May the Best Man Win

by M. T. Pope

  “Dad, I was joking.” I looked at him and then my mother.

  “So this is what you all call a good time? A good laugh? Well it just isn’t funny. Very callous it is. Yes, that’s what it is. We have taught you three better than to joke in that manner. Where is the respect in those situations? They are not funny. Not at all.” There was a silence in the room as of now.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “It won’t happen again. But I will ask that you two let us live our lives and come to you in our time and when we feel it is urgent enough to come. We know you love us but we have to make mistakes and learn from them.” Both my brother and sister nodded their heads in approval of what I just spoke.

  “You all can kick rocks if you think we are going to stop being interested in your lives or even asking questions. It is just not going to happen. We are the parents and you all are the children. And as all of you young’uns say, ‘Play your part and we will definitely play ours.’ Understand?”

  A few hours went by and me and my sister had us some alone time. We were the closest of my parents’ children and we talked when we weren’t busy with our own lives, which wasn’t often. We were sitting outside in a gazebo that my parents had built in the huge backyard they owned.

  “So what’s really been going on with you, Lewis, since you moved to Maryland? You find that man of your dreams you’re always looking for?” she asked as she sat Indian-style in one of my parents’ wicker chairs.

  “So you are a ventriloquist for our mother I see, with all of these questions you are asking.” I laughed lightly and smiled hard. Even though there was an age gap between us we still got along as if we were only a year or two apart. “Wellllll, I’m not looking for anything at the moment, I’m really just going to keep it chill for now. See what comes my way without pursuing them.”

  “So you saying you’re not going to give up the bootie until someone put a ring on it?” She laughed.

  “Yes. I am going to try a whole new approach for this finding-a-mate thing. It’s too much. It consumes me more than my full-time job and that’s a no-no.” I looked at her intently.

  “Please don’t tell me you have given into the hype and read Steve Harvey’s Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man book? You didn’t sell out to that ninety-day rule thing did you because I don’t think you can go that long without . . . well, you know?” She laughed again. “Plus, you had that ‘act like a lady, think like a man’ down long before Steve did. I believe that was your mantra during your high school years,” she added and then she burst into a fit of laughter again. I just sat there and watched her get her giggles in on me. When it was my turn she was going to regret it.

  “You finished?” I looked at her.

  “Actually, I am now. Go ahead and explain yourself.”

  “Well, since you being nosy and all. I had a brief conversation with a therapist the other day and it was suggested that I try something different. Like being friends first and then taking it one step at a time with the next person I met.”

  “Oh, really.” Her eyebrows rose in curiosity.

  “Yes, and I decided why not give it a try, you know, see if it works. It couldn’t hurt me to try somebody else’s way.”

  “That is true.” She nodded her head in agreement.

  “It’s like, what do I have to lose to try something different?” I shrugged my shoulders.

  “Let me ask you this though, why are seeing a therapist?”

  “I didn’t say I was seeing one, even though as fine as he was I would have played depressed just so I could be in a room with him, because he was fine. But alas, he was engaged to be married. Anyway, we had a conversation while he was in Starbucks waiting on this fiancée.”

  “Oh, okay. I was about to say. I know you not in Baltimore letting those boys get the best of you and having you going to see a therapist and all of that.” She looked a bit concerned and then relieved.

  “No, ma’am. I was just in deep, thinking about the state of my life and what I needed to do to fix it and he just happened to be in the right place at the right time. That’s all.”

  “Good. So everything else is good in your life? You healthy?”

  “Yep, I am very healthy. Thanks for asking.”

  We continued to talk a little more before we went into the house and began to watch a few movies together until we drifted off to sleep.

  The whole weekend went pretty smoothly, as it usually does. My mother cooked the most delicious meals and we all enjoyed each other’s company until it was time to go back our separate ways.

  Chapter 11

  Kardell

  Professionally Personal

  The following weeks were a breeze at work. I was no longer focused on men like I used to be. My clients were getting supreme service by my company and they were recommending me to other businesses. My clientele list was getting longer and I was happy to be in my field. And one can’t help but like the money I was pulling in. I gave a meeting and congratulated all of my staff with hefty bonuses. I believed in happy help. I liked to work in a positive environment.

  “Hey, boss man.” Lewis, one of my coordinators, walked in my office and stood at my desk as if I was supposed to ask him to have a seat. He was gay as well, and not ashamed to show it. He was the flamboyant type. I really didn’t care for his total “I’m here and I’m queer” attitude. But, I hired him because he had an impressive resume and I knew he would be a great asset to my team. Those were the only reasons I tolerated him. “You find that man yet? Because I got the perfect candidate for you. He is so—”

  “No, thank you,” I said, cutting him off. “I’m doing fine, alone.” I truly felt that way as of this week and it was so liberating. “Is there anything that I can help you with?” I asked, changing the subject. He had a tendency to want to relate since we were both gay, but I chose to keep it strictly professional, despite his constant prying. “Are you finished getting those color schemes ready for the Gordon House of Noodles campaign?”

