I doubt this would ever become a reality because Delilah came here under a set of particular circumstances, but Benjamin’s attitude irritates me so much, I decide to push his buttons a little more. “She might be a bit junior, but she’s extraordinarily sharp. I’m sure with a few weeks of training under her belt, she’ll be as proficient as the other members of my team.” I raise an eyebrow, still startled by how easily he puts Delilah down.
Benjamin has been working at the gallery for a year and a half now and in that time I’ve come to know him very well. He’s not one to back out of a debate. He’d rather die than be wrong.
He slides closer to me on the U-shape leather bench. I could distance myself, but I wait to see where this is going. “Why would you bother with someone with so little experience when I can be of much more help?” Are my ears deceiving me or did he coo his answer? And is he batting his eyelashes at me?
Okay, I didn’t see that one coming. “You already have an established list of clients, you work with some of the most sought-after artists and from what Ashley tells me, you’ve sold an impressive number of pieces each and every single month without fail since she hired you. I doubt you’d want to leave all that behind,” I say before taking another sip of wine.
“I might be persuaded to change camps.” It’s unlikely.
“Benjamin, I do pay my employees well and I’m quite generous when it comes to sharing bonuses, but it’s nothing near the commissions from your sales,” I argue.
“Well, let’s just say that sometimes in life it’s more than just about the money.” Bollocks. Benjamin is a self-confessed money whore. He makes no secret of how much he drops on his imported Italian shoes and the stylish suits he purchases from high-end retailer Harvey Nichols.
What brought on this change of heart? “What do you mean?”
“Perhaps if you and I were working closer together, it might be a great opportunity for us to get to know each other a little better… or a lot better,” he says, placing his hand on my thigh. Blimey. What the hell? That was exactly my plan for Delilah, not Benjamin. “From my experience, straight guys shamelessly boast about their conquests. When you’re gay, you tend to be more reserved and careful because you don’t know who’s going to judge you or, even worse, crucify you. I never talk about my conquests at the gallery, but Greg doesn’t seem to have any problem sharing. That guy gets more action than the most promiscuous gay guys I know. It’s ridiculous how he puts me to shame.” Benjamin chuckles.
I have to admit I’ve also been taken aback by Greg’s gargantuan appetite for women. I don’t pretend to be a Buddhist monk, but unlike Greg, I do discriminate.
“I’ve never heard you talk about anyone you’re seeing.” Benjamin inches closer. “I hope it means you swing my way.”
Ah. I see now where this is going.
His message couldn’t be clearer. I’ve been working in the artistic field since I was a teenager. It’s not the first time a man has come on to me.
I tread carefully. After all, this guy sitting next to me works for one of my most important vendors. “So you think I’m gay?”
Benjamin flashes me a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay, you can be honest with me. I was in the closet for a long time.” His eyes are pleading. I’ve never seen this softer side to him before. Too bad he’s barking up the wrong tree.
“Well, I’m not,” I state firmly.
With all the commotion around us, the hungry patrons are more focused on wolfing down their food than listening in on other people are talking about. The staff is busy serving everyone, which means their attention is elsewhere. The fact that we’re seated at a table that’s a little more secluded doesn’t hurt. In other words, no one is listening in on this over-the-top conversation.
“Oh, thank God. So you’re not hiding.” Benjamin nearly bounces off the bench with excitement at his own false assumption.
I open my mouth, ready to crush his hopes and dreams, but he moves his hand up my thigh. My jaw locks. It’s nowhere near my cock, but it’s still too close for comfort. I need to put an end to this. Now. There are a couple ways a straight man can approach this incredibly awkward situation. I decide to take the high road. “Benjamin, just because I choose to remain quiet about the people I see doesn’t mean I’m gay.”
“You’re not?” He’s doing a poor job of concealing his disappointment.
