by Pat Henshaw
Felicity and I looked at each other. We were both curious and could have just asked the guy’s name. But now it was like a little contest.
“Who do you think it is?” she asked as we walked to an interrogation room. Guy followed almost on my footsteps.
I shrugged.
“I can’t think of anybody whose life I’ve ruined recently,” I murmured. “Not since my parents’ anyway.”
She put a hand on my arm.
“You didn’t ruin their lives. They did all the work themselves,” she reassured me.
I think we were both shocked when Alex was led into the room.
He started yelling at me and threatening to kill me as soon as he cleared the doorway. I was so surprised all I could do was blink at him.
Guy, on the other hand, was livid.
As they sat Alex down and secured his wrists to the table, Guy leaned into him.
“You are the scum of the earth,” Guy said as if he were God pronouncing a sentence. “Watch what comes out of your mouth, because everything you say is just digging your shithole deeper.”
Alex sputtered and glared at Guy.
“You don’t scare me, bartender. You’re just a low-life, know-nothing punk who coddles drunks.”
Before Guy could answer, I leaned toward Alex.
“What the hell, Alex? I don’t get it. Why would you destroy Penny’s?”
He sneered at me. Sneered. How had I missed that he was somebody who sneered?
“You stupid cunt. You think you’re all artsy-fartsy, but you’re fartsy boring. You’ve got all these people up in your ass thinking you’re such a great guy when we know the real truth, don’t we?”
I had no idea what he was talking about and looked blankly at Guy, who was so angry at this point, he looked like he was steaming. The anger rolled off him and filled the room.
I put my hand on his arm until Guy looked at me.
I shook my head slightly.
“Not worth it,” I said softly. “We’ve got everything we need without him.”
Guy blinked, surprise stamping itself on his face. Then he grinned.
“You’re right, babe,” he answered.
“All I want to know is why he had Penny’s trashed. I don’t get it.”
Guy nodded to me, and we both turned to look at Alex.
Alex’s grin was grotesque.
“If you’re going to dump me,” Alex growled at me, “then I get to retaliate. You’re not walking away from me, leaving me with the condo payment and all those other bills. You’re not walking away from me. I get to walk away from you. You don’t deserve anything.”
He took a deep breath. “Penny’s is stupid. It’s too stupid to exist.”
I looked at Sheriff Campbell and shrugged. I still had no concrete idea why Alex hated me so much, except for the rent money, and I finally realized I’d probably never know.
Campbell nodded to the deputies and said, “Well, I think we’re done here. You got your chance to talk to Mr. Patterson. Take him back to his cell.”
Alex was crying now and screamed they had the wrong man. As they led him out, he looked back and yelled, “I’m going to kill you!”
Guy quickly put his arm around my shoulders. But he didn’t need to comfort me. Other than being stunned by how much I’d misread Alex’s character, I was fine. I was shocked at how I’d assumed he was a good guy by taking his glib talk, assured manner, and stylish clothes as signs he was the perfect boyfriend. Even his trolling at Stonewall I’d seen as his outgoing personality and not as him being disrespectful of me. I was so thankful Guy was much more transparent and honest.
Felicity had been sitting there, staring at the table the whole time. Now she lifted her head and looked at me.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I never saw this coming. I thought he was an okay guy.”
“It’s fine, Felicity. I’m good. Really I am.” I looked up at Guy. “All along I’ve had a guardian angel.”
Guy and I smiled at each other.
“Of course,” I added, “it took him an awful long time before he stepped forward.”
I was teasing, he knew it, and Felicity laughed.
“Well, this is fun,” said Campbell, “but I’ve got work to do. Let’s be sure to get together.”
He shook my hand, Guy’s hand, and nodded to Felicity, then escorted us to the outside door.
“We’ll be in touch” were his parting words.
GUY WENT back to work, and Felicity went to the mall, where the crew was setting up the temporary Penny’s. Since the first of Fredi’s crews was working on the new Penny’s this morning, I decided to hang out there for a while, then go over to Stonewall and bug Guy.
