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19: Rude Awakening

last update Last Updated: 2025-02-22 01:20:30

Once in bed, I tossed and turned for a long time, going back and forth between my business problems and my Javier dilemma, but I must have fallen asleep at some point because I woke Monday morning to banging on my door. I hadn’t quite recovered from Jason’s bar mitzvah; the shots of Vladi Vodka the night before, coupled with an awful lot of dancing, hadn’t helped. My head was pounding as I pulled on a pair of boxers and stumbled to the door.

There was a cute redheaded guy in a business suit standing there. “Adam Beller?” he asked.

“That’s me.”

“FBI Special Agent Angus Green. We have a warrant to search the premises and confiscate any materials relating to your business with Vladislav Solonenko.”

At first, I thought it was a hoax. That Jean-Jacques had hired a stripper to come to my door in the guise of an FBI agent. At any moment I expected the guy to peel his clothes off and start dancing.

But sadly, he didn’t. A homely older guy followed him inside, and the two of them pulled on rub
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  • Mi Amor   20: Big Brother is Watching You

    Jean-Jacques and I spent the afternoon figuring out that our business was fucked. We had less than a thousand dollars in our business account, almost no new work on the horizon, and now we were under investigation by the FBI. Talk about a lousy way to start the week. He left for a meeting about a pro bono job he was doing for his mother’s church in Little Haiti, and I donned ear plugs and a sleep mask, and went back to bed.My dreams were restless. Richard and I were in elementary school again; then Javier and I were dancing the hora with Vlad and Agent Green. Javier suggested I apply for asylum in Cuba to avoid the FBI. He said he would build me a house and then take pictures of it.Jean-Jacques announced he was moving to Cape Canaveral to be an astronaut. He promised to take a bottle of Vladi Vodka to the moon with him, along with a DVD of Vlad fucking me.Richard called and woke me at six with his flight arrival time. I walked around my apartment like a zombie, lost without my comp

    Last Updated : 2025-02-22
  • Mi Amor   21: Not an Airhead

    In the morning, Richard just wouldn’t let up. “I need to understand this,” he said, while toasting himself a bagel. “Why did you let him use you? Are you stupid? Didn’t you realize this was a money laundering scheme?”“No, I didn’t. Before yesterday I didn’t even know what money laundering was. In case you forgot, I didn’t go to law school. I’m just an airhead party planner.”“You’re not an airhead. Which is why I don’t see how you got into this mess.”I couldn’t keep the secret any longer. “It was sex, Richard. I had sex with him, all right? That’s how I got my first job with him, and that’s how I kept him as a client. I gave him blowjobs and let him fuck my ass.”Richard put his bagel down, a sour look on his face. For a minute I was reminded of that scene with Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men when he says, “You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth.”“So?” I asked. “Now you know. I like to get my ass fucked, and Vlad Solonenko has a big dick. Bigger than mine, bigger than your

    Last Updated : 2025-02-22
  • Mi Amor   22: Let's Put on a Show

    Jean-Jacques came over, and we sat down to take stock. It was March, and we were just finishing up our busy winter season. Business was always slow for us during the summer, when snowbirds flew home and tourist traffic diminished. All we had were our regular parties, like the Big Boys Blowout.We’d been so focused on our work for Vlad, including the specialty martini product launch, that we hadn’t gone out looking for new business. “We need to start networking again,” Jean-Jacques said. “There’s a Miami Beach chamber of commerce meeting next week. You could go to that.”“Boring.”“We need to line up some business, so you need to get your ass in gear or this business is going down the toilet.” He looked at me. “What about your new boyfriend? He’s probably got some connections.”“He’s not taking my calls,” I said.“What?”I told him the story. “You called him once,” Jean-Jacques said. “What? An hour ago? Give the man a chance to get back to you before you give up on him.”“What would he

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  • Mi Amor   23: Lost Phone

