“Interesting and they are all good-looking too,” Dan said. He glanced over at the young man in a dark blue sport coat and khaki slacks. “He’s Mathew I take it?”
“Yes and Mat is the best Daddy’s Boys has to offer.”
“And what if I still preferred you to have dinner with me tonight?”
“I’ve had supper already. Two hotdogs as Hot Dog Heaven. They have the best chili sauce in California.”
“Okay, I like hotdogs. Take me there, and I’ll see if what you say is true?”
“They don’t serve wine at Hot Dog Heaven?”
“That all right. I drink Diet Coke too,” Dan said.
Suddenly, both Gerry and Dan were laughing.
“You sure you don’t have a little bit of pit bull in your blood. You don’t give up,” Gerry said, suppressing more laughter.
“I don’t know. My father often accused of my mother of infidelity.”
“Heck, it’s not often a rich dud comes in here with the ability to laugh at himself. I suspect you had to work for your money?” Gerry said.
“Commercial airline pilot. Made some great investments when the stock market crashed in 2009.”
“Lucky you.”
“Not really. My wife died about a year ago in an auto accident in LA just before I retired. We were planning on buying a house here in San Diego. I went ahead with the plan, and here I am. Foot loose and fancy free!”
“Any kids?”
Dan shook his head. “Our marriage was pretty sexless after the first couple of years. I always knew I was gay. But we fell in love on my first flight to Tokyo. She was one of the flight attendant.”
“Okay,” Gerry said suddenly seemingly lost for words.
“Now, how about those hot dogs?”
Chapter 3
“So what brings you to San Diego. From your accent I would guess you are from the deep south,” Dan said as they walked out of the bar.
“Don’t remind me.” Gerry answered with a sigh.
“I’ve been through George and Alabama and think they are beautiful states.”
“Like the saying goes. Nice place to visit but a hell of a place to live.”
“That bad?”
“They hate queers!”
Dan stopped. Took a deep breath. “I don’t like that word.”
Gerry smiled. “Fresh out of the closet?”
“Something like that.”
“Still have the allusions of being straight but have an urge to have sex with young men?”
“Let’s not talk about it,” Dan said.
“Okay then drop the third degree about my upbringing. I take responsibility for who I am and what I have done. Enough said on the subject.”
“There’s my car,” Dan said pointing across the parking lot, over there. “Should I drive us to this hot dog stand? If so, I’ll give the valet my ticket and get the keys.”
Gerry glanced at the Mercedes and made a snorting sound.
“What’s the matter? You disapprove of my car?”
“No, just what I expected. If you don’t drive an expensive car you better not show you face in certain parts of San Diego, especially La Jolla. Of course, those uppity folks try to make everyone believe that La Jolla isn’t a part of San Diego. The snobs.”
“You hate wealthy people, is that it?”
“Only those with a mightier than thou attitude which covers about ninety-nine percent of them,” Gerry glanced into Dan’s eyes. “But I’m beginning to think you might be in that one percent.”
“Damn, you finally said something nice about me,” Dan said and laughed.
“We can walk to the hot dog stand it only two blocks from here?” Gerry said and smiled.
“Is the neighborhood safe?”
“With me along, yeah. I learned to fight in prison . . .” Gerry stopped and glanced at Dan to see his reaction.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that prison can be a tough place for a handsome young man like yourself,” Dan responded without any change in his facial expression having heard the comment the handsome stuttering boy had said to him about his being in prison.
“You sure you still want to have the hot dogs with me? An x-con and all of that.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. In fact now that I know you can take care of yourself, I don’t mind walking.”
Neither on them spoke for a long moment.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I was in prison?”
“No. When you want to tell me you will.”
“I’m . . . I was a cat burglar in Atlanta. Started when I was sixteen after my step father kick me out of the house after he saw me given a goodnight kiss to an older man. I was living in Dothan, Alabama. I had enough money for a bus ticked to Atlanta. Thought I might find an older man to live with,” Gerry took a deep breathe. “I’ve always only been attracted to older men.”
“How did that work out for you?”
“It didn’t. I couldn’t do the sex for pay thing. I was romantic and looking for love. The old men I met were mostly married and looking for a one night stands. One wealthy man took me to his house and before sex he showed me all his jewelry. He had huge diamond rings. I didn’t take the two hundred dollars he offered when we finished, but I did return and steal all his jewelry.”
“So you got caught?”
“Gerry shook his head. No, at least not for five years. I don’t remember all the wealthy gay men I robbed in Atlanta. But it was a lot. They would pick me up in the Society Bar and take me home to have sex. I made it a point to never take money from them. And I didn’t steal from them all, only those that flaunted their wealth with expensive painting or jewelry.”
“That’s some story. But you said prison, so I presume that you did finally get caught.”
“Yes, but not before finishing college with a degree in art history. I had just started getting my sketches and watercolors in some of the better Atlanta galleries when I broke into home of a man I had dated several times believing he was on vacation in Miami when suddenly every light in the house comes on and the doors automatically lock. The man ran into a safe room and called the police. He was surprised when he saw it was me behind the ski mask,” Gerry shook his head. “You know what the man said?”