After starting so horribly, the day was settling into the same old same old. In the middle of the afternoon, when I’d checked with everyone and was starting to get antsy, Guy walked up to me and pulled me outside to his truck.
“We’re going home,” he said. “I have to work a little tonight, about four hours, but from now until then we’ve got some time.”
He drove us to his place and had me change into jeans, boots, and a cotton sweater. He handed me my helmet and said, “We’ll just go riding around for a while, okay?”
I loved riding on a motorcycle more now than I had the first time I was on one. The purr of the engine between my legs, massaging my balls, made me feel like a rocket about to take off. Hanging on to Guy, my cheek next to his leather jacket, the heat from his torso seeping through to my hands, face, chest, and groin were sometimes enough to get me off before I knew what was happening.
I loved Guy. I’d been fragile a week ago, and in his no-nonsense way, he’d picked me up, dusted me off, and helped me to man up. He’d supported me without hounding or even asking for anything in return.
He was right. We’d known each other for the past year and knew each other well for six months. I hadn’t realized I was making a friend all those times I talked to him at the bar while Alex walked around looking for someone better. When my boyfriend was becoming a bad roommate, Guy was turning into my boyfriend. I just hadn’t realized it.
As we took a corner and I leaned with him into the turn, I saw the instinctive move as a reflection of our relationship. We moved together as one without comment or discussion. We knew ourselves and we knew each other. He was exactly the person I’d been looking for all my life. Who knew I’d find him when I thought my life had reached the bottom?
We ended up at Adam’s restaurant. They were getting ready for the evening meal and Adam was a shadowy figure in a kitchen filled with steam and sunlight.
“Stone! Jimmy! I was just thinking about you guys,” he greeted us.
“Yeah? What were you thinking?”
“I got this idea for a special meal, kind of an anniversary deal. You know, five course, special. One of a kind for one of a kind couples. Thought we’d serve it on the balcony this summer, maybe into fall if the weather holds.” He wiped his forehead with the towel slung over his shoulder.
“Anyway, I was trying to come up with a couple I could do a test run with, and I was thinking of you two.”
Guy glanced at me, and I answered Adam. “Sounds great. We’d love to.”
Without asking him, I knew Guy agreed with me.
“You just give us some dates, and we’ll make our schedules work,” he told Adam.
Adam nodded to the people in the kitchen, then got us each some coffee. He led us up some stairs, and we ended up on the balcony he was talking about.
We sat down at a table that took up most of the room in the small space and looked out over the valley. Up here there was a slightly cool breeze playing around us.
We talked and drank coffee, just like we were in a foreign film, at a street-side café in Rome or Paris, only here we were part of nature and not an urban jungle. When one of the kitchen people came up with a question for Adam, Guy and I left, melding together on the bike.
AFTER MIDNIGHT, Guy came back from the bar, and we made
love, then cuddled. Guy gave me a little squeeze.
“Are you okay, Jimmy?” he asked. “I mean about shithead and all.”
I let out a soft, quiet sigh. I loved what Guy called Alex.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I turned on my side and looked at him. “I realized this afternoon that in a way we’ve been boyfriends for quite a while now.”
Guy grunted. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“I know. But I didn’t get it. Today I did.” I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’ve been my best friend for months now, only I was so wrapped up in my misery, I didn’t notice. Today I noticed.”
“Yeah, well, you are the hottest guy I’ve ever seen come into the bar,” he said. “I couldn’t just let you sit there and suffer.”
“You didn’t. I’m so thankful.” This time I kissed him longer, hoping he’d feel how much he meant to me. “I love you. No matter what your name is.”
“This is it, you know. Your last guess. Who’s going to pay for the bike?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t know if I want a bike anymore.”
He reared back and looked at me.
“You don’t want to go riding with me?”
“Yes, of course I do. That’s the point. I want to go riding with you, behind you, holding you, rubbing my face in your back, feeling my dick hit your ass.” I stopped and sighed. “I’m not sure I want to be riding beside you is all.”
