by Plakcy, Neil
He gave her a short bow and stepped back out of the trailer. Dolores turned to me as soon as the door was closed. “Camilo said you were just a boy. How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“You are very handsome,” she said grudgingly. “Too pretty for my taste—but see where my taste has gotten me.”
“Walter is a good man,” I said. “I know he doesn’t want to hurt you.”
“You don’t know anything,” she said. She turned to Estefani. “Tell Walter to call my attorney tomorrow.”
She walked out without a backward glance. Estefani jumped up from her desk, and we crowded together at the window overlooking the parking lot. Dolores stepped up to Hans-Friedrich and threaded her arm in his, and he led her to his sleek black sedan.
Who’s the Boss?
When I heard Walter return from his depositions, I walked out to the lobby to meet him. He looked like he’d been taken out behind the lawyer’s office and beaten with a rubber hose. Estefani was asking him something, and he held up his hand. “I don’t want to talk about anything. I just want to go home and sleep.”
“But, Walter…” Estefani began.
“No buts. Whatever it is will wait until the morning.” He walked into his office and grabbed his messenger bag, then left the trailer.
“I didn’t even get to tell him that Dolores was here and that she wants him to call her attorney.” Estefani pouted. She looked at me. “Aren’t you going with him?”
I shook my head. “He decided it was better if I went back to my apartment for a while.”
I left the trailer a few minutes later and drove to the Beach. Gavin was in the living room when I walked into the apartment. “We were just about to rent out your room,” he said. “How are things with lover boy?”
“Not so good.” I slumped into the chair across from him and poured out the story. “I don’t understand why he’s pushing me away. I’ve already shown him that I can be helpful.”
“Maybe he just needs some time by himself,” Gavin said. “Look, the guy’s going through some major shit. Divorce, coming out, and now his business falling apart. Give him some space.”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
He shook his head. “So, you want a beer?”
“Sure.” We drank a couple of beers and heated up some frozen tacos. When Larry came in late that night, I gave him the abbreviated version of my sad story, and I went to bed. All the exhaustion and drama of the last few days caught up with me, and I slept through my alarm, waking up when the morning light crept into my bedroom around eight.
I sat up, yawned, and looked at the clock. “Fuck me!” I scrambled out of bed, threw on my clothes, and darted down to my car. I was on the causeway to the mainland when my cell phone rang.
I had already given Walter his own ringtone—UB40’s version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love with You.” I grabbed the phone. “I’m so sorry. I overslept, it won’t happen again, please, Walter—”
He interrupted me. “As long as you’re all right. I was worried when you didn’t show up at the meeting. You’ve always been so dependable.”
Was that all? Dependable? “I’m on my way in. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“Drive carefully, Manny,” he said, and he hung up.
Not the romantic declaration I was hoping for. But it was good that he cared enough to call and make sure I was okay.
When I walked into the trailer, Estefani motioned me over to her. In a low voice, she said, “I told him to call Dolores’s lawyer.”
“And?”
She shrugged. “He just said thank you and went into his office. What’s going on?”
“I have no idea.”
I went into my office and got to work. Adrian had taken notes in the morning meeting, and I had a bunch of things to update on my schedule. Around eleven I heard Walter leave the office, telling Estefani to cancel the noon meeting. I went out to the site and told the managers, and caught up on what I’d missed.
Everyone wanted to know what was up with Walter. I had to say I didn’t know. When I got back to the trailer, there was an elaborate basket full of chocolates on Estefani’s desk. “For you,” she said. “It must be an apology from Walter!”
That didn’t sound like something he’d do. I opened the little card and read, “Thank you for the referral. RVMA.”
“It’s not from Walter,” I said, my heart sinking. “Just business. A referral I made.”
Estefani looked disappointed. I carried the basket back to my office, wondering what it meant. Had Roberto been able to put together a deal for Walter? Or was he just thanking me for making the connection?
