Someone Like You

by Timothy J Beck

  His first blow toward being his own person came when he was fifteen and fell hopelessly in love at Phillips Academy. Garry would never be able to return his feelings, but Hunter gained two things from the experience: his best friend and an understanding of his own nature. Garry handled the situation with grace, and they became each other’s champions, confidants, and partners in the usual schoolboy pranks. Garry knew their close friendship caused people to suspect his sexuality, but he never made Hunter feel like that was any kind of burden. It wasn’t as Prophet and Congreve, children of privilege, that they considered themselves beyond the censure of others. It was as Pro and Con, two sides of a single, unbreakable connection called friendship.

  The first adult to whom Hunter confided his newfound knowledge about himself was Sheree Sheridan. He’d always felt a bond with her, almost as if she’d been the cuckoo who left him in the Congreve nest. Sheree heard him out, then put her arms around him and said, “Hunter, this will be your saving grace.” It was years before he understood that being among his family without being a full-fledged part of them was like having the best of two worlds.

  He’d boldly proclaimed his sexuality to his father while he was on summer break, and after a few minutes of stony silence, in an eerie repetition of his mother’s reprimand, his father said, “Just don’t fuck the staff, Hunter. It’s hard to find good help.” Which had been bewildering, since they were in their Marblehead house at the time and the only servants were their fifty-five-year-old housekeeper and their sixty-year-old gardener.

  For the most part, Hunter did what was expected of him. He stayed out of serious trouble and studied hard. When he had to choose a sport at school, he decided on cycling because he didn’t particularly enjoy games with balls and he hated being trapped inside a gym. He considered running, but he liked the speed of racing and the challenge of competing against his own body, a machine, other cyclists, and nature. He continued cycling through his college and post-graduate years.

  His next declaration of independence came when he completed his MBA and refused to go to work for Congreve. When Garry was sent to Europe to work for his family’s business, Hunter went with him and began competitive racing in earnest. He was in France when he fell in love for the second time, although his lover was also an American. Barrett was a model, and Hunter was so stupidly dazzled by his beauty that it took him a long time to notice his less attractive qualities. These included a tendency to use Hunter’s name and connections to advance his career, an eagerness to treat Hunter’s money as his own, and an ability—somewhat amazing in a boy from Newark—to affect an attitude of world-weariness that ultimately doomed the relationship. Hunter had no patience with snobbery.

  Hunter’s cycling career was also doomed when his bike skidded on a wet road and he was thrown down a steep embankment, mangling one of his knees. His father saw to it that he had outstanding surgeons, but Hunter understood that there was only so much they could do. He accepted the inevitable without bitterness, but his father had no intention of letting his earlier rebellion go completely overlooked, and he sent him to Indiana when Hunter agreed to work for the Congreve hotel chain.

  Hunter had mentally prepared himself to start at the bottom and work his way up at either the Boston or Manhattan Congreve, so his father’s decision surprised him. To an outsider, being made manager of his own hotel appeared to be a reward. But Hunter recognized it as his father’s punishment. Terre Haute was not the kind of city where the upscale Congreve hotels were usually located. The hotel existed only because of the supermall, and it was expected to lose money. Providing it an untested, untrained manager nearly guaranteed that it would be a tax write-off.

  Randolph Congreve had not known that his youngest son took other lessons from the story of the cuckoo. Yelling one’s head off was rarely productive, and sometimes what seemed like catastrophe was actually, in the words of the Congreve forefathers, a chance at life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Hunter had no illusions about himself. He’d been born with all the comforts that came with being a Congreve, and he had no intention of tossing them aside out of stubborn pride.

  Still, he missed his friends and the places where he felt at home. He especially missed Garry, who was sent by the Prophets from one European distillery to another to learn every facet of the family business. Although Hunter resented his father’s domination, he tried to follow Garry’s example and find the positive aspects of accepting his familial responsibilities.