  “It’s all squared away, boss,” he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “Boss, you have been looking really lonely lately,” he said, crossing his legs, letting it bob up and down. “I know you like to be private, but we bitches got to stick together and I want to listen if you have anything you want to get off your chest. You know, if you wanted to vent about these sorry-ass men who be floating around B-more.”

  Bitches? Did he just call me a bitch? Last time I checked I had a dick and two balls and no breasts. I just looked at him like he had lost his mind. Yet he still stared back at me like I was about to spill my guts. It was not going to happen. He was the last person I would confide in. My business would be all over the office in minutes and I didn’t need anyone to feel sorry for me. I was happy and couldn’t care less what everybody else’s standards were on happiness.

  “Lewis, first I want to thank you for your concern. It is greatly appreciated,” I said, lying, then getting up and heading toward my door. “Secondly, your hard work here is appreciated, but I need you to leave and get back to work so I can do the same.”

  He got up and walked toward me. He quickly grabbed me and hugged me, catching me off-guard. He patted me on my back as if I was in need of a cry. He then walked out of my office. I shut my door and went to my desk to continue working on my current project, ignoring the last few minutes.

  The buzzing of the phone let me know that Janice was letting me know I had a call. I pressed the intercom button to allow her to speak.

  “Mr. Spencer, you have an unscheduled appointment waiting to see you. He said he was referred by someone.” Janice spoke through the intercom with proficiency.

  I shook my head. I was not up for surprises today. It was close to the time to go home and I was ready to soak in the tub, curl up with a good book, and then count sheep. “Okay, Janice. Instruct him to have a seat and I will be with him in five minutes.” I spoke, buzzing Janice back, as I rearranged my desk so it could look somewhat organized. I still had not go
tten my organization skills together at work like I had at home, but I was a work in progress. After about ten minutes I buzzed Janice and told her to show the prospective client in.

  I got out of my chair, preparing to meet the new client as professionally as possible. I also wanted to make this quick so I could get out of here ASAP.

  In walked the client and my mouth hit the floor. It was the gorgeous waiter from the restaurant I visited a few weeks ago. What is he doing here? Please don’t tell me I just let a stalker find out where I work. Oh, God, no! I can’t shake these crazies.

  “Hello, it’s nice to see you . . . again,” he spoke, reaching out his hand to shake mine. I hesitantly reached out, but did so to show professionalism.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked as he read the shocked expression on my face. “Are you shocked to see me?”

  “Well . . . Ah . . . Ah,” I stammered, trying to find a way to ask him why in the hell was he here and not his boss. “I thought you said you were going to make sure your boss was going to get my card?” I was baffled. Why are the sexy ones always the psychos?

  “He did get the card!” He smiled, showing that knee-buckling smile.

  “Oh, so he sent you instead?” I followed up.

  “No,” he said as he reached in his wallet and pulled out a card and handed it to me. “I am the boss.”

  I looked him up and down as I read the card he’d just given me. He was fine and well dressed. Groomed to the T.

  “Oh, really?” I said, looking at him doubtingly. “And you wait tables?”

  “Ohhhhh . . . That . . . Nooo . . . That is just something that I do at all of my restaurants from time to time. I like to go back to the bottom so I will never forget where I came from. It keeps me grounded.”

  “Umm . . . humph,” I said, nodding my head, letting all that he was saying sink in. He was fine and humble. Two qualities I liked very well. Very, very well. “Please have a seat,” I instructed as I walked around my desk and did the same.

  He had on an expensive suit that had to be Versace or something like it. He took off his suit jacket and hung it over the armrest. He sat patiently as I opened up a new client file on my computer. I was stalling for time. He was fine and I didn’t know how I was going to make it through this meeting without jumping over my desk and into his visibly muscular arms.

  “Sooooo. Mr. Lopez,” I said as I turned around to face him. “What can I do to you?” He chuckled slightly. I, on the other hand, tried to recover from my fumble. “Um . . . um . . . umm, I mean what my company can do for you?”

  “Well first you can call me Mateo. I was hoping that you could run a statewide campaign that features all my restaurants.”

  “That is no problem,” I said, turning back around and facing my computer again. I could see him out of the corner of my eye and he was looking at the various pictures and degrees on my walls. Ummmmmm-mmmmm. My loins hollered out. It had been almost two months without a man and I was going through some serious withdrawal if you know what I mean. I wanted to back that thing up and now. But I had to stay focused. He was a client and I had to keep it strictly professional. Strictly.

  “Ooookayyyy,” I said, turning back around toward Mr. Lopez. “This is what I propose: a television commercial featuring you, a couple of full-page ads in at least ten of the state’s premier newspapers and at least the re-launching of two of your weakest restaurants.”

  He looked at me for a second and said, “It’s a go.”

  “Great,” I said, getting up and walking around my desk. He stood up as well and I reached out to shake his hand. Again as he shook my hand he rubbed it feverishly with his thumb. “How much is this going to cost me?” he asked with a smile, letting my hand go and putting his in his pocket.

  “Tentatively about seventy grand,” I spoke with a smile. “I can have my secretary get a contract out to you as soon as Monday with the figures and projections.”

