by John Charles
She laughed her bullshit laugh. "You were horny and needed to get laid. So who'd you meet and what time did you get home?"
"You really want the details? Can't a guy just enjoy a night out without having to give you a minute by minute?" She wasn't having it. Rachelle sat back, smirk on her face and waited. "His name is Lance and I have no idea why I found him so alluring since he's definitely not my type." His confession was interrupted by the arrival of their food.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, Rachelle taking notice of Forrest's features. He looked as if he were a kid waiting for Christmas to arrive. Then she put her sandwich down and said, "It's more than sex with Lance isn't it, and you're nervous about the design competition aren't you?"
A little over a year prior, Forrest submitted design plans for the new city center in Monroe. It took him a full six months to develop and thousands of hours of staff time on drawings and a scale model. His design plan was in the top four chosen. The press coverage for that one accomplishment did more than all the years of hard work leading up to that event.
Dentren Designs already had more work than they could handle. That coverage added even more. He felt as if he was drowning and couldn't get his head above water for any length of time. He was interviewed by newspapers, was featured in architect design magazines, and invited to morning talk shows. Suddenly his face became something people knew, even strangers knew Forrest Dentren. But Lance, even if he did know who he was in bed with, hadn't said a thing. It was refreshing.
His thoughts were once again interrupted as two close friends stopped at the table to say hello. Randy and David sealed the deal only a few months prior. Though Forrest enjoyed their wedding, he was envious of their bubbling love for each other. They had dated for several years, moved in together to try domestic life and found they were definitely suited for each other. Their marriage was more formality. They wanted the world to know they were in love.
Rachelle put her hand on his, looked him in the eyes, and said, "Your guy will come. Don't let yourself get down over this again. Anyway you have too much on your plate to add a boyfriend." She giggled at her bad attempt at humour.
By the time they had finished lunch, Forrest realized that Rachelle didn't get the details of his hot night with Lance. He smiled to himself as they parted ways in front of the restaurant. His walk back to Dentren Designs took on a new freshness. The balance of the day was easier than his morning. It was Friday and although he would be busy into the night, he left Saturday open.
"You have anything planned for tomorrow?" asked Eyanna as she stood in his office door.
"Yeah, a huge estate sale in Monroe. I saw the presale ad and noticed a hutch I want to check out, so I'm getting there before they open." Forrest loved antiques and made it a point to look in the papers for garage and estate sales. Rummaging through other people's "stuff" gave him a thrill. His apartment needed a hutch in the dining area and he was not going to buy one from the box stores. He wanted an antique, something with charm, something that had age and beauty. "How about you? Anything special?"
"Birthday party for my nephew tomorrow afternoon. Should be good to catch up with family that I don't see all that often." She left shortly after, knowing that her boss would spend several more hours doing what he loved.
Chapter 3
"Wow, that line is long. I think it goes around the block." Lance stood near the front window of a huge Victorian colonial in the uber rich section of Monroe. The estate sale coordinated by his mother would begin at precisely 8 AM. The people in line were anxious to get their hands on the contents of Harold Alberts' home.
The investment tycoon died three months prior leaving a contested will and several angry children. He chose to donate his vast fortunes to charity. In a letter accompanying his will, he commented, "My children were greedy little bastards that only wanted my money, so they will get none of it." Estate Sales Unlimited had been hired to sell everything in the house including his five cars.
The state appointed executor had some sympathy for Alberts' three children and permitted them to enter the house and take whatever they felt was of personal importance; however, he insisted the estate was to stay intact.
Lance enjoyed days like today. He had started working for his mother when he was twelve years old. Back then, he was a general helper. He set up tables, carried packages for people, cleaned after the sale was over. He was in awe of the homes in which they worked. To him, they were too opulent, over the top. He couldn't understand why people needed five bathrooms, two or three living rooms and five or six cars.
Spend a few years doing this and you forget to be impressed. Now it gave him the opportunity to get work from people who purchased items that required restoration or repair. He also had the opportunity to buy leftovers that didn't sell. His mother would cut him a great deal but would never give him anything without some money exchanging hands. "I'm in an honest business. If I give things away, my clients will never trust me," she said to him years prior. He didn't question her again.
A hand rested on Lance's shoulder as he looked out the window. He knew the touch. "You seem quiet today," said his mother. They had developed a special bond when Lance was very young. Emily understood him, allowed him to explore his sexuality, and his passion to work with his hands. When other parents were pushing their children to go to college, Emily offered her son a corner in her warehouse to hone his skills. She knew him.
"I met someone the other night and frankly mom, he's gotten to me." He turned, looked Emily in the eyes and said, "The thing is," he paused. "The thing is he is so not what I would have looked for."
They stood close for a few minutes. Emily waited for her son to continue. When he didn't she asked, "Is this someone who you'd want to see again or was it just a fun night for both of you?"
"I'd like to see him again, but I'm not sure he feels the same way."
"So call or text him. Ask him out to lunch or dinner, or just go for a drink. See if he feels the same. If not, then move on."
