Five Dares

by Eli Easton

  My father had worked for Paine Webber once upon a time, but he’d left with two other hotshots to create their own financial planning firm. MRT Futures was in a converted old mansion not far from downtown Boston. Everything about the place screamed “old money,” from the impeccably painted turrets to the shiny brass plate by the front door.

  MRT Futures

  Graham Alsen, AIFA, APMA, APP

  Bryan Tyler, AEP, AFA, AIFA

  Richard Trunbill, AIFA, AAMA

  “They’ve really got the alphabet covered,” Jake joked as we walked up on the porch. “But I was kinda hoping for a GFG.”

  “GFG?”

  “Gay Futures Guaranteed.”

  I laughed. “You’re such a dweeb. No wonder I love you.”

  “Yeah, that’s nice,” Jake said dismissively. “But what I really want is permission to stay out here on the porch while you talk to the old man.”

  “Nope,” I said, opening the door.

  The firm’s receptionist, Judith, smiled at me when we walked into the office.

  “Good to see you, Andy. Your dad’s waiting for you, and he doesn’t have a client meeting until ten o’clock. Would you like some coffee, either of you?”

  Jake looked about as tense as I felt, and it couldn’t be blamed on the lack of sleep on the plane. I interlaced his fingers with mine. “That would be great. Black for me, and Jake takes cream. By the way, this is Jake Masterson, my fiancé. Jake, this is Judith.”

  “Hi, Judith.” Jake offered his right hand, which fortunately wasn’t the one I was holding.

  Judith didn’t even blink, though I knew I’d surprised her. She shook Jake’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Jake. I’ll go get that coffee. You can go on in, Andy.”

  Jake tried to pull his hand away as we walked down the hall, but I kept it locked in mine. He gave me a fierce look. I gave him a fierce look back. I opened the door to my dad’s office and we walked in.

  As one of the partners of the firm, his office was cushy. It had once been a parlor with a big bay window. His cherry antique desk was enormous and very clean with a single organizer of folders, a bunch of expensive black pens in a leather holder, a leather notebook, and a sleek computer monitor.

  He stood up when Jake and I walked in. His eyes dropped to our hands, and his jaw tightened. There was such profound disappointment on his face that I felt immediately sorry. Damn. The urge to please him was practically primal. I resisted it.

  “Your mother warned me,” he said flatly. “I take it that wasn’t just convenient sex I walked in on at the cottage after all?”

  His tone of voice got under my skin. He made it sound like I’d been purposefully lying or, worse, didn’t know my own mind. I pushed down my anger.

  “No. Jake and I worked things out, and now we’re together.” I glanced at Jake and saw him swallow nervously. “We’d like to talk to you about our plans if you think we can do that productively.”

  I used my softest, most reasonable tone. Jake and I stood near the door to make it clear I was prepared to walk out if need be. Jake’s hand was clutched like a reluctantly captured fish in mine, but I gave it a squeeze. It’s all right. Be strong.

  “Jake came all this way, and I cleared my schedule, so there’s no point delaying it. Sit down.” My dad waved at the chairs in front of his desk with an irritated gesture.

  That was probably as good an invitation as I was likely to get, so I walked to the chairs with Jake and finally let go of his hand. The dark wood and leather were not spaced conveniently to keep hold of him and, besides, I’d made my point.

  “Thanks for seeing us, Mr. Tyler,” Jake said as he sat down. His voice sounded steady, but I knew he was dreading this. So was I.

  My dad glanced at him and nodded. Hell, my dad was probably dreading it too.

  He turned to me. “What’s going on with Harvard? Have you dropped out of your classes too?”

  I replied calmly. “No, I took Friday off to go see Jake, but I haven’t dropped classes. Everything is fine there, but that’s part of what I want to discuss with you. First, though . . .” I turned my head to look at Jake. He looked back at me, his eyes going wide in an oh shit, this is it comical look that lightened my spirits enough to get the words out. “I asked Jake to marry me, and he said yes. We’re not sure when yet, but we don’t want to wait too long due to the political climate. We want to make it legal while we can.”