“What?”
“Son, I liked you so much I was ready to ask you to move in with me. Hell, I would have given you all my jewelry if you had asked,” Gerry said shaking his head. “It was at that moment that I decided that I would never, never steal from another person again. It wasn’t the jail time. It was seeing that I had missed an opportunity to have everything I had ever wanted, love, money and a beautiful home.”
“Wow, that was some story. How did you get to San Diego?”
“I sent some of my sketches to a gallery here. The owner, Matilda, exhibited them and sold several. She offered to vouch for me and give me a job. I got early release and here I am in San Diego walking security at gallery and pushing my paintings.”
Dan smiled. “I thought I saw something special in you the first moment I looked at you playing pool.”
Gerry snickered. “Time for glasses I think.”
Dan just shook his head.
“Well where we are at Hot Dog Heaven. You can have whatever you want on them, but make sure you ask for their chili sauce,” Gerry said as he opened the door for Dan.
“Wow, you were certainly right about that being the best chili sauce. But now I smell like a chili dog from all the spices in the sauce,” Dan said.
“Yes, people will know where you ate supper at tonight. Better get some gum before you kiss someone.”
“Is the gallery opened where you have your paintings?”
“Yeah, it’s near here. It’s small. The owner only shows new artists. And most of my paintings are sketches. I have a few abstracts,” Gerry said.
“Take me to the gallery. I would like to see some of your work. I need more art in the new house. It is much bigger than my old house in LA.”
“Are you
sure,” Gerry said. “You probably will not like my stuff. It’s pretty primitive. No, let’s just go back to the bar for a drink or two.”
“No you don’t! I want to see your sketches,” Dan said shaking his head. “Come on and take me to the gallery. I passed the hot dog test, now show me some of your work.”
“You will be sorry. It will turn you off on art for sure,” Gerry said happily.
“Does anyone else in the bar know that you are a painter?”
“It hard not to as all I talk about is what new paintings I saw. Abstracts and impressionist are my passion. I can’t decide which I like more.”
“It must have been hard on you in prison to be away from art?” Dan said as they walked down the well light street.
“I got permission to do painting in the work shop in exchange for painting a couple of portraits of the warden. That’s how I was able to send my sketches to the gallery here in San Diego.”
“The other prisoners didn’t harass you for being an artist and young and handsome?”
“The Aryans did. I had several fights. Most I won but some . . .,” He paused for a moment as a pained expression flashed across his face. “. . . Some I lost. It’s hard to win when they gang up on you. But even then, they had to pay the price. You see my step father not only made me learn to shoot pool but he had illusions that he could mold me into the next white hope of the boxing world. I was the junior Golden Glove champion of Alabama. I have very quick hands.”
“You are just full of surprises. I don’t think I’ve met someone as interesting and good looking as you are.”
“Thanks,” Gerry said and nodded his head toward a small nondescript building. “We are here.”
Dan stopped. “Well, it doesn’t look like much from the outside. But you know the saying. You can’t tell a book by its cover. So, let go inside.”
Before Gerry could open the door, it swung open and a short handsome man in his early seventies walked out.
“Gerry,” I haven’t see you in a while. Seems that we keep missing each other at the bar. I really like your visit . . .” The man suddenly noticed Gerry’s companion. “Dan! Well imagine meeting you here! I thought you lived in LA? . . .” suddenly the man got an embarrassed look on his face. “Ah . . . are you too . . .”
“No!”
“Yes!”
Gerry and Dan replied at the same time.
“Ah . . . okay it’s a work in progress,” the man said.
“Jack, what are you doing in an art gallery. You have a house full of paintings already,” Dan said quickly.
“I do but as of a few night ago, I am short two.”
“What happen?” Dan asked raising his eyebrows.
“A cat burglar stole two of my lesser valuable paintings. They put some crappy crayon sketches of naked boys in their place. I guess the thief sees himself as an artist. But if you ask me he is a much better thief than he is an artist. If I don’t have toilet tissue I would use his sketches like my father used to use the old Sears and Roebuck catalogs, if you get my drift.”
“That’s too bad,” Dan said.
“Oh, I don’t really care all that much. They were insured for probably more than they were actually worth,” Jack said to Dan. He turned to Gerry. “The sketches the thief left reminded me of some of yours. Well if you were to only take three minutes to do them and in crayon. And the same subject you like to sketch . . . naked boys.”
“That’s what gay men like to buy,” Gerry said his voice sounding slightly defensive.
“Sorry, I have to rush,” Jack added. “I have a dinner date with Spike.”
Dan looked puzzled. “Isn’t that the boy from the bar with all the tattoos?”
“That’s, Spike,” Gerry agreed.
“He’s not the Latino gang banger that he appears to be. He’s an artist. His paintings are actually quite good,” Jack said.
“Don’t let him fool you. Spike has a twelve inch cock,” Gerry said.
Jack laughed. “Well there is that too. And believe you me, he is an artist with it!”
Dan shook his head. “So dinner then a night of art appraisal?”
“Something like that,” Jack said smiling from ear to ear. “Damn, I thought I would never appreciate having such a big mouth,” he added.
