Beach Balls

by Tara Lain

  Bill smiled. “Hey, buddy. Take it easy. We got this. You know me. I never like to lose money, and I’ve got the most dough in this project. Trust me. We’re handled. We’ll go in there tomorrow night and kill it.”

  Adam stared at his partner. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” He shook his head. “I’m done for the night. I have the traffic reports finished and the legal issues handled. I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Sure, sure, Adam. We all appreciate your expertise and how hard you’ve worked. Get some sleep. We’ll see you at the meeting.”

  He gathered his stuff. The room stayed quiet, and everyone seemed to be trying not to stare at him while treating him to their phony smiles.

  Six pushes on the elevator button, and it finally arrived. Inside, he leaned against the wall and tried to breathe.

  Home. He had to get home. When the bell dinged, the door couldn’t open fast enough for him. Outside, he took a deep breath, walked fast to his car, and started the engine. Home.

  A half hour later, he was sitting on his leather couch in the great room with a bottle of scotch and a bottle of fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice on the coffee table in front of him. One glass. He stared at both of them. Choose. Past or future?

  He sat in a room he didn’t love filled with things he didn’t need that his money had bought. He had friends who weren’t really friends and family that wasn’t really family, because they didn’t know him. He had a stake in a project he didn’t believe in that would bring him more money to buy more stuff he didn’t like. Shit, he ought to drink the scotch.

  And he didn’t have Sky. Make that two bottles of scotch.

  Adam poured grapefruit juice into his glass.

  How the fuck had his life ended up like this? He’d planned it so carefully. The last spontaneous thing he’d done, if he didn’t count getting involved with his own worst enemy, was when he’d decided to come out to his family ten years ago. Since then he’d plotted everything as though his life belonged on a giant spreadsheet. Went to college and law school in California, three thousand miles from his family and everyone who knew he was gay. He’d dated girls and even fucked a couple because gossip was rife. That had taken a lot of alcohol. No offense to women; he liked them better than most men. Just not to fuck.

  When he’d started out with a big law firm, he worked so many hours he didn’t have time to fuck anything but his right hand and hardly had the energy for that, but he’d gotten in good with the firm’s developer clients. When he’d left to start his practice, WMA had come with him. He was grateful. But they’d gotten a good deal. He’d worked his ass off for them and made everyone a lot of money.

  He leaned forward and buried his head in his hands. And he was miserable. Being around someone like Sky made it worse. Even if Adam hadn’t wanted to screw the guy morning, noon, and night, the simplicity with which Sky embraced being gay slapped Adam in the face.

  Sky. Adam sat up and sipped the grapefruit juice. The bitter sweetness puckered his mouth. Bittersweet, like the man whose influence forced Adam to drink this stuff like it was ambrosia.

  What had Sky done? Adam had just spent a day and a half at Carly’s but had fucked no one. Not because he didn’t need sex. Shit. He was back to the fuck-a-duck condition. But nobody looked good to him. Not tall enough. Not skinny enough. No curly hair.

  He leaned over to the end table and pulled out a bottle of lube he kept for just such occasions, lonely nights with only right-handed company. Squirt. He yanked down his sweat pants. Even Mr. Happy was in the dumps. He took hold and stretched himself out, then did the same to his balls. That felt good.

  He remembered Sky’s tongue on his balls. That had been way better. Like when his cock slid into Sky’s hot mouth. Jesus. Phenomenal.

  Okay, getting a rise out of him. Good hard strokes, up and twist, up and twist. Yeah. That’s good. Up and twist. Not as good as Sky’s giant cock buried deep in his ass. Oh God. That was the best. Every stroke tortured his gland in the best way ever. God. Yes. Harder. Yes. God yes. Harder. Harder. Harder.

  Sky. Fuck me, Sky. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuck. Yes. Jism pumped into his hands until it squished out between his fingers. His body shook, and zings of electricity flashed from his cock up his spine into his head. Only one feeling. Only one thought. Only one.

