by R. Cayden
Cash hit the light switch, and the long fluorescent bulbs flickered above the wide open space. He had computers set up on long oak tables, chipped and marked from the woodworking days, and a chaotic mess of papers were piled on every table and taped to the wall alongside maps and diagrams and photocopies.
He was really quite fortunate, actually, to have found the studio in the first place. He just so happened to be poking around in the network of a particularly exploitative realty conglomerate. And since he was there already, he took the time to delete the file altogether and to switch the property tax payments over to a dummy account, just to be safe.
Cash unbuttoned his collar, then tossed his jacket onto the counter. He pulled some old Chinese takeout from the fridge and went to munching on it cold. He checked some photographs he had developed in the bathroom, mainly just the businesses where Lawrence’s father spent his days, places he’d scoped plenty of times before in his stalking of Horizon Zed. A couple of his desktop computers had been dedicated to unencrypting the files he grabbed from the senator’s campaign office for Reed, and he nodded as he scrolled his eyes across the screen, chewing greasy rice as code ran by.
He lifted the shiny rock he’d grabbed at the office, then tossed it in the air. Cash wasn’t sure what he expected to find, but like with the realty company, he tried not to let an opportunity slip by. And a senator’s secret files were bound to have something he could use, if the desktops he’d built himself could summon enough power to crack the encryption.
His buzzer rang out. It was crackly and old, and it made him wince every time it blared. He considered ignoring it, but when it kept blaring, he knew exactly who it was.
“What do you want, Fox?” he asked into the intercom.
“Just let me up, Harvard. Come on. I gotta pee!”
Cash sighed, then buzzed him in. He and Fox had known each other since they were hired for the same heist about five years earlier, and even though they weren’t exactly friends, their relationship was the closest thing to it that Cash allowed himself. The Harvard nickname had always annoyed him, though. While he did work his ass off and manage to attend an Ivy League school, he only did it so that he could learn to navigate high society and creep a little closer to Horizon Zed, and despite his affectations, he still felt quite attached to his roots back home in North Carolina, thank you very much.
Fox burst through the front door, then charged his way toward the bathroom. “Hell, man, I drank two beers in Alphabet City and then walked over here.” He was slim, and his long legs flew across the room until he stumbled into the bathroom, then went to pissing without even closing the door.
“Good to see you, too,” he called out.
Fox groaned from the bathroom, and Cash heard the toilet flush and the sink run. When he emerged, he stuck his hands in the front pocket of his blue hoodie, then plopped down on the old plaid couch that had been abandoned with the property. “What did you get up to tonight?” he asked.
Cash grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, then tossed one Fox’s way. “I’m working a new job for Reed, running surveillance on some rich kid. You?”
“Me? Not much. I had a bite to eat in the Village, then swung by a lovely apartment on the Upper East Side for some jewelry shopping.”
“Jewelry shopping?” Cash asked. He took a seat in a leather armchair across from Fox. “That’s sweet, Fox. You haven’t dressed up for me in years.”
Fox snorted. “You know I’m happy in my hoodies, Harvard.” He reached into his pocket, then pulled out a small parcel, wrapped in brown paper. “I told you about this job. These brooches were snatched up from their rightful home by Nazis, and like a lot of that loot, they never made it back when the war was over.” He unfolded the paper, revealing a few gleaming brooches, flush with purple, blue, and green gems. “Some very old women in Belgium will be receiving a nice surprise in the mail.”
Cash nodded, admiring the pieces. “I’m sure they’ll take you out for lunch next time you’re in Antwerp.”
Fox snatched the jewelry back. “You know I’m not in it for the glory.”
“Just the money and the smug sense of superiority over normal people.”
Fox made air quotes. “Normal people. Whatever that means. How’s Reed treating you? You know he’s a real prick. Are you watching your back?”
Cash crossed one leg over the other and narrowed his eyes. “I’ve worked with him before. I have a good sense of his sensitive spots. The job’s a bit boring, though. The guy I’m watching just drinks and parties.”
