"No clue," Quint replied. "Let me call Clay to find out. Or better yet, get him over here." He looked around as he dialed, muttering, "I think there's room." When Clay answered, Quint relayed Lou's question then suggested that Clay join them. "He'll be here in fifteen to twenty minutes," Quint told them after hanging up. "So why don't we put this on hold until he arrives."
"Good," Zack said with an evil grin, "because Trev promised to make supper."
"Hey." Trev shot him a you're kidding look. "I was willing to feed you. But the hordes? No way, no how do I have enough food to do that."
"Pizza," Quint said at the same time Lou called out, "Chinese".
"How about Chinese pizza?" Trev said with a straight face, as he took out his phone.
Eventually they settled for pizza. While they waited, Lou told them about one of his undercover jobs from a few years back. He was interrupted by the sound of the buzzer and went down to check who was there. He returned carrying two pizza boxes and talking animatedly with Clay, who had arrived just as the pizza boy left. Lou continued his discussion, with the others chiming in, as they ate supper.
Then, after putting the dishes in the sink and the empty containers in the trash, they got back to the business at hand.
"We need to get Reflections One back," Quint said.
"From what you told me," Lou replied, "you think they use artwork as collateral for drug or gun purchases."
"That's my best guess."
Lou tapped his fingers together, nodding slowly. "All I have to do is figure out a way to let one of them know I have goods I want to move, for the right price."
"Illegal—possibly counterfeit—prescription drugs, from the receipt I found in a book at Trev's place, when we were packing up his things," Zack told him.
"Oh really now? That's even better. An online seller?"
"Yes."
"That pretty much says that's what they're into then. Or at least one way they're using the stolen art. Quint, I'll have to get with our computer guys to have them set up a bogus site for me. It'll take a day or two to make it look legit and like it's been around for a while. Now all I have to do is…" Lou turned to Quint. "You said one of the people involved runs an ad agency."
"Thomas Carter. He's the one who signed the receipt for the drug delivery."
"That will work. Do you know if his agency handles designing websites?'
"It does, from what little John said about them when he first told me he got the job," Trev replied.
"Excellent. My website"—he winked—"will need redesigning. With the Feds cracking down on the online sale of illegal prescription drugs, I need my site to look absolutely above-board, and who better to do that than a good advertising agency?"
"Think he'll buy that?" Clay asked doubtfully.
Lou grinned. "I'm good at what I do."
CHAPTER SEVEN
While Quint and Lou were setting up their sting, Trev and Clay were working on something very different. The evening after the meeting at Trev's new apartment, Zack had picked Trev up to take him to the studio, where they were meeting Clay. They stopped first at a fast food place to eat. "Not the healthiest food," Zack had commented, "but since I was running late…"
"Hey, it's food," Trev told him. "As tense as I am, I'm not certain I can even finish this."
"You can, and you will," Zack admonished, laughing when Trev grumbled, "Yes, Doctor."
Clay was waiting when they arrived, and a few minutes later he was walking around the studio while Trev watched nervously, praying that Clay wouldn't change his mind now that he had a second chance to look at everything,
Finally, Clay came to a stop next to Trev, saying, "I'm going to allot a third of the gallery to your show."
Trev visibly gulped. "That much? I don't know if…" He looked around his studio. Suddenly every piece he had there seemed…amateurish in his eyes.
"You have enough to fill the whole gallery," Clay said with a smile, obviously misunderstanding Trev's hesitation.
"But only, maybe…maybe three or four that anyone would be interested in."
"Bull," Zack said succinctly from where he stood by Trev's workbench.
Clay laughed. "A man of few words today, Zack?"
"Well it is." His gaze homed in on Trev, full of understanding. "You're scared. That's not surprising. You shouldn't be. You're a damned good artist."
"Believe what he's saying, Trev, because it's true." Clay patted Trev's shoulder, asking, "Before I start choosing which ones to take, are any of these promised to anyone?"
"Yes. When Zack decides which one he wants."
"Me?"
"You're the only Zack I know."
