You Are the Reason (31 page)

“Dave, this is my sister, Madeleine,” she said with a brief gesture of her hand. I immediately noticed that Madeleine had the same bright hair as Charlotte and Lee. It was obviously a family trait. Madeleine smiled softly, as if unsure about me. Or maybe she just lacked interest. Charlotte went on with the next introduction. “And this is Tonia.” The second woman was somewhat younger than Charlotte, but her gaze was friendly.

“Pleased to meet you both,” I said and briefly shook hands.

Charlotte gestured to a man in his fifties who was pouring wine at an outdoor bar. “Tonia is married to Barry over there.” Barry waved. “Barry is one of Howard’s managers.”

I smiled, nodded at Barry, and hoped that Lee would appear really, really soon and rescue me. Howard came forward and shook my hand. He drew me away from the ladies.

“Davo, come meet the rest of the guys,” he said. There were three more men gathered around the barbecue. I fixed my smile in place and hoped it wouldn’t be too painful.

The first man was introduced as Teddy Banks—the original founder of Bannan Steel. I remembered seeing a couple of pictures of him, but the pictures must’ve been twenty years old because this man only bore a slight resemblance to them. His hair was white, and he’d gained weight. I smiled and shook his hand, trotting out the oft used “Pleased to meet you” as a sentence opener.

Then Howard turned to the second man at the barbecue, and I froze in awkward recognition.

“Dave, this is—”

I finished his introduction for him. “Martin Summers. Good to see you again.”

In the past three weeks, I’d had two lukewarm meetings with Martin Summers. He was a manager of several Bannan Steel mines, and I had been hoping that I could swing a couple of contracts for Everett Manufacturing. Lou Jackson had some contacts with other managers, but I had been hoping to build a relationship with Martin. He hadn’t been negative, but he hadn’t been positive either. The simple fact that Australian manufacturing costs were higher than overseas-made items had bogged me down. I had shown Martin our quality product and mentioned things such as on-site service, maintenance, and customer care, but my sales pitch hadn’t made much of a dent.

Now his boss was introducing us. Superlatively awkward, perhaps?

“Dave,” he responded, with a reasonably friendly manner, but his tone was puzzled as well.

“You know each other?” Howard asked.

I shrugged. “On a professional basis. I’ve been trying to convince Martin to buy Everett Manufacturing products, but….” I let the words hang with a you-win-some-you-lose-some shrug. Business was business, and I wasn’t upset.

“I didn’t realize you knew Howard,” Martin said.

Oh, how would this one go over?

I hesitated, and Howard jumped in, showing me that he wasn’t embarrassed about his gay son, and that Lee’s orientation was well known among the group. “Dave and Lee are dating.”

I saw the surprise on Martin’s face as he said, “Oh.” Then he turned the tables of surprise back on me. “So you’re the Dave that Lee’s been raving about. Small, small world.”

I was left wondering just
what
Lee had said about me. Martin smiled and said, “Then you need to come and meet my partner, Rand. I know he’s dying to meet Lee’s new man.”

Wait. Partner? As in…?

Yes. Rand stood up. He had that metrosexual look about him. And the obvious joy on his face when Martin introduced me as “Lee’s Dave” told its own story. Martin appeared to be in his late forties, yet Rand was my age. His rather wild long-sleeved shirt was buttoned to the collar, and a knitted vest in brown placed over the top. He had a full beard that was shaped to within millimeters of where he wanted it, his hair was set with some sort of sculpting gel, and to complete the look, he had thick-framed black glasses. I could see how he’d get on well with Lee.

Martin introduced us, and we spoke about Lee and our plans for the day. Then Martin asked me, “So why didn’t you tell me you were dating Howard’s son when we had our first meeting?”

One of the problems with people who worked in sales is that they should always be on the lookout for an opportunity to sell. Sales is not a nine-to-five job. I pulled out my sales pitch.

“Everett Manufacturing sells the best sheet metal in the business. And we back that up with customer service that’s second to none. Who I date and who I know shouldn’t matter. I know that doesn’t always work in the real world,” I conceded. “But for me to come to a meeting with the tenuous connection of dating the boss’s son, it puts you in a position of pressure. I want you to allow Everett to bid for the contract because we’re the best, not because you think you may get a promotion.”

