“The Balloon Man”

I looked up from the prospectus on my desk to give Cynthia a questioning look. “Tell me again, why I’m meeting with this...,” I glanced down again for effect, “Balloon man?” I arched an eyebrow at her. She was definitely off her game if this was what she was giving me to work with these days. This was an intern assignment if ever I saw one.

Cynthia’s smile was one of her more coaxing ones. “Mr. Gunnarson is the son of the founder of Gunnarson’s Balloons, Inc., one of Pittsburgh’s oldest family owned manufacturing plants. It’s been in operation since the 1940's, and was one of the first balloon manufacturers in the country. Some say Mr. Gunnarson was really the one who first came up with the idea for the latex balloon, not Neil Tillotson. Tillotson’s just the guy who got the credit for....” She stopped talking when I tipped my chair back while I tipped my eyebrow even higher, difficult as that is to achieve.

“I’m not answering your question, am I?” she asked sheepishly.

“No, you’re not. Though I’m sure I should be dazzled by your knowledge of balloon trivia. Which begs the question, why aren’t you meeting with the illustrious and no doubt aged Balloon Man, instead of me?”

Cynthia flushed. “It’s the younger Mr. Gunnarson who specifically requested you...and they’re willing to pay for a campaign designed by the illustrious, Clio award winning Brian Kinney. In fact, what the new young CEO of the company said is that what they’re looking for in their new ad campaign is that Kinney magic, they need you to infuse new life into their bottom line. From what I can gather, the latex balloon market is not doing all that well in this era of bigger and better, and the young Gunnarson – Frank is his name – is betting the farm, metaphorically speaking, on a hot advertising campaign bringing their business into the twenty-first century, believing that you can make balloons sexy.” My assistant ended on her typical up-beat note of confidence.

I rolled my eyes as I let my chair legs down with a thunk. I spoke briskly.

“There’s only one kind of latex product I can imagine marketing as sexy and it sure isn’t balloons. Although come to think of it, I can remember Mikey and me stealing Vic’s condoms when we were kids and blowing them up as balloons.” I smirked at her pained expression as much as at the memory of Vic chasing after us, stark naked from his bedroom when he realized that all of his condoms were missing. Never did get a glimpse of the trick he’d sneaked in while Deb was at work. I winked at Cynthia as I briskly dropped my seat back to the floor and turned my attention back to the prospectus I’d been reviewing to signify that I was ready to move on. “Those were good times, good times. Push the balloon men off on someone else. I have bigger balls to inflate than....”

“I can’t, Brian, I promised.”

I looked up. My eyebrow shot up.

“Excuse me? I could have sworn you said....”

Cynthia raised her chin and looked me in the eye. I repressed my reflexive feeling of annoyance. Sometimes she overestimated my admiration for spunk of the non-liquid variety, but she was one of my oldest and best employees, not to mention friends, so I really tried to curb the worst of my temper when around her.

“I promised Frank and his grandfather that you would handle their account personally.”

I had to hand it to her. She wasn’t backing down. She looked a bit nervous, but she wasn’t stammering or looking around at the floor or ceiling like Theodore would be when faced with my basilisk stare. I used my soft voice on her – never a good sign – to see how she reacted to that.

“So you promised my personal attention to these balloon men without clearing it with me first?”

I could see her swallow, but to her credit, she spoke firmly. “That’s right.”

“These Gunnarsons wouldn’t happen to be related to you, would they?”

Her eyes flashed but her voice stayed coolly professional. Cynthia was such a delight to me.

“Of course not. I would have mentioned that to you at once if they were and expected a discount on your services.”

Touché, I thought with an inward grin. She really had learned well from me. Before I could pose my next question she beat me to it, saying, “And no, I’m not dating one of them, neither the elder Mr. Gunnarson, who’s old enough to be my grandfather, nor Frank, born Franz, he changed it, by the way, who is young enough to be my...younger brother.” She flashed me a perky grin.

Okay, so maybe I was a sucker for spunk of all types...no pun intended. I made a show of pushing my paperwork aside and sighing heavily.

“Bring your protégés into the small conference room; I’ll meet them there. Seems like more than the balloons are getting inflated around here. I hope you have something ready for me there.”

Well, well, well, I thought as she ushered Albert and Franz, aka Frank, Gunnarson into our smaller conference room. Maybe a balloon man could be hot. At least the young one was, although Granddad looked to be about eighty. I quickly moved forward to offer Mr. Gunnarson my hand...and a chair. He smiled at me sweetly and I was reassured somewhat that his grip was strong and his eyes seemed relatively keen.

“My grandson here, young Franz, is now the businessman of our company Mr. Kinney. I’m just along for the outing. Please feel free to direct all of your comments to him. I’ll just admire the lovely view you have here. Beautiful day outside, isn’t it?”

I refrained from blinking at his complete disinterest – after all, it wasn’t often that the heads of what had been major companies and which were now companies seeking my help in regaining their top of the heap status totally tuned me out – but I was nothing if not adaptable.

“It certainly is, Mr. Gunnarson.”

“Albert.”

“Albert. And please, call me Brian. It’s a pleasure to meet one of Pittsburgh’s founding businessmen. Franz, thank you for coming to Kinnetik. Do you prefer Franz or Frank?” I checked out the younger Gunnarson as we shook hands; he looked like a younger David Beckham look alike as he stood protectively over his grandfather, watchful for any sign of disrespect.

“Frank, please. Only Grampa Gunny calls me Franz,” the hot young stud flashed a killer smile. “We appreciate your meeting with us, Brian. Cynthia has been brilliant and we know exactly how busy a man you are, but I’m convinced that it’s worth the sacrifices our firm is making to secure your personal attention for our campaign.”

I smiled. “Frank, Albert. Forgive me, this is something I normally would already know but I’m meeting with you on short notice at your request. So, I need you to educate me. How much money is there in balloons that securing a bigger piece of the market is going to be worth the kind of money we’re going to be talking.”

Frank told me. I looked up at Cynthia, who was smirking.

“That’s a lot of latex,” I commented. While I got my bearings, Cynthia moved to the display boards she’d set up at the end of the room. Unlike our usual presentation where I was fully briefed on the prospective client ahead of their arrival and could focus on selling my firm’s ideas to them, in this instance, the show felt reversed. I felt like the others in the room were trying to sell Gunnarson’s to me. I sat back in my chair next to Albert.

“Gunnarson’s Balloons has been a leader in the toy balloon industry for the past fifty years,” Cynthia began. She stood in front of a board that showed a view of large wide leaved trees in a tropical setting with buckets hanging from spigots. “Latex is eco-friendly, unlike other balloons such as the showier mylar products, since it is both biodegradable and it is one rain forest crop that does no damage to the rubber trees that it is comes from, being harvested in much the same way maple syrup is taken from maple trees in Vermont. The latex is captured in the form of a sap, representing a virtually permanent cash crop from the rubber trees so that provides an incentive not to cut the trees down. Gunnarson’s Balloon Company is a major supporter of agriculture in Malaysia as well as in local industry here in Pittsburgh. Facts which can be used on the website to promote it to the younger, more eco savvy consumer.”

I lifted an eyebrow and subtly glanced at my watch. Without missing a beat, Cynthia moved to her next board.

“Gunnarson’s produces thirty-five percent of the latex balloons sold in America, with the capacity to capture even more than the fifty-five percent of the market that they had in their heyday. Such a turnaround would benefit the Pittsburgh economy tremendously in terms of revenue and new jobs. They should be an easy sell. Aside from the environmental angle, Gunnarson’s balloons are better value than those produced by its competitors both here and abroad. They’re more durable, they’re more attractive and....”

“We make a better balloon for less,” Albert interrupted. He turned to me. “It’s that simple.”

I couldn’t help grinning at Cynthia before turning back to Albert. “It usually is, Albert. Please excuse Cynthia, sometimes she gets carried away by a new product. You tell me...why are your balloons better than everyone else’s and if they are, why don’t you have eighty or ninety percent of the market?”

Frank Gunnarson interjected smoothly before Pops could answer me.

“My Uncles didn’t believe in advertising at all and they cut production and expenses. I believe the way to make money, Brian, is to spend money. Make the best product, get it out there on the market where people can see it and it will sell.”

The hot young blond met my look head-on. He certainly knew how to present himself, I mused, taking stock of the well-cut Armani suit that emphasized his well built, slimly muscular body, the close cut blond hair and the piercing blue eyes. Yeah, he was hot and he was sending my gaydar off the stonewall scale. He put on a good show of looking the part of the take charge “let’s turn this company around” young whiz kid CEO in front of gramps, but I’d be shocked if he were more than twenty-two or maybe twenty-three. Now I was the last person to deny that Wall Street used to be full of kids barely old enough to shave who were business geniuses, but they tended to be working their miracles in fields like video games and other high tech fields, not trying out all they learned with a freshly minted degree with the family business that had been around since their doting grandfather had been in knickers. That was the way to the bankruptcy courts if you asked me.

Not my problem, really. Except and unless he used the last of the company’s assets to hire Kinnetik to work a miracle of marketing. Then it became my problem, whispered that little voice in my head that sounded suspiciously like my lover. I repressed a sigh. At least that annoying voice now had Danny’s sexy tone and timbre – it used to sound like Debbie.

“Frank. Let’s take a little walk around Kinnetik while Cynthia keeps Albert company. You and I can talk about some of your ideas.”

“I want a Dark Angel campaign,” Frank announced stubbornly, no doubt sensing that I was going to try to talk some sense into him.

