Gold Digger

by Aleksandr Voinov

  “Okay. I’m up for the sex. But before that?”

  Henri briefly pulled his lower lip between his teeth. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Nikolai.”

  “Um. Likewise.” He glanced around, wondered if a hotel bar with business types and at least one editor was quite the right place for this. But he didn’t care if that outed him. Likely it wouldn’t be news that Mining & Exploration Week would cover.

  “Okay.” Henri looked like he was bracing himself. “How serious are we?”

  “You mean, I don’t know, relationship?”

  Henri nodded.

  “There’s the company and the corporate politics and—”

  “Ignore those just for a moment. If LBM and Cybele both didn’t exist, where would that put us?”

  Totally unencumbered by everything? Nikolai forced himself not to look toward where Ruslan sat. Lucky he couldn’t watch them from there. Ruslan might feel inclined to come drag him out if he got the impression Henri was pressuring him. “At the start, I think. Yeah. I’d . . . say we’re serious. We could be.”

  Henri looked up with hope and tenderness, and Nikolai felt his heart clench.

  “I might need some time to get my head around it and my life . . . those are some heavy decisions, but we could give it a go.”

  Henri nodded. “Okay. Because, Nikolai, no other guy has gotten so deep under my skin. I really, really want to make this work, and I won’t let LBM or Cybele stand between us.”

  “Okay.” Mind awhirl, Nikolai couldn’t help but feel that all this was way too late and couldn’t make any difference at all. Not at this point. “So what are you planning?”

  “Trust me, okay? I’ll have to play this one by ear.”

  Nikolai chuckled. “You’ve already made some kind of decision. What’s it about?”

  “Actually four or five decisions.” He left Nikolai standing and headed back to Ruslan. Nikolai didn’t want to snatch him back, because that would raise way too many eyebrows. Rough-looking guy in a suit manhandling refined businessman—not news he needed. He’d look too much like an aggressive bodyguard. So he followed, dread collecting like dark, cold liquid in the pit of his stomach.

  “Mr. Polunin, may I sit?”

  Ruslan waved, and Henri settled down. “You’re probably aware that my uncle has been buying Cybele stock like it’s going out of fashion.”

  Ruslan nodded. “So what is your game, exactly, Mr. LeBeau?”

  “Well, it so happens that my uncle is in London. We’re having a meeting with our brokers, Smythe, Friedman & Hewitt, tomorrow at ten to discuss the public tender.”

  Ruslan’s face stayed immobile, but he nodded. “At which point we’ll issue a statement that the offer isn’t welcome and we’re asking our stakeholders to keep hold of their stock.”

  “In the absence of a white knight, you won’t be able to refuse us that dance for long, Mr. Polunin.” Henri shook his head. “You’re not the first and you won’t be the last by a long shot. If it’s any consolation, my uncle will see you off with a big check.”

  Ruslan seemed to consider this for a while, and Nikolai was suddenly aware he was holding his breath. Seeing his best friend and his lover go toe-to-toe like this was an experience he could have done without.

  “We’re not going to sell,” Nikolai said when the silence dragged on.

  Ruslan cast him a gaze that could have cautioned him to stay quiet, but certainly meant I have this. “You could talk to your uncle and tell him we’ll be ready to attend the meeting and discuss the conditions of the takeover.”

  Henri lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “You’re folding?”

  Ruslan lifted his shoulders briefly. “He should be aware that the Attis boys are likely to leave with me if it comes to that.”

  “Attis boys?”

  “Mythological reference we use as shorthand for the core personnel. Nikolai’s one of them. So’s Tamás.”

  Henri nodded. “He might try for golden handcuffs there.”

  “He can try,” Ruslan said mildly. “Well, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to prepare for the meeting tomorrow. Calculate some numbers and make some phone calls.”

  “Of course, sir.” Henri stood and offered his hand. For a moment it looked as if Ruslan was going to ignore it, but then he, too, stood and shook Henri’s hand. “Let us know by nine tomorrow if the meeting will happen and the broker’s address. We will be there.”

  Henri smiled. “Good luck, Mr. Polunin.”

