Dreamspinner Press Year Four Greatest Hits

by Felicia Watson

“You don’t.”

  “They say that if you can stand to look at your partner after a night of raunchy sex, there’s hope for some kind of future.”

  “I like what I see.”

  “So do I,” Lil smiled. “Would it be too repulsive to give me a coffee-breath kiss?”

  “Not at all,” Grier brushed his lips against Lil’s and even gave him some tongue. “We both taste like coffee.”

  “I heard you talking to someone.”

  “First Luca and then my dad.”

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s early here, but nine o’clock in Illinois is practically midmorning in my family.”

  “Good Lord. So you’re all morning people?”

  “Pretty much. Luca was asking about Sebastian.”

  “We have to pick him up today.”

  “Who watched him while you were gone?”

  “One of my assistants.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Is everything alright?”

  “I had a strange conversation with Luca.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Grier recounted everything as Lil sipped his coffee and listened. “Well, that puts a new spin on things, doesn’t it?”

  “I have no issues with them getting married, if it’s what they want. But I want my parental rights out in the open and acknowledged. I’m not going to let Ali walk into a ready-made family and declare himself the father by default. It’s not fair to Luca.”

  “Or to yourself,” Lil added. “It’s time, Grier.”

  “I think you’re right. I’d like to discuss this with a lawyer and see what he has to say.”

  “I’m certain we can fit that into the schedule. Now, let’s take a nice warm shower and get ready for the day.”

  Grier’s smile said it all.

  LIL’S ARCHITECTURAL firm was in the Transamerica Pyramid at 600 Montgomery Street, in the heart of San Francisco’s financial district. It had started out as a two-room office after graduation, but as his clientele increased, so did his workspace. He’d expanded little by little, taking over more and more square footage as the need arose, and eventually ended up occupying almost a third of the eighteenth floor. Lil kept meaning to find another location. He trembled each time there was a minor earthquake and the building did what it was supposed to do―gently sway to accommodate the shifting tectonic plates―but the inconvenience of moving, along with having to redo business cards and stationery, was a pain in the ass. So he stayed, and gritted his teeth every time he got into the elevator, hoping he’d made the right choice.

  The plus side was that he had a beautifully decorated office to showcase his talent, and Grier was blown away as Lil gave him one more tour. He would have never guessed how successful Lil was by his easy-going and unassuming manner. There wasn’t a whiff of arrogance about his lover, which made Grier care for him that much more.

  “This is the drafting room,” Lil announced, pushing the door open. “Everyone, this is my friend Grier from Chicago.”

  There were ten drafting tables and a wall of shelves that held reams of paper and already completed plans, rolled and ready to go to job sites. Two enormous Xerox machines slid underneath the shelves, and computer terminals took up the other wall. Eight men were hunched over their projects and barely took the time to look up, but when they did, Grier could tell they were happy to see Lil and greeted him informally. Light poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, which gave the room a warm and cheerful atmosphere.

  Lil took Grier’s hand comfortably and headed out to another room across the hall. This one was far less utilitarian, and more like someone’s living room, with clusters of sofas, easy chairs, and coffee tables. There was a wall of wooden shelves with large books, some of which lay open on the long trestle table close by.

  “What’s this?” Grier asked.

  “This is the room where clients pick out their décor. We have hundreds of books with wallpaper and fabric samples. The floor covering choices are on the bottom shelf. If the clients can’t find what they want here, we bring in more samples. I try and weed out this mess every six months or so because I don’t want someone to fall in love with a fabric or a wallpaper that’s no longer available.”

  “That would suck.”

  “Really. If you go into ID, you’ll spend a lot of time in a room like this.”

  “I know this is a large part of it, but I think I’d prefer the space designing more than the trim.”

  “You’ll have to learn all aspects of interior design, including this part.”

  “I understand. Where is everyone?”

  “They’re probably at lunch, which means we get to go out as well.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “North Beach.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s the Italian section of town, where they have some great restaurants and bakeries. They also have primo shopping―leathers and lace,” Lil said with a grin. “Alla Prima is on Grant Street, walking distance from the restaurant I have in mind.”

  “Aha! I see where you’re going with this.”

  “I’m trying to feed our hunger and our kink in one location.”

  “Aren’t they one and the same?” Grier teased.

  “Come on.” Lil draped an arm around Grier’s shoulder. Before walking out the door, he stuck his head into the staff room and told his assistant he was leaving for the day. “I’ll swing by your house this evening to pick up Sebastian.”

  “Okay,” a woman in her forties replied. She was chewing on a sandwich and reading off her Kindle. “I don’t mind keeping him longer, if you’d like. He’s been a good companion.”

  “He’ll probably disown me if I leave him for much longer. By the way, Grier, meet Brandy. She’s my intrepid assistant. I couldn’t function without her.”

  Brandy smiled at Grier. “He functions just fine, with or without me, but it’s really nice to meet you.”

  “Same here.” Grier smiled back.