Of course you do, I thought, managing not to smile. I wanted Patrick Swayze when I was your age. But I didn’t have the money to buy...or rather, rent...Patrick Swayze for my college graduation party and I survived. What I said was, “We’ll discuss the particulars of your campaign in a bit. I want you to get a feel for....”

Just then there was a piercing scream coming from the reception area, followed shortly by a babble of excited voices. I tried to ignore it and shrugged my shoulders at the clients' inquisitive looks, while sending Cynthia my own look that told her to take care of whatever the problem was – although I was fairly sure I recognized that banshee wail. Just then, the door slammed open – barely missing Frank Gunnarson – and a small human torpedoed into my legs before I could take evasive action. I reached down to grab my attacker before she could escape. With wisdom born of experience and many a bruised shin, I held Briana O’Keefe at arm's length and well clear of my guests.

“Albert, Frank, let me introduce you to the youngest and newest Dark Angel, Miss Briana O’Keefe.”

“Put me down!” The small legs were kicking mightily but she couldn’t move anything else as I had her arms pinned to her sides while I held her straight out, about chest high. Frank looked at her doubtfully.

“Is that child lost?” he asked.

“One could only hope,” I told him. “Cynthia!”

“On it, boss,” she answered, her hand already on the phone, presumably dialing the front desk while she smiled cheerfully at Albert.

Albert was the only one of the four of us adults who was not fazed by the struggling termagant I was holding who’d returned to screaming her annoyance with the situation. He had pulled a handful of balloons from somewhere and was calmly but speedily inflating and twisting them into a very recognizable, if somewhat bright and multi-colored giraffe.

The demon in my arms stilled as her attention was caught and I cautiously lowered her to the ground. She sidled over to Albert, who acted oblivious to her as the giraffe was joined by a monkey and a tiger.

“I like dogs,” Briana confided to him. She was looking enviously at the growing menagerie that bobbed lightly on the tabletop in front of the old man.

“I’m rather fond of dogs too,” Albert said and his clever old fingers started to form a dog with floppy ears and a long curving tail. Must be a mixed breed, I thought, amused despite my annoyance at the demon seed’s interruption of my meeting, the meeting that I hadn’t wanted in the first place.

Just as Albert was offering the balloon dog to a Briana who was all smiles now, and I was about to suggest to Frank that we leave them to it, trusting that Cynthia would soon find Briana’s rightful keeper, the door swung open again and a second scowling O’Keefe face appeared.

Of course, it’s my considered opinion that the scowl did more for Danny’s particular brand of looks than it did for the rugrat’s. On him, it projected a sense of barely controlled power, and this way he had of clenching his jaw changed the shape of his dimples, it just made you want to start licking them. Well, at least that’s how it affected me. On her it looked like she needed a nap.

So, in stormed Danny, nostrils flaring, hair flung back, dark gray shirt open enough to show that fantastic chest and his tailored pants emphasizing the muscular thighs...Frank was getting his first eyeful of the Dark Angel he was willing to bet the family fortune on, and he looked like he thought it was going to be worth every penny.

Danny, on the other hand, was totally focused on retrieving his runaway niece and exacting a suitable punishment. Knowing his pride in keeping completely professional at work, I was sure he was totally mortified by her temper tantrum so I intercepted him before he totally lost it, acting as though it was perfectly normal to have a client presentation invaded by a six year old.

“Danny, I’m so glad you’ve joined us. This kind gentleman entertaining Briana is Mr. Albert Gunnarson, one of Pittsburgh’s leading businessmen. And this is his grandson and the current CEO of Gunnarson’s Balloons, Frank Gunnarson.”

Shooting me a looked that promised retribution later, Danny reined in his temper and moved forward to shake Albert’s hand first, since he was the older man, but he was stopped by the overly excited Frank.

“Danny O’Keefe, it’s a thrill to meet you! I’m so looking forward to seeing what Brian comes up with as a Dark Angel campaign for our company.”

I couldn’t help wincing as the young blond pumped Danny’s hand up and down while looking him over like he was a horse he was considering buying...or riding. An expensive, thoroughbred racehorse, but a piece of horseflesh nonetheless. On second thought, he looked more like he was considering him more for stud service than racing, and while I might be amused by such antics from a young hot guy, Danny wasn’t me. Those green eyes met mine over Frank’s head and it was like having kryptonite shooting at me. I felt mistreated. This was completely Cynthia’s fault and now I was going to have to fix it. I wished I could scream like Briana as I foresaw a difficult evening ahead.

“A Dark Angel balloon campaign?” Danny asked in a deceptively sweet tone. I wondered if it was too late to claim these men were the cleaning crew?

“Uncle Danny, look! It’s a Fosse Cat balloon!” Briana demanded her uncle’s attention, about two minutes too late, as far as I was concerned.

Danny walked over and finished greeting Albert. He thanked him charmingly for entertaining his niece then firmly instructed said niece to apologize for interrupting the meeting. His expression made it clear that Briana would be hearing more about her behavior once Danny got her alone. I had more sympathy for her now that I could relate – I suspected I would be hearing some complaints from him as well once he got me alone later. The Dark Angel was not to be used in any campaign without his express permission. It was a clause that he’d never enforced strictly with me since we’d been together, but then, he’d never had reason to think he’d have to– I knew as well as he did the types of things that were appropriate for the Dark Angel– it didn’t take an advertising genius to know that balloons weren’t on the short list.

“We’ll leave you to your meeting, Brian. Briana did have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon but since she refused to go with Lindsay and J.R., I’m going to have to see about rescheduling it. I don’t know when we’ll be home. Again, thank you, Mr. Gunnarson, for your kindness and I apologize again for the interruption to your meeting, everyone. Briana, what do you have to say?”

“Thank you for my lovely balloon animals, Grampa Albert!” Briana had scored the whole set which thrilled her. I knew I’d be hearing complaints from Danny later that she’d been rewarded for misbehaving, but I didn’t know what he expected me to do about it. Rip them from her hands? Even as I had the thought, Danny outwitted his smug little niece.

“Oh no, Briana, I think all those beautiful balloon animals are too much for one little girl, especially one who was so naughty as to run away from Lindsay to get out of your doctor's appointment and then to hide from Miss Susie in daycare, and then to disrupt Brian’s meeting with Grampa Albert and his grandson and with Ms. Cynthia. You had a very busy afternoon when I think about it. So I think the pretty balloon animals would be very welcome in Miss Susie’s care center here at Kinnetik for all of the children who behaved today to enjoy. If you will give them to Cynthia to take them there after your meeting, Albert?”

When Danny smiled his most charming smile at Albert, Briana knew she didn’t have a chance. That firm little chin wobbled but she took one look at her uncle and didn’t dare argue. She did something far more devious. Her mouth drooped in this pathetically sad look and she whispered, “I guess that is fair, Uncle Daddy, I don’t deserve the pretty animals.”

Even Danny had to bite his lip; it was a masterful performance. Albert looked at the two of them and then winked at me.

“Perhaps,” he said, reaching out for the droopy tailed dog, “just this fellow could be kept back from the others and held to give Miss Briana at home? To remind her of her friend Grandpa Albert, the Balloon Man? I would like that, if you could relax your very fair judgment in this instance, Danny, in favor of an old man. Perhaps Miss Briana would remember it for next time and not make you have to be so hard on yourself?”

Danny smiled and nodded, relieved and grateful for being given a way out. Briana, however, hesitated to reach out for the dog that Albert held out to her, suspecting a trap. She drew her brows together and tipped her head inquisitively. She asked Albert, “But it was me who lost all the pretty animals cos Uncle Daddy is giving them to the other kids, why did you say he is being hard on himself?”

Albert looked up at Danny for permission and at his nod, pulled the brat up onto his lap. I found it interesting that although Albert was talking to Briana, he first gave his own grandson a piercing look, holding that handsome young man’s gaze for a moment before tipping Briana’s chin up and directing his comments to her. I saw a flush come to the blond’s cheeks before he walked over to the window. He pretended to be ignoring his grandfather’s words but I was willing to bet he was taking in every syllable. Old Albert was a lot more with it than he seemed at first, I realized, and he knew exactly what Frank was risking with his insistence on wanting a hot sexy advertising campaign for his family's toy balloon company. Perhaps he could be used to convince the company’s CEO not to throw the money away on an inappropriate campaign? I leaned against the credenza and listened to what the old man had to say to my lover’s incorrigible niece. And by extension, to his grandson.

“When we love someone, dear child, it hurts us more to deny them something they want, than it hurts them, and it takes a strong man to deny his beloved child something they want.”

“But if he loves his child, why would he say no?”

“Because sometimes it is better for the child not to have something, and sometimes it is better for the child to learn a lesson that won’t be learned without that child doing without something that the child wants. If the child always hears yes, yes, yes...the first time she...or he...hears no, it will not go very well for the child, will it?”

“Then maybe she should just never hear no, never ever!” Those O’Keefe dimples flashed. Danny’s eyes met mine and he rolled them expressively. I grinned. There was no denying this was Angel’s child.

Albert laughed, an infectious laugh. “Oh child, your uncle will have his hands full with you, I can see. You must just believe me, it is not good for a person never to hear no, you will just have to trust Grampa Albert on that. And you should be a good girl to your uncle or you will make me think I was wrong to make you any balloon animals.”

“Oh no, you were right to make them and I will be very good for my Uncle Daddy. Thank you, and thank you for letting me keep my doggy even though I had bad behavior.” The sunny smile was back.

Albert looked at Danny. “A handful, yes?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he agreed fervently. “Thank you, for everything, especially for the little talk.”

