The Gus Diaries

Part 89

New Clients II
 

On the way back to Red Cape I took a detour. I couldn’t see; my eyes were blurry, filling with moisture. I didn’t want Uncle Michael to see me like this, and I certainly had plenty of time left for my lunch hour.

Changing my course, I turned up the block and ran two more streets over to the Taylor Bloom Gallery.

When I swung the door open, the first thing I saw was my mother filling out some sort of paperwork for a patron. She immediately looked up, and I was glad to see she showed concern when she saw me. I must have looked like shit, but she wasn’t the one I was there to see. Hell, I hadn’t seen her in weeks -- not since she’d started fantasizing about going to NYC with her boyfriend who she had since broken up with.

Hurrying along to the rear office and studio, I started calling for Pop in a hushed voice so as not to disturb the front area of the gallery anymore than I had already.

“Gus, what’s wrong?” Pop stepped out of his office. “You look like you were just chased down the street by a wild animal.” He came up to me and brushed his hand gently over my cheek. I leaned into Pop’s touch, hating my dad even more.

“It’s Dad.” I didn’t know what else to say so I stopped there.

“Brian just called. He’s very worried about you. In fact, he said you made a crazy spectacle of yourself at the diner and ran off.”

“I made a spectacle of myself -- what about him?”

“What about him?”

“He was with... fuck!” I wanted to tell Pop everything. Hell, he’s always been my confidant and now...

Pop took my hand and guided me into his office, shutting the door behind us. He first pressed the intercom to tell Mom we shouldn’t be disturbed, then he picked up the phone and hit a speed-dial button. “Brian, where are you?”

He listened and started pacing.

“I see. Well get here as soon as you can; he’s with me.”

Pop paused, running his hand across the top of a large crate.

“After you deal with Michael, let him know his employee will be returning later than expected from lunch.... later.” He disconnected and put the phone back in his pocket.

I looked at Pop, feeling somewhat embarrassed, and wondered what I should say next.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“Where’s Dad?”

Pop sat down behind his desk and gestured for me to take one of the seats on the opposite side. “He’s at Red Cape Comics. He told me he had to abruptly end a casual client luncheon at the Liberty Diner because you ranted and raved, telling him you hated him.” He clasped his hands together, resting them on the desk and took a deep breath. “Pardon the expression, but what the fuck was that all about?”

“Why is he at the comic shop?”

“Because he thought that’s where you’d be. Instead, he found a very nervous Michael. Your dad also mentioned that Michael was telling him an extremely interesting story that he’d like to share with us.”

“No! He can’t!”

“Gus, I repeat -- what the fuck is going on?”

“He can’t tell you -- I won’t let him hurt you.”

“There is nothing Brian and I keep from one another. That’s part of love, partnership, marriage. We’re completely honest.”

“Most of the time.” I quickly put my hand over my ridiculously loose lips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Now it was my turn to stand up and start pacing. I combed my fingers through my sweaty hair. “It’s just that Dad hasn’t been totally honest with you about something.”

“Oh really. Care to share?” Pop seemed too casual and relaxed -- I felt terrible having to be the one to tell him what Uncle Michael had heard earlier that morning.

“I’d rather Dad tell you.”

“I would be happy to, Sonny Boy.” I jumped when Dad walked up behind me. “But first tell me why you would dare jump to any kind of foolish unsubstantiated conclusions before speaking to me.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I thought you planned to be a thorough and well-respected investigative reporter. It would seem when given the opportunity to show your skills, you failed miserably and almost hurt others in the process. Do you know what that’s called in your line of work?”

I nodded.

“Well, let me hear it.” Dad was clearly uber-pissed.

“Yellow journalism.”

“Give our son a gold star. At least he got one thing right today.”

Pop walked over to Dad and gave him a brief and tender kiss on the lips. “Brian, would you please enlighten me? Why does our son think you’re keeping something from me?”

Dad put his arms around Pop and looked directly into his eyes. “That’s because I was keeping something from you.” Pop glared at Dad and started to pull away, but Dad held him firmly. “However, it wasn’t what Michael, Gus, or Emmett thought it was.”

I quickly added, almost whispering, “Don’t forget Jeff and Grandma Deb.”

“Shit! It’ll be on the six o’clock news if we don’t deal with this quickly.”

“Brian, I’m beginning to feel very left out and even more concerned. Now let’s sit down on my sofa so you can tell me this big goddamn mystery before it spreads like wildfire.”

“Dad, you can’t tell him -- please don’t hurt Pop!”

“That’s what I was trying to avoid, Sonny Boy. But unfortunately, thanks to you and Michael, it can no longer be avoided.”