I shake my head. “I’m as straight as Greg is. It’s not in me to kiss and tell to anyone willing to listen.” I prefer to share those details with my best friend and a few other close mates. Being discreet about my conquests is a habit I was forced to adopt during the glory days of my former career.
“Oh.” Benjamin pulls his lips down and looks as wounded as a child who just found out the Easter Bunny is only a fairytale. For a few hopeful minutes I think I’ve averted a catastrophe, but what comes out of his mouth nearly knocks me off my feet. And let’s not forget, I’m sitting down. “Maybe you’d like to experiment? You know…” His sentence may trail off, but the way he’s looking at me leaves no room for misinterpretation.
I’m shocked by his boldness. Most gay guys usually drop it once they find out there’s no hope in hell we’ll end up together, but Benjamin is particularly persistent. It’s not like I haven’t spelt it out for him.
“Benj—”
He doesn’t allow me to refuse. “Ethan, there’s so much more I can offer than a woman ever could.” I doubt that. “I bet you have a very big cock.” You have no idea. “I’d love to suck you off. It’s my biggest fantasy.” Not a chance. “You don’t have to return the favor. It’s all about you. I’ve had these types of illicit hook-ups with a few straight guys. Not that I want to brag, but they all loved it.” He leans in even closer. “I can promise you’ll come harder than you would with any woman.”
You’re dead wrong there since I doubt I’ll be able to get it up, let alone come.
It seems the more forward Benjamin becomes, the more the noise level in the restaurant rises. That’s a good thing considering how far this conservation is derailing. “Call me old-fashioned, but if you’re okay with another man sucking you off, then you’re hiding deep in the closet. It might work for some of your friends, but it’s not something I’d ever consider.” I grab his hand and move it away from my thigh before continuing. “I like women.” Especially when they look like Delilah. “A lot,” I add for extra measure. I hope he gets the message this time.
Benjamin blinks a few times before speaking again. “Oh, so I don’t stand a chance?”
Wow. It’s no wonder he’s the number one salesperson at the gallery. This guy is as stubborn as a mule. He foolishly thinks that if he asks me the same question in a different way, he’ll trick me into saying yes. That’s never going to happen.
I shake my head again. “I’m afraid not.” It’s my turn to lean really close to him. “I’m sorry, mate. Unless you have a pussy and big tits, you’ll never get to see my cock, let alone have it in your mouth.” End of story.
* * *
You can imagine that after that uncomfortable heart-to-heart, there isn’t much to say between Benjamin and I. We sit there in silence for a few minutes, suddenly fascinated by the crowd of Japanese tourists, until he mumbles that he has to run back to the gallery to take care of this urgent thing he’s forgotten. Without looking at me in the eyes, he stumbles out of the booth and nearly sprints to the door. I’m grateful I don’t have to see him until next week. Hopefully by then he’ll have gotten over the embarrassment. I know it won’t take me long to put this behind me.
When it comes time to settle the bill, Charles informs me that Ashley has already taken care of it. I top up the tip and make my way out. Normally, I’d hire a taxi to drive me back to the office to tie up loose ends before my business trip tomorrow. That said, after this painful conversation, I need to clear my head. Since it’s only four-thirty, I decide to walk.
“The air is so cool for this time of the year,” I say to myself as I turn my l
apel up in the hopes of sheltering my neck from the breeze. Although it’s the third week of June, you’d never know. I’m a born-and-bred Londoner and with each passing year, I’m more and more convinced summer is an elusive fantasy for us Brits. When you live in this part of the world and you’re surrounded by the North Sea, you’d be foolish to expect Ibiza weather, but still a little warmth wouldn’t hurt. I guess I shouldn’t complain too much. At least it’s not raining.
I’ve already been combing the streets for half an hour when my phone rings as I pass in front of a park. I reach for my iPhone, but I’m not quick enough. Damn. Since I stopped in the middle of the pavement to pick up the call, I’m annoyingly in the way. I decide to head to the park to see who called. I’ve barely fetched my phone from the inside pocket of my jacket before it rings again. This time, I’m quick enough. I smile when I recognize my best friend’s number. The timing couldn’t be better.