Albert looked over at Frank, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “It is a good thing to remember. The beautiful children, they sometimes get their own way too much, but it is difficult to say no.”
 

****************
 

I walked into the small, intimate club and discouraged the attentions of the maitre d̀ with a smile. I saw the table I was going to crash. Naughty Wendy...off with a different Lost Boy again and leaving her Tinkerbell home alone. Well, not so alone, I amended my metaphor mentally. There were plenty of lost girls keeping smelly Melly company these days at the big O’Keefe house. Maybe that was why Lindz wasn’t happy there? She always had preferred the company of men in many ways.

I slipped into the booth seat next to my old friend and pulled her close, taking advantage of her surprise to kiss her full on the lips. I kept one eye on the man across from us, gauging his reaction. Cool amusement, so either he was not the jealous type or he was not that type of friend...or he was confident enough not to be jealous. I wondered which it was.

Lindsay laughed nervously as she pulled back, straightening her hair. “Brian! What are you doing...I mean...what a surprise. A pleasant surprise.”

I ignored her babbling and shifted to extend my hand to her companion, the scruffy artist.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, although of course I know your work, Mr. Auerbach. I’m Brian Kinney, one of Lindsay’s oldest friends.” I found my smile returned ... with interest, as my hand was gripped in a firm, calloused workman’s hand.

“Call me Sam, Brian. I would say I feel as though I know you but I know I hate it when people say that to me after listening to my ex-wives. Not that Lindsay here is your ex-wife, of course.”

He smirked at me. So, this was going to be one of those conversations, I thought, leaning back and putting my arm along the back of the booth. All innuendo, slip in with the knife, make the cut and then slip back out again. The other person ends up bleeding to death from countless small cuts before they even realize they’re under attack. Lindsay hated them. Reminded her too much of her family, I suspected. Personally, I loved that kind of conversation, beat a punch to face any day ... To each her own.

Lindsay looked pale. I squeezed her shoulder. She could take it as a comforting gesture if she wanted.

“No, Lindz isn’t an ex at all. She’s my best girl, old college sweethearts, close confidante, mother of my son. We’re as tight as ever, aren’t we, darling?” I signaled for the waiter and when he hurried over, I ordered a Beam then looked at my two companions.

“Can I get you two kids anything? Sam, you look like a hard drinking man, surely you’ll be ready for another drink...or two...any minute now. Wendy, another white wine?” I asked the waiter to bring a fresh round along with my drink despite Lindsay’s fluttering protest. Auerbach grinned and lifted his current drink in a toast to me as he finished it in a gulp. From the looks of him, he didn’t pass up many opportunities to drink. He looked like a hard living man. Quite frankly, if he weren’t fucking up my son’s home life, I could probably like the guy. But, for all my catting around, I was never a homewrecker.

“Brian, we were just having a quiet drink, I’m sure you must have somewhere to go. Isn’t your partner waiting for you?” Lindsay’s face had that pinched look that made her look like she was concentrating on clenching a stick between her butt cheeks. I smiled sweetly at her and kissed her on the cheek again. Any other time she’d have been in seventh heaven at this much attention from me, I thought cynically. It was proof positive, as far as I was concerned, that her intentions with Auerbach were dishonorable.

“Actually, no, love, my lover is taking his niece to the dentist. Something about an appointment that had to be rescheduled from this afternoon. So I’m free for after work drinks, a lovely opportunity to catch up with old friends. How about you? Is this work or pleasure? Or pleasurable work? Or working for your pleasure? Fortunate that a busy mom of two such as yourself was able to get away like this to meet up with an old friend for a quiet drink. Even better that I happened to stumble upon you like this. Doubles the pleasure, wouldn’t you say?”

And so fortunate that I have friends in every intimate club in this part of town. It only took Cynthia fifteen minutes to find out where you were, my cheating friend. I looked at Auerbach, my sincere, adman smile in place.

“How are things in the art world, Sam?” I raised an eyebrow as the drinks arrived. “You couldn’t possibly be having another show in Pittsburgh? Could you?”

Sam laughed at Lindsay’s flush.

“No, not this trip. I’m here to, how did you put it? Work for my pleasure. I’m hoping to convince Lindsay to assist me in Florence on a major showing of my work in conjunction with a course that I’ve agreed to teach at the University there. I’m allowed an assistant who will receive MFA credits....it’s a great opportunity for the right person.”

It took quite a bit of effort to keep my face expressionless. That knife had slipped in and landed a deadly blow without me even seeing it leave the sheath. With my arm resting above her shoulders, I could feel that Lindz was vibrating with excitement, and with good reason. This was an incredible opportunity. I reached for my drink and took a swallow as I stalled for time.

“Brian?” Lindsay’s hand touched mine where it was resting above her shoulder.

I looked her in the eyes, trying to read something of what she was feeling. I was expecting to see indecision, concern, hell, even some of the love that I’d taken for granted for almost twenty years, ever since we’d met during that first crazy week of college when everyone was so busy trying to act grown-up and feeling so young and unsure. I saw that same nervous excitement I saw back then, but the sexual awareness wasn’t for me. The old Lindsay was back, and it was only in seeing her again that I realized how long she’d been gone.

“You won’t say anything to Mel, will you? Not until I have the chance to tell her myself?”

This fight was over before I even gotten into it, I realized. “When are you planning on telling her, Lindz? When you're on your way to the airport?”

She flushed. “I haven’t decided that I’m going, Brian. Sam has just been telling me about it and you have to admit, it’s a wonderful opportunity, the kind of....”

“Don’t bother with the pretense, Lindz, we’re all friends here. You, me, Sam,” I raised my glass this time, in mimicry of his gesture. “I congratulate you, Sam. It isn’t everyone who can offer such tempting bribes to every bit of pussy that gets away.”

You’d think by now I’d know when to duck her slaps. Actually, they’re really more of a left hook. Auerbach winced and offered me a napkin to mop up my spilled drink after Lindsay pushed me out of the booth saying that she needed to go powder her nose. She said it like she was going to completely break down once she was alone.

“You know,” Auerbach said, “I’ve always suspected when I’ve been in your place, which has been more times that I can count, that they don’t really go to the can to cry. She’s probably gone in there to run cold water over her hand. They’d get bruised knuckles otherwise, the way they throw the punches around.”

I looked at the artist ruefully as I held the ice to my jaw. “She won’t be happy, you know. She’ll feel guilty and she’ll blame you for that.”

He nodded. “Perhaps. But she’s unhappy here, and she blames everyone for it. She’s not suited to this life she’s living. If she’d settled down with you, even a part of you, it would have been different, but she never expected her life to be like this, you know. She’s a beautiful, talented woman, and she’s living the life of a housewife...a housewife to another woman who doesn’t give her the equality a modern man would.”

I shook my head. “Is that what she says?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true, it’s how she sees it. She thinks life with a male partner would be different, and with the right partner it would have been. No woman is going to treat her like a princess.”

“And you will?”

“I’ll give her what she needs.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess. A good stiff....”

He laughed. “No wonder she hits you. If that were all she needed, her partner could provide that with a good strap-on. But I can provide her with excitement, a challenge. The chance to be a desirable, creative woman again, and to be that woman in one of the world’s most beautiful cities. I don’t offer forever, but she’s been suffocating with the weight of forever. I can give her a now that will be worth remembering.”

“Yeah, she can tell her grandchildren about it...if they know who she is.” I threw some money down on the table. “Tell Lindsay I had to go home to my ‘partner.’ But if I don’t see her before she leaves, I wish her bon voyage.”

“I’m sure you’ll see her before she goes. Although I’m also sure that if anyone could keep her from going, you could, by making her feel bad enough about leaving that she decides to stay. Or by making her feel that you want her to stay enough that there is hope for something more between the two of you than there really is,” he said pensively.

I stared at him. “Lindsay knows that there is no hope of us ever being more than good friends.”

“Really? Then what was that little charade when you first joined us in aid of, if not playing on those feelings you know she has for you, feelings that you’ve never returned and never will? Father of her child that you are?”

“Not too worried about that child, are you? Since you’re taking his mother away.”

“He’d be welcome. Travel is good for a youngster.”

I wanted to smash the smug look off his face. I looked down at my hand that was gripping my glass tightly. I managed to lift it to my mouth instead of flinging its contents at him. I had more sympathy now for the emotion that led to Lindsay’s punching me. Which reminded me, I probably should leave so she could come back. I suspected she was hovering out of sight somewhere, waiting for me to go so she could rejoin her lover. I forced my voice and expression to remain calm.

“Gus is staying here,” I said firmly. “I suggest Lindsay tell Mel, and Gus, her plans soon so they have time to get used to the idea before she leaves. Take care of her, Auerbach. She’s not as free-spirited as you might like to think. She cares about things, deeply. If she’s willing to go with you, it means she cares about you too, for some unfathomable reason. Treat that, and her, with respect.” I stood to go.

“Believe me, Kinney, I do, and I will.”

For all that he looked like a bum, I believed him. As I headed back out to my car, it occurred to me that my Wendy was finally heading to Neverland...and she was going without me. Who would have thought that I would have been the one to grow up first? I felt bereft, much as I had when she drove off with Mel and Gus for Canada, but that wild escapade never seemed likely to succeed so deep down I always expected them to be back. This time, something told me that no matter how much Lindsay might claim she was only leaving for a year or two to study art, she was never coming home again.