“Okay, that’s more information that I need to know,” Dan said jokingly. “Come on Gerry before he makes me blush.”
“Strange that we should run into someone that we both know?” Gerry said as they entered the gallery.
“Yeah, well I’ve never gotten closer to his bedroom than his dining room,” Dan said. “I got to know him while I was a pilot. He regularly flews to Tokyo.”
“Gerry,” someone called out.
“Matilda,” Gerry said recognizing the voice of the owner of the gallery before he even turned around to greet her.
The chubby middle aged woman strolled over as though she was a model on a runway. She held out her limp hand to Gerry. “Sorry, Sugar, but I haven’t sold any more of your little boy sketches. But they have been getting a lot of views.”
“That’s alright, I didn’t expect you to sell some so soon,” Gerry said as he nodded to Dan. “Actually, my friend, Dan, twisted my arm to show him some of my work. So here we are. He’s going to have sore eyes when he leaves.”
The woman with an overly wrinkled face and deep red lipstick shook her head causing her long graying hair to flair out from her head. “Now don’t let him fool you. He has talent, lots of talent. Come on and I’ll show you some of his sketches.”
“I liked your sketches. Especially the ones of the naked boys,” Dan said as they left the gallery. “Where to next?”
“Back to the bar for a beer and then I head home. I have to work at the gallery tomorrow.”
“I was hoping you would come home with me?” Dan said tentatively.
“Dan, I like you. A lot. But you have just arrived in San Diego. I would prefer that you get to know your way around and meet other guys. I have enough men that want one night stands. I not looking to add another to my list.”
“Wow, that’s being blunt. But maybe you are correct,” Dan said sound slightly annoyed. He didn’t speak again until they were in sight of Daddy’s Boys.
“Are you coming in for a drink. I think I owe you one,” Gerry said. “We can chat some more inside,” he added with hint of hopefulness in his voice.
“No, I think I’ll go on home,” Dan said stopping beside the valet’s podium. “Thanks for the hot dogs,” he said as he handed his ticket to the valet as he returned from parking a car. “Maybe I’ll see you around again,” Dan added as Gerry nodded his head before turning and walking away.
Damn! Gerry thought as he entered the bar. He’s the first nice man I meet in months and I give him the cold shoulder. What in the fuck is wrong with me. Why do I always push the ones I really like away and go to bed with the one’s I don’t give a damn about.
Chapter 4
“Why do I keep thinking about bad boy Gerry?” Dan mumbled as he pulled up to the front of the bar. The valet opened to door for him with a smile that probably was meant only to get a bigger tip. Maybe he will be here tonight, Dan thought as he got out and handed the keys to the out stretched tanned hand of the valet. Dan didn’t want to admit it but Gerry’s refusal to go home with him had been unexpected. He had just presumed that when he had agreed to go for hot dogs that at the end of the evening the handsome young man would go home with him.
He had been more sexually excited that evening with Gerry than he had ever been without actually being in bed with someone. Heck, he had had an embarrassing semi-erection all the time he had spent with Gerry. Sure, it had put him off learning that the boy had been in prison, enough so that he almost called it an early night when Gerry told him about his time as a cat burglar. Yet he had instead gone to the art gallery when him. And he was glad he had. They boy was complexed, but basically a good lad. And so damn handsome.
Yes, maybe he will be i
n the bar tonight and we can start all over again, Dan thought as he opened the door to the bar. The scent of stale beer and sexy, sweaty men hit him like a power puff in the nose. Almost instantly he had half an erection as he scanned the faces of the young men at the tables and standing around chatting among themselves or with older men. But nowhere did he see the masculine high cheek boned face of Gerry nor his intense brown eyes that had so drawn him in.
Finally he stopped searching and made his way through the tightly packed bodies to the bar. As the bartender moved down to bar in his direction, Dan remembered his name.
“A glass of red wine, Bucky.”
The acne scared face of the middle aged bartender produced a genuine smile. “Sure thing, Amigo. I actually have a good selection of wines. What will it be Beaujolais, Merlot, or Burgundy?
“You wouldn’t possible have a Cotes de Rhone?”
“Damn, a man after my own heart. That’s my favorite. I keep it for myself!” he said as he eagerly walked down at the far end of the bar and took a bottle out of the wine rack. “I stumbled on his when I visited France a couple of years ago,” he said when he returned. It’s inexpensive but great. I have a wine merchant in town import it for me by the case. Now it is one of his best sellers,” Bucky said as he screwed the corkscrew into the cork. He lifted it out gently. He handed the cork to Dan who sniffed it.
“Wonderful,” Dan said inhaling the fragrance even though he couldn’t tell much from sniffing a cork.
Bucky was beaming like someone had just told him he looked like Tommy Lee Jones as he poured wine into Dan’s glass.
Dan took a sip. “Yes, it’s a great find, Bucky.”
“Bucky, you have finely found someone that appreciates your taste in wines,” someone said from behind Dan.
Dan turned and found the preppy young man he had seen the night he had met Gerry. A name popped into his mind.
Heart Thief Page 2