Gray clearly had more apologizing he needed to do.
“I want to make it up to you,” he declared loudly out of the blue.
Without taking his eyes off his book, David said, “Gray, don’t make promises you apparently have no ability to keep.” He returned to his book and kept eating. When he finished eating, David went upstairs without a word and remained there the rest of the night.
THE FOLLOWING morning, David got the obligatory phone call from Gray’s scheduler who was calling to schedule dinner out with him. When the call first came in, he almost laughed at the poor man stuck with being the one who tried to keep Gray on a schedule, at least a personal, private schedule.
The last time David had spoken with the man who kept Gray’s calendar, it had taken two and a half weeks to find a day and time that would work. He was prepared for the same experience this time but was pleasantly surprised when the first day he suggested was possible. Testing this, he asked about another night a couple of days later. Again, the scheduler told him that would be fine as well.
“It’s never been this easy before. Usually we have to look several weeks into the future to find even a possibility, but this time you scheduled something on the first night I suggested that is barely two days away, not two weeks away. How did you pull that off?”
“Um….” He hesitated.
“Just say it,” David said.
“Well, you see, my orders were to move heaven and earth to make this happen.”
“So what do you have to move to get him to have dinner with me on Friday night?”
“That’s my concern, sir. I’ll take care of it.”
ON FRIDAY morning when David was leaving for work, Gray was still in bed. As David was about to leave, a very naked Gray dashed out of their bedroom, caught him, gave him a kiss, and said, “Don’t forget about our date tonight.”
David paused, slowly turned back toward Gray, and studied the man for a moment. His mind was running an intense algorithm that tried to determine the level of snarkiness he should use.
“I remember, Gray. The real question is whether you will,” David said as he turned back to leave. Pausing once again, David turned back to Gray, smiled, and said, “Just so you know, Gray, you’ve already got two strikes.”
“What does that mean?” Gray asked David.
“It’s simple. This will be the third such appointment you’ve made with me. The first two didn’t happen because of you. Under the rules of the game you adore, when a batter misses a pitch three times, they’re out of the game for that rotation. You’re a smart man, Gray. Figure it out.”
THAT NIGHT, half an hour ahead of when they were scheduled to leave, David was lying on the sofa in the living room, reading, when he heard Gray come up the stairs. When Gray poked his head into the room, he took one look at David and said, “You’re not changed for dinner?”
Looking up, David said, “I wasn’t going to bother until I knew if you were going to show or not.”
Gray dropped his briefcase, walked over to David, pulled him upright and gave him a kiss that was so filled with intensity it was a wonder it didn’t set off the smoke or heat detectors in the White House.
“What do you think?” Gray asked huskily. “Does it seem like I’m here?”
“Yeah, I’d have to give you that one.”
“Good. Let’s get dressed to go out.” He grabbed David by his most prominent feature―his erection, which was tenting out the front of his sweatpants.
“Careful,” David cautioned. “It’s been so long since he was in the same room with you, he might spontaneously erupt.”
Gray stopped and quickly dragged him into a major hug, whispering into David’s ear, “I know, babe. I know. You’ve been more than patient with me and my unreliability, and I’m really grateful to you for that.”
They finished preparing to go out, each being careful to remain on his side of the bed for fear of brushing against each other.
A few minutes later—with Gray looking good enough to get David’s blood pumping to places it hadn’t gone in a long while—they descended the stairs hand in hand and made their way to the doorway, where their car waited.
“Mr. President?” one of the agents said just before they left the building.
“Yes?”
“Your chief of staff would like a moment of your time.”
“Nope,” Gray told him before David even had a moment to feel deflated and furious. “Sorry. Can’t do it. I’m on a date. Unless the fate of civilization as we know it hangs in the balance, he can talk to me tomorrow morning when I’m back in the office.” Without waiting for an answer, Gray led David out the door and into their waiting limo.
Ten minutes later, they were seated at a table in one of Washington’s nicest restaurants. David continued to watch and wait for something. Finally Gray asked him, “Okay, what’s wrong? Do I have mud on my face or something? Am I drooling? What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Gray said. He put his menu down and stared intently at David for a moment.
“Fine. It’s been so long since we’ve gotten to this stage that I’ve been trying to remember what happens next. And I’m still on the look-out for something to come along and fuck it all up.”
“Fair enough,” Gray said. “I’m―”
“Please,” David pleaded, “Please don’t say you’re sorry.”
“I am, but okay,” Gray agreed, clearly having been caught primed and ready to apologize again. “So, what looks good on the menu to you?” he asked instead.
“A number of things. I’ve never been here before, but if the food is half as good as the menu writer describes it, we’re going to have a wonderful dinner.” It took nearly half an hour for David to relax enough to attempt to have a relaxed conversation with Gray. But it was readily apparent to both of them that they didn’t have much in common to talk about anymore. Gray’s entire life was wrapped up in politics and work, and David didn’t care much about the subject. There was nothing new with either of those facts, but they’d always had some common things they could discuss.