  Gradually, his sense of humor asserted itself. He loved his staff, who provided him with an endless set of challenges and diversions. He enjoyed his hotel guests, many of whom saw a journey to Mall of the Universe and their stay in a Congreve hotel as a fantastic adventure. He liked the hardworking, decent spirit of the people of Indiana. As a gay man who’d grown up among the leisure class, he’d anticipated ostracism and rejection, but he was treated as a valuable part of the business community. And there were plenty of fair-minded citizens who made him feel welcome as a person, as well.

  The biggest advantage of being in Indiana was the presence of Sheree. They were each other’s connection to a life from which they’d both been banished, but it was more than that. Hunter knew that for whatever reason, Sheree genuinely loved him in the same way Garry did. During times when he was overwhelmed by the responsibilities that had been placed on him, or he just needed the sight of a friendly face, Sheree was the one he turned to.

  When Hunter was finally settling into his new life, not exactly happy, but not entirely unhappy, he’d fallen in love for the third and final time. From the first moment he saw Derek, he knew he wanted him. Like the cuckoo’s tree, he’d been struck by lightning, and nothing would ever be the same.

  In time, Hunter had come to know that Derek had an infinite number of appealing qualities—sweetness, trust, humor, incorruptibility, and tolerance—but he’d never really understood the initial attraction. Derek was cute, but Hunter had known great beauties. He was cocky, but Hunter had grown up surrounded by brash people. He was an eager, uninhibited lover, but Hunter had enjoyed an abundance of good sex. As mystifying as it was, however, from their first days together, he’d believed that Derek was meant to be with him. He’d found Derek bewitching. He loved the way Derek’s conversations filled the empty spaces in his apartment and in his heart. He loved holding him until they fell asleep. He loved waking up with him, and finding him there each time he came back. When Derek had left to go home for the summer, Hunter was lonelier than he’d ever been.

  He endured the separation for two weeks before he was provoked into a rare display of Congreve ferocity, going to Evansville to talk honestly with the Andersons. He intended to have a relationship with their son, and nothing was going to stand in his way. Overwhelmed as they were by having their suspicions about Derek confirmed, they were not meek. It wasn’t until they understood that Hunter had no intention of letting Derek neglect his studies or be nothing more than Hunter’s diversion that they agreed to let their son make the decision for himself.

  Hunter had never thought any of them regretted it; he certainly hadn’t. For three years, Derek had been the source of a happiness Hunter hadn’t known existed. Hunter worked hard, surprising his father and everyone else except Sheree by making the hotel profitable. But Hunter knew he could never have stuck it out without Derek, who’d given him a home in a little place that was supposed to have been exile.

  Best of all, Derek was his storyteller. By day, Derek could adapt any person or situation into an observation or tale that enthralled Hunter. Derek’s talent with words was mysterious and magical, and Hunter encouraged it in every way he could. He made sure Derek had a computer, so he could write, and online access to information, to simplify any research he needed to do. When they traveled, he always visited bookstores with Derek, and he encouraged him to buy and read as many books as he wanted.

  Hunter wanted to provide Derek with an awareness of the larger world. For Hunter, going to circuit parties was a cha
nce to relax and blow off steam in places where gay men converged in a celebration of their existence. But he also meant for their trips to give Derek a look at the world outside Indiana. Hunter believed that the more Derek saw, the more honest and brave he would be with what he wrote. Derek had grown up feeling safe inside the love of a family, and he’d recreated a safe place for himself at college, then at the mall. Hunter liked it that Derek felt secure, but he never wanted Derek to feel that he’d missed out on anything.

  At night, Derek lulled Hunter to sleep with a continuing story of two princes. The two princes were Derek’s metaphor for the things they shared. Their physical passion. The hurt that an unsympathetic world could sometimes cause two gay men. The place where they lived, or the ones they visited. The men they found handsome, or the women who touched their lives. Sometimes the stories were funny, other times romantic, but for Hunter, they became a way to measure the depth of the love that grew from their initial attraction. He believed that they belonged to each other heart, body, and soul.

