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Authors: Ryan Field

Tags: #Erotica, #Romance, #Fiction

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BOOK: Valley of the Dudes
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Esther lifted an eyebrow. “You’ll see for yourself soon enough. Trust me.” Then

 

she led Rush back to the reception area to see if Mr. Hasslet was free to see him. Five minutes later, Esther led Rush into Mr. Hasslet’s office and said, “Bart, this

 

is the new guy you just hired. He’s starting today.” Then she left Rush standing in front

 

of Mr. Hasslet’s desk and returned to the reception area.

 

Mr. Hasslet looked up from his desk, leaned forward, and squinted. He was short

 

and stocky and bald, with thick black eyeglasses and a chunky red nose. The top of his

 

head was shiny; the sides were slicked back with long strands of white hair. He picked up

 

a brown envelope from the desk and said, “Good morning, Mr. Goodwin. Here’s your

 

first assignment.”

 

“Good morning, Mr. Hasslet,” Rush said eagerly. Then he reached for the

 

envelope and took it from the old man’s hand without even asking what it was.

 

“You are to deliver this to Radcliff Benson at the Rainbow Theater,” Mr. Hasslet

 

said. “Take the stage door and go to the rehearsal studios, where they are getting ready to

 

open the new show,
Hope to the Heavens.
I want all the documents signed and brought

 

back to me immediately. Can you handle that?”

 

Rush raised his eyebrows and squared his shoulders. “Yes, Mr. Hasslet,” he said.

 

“I’ll leave right now and be back within the hour.” He couldn’t believe he’d only been

 

working there an hour and already he was being given an important assignment and

 

meeting a famous entertainer.

 

Mr. Hasslet looked down at his desk without formally dismissing him, but Rush

 

took the envelope and walked back to the reception area. On his way out of the reception

 

area, he held the envelope up and said to Esther, “Mr. Hasslet wants me to deliver this

 

right now to Radcliff Benson. I’ll be back within the hour.” He was so excited that he had

 

to concentrate hard so he wouldn’t walk into a wall. Esther laughed and said, “Good luck. You’re going to need it, kid.” Then she

 

lowered her head to her desk and said, “Mr. Hasslet, that’s just wrong.”

 

* * * *

 

Rush took a taxi to the Rainbow Theater, then walked back to the stage door

 

entrance. He approached a man at the door and said, “I’m here to deliver this to Mr.

 

Benson. My boss needs his signatures. It’s very important that I get them right now.” He

 

was on a mission and no one was going to stop him.

 

The guy at the door pointed to the left and said, “He’s in his dressing room. It’s

 

the end of the hall and his name is on the door.” Then the guy laughed and said, “I hope

 

you’re wearing a bulletproof vest.”

 

Rush blinked; that was easier than he’d expected it to be. He’d imagined that

 

celebrities like Radcliff Benson had security and people watching over them all the time.

 

And Rush had no idea what the guy was talking about when he mentioned a bulletproof

 

vest. Why on Earth would he need a bulletproof vest? He couldn’t wait to meet the

 

famous Broadway star, Radcliff Benson. He’d been a fan of Radcliff Benson all his life.

 

On the way back to Radcliff Benson’s dressing room, Rush passed by a rehearsal

 

hall. There was a group of dancers standing near a piano. They were listening to an

 

attractive young guy rehearse a song from Radcliff Benson’s new play. The play was a

 

revival of an old-time classic, like most Broadway shows. The singer had dark wavy hair,

 

a handsome face, and a voice so smooth and clear the entire room stopped to listen. Rush

 

peered into the room for a second, then continued walking back to Radcliff Benson’s

 

dressing room. He wanted to wait until the young guy was finished singing, but he wanted to get the papers signed and return them to the office as quickly as he could so

 

he’d make a good first impression on Mr. Hasslet.

 

But when Rush reached the dressing room, Radcliff Benson was shouting at who

 

appeared to be his manager while the talented young man in the rehearsal studio

 

continued to sing. Radcliff’s back faced the doorway and his arms flew back and forth.

