Someone Like You

by Timothy J Beck

  “It’s okay,” Vienna interrupted. “I know what you mean. Why don’t we go to my place? It’s nearby. I’m pretty sure my roommate is out for the evening, and I really need to get home and feed my kitty.”

  28

  The Dinosaur from Our Imagination

  What the hell am I doing? Derek wondered, skittering through the mall like a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs. I’ll never get out of this alive.

  He flinched as he reached into his pocket for his cell phone and his fingers brushed Natasha’s keys. He kept expecting to feel the clamp of her hand on his neck. Every few seconds, he glanced nervously over his shoulder, even though he knew how guilty that made him look. He’d be lucky if he didn’t end up surrounded by security guards, although it was hard to consider them a serious threat when they were always crashing their golf carts through glass doors and windows.

  In spite of his anxiety, the thought of mall security made Derek smile. The first time he’d ever heard Hunter call them the “Barneys” he’d tentatively asked what they had to do with purple dinosaurs. Hunter had looked perplexed at Derek’s question, and Derek had been embarrassed about missing Hunter’s reference to Barney Fife, bumbling deputy from Mayberry. Hunter had brushed it off, making Derek explain the purple dinosaur cult. In time, the two different Barneys had merged in their private jokes, which included creating their own lyrics to the “I Love You” song whenever they heard new evidence of mall security’s ineptitude. And occasionally at other times…

  After they settled into their room at the guesthouse, Hunter left to take a walk. Derek lay on the bed with a novel, trying not to wonder what Hunter was up to, if he was cruising or maybe tricking. He knew he should be out enjoying his first trip to Key West, but he thought maybe Hunter wanted some time away from him. He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until Hunter slid onto the bed next to him and woke him. The book fell from Derek’s chest to the floor between the bed and the wall. When he reached for it, his hands touched cold metal. Confused, he brought up a pair of handcuffs left behind by a former occupant of the room.

  He and Hunter stared at each other for a few seconds, then used the cuffs as the catalyst for hours of electrifying sex. Sometime during the night, Hunter made him hysterical by unexpectedly singing in his ear, “I frisk you. You fuck me. We are mall security.”

  Stop, he ordered himself, remembering that he’d been about to call Christian to tell him that he’d successfully stolen Natasha’s keys from her desk. Instead, he stared at the unusually large crowd of people between him and Hal’s Hardware Heaven. He’d known it was a bad idea to get the keys duplicated at the mall. He’d asked Christian if he could borrow his car to do it elsewhere. Christian had said that would take too long. It was vital that Natasha never have a chance to miss the keys.

  Derek’s concern was Hunter, who was always dashing in to Hal’s to buy little wrenches, screwdrivers, and other assorted items that he used to maintain his bikes. Derek had been deliberately avoiding any of the places where he might run into his ex. But Christian was right. Time was the most important consideration. Which forced Derek to negotiate his way through a hundred potential witnesses to get to the hardware store.

  He didn’t understand why so many people were lingering on the Sun level until he finally saw the group of magicians entertaining the crowd in the common area. Rings of children watched, spellbound, as bunnies and doves disappeared and reappeared, balls were juggled, and brightly colored scarves were pulled from unexpected places amid puffs of smoke. As Derek scanned the crowd, his eye was caught by Gypsy Ed, the man he’d met on Preview Night.

  Ed’s focused expression was full of affection and pleasure, and Derek realized that he was actually quite handsome. But he wasn’t looking at the magicians. Derek followed the trajectory of his gaze until he spotted the person in the crowd that Ed was watching so intently. It wasn’t a thrilled child, as Derek had expected. It was Hunter. Derek felt a little put out that his lover was being cruised by another man. Then, as he stared at Hunter, he understood why Ed was smiling, and his heart melted.

  Hunter was watching the magicians with rapt fascination. When a dove fluttered from a box, his eyes widened. When a coin was taken from behind a little boy’s ear, Hunter smiled along with everyone else. The simple, standard tricks that most people had seen from the time they were toddlers, but of course, Hunter had never really been a child. Probably the only magic he’d seen as a boy was the Congreve accountants making money appear out of thin air.