Martin looked at me with a face like rock—as if he was trying to see through the bullshit. “Did you pick me to pitch to because I’m gay? Is this some sort of brothers-in-arms, we-should-stick-together thing?”

I laughed with genuine amusement at that. “Hardly. Especially since I didn’t know until this moment you were gay, and that when I made the initial meeting with you, my boss didn’t know that I was gay either. No. It was simply that you were the contact, and I happened to be someone in need of a contract.”

“Your boss didn’t know
then
?” Rand asked. “As in he knows now?”

There was a self-conscious snort that came from my mouth. “Yeah. I had a bit of a moment in my office the other day.”

I received sympathetic looks from all.

“Is it okay now, though?” Rand asked.

I considered the question, since I hadn’t really thought about the situation. “I think so. My manager’s fine with it. That’s for sure. There’s been a few comments from the workshop, and I know there’s one or two guys who are now ignoring and avoiding me, but on a whole, it’s pretty good.”

“Did Lee cause it?” Rand looked concerned on my behalf.

“No,” I assured him. “It wasn’t like I was hiding it. It simply never came up before two weeks ago when some idiot started having a go at me. I have no reason to be ashamed of Lee.”

That seemed to be my new motto. I wondered what Mum would think if I painted it across my bedroom wall.

Talk turned to manufacturing products, and we were deep in conversation about pipe shoes when Lee finally turned up. The ladies had retired to the other side of the patio area to allow us “gentlemen” to talk shop. The first I knew of Lee was when he came up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders.

I looked up with a tender smile and a soft “Hey.” Then I moved on the lounger slightly to give him room to squeeze in next to me. Howard and Martin were talking about impurities in the metal. I patted Lee’s knee and delved back into the conversation. It was some time later that Rand, obviously overwhelmed with the shop talk, plonked himself down on Martin’s lap.

“Can we talk about something else now?” he implored.

I suddenly remembered where I was, and where I was supposed to be going. I looked at Lee with a guilty expression. He was trying hard to put his angry face on.

“Didn’t we have a rule about talking work with my dad?” he asked me with as much of a stern tone as he could manage.

I tried my puppy-dog eyes. “Sorry. But you were late. As usual.”

He sighed in mock exasperation. “But I wanted to look pretty for you. Of course I need extra time.”

Forgetting about our audience, I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “I think you look the prettiest when I’m inside you and you’re coming so hard you hit me in the face with your shot.”

He turned bright red and abruptly got to his feet. “Right. Time to be going.”

There was laughter around us, and I couldn’t give a damn that they all knew I’d clearly talked dirty nothings to my boyfriend. Rand was beaming his approval. Martin was grinning as if he knew exactly what I said. Howard was chuckling at his youngest son. And Barry was shaking his head as if to say, “These young people these days.”

But I obediently stood and gave my farewells. Martin said, “Ring me first thing Monday, okay?”

I nodded and tried to keep the glee from my face. From the sly looks Lee was giving me as we got into my car, I don’t think I was successful.

B
Y
THE
time we arrived at Thor’s house, he was already tipsy. I was a little worried about the amount he’d been drinking. Cynthia had moved in with him eight months previous, and things had seemed to go downhill from there. He was drunk most weekends, and Cynthia didn’t seem to mind.

I wondered if there was something he was trying to forget.

At the start of any new relationship, friendship groups begin to intertwine. Thor’s younger brother and two of Thor’s workmates were familiar faces to me, but the other fifteen or so people in attendance were mostly strangers. Probably Cynthia’s friends. I recognized a couple of guys from Thor and Cynthia’s other parties, but I couldn’t recall their names.

Thor worked as a chef in a city restaurant, so the food at his shindigs was always nice. I still didn’t like Cynthia, though, and I’d made myself a promise I would try harder that day.

The front door was open, so we wandered in and greeted some people. I couldn’t see our hostess, but Thor was out manning the barbecue. Instead of sausages and steak, he’d be whipping up some sort of concoction that I would love.

