“Any idea who for?”
“You should talk to him.” He wasn’t going to speak for Blake.
“Let me be a little more direct with you,” she hissed.
“Uh-huh.” He hadn’t a clue where she was going with this call.
“By mistake this morning, I opened your goodie box.”
“I see.” No, no, no.
“My first thought was you and Blake would always be an item. I do, however, have one cautionary request for you.”
This wasn’t her fucking business. Nevertheless, he humored her. “What’s your demand?”
“If you hurt Blake, I will ruin you, Miguel.”
“¿Perdón?”
“I’ll call art galleries from here to Timbuktu and have your paintings pulled, shredded, and mailed back to your loft in a Ziploc bag.” Taddy’s voice sounded tight and loud as if she’d held up the receiver to her tonsils. “You and I both know my connections run from the Louvre in Paris to the Metropolitan Museum of Art here in New York, so help me, sweet Jesus, I will.”
“It’s not what you’re assuming.” This wasn’t just sex. He had tried hard not to allow his feelings for Blake to get in the way, but he realized he’d failed at the no-feeling strategy so far.
“I mean it, Miguel. Blake’s been a mess for months. You haven’t seen him on a day-to-day basis as we have at the office. I sent him to Secrète de St. Barth to get healthy with Lex after MLD moved out.” The crinkling paper turned to a ripping noise. “I’ll be damned if he reverts back to being sad.”
“Meaning?”
“Today is the first time I’ve seen his face have any semblance of happiness.”
“Is that so?” His heart melted.
“Yes and if you hurt him in any way, shape, or form similar to what that Diego bastard did, I’ll come for you as you’ve never imagined. We clear, Papi?”
“Very.” He hated when she called him Papi. Miguel respected Taddy for as long as he remembered since she was self-made and ruthless. Her friends were her family. She was protective. “Perhaps you know more than me about their marriage. What exactly did MLD do to Blake?”
“To quote your earlier remark, you should talk to him,” she mocked in a Mexican accent.
Miguel laughed as another call came through his line.
“Taddy, I have a call coming in.”
“I love you, darling. Big Daddy and I can’t wait to see you at the wedding.” Her voice flipped back to its usual high-pitched, love-you-more-than-Coco-Chanel tone.
“Adiós.” He clicked over and greeted the next call.
“Hola,” his sister Inez cheered. “Miguel, the girls adored their time with you yesterday. They loved your friend.”
“Maravilloso.” He kept working.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for the Barcelona opening.” Sensing he was being disrespectful, he turned his attention away from the canvas. “I’m putting the finishing touches on my main piece.”
“When is the Spain exposición?”
“Next week.”
“Wouldn’t it be great if Papá, Mamá, the girls, and I came to your show?”
No. It would be stressful. Dad will be sick and Mom’ll drive me insane. Covering for his delayed pause, he raised his voice with fake enthusiasm, “Sure.”
“We can dream, can’t we? I’d love to take off work and come with you to Spain.”
He glanced at the kitchen clock. “Are you at work?”
“I’m between meetings. You know these shareholders are up our asses to see profits this year.”
“Everything okay? You never call me during the middle of the workday.”
“Sí, fine. Cierra and Ofelia mentioned you’re bringing Blake to the house for dinner.”
He paused and elected to be honest. “Sí. He’s coming with me.” Where was she going with this? A knot twisted behind his belly button. “You’ve met Blake. We went to college together. Last name is Morgan, from Greenwich, Connecticut.”
“I remember. I’ve always enjoyed your friends, in particular Blake.” Her rapid inhale echoed. “Cierra came home after your day with her and said, and I quote, ‘Tío Miggy has a boyfriend’.”
Flat on his feet, he stood from the chair, ready to hit the ceiling. ¡Ay dios mio! Brutus followed, jumping to all fours in response to Miguel’s stance.
He huffed. In his twenty-nine years, Inez never asked him the question. “Where would Cierra get such an idea?” She’s a smart one.
