Lexington Black (16 page)

After a shower, he sat down at the desk. He
had no idea how big the book was going to be. The idea was to just
write the damned thing and worry later about the size of it.

His supposedly fictional protagonist was a
man in his early forties, a successful man with a wife and two
young children, who embarked on a hazardous affair with another
man. On the way to exploring his new sexuality he had encounters
with queens, other desperados, beautiful young men. He did not
describe the graphic sex, but the yearning eroticism of each
assignation, the emptiness he felt when it was not what he was
looking for. In his mind was the hazy memory of a boy he had met
once, who had then disappeared, taking his heart with him. It was
the drama as the connection binding him to his wife and children
thinned to breaking point, and the realisation of each child that
their father was evaporating into a stranger who had no part in
their lives.

So yes, it was based upon his own family, and
the life he imagined for his own father. He was filling in the
gaps, making him real if not entirely accurate. He was making him a
vulnerable man, a trapped man, a man who wanted to find his
sanctuary. In Rob's story, he would find it. In real life, he was
less than lucky.

What had it taken to drink a lethal cocktail
of cyanide-laced cognac, without saying goodbye to one's family?
Rob would never know, so in his story, things would be different.
How, he did not know yet, but if in some small way, he gained
closure from his father's death, then he would do it.

After talking to Rob for the final time, I
boarded the jet and flew to Miami. I didn't think I would ever stop
enjoying executive travel. The discreet attentions of the cabin
crew, the ultra-comfortable seats, the knowledge that the
Gulfstream was always fuelled and waiting, I loved it all.

But not that morning. I knew my temper was
foul as I took my seat, waving away my usual black coffee and
freshly-made pastries and choosing instead to stare moodily out of
the window, watching Manhattan and my English angel recede from
view. I couldn't wipe away the vision he had left me with, of him
lying sprawled in bed, touching himself, thinking of me. It
frustrated the hell out of me, and the frustration just grew the
further I travelled away from him.

To console myself I called my housekeeper to
check that preparations for the pool party were underway. I never
went all out. A few friends, some attractive male waiters and
pretty boys to dance attendance on my guests, a cocktail bar,
excellent food, nothing wild or showy like some of my other gay
friends. I let the New York skyline provide the backdrop, and the
infinity pool was another form of amusement. That way, everyone
could strip off and lose their inhibitions.

I had invited Justin Blakely, a prominent
architect of modernist office buildings, because I thought he was a
perfect match for Caressa. I had been trying to get them together
for months, but their schedules were hectic and it hadn't been
possible. Now Rob was in the picture as well, it promised to be a
great evening. The thought of showing him off and watching him
cavort in my pool, wearing hipster swimming trunks, cheered me
somewhat. I sent Caressa a text, telling her to take Rob shopping
for something to wear at the party, the more tight-fitting the
better.

At the private hospital where Dad was being
nursed, he looked frail in his hospital bed. It was an effort to
summon up even the remotest bit of sympathy for him.

'What the hell happened?' I snapped at the
doctor as soon as I saw him.

He looked nervous, as well he might. 'Mr.
Black fell. He needed ten stitches in his head from where he struck
the coffee table.'

'Where was his nurse?'

'In the bath. She had put him to bed and when
she checked on him, he was asleep.'

'So he was sleep-walking?'

'No. He told us later he was thirsty.'

'So why the hell didn't he ring for her?'

'Sir, a full enquiry into how it happened is
continuing as we speak. The nurse has been suspended until further
notice. Believe me, this is very regrettable.'

'You're damned right it is,' I snapped. 'Take
me to him.'

Before I went into his room, I took a deep
breath. Kicking off at my father would not help matters, and just
made me look like an asshole.

'He looks settled enough,' I said grudgingly
to the doctor, and I sensed his relief.

'Oh, he's in fighting form,' he said, smiling
tentatively.

'That's what I was afraid of,' I replied
sourly as I opened the door.

If my father's body was crumbling around him,
his attitude sure as hell was not.

'Come to make sure I'm dying, have you? Well,
I'm not, no thanks to that stupid girl. I only wanted a drink of
water and look where it got me.'