  “I’ll call before showing up.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  CAFFÉ BAONECCI was a small restaurant between Grant Street, where the lingerie store was located, and Bannam Place. They touted the thinnest pizzas in the city, and there was definite truth in the advertising. Lil had eaten there several times and knew that their ingredients were always fresh and of the finest quality. The thin pizza was as different from Chicago-style pizza as night and day, but Grier seemed to enjoy every bite of the mascarpone, mozzarella, and prosciutto pie smothered in San Marzano sauce. While they waited for the pizza to bake, they had a salad of mixed greens with walnuts and apples, lightly drizzled with olive oil and lemon. All in all, Grier had no complaints and would most definitely return if he were ever in the area again.

  They walked to Alla Prima, window-shopping along the way. The weather cooperated and stayed in the low eighties with a slight breeze to cool them off. Grier had left his leather jacket in the car and looked sexy in his skintight T-shirt and faded blue jeans. Lil enjoyed seeing the admiring glances from men and women they walked past because Grier only had eyes for him and was obviously comfortable with Lil’s arm resting lightly around his waist. When they stepped into the lingerie store, they separated to peruse the shelves. The saleswomen were discreet and stayed in the background, waiting to be called on for advice.

  Grier felt like Alice in Wonderland, dazzled by the array of finery as he handled the different laces and silks in a myriad of colors. He was partial to the boy briefs and thongs while Lil concentrated on garter belts and silk stockings. They kept piling items on the counter, and when they had a small mountain, a saleswoman stepped forward and asked them, without flinching, whether they’d like to try anything on before purchasing the items. Grier’s blush crept all the way up to his hairline, and he stammered out a firm, “No,” before Lil could even jump on the suggestion.

  They left with two bags full of goodies from La Perla, Aubade, and Cosabella, some of th
e finest names in European lingerie. He couldn’t wait to get back to the apartment to try them on, but Lil had one more stop in mind. After locking their shopping bags in the trunk of the car, they headed in the opposite direction until they stood in front of East-West Leather.

  “They’ve got some first-class stuff in here,” Lil remarked.

  “Not surprising,” Grier admitted. “You gravitate toward the best.”

  “You noticed.”

  “Who wouldn’t?

  “Let’s put my good taste to use and find a nice black vest to go with the pretties we just bought.”

  Grier nodded enthusiastically and entered the shop. Half an hour later they emerged with a black leather vest made of Italian aniline suede. It was buttery smooth, supple, and fit Grier perfectly. Lil envisioned the brunet with nothing on but the vest, a black garter belt, and ivory silk stockings, and he was achingly hard in seconds.

  “I was planning to take you to my lawyer’s office, but we may have to postpone that trip,” Lil said after they got into the car, and he started the engine.

  Grier leaned over and kissed him deeply. “Hold on to every one of your deviant thoughts, Lil. I’d like to talk to your attorney first.”

  “Yeah?”

  “We have all night to play.”

  Lil took a deep breath and put the car in gear. “Okay….”

  They headed back to the Embarcadero, and Grier was surprised when they were ushered into the attorney’s office within minutes. Almost as if they were expected.

  “Lil, what brings you to my neighborhood?” The man who stood behind the desk and stretched out his hand to shake Lil’s was arresting in a three-piece charcoal pinstriped suit. He had a full head of silvery hair that curled around his neck, giving him a youthful appearance despite his advancing age.

  “John, this is my friend Grier. He’s the father of that young boy I was telling you about.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Grier.” John shook his hand forcefully and pointed toward the two chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”

  They took their places, and John picked up his phone. “Bring us some coffee, please.” After he replaced the receiver, he clasped his hands on his desk and looked at them intently. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

  “I’d like to know what my chances are to get joint custody of my son.”

  “Lil has given me a few details, but I’d like to ask some questions. Keep in mind that I practice in California, not Illinois. Every state has its own way of handling child custody cases, so you will need to see an attorney when you get home. All I can do is offer advice as it would pertain to a California resident.”

  Grier nodded. “I understand.”

  “Lil said your name does not appear on the birth certificate.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Yet, despite her refusal to acknowledge you as the father, she has no qualms about leaving the child in your care three days a week.”

  “Not only that. I’m listed as the emergency contact at his school.”

  “I thought she lived with her parents? Wouldn’t it be more logical to have her mother and father as the emergency contacts?”

  “Maybe they were, initially, but the Garcias went on vacation one year, and she switched everything over to me and never changed it back. I’m also listed on the Durable Power of Attorney for Health Care, which allows me to make medical decisions, if need be.”

  “And what did she write on the line where it asks about your relationship to the child?”

  “Neighbor and friend.”

  “How long have you been his sitter?”

  “Five years.”

  “Is there any way you can get her to agree to DNA testing?”

  “She’s refused several times.”

  “You could petition the court to allow a DNA test, but once the legal system is involved, everything becomes much more complicated. It’s always simpler to try and sort things out amongst yourselves with a retired judge mediating the entire process.”

  “Can’t I just do it without her permission?”

  “It would be an invasion of privacy, and most probably, inadmissible in court. Have you supported the child in any form?”

  “His name is Luca.”