“Cierra’s classmate, Rose, in her nursery school has two daddies.” She laughed. “It’s quite the trend at her school.”
“Bueno for Rose.”
“Cierra goes over there to play sometimes when I can’t get home in time to pick her up after work and the nanny is running errands.”
“What does her classmate have to do with me?” It has everything to do with you, you ninny.
“Cierra mentioned that spending Sunday with you and Blake reminded her—” Inez stopped.
Her evident hesitation in her communication caused him to hold his own breath.
“It reminded her of hanging out with Rose’s two dads.”
Damn that little Rose. “Did she now?” He tried to laugh it off but couldn’t. He wanted to hang up but wouldn’t. He’d love to yell at Cierra and her little friend Rose, but shouldn’t. “Just because two men hang together doesn’t make them gay.”
“No chingues.” She lowered her voice, taking on that big-sister tone, and repeated in English, “Cut the shit. Are you and Blake lovers?”
“¿Perdón?”
“Are you gay?” Her life-size, superior pitch amplified.
Are you gay? Are you gay? Are you gay?
Inez’s question echoed as a scratched vinyl in his ear. “I’m not having this conversation over the phone.” He didn’t want to have it in person, either. Blake would point the finger at him for being lazy in the emotional and feelings department. In reality, he detested confrontation. He also didn’t want to disappoint his sister or have her worry. Her plate was packed full with other matters to attend to, matters more important than his desire to suck cock.
“I don’t have the luxury of time that you do. This is your chance to talk to me. Otherwise, I’ll see you at the dinner.” She always used a backhanded tone, which remained supportive yet a little threatening.
He glared at Brutus for encouragement to answer the question. His orange, love-you-with-all-my-heart eyes were ogling back up at him. If his family abandoned him, there’d always be Brutus.
“Sí, I’m gay,” he answered without any misgivings. It’s now or never. Coming out that week was in the cards. He’d wanted to do this more than anything. Granted, not on Inez’s work break, but still…
He heard her crying on the line. He felt selfish, stupid for not doing this ages before.
“I’m sorry we’re doing this over the phone. I love you.”
“Te amo, too, sis.”
“I’m fine with…” Her voice trailed off. He heard her blowing her nose in the background.
He wondered if she’d say it.
She cleared her throat. “I’m okay with you being gay.”
His cheeks rose into a smile. Hot tears stung his face, and the tightening in his chest released. His sister was never one to mince words.
He released his right fist and rubbed his clammy palm up and down his jeans. “I’m telling our parents at dinner.”
“With Blake on your arm? I figured as much.”
“Do you think Papá will freak out?”
“I can’t answer for him.”
He wanted his sister to confirm that their family would understand. “Right.” His chest retightened as his scalp and cheeks began to sweat. He felt as if he’d sucked on a habanero pepper marinated in Tabasco. He couldn’t breathe. Was he doing this?
“It’s time you told them. They deserve to know what makes you happy.” There was dead silence on the line for what felt like eternity. “If they choo
se to support you, great.”
“And if they don’t?” he asked, besieged in doubt. They won’t love me anymore. I'll be a failure to them.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“Meaning?” He weighed the possible ramifications.
“Papá’s illness has given him lucid thoughts. Issues which bothered him in the past, today he may be at peace with.”
That’s because Papá is ready to die. “And Mamá?”
“You’ll have your work cut out for you with her.” She shared a laugh with him, breaking the uncomfortable tension. “Let me ask you, does Blake make you happy?”
“Sí.” More than ever if they solidified their relationship. “Very much so.”
Going through the Seven Desires and Needs motions had its advantages—Blake in his arms night after night, the kissing, and the discovery of each other’s bodies. But there wasn’t a guarantee he would be his, all his. Forever wasn’t on the list.
“My next meeting is here. Thank you for telling me. Te amo.”
“Te amo,” he echoed.
In disbelief he’d come out, Miguel set his cell phone down on the kitchen counter. “One down, two more to go.” To his surprise, his sister didn’t rush over when she’d heard he was gay and throw holy water on him. She didn’t scream he’d go to Hell, or even hang up on him. Inez continued her love for him and went back to work carrying on with her day as if it were any other.
