by J. P. James
16
Neil
“And let Blackburn know that a forty percent return isn’t good enough,” I tell the manager hovering in the doorway of my office.
She nods once, her sharp-cut bangs quivering precisely above her eyes. “That’s what I told him, so he’s working out some better numbers for us now.”
“Good. Let me know what he comes back with.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Then she gives another quick nod before making herself scarce, firmly shutting the door behind her.
Although I would’ve loved to stay home with Milo today, I just don’t have the time. Things have been hectic here. We’ve had a few deals come to a head, plus a few that needed some damage control, but overall, we’re doing well. The business is firmly in the black, as usual.
Plus, life in general has revolved around work for me for the last decade or so. But now with Milo in my life, it’s been work like crazy, then go home to love him like crazy. It’s a schedule I can definitely live with because things with Milo have been damn near perfect. Our relationship is so fantastic that it seems like a dream some days. To be honest, I’m a little surprised by the entire endeavor.
Never in my life did I ever think I’d be the type who would want to settle down with one person and become all domesticated like a proper house cat. But Milo has completely changed my mind. I want to be with him because he makes me feel whole. Everything we do, from making the bed shake to watching TV together, is special. I want this to last. I want forever with him.
Even though we’ve been together for about three months now, we’ve never really “defined the relationship.” Well, not any longer. It’s time to make sure both of us are on the same page.
A quick knock on my door brings my eyes up from the notepad, where I’ve scratched some quick numbers for my next meeting with one of my accountants.
“Come in.”
Of course, it’s my assistant, Shelly. She comes in with a smile and puts a small package on the edge of my desk. “It just arrived, Mr. Woods.”
My heart stops in my chest. I take a deep breath. “Thank you.”
Only when Shelly leaves do I open the package.
It’s a ring. For Milo.
I flick the royal blue box open. The band is platinum, wide and solid. It will look great on Milo’s finger and shouldn’t get in the way when he’s playing the piano; that way, he’ll never need to take it off.
I know the whole idea of a ring in this day and age is a bit corny, but Milo is important to me, and I really want show him that I’m serious about the attraction between us. So many couples swear that they don’t need an emblem of their love, but for me, this piece of jewelry feels right.
Plus, my plan for the ring isn’t too complicated. After the big party tonight, I’ll give it to him when we’re alone together at home. There’s a room in the house all set up for it. By the time Milo gets there, the small music room will have flowers in every corner and rose petals scattered all over the piano. The lights in the room will be dim, but I’ll still be able to see his honest reaction. After all, I want him to be happy with this ring, and to be happy with the kind of life we can have together.
Nervousness tightens my chest. Shit, it feels like prom night and the day I made my first million all rolled into one.
And I can’t wait for it all to unfold with Milo.
The phone on my desk buzzes. “Your three o’ clock is here.”
Damn, already? A glance at my watch tells me there are still a few minutes left until three. But there’s no point in keeping the man waiting. “That’s fine. Send him in.”
Miguel Salamanca walks in with his briefcase and a cordial smile. “Mr. Woods.”
We shake hands, and I lead him to the oval conference room table at the far end of my office. After exchanging a few pleasantries, the business talk begins.
He hits me with the financial news that I expect: compared to most of our competitors, we’re way ahead. But there is one company edging us out, and that’s the one owned by Victor Lancaster.
Miguel looks at me like he expects me to fly off the handle and bust his balls about money-making strategies, but I only shake my head.
“Thanks for the numbers, Miguel. I think we’re doing just fine.”
Miguel nods, looking serious as he packs up his papers and gets ready to leave. “Is there something else you’d like me to do, Mr. Woods?”
“Not a thing, Miguel. We’re right on track. Our expansion plans are for next year. I’m not about to jump the gun because Victor Lancaster has a temporary lead on us.”
Miguel nods discreetly, but I can tell he thinks something’s wrong with me. In the past, I’ve been aggressive – almost too much so. But now, I have other things on my mind. Milo. The proposal. A ring, and so much more. Let’s just say, my priorities have been set straight.
Plus, it’s too bad Victor doesn’t know just how temporary his lead is. Playing with Don Hunt’s dirty money may have him sitting pretty now, but he’s bound to get himself in trouble. If not with Don Hunt himself, then with the law. It’s only a matter of time.
I can guarantee it.
17
Milo
The classical music has come back to me so quickly that I’m heady with delight. The exacting demands, and the way the music forces me to play each note perfectly each time is remarkable. There’s no room for improvisation – only precision can meet the standard, like cut glass or diamonds under a jeweler’s lens. Chopin is one of my favorites, and I play the music in Neil’s penthouse with a joy I can’t contain.
The Nocturne trilling from the piano under my fingertips is like food to my soul, and I’m pretty sure it’ll also be on my music exam next Friday. It’s so exciting, yet terrifying too because a few weeks ago, I got accepted into a music program in the city, and I know it’s a step in the right direction. I have to keep focused, but that’s incredibly hard when I have Neil with me.
He’s amazing in every way. A meeting with one of my professors at school went okay, earlier, but with every word I spoke, I was conscious of Neil’s semen in my bottom, leaking all over my boxers. It was sloppy and slick, and I loved it so much.
