Dirty Dining (10 page)

“About thirteen hundred.” Jeremy shrugged as he stuffed them into his backpack.

“Fuck. You earned that much in a week, for serving at two dinners?”

Jeremy sucked in a breath. “No, just for tonight.”

“What did you have to do for this much cash?” Doug shook his head and put his hands over his ears. “Don’t tell me. I don’t think I can handle the truth.”

Jeremy pulled one hand away. “The guy took my clothes off, like usual. This time I kissed another serving guy and just touched him some.”

“That seems like a lot of money for playing with a guy’s cock.” Doug stared Jeremy down.

Jeremy didn’t reply, debating how much to reveal. “Then, my gentleman, uh, jerked me off while everyone else watched.” He stared back at Doug, waiting for the inevitable disgust.

“Okay, then. It’s still a lot of green for a hand job. Nothin’ that hasn’t happened before, just maybe not in public.” Doug glanced up at Jeremy. “Has it? In public, I mean? Oh, sorry, none of my business.”

“No. Not in public for someone else’s entertainment.” Jeremy paused. “It was kind of embarrassing, actually.”

“Then you
earned
the money. But what was so embarrassing? Having an audience? Couldn’t you get it up?” Doug grinned.

“Yeah, they liked the goods just fine, thank you. But I don’t think I want to do it again.”

“Really? Even for this much money?”

“Yeah. Especially for this much money. It makes it feel really wrong.”

Doug settled onto the bed, and Jeremy felt grateful. He needed to talk about this, and he trusted Doug.

“Did you enjoy what he did, Jer?”

“Yeah, that’s part of it. It felt good. In some ways, it’s fun going there and playing with the other guys, just throwing away the usual inhibitions. No one forces you to do anything, and the gentlemen want to get you off. They seem to get their own satisfaction out of it.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“It kind of scares me because I liked most of it. Just seems wrong. I wouldn’t tell my mother what I’m doing, and for me, that’s the test.”

“Do you tell your mom sometimes guys suck your dick or you put your dick up another guy’s ass?” Actually, he was more of a bottom, but he wasn’t having that discussion with Doug, ever.

Jeremy sat up straight and shook his head. “Of course not.”

“I rest my case. You don’t tell your mom everything and you shouldn’t.”

“I guess.”

“Okay, clearly there’s more to your dilemma. Just get it out.” He tipped his bottle. “I need a refill. You too? Then we’ll get to the meat of the problem.” Doug left, then returned with two more bottles and settled back down. “Spill the beans, dude.”

“Yeah, there is something else.”

“Some
thing
?” Doug winked.

“Someone. Mr. Green, remember him?”

“How can I forget? You talked about him continuously for two days after the first night.”

Jeremy blinked a couple of times. Had he talked about Green that much? “Well, he was there last night.”

“Oh, nice. Was he the one?” Doug made a jerking-off motion and raised his eyebrows.

“No.”

“And that’s your problem?”

“Yeah, I felt kind of weird with him watching.”

“Jer, dude, he was
watching
. If he didn’t like it, he wouldn’t have come back, right? I still don’t get why you aren’t just laughing all the way to the bank.”

“He told the host he didn’t want me tonight. He wanted someone else.”

“You’re feeling rejected? Would
he
have paid you this much?”

“No, I don’t think so. But he wouldn’t have jerked me off in front of everyone.”

“You said he didn’t do much even when you spent the night together. I’m really confused, Jeremy. I’m not sure if I need more beer, or you do.” Doug broke out laughing but stopped when Jeremy didn’t join in.

“I’m confused too. I felt some kind of… thing with him. Like he was above all the sex play stuff.”

“Jeremy, I’m not sure what advantage there is to a guy who doesn’t want to have sex with you. Did we wake up in a Victorian romance novel or something?”

Jeremy shrugged again. He was a scientist, not an English major. Words weren’t his forte. “I can’t explain it. Like sex is more than these games to him. I know it doesn’t make sense. I-I…. Hell, I don’t know.” Jeremy took a few long pulls at his beer and held the bottle to his chest as he leaned back against the wall. “I’m supposed to work again on Sunday. What should I do?”

