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He hadn't seen me before my hasty departure, but I still feared hearing his voice behind me. When a voice did come, it was a lower, more familiar one.

“Luke, what's wrong?” Richard's warm hand rubbed my back.

I straightened and glared at him. Anger shook my body without my consent. “What is he doing here?”

“Who?” He reached for me.

I shoved his hand away. “My father! He's in the goddamn living room.”

“Johnathan Moore? The senator? He's your father?”

I slumped to the bench.

Richard landed with a thud beside me. “I didn't know. You didn't say. Doug came up with a list of investors. If I'd known— ”

“This isn't your fault. I should have told you who he was before now.”

Richard stood. “He's not staying.” He made a move for the door.

“Wait. I don't want you to make a scene. This is your business.”

He came back and sat next to me. “I'll never do business with him. Ever.”

“I know.” I gave him a halfhearted smile. “But there are other people here you need to work with. Let me talk to him. Ask him to leave. He knows I live here. He isn't sincere about working with you. He's up to something.”

Richard stood and folded his arms in front of him. “No way. I'm not letting you deal with this on your own.”

“I need to do this. You're here with me. And... and it's making me nervous Matthew's up there all alone.”

Richard eyed the door, ready to sprint up the stairs. “Are you sure?”

I stood. “He came to scare me into doing what he wants. I want to be the one to tell him to get the fuck out. This is my home, and I want him out.”

“All right. Let's get this done.”

Financial discussions continued throughout the house. Richard had already pitched his plans to everyone in the room, and the viability of the investment options took priority over politics, sports, or entertainment news.

I made my way through the crowd. My parents stood by the fireplace talking to Joseph and Margaret Mason. I couldn't take my eyes off my mother. She was older, but as beautiful and soft as I remembered her from my teen years. It amazed me she could be so much his ally and still look the part of a loving, mild-mannered woman. How had my father turned her against me? Kept her hating me for fifteen years?

“Is everything okay?” Matthew asked. “Where'd you go?”

Richard stepped beside me. “Luke's father's here.”

“What? Here?”

“His father is Senator Johnathan Moore. Luke is going to ask him to leave.”

“The one who's going to run for president?”

“That's him,” I said.

The man in question turned toward me. His expression hardened, but he recovered quickly and spoke with a smile to the Masons. He gave the couple a nod and stepped toward me. I didn't let him cover the distance between us. I matched his stride and met him in the middle of the room.

“There you are.” He hissed the words in a near whisper. “I wondered when you'd show your face.”

“You're leaving. I know you don't want a scene any more than I do.”

He forged a socially acceptable smile that divulged the truth of my statement. “I came to bring you a message. One of those... whatever... you live with was kind enough to invite me.” He offered a frown over my shoulder.

I glanced back. Richard and Matthew stood behind me. Both sets of eyes were upon us. No one could miss Richard's strong, dominating presence. “He's my partner, Dad. His name is Richard Marshall, and if you treat him with anything less than respect, I'll make a scene you'll find most unpleasant.”

I caught a brief look of panic before he covered it with his professional mask. “Let's move this to a more private location, shall we? I have something to say, and I won't be leaving until I've said it.”

I scoffed. “Fine.” I led the way to Richard's office.

Matthew and Richard entered after us and stood along the back wall behind my father. I shut the door and made no attempt to ask either of them to leave.

“I will not have this discussion in front of
them
.” His gaze swung between my lovers and me. We had situated ourselves well. He liked to be in the position of power in any room. Forcing him to look back and forth between us would make him edgy, nervous.

I stood behind the large desk with my arms folded. “You will. Or we can go back out to the other room and have it in front of everyone.”

He glared at me a moment more, then squared his shoulders.

A quiet knock interrupted our silent stare. I threw my hands up, stalked to the door, and flung it open.

My mother peered into the room.

“You might as well come in too.”

She crept to my father's side. “What is going on, Johnathan? You didn't seem surprised to see Luke here.” She looked to me. “Is this where you're living?”