Would telling his parents go as easily? Did they already know? Close to thirty, and not once did he ever have a girlfriend. They had to suspect. But then, the mind believes what the heart wants it to.
He picked up his cell and texted Lex. I just came OUT to Inez.
Lex replied, And? What did she say?
He typed back, telling her the good news as, ready for his walk, Brutus swaggered over with his leash in his mouth.
A few minutes later, Lex texted, I cancelled the wedding.
What? Why didn’t Taddy say anything to him when they spoke? Maybe she didn’t know. Was this because of the hospital? Was she okay?
He didn’t reply and instead picked up the phone.
“Lex, qué pasa? What’s going on?”
Bryant Park
“I haven’t come in four days,” Blake confessed in a low voice as he stared at Vive and Thor for sympathy. They sat in close proximity to Condé Nast, Heart and Fairchild media personalities by their table. The ever-popular Koi restaurant in Bryant Park was, as usual, crowded. But leave it to Debauchery Magazine’s connections to get them a table. He picked at the blue cheese-stuffed olive in his gin martini and gave Anna Wintour a wink a few tables over.
“Miguel’s making you earn your mangasm.” She reached across the table, jabbing her sterling fork into his calamari salad.
Decked in a Dior suit, she came from her last gossip interview with actress Anne Hathaway. Tired and over the day’s drama, Vive said she didn’t want to talk about Lex, Massimo or the wedding. So he kept the conversation on the subject she loved most—sex.
“Not since I was fourteen have I gone this long without masturbating.” He remembered his middle school subscription to International Male catalog showcasing guy’s buns and gorgeous chests. Those images had confirmed his sexual tendencies. “My cock is going to burst.”
“You can make it. Hell, you went half a decade without ever experiencing bonafide intimacy, boo,” His friend reminded him as he sipped his cocktail.
“This should be a walk in the park and it is. I’m having a great time.” Blake pinched his chopsticks together, scooped tuna tartar from his plate, and swallowed. Yum.
“Are you falling in love?” Thor’s right eyebrow jumped.
“Love? Heavens no.” He’d always adored Miguel as a friend. This week he might be fighting the urge to see his friend as a boyfriend. They’d agreed to sex, nothing more and even that was a big step, one he was still on the fence about doing. A risk to be heartbroken again wasn’t on their lists or even on his mind. It would destroy him. No more husbands.
“Gorgeous, don’t say no,” she pleaded.
He didn’t like where this conversation was headed. “I’ll say it again…no”
“Blake, we watched you suffer with MLD for years and if we can bring you happiness, otherwise known as Miguel’s heart, we will.” Thor’s gaze settled on his with an unapologetic glare.
They remained clueless as to what really happened in his marriage. It was hard not to tell them since they were always so honest and upfront with him about everything.
“Love? What are you talking about? That wasn’t on the list.”
“Oh, spare me.” Vive’s voice cracked.
“I’ve always pictured Miguel as a sex machine, never a boyfriend.” He wondered if he’d just lied to them as he’d denied himself true love for the last decade.
Thor’s lips pouted into a sulk. “Shit. Shittt. Shiii—it.”
“I second your shits.” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one heard what they were cussing.
“What are you two triple-shitting over?” Blake scooted his chair in closer to them. They were up to something, they always were. He could tell by the way the little hairs on his arms stood up.
“I told Miguel you’d had the hots for him,” Thor confessed.
“Who hasn’t? But for sex.” He bit down on crispy wonton. The crackle sound brought a serious ramification ring to his Seven Desires.
“We even bet money on it.” She shook her blonde bob.
“How much?”
“Ten grand…that you two…would be living together within the year,”
“You guys are nuts. An actual relationship? With Miguel Santana?” he blurted aloud, and realized what he’d gotten into and glared at them across the table. “Oh, boy…I don’t know about this.”