CHAPTER 5
Xander
Since my best friend and I have been missing each other all week, I decide to get up earlier—despite another night of wild, debauched partying and fucking in the City of Angels that ended at five o’clock—to connect with him. I’m flying back home in a few days and although there’s nothing quite like California, I do miss London and I miss hanging out with Ethan.
I can’t believe I managed to get up considering my head didn’t hit the pillow before six this morning. In order to survive this day, I order room service and a double shot of espresso. I wolf down the deluxe continental breakfast in no time and wash it down with the coffee. It’s amazing how hungry I am. When I’m done, I realize that one cup of coffee won’t do. Not after last night. I order a second one, desperate for a jolt of energy. When the hotel staff comes to my door, I don’t even bother letting him in. I down the espresso coffee as he’s still standing at my door. Needless to say, his jaw drops.
Thank God for caffeine. The second cup of dark goodness gets my engine running. Once satiated and half human again, I decide to call my best friend. I dial his number, but technology isn’t cooperating. “What happened?” I ask aloud when the call ends after only a few rings. “Strange. Oh, well, let me try again,” I mumble, ringing him up again. The second time is the charm because after seven days of mostly misses, I’m lucky enough to finally speak to Ethan. Honestly, other than my parents, he’s the only person for whom I’d be willing to roll out of bed after only two hours of sleep.
“Ethan,” I cheer.
“Xander!” His tone matches my enthusiasm.
“How are you doing, mate?” I ask.
“I’m good. And you?”
“You know how hectic business trips are. I’ve been here for a week and I’m still jetlagged.” I chuckle.
“Indeed I do. From your update, it seems things are going smashingly well for you.”
I nod into the phone, even though I know he can’t see me because I’m a world away. “Ethan, this might be my best trip out here yet,” I say, excited.
“You’ve worked really hard. You’ve certainly earned it, Xander.”
“Thanks, mate.”
Ethan and I are cut from the same cloth. Our fathers instilled in us values that we still hold close to our hearts today. When we take something on, we go all the way or we don’t bother at all. This driving force explains why we excel at our second careers. It was inconceivable for us to just sit back on our laurels and retire at the tender age of twenty even with the colossal fortune we amassed.
“I can’t believe you left London a little over a week ago and this is the second time we actually speak to each other. It seems like it’s been much longer than that.”
“I know. I feel the same. It’s been non-stop for me since I landed in California. The long days of back-to-back meetings definitely makes it feel like I’ve been out here for an eternity. That said, there are some phenomenal perks.”
“You don’t say.” Ethan is already on to me.
“Definitely. Cali is all business, but God is she ever pretty.” I laugh. I heard that line from a song blaring from the speakers of a classic Chevrolet Corvette Stingray that stopped at a red light a few days ago on my way to a recording studio and it stuck.
“All business?” Ethan stresses.
“Well, almost.”
“So we’re really talking about all the pussy you’ve been fucking.”
“Perhaps,” I quip.
We laugh.
“Lucky bastard. You get willing pussies and nearly fifteen hours a day of freaking sunshine.”
“If it’s any consolation, I don’t know how much of this blinding sun I can take. You do realize I’m forced to take two showers each and every day. Well, three if I hook up with a willing pussy,” I tease.
“Funny.”
“I thought so. I gather London is bright and sunny as usual. Are you spending much time working on your tan?” I mock.
“Pardon me while I ignore you,” Ethan says. I can almost see him point his finger inside his mouth as if he’s puking his guts out.
I chuckle. “Seriously, every time one of us has to travel abroad for business, I’m always reminded of how much time we spend together. We’re inseparable. We need to make new friends,” I joke.
“I agree.” Ethan laughs. “I think it’s unrealistic for either of us to expect anything else considering we’ve known each other since we were three years old.”
