Compromising Positions

Part 2

 

Justin looked out of the passenger window, while his mother piddled along at an old lady’s pace. Obviously Jennifer wasn’t aware of the urgency of the situation. Justin had to get to Tony before Brian did. Earlier that morning, Brian had committed the cardinal sin. One thing you DON’T do is embarrass Anthony Massey in front of a business associate. Brian’s no-show, following Tony’s pitch, and ultimate win over Mr. Brentwood was like a slap in the face that would surely earn the chewing of a new asshole for Justin’s other husband. That withstanding, Brian was not likely to sit by and allow Tony to take his anger out on him. Indeed, World War III was imminent, and the only person able to stop it was stuck in lunch hour traffic with his mother.

“Mom, can’t you drive any faster?” Justin pleaded.

“Safety first,” Jennifer said.

The staff at The Plaza Hotel was walking on eggshells. It wasn’t often that their boss was in a foul mood, but when he was, everyone knew to steer clear. The dead giveaway was when Tony snapped at his longtime personal assistant, Everlee.

“The people from Michelin are here,” she said.

“Who?” Tony barked.

“The Michelin Guide, the one that rates restaurants, the one that just gave The Gazebo its top, three star rating. They’re here to meet with you, and make arrangements to photograph The Plaza for their 2008 issue,” Everlee reminded him.

“Shit!” Following the earlier morning’s fiasco, the last people Tony wanted to entertain were a bunch of highbrow, culinary bastards. Right now, as far as he was concerned, they could take their restaurant guide, and their Foie Gras, and stick it up their snooty asses. “Give me a minute before you send them in,” Tony said.

“Yes sir.” Everlee turned, and exited the office.

Tony adjusted his tie, straightened out his suit jacket, and put on his best business face to greet his guests.

“Hi.” Brian stepped inside Tony’s office, and closed the door behind him.

“You?” Tony couldn’t believe his eyes.

“In the flesh.” Brian smiled.

“How the hell did you get in here? How did you get past Everlee?” Tony wanted to know.

“I’m your husband. We’re married, remember?” Brian said.

“Not for long,” Tony assured him. “Now go away, I have business to attend to, just like I had business to attend to this morning, when you didn’t show up! Do you know what an ass I looked like after talking Mr. Brentwood into allowing us to move into Brentwood Hills, then talking him down another million off his asking price?”

“I’m sorry.” Brian said.

“You’re damn right you’re sorry, you neurotic, bi-polar, son-of-a-bitch. I’m done dealing with your issues. Now get out! I need to finish up here. I have a plane to catch,” Tony said.

“That’s so like you.” Brian smirked. “Whenever things don’t go your way, you hop in your plane, and fly off to your next project.”

“It’s called business, Brian. My time is money, and once again, you’re wasting it.” Tony looked at his watch, then leaned back casually against his desk. “You’ve got five minutes, before I throw you out of here,” he said.

“I won’t need five minutes,” Brian assured him. “Not everyone thinks like you Tony. You see a place like Brentwood Hills, and feel entitled to be there. I see Brentwood Hills, and see the last place I’d want to be.”

“That’s not what you said when Jennifer showed us the house. You and Justin both said you LOVED it!” Tony reminded him.

“That was before I found out that you had to convince Mr. Brentwood into allowing “our kind” to move into his precious, gated community. What you don’t seem to understand, Tony, is that it doesn’t matter how much money we have, we’ll always be the token fags on the block. Every party we throw, every visitor we have over will be scrutinized, subject to prying eyes, and the neighbor’s approval. And what about Gus? IF any of the other children are allowed to play with him, he’ll be singled out as the kid with the fag fathers. Oh, and while we’re on the subject of discrimination, I haven’t noticed any color in Brentwood Hills. Have you? Does Mr. Brentwood know you’re black? I thought about it, and no thanks, Tony. I’d rather live in a flop-house on Liberty Avenue, than a mansion in Brentwood Hills.” Brian looked at his watch. “See, that only took three minutes,” he said.

Tony was uncharacteristically, momentarily at a lost for words. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Brian,” he finally admitted. “All I know is that I want to make you happy, you and Justin, and Tiger, and the only way I know how to do that is to give you the very best that I can afford. How are we going to make this work, Brian? I don’t want to lose my family. You’re going to have to help me.”

Brian took note of the tears welling in Tony’s brown eyes. For all of their verbal and physical altercations, battles with the police, the press, Mayor Stockwell’s camp, and Tony’s own physical challenges, this was the first time Brian had ever seen Justin’s steadfast lion so visibly moved. Brian walked over to Tony, then reached up, and stroked his fingers through Tony’s hair, past his ears, and down along the side of his face. “It’s not easy being the strong one all the time,” Brian whispered. “Why don’t you let me be “daddy” for awhile? Don’t worry; I’ll take care of our living situation.”

 

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Everlee smiled at the three representatives from the prestigious Michelin Guide. “I’m so sorry about the wait. I’m sure Mr. Massey will be with you shortly. May I offer you something to drink?” she asked.

“No thank you,” one of the stone faced gentlemen said.

“The Plaza is very honored that you have included our Gazebo restaurant in your guide this year.” Everlee attempted to make small talk.

“Indeed?” the same stone faced gentleman said.

“Everlee, is Brian here?” Justin came bursting through the door.

Before Everlee could answer, the loud noise of falling items could be heard coming from inside Tony’s office. Justin feared that he was too late. Tony and Brian had already come to blows. Suddenly voices could be heard coming from the speaker phone…………

“Oh shit, fuck me!”

Justin recognized Tony’s voice.

“Like that? You like it like that?” Brian’s voice could now be heard, followed by a loud smack. “Bad boy. You want me to spank that ass?”

“Spank me, daddy,” Tony groaned……………………………..

Everlee froze like a deer in the headlights. Always one to remain cool, she again looked over at the Michelin group. “Ahhh, I’m so sorry gentlemen. This is obviously a family emergency. Justin, why don’t you go inside, and see if you can be of any assistance,” she suggested.

“Assistance?” Justin smiled.

“Harder…fuck me harder!” Tony’s voice rang out.

“Excuse me.” Everlee hurried over to Tony’s door, and gently knocked. “Mr. Massey.”

The sounds of passion immediately stopped. “Yes, Everlee,” Tony answered.

“Sir, would you please turn off your speakerphone?” she said.

Everlee, Justin, and the three Michelin Group representatives waited in awkward silence as Brian, and Tony could still be heard fumbling about Tony’s office through the speakerphone that had been knocked to the floor in Brian’s haste to make fucking space on Tony’s desk. Finally Tony opened his office door. “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he said, as if nothing had happened.

The three men looked over at Brian, who waved sheepishly, then back at Justin who was now grinning from ear to ear.

“Everlee, I think we’ll have that drink now,” the stoned faced gentleman said.


NEXT WEEK: Golddigger

 

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