Guy laughed. “Baby, you can ride holding me anytime you want. But I really do think you should have your own bike. I think you’d like it.”
Who was I to argue? As long as we were both happy, what did it matter?
Guy didn’t return to cuddling. “So what you got as your last guess?” he asked.
I was tired of the game. It didn’t matter to me anymore. As far as I was concerned, he was Guy, my guy. He was more than enough for me with or without a first name.
“I don’t have a guess. I just know who you are to me. You’re my Mr. Perfect. You’re the best thing in my life. You’re Prince Charming.”
Guy’s eyes got big and he rolled over onto his back.
“Oh my God. You win,” he whispered. “You guessed my fucking, lame-ass name.”
“What? I did?”
“Yeah. You did. My birth name’s Prince Charming.”
I started to laugh, and after a moment, he joined me.
“How could a mother do that to a kid?” I asked, my laughter dying as I thought about it. “How could she?”
Guy shrugged. “Better than some of the jack-awful names I’ve seen carding people,” he answered. “But, babe, I never thought you’d guess it.”
“I didn’t really.” Then it hit me. “Your mother knew. Your mom knew you’d be the perfect man for someone and let you know early on what your destiny was.”
“I don’t know, Jimmy. All’s I know is I’m glad I’m your Prince Charming.”
1
I SWISH. I sway. Occasionally I lisp. Sometimes, it’s even an act. These days gay sells, and I’m not above selling my design services with a lot of swish, sway, and lisp.
Oh, I’m a twink. I freely admit it. And sometimes twink works and sometimes, well, twink just queers the sale, for this designer.
Some days I just need to forget trying to impress another potential client for a few minutes, be my introverted dreamer self, and relax. I’ve fought hard for the extrovert shell, which all my friends well know, but as I pass from my workaholic twenties into the abyss of my unknown thirties, I wonder which Fredi Zimmer is going to emerge triumphant.
Some days I can barely lift my hands for another “Oh. My. God! Look. At. You. Girl!” Some days my inner bitch claws to get out. Some days I wonder if any of us can possibly be sane enough to cross the street by ourselves.
When I’m working, my life is all about the mental game while I juggle up to five multimillion dollar projects at a time. So taking a minute to let all the balls rest is essential to my mental health.
I stretched as I got myself comfortable in one of the plush chairs in the reading area of Penny’s Too. I’d designed the remodel of this mid-1880s brick bank building into a coffee bar for my friends Jimmy and Felicity. We’d decided on a modern take on an Old West men’s club, which fit beautifully into the Old Town area of the foothills community of Stone Acres, California. I hadn’t done a half-bad job, if I do say so myself.
I sat back and took a sip of my namesake drink, Fredi’s Feast, an interesting mix of cinnamon and cardamom with a heady dollop of whipped cream. It was foamy and frothy, but lusty underneath. I was a little surprised at how my best friend, Jimmy Patterson, saw me, or at least which flavors he’d used to translate my personality into a drink. Lusty? Just the word made me tingle.
True, I’m an out-and-proud gay man, having declared myself in junior high, and my wardrobe since then has proclaimed my love of color and often hints at my undeniable sense of originality and whimsy.
Today, however, I was dressed in work clothes—a vintage 1940s three-piece teal sharkskin suit. With a fire-engine-red shirt and antique-ivory lace tie, I was looking my sartorial best.
As I sat in Jimmy’s coffee house, I let myself relax. It was about time I took some real R&R to find myself a big boy with benefits, something I hadn’t done in, well, what seemed like forever. I had the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon just to sit, sip, and imagine my dreamboat. Maybe the hunk of my imagination would walk in and romance me.
Before I got completely lost in this improbable fantasy, who should walk in but the most gorgeous hunk of man I’d seen since moving here from San Francisco? He ordered and then, wonders of wonders, sat down in the club chair next to me. My, my, the day was definitely looking up. Who’d have thought one little dream would turn real so quickly?