“You’re asking me?” Doug shifted his position so he was sitting next to Jeremy. “Give it one more chance. If you don’t enjoy it, then give up. You’ve gotten some money, and you had some fun. Forget about the Green guy. Decide in here—” He touched Jeremy’s head. “—not here.” He touched his chest. “Well, maybe there too.” Doug pointed to Jeremy’s dick. “Two out of three.”

“Okay, two out of three.” Jeremy held up his bottle, and Doug clinked his against it. Then they both drained their bottles.

T
HE
NEXT
morning Brice made it to the office just before eleven. He hadn’t been at his desk five minutes before Ron came in and sat down. He leaned toward the desk and peered at Brice, making him very uncomfortable. He’d checked his appearance twice before he left home, to make sure he didn’t show any signs of his evening activities.

“Well, how’d it go? Or should I ask, how’d it come?” Ron let out a loud bark of a laugh and sat back in the chair. “Seriously, though, news?”

“Cathcart left dinner early, and I haven’t heard from him.”

“Left early? He wasn’t having fun?”

“On the contrary. He was having plenty of fun. He and his server left before dessert. I imagine he’ll call when he gets back to his hotel.”

Ron wiped a hand across his brow dramatically. “Thank God. That club almost always works when the client asks specifically for one of the partners to take him.”

“You’ve taken others there? To the Dinner Club?” Brice raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know Ron swung both ways.

“Well, not the men-only club. They run another one with women servers, also for male clients. I take people there if they ask.”

“Ah. I see. Where do you take the female clients?”

“That shit doesn’t work with them. They’re all business. Look, why don’t you just take the rest of the day off? You look beat.”

Brice sat up straight. “I do?”

“Yeah. Go home early. Unless you hear from Cathcart and he wants to go out again. I’ll need you fighting fit if he does.”

“Oh, please no. Don’t make me take him to go-go bars in the Castro or—”

“Gay go-go bars? You have those?” Ron grinned. “He might have mentioned something about leather….”

Brice got a sinking feeling in his gut. He was
not
taking a client to a leather bar. He’d quit first.

Ron winked.

“You fuckwad.” Brice picked up a Nerf ball and tossed it at Ron’s head.

“Am I missing all the fun?” Watkins stepped into the doorway, the ubiquitous giant coffee cup in his hand. “What’s up? Did Cathcart sign yet?”

“Not yet. He wants to visit a leather bar first. Got any suggestions?” Brice asked, giving Ron a sideways glance.

“Oh, sure. There’s 440, or if he wants to go a step down—” Watkins stopped and glared at Brice, who tried not to laugh. “Fuck you, Martin. And the fucking horse you rode in on!” He spun on his heel and stomped down the hallway.

Ron was shaking his head and wiping tears out of his eyes. “Well, if Cathcart really does want leather, we know who to ask.”

Brice’s cell phone buzzed, indicating a new text message. He glanced at Ron, then picked up the phone. “From Cathcart.”

“Go on, read it.” Ron drummed his fingertips on the armrest of his chair.

“Start chillin’ the champagne, boys,” Brice read. “Be there by two.”

“Yowsa. All right!” Ron leapt to his feet and high-fived Brice.

“Not so fast, Ron.” Brice sat back down. “It could just mean he and Kit are engaged or something.”

“Probably not. Cathcart is married. I thought you knew.”

Brice shook his head. He felt a little sick over the whole concept of sex sealing the deal. And he didn’t condone cheating, especially what he’d seen Cathcart get up to, not even considering what might have gone on in the privacy of his room.

“Yeah, I guess it doesn’t surprise me.”

“Not everyone’s into monotony—I mean
monogamy
—like you are. But you had a good time too, I hope.”

“I’m not in a relationship, Ron. If I were, then you wouldn’t catch me in there.”

“Then I’ll have to hope if you ever find someone else, you end up with the most understanding, unjealous guy ever. Because I’m sure we’ll need you in the trenches again.” Ron leaned forward and punched Brice’s arm playfully. “Look, I know what will cheer you up. Why don’t you go over the contract again and make sure everything’s shipshape before Cathcart gets here. I know legalese gets your motor racing!” Ron chuckled as he walked out of Brice’s office and all the way down the hall to his own.

Brice got up and shut the door. He settled into the chair and leaned back so he could put his feet up on his desk.