“I guess you’re right.” Ethan is one of the rare people on this planet I’d die for.
“Our friendship runs deeper than many blood siblings I know.”
It’s something I’ve observed as well. Our tight bond has been a blessing over the years and I believe it’s kept us grounded because no matter what, we’ve always had each other’s back. But there’s a flip side to everything. Most women we’ve dated find our unshakable friendship and our particular living arrangement intimidating. I guess that explains why our relationships are so short-lived.
“All right, mate, enough of this sappy talk. We sound more like teenage girls than successful businessmen,” Ethan says before changing the subject. “Are you already sitting on the beach with your shades pulled over your nose, sipping on a stiff drink? I’m willing to bet my fortune that there’s not a cloud in the sky,” he teases.
“First off, I’m not an alcoholic. I at least have the decency to wait until lunchtime to start drinking,” I say, feigning being insulted. “And just to be clear, I started my day with strong coffee and not whiskey,” I add. “Second off, you’ve always been the one to take calculated risks. There’s practically no chance whatsoever for you to lose that bet. It’s a little past nine o’clock in the morning, I’m standing in front of the very large window of my hotel room and it’s blue sky as far as the eye can see. There’s not a trace of a white cloud.” I know very well that I’m pouring salt on an open wound, but I can’t help it. I’m sure my answer irritates the heck out of him.
“Wanker.” He chuckles.
I let out a long, theatrical exhale. “I swear, at this rate, I’ll come back home with a serious tan. You won’t even recognize me.” I’m on a roll now.
“Thanks so much for rubbing in the fact that you’re in paradise, while I’m stuck here in ever-grey London. This weather is dreadful,” Ethan complains.
“That’s because you don’t have the cool career that affords you the luxury of traveling out here to oversee your clients’ skyrocketing careers. The best you can hope for is New York City. The temperatures there may soar, but the level of humidity will suffocate you,” I jest.
We both laugh.
“Seriously, are you just getting up?” he inquires.
“I am. I don’t have to rush since my first meeting isn’t until twelve. I have plenty of time to ease into my day. I just really wanted to talk to you.”
“Really? You missed me that much?” he mocks.
“Oh, shut up, will you?”
“Where did the love go, bro?” he asks innocently.
“I’m going to
ignore you and keep talking,” I reply. Ethan’s boisterous laugh rings on the other end. “As I was saying, with the eight-hour time difference and how busy our schedules are, we’ve been missing each other. I wasn’t sure if you were in a meeting or not, but I decided to take a chance. I’m glad I was able to catch you because text messages aren’t the same.”
“You’re right. It’s good to hear your voice, Xander.”
“The first time I called it got cut off only after a few—”
“I heard my phone ring, but didn’t have time to pick up.”
“Were you with a client?” I ask.
“Well…” He hesitates. “I was dealing with a messy situation earlier.”
“You’re having problems with one of the galleries?”
“No. All my relationships with my vendors are solid. Thank God.”
“If that’s not the case, it can only be one thing then. Someone you shagged came back begging for you to fuck her again?” I snicker.
“That wouldn’t be a messy situation, it would simply be a question of coordinating our schedules.” He laughs aloud.
“Good one,” I concede. “I’m fresh out of guesses, mate. What sort of drama did you avert before I called?”
“Hold on for just one second.”
“Okay.”
“The coast is clear,” he announces. What? “I was looking around me to make sure no one is within earshot.”
“That bad?” What is Ethan dealing with?
“The last thing I want is to traumatize a small child with what I’m about to reveal.”
“Now you have me worried,” I confess.
“You’ll understand why I said that in a minute. It’s behind me now, but one of the curators I work with offered to suck my cock.”
“And you said no for professional reasons or is it that she doesn’t turn you on?” I’m nearly on my back laughing.
“I know in your business anything goes and sexual depravity is just a rite of passage.” He pauses for effect. As a matter of fact, he’s right. “This is different. I refused because it was a man.”
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