    My favorite Cuban restaurant is Versailles, on Calle Ocho, Southwest Eighth Street in Little Havana. Imagine a diner with crystal chandeliers, where the guy at the next table could be a grizzled veteran of Brigade 2506 from the Bay of Pigs, or a pharmaceutical sales rep with a six-figure income. The language is Spanglish and the food to die for.After we ordered, I called Javier again, and once more the call went directly to voice mail.“He’s ditching me,” I said, tossing the phone to the table. “That’s not the way it works. I’m supposed to be the one to avoid his calls, to send him a text that says I just want to be friends. It’s not him, it’s me.”“Maybe he skipped town with Vlad,” Jean-Jacques said.“Not helping.”“When you fall off a horse, you have to get right up again,” he said. “We’ll go on a manhunt after dinner.”“I don’t know that I’ve fallen off the horse yet. Maybe my foot is still hanging from the stirrup.”“You can’t have it both ways, Adam. Either he’s dumping you, and

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  • Mi Amor   24: Burlesque Acts

    From the moment we met, Javier had seemed so confident, so sure of himself. Could it be that I did frighten him? “How am I scary?” I asked.“You have to understand the world I come from. My parents are very old school, very Latin, very Catholic. My world is very macho. Everything you are, everything I am, goes against all that.”“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” I put my hands on my hips. “I haven’t said I want to meet your parents yet. And I don’t have to ever come to your office, if you don’t want me to.”He shook his head. “You make me want those things. To take you home to my parents, to walk down Lincoln Road holding your hand, to kiss you on the beach in the moonlight. And that scares the shit out of me.”“Well, at least you understand how I feel. I’m crazy about you, you know that?” I straddled him, and started kissing him. “You don’t have to spend the night. But if you think I’m letting you get out of here before I have my way with you, you’re very mistaken.”I opened hi

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  • Mi Amor   25: Lincoln Road Gossip

    Thursday morning I read through the Miami Herald online, looking for any mention of Vlad Solonenko. The front-page story was that Raul Castro had been spotted with an iPod, and all factions of the Cuban community weighed in on what they suspected he was listening to. Some thought vintage Celia Cruz, while others suggested Daddy Yankee and other reggaetón stars. There was even one group favoring Frank Sinatra and his version of “My Way.”The rest of the world could be falling apart, I thought as I skipped forward, and the Miami press would still seize on any Castro-related tidbit. But no matter how I looked or searched, there was nothing about Vlad in the paper. The FBI was keeping things on the down low – just as Vlad had lived his life.Jean-Jacques came over around noon, and we went through the lineup of acts. We had a gay rapper named Baby Huey; Iona Trailer; the acrobats we’d seen the night before; and a pair of guys who did ballroom dance “with a twist,” among other acts.“Who’s

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  • Mi Amor   26: King Tut’s Tomb

    Jean-Jacques was there, though. And fortunately, he’d thought to dig around and find the combination for the lock on the unit. “At least we can throw away whatever’s up there,” I said. It was a sweltering afternoon, so we decided to go into the air conditioning to wait for Agent Green.“It’s like opening King Tut’s tomb,” Jean-Jacques said when we got to the unit. “We have no idea what’s inside.”“I know. A bunch of crap.”We weren’t disappointed. We’d just started dragging out some big flats painted in carnival colors, left over from a Mardi Gras party at one of the clubs, when Agent Green showed up. “I wish you’d waited to open the unit until I got here.”“You should have said something,” I said.He stood by while Jean-Jacques and I dragged the flats down to the communal Dumpster. They were so dusty we were sneezing by the time we’d gotten rid of all of them.“Guess FBI agents don’t like to get their hands dirty,” Jean-Jacques said. “He’s cute, but he could have offered to help.”Be

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  • Mi Amor   27: Headache

    I told that to Richard. “You’re giving me a headache,” he said. “I’ll have to talk to dad about this. I’ll call you back.”Jean-Jacques and I stopped at the office and told the clerk we weren’t going to renew the lease on the unit, and that we’d emptied it out. The VW wasn’t meant for transporting lots of crap, and I already had my computer equipment in the trunk. We piled the backseat with the bags we were donating, and I drove Jean-Jacques over to his place to drop them off. He said he was going to see his mother over the weekend and would deliver them to the thrift shop on his way.We’d just finished unloading the bags when my father called. “You have no knowledge of that money. You don’t know where it came from. Do you understand?”“Do I tell the FBI that Vlad gave me the lock?” I asked.“If they ask you directly. Don’t volunteer any information.”“How bad is this, Dad?”“Do you have any more secrets?”“Dad. This wasn’t a secret, it was ignorance.”“You’ve been ignorant of a lot o

