New Kid
Chapter Ten
“Bri, you look even better than I remember you.” Keith came towards him, hand extended and giving a firm grip when Brian accepted the gesture.
“Would you like something before we get started? Coffee. Water?” Cynthia had no idea what was going on, but something was up here. Brian had practically shit a brick when the man walked in. On the other hand, her boss was one of the primo drama queens on the Eastern Seaboard, so it could have been anything—or nothing.
“Coffee, please, if it’s no trouble. Black. Thank you.” She left to get the drinks as the two men sat on opposite sides of the large desk. “I take it you didn’t expect me today, Bri?”
“I was expecting the head of Multitech. That’s you, I take it?” He simply nodded. “You’ve done well for yourself. I’ve read the financial reports for your company. You’re billing over fifty million a year with projections for that to double in the next decade.”
“Yes, I’m proud of it.”
Cynthia came back in, handing Keith his cup and Brian his water. “Do you need me?”
“No, I’ll call you of I do.” She went back to her own desk, closing the office door for privacy. Brian looked at Keith for a moment then opened a folio, handing one to Keith. “Shall we get to it?”
“Are you well, Brian?”
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you. On page two I’ve outlined a few basic concepts as to what I think would be a successful strategy for your campaigns…”
“I wanted to see you, Brian. That’s why I arranged this meeting. I thought that if I called your home you might not talk to me.”
“I probably would have spoken to you.” He looked back at the folder on his desk. “I think that your company lends itself to a combination of heavy print and some TV spots. The TV would help raise awareness of what exactly Multitech does and the print would fill in the details. I think that if you went for the newsweeklies and, obviously the technical journals it would be effective…”
“I’ll look at this back in my hotel tonight. I prefer to make my own decisions about this sort of thing and I’m perfectly capable of reading a report.” Closing the folder, he sipped his coffee. It was quite good. “Have dinner with me.”
“I’m busy this evening, thank you.”
“You’re a partner in an ad agency. I’m a potential client and I would like to be taken out to dinner to see if we have any chemistry together. It’s important that we’re on the same page.”
“I told you that I have plans.”
“Break them or I take my business elsewhere.” He was smiling as he said it.
Fuck it. Brian was pissed—he hated surprises and he especially he hated shit like this. Either Keith was looking to get laid or he was—shit, who knew what the fuck he wanted, but Brian hated shit like this. On the other hand, maybe he could get some answers to questions he’d had for fifteen years. “Fine. I’ll meet you at Gallagher’s at six thirty.”
“Good.” Keith stood up to go. “Have your legal people draw up the contracts. I’ll sign them tonight. You’ve got the exclusive, you decide whatever you need.”
Still seated, Brian nodded, not bothering to say goodbye as the other man made his way out. Picking up the phone, he first dialed down to Legal to have the paperwork rushed then dialed Justin’s cel to explain that he would be back late because of having to entertain a client. The boy wasn’t upset, saying that he had a project to finish and would be waiting for him when he got home.
He glanced at the clock. Four thirty. “Cynthia? I’m leaving early. I’ll see you tomorrow. If Vance is looking for me tell him that we got Multitech and that I’m taking the CEO out for dinner and wanted to get ready. Legal is going to bring up the initial binders in about an hour, leave them on my desk and I’ll get them on my way to the restaurant.”
His original plan, such as it was, included a trip back to the loft for a shower—with Justin if at all possible—and some chill time to gather himself for the meeting later. On the way to Tremont he reconsidered and turned left instead of right, ending up at Schenley Park, strolling through the pathways and down to Phipps Conservatory at the bottom of the big hill. He’d never told anyone how much he liked the place and that he often came here to think. He would turn off his cel, find a spot on one of his favorite benches and just mull things over.
It was his secret spot. He’d been coming here since he was a teenager.
He was thirty-one, Keith was thirty-four. They hadn’t seen each other since the end of Keith’s senior year and they hadn’t had a conversation since the night of Jamie’s party.
At first Brian had thought about him hourly, dreaming about him and plotting ways to get his own scholarship to Southern Cal. He would try to think of ways to keep up with what Keith was doing, how college was going for him, whether or not he had friends—if he had found a new lover. He learned, by listening in the locker room that a couple of the boys had heard that he’d broken his leg skiing one winter and couldn’t play soccer or run any more. By the time Brian was a junior in high school, his feelings had hardened and he actively hated the other boy. He saw the broken leg and ruined athletic career as fair justice.
When he was a senior in college himself, at Penn and not at USC, he saw a wedding announcement in the local paper while visiting Mikey over Easter Break. Keith had married some pretty blonde in LA. Mr. and Mrs. White would be making their home in the Valley. Mr. White was president of a small computer company that he had founded, Multitech. Mrs. White was an elementary school teacher. They had honeymooned in Tahiti.