I refused to rise to his jibe. 'You look fine
now, though. A little banged up, that's all. How did you do
it?'

'I was walking to the kitchen and found
myself in hospital. I'll be out in two days. No big deal. Have you
bankrupted my company yet?'

'Trying to. I've just signed a deal for the
Eaves Group.'

'Who? Never heard of them.'

'They're an English company. Not very big. It
was a snip.'

'Huh. You shouldn't waste your time with
nobodies, Lexington.'

'I had my reasons.'

'How much did you pay for them?'

I told him. I fielded the questions he fired
from his hospital bed as a nurse replaced his saline drip. I had
long given up trying to please him. Now I ran the company as I saw
fit and it was very profitable, thanks for fucking nothing. He
complained constantly about the decisions I made, and never once
told me I was doing the right thing.

'Next time, get me a nurse who knows what
she's doing,' he grumbled. 'And preferably one who's a bit easier
on the eye. The last one looked like a warthog.'

I sighed impatiently. 'Yeah, or maybe I'll
just put you in an old peoples' rest home like ordinary people do,
Dad. You can suck face with Dolly Dementia under the mistletoe next
Christmas, if you last that long.'

For the first time, I saw a flicker of hurt
in his eyes. 'Jesus, son. What the hell is wrong with you?'

'You only ever call me son when you want
something, Dad. Work it out yourself.'

Silence fell between us. I paced the room,
really not wanting to be there. When I looked back at him, he was
staring at the wall. A single tear glistened on his cheek. At once,
I felt like a complete heel. If Rob had been there, he would have
been disgusted with me as well, I was sure of it.

I sat next to the bed. 'I won't put you in a
home, Dad, don't worry. And I'll get a nurse who looks like Claudia
Schiffer to look after you, if that's what you want.'

I received a faint smile. 'I'd prefer
Elizabeth Taylor. From A Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, if you can fix
that. Or Sophia Loren.'

'I'll see what I can do.'

'Who is she?'

A stab of alarm went through me. 'She's a
film actress, Dad. One of your favourites, remember?'

His eyes flashed. 'No, you asshole. I mean,
who's the girl you're in love with? I know you're in love because
your mood is even worse than usual.'

Deep breaths. Don't lose it.
'Dad, you
know I'm gay so deal with it. His name is Rob and he's English.
He's come over for a visit.'

'So where is he?'

'He's working on a book.' I didn't say he
hadn't been asked to come because I was afraid of Dad mentioning
Melville Hall, which would have been akin to sinking the Titanic
before it had even left the dock.

My father nodded sagely and didn't ask any
more. He didn't want to know.

'Better get onto the agency and find me a
pretty young nurse,' he said. 'One that knows the job,
preferably.'

I stood up, relieved to be dismissed. 'Will
do. I'll see you later.' For the first time ever, I kissed his
withered cheek before I left.

The doctor was waiting for me as I left the
room. 'Mr. Black has expressed a wish to move back to Manhattan. He
has an apartment there, is that right?

'Yes. I'm living in it.'

'Right.' The doctor paused. 'Is that a
possibility?'

Any soft and fuzzy feelings I had begun to
cultivate towards my father fizzled like a damp firework. One thing
I was not prepared to do under any circumstances was live under the
same roof with a miserable old bastard who needed his ass wiping
every five minutes.

Callous? Yeah, I guess. But so had he been in
the past, willfully refusing to accept my homosexuality even after
I dropped everything in California to run the damned company for
him. I had been happy on the beach, teaching kids how to respect
the water and fucking tanned, blond surfer dudes. I had been happy
as a fucking rabbit, until he screwed it all up.

Now he had done it again, just as I had
managed to get Rob over to Manhattan. He was waiting, with his hot,
tight ass and sexy, come-fuck-me glasses on, and I was down in
Miami, frigging around for a man who steadfastly refused to accept
me as I am. To have him living with me, even with full-time staff
to look after him, would seriously cramp my style. I would end up
killing him within the week.

'I'll see what I can arrange,' I said
stiffly.

He was family, after all.

