Father made an impatient gesture. “I know all this, Jonathan. You want to get to the point?”
Jonathan gave a bitter smile. “Ever the charmer, Father. Yes, I’ll get to the point. I’m gay. I’m a musician. I’m a grown man, and my life is my own. I’ll love who I want, and if that’s Marco Pellegrini, then there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“I can disinherit you.”
“Oh, that’s fine. I’ve been expecting that, to tell you the truth. I have no interest in your money, Father, or my stock in Vallen Industries, or this house, or whatever else you want to threaten me with. Mother left me set for life, and you can’t get your hands on any of that.” Jonathan stood. “The only reason I’d want any of the Vallen fortune is to help make a difference in the world. Marco and I are going to start a foundation for gay kids. It would be nice to have your money for that, but not necessary. And again, just so you’re clear—I am never again working for Vallen Industries.”
He waited for a moment, but Father’s face had become mottled with angry red patches and he seemed incapable of speech. “Well. Good-bye. Have a good life.” Jonathan went to the door.
“Jonathan.”
He turned back. “Yes?”
Father’s jowls quivered with rage as he spat out the words. “You’re going to regret this. I’m glad your mother isn’t alive to see how you’ve turned out.”
Jonathan softened at the thought of Mother. He could practically feel her cheering him on. “Mother knew I was gay. She loved me unconditionally. I think she’d be very happy to see how I turned out. Good-bye, Father.”
He walked away—head held high, hand on the pendant, feeling Marco’s energy surrounding him and giving him strength and pride. And his mother’s love lingered in the background, soft and ever present. He caught a glimpse of her portrait over the living room mantelpiece as he walked by and blew her a kiss. “Love you, Mother. Always.”
Time to go home. He had another gift to send to Marco. And he wanted to cross a few things off his list. Living out loud, indeed!
Chapter FOUR
“I’M VERY excited about your proposal, Marco.” Viva sat back from perusing Marco’s plans for an LGBT foundation. “Thank you for bringing it to me.”
“You’re welcome. I’m excited too. LGBT youth need these services so desperately.”
“They do.” Viva folded her hands together and fixed Marco with a shrewd gaze. “I’m curious as to why you decided to focus on this particular population.”
Viva Parker, a dynamic black woman who had single-handedly built the LGBT center here into a thriving operation that served up to 300 youth every day, was nobody’s fool. She and Marco had first met at a charity function when he was still involved with Ashley Henshaw.
“Ah. Well, I’m bisexual. I had a hard time dealing with that as a youth myself, but thankfully my very Catholic and Italian mother had a great heart and didn’t ostracize me for it. So many young people aren’t that lucky.”
“True. I hadn’t realized you were out? Just wanting to make sure I’m appropriate with what I tell my staff about your proposal and you.”
Marco felt his throat tighten. He’d been out as hell on the cruise, but here in the midst of his Boston life, it felt different. More threatening. Not that Viva had been scary to come out to. But she was the first of many.
“Yes. I’m out. It’s fine to tell your staff I’m bi.”
“Okay. Not that I’m going to tell them, unless they ask.” Viva stood up. “So how about I e-mail you with suggestions for the foundation board, and we can schedule an initial planning meeting soon?”
Marco stood as well. “That’s fine. I’d like to give you a name for the board. Jonathan Vallen.”
Viva raised her eyebrows. “Oh? Vallen Industries owner?”
“No. Son of. And he and I have already talked about the foundation.”
“Very good.” Viva made a note. “Thank you again.” She reached over her desk and took Marco’s hand, giving him a firm handshake. “Welcome aboard the bus.”
Marco laughed. “Talk to you soon.”
He was walking down the hall of the LGBT center when he stopped. Coming in the door was Jonathan. He didn’t see Marco, and he wasn’t alone. Another guy, obviously gay and infuriatingly handsome, was talking to Jonathan, saying something that made him laugh. As Marco stood, rooted to his spot, Jonathan and his companion turned down another hallway and disappeared from sight.