“Yes.” I pointed to Richard and Matthew. “These are my partners.” I left out their names. The moment didn't require a social introduction, but she needed to understand the situation more so than her husband had allowed her to do.

“Oh. I... ” She glanced at them. Matthew's gaze met the floor, but Richard didn't withdraw. He crossed his large arms in front of him. His face held a look of fierce determination. She turned back to her husband. “What is going on?”

“I was graciously invited to this party, and I thought I'd take the opportunity to give Luke one more chance to be a man.”

I didn't need to see the flinch in Richard's body to know he wanted to confront the man, make a move.

I spoke before he could do either. “If you're asking for the same things you did the other night on the phone, then forget it. I'm not going to the club anymore, but for reasons that are none of your business. I will not give up my membership because you demand it. I'm not giving them up. I've given you every assurance I can. I will not talk to the press. I will not accept any interviews. That's all I can offer you.”

“That's not enough.” He released the words in a fiery spat. “I should have expected nothing less from you. It was bad enough you were a gay man. We might have been able to spin that. Then you go to that club. You fuck anyone who walks by you so long as he has a dick in his pants. Now you are what? I don't even know what to call this thing you're doing.” He gestured to Richard and Matthew. “Living with and fucking two men at the same time. You are beyond disgusting.”

I strode across the room until we stood a foot apart. My mother stepped aside, swiping at her tears with the back of her hand.

My father didn't move, but he did flinch. I took satisfaction in it.

“It's a relationship. It's hard enough being two people in a relationship. Hell, it's hard enough trusting enough to be in a relationship at all. A gay relationship is even harder with people like you fighting against us. There's nothing easy about three people together. It's a hell of a lot of hard work. But with them"— I looked to Matthew and Richard—"it's worth it.” I met my father's stare. “So fuck you. I've had enough. You will not come in here and speak to me like this. You will not disrespect me. You will not disrespect them. I want you to get the hell out and leave me alone.”

My father's mouth gaped open, an expression I'd never seen on the polished man. My mother tugged at his arm. Her face was covered in tears, too many for her to catch.

Richard came to me. He wrapped his arm around my waist and whispered in my ear. “I'm proud of you.”

I smiled at the words and the closeness of his body to mine.

My father rolled his eyes and snorted. When he turned back to us, his stare was cold and more calculating than it'd been a moment before. “Would you be proud of him if you knew what he's cost you? What he'll keep costing you if you don't stop this?”

My hands wrenched into fists until my fingers numbed. “What are you talking about?”

My father let a grin build. He took a step closer to Richard. “The lakefront properties you were interested in. I had a good friend of mine make a generous offer. And every deal you've attempted since then hasn't gone well, has it? And every one you try to make from now on will always be met with resistance. It won't matter how many parties you throw or how many calls you make. No one will work with you. My influence reaches far and wide. Don't fuck with me.”

“Johnathan, stop. Please.” My mother's voice cracked. She shrank back from her husband. Her eyes darted around the room— to me, to my father, to Richard and Matthew. She spun on her heels and fled the office.

My father glared at me a moment longer. Then he walked out the door.

I turned away and stared out the window into the night sky.

Richard wrapped his arms around me and pulled my back to his chest. “This isn't your fault. I don't care what he threatens us with.” He kissed my temple. “Stay in here. Matthew and I'll go out and wind this party down. Then we'll talk.”

I managed a nod and didn't move as they left the room. I stood at the window and willed my mind to think of nothing until they could return to me. For once, I wanted to talk to them. I needed to.

The office door opened. I waited for their arms to surround me. When they didn't come, I turned.

Walter stood on the other side of the desk, a glass of whiskey in his hand. “Is everything all right?”

“No.” Talking must be like diarrhea. Once you get started, you can't turn it off. No matter where. No matter when.

Walter downed a swig of his whiskey and sat across from me. “From the moment I met him, I knew he'd cause trouble for you one day. He's too ambitious not to try and control everything around him.”

