by Shawn Bailey
Dimitri chuckled. “I do have my moments. And to answer Trey’s question, I love Eli and I’d follow him to the end of the earth if I have to.”
Justin nearly choked at Dimitri’s confession. And quite frankly it had stunned Eli. Did Dimitri really love him or did he just say that to aggravate Trey?
“Told you that Eli is gay,” Trey said, finally putting a label on him.
“I think you’re jealous,” Dimitri said. He sipped his beer. “In fact, I noticed how you felt about Eli when you brought him into my tattoo parlor and insisted that I tattoo your name on his butt.” Eli glared at Trey. Dimitri should have told him.
“Of course, I didn’t do it,” Dimitri said. “His butt is just too cute to mark.”
Henry groaned.
“I think it is time for us to leave,” Justin said rising.
Henry and Trey rose too, but Trey glared at Dimitri.
“We’ll see you later,” Justin said as he hurried out of the music room.
Dimitri escorted them to the door.
Eli just sat there, stunned and confused. What the hell had just happened? His secret was out of the bag and his friends had hightailed it out of his apartment like they were scared. Did that mean that they no longer wanted to be around him?
Dimitri returned several minutes later. “Awe, what’s wrong?” Eli wiped at the tears as they flowed from his eyes. “Nothing.” Dimitri sat next to him and pulled him into his arms to comfort him.
Now everyone is going to know, and Eli didn’t know if he could handle the pain.
* * * *
“What’s up?” Greer asked Dimitri when he entered the tattoo parlor on Monday morning.
“Nothing much,” Dimitri replied as he prepared for his first customer.
“How was your weekend with Eli?”
“It started out pretty good, and it went straight to hell when his friends arrived and caught us holding hands.”
“Oh,” Greer said, walking over to the coffeepot. “The proverbial cat is out the bag.”
“Yes and the poor darling cried in my arms for hours after they left.”
“I remember what it was like when I came out. All of my so-called friends deserted me.” He filled the cup. “I was so traumatized.”
“Yeah. I’m just glad I was there for him, but he still has a rough road ahead of him. His parents still don’t know.”
“I suppose you won’t be their first pick for a daughter-in-law.”
Dimitri shook his head. “No, Eli’s grade A material. I think they’re expecting him to bring home a princess, not become one.” Greer chuckled weakly at his joke. “You have to have his back when his parents do find out.”
“I plan to,” Dimitri said. “I think I love him.” Greer gasped. “No, not you?”
Dimitri filled his coffee cup. “I’m afraid so. I keep having these dreams of presenting him flowers after his performance at Carnegie Hall. And then there’s one with us running along the beach in Maui with a blond-haired kid in tow.”
“Oh, the family dream. I suppose the two of you will adopt.”
“I suppose,” Dimitri said absently. “Not unless Eli’s little, blonde female friend, Holly, will be willing to be a surrogate mother for us.”
“I highly doubt that,” Greer said. “So how did his friends react to the news?”
“Henry and Justin seemed okay, but Trey acted like an ass.”
“Trey would be the Marine Corps inductee?”
“Yes. He acted like a total bitch, but I think it stems from the fact that he has feelings for Eli too.”
“I noticed that,” Greer said. “He kept watching Eli the entire while he slept in that chair. I just thought he was concerned because Eli was sleepy.”
“I’m afraid he’s going to do something foolish to hurt Eli.”
“Like what?” Greer asked.
“Like tell his parents.”
“Oh,” Greer said. “You think he would do something like that?” Dimitri nodded. “He was pretty mad when he left.” The first customer arrived and the conversation ceased. The man was older than their normal customer, probably in his late fifties and he appeared distinguished in his expensive suit.
“Can I help you?” Dimitri asked.
“I’m looking for Dimitri Miller.”
“I’m Dimitri.”
The man looked him over. “I’m Judge Ambrose Coleman. Eli’s father.”
“Oh,” Dimitri said, jumping to attention. “Then I don’t suppose you’ve come for a tattoo.”
“No,” the man said. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” Dimitri nodded. He led the way upstairs to his apartment. “Eli has your eyes.”
* * * *
Eli sat in a leather chair in the library of their home, waiting for his father. The judge had summoned him over, and Eli had not liked the tone in his voice.
Ambrose entered and Eli rose to his feet.
“Sit down, Eli,” he father said.
Eli eased back into the seat.
“I’m going to make this short and sweet. I want you to end this affair with Miller, and I don’t want you ever to see him again.” Eli gasped. How did he find out? Trey! He moved around nervously in his seat. Damn Trey. He was lucky that he’d left for boot camp or he would have gone over to his house and kicked his ass. All the years they had been friends, Eli never expected that Trey would betray him this way. “I don’t understand what you mean.” Ambrose sat down across from Eli and stared at him. “I know you are having an affair with him. I can’t say that I agree with your choice, and I don’t care that you are gay. Dimitri Miller is not right for you.”
“He is,” Eli said. “I mean, he loves me, and I think I’m old enough to decide who I want to be with.”