  Sky.

  SKY LOOKED around at the community members and people from the Newport Nature Preserve. Good. They’d overflowed the lobby of the administration building, so he’d commandeered this meeting room. “Does everyone have their part and know their order?”

  Mary Hayes smiled. “I think we’ve got it, Sky. We’ll keep the suckers here till midnight if we can.” She laughed. Mary was his mom’s friend. The reason he’d taken this project on. He never let himself get close to humans, but this time was different. He liked these people. A lot. Mary was a good woman—smart and capable.

  Sky nodded. “Their so-called expert is a real crook, but he’s convincing as hell. So don’t lose your cool and start ranting at his bullshit. Just present what’s on your paper. I’ll spring the illegal grading issue, which may cause any council members on the fence to vote no. We’ll see. We’ve got a strong case.”

  Mary cocked her head. “It would cost a lot to sue them, Sky. I don’t know if we can do it.”

  “We don’t want to sue them. We want to scare them into selling to us. That’s our goal.”

  One of the older men from the group cleared his throat. “Just wanted to say thank you, Sky. You’ve given us a chance here. I don’t want my grandkids to have to live through all that crap getting stirred up during the building, and I’ll move away before I let them play on top of it.”

  Sky smiled. Yeah, they were all good people. “Hopefully you won’t have to make that choice, Joe.” He picked up his papers and files. “Let’s go in and let them know what they’re dealing with.” He stepped on his good foot and gently lowered the bandaged one to the floor.

  Joe stepped up. “Can I help you, Sky?”

  He almost said no. When would he ever learn to let people help him? “Sure, Joe, that would be great. If I can just lean on your arm, I’ll be good.”

  Mary opened the door and led the group out into the lobby and down the hall to the council chamber. They stopped outside, waiting for him and Joe to make their slow progress. They were already expected in the council chamber, but what the hell. Why not do the drama? He nodded at Mary, who pushed open the doors, and they all filed in.

  Bill was just walking to the microphone. Perfect timing. Sky hobbled up the aisle on Joe’s arm. He heard murmurs. Where was he? Sky didn’t want to look. Damned eyes. He couldn’t stop from staring all over the audience. No Adam. What the hell?

  Once again people saved seats close to the front, so they walked down and took their places. Joe sat on one side of him and Mary on the other, next to the aisle. Sky looked over at Westman, the bastard. The guy nodded with a tight smile.

  Bill glanced around the audience. He looked…. What? Puzzled? Concerned? He started to talk.

  The chamber door opened again. Sky looked back. So did Bill. Adam entered and sat in the next-to-last row. What’s going on?

  Bill seemed relieved and presented a traffic plan that had been okayed by Caltrans.

  Mary leaned in to Sky and whispered, “They did a good job on that.”

  He nodded. Impressive. “Yeah. But it’s a costly solution.”

  “The council doesn’t care how much WMA has to spend. They’ll be rolling in the tax revenue.”

  “True. But I’m surprised WMA doesn’t care.”

  Bill must have liked the smiles and nods he was getting from the council, because he looked a lot more confident. “And now we’d like to address the environmental concerns raised by the council at our last meeting. May I introduce our environmental expert, Dr. Westman?” He blabbed on for a couple minutes about Westman’s credentials.

  Westman got up and said everything Sky expected. He showed diagrams of the rem
ediation methods that would be used and cited examples of other cleanups that had been done successfully using these techniques. Hell, if Sky hadn’t known better, he would have been convinced himself. The man was good.

  Mary leaned over. “Whew. I’m worried.”

  Sky blew out a breath. “We’ll do what we can.”

  Then it was their turn. One by one, the community members came to the microphone and read their three-minute piece of the puzzle.

  “Hi, my name is Joe Murch. My grandkids live with me. They’re five and seven. I believe that the construction of the site will subject them to all kinds of exposure to toxins of the worst sort.” He picked up his paper. “The study done on the site shows evidence of benzene and toluene….”