Lance looked from Emily to the window then back to her again. "I don't have his number. I met him at The Hole on Thursday. We went back to my place and. Well I didn't get his number before he left and now I'm pissed cause I want to see him again."
Before Emily could reply, her assistant said it was time to begin. Lance walked to the garage to help out there while Emily opened the door to the front porch. She told everyone in line that the first thirty people would be allowed in. "When one leaves the next in line will be permitted to enter." Though orderly, the people waiting entered quickly hoping to get their hands on a treasure before anyone else found it first.
Forrest thought arriving at seven would put him at the front of the line. He was mistaken. At least fifty people were already waiting, most having had the same thoughts as he did. The Alberts mansion was huge at over ten thousand square feet of interior space. He stood in the expansive circular driveway that framed a statue and water fountain in the center of the sweeping curve. He took in the beautiful spires, curved window frames, massive doors, and ornate trim. The garage entrance was hidden from view with a spur of the driveway leading along the side of the house. Everything about the property said wealth. I wonder what it would be like to live here. Nah, not for me.
He pulled his cell out of his jacket pocket and snapped several pictures. He enjoyed the idea of melding new with old and this house was a wonderful example of old beauty. He would copy these pictures into one of his numerous albums of similar photos, photos that he often referred to when developing his highly sought after designs. In one recent project for a British firm, he incorporated a theme from church spires into an ultra modern office building that stood in the center of a new town square. The juxtaposition of old and new, modern and antique, gave the square an appeal that would remain timeless.
He watched as people went in and the line inched closer to the door. One by one, people entered as someone came out. He was as anxious as the others who had stood in line
for hours to see how Harold Alberts lived. He didn't care how the man lived as long as he could get his hands on that hutch.
When his turn to enter arrived, he walked straight to the dining room. There on the far wall was the hutch he so desired. He was in time. He placed the sold sticker the estate person gave him on the price tag, wrote his name on it and wandered the house to see if there were additional finds. Arms full and sold stickers gone, he approached the sales table that had been set up in the huge living room.
"Looks like you found some treasures," said Emily as Forrest gently placed the items on the table. "Should I ring these up or do you want to look around some more?"
"Actually I placed my sold stickers on three pieces of furniture. I was hoping we could talk price since I'm purchasing several items," he said. "And the hutch does need some restoration work." He used his charm and winning smile to get Emily to bend a little on the price.
"Let's see what you've tagged," she said. "Then we can talk price." He led her to the three items he wanted, noting the need for restoration on each one. When they returned to the sales table, Emily and Forrest haggled as if they were in a flea market. When they were satisfied, both Forrest and Emily smiled, shook hands, and finalized the sale.
As he was putting his wallet away, he heard a voice he recognized. "Did you buy that hutch Forrest? I wanted that for Grace."
"Matthew. Good to see you again." They shook hands as Forrest replied, "Yes I did buy the hutch. I wondered if I would get the chance considering I stood out there for over two hours."
"I would have been here earlier but I had these two in tow and you know what it's like getting them moving in the morning," said Matthew looking at his two kids. The three adults laughed and nodded their heads at his comments.
"Well, I've been looking for something like that hutch for quite some time. This one does need a bit of restoration, though."
"I've got just the guy for you. I had an antique end table restored a year ago by this guy in Amity. He did amazing work. I think I have his card in my wallet." Matthew found and handed the card to Forrest and said, "Good seeing you again. Let's meet up for a BBQ or something." They shook hands again as Matthew led his children from the house.
Forrest handed the card to Emily and asked, "Do you know if this guy is any good? I'd hate to let just anybody get their hands on that hutch."
Emily looked at the card in her hand. Smiling, she said, "I can vouch for this guy. He's my son." She handed the card back to Forrest, reached for her phone and sent a text to Lance. "He's helping out in the garage." When her phone signaled a text, she smiled again saying, "He's on his way in."
Forrest moved away from the table to let other people check out. He was looking at a box of old records when he heard a familiar voice. "Who needs restoration advice, mom?"
Emily pointed to Forrest as he turned to face them. Lance looked stunned as he saw who was standing in front of him. He quickly shook his head, put out his hand and said, "Hello. I never expected to see you again."
They both stood for an awkward minute when Forrest got his voice back. "Well I needed a hutch and saw one in the ad for this sale. And I understand that you are good with your hands." He smiled at the double meaning in his words. "Would you like to see it?" He watched Lance turn bright red.
A long minute later Lance looked Forrest in the eyes, smiled and said, "Yeah, show me what you've got. I'll let you know what I can do with it." He followed Forrest to the dining room staring at the hot man's ass. He was back in his apartment, sitting on Forrest, their cocks in his rough callused hands. He almost ran Forrest down when he stopped in front of the hutch. "Sorry, my mind was elsewhere," he said blushing again.
"Yeah, I'm sure it was. So can you help me out?"
Chapter 4
The sexual tension could be cut with a knife. Lance was in lust of the man in front of him. Forrest had enjoyed their rendezvous and thought another could be fun. Lance thought about something more.