“Think about your future. What does he have to offer you? He’s a tattoo artist and he lives above his business in a tiny apartment. And he’s crude.”
Eli shook his head. He knew his father wouldn’t understand.
“And you have absolutely nothing in common.” At least he didn’t say that Dimitri was too old for him. “He’s a violinist.”
“He was a violinist, but he had to give it up because his family was too poor to keep up the classes,” his father said.
“How do you know all this?”
“I have my ways.”
That meant he had Dimitri investigated.
“Being poor does not make him a bad fellow. So he’s had a hard life. Most people have.”
“You haven’t,” Ambrose said. “But you will if you don’t end this relationship.”
At least he wouldn’t starve or be homeless if his father disowned him. Lucky for him, his inheritance from his maternal grandfather kicked in on Eli’s eighteenth birthday. He should be able to support himself until he graduated from college and secured a job. His other inheritance didn’t kick in until he turned twenty-five. He supposed Dimitri would either leave him when he found out just how much he’d be worth then, or stay with him and enjoy the ride. Either way he didn’t care just as long as they were happy. “I can handle this,” Eli insisted. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you want to give your mother a heart attack?” No, he did not go there. “No. Does she know?”
“Not yet,” Ambrose said. “Your mother loves you. What will it do to her when her friends find out that you’re gay?”
“I don’t really care about what a bunch of old women think.”
“You should. And what about your career? Do you think that the world is ready for a gay violinist?”
Eli pouted. His father was being so unfair. “I’ll be discreet.”
“You might be, but your friends won’t be. Trey couldn’t wait to tell me. I won’t say I wasn’t shocked at first, but I consider myself very liberal when it comes to sexuality.”
“Trey is just jealous that I have no interest in him.”
Ambrose cleared his throat.
“Would you have liked it better if I had hooked up with him?”
“At least his father is a lawyer, not the town wino.”
“That’s so not fair.”
“I offered Miller money to stay away from you,” Ambrose finally said.
Eli moved to the edge of his chair. “What? You didn’t?”
“Yes, I did. You are my son, and I will do anything to protect you.”
“Dimitri can’t be brought.”
Ambrose raised an eyebrow. “Oh, no? Everyone has his price.” What did that mean? Did Dimitri take the money? Did he leave him? Funny, he hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days. “How much?”
“One million dollars,” Ambrose said.
Eli groaned. Damn.
Chapter Seven
Dimitri stared down at the check. One million dollars. He still couldn’t fathom that amount of money. Granted, he loved Eli, but a million dollars could mend his broken heart. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t called him in two weeks, and he supposed by now Eli must have found out what his father had done.
Dimitri rose from the couch, upset that he had allowed Eli’s father to turn him into the type of person he despised most of all, someone motivated by money. He’d never been like that and he didn’t know what possessed him to accept the check. Still, he hadn’t cashed it.
That should mean something. Dimitri walked into his kitchen and got a beer. No, it did not change the fact that he accepted it. Poor Eli must be so upset and so angry at him. One minute he’d professed his love to him and the next he just took the money and walked out on him. Eli didn’t deserve to be treated that way, especially since he had been the one to seduce him and take his cherry. If it hadn’t been for him, Eli would probably be a happy teen entering his first year of college.
Now, his friends had deserted him, and the two men in his life that he thought he could trust had deceived him.
He walked back into the living room and sat down. He never figured that Eli’s father would be a snob. The man had turned his nose up at his apartment and at his tattoos. Just because he had money did not mean that he was better than him, just had better advantages.
Yet, he could understand what the man felt from a father’s perspective. Eli was his only child and a father needed to make sure that a child would be taken care of. Right now he could not do anything financially for Eli, but it would not always be that way. He planned to be useful to him in the future. He had dreams beyond being a tattoo artist. In fact, he’d been thinking seriously of returning to music or perhaps giving art another shot.
He got up again and walked over to his violin. Dimitri took down the case and blew the dust from it. Then he opened and removed the violin and bow. He placed the instrument under his chin and began to play. The beautiful music filled his tiny apartment. Afterwards he wiped a tear from his eye, amazed that the instrument still sounded so sweet after all these years, and that he hadn’t lost his skill. Granted, he wasn’t orchestra material, but perhaps he could start out small by performing in some of the local clubs. He and Greer had been part of a group once when they were teens. Greer played a mad set of drums.
Dimitri smiled. Maybe he’d like to get their act together again. He’d run it past him later.
Dimitri put the instrument back into the case and placed it on the shelf. He liked the idea of performing in front of a crowd again.
Maybe he would speak to Mr. Dubisson and get his opinion. Surely he knew some people who could get him started in the right direction.
He sat back down on the sofa and stared at the check again. The idea was good, but it didn’t help his present problem. Maybe he could use some of the money to get his new career on track. He would still have to stay away from Eli until he could prove to Mr. Coleman that he was worthy. No. Eli wouldn’t understand. Dimitri sighed. He didn’t know what in the hell he was going to do. But he had to make a decision soon.
