Sense of Place

by N. R. Walker

  “You quit?”

  “Kind of. I was pushed,” I said, taking another sip of wine. “I told them to forward my termination papers to my lawyers. Peter Sleiman didn’t look too pleased with Robert. I’m guessing we haven’t heard the last of it.”

  “Tom,” Cooper whispered. He shook his head, unsure of what else to say. “I can’t believe it.”

  “You know what?” I asked rhetorically. “This isn’t what I had planned. At all. But I think this could be the best thing to happen to me…” Then I corrected, “Well, the second best thing to happen to me.” I took his hand. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

  Cooper ignored what I said. “Tom…” He shook his head. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe it.”

  Giving him a moment to get his head around it, I asked him if he wanted some wine. He shook his head. Instead he asked, “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “It only happened late this afternoon,” I said. “Jennifer and I left and thought we could do with a drink. Here we are! I knew you wouldn’t be far away, and I didn’t want you to worry.”

  He rubbed his temples and forehead. “Was it because of me? Really? Because I…”

  “No,” I interrupted him. “No. It had nothing to do with you, Cooper, and everything to do with me. Not you, so don’t even think that.”

  He shook his head again and exhaled through puffed cheeks. “And you two are celebrating? Or commiserating?”

  “Celebrating,” Jennifer and I answered at the same time, which made Jennifer start to laugh again.

  “I told Tom last week I didn’t want to work for anyone else at that firm,” Jennifer explained. “I’m near retiring age anyway, but Tom said he’d need me if he’s going to go out on his own.”

  Cooper’s eyes shot to mine. “On your own?”

  “Yes,” I said, nodding. “I’m going to do my own thing. Someone taught me to say ‘fuck it’ every now and then, and do what’s in my heart.”

  Cooper’s eyes then darted to Jennifer. “I apologise for the language, Jennifer.” Then he swatted my arm. “Don’t swear in front of a lady.”

  Jennifer roared laughing. “Oh, Cooper, you’re a sweetheart. Thank you, but I must be going home. I’ve had far too much to drink to keep up appearances and will bid both you lovely gentlemen goodnight.”

  “I’ll walk you down and see you into a cab,” Cooper said, not taking no for answer.

  I kissed Jennifer on the cheek, told her goodnight, and Cooper returned a few minutes later, and we played a game of three hundred questions. He was shocked, but after he got over that initial reaction, he could see my point of view.

  Yes, it was scary, and daunting and exciting and new.

  I needed the challenge, I said. “I’ve seen what you do, all the new concepts and principles and I want to be able to have the freedom to do that too.”

  And just like that, he understood.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked.

  “Have you?”

  “No,” he answered. “What do you feel like?”

  I was going to answer something sex-related, but feeling the wine buzz in my system, I said, “Pizza,” instead.

  * * * *

  The next day, just as Cooper was about to leave, the intercom buzzed. “Sorry to bother you, Mr Elkin. Jennifer Huddleston is here to see you.”

  I slowly walked over to the intercom and pressed the button. “Does she have coffee?”

  “Yes, sir, she does.”

  “Then please, let her up.”

  Cooper laughed. “Bit hungover, are you?”

  “How much wine did I drink last night?”

  “About a bottle too much.”

  “Do you have to talk so loud?” I asked. “Because honestly, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  Cooper laughed again, just as there was a knock on the door. He let Jennifer in, who bought with her a tray of coffees. She handed one to Cooper, which he took gratefully. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here,” she said.

  “Just about to leave,” he said. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Oh, I’m fine,” she answered.

  She looked fine. I, on the other hand, felt like crap. “Could you two keep it down a bit, thanks,” I mumbled from the kitchen.

  I was trying to fill the coffee machine when Jennifer handed me a coffee. “I’m feeling every ounce of the wine we drank last night.”

  “I made him get up and shower, at least,” Cooper gloated. Then he kissed my cheek. “You two seriously aren’t going in to Brackett and Golding today?”

  I shook my head, and sipped my life-saving coffee. “No.”

  “But we have much to do,” Jennifer said. As she rattled off a list of things to do to a very amused Cooper, I sank back onto the sofa with my coffee and picked up my notepad.

  “Can you two do all that important talking a little quieter?” I mumbled. “My head hurts.”

  Cooper laughed, and walked over to kiss the top of my head. He wished Jennifer the best of luck, and with a grin, left for work.

  “Tom,” Jennifer called me by my first name, and sat down across from me. “Hungover or not, I think we need—”

  I interrupted her by handing her my notepad. “Business plan—financials, projections, goals and mission statement,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee. “Hungover, yes, but I’m still me.”

  Jennifer grinned. “Okay, so where do we start?”

  Chapter Eleven

  As I drove out of the city, I thought about the last month. It had been interesting, that was for sure. It had been four weeks since I’d left Brackett and Golding. Four weeks of getting my own business started. It was only early days, but things were going well.

  Peter Sleiman had called to tell me Robert had been fired. Jennifer’s claims of numerous affairs with staff had proved true, and Peter said they really didn’t like the way he’d tried to defame me. Robert had admitted to ‘not appreciating working with a homosexual’ and finding my relationship with Cooper a ‘bad reflection of what Brackett and Golding stood for’.

