Chapter Thirty-One – Hollis
I knocked on George's door and stuck my head in. “Can you give me a couple of minutes? I need to change and make a phone call.” Sure, George, I thought. Those are yesterday's clothes, aren't they? Where was George last night? A new friend?
I sat in the part of the former apartment George used as his office while he changed, I caught a glimpse of him as he walked from the bedroom to the shower. George has lost a few pounds; he's actually looking pretty good. It must be a new friend.
He came into the office looking refreshed. “Just a second more,” he said as he tapped his phone. “Peter … Thanks. You weren't so bad yourself ... I've got a client who is a butcher and I've never really tried his meat … No, his beef. How 'bout if I cook us a couple steaks tonight? Yes? Great. Come about seven.” He smiled at his phone and then switched to business. “Ok, what can I do for you?”
“Well, first of all, here's another check. I made it over to the company. I got a raise. It's for fifteen thousand this time. Second, I have a request.”
George eyed the check. “Ok, I was going to wait - for what I'm not sure. Your birthday? Anyway, Buddy, Richard, and I, in recognition of your contributions to the firm have elected you a partner. Your contributions, proportionate to our capital, decide your partnership share. So far it's around twelve percent. And this year, finally, it looks like there will be a partners' bonus.”
“George, I … er ...”
“Accept? Good. I'm glad leaving me didn't mean leaving the firm.” George fiddled with some papers and pushed one toward me. “This is the standard partnership agreement. No, don't sign it. Not yet.” He pulled it away from my pen. “As a partner, you probably need to get yourself a lawyer and READ THIS before you sign it. There are some obligations and you need to know about them.”
“What about Euie and Mac? They have been here longer than me.”
“We all started this together when it was founded after Tommy Lynn's death. Nobody came ahead of anybody else. And, as a partner you should know this, Euie and Mac will probably never make partner. They're both good workers and will be well paid, but they lack the drive we want to see. You have turned up new business and brought us new customers. They haven't. It's pretty simple. I've told both of them that if they want to advance, they need to help us grow.”
“George, I … don't know what to say.” He came from behind his desk and shook my hand. Then he said. “Fuck it!” and kissed me. A quick but friendly gesture. No passion whatsoever. “What else did you want to talk about?”
“Well, I made this money by suggesting why executives of a company might seem to fail in business and make it to their own advantage. I really like doing this. And … don't laugh … I want to go back to school and take courses that will make me better at it. George Mason has a graduate certificate program that I want to get into. Take some analytics and fraud courses. They don't actually offer forensic accounting, I would have to build my own program kind of. But Ty, that is Mr. Cole, says most graduate programs are like that anyway.”
“How much in time and money?”
“I thought I would start with nine credits and see how it goes. Many three hundred dollars a credit? I'd do it at night, so I wouldn't miss any work. And I could keep up with all my clients. And I'd really like to do this.”
“Done. Show us your tuition bill and the company will pay. You pay for books and fees. You gotta have some skin in the game or it's too easy to quit. Stand up.” I stood. He looked me over. “If I didn't have a new friend named Peter, I'd want you back, Hollis.”
I'm not that much smaller or younger than George, so the 'young thing' comment was not welcome. “Are you developing Tommy Lynn tendencies, George?”
“Do you mean, 'Have I fucked what's-his-name, the intern?' No, but he has offered.”
Anthony, that skinny little snake, I though as I returned to my desk. He reminds me of me a few years ago. The skinny little … hot little … fucker. “I think I need another lesson, Anthony?” I asked him yesterday.
“In what?” he asked, looking at Mac. I ignored the question.
So there I was in my apartment at four-thirty yesterday and Anthony followed a few minutes later. “Mac may have seen me come in here,” he said. “Um … you want me to bottom I guess.”
“You know, right now the sun is perfect. What if we tan a little before hand? We'll figure out the rest later.” What did I say? Why was I delaying? Why was I suddenly not all that into this? “You want a mojito?” I asked as I poured myself one.
“You know I'm too young.”
“Old enough to take a dick but not take a drink. Whatever ...” We settled ourselves lying on our backs in the sun. Ah … doing nothing in the sun does feel good.
Hollis, you're not hard,” Anthony said making me aware of his erection. “You want me to suck it?”
Before I could answer the door burst open. I've GOT to get that lock fixed. “Oh my GOD!!!” said a familiar voice. Joe rushed over to block the sun and looked desperately around the room. He grabbed my mojito and poured it on my cock. “Get out of the sun!!!”