  “I’m Wilda Kazinsky. I live right beside the ranch. My last two medical checkups have shown abnormally low red blood cell count. They can’t find a cause and have suggested it might be environmental. The levels of xylenes in the soil are off the chart and….” She read on until the timer flagged her.

  Person by person they built their case. Sky glanced back toward Adam, who hadn’t moved.

  Mary whispered, “Isn’t that Adam James back there? Why didn’t he present with the developers?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “He sure is quiet. God, if he doesn’t present, won’t it be better? I think the council likes him the best.” The lines on her face deepened as she smiled. “I certainly do.”

  Sky’s laugh escaped. He clamped his mouth shut as two council members glanced up at him. “You bad girl.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “No. That would be bad woman, and don’t you forget it, boyfriend.”

  His turn. He glanced at Adam. Nothing. What the hell?

  Sky walked to the mike and reintroduced himself. “Ladies and gentlemen, environmental impact reports are like the Bible. You can use them to prove anything, but that doesn’t make them true. In front of you is a very thorough soil analysis and environmental report from this property, taken two months ago.”

  Bill’s head snapped up.

  Worry, asshole. “The land is covered with environmentally sensitive habitation. Efforts have been made to mask this fact through illegal grading and scraping activities, which were done in the last month. The Newport Nature Preserve is currently filing suit against the developer for this illegal activity. It’s still being determined whether the city will be included in the lawsuit.”

  The crowd rumbled. A couple of people shouted. Sky held up a hand. “Regardless of the outcome of the suit, the fact remains that the Coastal Commission will never approve the development of this environmentally sensitive land. It’s a nonstarter. On top of that, even if I was wrong and the site could be remediated for human habitation, the developer would never be able to justify the cost. It would take millions of dollars just to attempt the remediation. If I may adopt developer-speak, it won’t pencil. The site will sit unremediated as a danger to the surrounding community. The other option is that you allow the Newport Nature Preserve to purchase the land outright from the developer and instigate phytoremediation, which will cost tens of thousands of dollars versus millions. Nature cleans up itself and the site becomes a beautiful open space and a natural habitat to countless protected species—a significant enhancement to Newport Beach.”

  The timer held up a hand.

  The last speaker for the community got up. The head of the Newport Nature Preserve presented the proposal for purchasing the land from the developer and how they were raising the money.

  They were done. Sky looked at the council members’ faces. Lilly March smiled grimly. Hamston looked disgusted. The other five appeared in various stages of confusion.

  Sky glanced back at Adam again. Quiet. Still.

  Bill stood up for the redirect. Obviously he was trying to adopt Adam’s easy, likable, trustworthy manner. Not by a mile, bucko. He did a little blah-blah-blah about their expert and experience, but he didn’t add anything new.

  The second he finished, Lilly March leaned forward at the council table. “May I ask why Mr. James isn’t presenting with you tonight?” She nodded toward Adam in the back.

  Bill shifted his feet. “Mr. James prepared the traffic report, ma’am.”

  So that explained why it was so good.

  She smiled like a mongoose staring down a cobra. “And yet he didn’t present it.” She looked up. “Feeling off your feed this evening, Adam?”

  A few people laughed. Sky looked back at the tall, handsome man who drove him over the edge. Smart and dumb, trustworthy and lying, heroic and cowardly. God, what a package.

  Adam stood. “No, ma’am. I prepared the report as Bill said.”

  “And it was excellent, Mr. James, as always. May I ask why you’re not up here defending to the death the right of this project to exist?”

  She was breaking protocol. Completely out of order. Sky grinned. Lilly was such a dragon lady that the mayor didn’t have the balls to shut her up. Besides, he bet everyone in the room wanted to know the answer as much as he did.

  Adam shook his head a little but said nothing.

  The chamber was silent. Everyone stared at Adam James.

  Finally Bill Woolsey broke the silence. His voice sounded exasperated. “Mr. James is no longer involved with the LLC. Therefore, he does not need to speak for the project. Now, if I may conclude?”