If anything could go wrong, it did that afternoon. Materials were delayed or became unavailable. Crews were shorthanded or didn’t appear at all. The project was falling apart, and Walter wasn’t returning calls or texts. I did what I could to put out fires, making phone calls, suggesting alternates—but Walter was right. I was nowhere near qualified to take over Camilo’s job. I could barely manage my own.
Walter still hadn’t returned to the office by the time the contractors quit at three thirty. A couple of the supers checked in on their way out, and all I could say was that I understood Walter had another week’s worth of money in hand, and that everyone should come back on Monday morning.
I was exhausted. I had dirt in my hair and sweat pooling in my ass crack. I wanted to go home myself. But I felt like I had to wait around for Walter.
At four-thirty, my phone buzzed with a text from Walter. Dinner @8 @Van Dyke?
The Van Dyke was a long-time restaurant on Lincoln Road. With sidewalk tables and big open windows, it was very much a see-and-be-seen kind of place. Not somewhere Walter and I should go if he was still trying to keep our relationship, such as it was at that point, on the down low.
But I wasn’t going to argue. I texted back yes. I was still in love with Walter, and if he’d asked me to meet him in Antarctica, I’d have asked when I could get a flight. I was thrilled he was still talking to me.
I carried my chocolate basket out to the lobby. “I don’t think Walter’s coming back,” I said to Estefani.
“Yeah, he just texted me to close up.” She looked up at me. “Do you think we’re closing down next week?”
“I don’t know. He asked me to meet him for dinner. Could be to say he got the funding he was looking for—or it could be to say adios.”
I nibbled on one of the chocolate bars as I drove home. It was really good, a brand I’d never heard of that advertised its cacao content on the wrapper. I took a long, luxurious shower with Gavin’s expensive bodywash. I scrubbed away all the sweat and grime of the site and let myself be seduced by the scent of a thousand tiny lavender blossoms growing on a hillside in Provence.
When I looked in my closet, I had no idea what to wear to dinner with Walter, because I didn’t know what to expect. Would he tell me that he’d made a deal with Roberto or with some other bank, and the warehouse development could continue? Or would he tell me that everything had fallen apart, and it was best if we didn’t see each other again?
I remembered what Walter had said, that he’d wanted to kiss me from the first time he saw me dressed up in my interview suit. Well, why not? I hadn’t worn the suit in months, but it hung pristine in its dry-cleaner bag. I put on my sexiest pair of Andrew Christian briefs, then stepped into the suit pants.
I pulled the plastic wrap off my best dress shirt and put it on, loving the feel of the soft cotton against my skin. My FU logo tie and my best black loafers finished the picture.
Gavin whistled when I stepped into the living room. “Whose funeral are you going to?”
“Maybe my own,” I said. “I’m meeting Walter for dinner at the Van Dyke.”
I took my time walking over there. It was hot and humid, and I was determined not to arrive at the restaurant looking like I’d been through a swamp. I got there just at eight, and Walter was waiting on the sidewalk for me.
>
He looked impossibly handsome, with a five o’clock shadow and a couple of stray black curls on his forehead. His chest bulged beneath his green Loredo polo shirt. He wolf-whistled, and I blushed. And then he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on the lips, which eliminated any doubts I had about the future of our relationship. An old queen at a sidewalk table snickered and said, “Get a room!”
Walter and I pulled apart, and we followed the hostess to a small wrought-iron table in the front window. “You sure it’s okay for us to be so public?” I asked Walter as we sat down. A warm, humid breeze blew past us, shaking the leaves of the palm tree outside, and I had this sudden vision of what life must have been like in Havana in the fifties, louche and sexy and tropical.
“I signed the divorce papers this morning,” he said. “Dolores had a sudden change of heart. It’s still going to cost me, but at least I’m free.”
“That’s terrific.” I told him about meeting her the day before, and how she had left the site with Hans-Friedrich. “Maybe he’s responsible for her attitude change.”