Sunlight streamed through the high old windows of the historic building and bathed this delightful creature in golden light. He gleamed, from his dishwater-blond hair to his handmade Lucchese boots. He was the picture of Western America: tall, lanky, huge shoulders, huge hands, droopy brown-blond mustache. And a very nice bulge where it should be.
He was my fantasy come to life. I stared and made a little wish. Why not? With the influx of gays who’d moved into the area when city prices rose through the roof, why couldn’t he be one of us?
As I studied him, the long, tall frontiersman nodded, making my cheeks heat as I shyly returned his nod. I was shocked at myself. When was the last time I’d felt shy, of all things? He was hitting buttons I didn’t even know I owned.
I mentally shook myself. I was no blushing virgin. Far from it. I hadn’t been shy since I was in middle school. I’d gone to college, gotten my degree. I was Fredi Zimmer of Fredi’s @ Home and Fredi Zimmer of Fredi’s @ Work. I’d been written up in Architectural Digest and all the best national home improvement magazines. I’d been around the block so many times my blisters had blisters.
As I reminded myself of the long road I’d traveled, my chest expanded and I regained my aplomb. Sure, I might be five foot seven in bare feet, compact body-wise, and look like I’m only a little older than sixteen. Nevertheless, I’m not somebody who was intimidated by the Call of the Wild, no matter how lovely he was.
This time I faced the lanky he-man, nodded, and gave him my smooth, professional smile. Now, comment on the weather? Penny’s Coffee Stop? Fuck it, ask him out?
“Hi there.” The stranger leaned toward me and stuck out a gigantic hand with long tapering fingers. “Max Greene. Little gal over there said you’re Fred. Right? You’re a hard man to track down.”
Oh my God. His voice washed over me like sin filled with sex. He might as well have come all over my three-piece suit. He was my Pied Piper. I’d follow him anywhere.
With a deep breath, I put my hand into the giant’s elegant paw, then nearly ruined it all by swooning. Again he surprised me. Even though my hand was engulfed in his, Max didn’t squeeze or start a power play. His was a nice, firm, comfortable handshake
between men. He was meeting me as an equal.
“Well, the name’s Fredi, actually, but you can call me Fred, honey.” I was proud my voice stayed low and confident while my insides were Jell-o shots about to ignite.
“Good to meet you.” Max released my hand. His face was a little pink. Interest or embarrassment? “I’m wonderin’ somethin’.”
“Oh?” I tried to look confident, not simpering. As usual, faced with a man like Max, Little Fredi was ready to greet him, but I pushed my libido down. Get real. Little Fredi thought every good-looking man was ready to party with him.
“Got this huntin’ fishin’ cabin. Up in the foothills. Kind of beat up, rural, you might say.” Max stopped, peering at me as if it were my turn to talk. Now his face was bordering on red.
I couldn’t think of a thing to say. Was Max inviting me to the cabin? Oh my. If so, why? I just sat there staring at him and quirked an eyebrow.
“Um, oh?” I finally managed, still staring at Max, waiting.
“Yeah, well,” Max said as if it took drawling those two words to prime the pump and get him to speak again. “Wonderin’ if you’d come up to the cabin. See what you can do. Make it better.”
Ah, the light finally went on. Damn. Oh well. The dream of him picking me up and us spending the rest of the day between the sheets in his mountain hideaway drifted away. Max was a potential client. All right. Disappointing, but okay.
I switched into business mode with a sigh. I hadn’t gone to all the trouble of getting my degree and building a business only to jump all the hot men who hired me. Not yet, anyway.
I got out my netbook and clicked to my day planner. “I’d be happy to take a peek at it. What day’s good for you?”
Max looked uneasy and his pink cheeks turned red, as if he hadn’t planned for the eventuality that I’d actually agree.
“Uh, how ’bout right now?”
Since I was free until late afternoon when one of the Stone Acres new bridezillas was getting back from San Francisco where she’d been shopping all morning, what to do?