  Son of a bitch.

  Noise rose in the chamber, but Sky barely heard it. Adam had walked away.

  Bill said a few more words. Lilly March stood up and made a rousing speech supporting everything in Sky’s report and stating emphatically that she would never approve the project. Earl Hamston tried to counter her, but the dragon lady was better informed and a lot meaner. Two other members sided with Lilly, and the mayor caved as predicted. One more jumped on the bandwagon at the last minute, so the project was defeated five to two.

  The chamber went nuts. Mary leaped up and threw her arms around Sky’s neck. “You did it, you did it, you gorgeous thing.”

  “Actually, I kind of think Adam James did it.”

  She winked. “Have you ever considered getting to know him better? I think he’s right up your alley.”

  He knew his mouth was hanging open. “You can’t be serious.”

  She shrugged and laughed. People slapped him on the back as the mayor tried to restore order for the next item on the agenda. Sky gathered his stuff and looked back.

  Adam was gone.

  Chapter Six

  ADAM STARED out the window of his small, cozy office at the peaceful view of a little wooded courtyard and stream. The place felt more like home than his home, but he’d hardly been here in months. He’d spent all his time at WMA. Not anymore, he guessed. They hadn’t fired him when he’d pulled out of the LLC yesterday morning, but he expected it. Of course, WMA wasn’t his only client. Still, it represented about 45 percent of his business. A big gorilla. Shit.

  The partners had been shocked when he’d pulled out, but he’d read both environmental reports, Westman’s and Sky’s. Jesus, talk about hours of boring detail. But the situation looked clear. The remediation would cost way more than estimated, if it could be done at all. So he’d walked away for nothing in return.

  That wasn’t like him. But neither was grapefruit juice.

  He rolled back his chair and propped loafered feet on the desk. A couple of ducks walked by the window, and he imagined their quacking. Bye-bye, million dollars. It would have been nice, but he really got that some things weren’t worth the price. He had some money in the bank and only two employees to support. He could get new clients, which Cat, his assistant, had been telling him to do. He hadn’t had time, but now he would.

  He dropped his feet and grabbed the mouse. Might as well face the music. He stared at his inbox. Nothing from WMA yet, but one name leaped off the screen. S. S. Mickeljohn.

  He clicked.

  Want to talk about it? I’ll be having lunch at Crystal Cove today at noon. S.

 
Calm down, heart. How many ways could you say shit yes?

  The clock said ten forty-five. Maybe he’d go down early and put their name in at the restaurant. He could beat the crowds. Walk on the sand. He looked at the crazy ducks. Bring about world peace.

  Who am I?

  He closed his office door and pulled his jeans out of the closet. He performed a quick-change observed by the ducks, added a pair of flip-flops, and headed for the outer office.

  Cat looked up from the contracts she was creating, her long blonde bob swinging. Here she was, the woman he loved. His good right arm. One of the few people on earth who knew him.

  “I’m going to lunch.”

  She glanced at the clock and looked surprised, then gave him a slow once-over. “Playing hooky, are we?”

  “Kind of.”

  “That’s encouraging. Want to tell me about WMA? So I know what to say if they call.”

  “I pulled out of the LLC.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “It wasn’t going to pencil. They’ll all be out of it before long. The costs to make it buildable are prohibitive.”

  “They couldn’t have loved you pulling out.”

  “No.”

  “Can we afford to lose them? I keep telling you we need another big client.”

  “Yes and no. Don’t worry. I’ve got some thinking to do.”

  “Could be dangerous letting you think too hard.” She grinned.

  “Point noted. See you in a few hours.” He walked to the front door.

  “Adam?”

  He looked back. “Yeah.”

  “Do you have a new boyfriend?”

  Did he? He shook his head.

  “I thought maybe from your eager expression. Taking off in the middle of the day.” She shrugged. “I was kind of hoping.”