Someone else
. Ron hardly ever mentioned Brice’s ex. He’d been with Greg since law school. Then a couple of years ago, Greg got an offer he wasn’t about to refuse: partnership in his firm, but only if he transferred to their DC office. Brice had given up his own partnership-track job in a big patent law firm to join him, but the move had destroyed their relationship. Between Greg’s additional job stress and Brice’s inability to find a job in his field—there was nowhere near the demand for his particular type of legal expertise on the East Coast—they’d decided to call it quits. Brice moved back to Silicon Valley, but he’d lost his spot at his old firm, and starting somewhere new meant additional time to make partner. That was when Ron had made him an offer to join his VC firm. With Brice’s patent expertise, he could help them avoid outsourcing certain legal tasks, and he’d come in with the promise of full senior partnership within two years.

Except for losing Greg, Brice had landed on his feet.

Losing Greg.
Had he lost Greg, or had their inability to weather stress meant their relationship hadn’t been very strong in the first place?

Brice had no interest in rehashing that mental debate. He pulled up the Cathcart contract and focused on work until a loud knock on the door startled him. He was surprised to discover several hours had passed.

Cathcart burst into the room, with Ron trailing behind. Cathcart flourished a bottle of pricey Champagne in each hand. “The party is here, fellas. Where do I sign?”

“That’s great news!” Brice stood up and moved to the center of the room to shake hands with Cathcart, then Ron. “Assuming there are no changes to the contract, we can take care of all the paperwork right now.” Brice glanced toward Ron, who shook his head.

“Terms we discussed this past week are acceptable to me, Brice. That’s not what was holding back the decision….” Red Cathcart grinned. “You Silicon Valley boys know how to entertain a guest.” He plopped himself onto the couch at the far end of Brice’s office.

Brice leaned over to his intercom and buzzed his assistant. “Susana, can you print up a full set of the Cathcart contracts for us, please?” He moved toward the couch where Ron had also settled himself. “She’ll bring the binders for your signature in about twenty minutes.”

“Let’s get started on these.” Red thrust the bottles at Brice.

“Maybe we should wait until the business is concluded…,” Brice started.

Cathcart shook his head. “No need. I’m gonna sign. You’re gonna sign. We already know what’s in there, right?”

Ron shrugged and nodded. “The man makes sense to me.” He grabbed for a bottle, and Brice opened the cabinet where he kept a variety of glasses and two bottles of single-malt Scotch. He grabbed champagne flutes and brought them to the table. He tried not to remember the last time he’d seen one—the previous night as Sky Blue sipped at a glass of Champagne mixed with Remy’s come before having Remy drink the rest.

As Ron popped the cork on the first bottle, Brice put the second one in the small refrigerator in the corner. Then he sat in the chair near the couch and waited for Ron to hand him a glass.

“To new partners!” Cathcart said as he raised his glass.

“New partners,” Ron and Brice echoed, and they all sipped from the flutes.

“Once the paperwork is signed, how about we call in the rest of the senior team to share the second bottle?” Ron asked Cathcart.

“Great idea. Shoulda brought a six-pack of ’em.” He grinned and drained his glass.

Brice sipped but raised an eyebrow toward Ron, who shrugged again.

“Yes, I’ve enjoyed my visit here. Especially last night. Thank you, Brice, for treating me to a real special evening.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.” Brice smiled.

“Oh, yes I did. Got myself a membership this mornin’ before I left.” He poured more bubbly into everyone’s glasses. “Going back there again tonight. I wanted to schedule dinner with that sky blue boy who put on such a nice show last night.”

Brice choked on his Champagne and started coughing so hard Ron jumped up and smacked him on the back a few times. When he’d stopped coughing, Brice took a few deep breaths to steady himself.

Cathcart hadn’t noticed and kept talking. “Oh, but wouldn’t you know, he’s so popular he’s all booked up, or so they told me. No surprise there.” Cathcart made a sound so obviously sexual it had even Ron’s ears turning red.

Brice wasn’t sure he could speak and didn’t quite know how to respond if he did. Thankfully, Susana arrived with an armful of leather-bound folders. “Here’re the contracts. Thank you, Susana.”

She eyed the Champagne bottle as she set the folders down on the table in front of the couch. She pulled three pens out of the inner pocket of her suit jacket and handed them to Brice. Then she turned on her heel and headed for the door again, but she directed a disdainful stare at the back of Cathcart’s head.