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Latest chapter

  • Mi Amor   35: I'm Your Father

    I made arrangements to take the GMAT at a center back in Florida, then started considering business schools. The ones my father had suggested -- Columbia and Harvard -- were givens, though I didn’t have the kind of stellar grades you probably needed. A lot would depend on my scores. I pulled down the application for the University of Miami too as well as a couple of other schools in South Florida.By the time my parents came back from their event, I was prepared. After dinner, my father and I sat down in his study and I showed him the list of schools I was considering.He didn’t say anything about my use of his computer, though I did mention that I had done most of the research online. Score one for Adam.He added and subtracted schools until we had a group we were both happy with. “You’re going to have to do very well on your GMAT if you want to get into Harvard,” he said. “And you’re going to have to make your business sound like a lot more than just a way to spend your time in nigh

  • Mi Amor   34: Making Plans

    At dinner, we didn’t talk about my plans. Instead, I told G-rated stories about my life in Miami and heard about my father’s latest case and the fundraiser my mother was organizing for the local library. I waited until I was up in my room, surrounded by swim team trophies and posters of 1990s bands, to call Javier’s cell.I worried that he’d shift me directly to voice mail, that his confrontation with his parents had been too explosive. But he picked up on the first ring, though his voice was missing some of its purr. “Adam,” he said, and I noticed he hadn’t called me mi amor.“How are you?” I asked.“I’ve been better.”“I’m sorry about what happened last night. But you had to know you couldn’t have a life and keep it secret at the same time.”“Adam, I’m not like you. I don’t come from your world.”I wasn’t going to get into that. Instead I talked about being home, that my parents weren’t happy about the Vlad situation.“You should have known better,” Javier said.“Look, I’m getting e

  • Mi Amor   33: Time to Grow Up

    “Your mother and I aren’t comfortable with the track your career is taking,” he continued. I knew it wouldn’t do any good to protest, so I kept my mouth shut. “It’s time you stopped fooling around in Miami and made some sense out of your life. By the time I was your age, I was clerking for the chief justice of the Supreme Court of New Jersey. At your age, your grandfather had started his own law practice. And your great-grandfather, well, he came to this country with nothing, started shoveling horseshit, and ended up selling hay and feed to the top racetracks in the country.”Horseshit was one of my father’s favorite words, though usually it was used to denote how little he thought of something Richard or I said. “Your mother and I can’t sit back any longer and watch you waste your time. You need to train that intelligence of yours in the best way you can. It’s time you grew up and got yourself to law school.”My first reaction was horseshit. I am my father’s son, after all. But I did

  • Mi Amor   32: Home Again

    The drive out to Summit was quick, mostly on route 78, and soon I was motoring through the tree-lined streets of my childhood. They were just coming into leaf, and daffodils and crocuses sprouted in the manicured yards on our street. It was sunny and crisp, and I remembered how much I loved the springtime, which we get for about a week or two in Florida.I kept the key to my parents’ house on a stuffed-monkey key chain from a Kipling bag, and as I drew it from my pocket, my mother opened the front door. We gushed and hugged, and she led me inside.My mother is a brunette, though her hair is starting to streak with silver, and she refuses to dye it. Richard takes after her, while I look more like my father. I was okay with that; he was a damn handsome man, and I wouldn’t mind looking that good when I get to fifty. “Your father’s at the club,” my mother said. “He’ll be back soon. In the meantime, you and I can have a chat.”Here it comes, I thought. Good cop, bad cop. The standard paren