But it just made me focus more. It made me stand taller in the meeting, and made me want to do well in that informal interview for a TA position because I want Neil to be proud of me. So, crazy enough, the come was like a “rah-rah-rah.” My own cheering section, except it was naughty and dirty.
The memory makes me grin. I can’t want to tell Neil—
Suddenly, the notes on the piano jangle wildly as my hands suddenly clench into fists and crash down on the keys. A wild longing takes over my body, and my heart swoons as the oxygen leaves my lungs. My entire body jerks with need.
But I know what’s happening. It’s this. Playing happy families with Neil has only made me want what comes next naturally: marriage and children. Meanwhile, we haven’t even had the “define the relationship” talk. If anything, he could think of me as nothing but a rent boy living in his house in exchange for free sexual gratification. Is that possible?
But no, I know it’s not. Neil feels something for me, even if he’s never said the words. With trembling fingers, I pick up the phone. It rings twice, and then my best friend picks up.
“Carla, I think I might be in big trouble.”
“What? I’m sure it’s not that bad.” I hear her moving around in her kitchen at home. It’s some kind of holiday, and Carla is at home by herself while the girls are at a kiddie camp for the week. Her husband is off at work although I know they have a date tonight to take advantage of their privacy while the kids are away.
Is that the kind of life I could have with Neil? Or does he see this as a day-to-day fling? My stomach clenches with anxiety.
“It might be that bad,” I tell Carla. “Can you come over?”
She pauses but then says, “Sure. Let me just finish up what I have going on here. I can be at your place in an hour.”
“
Thanks, Carla. I really appreciate it,” I murmur. It’s perfect because it’ll give me some time to talk myself down off this emotional ledge, so I’m not a complete mess when my buddy arrives. She laughs.
“What else are best friends for if not random and mysterious phone calls in the middle of the day?” is her wry remark. “I’ll see you soon, honey.”
When she arrives at the penthouse, I greet Carla at the elevator and drag her to the living room right away. She looks around in awe.
“Jeez, I knew you said you were living in a palace, Milo, but I didn’t expect this.”
I nod, looking up at the enormous chandelier dripping with crystals.
“It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?”
Carla nods, her hair bouncing. “Amazing isn’t the right word. Maybe grand, magnificent, or beyond your wildest dreams? Look around you, Milo!”
But I don’t because these are just things. What bothers me has nothing to do with the tangible, and everything to do with the intangible.
“Carla,” I begin in a hesitant voice.
But my friend’s not paying attention. She’s squinting at a painting on the wall
“Oh my god, is that a Vermeer? Seriously? Like the guy known for his technique painting light?”
I nod impatiently. “Yeah, I think it is. But Car, you have to listen to me.”
My friend finally flicks back into focus.
“Right. Vermeer. Milo. Right. I’m listening.”
I sigh.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I say in a miserable mumble.
Carla squints at me again. “I’m sorry? Honey, you’re living in a palace for free, with a wildly rich man who indulges your every whim. Didn’t you say he was going to pay your music school tuition as well? Hell, if you’re feeling guilty about that, then tell him to give the money to me. I could use it for my kid’s college savings account.”
I laugh because my friend always manages to make the situation lighthearted.
“No, I’m serious Car. I just don’t know what’s going on between me and Neil. I mean, yes, it seems like he really cares about me, but he’s never said anything. And for all I know, he could ask me to leave tomorrow.”
Carla nods, but her expression is unconcerned.
“Sweetheart, men sometimes just don’t have that many words. I wouldn’t sweat it. I mean, hell, if I weren’t married to Gary, I don’t think I’d know how he feels.”
I interrupt. “Car, you guys have been married for twelve years. I think Gary loves you.”
But my friend merely nods. “My point exactly. He doesn’t say anything, I just know because the feelings so strong that I can sense it around me at all times. Do you sense that with Neil?” she asks curiously.
I think for a moment. “Well, yes, but I mean, there are no words. That’s the problem. What if I’m feeling wrong?”
My buddy nods, looking like a wise woman for a moment.
“No, these things are usually pretty obvious, especially if you’re living together. If you feel it, you’re probably not reading it wrong. The man treats you like a cherished treasure, and he meets your every need. Have you given up your apartment yet, by the way?” she asks curiously.
I nod, gulping. “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do.”
Carla nods knowingly again. “Listen if he was okay with you doing that, then you’re probably on solid ground. But Milo ….” Her voice trails off.
“What?” I ask, as the silence grows longer. Carla merely shoots me a funny look.
“Well, I mean, I guess I don’t want to be too obvious about this, but if you need to hear the words, why don’t you ask him?”
What a funny question. The truth is, I’ve thought about that, but never been able to summon the courage.
“I don’t know what I’d say,” is my miserable mumble.
Carla laughs lightly. “Oh please, honey, you definitely do. Just say, I want the whole deal, Mr. Billionaire. A proposal, an engagement, a wedding, kids, the whole shebang. And besides, isn’t that what you want?”