The food was good, and once David relaxed, the conversation was a bit choppy but okay. It seemed like forever since they had talked last, which David knew, but which Gray figured out when he asked a seemingly innocent question without realizing the minefield he’d wandered into.
“So, how goes the karate training?” Gray asked, broaching a topic he knew to usually be safe. “When do you try out for the big step up to black belt?”
David froze, his relaxed look vanishing in an instant. It took him a moment before he looked up, but when he did, David’s gaze locked on to Gray with a laser-like intensity.
“What?” Gray asked, seeing that something had happened. “What’s wrong? What did I say?” Gray said, clearly unable to read David.
David carefully set his wineglass down on the table and looked away for a moment before fixing his gaze on Gray once again, staring intently at him for perhaps fifteen seconds before he spoke. “I earned my black belt more than three months ago.”
Gray looked shocked. “You what?”
“I said―”
“I know what you said,” Gray said, his voice raised. “I heard the words. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“When would I have done that?” David asked, doing his utmost to remain calm and collected. “Which of the many evenings we’ve spent together would I have done that? Which of the many weekends we’ve spent together would I have done that? Hmm? Which of the many dinners we’ve shared over the last few months would I have done this? Please tell me that. I’d really like to hear your answer, Gray, so go ahead and tell me, please.” David was furious but managed to keep his voice down. His anger nonetheless was impossible to mask.
Gray deflated. “Has it really been that bad?” he asked hesitantly.
“Yes, Gray. It has been that bad. You checked out months ago, and you haven’t checked back in yet. If you were a library book, I’d ha
ve declared you lost a long time ago.”
“That’s one good reason to not be a book,” Gray agreed.
Seeing an opening, David decided to take it. “Since you introduced the topic―unintentionally, but I’ll take it if it’s all I get―we need to talk. I know that you’re having a good time being President. I am delighted for you in ways you could not imagine. I’m so happy that you’ve reached this crowning achievement in your life, and at such a young age. I’ve always been proud of you, and now you’ve given me this entirely new reason to feel that way. I’d be pissed with you if you weren’t.
“But I’m concerned you’re throwing yourself too totally into the experience. You need to pull back a little, Gray. It’s been so long since I sat down with you at home or out. I want to get to know you again. I want you to get to know me again. This job is sucking the life right out of you, and it’s taking our relationship right along with it. I want to be the only one who sucks anything out of you, provided I can even remember how that works.”
Gray’s head snapped back and his eyes dilated at the mention of sucking. “Um, that could be fun.”
“It could happen every day if you ever came home.”
“I come home… when I can.”
“When you come home, you’re working, you’re on the telephone, you’re dealing with people dropping in with reports, or you’re reading some of the thousands of pages of briefing books your people prepare for you. Or you’re falling asleep from sheer exhaustion. I know you want to do a good job, but you can’t forget that you already have a job.”
“I don’t understand,” Gray said.
“The job for which you were hired first―being a husband.”
Gray winced at David’s word. “Okay.” Gray nodded. “I understand.”
“Do you, Gray? Assuming you do, I have to wonder how long it will take to lose you again, if you make it back to me at all. You will understand why I have little faith in your ability to do anything different, given your track record for the last several months.”
But Gray made an honest effort. He scheduled, and more importantly he kept, several additional dinner dates over the weeks that followed. They even did something novel and had shake-the-headboard sex several nights in a row (and even one morning as well). They even went away together for a quiet weekend at a friend’s borrowed beach house. They were trying to reconnect, but they had a long ways to go, more than could be covered in just one weekend.
Chapter 12—First International Trip Together
WHEN SCHEDULES finally allowed, David accompanied Gray on one international trip. The trip was to a country they had visited before, but David knew he was likely to see things the average tourist would never get to see.
In more than two hundred years of American Presidents, Gray and David’s trip marked the first time a male spouse of an American President had visited. They selected Great Britain as their first trip, thinking that since they had had a male spouse of the head of state for more than fifty years, if anyone was prepared and able to handle David’s presence, it would be the British.
The British were experts on protocol. From the moment they landed, everything worked like clockwork, David and Gray walked down the stairs of the plane together, side by side—but not hand in hand—at the request of Gray’s people.
After a good night’s sleep, Gray was scheduled for a series of meetings all day on their first full day in the country. Their hosts had planned a series of events for David to attend, including a couple of hospitals for him to visit to shake the hands of patients and hospital staff. David found it interesting to learn something about the British medical system, but by and large the day was boring beyond belief.
When David returned to the US Embassy late that afternoon, he was frazzled, not from anything terrible happening, but from mind-numbing tedium. He headed off to the room he and Gray had been assigned for the duration of their stay. If nothing else, at least he could take a nap for a few minutes and try to erase the boredom from his mind.