After taking a minute to compose himself, Lance asked, "What are you looking for Forrest? Are you thinking of a full restoration or just fixing the areas that need repair?"
"I like the way it looks but don't like the nasty scratches or the broken door on the top section. For a man of such wealth I wonder why Alberts didn't take better care of his possessions. What can you do to make it look new again? And by that I mean new as it was when it was made not as if it were made today."
"I think that would be a mistake, Forrest. You'd be losing the patina that has built up over the last hundred years. Let me fix the broken door, blend the scratches out, and give it a good cleaning. That way it will look great and still have the charm of an antique."
Forrest was impressed with Lance's ideas and gave him the project. "I purchased two other pieces of furniture that also need some minor repairs. I'll let you do all three if you do a good job on this one. After all I've seen what you can do with your hands." He enjoyed watching Lance blush. It was so easy to get him all heated up. "I presume you can transport it to your shop along with the other two pieces I purchased?"
"Yes, I have my truck parked out back. But I can't start working on them for a couple of weeks. My backlog takes a hit when I help out on these estate sales." He wanted to say more but was not sure Forrest would be receptive. Hesitating another minute his lust won out. "Listen, Forrest, I really enjoyed the other night." He stumbled on the words, shuffled his feet and got his courage back. "Um, would you like to get together again, maybe for a drink or something?"
Forrest too had enjoyed their liaison on Thursday night. Lance was not his typical hook-up, but thought they might have some common interests. "Yeah, I'd like that. You have anything planned for tonight?"
"Um, tonight?"
"If that's not good for you, we can meet another time. I don't usually go out during the week. My schedule keeps me way too busy so it would have to be a Friday or Saturday."
"No, um, tonight would be great. Where do you want to meet?"
They chatted about bars, clubs and restaurants for a few minutes. Forrest was surprised that he and Lance had several they both liked. They settled on Mamas, an old style family restaurant in Amity. "See you there at 7, if that works for you," said Forrest as he held Lance's hand and looked him in the eyes.
"Sure, it works for me. This place closes at 4. That gives me enough time to finish up here, get home for a quick shower, and drive to Mamas." Lance's ringing phone broke the spell. "I have to get this. It's probably my mother wondering where I'm hiding," he joked.
"Okay, see you tonight." Forrest released Lance's hand, turned and walked from the room. Wow, didn't expect that.
The call was from a long time customer with another piece of furniture that required restoration. After scheduling the project, he made his way back to where his mother and several others were checking out a long line of people. Some had purchases in their arms, others had price tags from items they had put their sold slips on. Harold Alberts' possessions were a hit. Lance was still high on lust. He had made sure to get Forrest's number before the man left. Who would have guessed that the one man he wanted to meet again would literally walk into his arms?
Emily looked up after finishing a customer to see her son walking into the room. "Lance, this young lady could use some help. She has purchased that beautiful drop leaf table. Could you talk to her about getting it cleaned and restored, please?" Lance nodded and walked with the lady to see what the table required. He forced himself to get his head out of the lust rush and back to the estate sale.
The balance of the day was profitable for both Emily and Lance. Much of Harold Alberts' furnishing sold for full or near asking price. Several people hired Lance to clean or fully restore the treasure they had purchased. And two of the five cars had retainers, subject to a mechanic's inspection.
At four o'clock, Emily ushered the last looker out the door. After she closed and locked it, she let out a long tired breath. What a day. Clean up would be relatively easy. J
ust return the unsold items back to the rooms from which they came, straighten out the mess people made during the day, and take out the garbage. It took less than an hour for everything.
Emily and her staff met at the front door, ready to give their sore feet a rest. Lance quickly joined them. "The garage is locked, all the lights are out, except those on timers, and the garbage bins are outside the garage door ready for pick up."
As they walked out, Emily called to her son, "Lance, your mood certainly has changed from where it was this morning. What happened?"
She could see the blush rise from his collar. "He was here and I got his number."
"Your mystery man showed up here? Did he buy anything?"
"Yeah mom, you sold him that old hutch."
"Oh, that is the guy from The Hole? Wow, he definitely is not someone I'd expect to see you with."
Lance looked at his feet, "You think he's out of my league?"
"What I think is that he is handsome, quite sexy, and if you ask me, and you just did, no he's not out of your league. Go for it, but don't be hard on yourself if he thinks this is nothing more than casual sex." Emily had never shied away from telling her son what was on her mind. When Lance was a senior in high school, he came home angry and wouldn't tell her what caused his angst. A week later he was still carrying the anger in his mood, so she cornered him and forced him to tell her what caused his grief.
Lance confided that a guy from one of his classes and he fooled around a bit. Then, out of the blue, the guy called him a fag in front of his friends. Here was a guy who initiated in gay sex with him calling Lance a fag.
Emily felt her son's pain but wouldn't let him see it in her eyes. She put both hands on Lance's shoulders and said, "You know the difference between him and you? You've figured out what's important, you know what's in here," she said putting her hand on his heart. "You know who you are and what you want. He has no clue and is afraid to find out. So he lashed out at you in hopes it would quell the pain he felt."