****************

It was late when I finally joined Brian in the music room. I brought a bottle of mineral water for me and a glass of wine for him. I was wearing a new pair of gauzy white “sweats” designed by Odo, the hot young designer at D&G. He’d given them to me to test out what I liked to call their fuckability factor. I was doing just that, wearing these in lieu of Brian’s favorite pair of sweats, the really worn out black ones, which happened to be my favorite hanging around the house outfit too. They were getting to be so worn, however, that I thought I’d better try breaking in a new favorite and start saving those for really special occasions. Like an anniversary or something. Besides, tonight I’d intended to first fight with Bri and then have some hot make-up sex, which these obscenely suggestive pants were in aid of--a sort of preemptive peace offering. But now, seeing how he looked so completely drained, I was having second thoughts. I’d intended to have it out with him over this new ad campaign he was working on, but I was thinking of skipping right to the make-up sex. He’d been hiding since he’d gotten home late from work. He’d snapped Em’s head off when the poor guy simply offered to reheat dinner for him, not a sign of a Brian who’d had a good day. He tended to pick on Em but not normally in such a nasty way and never for the pampering that we both really loved. Brian might bitch about Em’s fussing but he secretly loved it.

“Rough day?” I asked lightly, after he accepted the glass of wine and gave me a slight smile, which widened as he got an eyeful. From the direction of his gaze, the smile was for these so-called sweats more than for the wine. I probably could let Odo know he had another winner. I wouldn’t want to actually exercise in them, but for strenuous activities of a more sensual nature, they seemed perfect. They left just enough to the imagination, but did a good job of helping the imagination along by letting the viewer know what you had, being loose and filmy and fairly sheer. I could see Brian wanting me to get a dozen pairs. I would get him some while I was at it, I decided. In black.

I sat on the arm of the sofa and waited for him to stop leering and answer my question.

“Not my best,” he finally answered after drinking some wine and leaning back against the sofa with a sigh. “Looking for privacy?” He indicated the door I’d kicked shut with my foot, in order to take advantage of the room’s sound-proofing. Em’s bedroom was on the second floor, as was Briana’s but our “discussions” have been known to get a little loud. Well, I get loud. Brian gets quiet when we fight. I had been in the mood to do some yelling, before making up, by which stage we both have been known to get a bit noisy...in a good way. In fact, I still wasn’t completely ready to give up on my temper tantrum but if he was bummed, I would have to put it off. I wasn’t a selfish bitch, like certain people of his acquaintance I could name. And speaking of Lindsay.... I took a deep breath and got started.

“I closed the door so I could yell at you without Emmett or Briana hearing,” I told him, dropping down onto the sofa to sit on the opposite end from him. He set his laptop on the table behind the sofa but left it open and on, then pulled my feet up onto his lap. I could see through that gesture. He was hoping that a foot rub might soothe the cranky beast. I lifted one eyebrow and shifted to get into a more comfortable position. A foot rub would be accepted but would not get him many points. He should know that I am not so easily pacified.

I watched as he took another swallow of the wine then set the glass down and got to work. I took a deep swig from my water bottle then pointed it at him, and announced, “Your friend Lindsay is a fucking bitch.”

He just went on rubbing my feet. It was getting difficult maintaining my temper tantrum. He was making me feel good and I hadn’t had a chance to vent yet. Meanwhile, he was keeping something to himself that was bothering him. This wouldn’t do. I made a face at him. He looked at me and gave me that faint smile again, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

“Am I supposed to argue with you or something at this point?” he asked as he took another swallow of wine. Wine with whine...good idea. I wondered if we had any cheese in the kitchen.

“Care to tell me in what specific way Lindz was a bitch this time?”

“Yes, I would, thank you,” I replied, in what I felt was a dignified way, drawing my feet out of his lap to sit cross-legged. Not a good idea to let him make me feel all mellow if I want to maintain my sense of being wronged, I recognized, logically, if a bit childishly. Okay, a lot childishly. Sometimes I wonder if I’m all that much better than Briana.

Of course, it served me right that bending my legs like that made my bad knee ache more, which I realized as soon as I did it, but by then I felt it would be too obvious if I tried moving it right back into Brian’s space. I tried rubbing the pain away instead, which was only partially successful. I’d been having problems with the damn knee all day, which was one of the reasons I’d been such a bear with everyone. I had a modeling job in the morning which required standing and crouching for several hours. The photographer wanted action shots but couldn’t make up his mind exactly what actions he wanted. I hated working with guys like that. They have no clear vision in mind but keep clicking away, waiting for inspiration.

When that shoot was finally over, I’d tried getting some work done on a screenplay I’ve been working on for ages. It was a project I’d started while in rehab after my knee surgery. After discussing the problem with Ben, I was finally able to get past a difficult spot that had stymied me for weeks when the frantic call had come from Susie, the woman in Kinnetik’s Day Care Center. She needed me to drop what I was doing and help search for Briana, who had bolted following an altercation with Lindsay. So much for best laid plans.

I’d already vented a lot of this on the phone to Cynthia earlier, when I’d pumped her for information about the balloon guys. I couldn’t understand why I was expected to do such a very non-Dark Angel campaign if ever there was one. She suggested I talk to Brian and explain about Briana and tell him if I was unhappy about the balloon campaign. She was right. I did need to talk to him. Plus, I needed to explain why my niece had been running amok through his office, screaming like a banshee apparently, if Ted’s account hadn’t been exaggerated. It probably was, but still, she must have been terrible. That nice old gentleman must have worked a miracle with her. He was really sweet when it came time to take her away too, not undermining my authority. I got the impression he knew something about spoiled kids. No doubt from that grandson of his who looked like he was used to getting his way. He’s lucky I’m not the type to take offense at a man for making his admiration of my man too obvious, because junior balloon man was practically drooling over Brian.

Just then, my hot man was watching me rub my knee with that concerned look that he always tries to hide – like he isn’t more protective of me than anyone’s ever been, even Luke wasn’t this...I don’t even know how to describe it. But even more than with Luke, from Brian, I don’t mind it. Of course, I don’t let him know that. But it did more to dissolve my temper than the foot rub had. Before I could figure out how to apologize for Briana and explain her behavior, and mine, he started talking.

“Come on, Danny, I know you were pissed off by Lindsay today and if you hold it all in you’re bound to explode about something else later. Why don’t you tell me what Lindsay did and then I can explain what happened with the balloon men? I haven’t had the chance to explain about that and I know you’re angry about that too but since neither thing was really my fault can we just have the venting without the fight? Why can’t you just stretch out against me, with us both on the same side instead of facing off against each other? If nothing else it would be easier on your knee for you to stretch your legs out and I’d get to wrap my arms around you so we’ll both feel better. I’ll even massage your shoulders.”

His eyes were tired but caring and suddenly all the problems of the day just melted away.

“No... I mean, yes, I’d love to lie back against you, but, no, you don’t have to massage my shoulders or anything. Being on the same side and close does sound a hell of a lot better, especially if we turn the lights down low. It’s been a bitch of a day. I don’t understand about this balloon campaign but we can discuss it later. Without my acting like a prima donna. There’s been enough of that lately. You really should make me grovel for the invasion of your office, you know.”

His gorgeous hazel eyes gleamed. “I was saving that card. I’m going to use it if I end up needing you after all for this campaign. I figure your overly developed sense of fairness will make you want to compensate for that little darling of yours, who is currently upstairs sleeping the sleep of the righteous, but was a total monster when she disrupted my office, not to mention a private meeting. I know you – your guilt alone will make you accede to my devious demands.”

I groaned...he was right, damn him. As much as I wanted to blame Lindsay, and I did, Briana’s behavior had been atrocious. Brian ruffled my hair.

“Don’t worry. I really can’t imagine using the Dark Angel in a balloon ad. Not if I want to retain any credibility as an ad agency. Can you? No, strike that question. You’re no longer glaring at me, don’t want to get you started up again. Where’s the rest of this bottle of wine?”

“I’ll get it if you stop stalling and tell me what’s bothering you,” I offered.

“No, you sit, that knee is obviously hurting. I’ll get the wine and some more water for you and then I’ll fill you in on my day, after you tell me what Lindsay did, deal?”

“Deal.”

He paused by the door and looked back at me. “By the way, I like those pants. I hope you got more of them.”

I smiled at him. “I think that could be arranged. What color do you want yours to be? I’m thinking black.”

He laughed as he slipped out of the room. Thinking about it, I wouldn’t mind seeing Brian in some revealing pants like these, I mused. He was still in his suit pants and dress shirt from work. Other than taking off his tie, belt and socks, he still hadn’t made the transition to “play clothes.” I frowned. A down-side for Brian to living with me was that he couldn’t just strip and walk around naked whenever he wanted. I really was lucky he was here at the townhouse tonight. Today had been the kind of day after which he used to need to go to his loft for some peace and quiet. Just one more reason to feel guilty. He probably heard Briana screeching when he arrived home from work and that’s why he headed in here, no stopping to change or eat. Fuck.

When he came back, I had the lights down low and jazz on the stereo. Brian looked for his laptop that I’d shut down and put back in its case. He grinned his appreciation for my initiative.

“I guess I was done working for tonight. Thank you for putting my laptop away for me. I trust you saved the campaign I was working on?”

“The balloon one?” I asked sweetly. “Hmm, let me think...did I hit save? Damn, I knew there was something I meant to do.”

He smiled at my teasing but it was a tense effort. I patted the spot next to me on the sofa.

“Come on, sit down. You promised to tell me about your day. Did something happen after I left your office? You seemed to be handling an admittedly difficult situation well when I left you – removing the difficulty. Listen, Bri, I’m really sorry about that. I’ll keep Briana far away from Kinnetik from now on, I promise.”