From the time he was in High School to the present day, whenever Brian heard the name ‘Keith’ his stomach would tighten and he would have to take a moment to stop his reaction. It happened again this afternoon. He still wasn’t over the fucker. No one knew.
Shit.
He was having dinner with Keith.
Keith.
Keith had told him that he loved him and then had dropped him like he was a fucking ton of lead without a backwards glance and now he had to deal with the shithead.
Of all the gin joints in the world, he had to walk into Vanguard.
Shit. Obviously this wasn’t an accident. The question was now to find out what the fucker wanted.
Shit. Fuck.
He noted, with some detachment, that his palms were slightly sweaty and his heart was beating faster than usual. Keith had looked good. He was still handsome and lean. His hair was still thick and he still had that air of kindness about him that had meant so much a decade and a half ago.
He also had a wedding ring on his Goddamned finger.
Shit.
He toyed with the idea of asking Justin to stop by the restaurant, but didn’t. That wouldn’t be fair to the kid and besides—what did he really think it would prove? That he could get someone else? That he wasn’t a complete loser?
He was on his own.
A couple of hours later he was being seated at a corner booth at the local steak place. Keith had beaten him there and was looking over a copy of the Pittsburgh Post Gazette. He smiled when Brian sat across from him.
“I’m glad that you came. I was afraid that you might change your mind.”
“Why did you want to see me, Keith? I’m not that hard to find. If you were curious about my life, you didn’t have to go to the trouble and expense of actually hiring me. I mean, you could have just called.”
The waiter came by; they gave their drink orders. They both opted for beers. Neither one wanted to get wasted.
“I wanted to be sure that you’re alright.” He held up his hand. “No, I wanted to see for myself. I did a crappy thing to you. I treated you badly and I still feel guilty about that.”
Brian sat back against the bench, regarding Keith for a minute then spoke quietly. In fact he was beyond the anger he’d felt for years, he’d dropped it when he and Justin had gotten back together and it looked like it would last a while. With Justin in his life it didn’t matter as much. Oh, it still sucked—what Keith had done—it just had lost some of its importance in his life. The scar had mostly stopped hurting.
Their beers arrived and they gave the waiter their orders. Alone again, Brian asked what he’d wondered since he was barely fifteen. “So why did you do it?” The answer couldn’t really matter now, he just wanted to know.
Keith took a drink of his beer, sighed and started talking. “I was in love with you. I want you to know that. All that stuff I said to you—I meant all of it. I really did want us to stay together and get a place, move in and live happily ever after. I had this idea that you could stay in my old room at my parent’s house when I went to SC. People would just think that they’d taken you in because of your shitty home life and then I’d come back for Christmas or summer break and we could just pick up where we left off. I really thought that we could do that.”
“At the time I would have given an arm if that happened.”
Their salads were placed in front of them, they ate as they talked.
“I know. My parents were willing to take you in. I think they told you that.” He looked at Brian who nodded in affirmation. Yes, they had offered and he had practically jumped at the chance. He had turned them down after Keith had cut him off.
“And then Jamie walked in on us and knew that we were fags and you panicked.” Brian said it as a fact, not an accusation.
He shook his head. “Not for the reason you think. I didn’t give a fuck about being outted. I was leaving the school in a week anyway—they couldn’t do anything to me. I was afraid of what would happen to you if anyone found out—I mean if they really knew it as a fact and not just as a rumor.”
That was the reason. Of course. He had wondered about that. “…So you pushed me off a cliff.”
“I knew that you’d keep calling, that you wouldn’t give up. I knew that you loved me. I had to cut you off so that you could still walk down the halls—you still had three years to go in that place.”
Just like Brian had done to Mikey, just like he’d done to Justin. The Kinney Cliff, he was famous for it, Keith was the one who taught him how. He breathed out a humorless laugh. “You loved me enough to hurt me.”
“I loved you enough to do what was best for you.” Their steaks were there, the untouched salads removed; more beer replaced the empty glasses.
“That was fifteen years ago. Why did you show up now?”
“…I, I don’t think a week has gone by since then when you haven’t crossed my mind. I kept up with you. I stayed in touch with Wilkins and would ask how you were doing. I found out about the scholarship and then followed your career at Penn. I knew your major and figured that it was just a matter of time before you appeared in the business sections of the local papers. I was right.” He took another long drink of the beer. “Then I found out about that bashing a year or so ago with that kid. Your name was attached to the articles so it was easy to keep track of you. Is he OK now?”
“Justin? Yes, he’s made almost a full recovery.”
“Is he still your lover?”
Brian was cutting his meat, putting the sour cream on his baked potato. He wasn’t interested in where this seemed to be going. “You’re wearing a wedding ring.”