 

When the talented young singer in the rehearsal hall hit a perfect high note, Radcliff

 

picked up a bottle of cologne and threw it across the dressing room. Radcliff’s manager

 

ducked and it sailed over his head and shattered against the wall, leaving a dark stain and

 

fractured glass all over the floor.

 

Radcliff turned around and leaned against his dressing room table. He glared at

 

Rush and shouted, “What the fuck do you want? Why are you staring at me like an

 

idiot?”

 

Rush blinked and said, “I’m a new attorney with Hasslet, Hasslet & Sharp. My

 

boss sent me here to get a few signatures from you.” His voice was low and easy, but his

 

knees wobbled. Radcliff was in his mid-forties now, and still as attractive as he’d always

 

been. His jet black hair was as thick and shiny as when he’d worked on his first soap

 

opera. His body was as tight and thin as when he’d been the star of a successful sitcom

 

back in the ’80s. The only thing that was different was his expression. His lips were

 

pressed together and his dark eyes pierced Rush with absolute hatred.

 

Radcliff hesitated for a moment, then asked Rush, “What do you think of that guy

 

singing right now?” Rush shrugged his shoulders and told the truth. “He’s fantastic. I think this will be

 

the best song in the show.”

 

Radcliff lifted a cocktail glass and took a hard swallow. He looked at his manager

 

and sneered. He pointed at Rush and shouted, “You tell that fat fuck Bart Hasslet that I’m

 

not signing anything until he gets rid of that showy little queen who is singing right now.

 

I want the little cocksucker gone by the end of the day.” He pointed to his chest and

 

shouted, “This is my fucking show and
I’ll
sing the best songs, not some little nobody.”

 

Radcliff’s manager shook his head. “This isn’t going to look good. How is

 

Hasslet going to get rid of him?”

 

“I don’t give a flying fuck,” Radcliff said. “That’s not my problem. I’m the star.”

 

Rush smiled. “But Mr. Hasslet said the papers were very important, Mr. Benson.”

 

Rush wanted this to go smoothly; he figured there might be a chance to reason with

 

Radcliff.

 

Radcliff clenched his teeth and reached for a small blow dryer on the dressing

 

room table. He picked up the blow dryer and threw it in Rush’s direction.

 

Rush ducked just in time. The dryer hit the wall behind him and split in half.

 

“Get the fuck out of here,” Radcliff shouted. “And don’t fucking come back until

 

the changes are made.” Though it was only nine in the morning, his voice was slurred and

 

fuzzy. As Rush turned to leave, Radcliff reached for a bottle of vodka, filled his cocktail

 

glass, and drank almost half with a few swallows.

 

Chapter Three

 

At the end of his first full day in his new position, Rush returned to his apartment

 

building with a stack of files that had to be re-organized and placed in electronic files. He

 

smiled and nodded at his new doorman, crossing through the lobby toward the elevator.

 

He could have left the files at the office and done them in the morning, but he wanted to

 

make a good impression by taking work home, especially since he hadn’t been able to get

 

signatures from Benson.

 

When he reached the elevator, he was surprised to see a familiar face staring at

 

the doors—the same attractive young guy Rush had heard singing at the Rainbow Theater

 

earlier that day. The guy was staring down at his brown boots, with his hands in his

 

pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet. He was wearing tight, low-rise jeans and a shiny

 

black leather jacket. His face was tight and his lips were pressed together; he wasn’t even

 

aware Rush was there.

 

Rush stepped up behind him and cleared his throat. When the guy didn’t turn

 

around to look at him, he cleared his throat again and said, “I hope you don’t mind my

 

saying so, but I heard you singing this morning and you were very good. I work for

 

Hasslet, Hasslet & Sharp, and I was delivering contracts this morning to Radcliff

 

Benson.”

 

The guy lifted his head and turned to face Rush. A shock of dark brown hair fell

 

across his forehead and he smiled. “Thank you,” he said in a smooth, deep voice. “Too

 

bad no one is ever going to hear me sing that song on Broadway. I got fired today, thanks

 

to that mean old queen, Radcliff Benson. Your boss and my agent, Bart Hasslet, was the one who got me fired, promising me he’d make up it to me with my next job. But I can’t

 

tell you how much I wanted that job. I was perfect for that song.”