"You're serious?" Zack's gaze immediately went to one of the mobiles. It was a multi-colored creation that looked like floating feathers from a peacock's tail. Trev had created the pieces by annealing thin sheets of copper at various temperatures to create the colors.
Trev smiled shyly. "I hoped you'd choose that one. It's one of my favorites."
"I'm not surprised," Clay commented, as he walked around the studio. It didn't take him long to select fifteen pieces that he wanted for the show.
As they helped Clay box them up to take to the gallery, Zack asked Trev if he'd come home with him to help him find the right place to hang The Peacock, as he called it.
"Of course," Trev replied enthusiastically. Seconds later he wondered if he's sounded too enthusiastic. He might think I believe he's asking something more that he's not. He quickly turned away, feeling his face heat with embarrassment.
"Hey…" Zack came around to look at him. "If you're wondering if I have an ulterior motive," he said very softly, "I do. Does that bother you?"
After taking a deep breath, Trev said, "Not in the least."
*****
"You live in the Ritz," Trev said, awestruck, as he looked around the lobby of the building housing Zack's condo.
"Not hardly. Yeah this part's a bit over-the-top I'll agree, but it's all for show." He pushed the elevator button and the shiny steel doors opened. A minute later they were getting off on the sixth floor. He led the way to 6B, smiling at the look of intense interest on Trev's face when they entered the small foyer of the condo.
"This is not a studio apartment," Trev said as he began exploring. "I like this." He tapped a toe on the dark-stained hardwood floor. "You have a balcony." He gravitated to it, flinging open the doors. "And a hell of a view."
"Two of them actually. One of the reasons I bought the place," Zack told him, setting the box holding the mobile down on the table in the foyer.
"The kitchen's kind of small," Trev commented. He was now halfway across the condo from the balcony. "Cute though. I like the niches by the entrance. Are the bowls for show?"
Before Zack could reply, Trev was back in the living room, standing in front of one of the pieces of art next to the curved, sectional leather sofa. "The Renoir… It's lovely." He gazed at it for a long minute, nodding in appreciation. His next stop was the glass-topped dining table. "Bremers?" he asked, carefully touching the wine and clear-glass sculpture in the center of the table.
"Got it in one."
"You have very eclectic tastes." He walked around, checking out the other artwork. Eventually he ended up at the doorway to Zack's bedroom. "The other balcony. And the bedspread matches the walls. I like the way the nightstands hang onto the walls instead of on the floor."
Zack grinned. "You can hang something on the floor?"
"You know what I meant." Trev checked out the view from the balcony, then went into the bathroom, commenting that the open closet with its shelves and drawers was clever, as they removed the necessity for a dresser in the bedroom. "Have I missed anything?" he asked.
"Nope. Now where should I hang The Peacock?"
"Hmm." Trev went back into the living room and turned slowly. "There, by the windows. That way when they're open, the breeze will set it in motion. Besides which, it's about the only place in here that doesn't have some so
rt of art hanging—or sitting on something."
"Great. Let me get my tools."
Zack was definitely surprised when Trev came to stand in front of him, shaking his head. "Not tonight. It's late and…" Trev cut a glance toward the bedroom.
"Trev," Zack replied quietly. "We said—"
"Well, we can unsay it," Trev retorted. "We don't have to do anything. I just don't want to go back to my hole-in-the-wall after seeing this." He swept an arm around, barely missing hitting Zack in the process. "And you did say you had an ulterior motive for bringing me over here."
"I wanted you to see the place."
"Oh." Trev seemed to deflate at Zack's words. "It's…very nice. Great view of the city. All I see from my place is the street, and—"
"Hey now," Zack said, wrapping his arms around Trev. "That's all I meant…then. Now…" He pressed his lips to Trev's in a gentle kiss. "Now," he murmured against them, "if you really want to stay…"
Trev looked up at him. "Please?"
"I'm not promising anything more than a good night's sleep."
"As long as you hold me."