“Joe! That was my mojito!”
He ignored me and pulled me by the arms back away from the window. “Seriously, the Countessfell asleep while tanning his balls and woke up three and a half hours later in serious pain. Of course, he's maybe a little into pain these days, but his balls turned black and he's groggy from all the pain killers.” He paused and said, “You're dripping. Let me help.” He started licking my dick. “Mmm. Good mojito. Is there more?”
“A pitcher in the kitchen,” was all I could say. He had moved on to sucking my cock.
“Sweet,” he said raising his head. “Can I fuck you?”
“What? NO!”
He glanced at Anthony who was watching and showing a rigid erection. “How about you, kid?”
I waited for Anthony's outraged no, but it never came. “Maybe,” he said softly. Jeez, the kid is insatiable. I tried to get up with Joe partly on top of me and my cock ended up in Joe's mouth again, harder than it was the first time.
“You sure?” Joe asked me.
“”Joe, what the fuck? What are you doing pouring a drink on me?”
“The countess? Remember him?” I nodded, who could forget? “Well he fell asleep tanning his balls and woke up three and a quarter hours later. Not a pretty sight apparently. First bright red balls. Then darker, I guess black balls. Now? Maybe he lost them.”
“Lost them? That's fucking careless!”
“Not funny, Hollis. I think they cut them off in the ER. He may lost whatever is left, too.”
“Well, there's a headstart on his transition. That's what he wanted, right?”
“No, despite his mannerisms and all the countess stuff, he loves fucking. Gonna be hard without a the package.”
I shoved Joe off me and got up. Anthony was still lying there with a hardon. “I'm getting cleaned up. If you want a drink, you know where stuff is.” I headed for a shower; mojitos are sticky.
“So, kid,” Joe said, “You ready now or what?”
“Let me see your dick. I want to know what we're working with,” answered Anthony. My God, I thought, is this kid a professional? The sound of the shower drowned out whatever else they said.
I dressed and returned to the room. Joe was alone. “Where's Anthony?”
“Is that his name? I think we're meeting up later. Potential hook up!” Joe commented with a satisfied smile.
“Joe, I'm going to play lacrosse and then do some work. Just pull the door closed when you leave. I still haven't got a lock installed.
Not my circus; not my monkeys, as the Polish say. The farther I got away from Joe the cleaner I felt. In Great Falls it was only seven for lacrosse. We rotated through playing goalee and teamed up three and three. The exercise felt good. Joe, the Countess, Anthony – that was all feeling a little sleazy to me, maybe a lot sleazy. Definitely a lot sleazy. Maybe back away I thought; be more selective.
I caught the ball and ran; Ruslan was in position, I passed to him. A perfect pass. All he had to do was extend his stick … AND HE MISSED! It was just a friendly game. No big deal; but he could have scored. It bugged me a little. Matt lunged for it and fell at Ruslan's feet while the ball sailed. Everybody paused and then Matt reached up and yanked Ruslan's pants down. A general laugh while Ruslan pulled his shorts back up. “Nice red jock, Russ,” Maron called out.
Now Maron. What a cutie. Matt should have pantsed him. Jeez, there I go again. Concentrate on the game. Not that Ruslan didn't look pretty hot in that red jock with his shorts around his knees. CONCENTRATE ON THE GAME! But that play ended the game. Nobody could find the ball and we didn't have a spare.
“Hollis, you coming with me?” Ruslan asked. “You're seeing my dad, right?” Big cheery smile, his striking blue eyes looking right into mine, a general warmth with a sexy edge, same old Ruslan.
“Why did you miss that pass? It was an easy one.” I shouldn't have asked; it was just a friendly game. No need for direct criticism.
“I was distracted,” he said.
“By what?”
“By you, idiot. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you're running all out? You are the picture of masculine perfection. Strong thighs, tight waist. Plus all the other stuff I remember about you. I just wanted to stare at you.”
I was speechless. I just stood there. And then Ruslan kissed me. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but it wasn't just a peck either. He walked a few steps and then turned back, “Come on! Dad's waiting.”
“What was that about, Russ?”
“You know that's the first time you've ever called me Russ.” I was speechless again. “Close your mouth,” he said. “You know Mila is in Paris?”
“I thought she was pregnant again.”
“She is. She's coming back to have the baby. Then I think she's going back to Paris.”
“And you're going with her?”
“Probably not. I'm thinking about medical school.”