  Their relationship was not without its difficulties. From time to time, he sensed Derek’s frustration with him. Hunter didn’t have Derek’s easy ability to express his thoughts and feelings. When Hunter was angry with his father or annoyed by work, his moodiness baffled Derek. Sometimes they bickered over petty things, but to Hunter, that was all part of the package. He never doubted that the strength of what they shared could withstand their individual flaws.

  He also never worried about the disparity between them. Although he was older and had more responsibility and money than Derek, Hunter believed that love leveled everything out. In fact, he sometimes thought that his love was smothering. He kept reminding himself that Derek was seven years younger and in his first relationship. He tried to give him space to explore and experiment, sure that if he put too many conditions or limitations on Derek, he’d be stuck like the cuckoo in the tree, watching Derek fly to freedom.

  It unsettled him when Derek graduated and seemed disinclined to do anything with his time or his talent. He didn’t feel taken advantage of, as he had with Barrett. But his sense that Derek was unhappy was confirmed when his lover began lying on the sofa watching movies until Hunter fell asleep. Sometimes he urged Hunter to go to bed without him while he stayed at his computer, not writing, as Hunter hoped, but talking to people that Hunter knew nothing about. The bedtime stories of the princes tapered off, then stopped.

  Derek’s decision to work at Drayden’s played on Hunter’s single fear—losing Derek. His first thought, which came at him out of nowhere, was that Derek took the job to be close to some man he was interested in. That was so threatening that Hunter quickly searched for other possibilities. Since he didn’t believe for a minute that Derek had any real interest in a retail career, he decided his motive had to be money. Not only money that didn’t come from Hunter, but money from a job that was in no way connected to Hunter, who would happily have introduced Derek to contacts who could have used his gift with words.

  His instinct was to tell Derek that he couldn’t take the Drayden’s job, and he bit off the words before they left his mouth. Derek was no more likely to appreciate an attempt to control him than Hunter had been, and Hunter didn’t intend to make his father’s mistakes. When Derek left his office after telling him about the job, Hunter fought his urge to find him and use whatever emotional or financial power he had to change his mind. He kept telling himself that it was only a job, not a good-bye, but that wasn’t how it felt.

  Sydney had seemed like a solution. Physical distance would prevent Hunter from interfering with Derek’s choices. In retrospect, it was the worst decision he’d ever made. Their communication had been frustrating, then it had become something that Hunter hadn’t expected. Hostile. Hurtful. His attempts to convey Australia’s beauty had misfired. He simply didn’t have Derek’s gift with words.

  But Derek had found words. Words for men. Erik. Davii. Christian. Who they were to him, what they did with him, was left vague, and Hunter knew that was deliberate, because it wasn’t in Derek’s nature to be secretive. It was, however, in Hunter’s nature to retreat behind a wall of silence as his only defense.

  When Derek told him that he was moving out, Hunter had done exactly what he’d promised not to, giving his lover orders as if Derek was one of his employees or subservient in some way. Then he’d infuriated his father by threatening to quit if he wasn’t allowed to come home as soon as possible.

  He’d been too late to stop Derek from moving out, so his only hope was to see him and bring him home so they could talk things through. On Planter’s Day Preview Night, watching Derek’s manager belittle him, and seeing Drayden Lvandsson hang all over him, made Hunter crazy. He knew he should leave before he made things worse. When Derek came after him, the lonely months of anger and frustration dissolved under the thrill of being able to make love to him again. It hadn’t been enough to bring Derek home.

  The weeks after that had been the worst of Hunter’s life. To have Derek so close, but unavailable. To see him with Drayden and wonder about the nature of their relationship, which defied everything he understood about Derek. To listen to Riley’s innuendos about what Derek had been doing with his time, which hurt Hunter’s pride even though it didn’t diminish his love. Hunter knew Derek loved him. He could see in Derek’s eyes that something was wrong. But Hunter couldn’t find a way to reach past the months apart or the people between them.