Jonathan. Jonah. His cheeks had been rosy from the cold, his golden hair windswept. The green-and-turquoise scarf around his neck had brought out the blue in his eyes. He’d seemed relaxed and confident. Marco wanted him so badly his feet began to take him in the direction Jonathan had gone. No more waiting. He was Marco Pellegrini, dammit. He didn’t wait for things to happen—he made them happen!
As he got to the hallway Jonathan had disappeared down, his higher nature prevailed. No. Remember. You’re waiting for Jonathan to make the move. But what if he’s moved on? wailed his insecure side. Chiding himself for a fool, Marco left the center.
“THANKS FOR coming to volunteer today, Jonathan.” Chad gave him a winsome smile as they walked down the hall to the music room. “And when can we expect you back at the chorale?”
“Soon. I’m closing on a townhouse in the city in a few weeks.”
“So you’re moving back to Boston?” Chad’s eyes glowed. He’d always seemed to have a little crush on Jonathan, even before. Now he looked like he wanted to devour him.
“Not completely. I’ll keep my cottage in Cape Cod, but I miss being where the action is.”
“Ooo, I can show you some action, honey.” Chad did a little hip wiggle.
Too bad for him—Jonathan had no room for flings. Not when he was in love with Marco Pellegrini. Before Chad could embarrass himself further, they’d reached the music room and the group of kids who participated in the chorus Chad had started. Jonathan had agreed to fill in on the piano while their regular accompanist was on vacation.
They plunged into rehearsal, and Jonathan lost himself in the music. Chad was doing some great things with the kids. They were mixing it up, with music spanning the 1700s to current rap and hip-hop. The kids loved Broadway music, and Jonathan mused about feeling old because the kids considered Rent a relic. They were all about Hamilton and In The Heights, and Lin-Manuel Miranda was their god.
Playing the scores using his sight-reading chops, Jonathan felt a calm bliss he hadn’t experienced since walking in the island gardens with Marco. Even better, his love for music felt pure and uncomplicated. No one could ever interfere with it or take it away.
He watched the faces of the kids as they sang and saw the same pure, uncomplicated bliss. These kids had been through hell with their families, most of them, and what a blessing music was. How it healed and empowered.
He thought of Marco then, and that first evening they had spent together talking about music. That was when Jonathan knew he could love Marco. Something wet splashed onto the keyboard, and the score in front of him grew blurry as he was filled with longing—and hope.
AFTER LEAVING the center, Jonathan settled in a nearby coffee shop and considered his list, which he carried with him everywhere.
LIVING LIFE OUT LOUD
1. Place in Boston—ALMOST COMPLETE
2. Rejoin chamber chorale—SOON
3. Organ lessons
4. Learn Rachmaninoff 3rd—IN PROCESS
5. Move rest of things out of Father’s house—COMPLETE
6. Volunteer at LGBT youth shelter—COMPLETE—start foundation?
7. Say yes to Anthony re going out at least once/week—COMPLETE
8. Boston Marathon—start training
9. Talk to Father—COMPLETE
10. Call Marco
He was burning through the list, and #10 kept staring at him accusatorily.
Chapter FIVE
“YOU WANTED to see me, Frederick?”
Marco stood in the doorway to Frederic
k’s office. He’d never succeeded in dislodging him from hanging around Vallen Industries every day, even after Frederick had given away the running of the company to Marco. But at least he’d stayed out of Marco’s way enough to let Marco turn the company around.
“Come in. Shut the door.” Frederick didn’t raise his eyes from his work, which was his usual behavior with everyone—from Marco, the CEO, down to the janitor. Rude bastard.
“What’s up?” He approached Frederick’s desk but didn’t sit in the chair strategically placed to put the person at a lower height than Frederick. Marco kind of enjoyed towering over him. He took his kicks where he could get them. “Did you read the report I’ll be giving to the board? I think they’ll be quite satisfied with the job I did for Vallen.”
“I haven’t read it yet. I called you in to tell you I’m not signing this.” Frederick shoved over a document with a careless movement.