I pulled him close, guiding him down on top of me so that his body blanketed mine, my legs spread wide to accommodate his between them, and my arms holding him above me. I lowered him so I could kiss him slowly, enjoying the taste of the wine on his lips. With my legs pinning his and my hands gripping his forearms, he was effectively trapped, with our cocks providing delicious friction as we moved against each other.

After a long, satisfying kiss, I lifted him up and smiled at the bemused look on his face.

“Well, your mood has changed,” he observed, resting his elbows on my chest. He wasn’t trying to get away so I let him have a little leverage, releasing his right arm so he could grab his wine glass. I used my free hand to finish unbuttoning his shirt so I could pull it off him.

“Well, it occurred to me that of the two of us, your day seems to have been worse than mine, and that is just based on what I saw of your day. I don’t even know what happened after I left. Something else must have happened to bring you down, so it’s my job to bring you back up, which incidentally, works to lift my mood too, one of those win, win, situations I love so much.” I kissed his chin. “Care to tell me about it?”

While I waited for him to answer, I continued to caress him, rubbing my hands down his back slowly as I moved my mouth back to his neck. It looked so good as he stretched to drink from his glass. Brian has such a beautiful long neck. I could feel him smile as I tongued along the tendon while he drank; he was gulping quickly, probably so I didn’t make him spill it. He pressed harder against me as he leaned up, distracting me with the feel of his hard cock rolling against mine. I moved my hands lower to steady his hips.

“You start that and I’ll never hear what was bothering you,” I complained...in a very non-whining voice, careful to keep my voice in its deepest register as there was nothing I hated more than whining. Even when I was the one doing the whining. Or maybe especially when I’m the one doing it, I should say. “Bri, I really want to fuck you.” I leaned up to taste his ear.

“Hmm,” He murmured, turning his head and bending it to start his own licking and sucking. “You took the words right out of my mouth.” Those perfect lips of his closed around a nipple. I swear there’s a direct connection between my nipples and my cock. He flicked and licked with that tongue of his and I couldn’t stop myself from bucking up against him, losing control like a teenager, he still affects me so much. Especially when I glance down and those eyes of his are gleaming up at me so knowingly, like he knows exactly how good he’s making me feel and he’s daring me to let loose.

Forget talking, forget being cool and in control, fucking him, this was Brian and I swear I never wanted anything as much I wanted his cock up my ass. I reached, fumbling like a kid, for the lube and condoms that I kept in the drawer next to the sofa. My hand slipped and I dropped them as he crouched over me and brushed his hand over my cotton covered cock.

“Damn it,” I swore, my hand reaching blindly around on the floor for the dropped goods. Brian chuckled as he moved his head back up to cut off my cursing with a kiss, a hard and demanding one that totally took my mind off finding the dropped lube. Meanwhile, his hands were busy pulling my flimsy new pants down over my hips. I used my feet to finish kicking them off. I gave up on the lube and condom – let him get them. My hands were busy undoing his suit pants and trying to pull them down.

He pulled back and stood up next to the sofa.

“I do hope you’re just standing up to take those damn pants off and not because you thought of a great idea for your ad campaign,” I groused, taking a swig directly from the wine bottle. One swig couldn’t hurt, I reasoned. Damn, Brian looked good, his skin golden in the muted light, his long lean muscles so smooth and tantalizing. I reached up and ran my hand along his hip as his pants dropped to the floor. I smiled to see that he had gone to work commando – the cool, poised executive in charge of one the city’s most successful companies and he didn’t wear underwear beneath his three thousand dollar designer suit. Classic Kinney.

I leaned up on my elbows and bent forward to touch my tongue to the cock that jutted out so temptingly, licking the tip. I closed my eyes and brought a hand up to his ass to move him closer, enjoying his taste, the musky smell that was pure Brian. As he wove his fingers through my hair, I started to reconsider being fucked; I was beginning to get into blowing him. I starting to sink back down, taking him with me, both hands on his ass, pulling him deeper into my mouth. He kneeled on either side of my head, fucking my face, his ass in my hands as I toyed with his balls. Just as I was really getting into it, though, he lifted himself up and away. I was ready to force him back in, or roll on top of him and put the dropped condom on myself in order to thrust into him, but he was reaching for it first.

“I need to be in you, you look so incredible lying there...you know it too, don’t you? What you do to me? I have to fuck you,” he whispered, his hand combing through my hair, caressing my face with his thumb. I took the condom from his hand and reached down to roll it onto him. He stuck two fingers in my mouth for me to suck – so much for lube. I smiled at him and rolled my tongue around them much the same way I had been doing to his cock and he groaned a little bit.

“If I can’t wait and you suffer for it, it’s your own fault,” he warned me.

But I wanted it rough tonight. I wanted to feel him thrust in hard and fast because he couldn’t bear to wait anymore to feel my heat around him, and I wanted to wrap my legs around him and pull him in even tighter and deeper and make him pound into me even harder. The sight of Brian flexing and stretching above me had me coming almost before I wanted to – a stupid thing to think, of course, because who doesn’t want to come? But I wanted it to last. I really did. But when I’m looking up at that face and feeling so amazing and he suddenly smiles at me and we connect – forget hitting my prostate, which he does too – he touches me somewhere so deep no one else has ever come close and fireworks go off in my chest and I want to fall in love with this man all over again every day of my life.

Afterward, it was my turn to hold him, and he rested his head on my shoulder as the music shifted from Thelonius Monk to Billie Holiday. I’d gotten a larger sofa for the music room a couple of months back so it was much easier to accommodate our “naps” as Brian called them. I liked to just stay where we were for awhile and cuddle. He preferred to get up and return to the bedroom. I would be in favor of ending up in the bedroom too, eventually, I just liked to enjoy the afterglow longer. The larger, more comfortable sofa was my way of getting my way without any more debates on the topic.

Besides, the stereo was better in here.

“Bri?”

“Hmm?” He was playing with my hair. I smiled. If I ever had to cut it short again, for a movie or something, it would really put a crimp in our love life.

“You still haven’t told me what had you so down.”

His hand stilled. He rolled over to lean up on his arms.

“I thought we’d just skip....” He saw the look I was giving him and gave up on that line of bull. I pulled him close again and brushed his hair back from his face.

“Come on, you can talk to me about it, can’t you? I kind of thought we were friends in addition to being amazing lovers.”

****************
 

“I kind of thought we were friends in addition to being amazing lovers.”

Danny gave me one of his dimpled smiles and caressed my face so tenderly that if I weren’t such a tough guy, I probably would have put my head back down on his broad shoulder and cried. Even being a tough guy, I was giving it some serious thought.

I compromised by holding back on the tears but taking advantage of the broad manly shoulder there for my sole use.

“Yeah, we’re friends. I’m beginning to think you’re my only one left.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he asked, “Lindsay’s going away again, isn’t she?”

I started in surprise. “How did you know?” I sat up but he pulled me back down onto his chest and started rubbing my back.

He spoke quietly. “Gus and I had a long talk yesterday. He asked me where Florence was. Once we established that Florence was a place and not a person, I found out that he’d heard his Mom talking to her friend Sam on the phone...more than once...and that he’d heard some discussions that had him worried. I reassured him that you wouldn’t let him be taken anywhere he didn’t want to go, and incidentally, that his Mama wouldn’t let him be taken away either. Sorry if I butted in where I shouldn’t have, but he was really anxious so I wanted to give him some reassurance. He didn’t want me saying anything to anyone because he had been eavesdropping. Mind you, to some extent, I just put two and two together to reach the conclusions that I did, but it certainly seemed to add up to four.” I nodded as Danny looked at me anxiously. Poor Gus, I was going to have to have a long talk with him. He adored Lindsay. Danny was watching me closely.

“Go on. Any other ‘clues’ for you to put together?”

“Well, there was the fact that your Fairy Princess had her tits in a twist because Briana’s appointment was going to make her later today than she’d anticipated, which one would think shouldn’t make a difference to a non-working parent, but apparently Lindsay had somewhere she had to be by a certain time. Or so she told the dentist’s office. They told me that she had tried getting them to move all three kids to another time slot but they couldn’t so Lindsay moved JR’s appointment to another day, something she didn’t bother telling Mel. That left only Gus’ and Briana’s to go to. Of course, it would be even better if she could dump Briana on me, which is what happened when she caused the scene with my little darling, who fell for it like a sucker. She’ll be so annoyed with herself for being played if she finds that Lindsay wanted her to act out like that.” He shook his head. “But, when I called the house to discuss the situation with Lindsay, and also to make Briana apologize, Mary Pat said she wasn’t home. She’d dropped the two kids off with her and gone back out again – before Mel got home. But she wasn’t with Mel because Mary Pat knew that Mel was working late at John’s office. But I happen to know that Sam Auerbach is in town, so it makes sense that Lindsay was meeting him.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “So when did you figure all of this out, Sherlock?”

He shrugged. “Some of it, like the fact that Lindsay is leaving, I’m still just guessing. But am I right? I knew that Sam Auerbach is in town again. I got that from Mary Pat, who heard it from Corinne, who heard it from Mel, who was told by some malicious bitch at the GLC, but Mel is playing it cool. It is an educated guess that Lindsay was meeting a man because Briana said that Gus’s mommy was dressed too pretty to go to the dentist, so where were they really going? Briana may be difficult, but you can’t deny she’s bright.”

I didn’t. Deny it, that was. And come to think of it, she made a good point. Lindz had been dressed up far too much for a simple outing to the dentist. If Mel had seen her she would have smelled a rat in thirty seconds. I sighed. Danny hugged me closer.