I could see creases forming on Pop’s forehead. “Brian?”

“Okay, Sunshine, here goes.”

“Don’t Sunshine me, just spill.”

“You’re beginning to sound like Deb.”

“She doesn’t rest until she gets answers either.” Pop’s face was reddening.

“I have a new client.”

Pop tilted his head. “If you say that’s it, I may have to strangle you -- keep going.”

“You’re right, there’s more.” Dad took Pop’s hands in his. “This man is very successful in his field. He runs a big grocery store chain that’s well known across the entire east coast and as far west as the Mississippi River.”

Pop nodded, awaiting more information.

“He’s gay and his younger brother is a new busboy at the diner, so we went there to eat.”

Pop’s voice took on an impatient edge. “Brian, what aren’t you telling me?”

“The guy was insistent about wanting to revisit Babylon, now that he’s back in town, and prior to that have dinner at a nearby restaurant.”

Pop started to speak but Dad held a finger up to his lips to stop him. “He knows I’m totally unavailable. Since he’s such a fucking huge account, twenty-five million dollars for print, TV, and radio...” Pop whistled when he heard the number. “...I felt I couldn’t turn down his request to live it up for one night while I acted as his host and guide -- nothing more.”

I jumped in, unable to control myself. “Then why the hell did you want to keep it from Pop?”

Pop looked at me and then back to Dad. “Is that part of the plan, not to tell me? I don’t understand.”

“Because he’s someone who might bring back some fucking shitty memories from our past. He reminds me of a time and some behavior I’d like to forget.” Dad lowered his head. “It was a time when I treated you like little more than a trick; I should have put you on a pedestal and thanked whatever powers that be for having you in my life.”

“Brian, help me here.”

“It’s Brandon.”

Pop actually looked confused, and I certainly had lost track of this conversation a while back. Then it was strange. I could almost see the clichéd light bulb go off over Pop’s head.

“The guy who you had the bet with right before Babylon...”

“...went up in flames -- yes, that asshole.”

“So he’s the jackass who lost the bet so you...”

“I never fucked him -- never!”

“Shit! Do you really need to work with him now?” Pop started fussing with the hem of his shirt.

“I wouldn’t choose to work with him; he sought out my agency because of its reputation. Turning down a twenty-five million dollar account for Kinnetik would be ludicrous and unfair to my employees.”

“You didn’t want to tell me because you knew I’d hate thinking of you even in the same room with that guy.”

“That’s right. I was hoping to slowly break it to you that Brandon and his brother, who is one of the worst busboys I’ve ever laid eyes on...”

Pop smirked. “...even worse than the kid who used to serve water with his fingers inside the glasses?”

Dad laughed out loud. “Yes, worse than him. Anyway, he’s back in town and we’ll have to see him, but there is nothing about him I desire in the least.”

“Are you sure?” Pop gazed into Dad’s eyes as if he were searching for an unspoken answer.

“I’m more than sure. I have the best and that’s all I will ever want.”

Pop crushed his lips onto Dad’s and the two of them went at it for a couple of minutes. I started to slowly back out of the office -- but not soon enough.

“Halt!” I could tell Dad was not happy with me. “Gus Taylor Kinney.”

Shit! He was using my full name -- now I was in deep trouble.

“Don’t you ever listen to any bullshit, especially about Justin, me or any of the family, without getting all the facts before you leap to any insane conclusions. It’s bad enough I had to ream out Michael -- now we’ll have to straighten things out with Emmett, Deb, Jeff, and anyone else they may have talked with.”

“You can always rent a billboard.” I tried to make things lighter, but Dad was having no part of it.

“You almost lost a huge client for my company, but he has experience with run-at-the-mouth teens.” Dad stood up and walked to a far wall in the office, still facing me. “You will write my new client a letter of apology.” I nodded. “Then you will tell Jeff you can not go out this weekend and he can’t visit.” I wasn’t happy but I nodded again.

I noticed a pained look in Dad’s eyes. “Dad, I won’t argue. I’ll do everything you say.”

The look remained and I could see Pop’s look of concern returning -- and then I remembered.

“Dad, I behaved like an asshole at the diner. I said a lot of shit that was stupid, but I also shouted a huge lie out of anger. I love you, Dad -- that will never change -- just like you’ll never stop loving Pop. I know that now.”

I walked up to my Dad and held him tight. When I felt his arms return the hug just as firmly, I couldn’t help myself, my body started to shudder and tears escaped my eyes. “I love you, Dad, I really love you -- I’m so sorry.”

“I know, Sonny Boy.” There was a hitch in Dad’s voice. “I love you too.”

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