“Why’d you take it?”
“His father works for Horizon. I couldn’t turn that down. Plus, Reed is supposed to be giving me access to all his research.” Although Cash always had a sense that Fox might stab him in the back, his solitude had compelled him to share a little about his vendetta with the man, considering almost no one else would understand his obsession like Fox would.
His guest turned his eyes to the papers taped to the walls, then over to the computer, still humming as they ran their algorithms. “It’s always about that fucking company with you, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” Cash answered with a sly smile. “Consistency is one of my best qualities.”
Fox laughed. “So you’re spending the next few weeks clubbing around Manhattan? I hope the kid isn’t too much of a spoiled brat.”
Cash prickled. “He’s not at all, actually. Well, that might be an exaggeration. He seems like a sweet guy, though. Just a little lost. His family provides him a sizable trust fund and a nice apartment, but he gives the entire paycheck to charity.”
“Odd,” Fox grumped.
“It is. He has a bodyguard, too. The man just got started in security after a lot of years working as a thief in Albany. Just small-time stuff with his friends, but he’s caught my attention.”
Fox waggled his eyebrows. “Caught your attention, hey?”
“Not like that.” Cash had too many other things to focus on. He wasn’t about to let his dick distract him. He just found the energy between Raiden and Lawrence weirdly compelling, and since it was his job at the moment, it only made sense to try to figure things out. “I’ll run a little more background research on him and make sure there aren’t any loose ends I’m missing.”
“You’re always so thorough,” Fox joked, jumping back up to his feet. “They teach you that in the classroom?”
“Absolutely not. In the classroom, we just learned how to jerk off senators and bribe public officials. I had to learn research skills all on my own.”
“Just make sure you’re careful,” Fox cautioned again. “Reed can be impatient, and he’s not shy about using violence when he wants to get his way.”
Cash and Fox exchanged quips for a while longer, but soon enough, Cash’s sometimes-colleague snuck back off into the night. Cash went back to his desk and turned his attention to poking through some dossiers Reed had sent over, profiles of Horizon executives that Cash cross-checked with his own research on the men. Quickly, though, his thoughts drifted back to what Fox had warned him about.
He’d heard plenty of stories about Reed; he wasn’t surprised about that part. Cash had been working in Manhattan long enough that he was familiar with all the major players. But Fox knew that Cash could hold his own, and they’d each tumbled with men much worse than Reed could ever be, so why the warning?
He made a note to be more cautious and maybe start to poke around in Reed’s business, too, just to be safe. A few hours later, he finally yawned and started to make his way to bed. Lawrence would be meeting some friends for brunch in a few hours, and Cash found himself looking forward to running surveillance and laughing along to their gossipy conversation from the side.
And anyway, he wouldn’t actually be watching Lawrence from afar much longer. Soon enough, the background research would be done, and Cash would go in to make real contact. When that happened, he’d really see what the bodyguard was worth.
Lawrence
Lawre
nce woke up with a dull headache, his party clothes from the night before tangled on his body. He blinked his bleary eyes, and his friend Tyler came into focus beside him, still wearing his drag makeup, with gigantic blue arcs framing his eyes and heavily contoured cheekbones, although his wig and dress were nowhere to be seen.
A light breeze blew through Lawrence’s curly hair. “Tyler,” he whispered, poking his friend. “Tyler! Where are we?”
Tyler blinked, then looked around. “We’re on a roof, Lawrence. Isn’t that obvious?”
At a good twenty stories up, that was quite obvious. The roof was open and dotted only with the occasional large potted plant and some stylish outdoor furniture. Lawrence and Tyler were sprawled out on a canopied couch, right across from a small greenhouse and what looked like a woodshed, while a sturdy brick wall guarded the edges.
“Yes,” Lawrence agreed. “But why?” He peered into the distance for a moment, then frowned. “Is this the Upper West Side?”