  Ruslan nodded and sat down. “I prefer science over luck, but everything that has to do with people is certainly influenced by luck.” He glanced at Nikolai, and Nikolai assumed this was one of his subtle compliments.

  “I’ll see you out,” Nikolai said to Henri and led him out of the bar and through the yellow-lit lobby.

  Outside, between all the high old houses with their white façades and a little away from a small group of smokers, he reached for Henri’s shoulder.

  “So what’s going to happen?”

  “I’d say your man Ruslan is breaking out the chess set. He has something up his sleeve.”

  “That’s poker, not chess.” Nikolai shook his head. “Damn. Our white knight didn’t come through.”

  “Yeah, I read the papers. Listen, my uncle’s going to take Cybele, whatever the cost. He’s dead set on it, and I did my best to tell him that this might end up far more expensive than the company’s worth. Let’s face it, Armenia is never going to turn into a major gold player. We have much bigger fish out there in the ocean, but tell that to a hunter like my uncle. Maybe Polunin will manage to impress him tomorrow, I don’t know. Worse comes to worst, I could be the lesser evil as Cybele’s CEO. That way, my uncle gets what he wants and I could just front the operation and nothing else changes.”

  “It’s not about appearances. I don’t care what your uncle thinks. He can’t have the company.”

  “Understood.” Henri looked back to the hotel. “I have to play messenger, or I’d stay around. We have some stuff to talk about, don’t we?”

  “Yeah.” Nikolai blew out a breath. “He’s right. Not one of us is going to stick around. We’re all loyal to Ruslan. We’ll cash out and move on. No more Cybele. You’ll end up with a few dozen people processing drill cores in backwater Armenia. All the passion, the ideas, the vision . . . all that’s Ruslan and us. Without us, Cybele’s dead.”

  “I’m sorry.” Henri touched him on the arm. “I’ll try to tell him that, but I doubt it’s something he hasn’t considered.”

  “Damn.” Nikolai watched a car driving past, a cab driver looking for an address, moving slowly. “And what about us?”

  “Can I come by later tonight and we’ll talk about this?”

  “Sure. I’ll leave you a key card at reception.”

  “Great. I might be able to get back by nine-ish.”

  Nikolai grinned. “Bring condoms and lube.”

  Ruslan was still sitting in the bar, crunching numbers on a notepad. He carried a great deal of numbers in his head, and Nikolai, having seen him sketch out Cybele’s business plan on a napkin, never failed to be impressed. He sat down opposite and, when Ruslan didn’t acknowledge him, waved at the waiter to bring them the same as they’d had before.

  “So why is this personal, meeting Henri LeBeau?” Ruslan asked.

  “I. Uh.” Nikolai gratefully accepted his tonic water and watched the waiter put Ruslan’s orange juice on a beer mat. Ruslan’s brain ran on orange juice—every Attis boy knew that.

  “It’s not that we made a deal or even shared information. That is, I didn’t share anything with him, but Aureus was his idea. So he, uh, shared information with me. But it’s not . . . it’s not about business.”

  Ruslan took a sip from the yellow stuff, no doubt now supercharging his synapses. “I appreciate that you’re using the scientific method on me, excluding first what it’s not, but I’d assume you could just tell me what it is rather than make an effort to hide.”

  Oka
y, those were some clear words of disapproval. “Right. Henri LeBeau’s gay. It’s . . . personal.”

  Damn, just tell him. Don’t push Henri out onto the frontline. Just tell him.

  Ruslan’s face got that speculative cast, and Nikolai saw the OJ-slicked penny drop. He didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to confirm it, because he had no clue what Ruslan thought about homosexuality. Mining and exploration was still a macho world, and frontier mining more so than other parts of the industry. But there was also his father, one of the most macho guys around, and Vadim had married a fellow soldier. Nikolai remembered Szandor’s quiet, upright dignity, his kindness, his smile, his composed grace that could turn deadly in a moment. If they’d managed to stand by who and what they were, so could he, even if that meant losing Ruslan and the others.

  “I’m bisexual. Henri’s my lover. It just happened and the timing was awful, but he asked me five minutes ago if I’m ready to make a commitment, and I think I am, so . . . holy shit.” He really wanted something stronger than tonic water now. “I’m sorry, I should have told you earlier. It took me a while to work it out for myself.”