Marco saw it was his separation package—the promised bonus, company stock, and other benefits that Frederick had used to sweeten the deal when they’d lured Marco away from his last company to work at Vallen. Marco remained outwardly calm while he seethed at Frederick’s malice. “And why is that?”
“Oh, I think you know the reason why, Pellegrini.” Frederick spat out the words like nails. No doubt he’d nail Marco to the wall if he could.
“No, I’m afraid I don’t.” Marco’s record as CEO of Vallen was exemplary, and the results the company had produced under his command had been off the charts. He knew there was nothing Frederick could fault him with—professionally, that is. He waited, with a sick feeling, for Frederick to get to his fucking point.
“You probably weren’t aware there’s a morality clause in your contract.”
“Actually, I was. I read every word of my contracts.” And at the time he’d signed it, Marco had been in the closet and dating Ashley Henshaw. He hadn’t foreseen engaging in a public scandal, and he hadn’t. Frederick was talking about what went on between two consenting adults in the privacy of their bedroom. He wondered about the legality of Frederick invoking the morality clause to screw Marco just because Marco had screwed his son. His 29-year-old son. “My lawyer will be in touch.” He stalked to the door and opened it. Frederick’s voice sounded, and he turned to face him.
“You won’t win. And if you had any decency, you’d stay away from my son.”
“I doubt Jonathan considers himself your son, Vallen. He told me his mother was the parent who loved and looked after him. And I’d advise you to stop acting like you have anything to say in the matter of Jonathan or how he lives his life. He’s done all he can to shed himself of you and your vile, toxic influence, and I applaud him for that. He’s more of a man than you are or ever could be.” Oops. A little over the top, Marco, for a business conversation. Dial it down. Marco clenched his fists, fighting to appear unaffected. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer about my separation package. I’ll see you at the board meeting.”
He slammed the door on Frederick’s sputtering and walked away, ignoring the curious glances from staff members. The fucking cretinous lowlife. Marco didn’t really need the separation package, as far as money went. It was the principle of the thing, and the way Frederick was trying to besmirch his reputation. Marco wouldn’t have it. Not after building himself up from nothing in this stuck-up town.
After a frustrating drive home through the Boston traffic, Marco stopped by the desk of his building to see if any packages had come for him. He’d been doing that off and on ever since that wonderful exchange of flowers. I’m such an idiot. Jonathan could have moved on. He’d looked pretty chummy with that guy at the LGBT center.
But today, as if Jonathan somehow knew how much Marco needed encouragement, the desk clerk handed over a large square package with no return address.
Marco accepted it with eager hands and, bypassing the slow elevator, ran upstairs to his apartment. Shooing Bunny away, he ripped off the brown paper and removed the padding to reveal a picture. Bunny meowed. “Here.” He gave her the wrapping to play with and walked to the dining-room island with his prize. Propping it up against the wall, he studied it.
It was a watercolor of fish. They swam toward the center from each corner, delicate and ethereal, making the painting resemble a mandala. The colors were incredible—turquoise, orange, blue, and light green. It was the brightest thing in Marco’s monochrome apartment.
“Color. From my Jonathan. And fish! Didn’t I call him part fish? This one’s about our snorkeling adventure. Ti amo, pesciolino—my little fish. I love you.”
Marco heard himself. He really did love that man. He thought about what to send Jonathan so he knew it too. Aha! He knew exactly what his next present to Jonathan was going to be.
Chapter SIX
JONATHAN COULDN’T contain his smile as he accepted the bulky package from the FedEx guy. Another present! He was liking this game he and Marco were playing. He had to hurry, though. This afternoon he was signing the closing papers on his Boston townhouse, and then he and Anthony were going out dancing to celebrate.
Jonathan tore off the wrapping, wrestled open the box, and laughed. He pulled out the snorkeling mask, then the flippers. An envelope was lying in the box, and he snatched it up and opened it. A gift certificate for scuba-diving lessons at a local dive shop in Cape Cod. When Cantata stuck her nose in the box, Jonathan petted her, envisioning trips to the Caribbean with Marco at his side, snorkeling and scuba diving. Happiness tingled through his body. He loved that Marco saw him that way—as a partner in adventure.