“You don’t remember anything, really?” Tyler asked, exasperated.
“I remember your performance,” Lawrence replied, a little defensive. “Another legendary night for Miss Merry Tyler Morehead.”
Tyler popped up in bed, then struck a pose, angling his hand beneath his chin. “She makes it after all,” he joked. “Every single time, she makes it.”
Lawrence rubbed his temple. “But where are we? Really?”
Tyler sighed. He was in his underwear, and he swung his legs off the oversized couch, then went to sorting and tugging on a pair of tights and a T-shirt from the night before. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Let’s go?” Lawrence asked, confused. “Did I make a bad impression on the hosts?” He hated when he embarrassed himself; he really did.
“No, darling. You swore up and down that you knew the person who owned this rooftop. And when we entered, the woman in the lobby was distracted by a phone call, and we caught the door to the elevator when someone else was exiting, and…” Tyler frowned as he adjusted his T-shirt. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You also claimed there was a pool up here.”
“Oh!” Lawrence finally stood, and when the morning sun hit his eyes, he had to turn away from the brightness of it. “I thought this resembled the pool roof. I suppose it is somewhere around here…”
Tyler handed Lawrence his shoes. “You’re lucky no one came up while I was still in my underwear.”
“I take it we had a fun night celebrating your show, then?”
“We did,” Tyler agreed.
“Maybe I should have had my bodyguard with me after all,” Lawrence mumbled, looking around the unfamiliar place.
“So you said last night, about a million times.”
Lawrence moaned, then fell against Tyler. “He’s just so hot, Tyler. I can’t get over it. He has these big, broad shoulders, and sometimes he squeezes his hands, and I can see his muscles flex. But he’s bulky, too, which is really hot. All the guys around here work out too much, you know what I mean?”
Tyler sighed. “Can you stop talking about your bodyguard long enough for us to sneak out?”
“Maybe.”
“If he had been there, would he have stopped you from stealing that man’s cocaine?”
“What?” Lawrence yelped, then snatched his fanny pack from the ground. “I don’t even do cocaine! Why would I steal someone’s drugs?”
“To throw those drugs in the toilet. He kept talking about how he didn’t like Africans, and complaining about immigrants, and absolutely shouting the vilest things.”
Lawrence pushed back his hair. “Oh. Well I suppose I’m glad I did throw his cocaine away, then, if it helped him to shut the hell up.”
“Just remember that you shouldn’t go back to Uptown Club anytime soon.”
They made their way out to a back staircase, then down twenty-two flights of stairs, which Lawrence decided was a fitting punishment for having lost control again the night before. His legs were burning and his gut aching by the time they got to the bottom and out onto the street, full of people headed into their days.
“Breakfast?” Lawrence asked.
Tyler pulled out his phone. “Sure. I’ll see if Derrick is up.” He paused, then used his phone to look at himself. “Nowhere we’ll run into someone we know though, please. I look like I’m dressed for a princess sleepover.”
“The Powerpuff Girls T-shirt is a look. For once, I myself look respectable in a plain black T-shirt.”
“It’s a midriff shirt, Lawrence. That’s not respectable.”
Lawrence shrugged. “Let’s walk until we find a corner diner.”
“Sounds good,” Tyler said, then sighed. “I had two gigs cancel on me this month. I shouldn’t be spending my money eating out.”
Lawrence frowned. “I’ll pay for breakfast. And let me give you some money to help you along.”
“You always offer.”
“And if I push enough, you usually say yes. Anyway, it’s my money.”
“I know, I know,” Tyler interrupted. “You’ll do whatever the hell you want with your money, no matter what anyone else thinks.” They’d had the conversation a million times before and probably would have it again. “And thank you.”
“I’m investing in your drag career,” Lawrence said. He took Tyler’s hand in his, and they swung back and forth as they walked. “The world needs Merry Tyler.”