  That went over like a lead balloon. When I looked back at my dad, his face had gone white. His voice sounded strangled. “Perhaps Jake could wait in reception for a few minutes. I’d like to discuss this with you alone, Andrew.”

  Jake started to stand up, but I reached out and put a hand on his arm. “No. We’re all adults here. Go ahead and say what you want to say.”

  Jake sat down. He gave me a dirty look that said he would have been thrilled to escape. I gave him a dirty look back.

  “Very well.” My dad appeared to consider his words. “Your mother said you told her you’re bisexual.”

  “That’s right.”

  He leaned forward and went into a reasonable tone of voice. “If that’s true, then you have a choice. You could just as easily be happily married to a woman. You do understand that if you’re openly gay, that’s a brush that will paint everything about you? It will narrow down every job opportunity, eliminate you from a dozen top firms, inform and constrict your social networking. The old boy’s network is still incredibly conservative.”

  “Openly bi, Dad. And I’ll find the one firm that doesn’t have a problem with it. I only need one. As for a social network, I’ll build a progressive one. Look how many celebrities and corporations supported gay marriage. They need lawyers too.”

  It took everything I had to stay logical. I knew emotion wouldn’t impress my dad.

  “You can work for progressives without being gay—or bi, but the reverse isn’t true. Yes, you only need one plum job, but to get that one, you need to have as many options as possible. No offense to Jake, but I don’t understand why you—either of you—would want to hamstring yourselves like this. You should at least wait a year or two before you take an irreversible step like marriage.”

  “Okay, listen.” I rubbed my face with my hands. I hated this, facing my dad head on like this. But it was something I had to get through. “Yes, the administration is more conservative now, but there’s also a huge backlash against that. The point is, no one is guaranteed anything. I might just as easily get a plum job two years from now because I’m bi and the firm has a directive to be more inclusive, as I could lose it for the same reason. We can’t predict everything—”

  “Of course not. But—”

  “And you married mom in the eighties even though she was Jewish. Anti-Semitism still exists and could easily become worse in the future as well. That didn’t stop you.”

  My dad hesitated, his mouth open in surprise. He closed it. “That’s true. But your mother’s education, her family background . . . She brought a lot to the table.”

  The implication pissed me off, but I didn’t show it. I reached over and put my hand on Jake’s arm. “Jake brings a lot to the table. He’s bright, hard-working, graduated at the top of his class in engineering, and has a good career ahead of him. More importantly, I want to be with him forever. He’s the one I’ve chosen, Dad. And that’s just the way it is.”

  I stared at my dad, silently willing him to hear me. Jake put his hand on mine and squeezed a thank-you. Or maybe it was a Wow, you are so getting laid later. Or even Great! Can I go now please?

  My dad tapped the desk with his pen for a long moment, staring out the window with a frown, his mouth pursed. I wondered what all my mother had said to him. She seemed to have accepted Jake and me by the time I’d left that lunch with her. I hoped she had my back.

  “If you’re determined to pursue this path,” my dad said at last, “a Harvard degree is more important than ever. Please tell me you see that, both of you.”

  This time h
e included both Jake and me in his glare, which made a shot of happiness burble up inside me. Jake’s neck was now on my dad’s chopping block too? That made me so damn glad!

  “I agree.” Jake nodded. “Andy should finish his degree at Harvard. It’s a huge opportunity.”

  “Right. So let’s talk about that,” I said. “Let’s push plan A and B and C off the table and talk about plan D. All right?”

  “Plan G,” Jake put in with a completely straight face.

  I bit my lip. “Plan G. Let’s discuss plan G.”

  If my dad caught the reference, he didn’t show it. His gaze was different this time, assessing. “I’m listening.”

  “Right,” I said. “So here’s our first objective: I want to change my area of focus to sports law.”

  “Sports law?” My dad looked confused. He shook his head adamantly.