"Oh I will." Zack smiled at him. "I think holding you is a good way to…start out. That is, if you don't mind my crawling out of bed before dawn."
"Oh, hell. You work tomorrow. I forgot."
"Right now I wish I could too." Keeping one arm around Trev, Zack steered him toward the bedroom. "And Monday, you're back to work."
"Yeah. Not as early as you, thank God."
"Are you looking forward to it?" Zack asked.
"I am, actually." They were in the bedroom by then, and Zack flicked the switch by the door to turn off the living room lights. Trev sat down on the edge of the bed. "After this last week, it'll be great to get back to my normal routine."
"I can well imagine." Zack looked down at him, lifting an eyebrow. "Are you planning on sleeping in your clothes?"
"Maybe?" Trev chewed his lip nervously.
"Feeling shy all of a sudden?" Zack asked, while taking his sweatshirt off.
"Very," Trev admitted, watching Zack. "I wish I could draw like Clay does."
"That was out of the blue." Zack tossed the shirt over a chair then toed off his shoes.
"Not really." Leaning back on his hands, Trev eyed him. "If I could, I'd draw you as…Galahad. No, he'd need armor and that would cover you up too much. Maybe…" He nodded.
"Maybe?"
"Did you ever read Watchmen?"
"Nope. I'm not a fan of graphic novels. Avoided the movie too, although I did see some of the trailers. Why?"
"Remember Doctor Manhattan in the trailers? The blue guy?"
"Vaguely. All muscles and no clothes. Right?"
"Right. If I could draw you as him…"
"Blue is not my color," Zack told him, amused at the thought.
"Your eyes are blue. A perfect blue. Calm, cool, like a deep, mystical lake."
"Good Lord, Trev. What else have you been reading? Romance novels?"
"No." Trev flushed with embarrassment. "It's just…that's how I thought of them the first time I saw you."
Zack smiled. "When you were doped up to the gills."
"Yeah, but—"
"You're definitely an artist. Are you going to get undressed?"
"Are you?" Trev countered, as he pulled off his T-shirt.
"I am. I'll sleep in sweatpants. As a matter of fact…" He went into the closet, returning a moment later with another pair that he tossed to Trev. "More comfortable than your jeans."
"Thanks, I think." Trev took off his jeans, revealing a pair of red-striped boxers. As he put on the sweats, he grumbled, "This is no fun at all."
Sitting down beside him, Zack replied, "Think of it as a movie trailer. You get a glimpse of what will happen, but you have to wait for a week until the movie gets to the theater to see the whole thing."
Trev snorted out a laugh, pulling back the covers as much as possible, considering that they were sitting on half of them. "I guess that works." He moved over, sliding under the sheet. "Are you planning on joining me, or are you just going to sit there, staring."
"Nothing wrong with staring at an interesting, half-naked young man," Zack murmured.
"Well, this is just the preview. Next weekend—the full movie, in living color."
As he finally slid into bed next to Trev, Zack told him, "I am not painting myself blue to fulfill your fantasy."
"Well, damn." Trev leaned on one elbow, looking at him. "Green? Orange?"
"Nope and nope, you dork." Zack slid one arm under him, pulling him against his chest.
Trev snuggled into the embrace, resting his head on Zack's shoulder. "Lights?"
"Nope. I'm not a Christmas tree."
"I meant…"
"I know." Zack reached over, touching the remote that turned them off. The only light now came from the windows, accentuating the sharp planes of Trev's face. Zack traced a finger over one cheekbone then along Trev's jaw.
"Keep that up and—" Trev said.
"You'll fall asleep?" Zack kissed Trev's temple.
"Not even. And is that the best you can do?"
"Actually…no." Zack kissed him softly. "Good night. Sleep well."
Trev returned it, for a moment deepening it before pulling away. "I'd better"—he yawned—"behave. Hadn't I?"
"Tonight? Yeah." Zack kissed him again, but quickly, saying with a grin, "Another preview of coming attractions."