  John nodded and held his next question when his secretary stepped into the room carrying a huge silver tray with coffee paraphernalia and a plate of cookies. “Ah, refreshments,” John exclaimed with the delight of a young child. The man clearly took his coffee breaks very seriously, and they each spent a few minutes adding cream and sugar to their cups as needed. “The cookies are homemade,” John bragged. “Go ahead, have one.”

  Grier picked up a brown nugget and sighed when he bit into the chocolate truffle-like dough. “That’s delicious.”

  “My wife makes a batch once a week.”

  “Thanks for sharing.”

  “My pleasure,” John said, popping a cookie into his mouth. After he swallowed it and took a quick sip of coffee, he continued his questions. “Tell me, Grier, have you given Luca’s mother any money throughout the years?”

  “No, but I’ve recently started paying for his speech therapy.”

  “Why does he need therapy?”

  “He has a lisp.”

  “You have receipts to prove that?”

  “Yes.”

  “How else have you contributed monetarily?”

  “I opened a college fund right after he was born.”

  “How much is in there now?”

  “Roughly twenty-five thousand give or take a few cents.”

  “That’s an impressive amount.”

  “He’ll need much more if he wants to go to a good school.”

  “If you keep saving at this rate, he’ll be able to go to Harvard.”

  “If that’s what he wants to do, then I’ll have the money to support him.”

  “May I ask why you’ve waited this long to try and claim him?”

  “She’s thinking of marrying, and her fiancé has agreed to adopt Luca. I want to contest that by claiming him as my child.”

  “You can claim putative status by filing forms with the social service department and vital statistic registration.”

  “What is ‘putative’?”

  “A ‘putative father’ is a term used to describe a man who is either alleged to be the father or claims to be the biological father but is not married to the mother at the time of the birth. A putative father has not yet been legally established as the child’s father by a court.”

  Grier sat forward immediately. “What is the advantage of filing a form?”

  “The agencies will contact you if the child is put up for adoption or there is any attempt to terminate parental rights. However, in your case, these rights need to be established somehow. The simplest way is to hire a lawyer to petition the court to allow DNA testing. Once paternity has been proved, you can file for recognition as his father legally and ask for joint custody, if that’s what you want.”

  “That’s what I want. I want to be recognized legally, and I’d like joint custody.”

  “Have you ever been arrested?”

  “Absolutely not,” Grier said forcefully.

  “Any minor infractions? Speeding tickets?”

  Grier shook his head.

  “You have had no incidents that would create any sort of ripple effect if she were to have you investigated?”

  “No!” Grier was outraged, but then he remembered last week and turned to Lil. “Should I mention Rick’s?”

  “Rick’s?” John asked.

  “It’s a bar,” Lil answered. “Grier had a fight with another guy but no police report was filed. It was settled right then and there.”

  “Why are you asking all these questions?” Grier asked, clearly disturbed.

  “Custody fights can get nasty, and she may have you investigated if she’s provoked. As I said before, your best bet is to try and settle this amicably, and not involve the law.”

 
“What if she doesn’t agree?”

  “Then you’ll have to fight for him in front of a judge and everything becomes open to scrutiny.”

  “Fuck!”

  “RELAX,” JOHN soothed, “we’re talking worst-case scenarios. It’s unlikely that anyone will find out about the incident at Rick’s since it was never reported to the police.”

  Lil nodded in agreement. “He’s right, Grier. Even if they have you investigated, it’s my credit card that paid for the damages, so they’ll think it was my fault, not yours.”

  “I suppose if they really want to turn one bar fight into a big deal they could,” Grier admitted.

  “That goes without saying. Anything can be misconstrued if the intention is to defame your character. You’re better off trying to figure out how to prove your paternity, rather than wasting your energy on an incident that may or may not come to light,” John pointed out.

  “If I can somehow convince our family that I’m Luca’s father, can this agreement between us be resolved in private?”

  “It should be a simple matter of getting an attorney to file the right papers. The law only intervenes when there’s a dispute.”

  “That’s what I’ll have to do.”

  “We’re back to proof, Grier,” John pointed out. “It’s your word against hers without DNA.”

  Grier frowned and nodded. “I know, but won’t all the other things count? Jillian never trusted anyone to watch Luca except for family members, and I was always her first choice when it came to a sitter. I don’t have to prove how much I love him; everyone knows.”

  “Then maybe it will be a question of who has more credibility, especially with the fiancé.”

  “That’s another issue,” Grier said despondently. “He’s my brother.”

  “Oh. That’s a sticky wicket, isn’t it?”

  “It’s awkward.”

  “Have they been engaged for a long time?”

  “No. It’s very sudden, and I’m still trying to understand the relationship.”

  “Love doesn’t always have a timetable or a rationale,” Lil interjected.

  Grier turned toward Lil and had to concede the truth of his statement. Love was unpredictable, and oftentimes, inexplicable. Grier knew how much Lil had come to mean to him in such a short time. Who was he to say that Ali and Jillian hadn’t found some sort of connection despite being platonic for years? “You’re right. I have to assume Ali loves her enough to deal with the revelation that I slept with her and fathered her child.”