“If Hans-Friedrich can change her attitude so fast, he’s a better man than I am.” He picked up his menu. “I’m starving,” he said. “I need some meat.”
“Walter, not here,” I said, pretending to be shocked.
He guffawed. “There’ll be time enough for that later.”
As we read the menus, the background music switched to the song I’d assigned as Walter’s ringtone, UB40’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love with You,” and I realized just how hooked I was on Walter Loredo.
We ordered mojitos, Caesar salads, and steaks, and when the waiter had taken away the menus, Walter said, “That’s not all I did today.”
I picked up my water glass and sipped. “What else?”
“I spent a couple of hours with your friend Roberto.”
“He’s not exactly my friend,” I said.
“Well, he’s my BFF now,” Walter said. “Because he managed to convince one of his Venezuelan clients to lend me enough money to finish building out the warehouses, at an interest rate that won’t strangle me.”
The waiter delivered our mojitos, and Walter raised his glass to mine. “Thank you for everything, Manny. I couldn’t have managed all this chaos without you.”
I clinked my glass against his. “There’s more chaos waiting for you at the site. This afternoon—”
He interrupted me. “Work can wait until Monday morning. This weekend is just for you and me.”
I fiddled with my silverware. “I just want you to know that I recognize you’re right. There’s so much about construction and real estate development that I don’t know. It was silly of me to think I could take over Camilo’s job. I just want to keep doing what I’m doing and keep learning from you.”
“One of the things I figured out from being married is that any relationship is a give-and-take,” Walter said. “I’ve got just as much to learn from you as you have from me. I feel like I slept through a lot of my twenties. You have a lot of joy in you, Manny. I want to share in that.”
Our salads arrived, and we talked. Walter told me about his first construction job and all the mistakes he’d made, and I realized again how much I could learn from him.
We kept on talking through our steaks, and when the waiter asked if we’d saved room for dessert, Walter said we’d pass and asked for the check. Then he leaned in close to me. “You still have that red satin jockstrap?”
“You mean the one with the elephant trunk?” I smiled. “You bet. Would you like to see it?”
“Absolutely.”
He took my hand as we walked out of the restaurant, joining the parade of friends and lovers on Lincoln Road. This was what I had been dreaming of for so long—just the simple pleasure of walking with the man I loved. Looking up at the sky, I had the sense, as I often did on the Beach, of how close the horizon was, that land ended within just a few blocks and the vast, endless ocean began.
A forest of green and orange café umbrellas lined the middle of Lincoln Road, with narrow sidewalks in front of stores and restaurants. In front of us, a young Jewish guy wearing a blue yarmulke, with white fringes sticking out from under his shirt, conducted a conversation in rapid Hebrew with a woman of about the same age, wearing a long skirt and a kerchief over her head.
A little white girl with bright red hair and rhinestone sunglasses darted around a palm tree and past a skanky old white bum sitting on the concrete surrounding a fountain. Walter had parked his car around the corner from the restaurant, and it was a delight to slip into a leather seat and relax as Walter navigated the narrow streets back to my building. I turned the air vents toward me and let the cool air blast me.
Neither of my roommates were home, which was a disappointment—I wanted to parade Walter past them. But I had to settle for leading him to my bedroom, where I finally got the chance to do what I’d been wanting to do all evening—wrap my arms around him and kiss him until his lips began to swell.
I backed away and started to pull off my suit jacket. “Let me,” Walter said. “I remember the first time I saw you in this suit.”
He slipped the jacket off and folded it over a chair. “This is what I wanted to do then.” He looked like a little kid about to unwrap a Christmas present.
“Hold that thought for a minute,” I said. I slipped my iPhone into the clock-speaker by my bed and hit a couple of buttons, and a smooth Cuban melody filled the room.
I turned back to Walter, who carefully loosened my tie and lifted it over my head. He laid the tie with the jacket and undid the first few buttons of my shirt. I shivered from the close contact as he pushed the fabric aside and bent down to suck on my nipple.