  “Just hear me out. It was Jake’s idea, actually, and I discussed it with my Harvard adviser last week. It’s an up-and-coming field. You can rep athletes with injuries, ball clubs, negotiate sports contracts, advise sports facilities—things like that. It would be a way for me to continue to be involved with sports and still practice law. I’d get my JD from Harvard, but I’d study contract law with a specialization in sports. They’ve got a whole section of courses on it now.”

  I saw a hint of hurt in my dad’s eyes. That was the first time I’d ever seen that, and it made my chest tighten with guilt.

  “Andrew, we spent years crafting your goals and your career path. I’m deeply concerned about just throwing that all out the window just because you’re—” he glanced at Jake “—emotionally raw at the moment.”

  I was going to speak, but Jake got there first. “I don’t want to intrude, sir, but I’ve known Andy for a long time. And, for just as long, he hasn’t felt any conviction about corporate law. He’s discussed it with me a hundred times over the past four years.” He gave me an encouraging smile. “You know he loves sports, and this would allow him to still be around all that. I’ve never seen him this excited about law before. And I’m sure you agree with me that he’s more likely to be successful in a field he’s passionate about.”

  “Hmm.” My dad made a noncommittal noise, but he appeared to be listening.

  “Plus, it’s not really that big a change,” Jake continued. “It’s still a JD from Harvard, after all. If he ever changed his mind, he could do straight corporate law with that degree. He still has to take all the core classes.”

  I pushed a little more. “I know you and I spent a lot of years on my plan, and I really appreciate all your help, but it can’t be set in stone. I didn’t know at sixteen or eighteen what I know about myself right now, or that sports law was even an option. This is the time, right now, when I’m just starting Harvard, for me to realign the plan. Because if I’m not happy writing business contracts ten hours a day, then what is the point?”

  “The point is security. The point is this.” He waved his hand as if to indicate his office. “The point is having a net for retirement. Or for serious illness, or—”

  “Dad.” I held up my hand to stop him. “I know you want to protect me and advise me, because that’s what you do. But Jake and I both have excellent educations. There will always be work for Jake in technology, and I will be able to get work with my JD. It may not be a partnership with one of the top ten firms in Manhattan or Boston, but that’s fine. I don’t need a fancy lifestyle.”

  “And we have you to help us with a retirement plan, Mr. Tyler,” Jake said, his brown eyes hopeful. “I know you’re the best.”

  Bless his conniving little heart. That was my wingman.

  My dad sat back, closed his eyes, and rubbed them with his fingers. But I could sense a resignation about him. Which was good—I hoped. Please, God, let it be good.

  With a world-weary sigh he sat up, opened up his leather-bound notebook, and grabbed a pen. He wrote #1 Sports Law on his pad. I nearly crowed. It felt like a victory.

  “So Andrew will remain at Harvard.” He looked between Jake and me with professional interest. “What about you, Jake. Will you continue to work in California?”

  “Preferably not.” Jake leaned forward a little. “I’d like to find a comparable engineering job near here.”

  “How much are you making?”

  “My salary is $65K.”

  My dad wrote down #2 Relocation, and under it with a bullet point, Jake $65K. “There’s a growing technology sector in Boston,” he said briskly. “Did you apply to anything local when you were looking for work?”

  And my dad was off. Jake talked to him easily, and his hand settled comfortably in mine.

  As I watched them, I got a lump in my throat and had to blink my eyes. The two parts of my life had come together, and nobody was bloody and nothing had exploded.

  Hurrah for the Andy and Jake Show. We’d safely made the jump and were back on solid ground.

  Two years later

  Jake

  The May day was gorgeous and sunny, a particularly fine afternoon for Boston. Yesterday, Andy had graduated from Harvard law school and we’d all gone to his commencement—Andy’s parents, my mom, me, and some of our friends. Today his folks were throwing a party for him at their place, a fancy affair with lots of friends of the Tylers and people from his and her work. They were what his dad would call “good contacts.” The Tylers’ Belmont residence was a huge old brick colonial that had been renovated years ago and had gates, a large lawn, and a garden out back complete with a pool and guesthouse.

  It was nothing like the one-bedroom apartment Andy and I shared near the Harvard campus, but I preferred our place by far. It was in a hip little neighborhood with great restaurants, and we could walk everywhere. Plus it was super gay-friendly. I couldn’t imagine wanting to live anywhere else.