  Like Gypsy Ed, Derek was mesmerized by the appearance of a Hunter who rarely surfaced. The little boy who’d never seen a magic show. Whose parents had never taken him to a circus or a carnival. The Hunter that Derek instinctively understood and wanted to protect from the judgment of others. Derek’s gaze went from Hunter to Ed, then back to Hunter. It hurt that another man could not only see Hunter the way he did, but might not fail to win his heart, as Derek had. Someone else might magically release the child in Hunter who needed a sympathetic companion.

  Derek’s jealousy struggled against his love, and he turned away, his heart aching as he thought, If not me, then someone. I want him to be happy.

  He slowly skirted the crowd and went into Hal’s, taking the keys off Natasha Deere’s chain and handing them over to be duplicated. He looked down, trying to figure out how to teach his heart to say good-bye and mean it. He was pushing the brass D in a circle over the wooden counter when he smelled Marc Jacobs and smoke, and he looked up into Hunter’s eyes.

  “You’re so sad,” Hunter said. “Is there anything I can do for you, Derek?”

  Derek swallowed and shook his head. That was the root of their problem. In Hunter’s world, they were locked into roles. Hunter was the one who took care of things. Derek was the one who was taken care of. Hunter would never have kicked him out, because he wasn’t cruel. But as long as they were together, Derek would always be treated like a child. Hunter would always be the adult.

  Hunter reached over and gently touched Derek’s hair, saying, “I like this haircut. It suits you.”

  When Derek didn’t answer, Hunter dropped his eyes, following the path of the D that Derek still pushed around the counter. Derek felt his face get hot. He was practically begging the world to notice that he’d stolen Natasha’s keys. Vienna might suggest that he wanted to get caught.

  “Making keys to your new place for your new boyfriend?” Hunter asked, staring hard at Derek’s red face.

  Taken off guard, Derek merely grunted, “Huh?”

  “Drayden?” Hunter asked. When Derek’s mouth fell open, Hunter said, “I saw him with you at the store that night.” Derek didn’t have to ask which night Hunter meant, blushing again at the memory of his encounter with Hunter in the storage room at Drayden’s. Before he could reply, Hunter went on. “He’s obviously crazy about you. I guess it’s a good match.”

  After his first wave of shock subsided, Derek realized there was no reason for Hunter not to think he’d simply traded one sugar daddy for another. It didn’t speak highly of Hunter’s opinion of him, but he guessed he deserved it.

  “How do you know the D isn’t for Derek?” he asked wearily.

  “A big brass D on a key chain, Derek? That’s so not you. Do you think I don’t know you at all?” When Derek only stared at him, Hunter shrugged and left the store.

  Derek paid for the duplicate keys and a small ring to put them on, then walked back to Drayden’s in a trance. He couldn’t think of any moment during Preview Night that would have given Hunter the impression that he had something going with Drayden Lvandsson. He’d only met the man that night. As gratifying as it was to think that Hunter was jealous, if that had been what prompted their sex, it was no healthier than any of the other negative emotions they shared. It was time to move on.

  When he went inside Drayden’s, he checked out Cosmetics. Vienna was swamped with customers. He saw no sign of Christian, who was supposed to be keeping an eye on Natasha. Derek went through the
stockroom doors and approached Natasha’s desk with a fatalistic attitude, unsurprised but also undismayed to see her standing there with Erik. He was ready to hand over her keys, get fired, and leave the mall for the comfort of his parents and Evansville. Or maybe he’d go stay with Davii in New York. There wasn’t a reason in the world why he should be enduring the fucked-up population of a vindictive manager, an ex-boyfriend, a roommate who shunned the profession that had cost her so much time and money, and a friend who was too cowardly to use his artistic talent. The universe sucked, and Derek wanted out.

  “I know they were right here on my desk,” Natasha said furiously. “Someone must have taken them.”

  Derek reached into his pocket, his eyes meeting Erik’s, and Erik said, “Oh, good. Derek, help me move this desk. I’m sure Natasha’s keys are wedged between it and the wall.”