They were scheduled to have a state dinner that night with the Queen at Buckingham Palace. David was dressed in his tux, his shoes were polished, his tie straightened, everything in impeccable order, and he was waiting for Gray, who was of course running late. As David paced, he was beginning to wonder if Gray was going to stand him up, but suddenly Gray flew past David without a word of greeting, ripped off his suit, and started to shove himself into his tux.
David stood near the door with his hands in his pockets and watched Gray, amused more than anything else. At least he was amused until Gray rushed past him toward the door and brusquely ordered, “Come on! Don’t make us late getting there.”
Waving a red flag in front of a bull couldn’t have caused more anger and fury than what David felt at those words. For a moment, he stood in place, frozen, in utter disbelief over what Gray had just said to him.
“Sir? Excuse me, but the President is waiting for you and he’s anxious to leave,” he heard an agent tell him politely but with a hint of urgency. “We need to leave.”
David turned toward the voice, smiled, and said, “Of course. Wouldn’t want to keep the man waiting. That’s his job.” The agent didn’t respond, but then David would have been surprised if he had.
Walking slowly, David made his way to the car where Gray sat impatiently. “Come on!” he ordered. “Let’s go!”
David very nearly turned around and retraced his steps to their room, ready to say, “Fuck it!” and just not go. But he wanted to meet the Queen, so he stepped into their car and heard the door close immediately behind him.
Gray was distracted as he tried to tie his tie. David couldn’t resist.
“I’m fine. Thanks for asking. How was your day, dear?”
“I don’t have time for your drama today, David,” Gray snapped at him.
David surprised both himself and Gray by suddenly doing something he had never done before. He turned and pinned Gray to his corner of the back seat, his hands pushing Gray’s arms back, one of his knees pressing Gray’s legs down firmly, his face inches from Gray’s.
David’s fury was unmistakable, even to someone who hadn’t known him for ten years. In those years, David had only been this angry once, but there was no way Gray could mistake his feelings at the moment, which seemed to snap Gray out of his near-panic and back to the “now.”
“Listen to me very carefully, Mr. Alexander,” David angrily ordered. “Are you listening?”
Gray nodded, his eyes wide, no doubt understanding the seriousness of this unexpected conversation and also feeling a tiny hint of fear.
Speaking slowly, David said, “You do not come in, ignore the fact that you are more than half an hour late, ignore that I’m already dressed and have been ready to leave for more than half an hour, ignore me totally, with not even a simple word of greeting, and then tell me that you don’t want me to make us late. You see, Gray, that is not acceptable behavior. You were late. So you do not blame me for your own failings. Do you understand me? And you especially do not tell me that you do not have time for any of my ‘drama.’ I don’t know what you meant by that, but I don’t think I like where your mind was going. Do you understand me, Gray?”
Gray nodded and said, “Yes, I understand. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things. You…. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” David said calmly. He released his hold on Gray and then helped him to tie his tie. He straightened Gray’s jacket, got his hair into place, and adjusted his shirt collar. “There. All set. You look good enough to meet a Queen.”
Their agents seated in the front clearly knew something significant was happening in the back of the car, because their forward progress had completely stopped. David didn’t know what the agents would have done if they’d viewed him as a threat to his own husband, but the disagreement was now settled.
David returned to his side of the seat, and silence ruled for the duration of the short drive to the palace. To show Gray that it was s
till him, David reached across and grabbed Gray’s hand, holding firmly on to it for the remainder of the ride.
THE STATE dinner at the palace was a grand affair. Countless people were in attendance—so many names that David fought a losing battle as he tried to retain and keep them straight. The evening was pleasant, as such things go, and David enjoyed watching the pomp, if nothing else.
Since a great many people wanted to have a word with Gray, as was to be expected, David prepared for an evening of being bored out of his gourd when there was no pomp to watch. But much to his surprise, he found someone on the Queen’s staff had thoughtfully assigned him an escort from the royal family.
“David?” a young man with blond hair and a million-watt smile said shortly after they had arrived at Buckingham Palace and at about the time Gray was dragged aside for the first of what would likely be a great many private conversations that evening.
“Yes,” David said, automatically extending his hand to the handsome younger man.
“Ah, good. My name is Giles, and I’ve been asked to guide you around this evening.”
“Oh? Thanks. I’m here with—”
“Yes,” Giles said with a smile. “I know. I also know you’ll be abandoned and left on your own tonight more than you’ll be with your husband. Sadly, one of the prices of being married to royalty, American or British.”
“You speak as one with some authority on the subject,” David observed.
“As one who is in line for the British throne, albeit so far down the list no one bothers to even count that far, we’re taught from birth that this is one of the facts of life.”
A positively gorgeous waiter approached them and offered champagne, which they both took, accompanied by a careful study of the man’s face.
“He’s frigging hot,” Giles observed quietly to David.
“Hm,” David made a sound to acknowledge having heard Giles’s comment.
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