  “You got registered for your fall classes all right?” Andy’s dad asked me.

  We were standing by the pool, him sipping something like a martini from a short square glass and me just enjoying the sunshine.

  “Yup. Though I’m only taking one, that Advanced AI class. Now that Andy’s graduated, I thought we could both use a semester that’s not so busy.”

  I’d been taking two classes a semester at MIT toward my master’s, on top of working full-time at Strictly Robotics, a company founded by a bunch of MIT graduates. It was all good, but I could use a little more time with my husband.

  Andy’s dad nodded. “That makes sense. You boys have been working hard.”

  “Right. Plus Andy will be traveling around New England a lot with his new job. We thought it would be fun if I could go with him once in a while for the weekend.”

  Andy’s mom came up to us, a cocktail in her hand. “Did I hear you say ‘travel’? Where are you going, Jake? Oh, can I get you a drink?”

  “No, thanks. I just finished a glass of wine. I was telling Bryan that I hope to be able to go with Andy on some of his trips for work. His firm has been repping a number of pro hockey teams, and they told Andy they might send him up to Ontario for their talks with the Canadian Hockey League.”

  “Oh. I’m sure that would be fun,” Andy’s mom said unconvincingly.

  I laughed. “Yeah, I know Ontario isn’t exactly Greece, but we’re young and stupid so we like to go just about anywhere. You guys will put us to shame when you come home all tan and . . . and Grecian next month.”

  Andy’s mom looked up at his dad, who was way taller than she was, and gave him a soft smile. He put one arm around her and hugged her.

  “I don’t know about that,” he said. “We may not make it to the beach all that much.” He smirked down at her.

  Yeah. Okay. Way too much information. I really didn’t want to think about them not sunbathing. Though it did seem like they’d gotten closer lately, and that was nice. Maybe there was something to be said for being empty nesters.

  “Andy is suddenly really into ice hockey,” I said to change the subject. “He’s so excited about working with hockey team
s. He dragged me to the skating rink last weekend, and that’s about all he’ll watch on TV. Go Bruins!”

  Andy’s mom and dad were still looking at each other and paid me no mind, so I took the opportunity to sneak away. I did need another drink, come to think of it. Or food would be good. There was a buffet set up inside. And where was Andy? Seeing his parents being smoopy made me crave a hug from my man. Husband. We were coming up on our year anniversary. Maybe we could celebrate it in Ontario?

  I went over to the outside bar to see if he was there, but he wasn’t. I did find my mom and her boyfriend, Sherman. He was an older man, not particularly handsome but very sweet. As I accepted their repeated congratulations for Andy’s sake, I looked around, wondering where he’d gone.

  I finally got away from them and walked around the pool toward the house.

  His mom stopped me at the far side of the pool. “Have you seen Andy?” she asked. “There’s someone here I want him to meet.”

  “I don’t know,” I began. “He was—”

  “Jake Masterson!” Andy’s voice rang out, loud.

  It took me a moment to spot him. He was on the roof of the guesthouse wearing his swim trunks and a T-shirt. Oh boy.

  “What’re you doing up there, hon?” I called out, shading my eyes to look up at him.

  “Andy, come down from there!” said his mother.

  Andy threw his arms wide and shook his head. “Nope! Tell me you love me, Jake, or I’ll . . . I’ll . . . I’ll jump into the pool.”

  “Don’t you dare!” called his mother, aghast. “You’ll break a leg!”

  “Andy, no!” said my mom.

  His dad came barging out of the house with plates in both hands. “Andrew, get down from there!”

  Everyone at the party stopped their conversations to look up at the guest of honor. There were worried murmurs.

  I studied him thoughtfully. Although I shouldn’t have been able to detect the wicked sparkle in his eyes from this distance, especially back lit as he was, I so did. Or maybe I just knew it was there. With his arms wide like he was on stage, his body was filled with a happy, excited tension usually reserved for when he came into the bedroom after school hoping for a quickie.