The Sinner’s Sanctuary (Doormen of the Upper East Side #3)

30. Christian

30

CHRISTIAN

W hen Silas tried to back out of drinks, I knew something had happened—that what Gibson and Marianne did affected him somehow. When I see him, however, it’s obvious what Graham Lawther’s choice was.

My friend looks like he’s barely keeping his shit together. Dark-haired with even darker, expressive eyes, Silas is slightly shorter than I am, but he’s a lean, running machine. A marathoner and personal trainer. He and I met a decade ago at one of the only union meetings I ever went to when I first got my doorman job. I figured it might be a good way to meet people, and it was, but Silas is the only one I still speak with.

Eventually, I lived with him, Drew, and Eric, another doorman from the union meeting, for a few years in an apartment in Greenwich Village rotating between two bedrooms and a sleeper sofa. With shift work, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been since Drew always worked nights and Silas was on days at the time. My own shifts haven’t been consistent until recently.

But unless Silas has been working nights, the dark circles under his eyes mean he’s not sleeping for some other reason, and I have my guess .

“Hey,” he says quietly as I stand to give him a hug.

“Hey.”

We embrace, and he holds on tight for a brief moment before letting go and shaking his head, like he’s trying to clear it. “Thanks for coming,” I tell him.

“Sorry about that. I’ve got some shit going on.”

“Let’s talk about it,” I say, not bothering to beat around the bush.

His eyes flash with suspicion. “I think I’d rather not.”

“Is it about Graham?”

He squints at me. “Why would you ask?”

I’m the first to admit, when I found out Silas was moving in with the dude, I gave him hell for it. Talk about acting outside of your own interest by carrying on with someone who supports anti-gay legislation when you are in fact—gay. Which Silas is.

Lawther is regularly in the news spouting off about marriage being meant for a man and woman for the purpose of procreation only, and how drag queens are indoctrinating our youth. He’s pro book bans for fuck’s sake. Silas’s only defense at the time was “he’s not like that.”

But he never elaborated on what the senator is actually like. Although, he did eventually tell me how they met. It was the magic combo of Silas being a doorman at Graham’s building and training clients at the Senator’s gym. Classic gym crush. They were running into each other all the time, Lawther hired Silas to “train” him, and here we are.

“Before I get into that, I want to say it’s good to see you. I miss you, and I hope we can do better in terms of keeping up.”

He shifts, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. I guess I’ve been a stranger. Drew says the same thing.”

“I don’t judge you, Sy.”

He averts his gaze and scratches at the scruff on his cheek. “I don’t blame you if you do. I get it.”

“I know we don’t always get a say in who we fall for. ”

“Chris, if you don’t mind—I don’t wanna talk about it. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on with you? Or better yet, what are you drinking? I’ll buy us a round.”

“There’s a waitress. And I’ve been hooking up with Gibson Hayes.”

His head jerks. “Oh.” A brief silence passes and then, “I guess you’re really not in a place to judge, then.”

“Told you. Anyway, it’s not really serious, but it’s interesting.”

“Wait—wasn’t he friends with your dad?”

“They went to high school together.”

Silas’s dark eyebrows rise.

“As a reminder—my dad got my mom pregnant when he was seventeen so Gibson’s not ancient or anything. He’s in his forties.”

“I didn’t realize your parents were so young.”

“Yeah. Well…”

“But that’s still not weird? Did you like—grow up knowing him?”

“No. Knowing of him—I maybe met him once when I came to New York while I was in grade school, but I honestly don’t remember. My father told me to contact him when I moved to the city, and he gave me a job.”

“And an apartment now, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“So…how long’s this been going on?”

“Literally like a week. He needed a part-time personal assistant, and it just kinda happened.”

“You know his wife is?—”

“That’s kinda why I wanted to see you,” I say, glad he was the one to bring up Marianne first.

“I’ve got no advice if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“No—I don’t need advice. His marriage is a whole mess that doesn’t concern me, except when it comes to you.”

Silas narrows his gaze. “What do you know? ”

“Why’d you try to cancel today?”

His jaw clenches. “Because I was up all night.”

“Look—I’ll put all my cards on the table,” I tell him, wanting him to trust me like he used to. “I know Marianne Hayes is—threatening Graham.” I almost said blackmailing, but stopped at the last second, since Gibson is technically the perpetrator, and threats are a hell of a lot more legal adjacent than blackmailing a U.S senator.

“Right. He said he needed to end things.”

“And he explained why?” I ask.

“I guess because he doesn’t want to get taken to the cleaners in the divorce…” Silas glances away. “I don’t know. Why does any closeted, repressed gay dude leave their partner of two years when his wife finds out about him? Don’t tell me you’re surprised.”

I don’t know what I am if I’m being honest. “Did he tell you about the video?”

Silas’s brows draw together. “No. What video?”

“Marianne somehow got a hold of a video of Graham and you—in your apartment.”

Silas loses all the color in his face. “Like—a video ?”

I nod.

“Did you see it?”

“Enough to know it’s the ultimate leverage for Avery, and that it would put you in a spotlight you definitely don’t deserve.”

“So, are you saying he’s protecting me? Because it didn’t come across like that. It came across like he was being weak and fucking selfish.”

“I can’t speak to that, but as someone who cares about you, I would do whatever I could to keep that video from coming out.”

“So, the terms of this threat include breaking up with me? Pushing me out of his life? Pretending I never existed?”

I lean in and lower my voice. “I’m telling you all this because when I found out you were involved, I was extremely concerned. But I’m allowed to tell you what I’m about to because Gibson’s worried about what this could do to someone like Graham.”