“Bri, you do know, that besides me, you’ve got a million O’Keefe's to count as your friends now, don’t you? We’re annoying but we’re damn loyal. We’re here for you and Gus. Hell, even Mel gets our protection by virtue of her connection to Gus, and her kind of connection to Mary Pat, whatever the fuck it is...and God knows I don’t want to know the details of it.” He grinned at me, then sobered. “Lindsay is throwing away a good thing, does she realize? I don’t just mean the army of green-eyed, black-haired people to do her bidding, if only she could become human, though she shouldn’t toss that away lightly. I mean that fantastic little boy in your image, and you, the best friend a person, male or female, anyone could ever have. She is a very silly woman, I think.”

I hugged him back. “I appreciate your support, and the army behind you, even if she is incapable of valuing it. And no, Lindz didn’t tell me her plans, her beau did. Auerbach is offering her an escape from what he called the drudgery of forever. The boredom of being a wife and mother.” With his warm arms around me, I found I did want to talk about it, even though when I first got home, all I wanted to do was hide and lick my wounds. I found that I was angry at Lindsay, a lot angrier than I’d realized. “At first, I rejected a lot of what Auerbach was saying, but the more I think about it, the more I look back over the past couple of years and think, yeah, he’s right. Lindz is tired of the whole family thing. She claimed it was one thing or another, but it wasn’t, it was the whole package. But the funny thing is, being a wife and mother is exactly what Lindz always claimed to want. Mel didn’t force her to stay home with the kids, Lindz begged to be able to stay home. Mel had to work extra hard to enable her to do that after Gus was born. She had to swallow her pride and take my money, which I can tell you, she didn’t want to do, but she did it because she loved Lindsay and wanted her to be happy. Now....”

“Now, Lindsay wants something else and she is going to get it. To hell with what she wanted yesterday. I know the type well,” Danny said calmly. “I am sorry, Brian, but I think Gus, and yes, JR too, will be better off without her. Already those kids try so hard to win her approval and maybe it’s due to the damage done by her parents, but Lindsay doesn’t know how to give it. Nothing it ever good enough for her. You can see it especially with her treatment of the little one. JR has to be prettier and smarter than the other girls and the little sweetheart is, what, four? And Gus, he has to be the best at everything, just like his dad or Mommy is disappointed. Gus is really, really good, but, one, even his dad wasn’t the best at everything, and two, she compares him unfairly to kids who are older and bigger, like John’s boy Jared. I love Gus, you know I do, but he’s not you. He’s dreamier and sweeter. Hell, he’s not like Josh and Jared and that’s not a bad thing! He’s not you either. He doesn’t have your cutthroat, killer competitiveness.”

I had to agree. In fact, Gus was, in some ways, like the young Danny had been. Before life and being gay in a straight world had forced him to become a good bit tougher. Gus was also a lot more introspective than either of us ever were. Perhaps that was Mel’s influence. Or just his own personality.

“But,” Danny continued, “you aren’t losing Lindsay so much as she lost you, don’t you think? She refuses to see you as the man you are today.” .

“That doesn’t really make it feel any better,” I told him. “I wish you had known her as she used to be, the way it was between us. When I first went away to college, I met Lindsay the very first week, and I couldn’t believe that this tall, beautiful girl was willing to spend time with me. Not only that, but once she found out I was gay, it was no big deal. She was still just as interested in me, the scholarship kid from Pittsburgh with no money and no car, and along with your brother, became one of the few people I could count on.”

Danny laughed quietly to himself.

“What’s so funny?” I was slightly hurt.

“Oh, mo gra’, don’t be upset with me. I’m not laughing at you, I’m really not. I’m laughing at the memory of you at seventeen and eighteen, how you were the most incredibly beautiful creature God ever made. Gay or not, I’m sure any girl would want to be seen with you, and in addition, you were always so funny and witty, how could anyone not want to be your friend? But you just made me realize again how we males can always be insecure, even the most confident seeming of us. John once told me he threw up before asking Micky out the first time and even Jamie used to be sure that the pretty girls laughed at him for being too tall.”

“So it isn’t easy being beautiful?” I asked.

“Well, Hunter assures me it beats the alternatives, and I tend to agree with him, not that I think Hunter is all that bad looking but....”

“But, we don’t need to get distracted down that path,” I said firmly. I could tell when Danny was just trying to change the topic to something that wouldn’t bring me down. But, now that he’d gotten me talking, I felt like getting it all out. I tipped my head back so I could look at him.

“The thing is, Danny, that once I left school, I got used to parceling pieces of myself out. Lindsay got the part of me that read books and plays and was, for want of a better word, cultured. Mikey got the fun, childish part of me, that loved comic books and acted silly. They got the lion’s share of my caring. Tricks got sex. My other so-called friends, Ted, Emmett, they got whatever was left after work, which was mainly sarcasm. You can see where, with Mikey being off in his own little life now, losing Lindsay feels like losing one more big chunk of my past.”

“But it wasn’t quite like that,” he said quietly. “You’ve left out some of the biggest factors. You always had Debbie, and you had Vic, you know you did, always there rooting for you and cherishing you like you were their own. And for a while, you were part of our family. You could have stayed coming to our house, you know. It was your choice to stop. But for four years, you were like another O’Keefe brother. But there is another really big piece of Kinney history that you’re leaving out that if you’re doing it for me, you don’t have to.” He kissed me then held my face in his hands as he looked at me.

“You had Justin in your life for five years, sharing, growing, loving. You both changed each other, and the impact you had on each other’s lives isn’t diminished because you aren’t together now. You’ll always mean something to each other...I accept that so you don’t have to pretend it isn’t there.”

His face was serious. “But don’t let that get you thinking of more that you’ve lost. Justin isn’t lost to you, no more than Michael is. Your relationship with them is just different now. It’s evolved as you have, and they’re getting adjusted to that. More or less. For all that you’ve lost, you’ve gotten something back, mo gra’. You have that army of green-eyed people I was mentioning, some of whom would die for you, and you know it for a fact. You have that boy of yours, who is the most incredible kid in the world, and now he really is part of your life, not just some genetic imprint of you. While Michael may not be as close as he used to be, you have real friends in Emmett and Ted, closer than they ever were, and I think you value them more, which is as it should be. I can’t think of many people I value more than Em. You are so blessed with people who really love you and accept you as you are that for all that losing Lindsay hurts, and I don’t doubt that it does, I’m kind of more sorry for her because she is losing out on a beautiful friend and what could be a good life for her here, because she can’t be happy with what she has.”

Danny’s hands continued to stroke over my back, much as his words flowed over my mind, both soothing me. I struggled with the right words to answer him.

“Hush,” the deep voice whispered. “Let’s just rest for a bit. We can always talk more later, mo gra.’ Let me hold you now.”

I closed my eyes. This was one of those times it felt good to be held.
 

****************
 

“You have to fucking be kidding me. Why are we having a birthday party here? That’s what the big house is for, for crying out loud!” Danny was throwing himself into a chair at the table and glaring at his brother. Emmett was putting a glass of juice in front of him but I grabbed it as I walked past. Em tried slapping my hand but Danny just laughed and shook him off as he lifted his face for a kiss.

“What’s the crisis this morning? Who’s birthday is it? Not yours, John? I could have sworn you were a spring baby, like me.” I hooked a chair over with my foot and sat next to Danny. I made a face at his egg white omelet and grabbed a piece of bacon from the plate near John. He rolled his eyes.

“Would you mind cooking the mooch some breakfast, Em? That way he won’t have to steal my breakfast.”

“Well, it is our house,” Danny pointed out.

John put on this pout. “You begrudge me breakfast?”

“No, I begrudge you the backyard for all of the rugrats and Em’s time cooking and baking all afternoon because I know that’s who will end up doing it, and I begrudge my time playing the games because you’ll rope me into playing with them because you’ll lose your temper within about ten minutes and....”

“Fine. It was a bad idea. So you want me to tell Jared he can’t have a birthday party after all? I’m sure he’ll understand. He’s a good kid that way. I’ll just tell him that his Uncle Danny, whom he thinks hung the moon and stars, doesn’t want a bunch of kids hanging around outside his townhouse ... where his dad just happens to share the yard and pool along with a couple dozen other people, but hey, whatever Uncle Danny wants.”

Danny groaned and banged his head down on the table. Em and I grinned at each other.

“You know, John, I really think you missed your true calling. You could have made quite an actor too,” Emmett told the big guy as he reached into the refrigerator for more eggs. “Omelet or sunny side up, Brian?”

“Two over easy please, Em. And a few pieces of bacon?”

“No problem. How about you, John? Since I have the eggs out again, are you ready for seconds?”

John tilted his head considering. “Yeah, a couple, thanks. And some more bacon would be good.”

Danny picked his head up and stared at him incredulously.

“Some day your metabolism will finally realize you hit middle age and you will explode into this huge porker,” he warned. “I can’t believe you can eat that much in the morning. You didn’t even exercise.”

“I weigh the same thing now as I did in college,” John said smugly. “If I didn’t eat this much I would waste away.”

“I hate you,” Danny told him fervently.

“If you didn’t eat so much chocolate, you wouldn’t have to eat like an anorexic model the rest of the time,” John told him.

“He really doesn’t...eat that much chocolate, that is,” Emmett interjected. “He is a bit of an anorexic model.” Danny glared at him and he held up his spatula placatingly. “Just a bit, baby, not a lot. You have to admit that you tend to avoid food when you get neurotic about something. Like yesterday when you were freaking out about Briana and that dentist appointment, I practically had to force feed you. And then when you were obsessing over that balloon ad you thought you might have to do and asked me if I thought it was because you were getting fat like a balloon. You have to admit that was pretty neur...”