“Oh my god!” I exclaim, my cheeks going red. “I couldn’t!” But my best friend knows me too well.
“Milo, you can. Also, come on, I know that’s what you want. I could tell even months ago, with how over the moon you are with this guy. You love him, Milo, so why don’t you just tell him, and see what he says in return?”
Um, because I could get my heart broken? Because I might find out that he sees me as nothing but a young man to toy with, before something shinier and newer comes along?
But I don’t say that to Carla. I merely gulp and nod.
“Yeah, maybe I will.”
She jumps up. “So go for it! Ask Mr. Magnificent what he’s thinking, and I think you’ll like the answer. Trust me, Milo. Everything here indicates that he wants a future with you, so why not just get it all into the open?”
Her words make sense, even if fear still makes my throat contract.
“Yeah, maybe I will,” I say with a forced smile. “Thanks Car.”
“You got it,” she says cheerily. “Now, give me a tour of this place so I can see if he has any Rembrandts or Van Goghs in hidden nooks and corners. Come on, boyfriend, let’s go see.”
Slowly, I get up, laughing as we walk down the corridor and to the media room. I chatter lightheartedly as Carla oohs and ahs over the expensive equipment, but inside, my mind is still whirring. Should I do what my best friend says? Should I confront Neil for some answers? I’m not sure, but all I know is that this blissful existence can’t go on forever without some kind of clarification. Because I desperately want a long-term future with Neil, but does he want the same?
18
Milo
After Carla leaves, I head to the kitchen to wash up the glasses we used for our drinks. The pep talk from my friend was much needed, and I feel a lot more relaxed and at ease.
Plus, I’m excited because I have a date tonight. Well, it’s not an actual date since I’ll be playing the piano for Neil at one of the many fancy restaurants he owns. But afterward, he promised me we’d have dinner together to canoodle and enjoy each other’s company. I should talk to him while we eat. No, maybe after dinner will be better. Or maybe after sex? Isn’t that when guys are most pliant?
Suddenly, my phone rings from my pocket. I look at it; it’s Neil calling. Immediately, my heart races.
Why would he be calling now? Shouldn’t he be on his way home? Is something wrong?
“Hey, Handsome,” he greets me when I answer. “I’m afraid I have a little bad news.”
Bad news? What? But before I can get a word out, he speaks.
“I’m unexpectedly tied up at the office with some work I didn’t foresee,” he continues. “I won’t be able to pick you up for the party, but I’m sending over one of my assistants, Janet, with a special tux for you to wear tonight.”
His voice is so low and soft that I forget about my panic; I forget about everything but how much I love him. “You didn’t have to buy me anything special,” I say softly with the phone tucked between my shoulder and my ear. Smiling, I dry the last glass and put it away in Neil’s fancy chrome dish rack.
“But you know that I love to spoil you and show you off. The outfit is just perfect for you. I think you’ll love it.”
What I love is how he always thinks about me. “Okay, as long as it makes you happy.”
“It does, and you make me happy too. Never forget that.”
“I’ll try not to,” I reply. My body turns hard with pleasure just from listening to him. With everything he does, he shows how much he adores me, but sometimes I just wish he would say it too. Three simple little words. “I love you” shouldn’t mean that much, but I can’t help but wish he’d say them aloud.
But in the meantime, I have more than I ever dreamed of, and I can’t complain. The only thing that could ruin what he and I have is my expectations. Am I crazy for wanting more? All those self-help gurus tell you to live in th
e present, but somehow, I can’t do it. I want some certainty, and the promise of a future together. My teeth sink into my lower lip. Suddenly trembling, I turn away from the view outside the kitchen window — a bright and cloudless Manhattan sky over Central Park.
Neil continues, “Janet will be there around seven, and the limo will pick you up at eight, okay?”
“Sure. That sounds fine. I’ll make sure I’m ready.” I bite my lip again. “Um...”
He must catch the note of hesitation in my voice. “Is everything okay, Handsome?” Neil asks.
My breath stumbles silently in my throat. Before Carla left, I convinced myself that I would talk to Neil about our future, but now, I just don’t know. I don’t want to face the fact that he might not want to be together. That this is nothing but a short-term fling for him.
Uneasiness trips up and down my spine. With the phone pressed to my ear, I walk through the chrome and granite room out to the living room where I’d been sitting with Carla.
The television is on mute. On the coffee table, Carla left me one of her infamous Post-it notes that she’s always scribbling to people she loves. “Be bold!” it says on the bright pink square of paper. The Post-it feels cool between my fingers, the words on it practically shouting at me.
“Honey?” he asks again.
I want to be bold and reach out for that bright future my best friend says I deserve. My mouth opens to tell the man I love about all the doubts I’ve been having. It’d be such a relief to open the dam, but instead, I stifle the urge.
“Everything is just fine,” I say instead. My fingers go slack, and the Post-it note falls and drifts to the floor. “I’ll see you at the party later on tonight.”
He hesitate for a moment.
“Baby, are you sure? It sounds like you have something on your mind.” The concern in his voice makes my stomach twist with guilt and nervousness. I drop onto the couch and tuck myself into one corner, feeling like an idiot.