 

Rush tilted his head and frowned. No one had mentioned to him that the guy had

 

been fired. But he remembered what Radcliff Benson had said that morning. Evidently,

 

Radcliff had had the young singer fired today, just after Rush had returned to the office

 

and handed Bart Hasslet the unsigned contracts. Rush knew he wasn’t responsible for the

 

guy getting fired, but he felt strangely associated with the situation because he’d been

 

there.

 

He wanted to explain. “Maybe I shouldn’t be this honest,” Rush said. “But I was

 

there this morning when you were rehearsing and Radcliff had a temper tantrum.

 

Actually, it was extremely pathetic to watch a man his age make such a fool of himself.

 

He’s very jealous of your talent. He almost knocked my eye out with a blow dryer and I

 

was only delivering contracts to him.”

 

The guy ran his palm through his dark hair and frowned. “Radcliff Benson is

 

nothing more than a washed-up old has-been. I’ll show him. One of these days I’ll pay

 

him back for this. I swear I will.” He clenched his fists and shook them up and down.

 

The elevator door opened and they stepped inside. Rush smiled and asked, “Do

 

you live here, in this building?”

 

“I’m on the third floor,” the guy mumbled, as he pressed the number three button

 

and the doors closed.

 

“I’m on the fourth,” Rush said, hitting number four. “I just moved in on Sunday.

 

It’s nice to meet you. My name is Rush Goodwin.” Then he extended his arm to shake

 

the guy’s hand. “I’m Cody Atkins,” he said, shaking Rush’s hand. “Are you an agent with Hasslet,

 

Hasslet & Sharp?”

 

“No yet,” Rush said. “I just started as a junior lawyer. I’m afraid I have a long

 

way to go and a lot to learn before I get any clients of my own. You’re a client?”

 

Cody frowned and rubbed his jaw. “I think I’m still a client. But I’m not sure after

 

today. Radcliff Benson and Bart Hasslet really put the screws to me. I didn’t deserve to

 

be treated that way. If it hadn’t been for Lance Sharp, I would be looking for another

 

agency right now. Lance spent the entire afternoon calming me down.”

 

The elevator stopped on the third floor and the door opened. Rush pressed the

 

hold button to keep the doors from closing and said, “I haven’t met Lance Sharp yet. I

 

was told he was out of the office all day working with a client.”

 

Cody laughed and shook his head. “Lance
was
out all day, and he was dealing

 

with me. He knew what Radcliff was doing and he wanted to smooth things over with me,

 

to make sure I wouldn’t leave the agency.”

 

“Did he smooth things over?” Rush asked. Cody seemed quirky and high-strung,

 

but there was an innocent quality about him Rush liked.

 

Cody shrugged his shoulders and said, “We’ll see. He got me a singing gig

 

tonight in a nightclub working with another one of his clients, Joey Delaney. Joey

 

Delaney and I are old friends.” He stepped toward the elevator door, then stopped. He

 

turned and said, “Why don’t you come down to the club with me tonight and watch the

 

show? My boyfriend, Roy, will be there. And Lance said he’d be there tonight, but you

 

never know with Lance. He tends to get distracted by his many boyfriends. He has a

 

stable of broken hearts. If Lance doesn’t show up, if you don’t mind, you can sit with my boyfriend, Roy. He hates sitting alone in these places. C’mon. You’ll have fun. We can

 

all go out afterwards and party.”

 

Rush smiled and shrugged his shoulders. This was exactly the type of new

 

experience Rush had been hoping to have in New York. If he’d still been with Harold in

 

New England, he would have been home watching his mother and his aunt knit socks and

 

read old novels. “I’d love to see the show. And of course I don’t mind sitting with Roy.

 

What time?”

 

“Meet me down in the lobby at seven,” Cody said. “I’ll be the one biting my nails

 

and holding my stomach. I tend to freak out before a performance.”

 

Then Cody stepped out of the elevator and Rush removed his finger from the hold
BOOK: Valley of the Dudes
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