Later, after signing through a stack of papers with Alonzo, Anthony grinning at his side as if he were the mastermind of everything, Jonathan emerged from the real estate office, the owner of a townhouse in the Back Bay section of Boston. Anthony strode along with him, chattering away.
“Doll, I am mega-proud of you! You have been on fiyah since we got back, and I just love seeing what you’re doing. But listen, we need to talk about your man. I don’t think you should wait much longer to see Marco.”
“You’re probably right.” A happy warmth filled Jonathan again at the thought of Marco’s latest present. “Guess what he sent me today? A mask, flippers, and a certificate for scuba-diving lessons.”
Anthony stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “That is fabulous! So he’s planning on more excursions in the Caribbean, huh? You two snorkeling and diving side-by-side?”
Laughing at how unerringly Anthony had echoed his own vision, Jonathan touched his pendant, which he carried in his coat pocket. “Yeah, that’s what I think it means.”
“Good! Let’s go in this coffee shop. I’m freezing my bits off.”
After getting hot drinks, coffee for Anthony and tea for Jonathan, they faced each other over a small table.
Anthony leaned forward. “I heard some gossip. About Marco and Uncle Frederick.”
“Oh?”
“Uncle Frederick is trying to screw Marco out of his severance package with some shit about the morality clause in his contract. My spies at the office overheard Marco ripping Uncle Frederick a new one and saying you’re more of a man than Uncle Frederick will ever be.” Anthony’s eyes were round and serious.
Jonathan felt his cheeks warm. “What? I… don’t even understand all that.”
“The bottom line is, Uncle Frederick’s pissed as hell at Marco for getting involved with you, and he’s trying to punish him for it. He was over at Dad’s last night and got drunk and was raging about what a shithead Marco is, then gloating about how he’s keeping him from getting his bonus.”
“But is that even legal? Being gay doesn’t violate the morality clause, does it? There’s federal antidiscrimination laws that protect LGBT workers, right?”
“I think so, but I’m not sure how it all works. I also hear that Marco’s got a lawyer who is going to take Uncle Frederick to court over the severance package thing if he doesn’t stand down.”
“Two alpha dogs fighting it out to the death. Why i
s Father bothering? He’s not going to win. Not against Marco.”
Anthony pursed his lips in disapproval. “Alpha males are so trying. I hope it doesn’t land in court. I mean, I know you’re not in the closet anymore, but to have your thing with Marco raked over the coals… not good.”
Jonathan’s hand tightened around his tea cup. “Are you sure that would happen?”
“No doubt. And there’s plenty of evidence for it. How many Facebook pics are there of you guys smooching? A ton.” Anthony placed a soothing hand over his. “Don’t worry, doll. I doubt either of those alpha dogs is going to let things get that far.”
“I hope not. But it’s not right for Marco to just accept what Father’s doing. Not right at all! Isn’t there some way to get Father to drop it without having to go to court?”
“Hmm. I know! Sophia mentioned something about interning for Lambda Legal. I’ll give her a call and hope she doesn’t hang up on me. We have to see if there’s a way to fight it on the basis of LGBT discrimination. I mean, maybe if Uncle Frederick gets what he’s doing is illegal, he’ll drop it or settle.” Anthony’s doubtful expression said what they both were thinking—Frederick Vallen wasn’t one to back off from a fight, even if he was in the wrong.
“Okay.” Jonathan kept his voice calmer than the storm swirling inside him. If he’d been angry with Father before, now he was furious. He’d call up the bastard himself and tell him to give Marco his bonus, if he thought it’d do any good.
He sipped his tea and tried to center himself. This means war. The thought arose unbidden, but not unwelcome. Jonathan—gentle lover of flowers and music—was ready to don armor and march into battle for Marco. Much as he hated the thought of their shipboard love affair going public in a nasty court case, Jonathan was determined that Marco get what he deserved from Vallen Industries.
All the Way to Shore Page 15