  “I need—”

  “Hurry up!” Natasha snapped, cutting off Derek’s attempted confession. “God, why must I always be subjected to imbeciles and laggards?”

  Erik’s gaze didn’t waver, and Derek felt sympathy for him. If Vienna successfully crushed Natasha, it would benefit a lot more people than just Derek. Derek could leave Drayden’s without a trace of regret, but Erik loved his job. He was good at it. It wasn’t fair that Natasha had so much power to make it miserable for him.

  As they moved the desk, Derek pulled the keys from his pocket and let them fall to the floor.

  “See?” Erik said, smiling faintly at Derek while Natasha dropped to her knees and reached under the desk to retrieve the keys.

  “Please try,” Natasha said as she stood up, “not to let anything else go wrong today.” She grabbed her purse and stalked away without a word of thanks or farewell.

  “Erik—”

  “I don’t want to know,” Erik said, waving him away. “Just tell me it won’t hurt the store.”

  “It won’t hurt the store.”

  Vienna wasn’t home when he got in that evening. Nor did Christian answer his phone. Apparently they’d roped him into their scheme, persuading him to steal and copy the keys, then abandoned him. Not that he could be mad, since they were doing it for him in the first place. Well, for him and to conquer the forces of evil.

  He grinned, realizing that his mood had lifted. He no longer felt like running away. He really didn’t even mind having some time to himself. It had been a while since he hadn’t had to work or wanted to watch TV, go out with Vienna, or join Christian for yoga. He decided to make the most of it.

  After he showered, he bought a new novel at Patti’s Pages and took it to dinner with him at Stargrazers. Then he walked slowly through the mall, window-shopping, people-watching, and enjoying his own company. It wasn’t until he stepped into the lobby of the Congreve that he realized what he’d done. Force of habit had led him home. Except it wasn’t home anymore.

  As he turned to retrace his steps, he heard Sheree’s musical reminder that home without Hunter was no home for him. Sheree had to be a witch; what else explained the way she seemed always to sing his thoughts, even when she couldn’t possibly know he was there?

  He went inside the Aurora to listen to her Showboat set. The bar stools were full, so he had to take a table, where he ordered a drink and sat back, admiring his favorite chanteuse. A few songs later, his glass was empty and she was about to take a break, so he pushed back his chair to leave.

  “Derek, right?” he heard a man say. Looking up, he saw Drayden Lvandsson standing next to his table.

  “Yes, sir,” he said, his spine straightening as he prepared to stand up.

  Drayden placed his hand on Derek’s shoulder to restrain him and said, “Mind if I sit down? Could I buy you a drink?”

  “Sure,” Derek said with a nervous swallow. He watched as Drayden smiled and nodded toward their waiter, then said, “I didn’t know you were still in town, Mr. Lvandsson.”

  “Please call me Drayden. Really. Even at work.”

  “Yes, sir,” Derek said, and Drayden smiled. “I mean—”

  “We’re just a couple of men listening to a beautiful woman sing wonderful old songs,” Drayden said. He glanced toward the bar, where Sheree was getting her water. “Isn’t she marvelous?”

  “I’ve always thought so,” Derek said.

  “So, Derek, any new accounts of heroism to share? Rescued any more supermodels? My father was quite entertained by the story of a shoe seller by day, bull whisperer by night.”

  Derek blushed and said, “Mr. Lvandsson—”

  “Drayden.”

  “—I have to tell you the truth. I’m probably the lousiest shoe seller Drayden’s has ever had. I’m always screwing something up. The only thing I’ve got going for me is good manners. Gert the cow could do a better job than I do.”

  Drayden’s eyes crinkled with amusement, and he said, “But you obviously think fast on your feet.”

  “Vienna, the woman who told you that story? She and our friend Davii are actually the ones who saved the day. I was cowering behind a table most of the time, trying to come up with clever bon mots about the bull. Vienna wanted to make me look good to you.”

  “Then obviously you have something other than good manners going for you. You have a good friend,” Drayden said. “Even if your sales are soft, lots of people have to grow into a job, Derek.”