“Cathy and I are separated. We’ll be divorced in another six months. The papers are already filed.”
“Why did you marry a woman if you knew you were gay?” In fact it was a common enough situation. A lot of men did it and a lot of them ended up divorced, he just wanted to know what Keith would say.
“She was as far from you as I could get.”
Right. Whatever. “So in exchange for us hooking up again, you throw your account to my company?”
Keith ate a piece of his filet, stalling for time. “I tossed the account to you after I did a butt load of research on you and Vanguard. I know your firm’s one of the best on the East Coat and I know that you’re the main reason.”
“Your company is in California.”
Keith just shrugged. “Phones, faxes, e-mails, overnight delivery—it doesn’t matter.”
“Keith…”
“The thing is—the thing is that I’m still in love with you and that’s why Cathy and I are splitting up. She doesn’t know about you per se, she just knows that there’s someone else and there always has been.”
Brian just stared at him in disbelief. Christ on a bike. “Fifteen years and you never picked up the fucking phone? You couldn’t manage a Goddamned Christmas card? Now you walk into my office and I’m supposed to—fuck—what? Fall on my knees or throw myself at you? Maybe we could ride off into the sunset together.” He was incredulous. Infuckingcredible.
“I made a mistake. I knew that as soon as I saw your face that summer—you didn’t know that I’d go over to your street and watch you through your bedroom window. You looked so heartbroken.”
“You think the cliff was a bad idea?” That was an interesting idea. Both times Brian had done it; the people he’d pushed had ended up coming back to him after all.
“The cliff—maybe, I don’t know. I had to make everyone believe that you were nothing to me and that we weren’t lovers. I should have called you from California, though—I should have explained.”
“Why didn’t you?” God, it would have made such a fucking difference.
“I was scared and I was a kid. I didn’t know what to say to you.”
“I waited for almost three years. Every time the phone rang I wanted it to be you. When I left for college, I stopped thinking it would happen.”
Keith took a deep breath. “Bri, I can wait. I can take time with this—Look at you—you’ve become as amazing as I knew you would. There’s no hurry. We can take it slow; get to know each other again. Take as much time as you need.”
Brian had heard enough. OK, Keith might even still really be in love with him, or at least with his image of him, but shit… “I’m with someone.”
Keith just stopped. “…It’s serious?”
“Yes.”
“Are you in love with him?”
The sixty-four dollar question. OK, just jump in the deep end, what the fuck. “Yes.” God, it wasn’t that hard to say, after all.
“Is it that kid? The one who got hurt?”
“His name is Justin.”
Shit. Keith had been afraid that something like this might happen. When he’d begun reading about the incident he could picture Brian defending the kid in that garage, just like he had tried to defend him against Jamie’s accusations all those years ago. That was Brian—if he loved you he’d do anything to make it right for you.
Well, so would he. The kid was young and Brian might even be in love with him now, but the kid would grow up and change—it was inevitable. It had to happen. He’d keep Multitech’s account at Vanguard or wherever Brian moved to and he’d keep track of how things were going. In a year or two or five, he’d be waiting. He’d make it up to Brian; make it up to him for hurting him.
Brian had loved him once; he could make him love him again.
Half an hour later the two men went their separate ways. Brian had the signed preliminary contracts in his briefcase and Keith had hope.
On the drive back to Tremont Brian thought, for about the thousandth time, about how Keith had changed his life.
He had introduced him to the cliff, he had hurt him and he had been both the first person he’d loved and his first lover.
He had become a good man, or so it seemed, if not a happy one and Brian truly wished that he were happy. He was probably a good man and he deserved happiness as far as Brian knew. He seemed to be trying to get his life on the track it should have been on all along, but Brian didn’t really want to ride with him anymore.
Maybe if he had called from California things would have turned out differently—fuck, of course they would have. He’d be out in LA at some firm out there and coming home to Keith every night instead of Justin.
God he had loved him.
It occurred to Brian, as he walked up the four flights of stairs to the loft that the two men he’d fallen in love with were both needy while seeming to be the opposite—Justin because of his age and inexperience, Keith because he was incomplete without someone else—either his wife or Brian to make him whole and he wondered why he needed to take care of people and if he’d ever want someone to take care of him for a change.
Maybe. It might make a nice change.
Who would he rather did the job? Who would he hire to take that assignment on, the ‘taking care of Brian’ assignment?
Mikey would make him insane. Justin would want candle lit dinners between rounds of fucking and his painting and Keith would let him be himself even if he had to push him off a cliff to do it.
He and Keith would be working together, that was one of the clauses in the contract, he had to head the account, and he was the contact person.
He slid the door open, saw Justin’s face come up from the computer monitor he’d been working on. He lit up with the sunshine smile.
Shit.
This could get complicated.
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