  They’d asked me to come back to work for them, and I, of course, had said no.

  I loved working for myself. Along with the stress of starting over, fear of failure, was a freedom. A freedom of time, yes, but a freedom of expression. I’d been studying up on ecologically sustainable development, and had a fantastic teacher in Cooper.

  Cooper had been amazing. He’d work all day at Arlington, then come home and want to know everything I’d done. I only had two contracts in the first four weeks—though they were pretty big jobs. But he was fascinated with the inception of my business, getting more excited with each step I took.

  He was almost as excited as me.

  I was still working from home. I’d told Jennifer we’d look for an office soon, but while I started out, working from the apartment was logical, practical and economical.

  I insisted Jennifer start with six-hour days, for the same pay of course. The truth was, I couldn’t have done it without her. She was more than a personal assistant. She was like some organizational guru who held it all together for me.

  She argued about the hours, of course, but I explained that this was about reducing stress and getting back to basics. Not like starting over, but more like regrouping and doing what felt right, not what was expected. So if she wanted to take some hours to see her grandkids at school, then she absolutely should.

  When I put it like that, she didn’t argue. She was amazing, and had helped me more than she could possibly know.

  But it was Cooper…

  In less than twelve months, he’d changed my life. He’d changed the way I thought, the way I saw the world.

  He’d changed me.

  I got out of my car, took a single key from my pocket and opened the door. It was a small, cottage-style bungalow not too far from the Casa in the Hamptons. It wasn’t on the beach, though, it was on a nature reserve.

  It was a disaster.

  Hal
f-shelled, walls missing, drywall sheeting strewn across the floor, covered in dust, and damp. The last owner had run out of money, and it was in dire need of a very good architect with a very keen eye.

  That was where I came in.

  It was a project. Just not one I alone was contracted for.

  “Hello?” I heard a familiar voice call out. “Tom, is that you?”

  Grinning, I made my way to the front door. Cooper was standing there, looking handsome as ever, but extremely confused.

  “What’s going on?” he asked. “Louisa told me I had an appointment booked for a new contract. Said I was to meet the guy on site, but when I got here, your car was out front…” His words trailed off. I thought the penny had just dropped. “Tom, what are you doing?”

  “I wanted you to see this place,” I said. “I spoke to Louisa, and told her I wanted the very best architect she had.”

  Cooper looked around the construction site I was standing in. He was still in the doorway. “Um…”

  “Come in, I want to show you around.”

  He stepped inside. “Tom, what is this place?”

  “A dump at the moment,” I said honestly. “But I was thinking a collab between Arlington, meaning you, and Thomas Elkin Architecture, meaning me.”

  “A collaboration?” he said, still looking around, taking in the ceiling and windows. “Between you and me?”

  I nodded. “Yes. I thought it was something I would do on my own, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted your input.”

  “Tom…who owns this?”

  I smiled. “A woman who ran out of money.”

  “Then what are you doing here?” he asked. “If she’s not remodelling it…”

  “I want to buy it,” I said. “But I wanted your opinion.”

  Cooper’s mouth fell open. “Buy it?”

  I nodded. “Do you remember when we were at the Casa, and you said that house wasn’t the Tom you knew? It was too big, too cold and distant?”

  He nodded warily. “Yeah?”

  “I want this to be the Tom you know.”

  He blinked, twice. “You want me to design it? What for? Are you selling the apartment? Are you moving? What are you doing?”

  “Come through here,” I said, and he followed me into one of the rooms. There was a mantel amongst the mess, and on top of it, a rolled-up blueprint. “I want this to be ours. We’ll still have the apartment, because that’s where we live. But this place…well, this place will just be ours. Where we come to get away, to spend time alone, for weekends.”

  I took a nervous breath and handed him the tightly rolled blueprint plan.

  And waited.

  Cooper slid the metal band from the plans, and unrolled them. He looked over the plans, which were basically blank. I saw the confusion on his face, then he realised he was still holding the metal band in his hand.

  He looked at it.

  Then at me, then back to the silver ring in the palm of his hand.

  I saw the rapid rise and fall of his chest. I swear I could hear his mind racing, and when he looked up at me, I saw it in his eyes.

  He knew what it was. He swallowed thickly. “Tom?”

  I smiled. “You know what a sense of place is?”

  Cooper nodded. “It’s when the place you’re in feels like home. Where you’re at peace.”

  I nodded. “That’s exactly right.”

  Cooper looked around. “This place?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  His voice kind of squeaked. “Me?”

  I nodded and grinned. “You’re my sense of place, Cooper.”

  He looked back at the ring he was still holding.

  “Marry me,” I said. “Build me a house that’s made of us, that reminds you of who we are.”

  Cooper bit his lip, and his eyes welled with tears. Then he nodded.

  “Yes?”

  He nodded again. “Yes.”

  “Did I ask right this time?”

  He nodded, then the first of his tears fell. “Yes.”

  I wrapped my arms around him and he held onto me so tight and buried his face into my neck. “Did you want to see the rest of the house?”