I took Lee straight over to introduce the two of them, and Thor was friendly. He promised to come and sit with us after he’d finished at the hotplate, so I snagged a bowl of chips off the snack table and headed for the people I knew.

“Lee, this is Zach, Jordan, and Clem. Zach is Thor’s younger brother, and Jordan and Clem work at the restaurant with him. Guys, this is Lee.”

We all said hello and sat down. Over the next hour, people wandered in and out of our group. I ran into Cynthia in the kitchen when I was fetching another plate for Thor, and we said hello. She always seemed to look through me, as if I were unimportant to her. I tried to think it was because she was busy.

Thor finally joined us, and we laughed and drank—a perfect Saturday afternoon, in fact. At two o’clock, a large majority of the population migrated to the huge games room Thor had at the back of the house. The reason? Football. West Coast Eagles, the home team.

Since neither of our teams was playing, Lee and I sat at the back of the crowd and talked the best we could through the noise. The game was turned up to deafening levels—just in case the neighbors didn’t have a TV set of their own and needed to know the score—and the guys shouted their advice at the players. The women, whether not interested in the game or just unwilling to put up with the ruckus, were outside under the patio. I could hear them laughing and some pop music going in the background.

“I need to use the toilet,” Lee said. “Can you point out the direction?”

I gestured to the doorway off the main room of the house. “Go left to find the guest toilet. If that’s occupied, go to the other end of the hall and use the en suite off Thor’s room. He doesn’t mind.”

Lee stood and disappeared, so I watched the TV for a bit, trying to get excited over the flogging West Coast was giving Gold Coast. I didn’t mind a football game, but the one-sided match on the TV wasn’t even interesting. So I fetched another drink from the fridge and wondered what was holding Lee up.

When he still wasn’t back a few minutes later, I got concerned. The little biscuits with the shrimp paste had tasted a little funny to me, and Lee had eaten several. Did he have food poisoning?

I got up and wandered to the toilet. It was empty.

Disconcerted at this, I wandered up the other end of the hallway, toward Thor’s bedroom and noticed the closed door. I was contemplating knocking when I heard a shout from within. That sounded like my boyfriend.

I charged in the room and stopped short at the unbelievable scene I’d stormed into.

My terrified boyfriend was cowering in the corner of the room, one arm stretched wide where he was handcuffed to the bed. He was pleading, “Stop. Don’t. For fuck’s sake. Don’t.” It was horrifying because standing in front of him, naked except for a wispy bit of lace around her hips, was my best friend’s girlfriend. She was tugging at Lee’s pants, which he was determinedly trying to hold on to.

“C’mon,” she was saying. “You know you’ll like it. I’ll unlock you if you agree.”

I nearly gagged, then rushed to push her away from Lee.

“Dave,” he cried with relief as I reached him. His hair was mussed and there was lipstick on his chin.

I heard Cynthia stumble and fall against the nearby wardrobe before she demanded, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, arsehole?”

I checked Lee for marks or blood, and finding none, I spun on her with anger. “What the hell do you think
you
were doing?” I had a suspicion, but it was too outlandish to put into words.

I couldn’t believe the ugliness of her face as she snarled at me, “You’re interrupting.”

“He was saying no,” I roared at her. She didn’t even have the decency to try to cover her nudity, as she defiantly crossed her arms and glared.

“All guys say no at first. They love it, though.” I couldn’t believe the words that were falling from her mouth. What deluded planet did she live on? A guy can’t say no to sex? A guy who is trying to get away from her actually loves it?

Apart from the fact that she had a boyfriend who was in the house and a party was going on. How screwed up was she? No wonder Thor drank himself stupid every weekend.

“Fuck you. Give me the key before I do something ill advised,” I yelled. Lee was still yanking at the handcuffs where his right hand was tethered. With his left hand, he was holding up his pants.

“No way,” Cynthia screeched. “He’s mine.”

In some distant part of my brain, I realized there were a couple of heads peeping around the corner of the room. I didn’t give a stuff. I needed to get Lee out of here. “No,” I told her. “He’s mine. He’s mine, and he retains the right to say no to me, to you, and to any other person on the planet. He’s not a toy. He’s my boyfriend, and I love him. You’d better get me the key right now before I lose my temper and start breaking furniture.”