at Benjamin for a moment. “How can it be my bachelor pad if I’m bringing my steady boyfriend there?”

  “It’s an aesthetic.” Benjamin waved a hand around. “And anyway, since you are not currently bringing me there, your point is moot.”

  “True.”

  Benjamin waited all of thirty seconds before exploding. “So where are we going, then?”

  “And you’re supposed to be the smart one?”

  Benjamin glared at him but took the challenge, looking out at traffic. “We’re going to the executive airport?”

  “Night flight,” Frank said, trying unsuccessfully not to smirk.

  Benjamin’s eyes got wide, and his mouth dropped open. “Really? We’re going up?” His expression was one of pure glee. “Oh. Oh, I love you.”

  Frank’s smile turned smug, and he didn’t even care.

  By the time they were walking up to the plane, the sun had set and the sky was a wide expanse of brilliant purples and faded reds, turning slowly into the indigo of nighttime. Benjamin grabbed Frank’s hand. “We haven’t been flying in a month! I’m so glad that damn campaign is over. We never had a free minute after work.”

  Which was true, Frank thought ruefully. Alex had convinced Benjamin to develop the plans for his flying cars himself, mostly by forking over hundreds of millions of dollars, which of course had news sites in an uproar given the connection to Paulie’s downfall and Benjamin’s relationship with Frank. The irony of MudzNewz dragging its former owner because of business ties was not lost on anyone, but Benjamin mostly seemed to find it hilarious. He had turned around and invested 90 percent of his significant salary into R/M, Rachel and Maddox’s beauty business (Maddox had been working at a restaurant to make ends meet after getting a degree in retail marketing and management, which in both Kaplans’ opinions was “a crime” and immediately installed him with a hefty salary as a business partner). In Benjamin’s “spare” time, he had worked his ass off on the video game project, ironically the one project likely to start turning a profit the soonest of everything, which Frank thought was a cosmic joke on him. Meanwhile, Frank had spent more time than he really wanted stumping for his sister’s campaign.

  It was a relief to leave all that behind for a while and just head up into the sky. He was the pilot, since he did not want to stress them both out by turning it into a training lesson, and they tucked into their seats with smiles on their faces. Frank took off and pulled up the flight plan he had registered earlier that day. Benjamin, fortunately, was too busy bouncing in his seat, looking out at the world as it descended into darkness below, to notice.

  “I wanted to talk to you about something,” Frank said into the mic after they had reached a good cruising altitude that still gave them a wonderful view of nightfall.

  “Uh-oh,” Benjamin said, instantly on the alert. “Why do I feel like another family dinner at the ‘estate’ is in my future?” He grimaced, the scare quote around “estate” clear in his tone.

  “Probably. But for different reasons than you think. Do me a favor and check out the door pocket.”

  Benjamin glanced at him suspiciously but reached in and pulled out the small, flat box hidden there. He looked at it, confused, turning it over in his hands. “USB flash drive?”

  “Just open it, for fuck’s sake,” Frank said, eyes forward.

  Benjamin slowly opened it. It unfolded in a clever way so that the ring inside popped up, glistening brightly from the lights of the control panel.

  “What.” Benjamin stared at it.

  Frank cleared his throat, made sure autopilot was safely engaged, then turned enough in his seat to look at Benjamin. “Benjamin Arvad Kaplan, will you do me, Francis Devonshire Sheldon III, the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?”

  Benjamin looked up at him and squeaked.

  “Was that a yes?” Frank tilted his head.

  “Yes it is yes! Yes! Holy shit! This is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me, you asshole!”

  “Keep up with the sweet talk, I won’t be able to control myself.” Frank chuckled, his grin almost painful but impossible to tone down.

  Benjamin growled and grabbed him by the nape of his neck to pull him in for a kiss, which ended with feedback through their headphones as their microphones collided. “Ow! Dammit!” Benjamin shoved the mics out of the way and plastered a kiss on Frank’s mouth.

  Frank pushed him back after a too-short moment and checked the controls, just in case. Benjamin grinned at him and slipped the ring out of the box. “Hey.” He held it out to Frank, who turned and slipped it on Benjamin’s finger. It was a slim, low-profile gold ring with a ruby baguette laid flush in a deco setting, and it looked beautiful against Benjamin’s skin. “Wow. This is gorgeous.”

  “Yeah, well, Rachel picked it out.” Frank shrugged.

  Benjamin laughed. “Of course she did. You had this planned for how long?” He held out his hand and stared at the ring.

  Frank did not say the truth, but instead just shrugged again.

  “You romantic dork. I love you.” Benjamin reached over and grabbed Frank’s hand, tangling their fingers together as they soared through the endless skies.

  More from Cooper West

  Professor Jesse Ford feels like a failure in both love and life. He’s moved home to live over his mother’s garage after his previous relationship ended in heartbreak and a minor academic scandal, derailing his career. Tired and disappointed, he holes up to lick his wounds and conce
ntrate on his next book, determined to avoid anything having to do with love or romance.

  Jesse starts to change his mind when he meets Templeton, the beautiful and engaging punk rocker working as a short order cook at their small town’s popular diner. Templeton, a talented musician, is back in town after escaping from his abusive boyfriend back in Seattle where they had tried to start a band. Encouraged by friends and family, Jesse and Templeton realize they can’t fight their mutual attraction.

  The two men from very different worlds decide they might have a chance, but they find their tentative romance threatened by the many secrets Templeton is keeping, and Jesse’s own bruised heart. When Templeton’s dangerous ex shows up, both Templeton and Jesse have to decide whether their fledgling relationship can withstand facing the demons of their pasts.

  Gary Winston is a professional musician with a debilitating problem: stage fright. Between his failing career and his failing relationship, Chicago has little left to offer him, so when he inherits his great-aunt’s pecan farm in North Carolina, it’s the perfect excuse to escape.

  Nervous about being back in the deep South again, surrounded by small-town homophobia, Gary’s certainly not ready to fall in love. Then he meets local farmer, businessman, and fiddle player Chuck Everett, whose family has been contracted to harvest the crop of pecans. Chuck’s the perfect man for Gary… except for being deep in the Southern closet.

  Life heats up quickly when they start making music together, and though both men have more than their fair share of baggage, neither can walk away from the relationship. If Gary rediscovers his muse and realizes being true to himself means moving past his comfort zone, will going forward mean leaving Chuck behind?

  Former professional skateboarder Art Nichols now runs a business almost as successful as his career on the board. His flourishing professional life is in stark contrast to his string of romantic failures until he meets up-and-coming event promoter Jack Martinez. Jack and Art hit it off right away, but what they have is too good to waste on a one-night stand. It’s a long, slow, romantic seduction—and then scandal breaks just when everything seems to be going right for Art at last. Now he has to decide what kind of role model he wants to be to his young fans and whether that will cost him the love he thought he would never find.

 

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