I lost the ability to stand. My ass hit the chair behind Richard's desk. “You've met my father?”

“When you first told me he was having you followed, I decided to find out why.”

“Because he wants me to live the way he tells me to.”

“It's more than that. And I think you know it.”

“Do I want to hear this?”

“Probably not. But you need to.”

I scanned the room. A stapler sat to the right of Richard's phone. I reached for it and turned it over and over in my hands. The top came loose. I lifted it up and stared at the unused line of staples. Small, neat, orderly. Such insignificant things. Where would the offices of the world be without them? People made their livings in factories that produced and shipped staples. The small metal clips paid mortgages and electric bills and college educations. Entire lives revolved around the tiny shreds of wire. Irony carved a notch in my mind.

We give little thought to the world around us unless we force ourselves to see it. The smallest detail has an entire story behind it.

I snapped the stapler shut, returned it to the desk, and collapsed back against the chair. “Okay, tell me.”

He knocked back the rest of his whiskey. “You want me to get you a drink first?”

I nodded.

He made a move to get up.

“Wait. I can't. Matthew... he... I can't.”

Walter dropped into the chair. “You're in love.”

I stared at him.

“That'll anger your father. It'll make matters worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“Men like him never know love or compassion. And they hate others who do. All that matters is getting what they think they deserve.”

“He's fucking with Richard's business. Because of me. Because he sees me as a threat to his future.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Luke. Even if you weren't living here in a committed relationship, you have a right to live your life how you want. Maybe you should consider talking to the press. Tell how he's been harassing you. Get it all out in the open. Then he can't hold it over you anymore. He won't have a reason to threaten you.”

“No, he'll hate me for destroying him.”

“I'm afraid he already does. You lost your father a long time ago.”

“I know. It doesn't hurt like it used to. I want to be rid of him. But he thinks my life matters in terms of his future. I don't think I'll ever be free of him or his ambitions.”

“You might be right.”

I studied Walter's face. “What did you find out about him?”

The office door opened. Walter gave a quick nod to Matthew and Richard.

Matthew stepped toward me, but Richard reached out and stopped him. “We'll give you two a few minutes.”

“Stay,” Walter said. “You need to hear this too.”

Walter leaned back in the chair. “It's not exactly legal, but I installed surveillance equipment at his office. I figured I'd find out his true motives where you were concerned or, at the least, I'd find something you could use against him. It didn't take long. Every Friday night a man named Barry Fowler arranges for a prostitute to meet your father in his office.” Walter stared into the empty glass in his hand. Did he want to say the rest? Did I want to hear it?

Finally, he set the glass on the desk and said, “It's always a different person, but it's always a man.”

I couldn't focus on anything. Not Walter. Not Richard. Not Matthew.

I spotted the stapler on the desk and burst into laughter. The vibrations in my chest released a dam and kept my body from seizing under the enormous pressure. I slapped both hands on the desk. My palms stung. I kept laughing. Tears formed at the corners of my eyes.

My entire life with my father sped through my mind. Short snippets of conversations and arguments and the moment he'd taken Tim from me replayed in a mix of unorganized insight. I laughed harder. “Does he suck their cocks? Does he fuck them? Or do they fuck him?” The laugh bellowed out of me. I smacked my hands on the desk again. “No, no. I don't want to know that. God, do I?” I looked up. Richard and Matthew stared at me, eyes wide, brows drawn in close, deep worry lines visible from across the room. I sounded mad, crazed. I knew it.

The laugh slowed and then tapered off after a few more uncontrollable spurts. I met Richard's stare.

I took a deep breath and nodded.

“Go on, Walter,” Richard said. “Say the rest.”

“Right. This isn't a new development. When you're at his level, paying for sex is a hard thing to hide. He's working so hard to control your actions, but it doesn't seem like he can control his own. Although, he tries. The rent boys stop for a few months at a time, but it always starts up again.” Walter moved to stand beside my chair. “He hates you for being what he can't. I think he's afraid you'll find out and use it against him.”