  Ruslan looked down at his numbers, and then back at Nikolai. “Thank you for your trust, Kolya. I thought you were carrying something around with you when you came back from New Zealand. Feel better now?”

  Nikolai gave a choked laugh. “I guess. Wow. This was hard.”

  Ruslan smiled at him and then gestured toward the exit. “With Henri, that could work out for you, you know. His uncle takes the company. Puts Henri in place. You could stay on. The new CEO will need somebody who knows the company from the bottom up.”

  “I’d feel like a traitor. I’m not staying when you’re leaving. Besides, his uncle hates me now. I . . . don’t know. They can’t make me choose between my friends and my lover.” And that was the real problem. If he hadn’t pissed off the elder LeBeau so much, this could have worked out.

  “Well. You can relax now. I’ll handle the rest. I just have to make a few calls this evening and first thing tomorrow. You go and catch some sleep.”

  “I have some emails I need to deal with.”

  “That’s fine.” Ruslan smiled. “I’m all set up here.”

  Nikolai stood, feeling a lot less uneasy now. Ruslan seemed to have taken it all in good spirits, or his poker face was even better than normal. “I should have told you.”

  “I’m not going to waste a good man because of his nature, Kolya.”

  “Thanks. That . . . that does mean a lot to me.”

  Ruslan just nodded as if that were really a non-issue for him. Business as usual. He focused on his numbers and maybe one last-ditch effort to save his company. Nikolai left him in peace and went to the hotel gym to work the nervous tension out of his muscles, then ordered some snacks up to his room. He switched on his laptop and answered emails.

  There was one from Lizabeta.

  Dear Nikolai,

  Thank you for your email. I had to think about it for a little while. And with the move and everything else, time got away from me. I know we didn’t get to spend much time or get to know each other very well, but I appreciate that you want to stay in touch with Szandor. I think it would be good for him to know you, so when he grows up, he won’t think of you as a stranger. I know you travel a lot, and I’m just settling again in Kraków, but if you have time, you’re welcome to meet Szandor and take him to the park. Just let us know a little in advance. I hope you are well and to talk to you soon.

  Lizabeta

  Nikolai smiled and dashed off a quick reply with his phone number and company address. He’d go next month. Kraków was supposed to be a nice city, and it would give her time to unpack boxes. This was a damn good start, though a bit ironic that his family life was working out while his professional life was going to hell.

  Somebody knocked on the door, and then the lock opened. He turned around and saw Henri step in. Damn, already a quarter to nine.

  “I just told Ruslan down at the bar that my uncle’s okay with the meeting tomorrow,” Henri said and closed the door. “He’s still working.”

  “If he forgets time and place, and he sometimes does, he’ll work down there all night.”

  “Then we’ll pick him up tomorrow just before we get the taxi.” Henri looked around the room, one of the smaller ones on offer, and sat down on the bed. He set his weekend bag down next to him. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

  Nikolai grinned. “Well, I outed myself to my boss. He’s taking it well.”

  “How’s it feel?”

  “I’m exhausted.”

  “It’s a big step, Nikolai. Never underestimate that. You’ll run into gay guys who’ll tell you you’re not actually bisexual, just scared to come off the fence, and a whole lot of people who’ll tell you bi guys don’t exist and you have it all wrong.” He shrugged. “Though I personally don’t care how you define yourself.”

  “Oh, I’m the son of a gay guy. I know these categories aren’t worth shit.” He turned to face Henri fully, studied him, his eyes, face, hands, the dark hair, the way he sat there in his suit and tie, looking collected and happy. That’s because of me, he thought, and something in his chest pinged with a painful tenderness. He couldn’t for the life of him decide when it all had happened, or even when he’d fully accepted it. Nothing else had worked out, but this here, this was real and he enjoyed it and he cared about Henri. Cared enough to go through with it. He stood and sat down next him, then took his head in his hands and tilted it to kiss him.

  Henri smiled at him and ran his fingers through his hair.

