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
I already had six bouquets of stargazer lilies in my shopping cart and was examining the seventh when I realized that this sexy Latin guy was cruising me. Though I am undeniably cute -- my friends kid me that I look like I just stepped out of an Abercrombie and Fitch ad -- it’s not me; it’s the Publix. When they built this new grocery in a funny corner of South Beach, it became cruise central. And no, I don’t mean those big ocean liners, though you can see them a few blocks away.I looked up, and he was standing right by my wagon, sniffing. When he saw me looking at him, he got all embarrassed and said, “Sorry, they just smell so luscious.” He had the slightest Spanish accent and a baritone voice that made me go all mushy inside.He wore a dark green Ralph Lauren polo shirt that showed off his deep tan; faded, butt-molded jeans; and scuffed cowboy boots. Even though I was in the middle of a crisis -- finding bunches of lilies for a party my client was holding in less than two hours --
After saying good-bye to Vlad and the developer, giving Jean-Jacques directions, and air-kissing a dozen women with big boobs, puffy lips, and flat skin --none of it part of the original package -- I slipped off to the men’s room in the sales trailer for a quick evaluation.I’d been on the go since noon, with only a mad dash home between Publix and the party for a quick change into tuxedo and patent leather loafers. Fortunately, my industrial-strength hair gel had kept every delicate blond lock in place, though I was starting to get some nine-o’clock shadow. I was just peering in the mirror trying to assess the situation when the door swung open, and Javier Marisco walked in.“Don’t change a thing for me,” he said.I spun around, embarrassed to be caught at my toilette, and he stepped right up and kissed me.Such a simple word, kissed. It doesn’t do justice to what happened between Javier and me. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body close to his. His cologne smelled of cit
He smiled that beautiful pearly smile, and I gave him one in return. He scooted over close to me, and I rested my head against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around me and kissed the top of my head.“I’ve seen you before,” he admitted. “A few times at parties. You’re always the center of attention.”“I wish you’d have said hello.”“Not me. I’m shy.”I laughed out loud. “You grabbed me in the men’s room at the Balinese trailer and kissed me like your life depended on it. That’s not shy.”“But we’d already spoken. At the Publix and at the party. I knew you were interested.”His right hand -- attached to the arm that was wrapped around my back -- began tickling my right nipple. At first just the very tip of his index finger grazed the nub; then he increased the pressure, and I responded. Then his left hand did the same with my left nipple. When both were tough little buds, I twisted out of his grasp and turned to face him.We kissed again, lying there on the plush white carpet, our clot
I woke to Javier leaning above me, fully dressed, kissing my forehead. “What time is it?” I groaned.“Just after seven. Go back to sleep, mi amor. When you’re ready to leave, just ring for the elevator.”He kissed my lips, gently, and then he was gone. His bed was so soft, it felt like I was sleeping on clouds. I turned onto my side, clutched one of the fluffy pillows, and fell right back to sleep.I awoke again just before noon. For a moment, I was disoriented. My apartment wasn’t that bright in the morning, and my bed wasn’t nearly as comfortable. Where was I?Then it all came back to me. My nipples and my ass were still sore and I had morning wood, but I couldn’t remember having been fucked so well in a long time. I stretched lazily and yawned, then stumbled into the bathroom. It was like a hotel, all marble and glass, with a rain showerhead, a towel warmer, and a wicker basket filled with tiny soaps and lotions on the vanity.I went back through the night in my head. I had been wi
The next morning, I called the number on Vlad’s card and set up a meeting. I wore a pair of Valentino slacks that hugged my ass and an Armani button-down shirt that left little to the imagination. “Mr. Solonenko,” I said, shaking his big, square hand. I held on for just a moment longer than necessary, making eye contact. “It’s so nice of you to agree to talk to me.”“Pleasure is mine.” He licked his lips, and I felt like Little Red Riding Hood meeting the wolf. But I’d met a few wolves before, and I knew how to handle them. “Please, have seat,” he said, motioning me to a big leather armchair across from his desk. “So, who is Adam Beller?”I sat back and crossed my legs. “I’m going to be the best-known party planner on the Beach. Within, say, six months or so.”Vlad raised his eyebrows. “Really?”I went into a quick spiel about my experience in college. My hand found its way to my neck. “It’s hot in here. Do you mind if I…”I unbuttoned the second button of my shirt, then the third. Vl
I walked out to Lincoln Road toting the six-pack of premium martinis, still processing everything. I went right to the Ghirardelli Café, ordered a massive dark chocolate raspberry shake with vanilla ice cream, and pulled out my cell phone to summon Jean-Jacques.Jean-Jacques and I met at that first party at the Palms, where I noticed him lounging next to the bar as I was unpacking 1.75 liter magnums of Vladi Vodka for the bartender. He is still skinny as a rail, and that night he wore a skin-tight white silk tank top with a low-scooped neck and white short-shorts that highlighted his coffee complexion.It was about as close to naked as you could get and still be dressed. I looked him up and down and liked what I saw. He reminded me of one of my college boyfriends -- a chocolate-colored alto with the glee club who sang to me in bed. Though we’d broken up after a couple of months, I still remembered him fondly.I flirted with Jean-Jacques as I worked. “I judge the quality of a club by t
My cell phone rang, but I didn’t recognize the number. “Adam Beller, Beller Beach,” I said. I’d chosen Beller Beach as the name for my business -- but I might have to rethink that, if I was going national.“Mi amor. I’m thinking of you.” A voice purred, low and sensual. It sent shivers through my body, right to my groin.I turned to Jean-Jacques and pointed wildly at the phone. He grabbed my arm and listened in. “Hey there, handsome,” I said.“You sleep all right?” he asked.“Mmm. I always do, after great sex.”“I’ve been yawning all day,” he said. “If we keep seeing each other, I’m going to have to start taking vitamins.”“Gee, I didn’t realize you were a senior citizen. I can fuck like that and then be ready for more the next day.”Jean-Jacques squeezed my arm.“I want to test that theory,” Javier said. “Dinner tonight?”I almost agreed without thinking, but fortunately I caught myself. I couldn’t see him again so quickly. I needed a couple of days away from him to forget how amazin
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
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
“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
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
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
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
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
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
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