I arched my neck back. It was like he’d connected an electric wire to my groin, and my dick began to swell against the confinement of my pants. Walter nibbled and sucked on first one nipple, then the other, as I stood there. Then, with fumbling fingers, he unbuckled my belt.
I pushed him back lightly and kicked off my loafers, then peeled off my socks. He shimmied my pants down over my hips, and I stepped out of them. He laid them aside with my jacket and tie and turned back to me.
“Muy guapo,” he said softly. Very handsome. I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I had to agree with him. My starched white shirt hung half-open, accentuating a V-shaped swath of tanned skin. The shirttails hung over my black-and-white briefs, which clung to my equipment.
“Now it’s my turn,” I said. I tugged the hem of his polo shirt up and slipped my hands beneath the fabric. I kissed him as my hands explored his silky chest. Walter hummed low in his throat.
I lifted the polo shirt over his head, and as I did he kicked off his deck shoes and unbuckled his belt. He dropped his pants to the floor and stepped out of them. He wore a pair of white briefs, and his stiff dick pressed against the fabric. A wet spot grew where the tip of his dick had begun to ooze precum.
I unbuttoned my shirt the rest of the way and tossed it on top of my suit as the music changed to a faster tempo. My dick was just as hard as Walter’s as I stepped out of my briefs. I got to my knees on the bedroom carpet and began to lick Walter’s dick through the white fabric. He groaned.
After I’d soaked the fabric with my saliva, I peeled it down and took Walter’s dick in my mouth. I only got to suck it for a minute before he pulled me up to face him again. He kissed me and drew my body close to his.
Both our dicks were slick with precum and saliva and we rubbed them together. “I want to feel you in me, Manny,” he whispered into my ear. “I’ve never had a man fuck my ass before, and I want my first time to be with you.”
“Are you sure, Walter?”
He nodded and smiled. “You said once that you had something precious and you gave it away to someone you didn’t care about. I won’t make that mistake.”
I remembered how I’d told him I lost my virginity to an anonymous guy at an X-rated bookstore, and how I regretted it. “Lie down on your side,�
� I said. “I’ll get the stuff.”
I dug around in my bedside table for a condom and lube, and squirted some lube around Walter’s hole. Using my index finger, I massaged it inside and up his channel. “Oh,” Walter breathed. “That feels so good.”
I was so eager to fuck Walter that I couldn’t get the condom wrapper open. My fingers kept slipping. “Let me do that,” he said, and I handed it to him. He ripped the package open and handed me the limp tube, which I hurriedly skinned down over my dick. I squirted some more lube into my hand and ran it over my dick.
I crawled onto the bed behind Walter. “Take a deep breath,” I said as I pressed the tip of my dick against his hole. “Relax.”
He inhaled, and I pushed forward. “Ow!” he said. “Take it easy, Manny.”
I stopped for a bit, giving him the chance to get accustomed to the feeling, and listened to the music—a slow, sexy number with horns and saxophone. I smelled the lavender bodywash mingling with Walter’s lemon cologne. When I inched forward, though, I could tell Walter wasn’t enjoying himself. He kept wincing and taking fast breaths. Finally I felt I was all the way in. “How are you doing?” I asked.
“It feels like there’s a baseball bat shoved up my rectum,” he said. “No wonder Dolores wouldn’t let me do this.”
“Just relax,” I said. “You’ll like it.”
He shook his head. “No. Pull it out.”
I backed out a couple of inches. Not all the way, but enough to give Walter some breathing room. Then I slammed back into him, aiming for his prostate.
“Manny!” he barked. He twisted so I could see his face, and his eyes widened. I slid back a bit, then forward again. “Yeah,” he said. “That…”
“I know,” I said. Looking into his eyes, I felt an animal instinct rise in me, and I began fucking Walter’s ass as he moaned and groaned and wiggled his butt and eventually began meeting my thrusts with his own. With our eyes locked, I couldn’t hold out for too long—the sensation was too intense.