******

After Lex left him, Rob did not stop working
until late lunchtime. Fortified with a snack of onion bagel with
cream cheese and gravadlax, his new food passion, he went out
exploring. The sky was a dazzling blue and the sun scorched through
the windows. It was too glorious a day to be inside all the
time.

He was jubilant at how much he had achieved
even in a few hours, but it had also been emotionally draining.
Eager to escape the apartment, he packed a computer bag with his
new laptop and phone, and went out to explore. The heat was
intense, smacking him in the face after the cool interior of the
apartment, so after an hour of walking around, he went to the
Empire State Building, mainly to take advantage of the air
conditioning.

High above the city, the heat haze blurred
the distant horizon. He took a photo and emailed it to Geri, then
just stood and admired the view for a while before returning to
street level where the humidity had hit 100%. Everyone in the
street was hot, sweaty and irritable. He called Ty, who arrived
outside the building within five minutes, and asked him to drive to
the Flatiron Building so he could send another picture to Geri.
Afterwards they drove down to Battery Park to look at the 9/11
Memorial, and Ty suggested he could take Rob on a helicopter flight
to get a bird's eye view of the city.

At a private helipad by the water's edge, the
big man squeezed himself into the flying seat of the dainty
helicopter. After initial doubts that they might not get off the
ground, Rob enjoyed himself immensely. They circled the Statue of
Liberty, flew down the Hudson and circumnavigated Manhattan Island,
deftly avoiding the other tourist birds and keeping well out of the
airspace of the lumbering jets arriving and departing from the
city's three airports. Whenever Ty pointed, Rob took photos. There
was no conversation between them other than hand signals as the
machine was phenomenally loud even with headphones.

In the end, they alighted on the helipad at
the very top of Black Tower. Rob gratefully took off the headphones
as they were tight and his ears were ringing.

'Thank you. That was fantastic.'

'The pleasure's all mine, sir.' Ty's somber
face did not crack a smile as he shook Rob's hand. It was
impossible to tell what he was thinking behind his black
Ray-Bans.

Rob went back down to his apartment and
downloaded the photographs he had taken, sending most of them to
Geri. As he was contemplating what to do with his evening, his
doorbell rang.

He felt a leap of anticipation. Maybe Lex had
returned already? Not from Miami, although he wasn't sure how long
it took to get there. Maybe he didn't go after all. He opened the
door.

'Surprise!' Caressa crowed. Behind her, two
equally colourful queens cooed and waved at him. 'Lex called me,
darling. He told me I had to look after you. So come on.' Caressa
briskly clapped her hands before chivvying him out the door. 'And
you're not going to fall asleep. He does that,' she said to her
friends. 'He's a regular sleeping beauty.'

'Aw, poor boy.' A pneumatic blond with fake
Dolly Parton breasts snuggled against him and kissed his cheek.

'So what's the plan?' Rob looked at them, all
taller than he was due to their towering heels, and with enough
make-up on to smother the planet.

Caressa looked critically at him. 'Well, we
were thinking of going clubbing later, but we're certainly not
taking you wearing that.'

Rob looked down at his jeans and old
Motorhead tee-shirt. 'What's wrong with it?'

Caressa turned to her companions. 'I told you
we'd have a challenge, didn't I?'

She swept down the hallway before Rob could
ask what he meant.

Half an hour later, he was lying on a couch,
cringing as Ruby shaved the sparse hairs from his balls. They were
being avidly watched by the gaggle of drag queens.

'Is this really necessary?'

'Totally necessary, darling.' Caressa held
court from a nearby stool. She sat cross-legged, idling filing her
nails. 'It's why I asked Ruby to come along. This is her kingdom.'
She motioned around the salon. Outside the warm, perfumed room they
were crowded into, people sat in chairs being tended to by
fast-working hairdressers. There was an air of vibrant, colourful
chaos, accompanied by thumping bass. Ruby presided over her
employees with a silk-clad iron fist.

'Don't worry, darling. I've been doing this
for twenty years,' Ruby cooed. 'Twenty years of ball sacs and hairy
cracks, and I still haven't seen light at the end of the
tunnel.'