Silas scoffs. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Look—he left that meeting the other day afraid your boyfriend was gonna hang himself.”

Silas rolls his eyes. “He would never.”

“Good. That’s good—because here’s what Marianne wants. She wants his bank account, and she also wants political favors. I mean—frankly, I can’t argue her politics, but the shit she wants him to do would ruin his career no matter what. And if that video comes out, he and you are gonna be at the center of a huge scandal. I have to believe he’s trying to protect you the only way he can.”

A tear slips down Silas’s cheek. “Or he could own it. He could admit that he gives a shit about me and do what he actually believes in instead of what his family expects of him. He could take the fucking out and start over somewhere else. He’s an attorney for fuck’s sake. It’s not like he can’t take his law license and move upstate to live a nice little gay life, and have friends, and be out and happy. Leave politics.”

“Maybe he goes to Marianne with that, then,” I say.

Silas only scoffs. “Are you listening to me? That’s not what he wants. He wants to be the good son and the noble Republican conservative he was raised to be. He’s set to inherit. Whatever Avery takes from him now, he’ll get back whenever his dad dies, and the way that man lives, it’s just a matter of time.”

Silas’s words are angry and laced with pain. I get the feeling this isn’t the first time he’s said any of this. That it might even all be a rehash of what kept him up last night.

“That really sucks,” I say softly.

“I mean, at least I know where I stand on his priority list. Sucks to be wrong, yeah, but I guess I’m not surprised.”

“I’m surprised,” I tell him because sometimes it helps to know you aren’t the only fool .

Silas’s eyes close, and several more tears fall. This time he tries to wipe them away before blowing his nose into a napkin and crumpling it in his hand. The waitress arrives, and I nod for him to order something.

He finally does—a glass of red wine. I’m sticking with beer tonight. Tequila has been making me a little too rowdy lately. Although I have no plans to see Gibson later, if I start drinking, I can’t guarantee I won’t go looking for him in his club and make him do dirty things to me in front of people. Zero self-control when it comes to that man. Who knew I had a thing for suave billionaires?

I’m still not sure I can imagine being in a relationship with a man, but I’m definitely enjoying having sex with one.

Honestly, there’s not much about Gibson I don’t enjoy.

“You thought he’d pick me over his family?” Silas asks once the waitress leaves. “His massive inheritance? His senate seat?”

“I thought he’d try to figure something out. It’s not all black and white.”

“It is according to the Graham Lawther guide to good living. Anyway…I’m not gonna sit here and cry about it anymore. I’m too pissed off.”

“Moving through the stages of grief like a boss,” I joke before realizing it’s probably something Jericho would smack me for saying.

But it makes Silas smile. Sort of.

“Where are you planning to stay?” I ask.

“A hotel. For now. I’m good on money, so I’m not worried about that. At first he said he wanted me to stay in the apartment—like he was giving it to me or something, and then all of a sudden, he was all—no it’s better if you’re not here.”

I’m not sure if this helps or not, but I say, “I imagine it’s because you’ve been being watched.”

Silas flashes another dark look at me. “Right. So, you and Gibson Hayes, huh? ”

“It’s not a thing,” I assure him. “I mean—it’s a thing, just not an important thing.”

“And his wife? Where’s your conscience now?”

“Their marriage is unconventional,” I say, without responding to the dig.

“As in open?”

“As in wide open.”

“Huh. I guess you never know what goes on behind closed doors.”

That’s one way to put it, I guess.

“Do you like him?”

“Yeah, I like him a lot. He’s been great. Sort of a pain in the ass sometimes, but he’s entertaining.”

“Had you been with many men before?”

I’m so fucking glad he asked, because I wasn’t going to bring it up, and I would like to talk about it with someone besides Drew. Not because I feel like I’m doing something wrong, but because Drew will likely only ever be or have been with the one man. Gibson feels more like a gateway drug. I haven’t even thought about hooking up with a woman since Rome.

“No. Hardly ever. A few kisses—hand jobs—grinding on a dance floor—but I’ve never brought a guy home from a bar or anything. Or gone on a date with one.”

“Do you go on dates? With anyone?”

“Not really. Not never, but it’s not really my thing.”

“I never was able to pin down what your thing is.”

“Just keeping it simple,” I tell him.

“So, whatever I do—just the exact opposite.”

I laugh. “Anyway, with Gibson, it’s like really good. In terms of chemistry.”

Silas nods like I’m supposed to elaborate.

“Not all guys are like—good at sex, though, right?”

He does a spit take. “Is that a serious question? Have you met Men ? ”

“Most women are decent at it.”

“I can’t speak to that. You know how I feel about vaginas. Like I appreciate they serve a purpose, but it begins and ends there. Men are terrible at sex. Generally trainable though if you feel like one’s worth the time and energy.”

“Oh.”

“Do you think you’re good at it?” he asks.

Not anymore, I don’t. “I feel like I have my moments. Not every performance is gonna medal.”

“I’ve never met him, so I have to ask—are you topping or bottoming?”

“Both.” Depending on the compartment.

He nods. “Respect. Yeah—so you know how it goes. It can be easy to forget to pay attention to how your partner’s doing when you’re in the mood to get off. Which is to say that some men are better at it than others—as any woman would also tell you.”

“Makes sense. Guess I got lucky for my first time, then. Or I don’t know any better.”

“Sometimes it just feels right,” he says, choking on the last word.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “That was insensitive. You can always tell me to shut the fuck up.”

“No…no. I want to hear more,” he says with a sad smile. “Remind me there’s an upside to starting over from scratch.”