"I always liked that part of going…"
Zack smiled when he realized Trev was asleep. "Yeah, the previews are fun, but the main attraction is better." Now if I can only keep my promise not to do anything more until Quint's finally stopped Alberts and his gang. And why do I think we should wait?
He knew the answer. He had to be certain that Trev's wanting them to be together was based on more than his need of a protector. If he really sees me as Galahad, that's not good. I don't want to be his knight in shining armor. I just want to be the man he cares about as much as I'm beginning to care about him.
*****
Trev opened his eyes Sunday morning to bright sunlight, an empty bed, and a hard-on. The last could be dealt with in the shower. But I wish Zack was here to help take care of the problem. At least he could have awakened me to say good morning and goodbye before he headed to work. Trev was pretty certain he knew why Zack hadn't. Five in the morning was way too early, unless you had to be up and moving and Trev didn't. He had nothing planned for the day, other than maybe going to his studio.
He rolled out of bed, and after a long hot shower where he took care of the most pressing problem, he got dressed and wandered into the kitchen, wondering if Zack would mind him fixing something to eat. A note on the counter caught his eye and when he read it, he chuckled. Zack had said, in no uncertain terms, that Trev was to have eggs, bacon, and toast, as well as a big glass of juice. He signed off with, Doctor's orders.
"Yeah, yeah, doc," Trev murmured. He passed on the bacon, but made scrambled eggs, chopping up a tomato he found to go in them. He topped the meal off with a cup of coffee, since Zack had a pod brewing system.
Then he went in search of tools to hang The Peacock mobile. He hoped Zack really did want it in front of the windows, as Trev had suggested, because that's where it was going. When he finished, he stepped back to look at the result then nodded. It worked with the rest of the room and didn't look at all out of place. Satisfied, he returned the tools to where he'd found them.
With nothing left to keep him in the condo and knowing it would be another twelve hours or more before Zack got off work, Trev headed home to change clothes then went on to his studio. He had an idea for a new piece, and he wanted to at least get a start on it, once he'd done the initial sketches.
He became so involved in what he was creating that he lost all track of time. So when his cell rang, he was shocked to discover it was almost seven thirty in the evening. Seeing Zack's name come up on the ID, he answered, saying, "Are you at home?"
"N
ope. And chances are it's going to be a long time until I get there. There was a bad bus versus semi accident on I-70 and they're still bringing in victims. I took a minute to call so you wouldn't be worried."
"Damn. Well at least they have the best doctor in the city helping them."
Zack snorted. "Prejudiced much?"
"You bet I am. Okay, I know you need to go. I guess…call me again if it isn't too late? Otherwise, sometime tomorrow if you can. I work from eight to four."
"I will. And remember to take…"
"My pills? The bottles are empty. And no, I didn't toss the pills down the toilet."
Chuckling, Zack said, "I know. I was going to say, take an umbrella. It's raining out, and they say it could last through tomorrow."
"It is?"
"Yes, dork, it is. Okay, I have to go."
"Take care of yourself and grab some sleep if you can."
"I will. You too."
"Planning on it," Trev replied before Zack broke the connection. After putting everything away and cleaning up, Trev left the studio. The rain seemed to be letting up, thankfully. He made a dash to the bus shelter and half an hour later—wet, but not soaking—he was back in his apartment.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Ready?" Quint asked, three days after the meeting at Trev's apartment. He checked one more time to make certain the receiver was working.
"Yep," Lou replied, fingering the buckle on his belt. "You do know this is only the first step. Carter isn't going to drag me off to his office and offer me a painting in exchange for my throwing a few cases or a truckload of counterfeit Oxy or Xanax his way."
"No shit. I'll be with you every step of the way today."
"And leave me on my own after that?"
"If he takes the bait. You know once he does, they'll be scanning you for bugs."
"Me and the product."
"Okay, we're here," Quint said, as he brought the cab to a stop outside Ultra Ideas, Carter's ad agency on South Broadway. "Be careful"
"Always am, but right now there's nothing I need to be careful about. I'm just another potential new client."
It Takes An Artist Page 10