  “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.” His eyes pierced mine as I fought to stay focused. He was so fine my pants threatened to unbuckle themselves and fall to the floor.

  “It was no problem at all,” I said, staring back.

  He turned to leave the office, but quickly turned back around. “I have a condition on signing the contract that will be sent to me.”

  “And what is that?”

  “You have to let me take you out on a date.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Lopez, I don’t mix business and pleasure,” I stated matter-of-factly. Shit! Who in the hell was that talking? I knew I wasn’t turning this fine-ass man down.

  He looked at me with disappointment. “Well, I can easily find someone else to do my marketing campaign if that is all it takes to get you to go out with me.”

  “No . . . No, that won’t be necessary,” I stated quickly. “I will disregard my stance this one time, but don’t take this as a sign of weakness. I don’t need your money. I just believe in equal-opportunity dating.” I chuckled and so did he.

  He turned and exited and I watched his walk as he exited. He was confident and I liked it.

  As I walked back to my desk I was hoping I had made the right decision in agreeing to go out on a date with him. I sat down in my chair and turned toward the window and watched him get in his car. He turned and looked up and waved at me. A smile crept across my face. I knew he was going to be a keeper, the one who would treat me right. I could feel it.

  I turned around and was startled by Lewis standing in front of me with a wicked smile and his arms folded. “Who was that strapping piece of meat?” he said, licking his lips.

  Bitch! Back off! He’s mine! You vulture! That was what I wanted to yell, but I kept it professional as usual with Lewis. He was the reason I didn’t have any gay friends. From the looks of things he probably did half the men in Baltimore. But I had no evidence of it.

  “His name is Mateo Lopez and he’s a new client who just came on board,” I spoke, ignoring his lustful gesture.

  “You’re trying to get a piece of his Mr. Goodbar, huh?” He snickered. I didn’t find it funny.

  “Excuse me!” I looked at him, offended. “Lewis . . .” I shook my head. “He’s just a client and needs to be treated as such at all times,” I said sternly. “Now, if you are finished . . . and you are . . . you need to be going,” I said, darting my eyes toward the door. He got the hint and stepped out of my office with quickness.

  I shook my head. He was plucking my nerves to the max. I just didn’t have the patience to deal with him today. I was glad I was not one of the over-the-top gays like him. He was smart and creative but a full-fledged ho. Shit, I been around the block but his ass been around the state. I could count who I slept with on my two hands. Some might not say that is around the block but to me that was more than a few good men in a lifetime. His ass probably needed to start counting hairs because his hands and feet weren’t enough.

  Chapter 12

  Lewis

  Fresh Meat

  “His bitch-ass gets on my nerves,” I mumbled to myself as I walked back to my work area. I knew Janice probably heard me, but I didn’t give a fuck. I was just trying to be nice to his ass. I was just trying to have a conversation with him and develop a friendship, but he wanted to be all uptight and shit. Fuck him. I hate stuck-up gay men who think their shitty fuck holes don’t stink. “He knows his fucking ass wanted to fuck that man. He just keeps that shit on the low.” I knew a ho when I saw one because I was trying to be a reformed one.

  “He acts as if he’s too good to talk about dick out in the open.” I continued to talk to myself in a grumbled tone. “Bet you his ass take it good behind closed doors . . . pun intended.” I laughed to myself and continued to organize the rest of my day at work. I looked at my watch to see what time it was. It was only one o’clock. I had a few more hours of work left, but I didn’t plan on staying all day. A crazy plan instantly popped into my head and I laughed to myself. I was so crafty and sneaky that I scared myself.

  Fast
-forward an hour and a half and I was in my car, in traffic, on my way home. I wasn’t feeling good. Well, at least that was what I told my boss as I put on the act of sheer “I’m sick and can’t make it.” I even went into the bathroom that was near the main work area to add to my performance. I heaved and hacked loudly enough so that everyone could hear me. I walked out of the bathroom with a wet paper towel over my forehead and leaned up against the doorpost for emphasis. Somebody helped me to desk because ‘I just couldn’t make it’. I laughed at myself in my head. I was giving them the performance of my life. When my boss saw me he gave me permission to go home. One bitch offered to take me to the emergency room and I almost lost it with a “Bitch, get out of my face with that shit,” but I told them that all I needed was some rest and I should be fine. I walked out of there as slow as a seventy-year-old in a diaper. I thought I was giving it too much, but I kept it moving right toward my car as I left the building.

  I hopped in my car and sped out of the garage as if my life depended on it. I was home in less than a half hour. I showered, shaved, and dressed to the nines within an hour and a half. I had a mission to fulfill and get on the hunt for some fresh meat. By fresh meat I mean a new face and potential new romance. I was going to stick to my “no sex before friends” stance.

  I ended up driving all the way to Cockeysville, Maryland in hope of a new life and love. I hoped that this was the final time I had to do something like this. These capers to find “the one” were exhausting to say the least. I eased out of my car at the valet station and handed the attendant my keys. I gave him a fresh twenty for incentive and “the look” to be extra careful with my car. I didn’t play when it came to my car. Dings and scratches were a no-no and I just might have flipped out on someone if it happened, especially a valet.