  It had all come to a head at the Big Bang when Sheree’s frantic phone call had summoned Hunter. He watched Derek’s drama play out and tried to determine what was going on. He didn’t want to repeat his mistake of giving Derek orders, so he kept his mouth shut and hoped that Derek would turn to him. Instead, Derek walked out, with Drayden Lvandsson on his heels. Nonetheless, Hunter had a feeling, later confirmed by Sheree, that nothing was going on between Drayden and Derek.

  He’d looked for Derek most of the night, banging on his apartment door, calling his cell phone, walking the mall. He’d gone back to the hotel and alerted the staff that if anyone saw Derek, he wanted to be told immediately. Near dawn, he’d gone back to the Galaxy Building. When the elevator doors opened on Derek’s floor, Garry was standing there.

  “Don’t bother,” Garry said. “No one will come to the door. I honestly don’t think they’re there.”

  “Who the hell is ‘they’?” Hunter asked. “What are you doing here?”

  Garry stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed. The two men stared at each other for a few seconds, then Garry hugged him. Hunter gratefully held on until they got to the lobby, then they walked silently together back to his apartment at the Congreve, where they caught each other up.

  “I can’t believe you fell in love with Derek’s roommate,” Hunter finally said.

  “When I fell in love with her, she wasn’t his roommate,” Garry said. “I’d seen them together. I knew they were friends. But Vienna never told me anything about him.”

  “If she had, would you have told me?”

  “And risked Vienna’s wrath?” Garry asked. He grinned. “Of course I would have told you. I might have come here to get away from my family and Buffy, but if I’d seen a way to help you and Derek, I would have.”

  “You couldn’t have screwed it up any worse than I did,” Hunter said and told him about Preview Night.

  Garry shook his head and said, “Instead of telling him what to do, you should have told him how you feel. I blame myself.”

  “For what?”

  “I spoiled you, Hunter. You never have to express your thoughts or feelings to me because I know you so well. You assume that Derek knows you the same way.”

  “He does,” Hunter said.

  “Indulge me. Did you ever tell Derek that the reason he shouldn’t be selling shoes is because you think he’s a gifted writer? Or that your world would be a sadder, duller place without him in it?”

  “I don’t have to tell him that. He knows it.”

  “Mayb
e,” Garry said doubtfully. “In any case, it’s clear there are things you don’t know about Derek.”

  Hunter had to admit the truth of that. In the days that followed, Vienna continued to avoid Garry, and no one seemed to know where Derek was. Hunter turned to the people that he trusted for answers. Juanita hadn’t heard from him, nor had Sheree. But Sheree, with Natasha Deere, had been able to help him discover the ways that Riley had undermined his relationship. Hunter’s sense of betrayal at Riley’s hands was nothing compared to his rage over any pain Riley might have caused Derek. His analysis of Riley’s sly innuendos and outright interference made him wonder what lies or suspicions his assistant might have planted in his lover’s head. Hunter knew he was still missing pieces of the puzzle in understanding Derek’s feelings and actions.

  Juanita reluctantly told Hunter about Riley’s final accusation, but she refused to believe that Derek and Christian Mercer were lovers. Hunter wasn’t as sure, and though he sensed that Derek wasn’t in the mall, he finally decided he had to see for himself. He found Christian’s address and went to the Galaxy Building.

  The visit was enlightening, but not in the way he’d expected. Hunter had obviously interrupted a romantic evening, but Christian’s companion wasn’t Derek. The tousled redhead named Bianca watched Hunter with a thoughtful expression as Christian assured him that he had no idea where Derek was. Hunter had seen enough to believe him, but when he turned to leave, Bianca said, “Christian, tell him. About the dolls.”

  Christian was obviously uncomfortable explaining that he, Derek, and Vienna had broken into Natasha’s apartment and stolen her property. As shocked as Hunter was—it seemed very out of character for Derek—on his walk back to the hotel, he’d started laughing so hard that he had to sit down. He kept envisioning Derek fending off the Uranus security guards; it was like he’d gotten trapped in one of his own outrageous stories.