* * * *
Eli dialed Dimitri’s number. It rang a couple of times and then it went to voice mail. He wasn’t surprised. It had been doing the same thing for the last month or so. Damn him. Coward. Dimitri could have at least told him good-bye to his face. Well, he wasn’t going out that way. If he wanted to be a bastard, so be it. He was tired of sitting around in his apartment, moping about some man. He was young, rich, fairly good-looking, and it was a Saturday afternoon. He reached for his cell phone again, surfed through his contact list and dialed a number.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Randall. It’s Eli. What are you doing?”
“Nothing much,” Randall said. “Why?”
“Would you like to go to a festival with me this evening?” He wouldn’t be surprised if Randall hung the phone up in his ear since he hadn’t hung out with him in a long time.
“What type of festival?”
“A music festival. There’s one in Lafreniere Park featuring a lot of good bands. There’ll be some classical performances too.”
“Sure,” Randall answered. “What time?”
“Can you be ready in an hour?”
Randall chuckled. “That depends on if I can get my hair to cooperate.”
“I’ll pick you up in an hour then. And wear something comfortable. We’ll probably have to sit on the ground or something.”
“Will do. See you in an hour,” Randall replied. “Just honk and I’ll come out.” He hung up.
“Yes,” Eli said excitedly. He’d made a date with Randall. Eli hurried out of the music room and ran up the stairs to find something to wear. After finding the perfect outfit, Eli took a shower, dressed, and then dashed out of the apartment. He hopped into his car and drove over to pick up his date for the evening. There were a lot of cars parked outside of Randall’s Garden District home when he drove up.
Eli blew his horn and Randall came out of the house a couple minutes later dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a black T-shirt with Sebastian from the anime Black Butler sprawled across his chest.
Eli smirked. Randall could be Sebastian’s double with the long black hair, slim build and piercing, blue eyes. Why hadn’t he noticed Randall’s androgynous look before?
Randall slipped into the passenger’s seat and strapped the seat belt across his shoulders. “I’m glad you called. Some of my mother’s friends just arrived, and they’re gabbing and trying to fix me up with their daughters.”
Eli chuckled and drove off. Randall’s mother, like his, was always involved in some charity function or another. His father was the CEO
of a major engineering firm, and like him, Randall was also an only child. “Cute shirt.”
“I just got it in the mail yesterday,” Randall boasted. “You can’t find any great anime stuff in New Orleans. It’s all Saints, jazz, and Mardi Gras. Downer.”
“You’re a trip,” Eli teased as he drove. He liked anime too. He’d seen a couple of the Black Butler episodes but never got back to the series. Maybe he’d invite Randall over to his place next weekend and they’d make popcorn and watch a lot of anime.
“What possessed you to call me out of the blue? Your other friends busy?”
“What other friends?” Eli asked. He hadn’t heard from any of those losers in weeks.
“Justin and Henry,” Randall answered.
Eli noticed that Randall didn’t mention Trey. Randall never liked Trey for some reason. Maybe Eli should have listened to Randall.
“Oh, those friends. I haven’t seen them since we graduated and besides, none of them are interested in music.”
“Oh,” Randall said.
“Anyway, you were the first one I thought of though.”
“I was?” Randall asked, surprised.
“Sure. You’re my music buddy and I’ve always wanted to spend some time with you away from Mr. Dubisson’s like we used to do when we were younger.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Eli said, peeping over at Randall when he stopped for a red light.
Randall’s eyes twinkled. “You’re not wearing your glasses.”
“And you just no
ticed. I got contacts,” Randall said. “What do you think?”
Eli studied Randall’s eyes and got the strangest sensation in his balls. They tightened and pulled. He gulped. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to be alone with Randall after all. “They’re nice.” Too nice.
“I always thought you had beautiful eyes and the best damn hair. If I let mine grow that long I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
“My mother has a fit every time I threaten to cut it,” Randall told him. “I think she was a little disappointed that I wasn’t a girl.” The light turned green and Eli drove toward the park. Cars lined the avenue and the neutral grounds. He drove into one of the parking lots and he and Randall got out. The band on stage filled the air with music. By the time they made it to the bandstand area, people were dancing around the stage and on the grassy area, while others barbecued and picnicked.
“Wow,” Randall said. “Look at all the people.” He took Eli’s hand and dragged him close to the stage. Of course they had to hop over a lot of squatters and picnickers to do it. “It’s Brussels,” Randall shouted excitedly.
“Brussels?” Eli asked.
“Man, where have you been? Brussels is one of the hottest indie bands in California.”
“Obviously under a rock,” Eli said, finding Randall’s excitement cute. He’d just turned eighteen two weeks ago, but Randall still had that little boy charm and enthusiasm.
“Let’s dance,” Randall said.
Eli looked at him oddly. Here, out in the public where everyone could see them? Hell, he didn’t even know Randall knew how to dance. He’d always acted so shy in class. Eli watched for a few seconds, transfixed by the way Randall’s hips swayed in the tight blue jeans. He had some pretty smooth moves for an anime geek. What the hell? Eli thought. He was hanging out of the closet already so he decided to step out. He might as well learn to enjoy it.