  That gentleness was like something had opened up a door—no, blown it off its hinges, and he savored that kiss. Tomorrow could wait. Defining all this could wait. Even working out how and where and off what to live could wait. Tonight, he’d learn what he could about that tenderness in him and between them.

  He swiped Henri’s jacket and bag onto the floor and pushed him down on the bed to open the vest of his suit between kisses, then pulled that tie loose and opened a couple buttons of that fine, soft shirt.

  Henri kicked off his shoes and moved up farther toward the head of the bed. “You’re taking your time.” He ran a hand down his chest and cupped himself. “Bored of the wild sex already?”

  Nikolai shook his head. “We’ll get there.” He unbuttoned Henri’s shirt and slid a hand beneath the undershirt. “I just realized we’ve never really done this slow.”

  Henri chuckled and opened his cufflinks. “I’m okay with hard and fast.”

  “Yeah, well. That’s for broom closets and the photocopier room. At some point. If there’s still an office to fuck in. But we’re in a five-star hotel and I’m going to treat you like a five-star date.”

  Henri shut up—thank God—and let him proceed at his own pace, which in this case was slow. And just to torture him, he didn’t take Henri’s trousers off for a fair while, first touching and caressing his chest and shoulders and belly and neck and face, interrupted by kisses somewhere between curious and gentle. Henri gave him his trust and his desire, and Nikolai figured the very least he could do was take all of it rather than just his ass and dick.

  They held each other, touching and sliding and groping, but Nikolai slowed them down every time Henri pushed for more, and only when he was satisfied that he had a good idea of Henri’s overall topography did he open the man’s belt and buttons and slide his hand in.

  Henri arched and dug his fingers into his shoulders. “Shit, finally.”

  Nikolai stroked him, delighted and turned on at how Henri moved his hips and kept pushing and sliding against him. “There’s a great deal you’ll have to show me.”

  “Like? Shit, Nikolai. This is not the best time.”

  Nikolai slid down deeper to squeeze his balls and hold them tight. “What’s the plan?”

  “Apart from fucking?”

  “Apart from that. What does this look like in your head?”

  Henri grimaced. “I’m a closeted romantic
. I’d break out some gold rings fairly soon. I kept a bar of my Malawi gold for that purpose.”

  “You’d marry me?” God, Vadim would love that. Of course, there was the rest of the family, and the accompanying potential for disaster. Though they’d mostly behaved when Vadim had married his man. “Okay.”

  “And I’m monogamous. My age, I’ve fucked around so much . . .” Henri pulled at Nikolai’s trousers. “That means I’ve tried out enough to know what I want. I’d try keeping you for myself.”

  Right now, the idea of sharing Henri with anybody was a nasty twist deep in his guts. “Works for me. I’m jealous.”

  “Good. So am I. Madly.” Henri laughed breathlessly at him. “Big weakness. I’m as single-minded about you as my uncle is about Cybele. I’m head over heels, Nikolai, and not just because you’re holding my balls in your hand and I’m aching to feel you as soon as I can.”

  Nikolai bent down to kiss him. “Where are we going to live?”

  Henri gave him an Are you kidding look, but possibly found another bit of patience. “I know one thing: I’m not going to wait in Toronto for you to come on shore leave. I’ve had that long-distance shit and I don’t want it anymore.”

  “You’d live with me in a container office in backwater Armenia?”

  “Nikolai.” Henri grabbed hold of his neck. “Whatever it takes. I’m not going to let you go.”

  “No roads in Armenia for that car.”

  “Then I’ll get a Jeep.” Henri’s eyes were dead serious, and Nikolai felt almost sorry for teasing him, but he had to know.

  “Well, you could drive mine, I guess.” He kissed Henri again. “There’ll be a way.”

  He could always resign from Cybele, cash out and live as a kept man in Toronto. Take up fencing again. Do something different with his time. Henri actually had a career, had that penthouse and that car and a comfortable life.

  He’d have to do the actual numbers and see what LBM’s offer would end up being for the shares, but it was entirely possible he could live a few—more than a few—years off that alone. It didn’t seem as important anymore as it had been before he’d met Henri. He’d even have a place to hang Szandor’s sword. A base. A permanent place that was actually waiting for him. The only thing he had to do was grab it with both hands and keep it.