Danny had pushed a bagel into Em’s mouth to shut him up.

John looked at him, an evil grin in his face. “You? In a balloon ad? That would be precious! Would you wear a clown suit and a big red nose?”

Danny jumped up. “John, I thought you wanted me to get the yard ready for Jared’s party? There’s a lot to be done if this place is to be ready by noon. Em, if you send me a shopping list by text message, I’ll get it while I’m out. I’ll run to the party store now with Briana and get the supplies. Naruto, right?”

John smiled a genuine smile. “Thanks, bro. I appreciate it. Micky has to keep off her feet and there’s something going on over at the big house it seems. Whatever it is, Mary Pat hinted that it wasn’t a good idea to move everything to there. So with Carole canceling at the last minute like this, I kind of have no choice but to try to throw the little guy’s party and you’re a lot better at this kind of thing than I am. Joey said he’d help ferry the guests over here but he can’t stay so I just need help with games and feeding them and ....”

“And not killing them for three hours. Gotcha. For Jared, we can do this. Right, Em, party planner extraordinary?”

“I have a better idea,” Em told him, as he placed two plates on the table, one in front of me with a perfectly cooked breakfast and a second in front of John. “Let me just run to my room to powder my nose and I’ll rush along Princess Briana, and we’ll all go together. That way Brian can have a quiet morning to relax before the hordes descend and John can get the outside ready. I suggest he set up some volleyball and soccer nets in the playing areas and make the arrangements with the pool staff for the guests to be able to swim in the Association pool. That way, if they have the names now, it will save someone having to go down later. I also suggest he get the music ready now and that way Danny’s music room can be made off-limits to all guests later.”

John looked at me. “He’s good at this, isn’t he?”

I nodded as I ate. “The hostess with the mostest,” I said as soon as I swallowed.

Before he left the room to join Emmett, Danny wrapped his arms around me from behind. Bending his head close to mine, he spoke low, for my ears only.

“Tell me if you need total peace and quiet to work today, Bri, and I’ll work something else out with John for Jared. Mom’s house is mine as much as Mary Pat’s, technically, it’s all mine, and there is no reason why in that huge place there can’t be room for a little kid’s party when John needs it. I know you don’t like all this family stuff.”

“It’s no big deal. I can lock myself in the music room if it gets too noisy...you do trust me in it, right?” His relieved smile was answer enough. I kissed him and gave him a swat on the ass to send him on his way. I suspected the problem at the big O’Keefe house was likely related to Lindsay and Mel so I felt in some part responsible for John not being able to use the family homestead for his youngest son’s party. Since Gus was invited to the party, I would probably find out if Lindsay had dropped her bombshell.

Once the three of them were off on their shopping trip, John and I moved to the deck to enjoy a final cup of coffee before moving on to our assigned tasks, mine to work on the Gunnarson campaign and him to work on project birthday party.

“So, what’s going on with this new campaign?” he asked me. “I understand from my spy that someone wants the Dark Angel to sell toy balloons. Can that be right? As attorney for the Dark Angel brand, I have to tell you...I find that funny as fuck all.” He grinned at me over his coffee mug. John was in a lot better mood now that his son’s birthday party problem was solved.

I raised an eyebrow. “Spy? Emmett is a pathetic spy. Surely you can do better than him.”

He laughed. “Actually, I can. This time my spy is the lovely Cynthia.” He nodded at my surprise. “I thought that would surprise you. She called to inquire about the consent clause in the Dark Angel contract. She asked exactly what authority Danny retained. I have to tell you, I was a bit harsh with her. I don’t think she meant any harm, but Danny would be pissed as hell if he knew that she did that. Now I haven’t said anything to him yet, but I have to, he doesn’t like secrets and I have an obligation to him as his lawyer, even if I didn’t as his brother. Of course, I don’t think she was checking into this at your request, since I don’t think you would go through her to ask me, even if you weren’t capable of reading and understanding his contract on your own. So, what gives? Funny as I might find a balloon festooned Dark Angel in one sense, it really isn’t funny.” All of the humor had left John’s expression.

I frowned. I wasn’t too pleased myself as I considered the implications. “Fuck.” I got up and went to my briefcase to retrieve the Gunnarson contract. “Damn it!” I tossed the contract down.

“What is it, Brian?” John had followed me inside from the deck.

“Cynthia went insane. For a balloon man.” I showed John the contract.

He scanned it quickly, then flipped back to the beginning. He whistled.

“Danny will not be happy about this, although the money is nice. Is Cynthia hurting for money that she would want to bring in this account so badly?”

“No,” I shook my head impatiently. “It had nothing to do with the money. She is enamored with the company itself. The history of it. She doesn’t want to see it fail. In all fairness, she made the grandson idiot pay what a campaign of this magnitude is worth, but what she really wants is for me to put my best efforts into saving it. I don’t take many new clients anymore, especially with my new focus on the movie work. Cynthia must have decided that this campaign needed my special touch while the client came in with the idea that he wanted a Kinney ad, but more particularly, he wanted a Dark Angel ad. So, I think what she wants and what Gunnarson Junior wants are not necessarily the same thing. He wants a Kinney campaign because he believes that a Kinney ad is based on selling with sex, and a Dark Angel ad is the epitome of a sexy ad, therefore, he is set on having a Dark Angel ad, accept no substitutes. What I think Cynthia is doing, in a devious, risky way, is motivating me to work on this campaign personally and come up with a knock out ad for this company that satisfies the client by making the default ad a Dark Angel ad.”

“By forcing Danny’s Dark Angel persona into an inappropriate venue? How does that help?”

I shook my head again. “No, think about it. I don’t have permission to use Danny in this ad, but she’s contracted Kinnetik to deliver him if the client wants him...so what do I have to do?”

John narrowed his eyes and bit his bottom lip. Damn, he looked a hell of a lot like Danny when he did that. Or Danny looked like him, I guessed was the more accurate way to think of it. Either way, the man was hot.

“You have to come up with a campaign that blows their minds...and does it without the Dark Angel.”

“Right.”

“Well, the part about doing it without the Dark Angel being involved should be easy,” he smiled. “I can’t really see....unless.....” He paused.

I looked at him. “I won’t put the Dark Angel in a balloon company ad. Danny is justifiably protective of that image. He turns down a ton of product work for being inappropriate for it. I am not going to suggest he do this ad....”

“No, no, that wasn’t it. I was just noticing the wording of the contract. It doesn’t use the standard trademark language for the Dark Angel ‘brand’ that we’ve developed, actually. I was wondering if Cynthia did that on purpose or if she made a mistake. Mel wouldn’t have made that mistake if she were drawing the contract up for you but now that she’s doing work for us, she’s conflicted out of any work that would involve you doing third party work where there’s a Dark Angel contract also, unless there’s a contract waiver....”

“Before my eyes glaze over any further, can you please get to the point and skip the mumbo jumbo,” I begged. “What is the bottom line...if you can tell me without compromising your high legal ethics, that is, almost brother-in-law.”

He looked up from the contract and smirked. “Whoever modified this from Danny’s form “Dark Angel” contract messed up, either accidentally or on purpose. You could satisfy this contract by using Danny O’Keefe, not the Dark Angel. I understand they look a lot alike. Maybe your client will be just as happy and the brand won’t be harmed.”

I stared. It was so simple it was brilliant. I grabbed the contract away from him and stared at it. He was right. It read “Danny O’Keefe, aka Dark Angel” not model Danny O’Keefe, (Dark Angel™) as his contracts always read when he assumed the persona of the Dark Angel in the campaign. There were other conditions that were supposed to be in the contract, such as the percentage to be given to Angel’s foundation, none of which were included here. This wasn’t a proper Dark Angel contract, yet the money charged for it was. Cynthia had a lot of explaining to do.

“Well,” John said, bringing my attention back to the present. “I need to get to work on this party and you need to get to work on...balloons.” He snapped his fingers. “You know what? I think they forgot to add balloons to their list earlier. No doubt a Freudian slip. Do you think you could use your connections and get some for us?” John looked wistful for a moment. “We used to have some of the best water balloon fights when we were kids. Can’t you just see bombarding Joey and Danny from the deck with a few dozen water balloons? We’d drown them before they could launch a counter attack!”

John looked all of ten himself as he rubbed his hands together and plotted. I couldn’t help laughing at him. Even the most serious of the O’Keefe brothers was a big kid at heart given the right circumstances. And the right circumstances was any chance to get one over on one or more of his other brothers. I pushed him toward the door. He made a detour toward the kitchen to grab some more coffee.

“I’ll see what I can do. Actually, if you’d seen what old Mr. Gunnarson could do with these balloons, you’d really want him at your kid’s party. He’s amazing. He was able to make balloon animals that looked like they came right out of the zoo. I wonder if kids today would like something like that?”

“Balloons mean a good time. They’re like toy trucks and blocks. Some things never go out of style,” John said as he placed his coffee mug in the dishwasher. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll see you in a bit. Good luck with your campaign.”

I waved him off, already caught up in my thoughts, which were swirling around what he said.

Balloons are always fun...like toy trucks and blocks...some things never go out of style. No, like water fights and balloon animals, good times never go out of style. I reached for my laptop...and my cell phone.

“Cynthia? Get Gunnarson on the phone for me. The grandfather. After I finish talking to him you can explain to me a few things about their contract, but right now, I want you to help me talk Albert into coming to a nine year old’s birthday party. Actually, I guess it’s a ten year old’s birthday party. Young Jared is ten today and we’re gonna have a good time.”