  He nodded, but didn’t move to let me go. Eventually he pulled back, and handed me the ring. Before I could ask, he said, “You have to put it on my finger. You need to do it properly.”

  I took the silver ring, then his left hand and slid the ring over his finger. He took my face in his hands and kissed me tenderly. “I’m so in love with you,” he whispered. Then he took my hand. “Come on, show me the rest of the house.”

  He led me through each room—granted, there weren’t many of them—and I could see his excitement grow with each new discovery. I could also tell he was mapping out and planning, seeing visions in his head.

  “How am I supposed to go back to work now?” he asked, as I locked the front door behind us. “I’m too excited!”

  “You have a lot to plan,” I said, kissing him at the Arlington company car. “You need to tell Louisa you’ll be doing your first joint account.”

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I need to drop off the key back to the real estate agent, and sign some papers. I’ll need to call my lawyer, and my accountant,” I said. I was playing with his left hand, turning the ring around his finger. “I’ll have some papers for you to sign as well.”

  “Pre-nup?” he asked. “I have no problem with that.”

  I laughed. “No, silly. Papers to sign for the purchase of this place. It will be in both our names.”

  “Tom, I… I can’t afford it—”

  I kissed him quiet. “I don’t care. This place is ours.” Then I told him, “And you’ll need to think of a name. It doesn’t have one currently. The old owners never called it anything.”

  Cooper exhaled through puffed cheeks and took another deep breath. He looked at the ring on his finger and touched it, then he looked back to me. There was a humbled softness in his eyes. “How did I ever get so lucky?”

  I kissed him again. “I often ask myself the same question.” He held onto me, and kissed me deeply, and when he pulled his mouth from mine, he left his forehead pressed to mine. “Drive safely,” I said. “I’ll see you at home tonight.”

  * * * *

  I’d only been home for a short while, sitting on the sofa, looking through some legal papers when I heard the familiar sound of Cooper’s keys in the door.

  He came through the door like there was a demon behind him, and never took his eyes off me.

  “You’re home early,” I said.

  “I couldn’t wait,” he said. “I couldn’t concentrate and I was bouncing in my seat apparently. Louisa told me to go home.”

  Without another word, he took the papers from my hand and put them on the coffee table, took my hand and led me to our bedroom.

  “Uh, Cooper,” I said with a laugh.

  He didn’t answer me until we were next to the bed, when he turned to face me. There was a look of love, a little fear and a lot of determination on his face. “I said I couldn’t wait,” he whispered.

  “Cooper, what is it?”

  “I want you,” he said softly. “I want you to have me…bare.”

  My eyes widened. “Cooper…”

  “You don’t have to if you’re not ready,” he said quickly. “I probably should have asked first. But I have this feeling, this need, that if you don’t do it, I think I’ll die.”

  I would have laughed if he wasn’t so serious. I put my hands to his face. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ve never been better,” he replied. “Just today has been so much emotion, and I can’t seem to contain it. I can’t… I’m not making much sense.”

  I kissed him then, softly, deeply, and started to undress him. I knew exactly what he meant. “You’re making perfect sense.”

  There was a desperation in his touch, in his kiss, and when we were both naked on the bed, I took the lube, but left the foil wrappers
in the bedside table. “Are you sure?” I asked one final time.

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  I knelt between his spread thighs, prepping him while I kissed over his chest, his jaw, his neck. When he was ready for me, I pressed the head of my cock against his hole, and he held my face as I pushed inside him.

  “Oh my God,” I mumbled. It felt so good, so real. I slowly slid all the way inside him, giving us both time to adjust. When he lifted his hips and thrust against me, I cried out, “Slow. Please, baby, slow.”

  His eyes were wide and he brought my face to his, kissing me passionately. I tried to rein in my body’s desire to fuck hard, but it was getting too much.

  I leant back, resting my weight on one hand, and took his cock in my other hand. He batted my hand away and started to pull himself, while I thrust slowly into him. “I need you to come first,” I said with a groan. “Please, come for me.”

  A few more strokes of his hand and his body went rigid beneath me, his head pushed back and he groaned as stripes of cum lined his stomach. I couldn’t wait any longer. I thrust into him, deep and hard, making his eyes pop open, and he cried out in pleasure as my cock swelled and emptied inside him. Like my body splintered into a thousand pieces, and he held me together while I surged inside him.

  “Oh, Tom,” he murmured, over and over. I buried my face into his neck, and he held me so tight. When I finally moved to pull out of him, he stopped me. “Stay inside me,” he whispered and kissed my neck, my shoulder. “I never want you to leave.”

  I could barely form a coherent thought, but I managed to tell him I never would.

  Epilogue

  Two years later

  I turned into the drive, and like every time I saw it, I smiled when I saw the name on the gate. ‘Winston’ was the name Cooper had given this place. He’d wanted to name it after me, but I’d told him it should reflect him, too. So then he’d wanted the name of the cottage to somehow reflect some translation of ‘sense of place’ and I’d told him maybe he was over-thinking it.

  Then he’d thrown his arms up and yelled at me. “At this fucking rate, I may as well call it Gary, or Ian, or fucking Winston!”