  • Mi Amor   31: Flying and Flirting

    I got to the Miami airport with plenty of time to spare before my flight, but by the time I had made it through the serpentine security line, I had to hurry to the gate. The best Margaret had been able to do was a middle seat at the back of the plane; my fellow passengers were returning snowbirds, partying college kids celebrating the last few hours of spring break, and a sprinkling of business types on their way to early meetings in the city the next day.It was an uncomfortable couple of hours, scrunched into the narrow seat, listening to people having fun all around me. I couldn’t concentrate on the mystery novel I had brought, about a gay detective in Honolulu, and I refused to think about Javier and worry about how things were going with his parents. I had my own family issues to deal with.The man in the window seat was a Sikh, with dark skin and a red turban. “You are going back to college from spring break?” he asked me.“You’re flattering me. I graduated from college a few ye

  • Mi Amor   30: Seeing Stars

    The Estrella del Mar was a three-story block of a building, with only the vaguest art deco details. A chain-link fence surrounded it, and a Dumpster took up much of the small front yard. A big sign proclaimed it was under renovation by Marisco Construction.Javier was lounging against the fence when I walked up to the building. He took my hand and pulled me toward him for a hug. “I’m glad to see you.”It felt so good to be in his arms. The tension of planning the show, and worrying about my father’s summons, drained out of me. “Mmm,” I said, nuzzling his cheek. “I missed you tonight.”He pulled back. “I want to show you what I’ve been working on.” He took my hand and opened the gate into the yard, then pulled it closed and slipped the padlock. “You have to be careful, mi amor,” he said, shining a flashlight ahead of us.The front door was gone, and we walked directly into the small lobby. “Four apartments on this level,” Javier said, shining the light from room to room. “And four on t

  • Mi Amor   29: Big Rod

    That night, back at the theater, I was nervous, and not just about the Vlad situation, the FBI situation, or whether or not I would break up with Javier. We’d nearly sold out the theater, and I hoped that the acts wouldn’t disappoint. Jean-Jacques and I hadn’t seen them all together; all we’d done was go over the order with them before the show, making sure they were all there and had all their props.Iona Trailer opened the show, dressed as Ginger Rogers, and sang “We’re in the Money,” against a video background of spinning coins and bills. Of course that made me think of Vlad, and that box of cash in the storage locker. What was he thinking of, hiding that money and not telling me? Of course, if he’d said something, I would have freaked out.I was so preoccupied with thinking about Vlad that I missed the stand-up comic’s act, and only realized when the two acrobats came on and the audience got quiet. Seeing them reminded me of Javier, and I wondered if we would ever have mind-blowin

  • Mi Amor   28: Chat with Dad

    Friday morning my phone rang at nine a.m. Of course it woke me; I hadn’t gotten to bed the night before until almost three, worrying and obsessing over my relationship with Javier. “Hello?” I mumbled.“I spoke with your mother last night,” my father said. “I think it’s time you and I had a chat about your future.”I sat bolt upright in bed. “Morning, Dad. Jean-Jacques and I checked our credit reports to be sure Vlad didn’t open any accounts in our name. We can’t think of anything else that might get us in trouble.”Lots of people believe that gay men have passive fathers and over-attentive mothers. There’s some theory that the lack of a strong male influence leads a guy to want that in a lover. And maybe for some guys it’s true. But in my case, there was no doubt my father was in charge.My great-grandfather was the oldest son of a minor count in rural Poland. The family lands were confiscated in the wake of World War I, so he emigrated to north Jersey, where he worked as a stable han

  • Mi Amor   27: Headache

    I told that to Richard. “You’re giving me a headache,” he said. “I’ll have to talk to dad about this. I’ll call you back.”Jean-Jacques and I stopped at the office and told the clerk we weren’t going to renew the lease on the unit, and that we’d emptied it out. The VW wasn’t meant for transporting lots of crap, and I already had my computer equipment in the trunk. We piled the backseat with the bags we were donating, and I drove Jean-Jacques over to his place to drop them off. He said he was going to see his mother over the weekend and would deliver them to the thrift shop on his way.We’d just finished unloading the bags when my father called. “You have no knowledge of that money. You don’t know where it came from. Do you understand?”“Do I tell the FBI that Vlad gave me the lock?” I asked.“If they ask you directly. Don’t volunteer any information.”“How bad is this, Dad?”“Do you have any more secrets?”“Dad. This wasn’t a secret, it was ignorance.”“You’ve been ignorant of a lot o

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