****************

The usual suspects were gathered in the conference room for the Gunnarson Balloon Company campaign presentation. In addition to Albert and Frank Gunnarson, two more members of the family business were present, both middle-aged men who were introduced as sons of Albert’s. Leo and William, they were involved in the production side of the business and didn’t appear to be too happy with how their nephew was handling things, by my read of matters. No doubt his willingness to pour a good bit of capital into advertising wasn’t pleasing to them, money that they’d rather see put back into equipment or even disbursements. I could understand their reasoning. To them, I would need to make a convincing argument that their investment would produce increased revenue.

Theodore and Cynthia sat at my left and right, ready to do my bidding. For once, Cynthia was looking more cowed than Ted. She’d been avoiding being alone with me since the weekend when she brought Albert over to Danny’s place. I’d sent her away, much to her chagrin. I promised that I would ensure Albert’s safe return to his home then shooed her off. If she’d been a cat, the curiosity would have killed her.

I’d invited John O’Keefe to sit in on the presentation, just in case I needed a calm voice of reason, especially if my personal dark angel didn’t like the campaign. Speaking of angels, Danny arrived last, looking breathtakingly gorgeous in his trademark black and white. Of course, it took a little bit of the wind out of his sails when upon his arrival, one of the sons turned to the other and asked in a stage whisper, “Is that what we’re paying a fortune for? A guy with long hair who can’t button his shirt all the way?”

Ted and John snickered while Frank Gunnarson glared at them. Danny ignored the comment and walked over to Albert.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Albert. I hope you’re pleased with the campaign Brian has developed for you. I haven’t seen it yet but I’m sure it’s exactly what your company needs.”

Albert’s eyes twinkled...they really did, like some demented Santa Claus...and he motioned for Danny to sit with him.

“Please, sit by me, Danny, my boy. I’ll introduce you to my rude sons later. For now, let’s get started, shall we, Brian?”

“Certainly, Albert. Cynthia, if you will start the demo commercial.”

She lowered the lights and the screen opened to the sound of laughter. Children were running around, squealing as they ran from each other, the water balloons flying. The music playing in the background was the type of hurdy gurdy music you’d hear from a carnival barker. The voice over was done by Danny, in his deep resonant tones, like an old time radio announcer. After saying that Gunnarson balloons are for the good times with the opening scene of the kids having a ball with the balloons, the script says that Gunnarson’s has been providing the good times since “your grandfather was a kid,” and for this part the commercial shows Albert making balloon animals for a group of wide-eyed kids, Albert dressed in his courtly old time clothes, churning out his monkeys and giraffes and bears. But the real clincher of the commercial, the Kinney touch, was the ending, when Danny says, “Gunnarson balloons, good times never go out of style,” and it seems as though the little kids are all grown up because the video is of adults, throwing water balloons, and having a great time. Of course, what it was, was Danny, John and me, among others, in the place of Jared, Josh and Gus, and the other kids. With the focus on the two trios who bore such a resemblance to each other, it was damn effective at simulating the passage of time. Much as I disliked being in an ad myself, with the soft focus, and I was careful to keep Danny in the foreground since he was the professional, and no one besides me really knowing it was being shot at the time, though I was careful to get releases after the fact, it worked especially well.

With Danny in the foreground getting pounded by what looked like thousands of balloons and having tons of fun in the process, the commercial had the sought after sex appeal without losing the family friendly demographic. I’d arranged for Em to shoot the footage and he did a good job with it. Something about the three of us being shirtless and our jeans soaked no doubt inspired him.

The party had been a great success. Albert had been delighted to come over and “brainstorm” with me. He also brought cases of balloons as well as a couple canisters of helium for inflating the balloons he directed Emmett and Julie to use to decorate the townhouse association’s pavilion, which was located close by. With a group of suburban kids used to the latest in high tech video games, Albert and Danny managed to charm them with a combination of balloon animals and good old-fashioned party games, as well as plenty of great tasting food. I think for me, one of the real highlights of the day had been when Carole O’Keefe, John’s ex, had stopped by, deigning to visit her son after almost ruining the kid’s birthday by canceling her plans for his party at the last minute. She claimed she wanted to “make it up to Jared” and offered to take him to dinner at Pappagano’s with one or two of his special little friends. She had a date waiting for her in the car and was dressed to kill.

Danny pretended to be aiming for his brother John with a large water balloon and “accidentally” hit his former sister-in-law square in her surgically enhanced chest. Of course, it didn’t help his claim of innocence that he yelled “duck” to his brother right after he let fly with the balloon.

It’s a wonder that woman’s shriek didn’t break all the glass in our kitchen, Em observed.

Carole was doubly annoyed when Jared told her he didn’t want to go to dinner with her anyway; he was having too much fun with his Dad. She stood there, dripping in her designer dress while he dashed back to where the other boys were trying to chase down Danny in an impromptu game of tackle the Uncle. Emmett, always kind, found Carole a towel and even managed to fix her dress so she could rejoin her date in somewhat respectable shape.

Watching, it made me feel a little more hopeful about my own son and his impending loss. Jared and Josh had coped, and Gus would too. I promised myself that I would find some time to sit down with my son and make sure he knew he had me to count on, no matter what.

When the spot finished, I turned towards Frank Gunnarson. “This is just a sample of what could be done, not the finished product. I propose using a web campaign and a series of magazine and TV spots promoting the timeless quality of Gunnarson balloons. It’s a baby boomer world, use that, build on it. We’ve all played with your family’s balloons as kids and we all want to relive our childhood. You don’t need to make it sexy, it already can be as sexy as a wet t-shirt, or as sweet and innocent as a balloon animal. Why leave any part of that out? You don’t want the Dark Angel in your campaign, when you can use something better, the innocence of children, and the fantastic quality of your own Albert Gunnarson.”

“Papa, you can be in the advertising? With your balloon animals? That is a wonderful idea! You are Gunnarson’s!” The older son was smiling. I was surprised, I really thought he’d object.

“But, but....” Frank Gunnarson was confused. He looked from his grandfather to Danny...and to the strikingly handsome John O’Keefe.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Gunnarson?” John lifted a slim eyebrow. He was impeccably dressed in one of his more conservative Lauren suits so it was difficult to be sure that he was the laughing man from the commercial. Hell, I knew he was and still couldn’t believe it.

“But that was the Dark Angel in that commercial? Wasn’t it? And weren’t you in it? And those children? They looked like miniature Dark Angels .... How?”

Poor guy, he had everyone smiling at him patronizingly like he was Dorothy waking up at the end of the Wizard of Oz.

“I’m sorry, we should have been introduced. I’m John O’Keefe, attorney for Danny O’Keefe and yes, we’re brothers but I assure you, I’ve never been mistaken for the Dark Angel.” John made it sound like he had been accused of cross-dressing. With Danny at his smoldering Dark Angel best...or worst, depending on your viewpoint...it wasn’t far from the same thing, I supposed.

“This brother of mine has never modeled,” Danny purred, looking at Frank like he was lunch. “Something about taking his clothes off for money is...distasteful...to him.” I almost choked when Danny licked his lips at the older of the two sons. He was really going over the top on this.

“I should hope so!” the other son exploded. The one Danny was hitting on looked too afraid to say anything. Or too interested. It would be just his luck if the guy decided he was interested, I thought, amused.

Time to wrap this one up. I brought my hands together briskly.

“Well, John is here to work out all of the contract details. Albert, Frank, if you like this, you can work out the paperwork with John. Cynthia, you will let John have the preliminary paperwork you drew up and he will go from there. Gentlemen, I think you will be pleased with the adjustments that John will be proposing to the costs. Theodore will assist with budget questions. Danny, stop scaring the clients and come with me...now, please.”
 

****************
 

Of course, the exit was not quite as smooth as that, but it was close. Soon, I had Danny pulled into my office with the door locked against all intruders. No sooner had I started attacking him, however, than he bent over double, then he fell to his knees, shaking, his face hidden by his hair.

“Danny! Are you okay?”

I kneeled in front of him and grabbed him by the shoulders, trying to see what was wrong.

“Bri..” He was gasping.

“Do you need a doctor? What’s wrong? Can’t you breathe?”

He fell onto his back and pulled me down to the floor on top of him. From that perspective I could see that fully half of my office, from my desk back, was filled with balloons...very suggestive shaped balloons. Large, suggestive, shaped balloons. I joined Danny in laughing as I surveyed the various sizes of the dildo shaped balloons bobbing against each other. There were literally hundreds.

“So,” he asked, laughter still making his voice shake as we laid flat on our backs and contemplated the colorful sight. “Who do you think you have to thank for this lovely present?”

“If it weren’t for the fact that these look to be filled with helium, I could imagine Honeycutt blowing all of these...can’t you?” I dead-panned, making him crack up again.

“Well, this does give us the chance to test one theory, you know,” he mused, after he composed himself...and I batted a particularly large purple polka-dotted one away with a red and yellow striped double-headed beauty.

“What would that be? How many balloon dildos does it takes to make Ted die of jealousy?”

“No, we’re not sharing these!” Danny stood up and checked to make sure the door was locked. He walked behind a large cluster of balloons and disappeared from sight.

Until an arm came out, tossing the white shirt at me.

“We can test to see if there is any way the Dark Angel can make balloons sexy....”

“I’ll take that bet.”

By the time the black thong came flying toward me and he was still managing to hide behind the damn balloons, I was ready. With my letter opener.

Who would have thought you could have so much fun with balloons?
 

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