“Miguel may have taken your Seven Desires as a ticket to boyfriend land.” Vive treaded the topic without calling him a dumbass. Though even through a dozen or so Botox injections to her forehead, he could tell by the look on her face, she wanted to.
“Why? It’s S-E-X?” That alone was more than he thought he could give.
“No, Blake. This is a lot more for Miguel than just sex and you know it.” Thor laid it out on the table. “Grow the fuck up.”
“Wake the fuck up!” Vive snapped.
Lemonade & Lycra
Mixed emotions surged through Blake as he tried to understand Miguel’s intentions better. Though he’d been hesitant of them from the start, they made sense nowa Seven Needs list.
Of course, his friend was testing his waters to see what a real boyfriend felt like. Why didn’t he see these objectives earlier? But did Miguel possess the capabilities of sustaining something long-term, going beyond a week, a month, or a year? His dating history said no way.
His cock always stood to attention whenever Miguel walked in the room. What about his heart? Was love possible again? He worried he’d need a jumper cable to get it going. “Why hasn’t he ever told me this?”
“Do you have any sense how intimidating you, Blake Morgan the Third, are?” Thor asked.
“No.” Just because he came from money didn’t mean he was hard to get. He wasn’t easy to be had, either.
“You know what I mean. You’re scary to most guys.”
“Scary?” His mind reeled with confusion. “As in the movie The Exorcist?”
“No, not demonic scary. Scary as in you’re hot, chic, and loaded. We all have a defect. But you, you’re kinda perfect. It terrifies most gay men who are riddled with insecurities and doomed for rejection.”
“Spare me.” No one was perfect.
“Okay, let’s put your perfection aside. Look at it from Miguel’s vantage point, shall we?” Vive asked, attempting to help Thor with his clarity while she poked at his meal.
“Which is?”
“He’s afraid you’ll reject him as you did in college,” she reminded.
“Rejected?” Blake repeated. “Try being marrie
d to a man who won’t touch you for half a decade. I ooze rejection.” He hated to bring a negative back to his failed marriage. It was his only barometer. “And besides, Miguel is one of the most confident men I’ve ever met. If he wanted me, he would’ve grabbed me by my hair and pulled me into his cave a long time ago.”
“Diego never stepped up to the plate and enjoyed your cave. He realized he’d never be your equal.” Thor always acted as if he knew the answer.
“Money and cave aside, Miguel is my equal, if not more so. Didn’t you two see Manhattanite magazine last week? They’re touting him as the next Salvador Dalí,” Blake added. “And I do, too, have my faults.” He knew his shortcomings. Shallow at times, often one-sided, but he was working on it.
“Taddy secured Miguel that art-ranking editorial. His press never goes to his head the way your stupidity goes toward yours.”
“Ouch, Vive! That stung.” Blake moved his plate away from her reach as punishment for calling him a dummy.
“You two belong together,” Thor stated without any expression on his face.
“Once again, I’ll second him as your top love interest.” She threw her napkin on the table, focusing on her cocktail. Lifting the crystal with both hands to her lips, she gulped the gin. She squinted as she crunched down on the ice, shaking her head in disappointment in his direction.
Two against one, he was outnumbered. They’d known him since the ninth grade. The communication between them at times could be described as telepathic.
He grabbed his bleached white cotton napkin and twisted the starched fabric through his knuckles. “I don’t want another relationship. It was too hard, too much disappointment.” He promised himself he wouldn’t go through another Diego nightmare again.
“Sour much?”
“As a lemon,” he answered with a snap. “And I have a right to be.” He wasn’t over his divorce. Another commitment on the horizon was unthinkable. “I want to be single for a while, at least a year.” He sipped his drink.
“It’s time for you to make some effin’ lemonade,” she suggested.
“Why? My lemons are fine the way they are.” He grimaced. “Doesn’t your misery love my company?”
She rolled her eyes and replied, “Not always.” Apparently, she was still pissed off about Lex’s wedding. It wasn’t his fault her lips got loose.