  “In my case, I’d pretty much need the retail equivalent of Viagra,” Derek said, and Drayden let out a gratifying bellow of laughter.

  Derek glanced toward the stage as Sheree began singing “My Buddy,” wondering if she was trying to tell him something, since that was her nickname for him. If so, it seemed insensitive; the song was about someone who missed all the gay days he’d spent with his buddy. Sheree didn’t seem to be singing to him, though. Derek shifted to see who she was watching and spotted Hunter staring at him from the door to the Congreve lobby. Or rather, he was staring at Drayden. Then Hunter looked at Derek for a moment before turning and leaving the bar.

  29

  Indiana Talbot and the

  Temple of Doom

  Vienna waited outside the main entrance of Drayden’s, scanning the courtyard for Derek and Christian. She impatiently glanced at her watch and frowned; they were ten minutes late. She turned and gazed at her reflection in one of Drayden’s display windows, patting the curls of her latest wig into place. She examined her cuticles, then checked her watch again. Even though the interior of the mall remained open because of the clubs, bars, and some of the restaurants, Vienna worried that loitering in the courtyard might attract the attention of mall security.

  Finally she spotted Christian walking toward her in the distance. He was dressed head to toe in black and was wearing gloves. Vienna rolled her eyes and thought, So much for being subtle.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “A client called right before I left. She’s asking her boss for a raise tomorrow and needed encouragement. Where’s Derek?”

  “I have no idea,” Vienna stated. “What the hell are you wearing? I told you to dress inconspicuously.”

  Christian looked down at his outfit and said, “I thought I did.”

  “You look like a cat burglar. Get that thing off your head,” she said, snatching off his black stocking hat. She opened her large Kate Spade tote bag and stuffed it inside.

  “Hey!” Christian exclaimed, his hands flying up to his head. “My hair!”

  “Are we ready?” Derek suddenly said, causing both Vienna and Christian to yelp in surprise. He grinned at their reactions, pointed to his Diesel sneakers, and said, “I’m wearing my sneakiest shoes.”

  “That’s great,” Vienna said sarcastically. She gestured to Christian and said, “At least you’re not dressed like Ethan Hunt here.”

  “Ethan Hunt?” Derek asked blankly.

  “Mission: Impossible,” Vienna said with a sigh. “I’m starting to understand the title.”

  “We’re breaking into Natasha’s apartment. What did you expect me to wear, a clown suit?” Christian as
ked, sounding miffed as he continued to smooth his hair. “I’ll bet nobody ever messed up Ethan Hunt’s hair.”

  “We don’t have to do this tonight,” Derek said. “Natasha’s not due back for two more nights. We could do it tomorrow.”

  “Let’s get it over with,” Vienna said, leading the way to Natasha’s condominium. “If you’re afraid, the best course of action is to confront your fears head on, instead of putting it off.”

  “I’m not afraid,” Derek said.

  “I was talking to myself,” Vienna said.

  As they approached the Final Frontier Passage, Christian asked, “We’re going to just walk right in?”

  “Do you have a better idea?” Vienna asked. “What did you think we were gonna do, scale the side of the building?”

  “He’s certainly dressed for it,” Derek said.

  “If you two don’t stop making fun of my clothes, I’m out of here,” Christian huffily replied.

  “Think about it. If we sneak in, we look guilty and draw attention to ourselves. We have keys to Natasha’s apartment, so all we have to do is look like we belong there and security won’t give us a second thought, right?”

  “In theory,” Christian said.

  “Makes sense to me,” Derek agreed.

  “Let’s go,” Vienna urged. “If we get stopped, we’re there to water a friend’s plants while she’s out of town.”

  They strode purposefully through the Final Frontier Passage and directly into Natasha’s building. Vienna looked at the butter-soft leather furniture, lush foliage, and expensive art on the lobby walls and felt envious. It was nicer than her building. Why did the evil harridans of the world always get all the breaks? She smiled at the concierge as they passed the front desk and cheerfully said, “Hi!”