For a couple of hours, Lawrence was able to relax with his friend while the hangover eased away. Over blueberry pancakes and coffee, he mined Tyler for details on his relationship with his boyfriend. Although Lawrence was himself strictly uninterested in monogamy, he still found relationships fascinating, and Tyler was happy to indulge his curiosities.
“Well of course we don’t shower together every single time,” Tyler laughed, his blue eyelids fluttering. “That would be ridiculous.”
When they were done, Lawrence prepared to drag himself home, and he and Tyler said goodbye with a quick kiss on each cheek. Lawrence had his family dinner that evening, and he’d need to rest and clean himself up properly first, or else his grandmother would make the evening insufferable. As was not uncommon, his father was also inviting a few select guests, a diplomat and his wife that time, if Lawrence remembered correctly, and probably a colleague or two.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
He turned with a startle. No sooner had Tyler stepped away than this other man appeared, standing right there on the corner in a charcoal suit. It took Lawrence a second to recognize him.
“You bought me the drink at the Fire Hose last weekend.”
“Indeed I did.” The man popped his wrists out of his jacket. “Dixon,” he said. “And you’re Lawrence, is that right?”
In the daylight, Lawrence suddenly realized how striking the man actually was. His sandy hair was combed back and shaved tight at the sides, and his hazel eyes were bright and clear. He had grown a light beard, and his skin was smooth beneath the scruff. Lawrence offered his hand, draping it out for the man to take, which he did. “A pleasure to see you again,” Lawrence cooed.
“Could I walk you wherever you’re going?”
Lawrence paused, considering it. His hair was certainly a mess, and he knew at least a few curls were sticking in odd directions. And while the tight jeans and midriff shirt were flattering, especially in the way the jeans hugged his hips and rounded his bubble butt, he definitely needed a toothbrush.
But screw it, Lawrence figured. Another distraction from the family dinner would be nice, and it was turning out to be a lovely morning for a stroll. Why not skip the Lyft? “Down to Chelsea?”
“Quite the hike. But I guess it is a beautiful day. Lead the way.”
Lawrence smiled, then started down the street. “And what brings you out, Dixon?” he asked, glancing out of the corner of his eye to confirm the man actually was as handsome as he thought.
“Just a stroll,” he answered. “Thought I would grab an espresso and maybe the newspaper.” He glanced
at Lawrence’s outfit, his eyes trailing a hot path down his body and then back up. “And you?”
Lawrence laughed, then spun a pirouette as they walked. “Just returning home from another evening out.” Like at the club, he felt instantly charmed by his companion. And desperate for a distraction from his bodyguard, Lawrence saw no reason not to rush forward, especially with someone so suave. “Although, sadly, I have still not found love.”
“That’s what you’re looking for, is it?”
“Maybe not,” Lawrence admitted as they came to a stop at a corner. The sidewalks were only lightly filled with pedestrians, and carts on the street sold breakfast sandwiches beneath the skyscrapers. “But who’s to say? Just the other week, the most handsome man bought me a drink when I was out dancing and then disappeared like a ghost.”
“That is a predicament. And thank you. Such a sweet compliment from a true beauty.”
Lawrence felt his cheeks pinking. Straightforward, pornographic come-ons? Those he could field all day. But this Dixon guy was charming, and that had him flustered.
“Coffee?” Lawrence asked, nodding toward a food cart.
The stranger bought him a latte and got himself a double shot of espresso in a tiny paper cup. Pigeons flew by, and cars honked, and all of a sudden, Lawrence remembered that he had his heart-shaped sunglasses in his fanny pack, which he popped on.
“Thank you for the coffee,” Lawrence said, lifting his cup in the air.
“My pleasure. Even if you aren’t looking for love in the evening, there’s no saying what could happen over coffee.”
Lawrence scrunched up his face in an attempt to hide a smile.
“Too cheesy?”
“Only time will tell,” Lawrence answered with a wink.
“I’ll take that wink as slight encouragement. How do you like living in Chelsea?”
