Chapter 2
His last meeting of the day runs long, and Bryan stops to grab dinner and take it home. He eats at his kitchen counter and tries to read The Economist. Tries to pretend it’s a normal day for a little bit longer.
He can’t concentrate.
He picks up the phone and calls his brother. Also, a twin. Not identical but fraternal.
“Bry-Bry,” his brother says instead of saying hello like an adult.
“I have to fire my assistant. He’s a gay power bottom looking for a Daddy. He’s looking for love with a man whose email address is Ballbuster69.”
His brother snorts. “Come on. Ballbuster69 is the sort of guy one has a lost weekend with. A Ballbuster is never forever,” he says, sounding amused. And calm. “Which assistant? Samuel? I like Samuel. He always makes sure you take my calls.”
Bryan shoves a piece of broccoli into his mouth before answering. “He was a very good assistant. What a fucking disaster. He sent me the email by accident and then deleted it from my computer, as if that means we can just forget about it.”
There’s a long pause on Ryan’s end. “Can’t you?
He’s a really good assistant. We get good Christmas and birthday presents now.
We’re quite enjoying our cheese of the month subscription he got us with your money.
” He hears his sister-in-law speaking in the background, “Wendy wants you to know that the pickle of the month subscription is great, too. Usually pairs well with the cheese.”
“I’m so happy to hear that,” he says, voice filled with sarcasm. He eats a carrot and a piece of teriyaki chicken. Wendy is getting louder, and he can quite clearly hear her saying he should not fire Samuel.
“Don’t tell her—”
“He’s a gay power bottom looking for a Daddy,” Ryan says.
“God Damit, Ry,” he growls.
“Ooh, that’s exciting!” Wendy says, as if this is amusing gossip, or even more strangely, good news. “How does he know? Did he hit on Bryan at after work drinks?”
Ryan laughs loudly.
Clearly, neither of them has any idea what it’s like to work in a corporate office with sexual harassment training every six months.
Bryan loosens his tie. Then he wipes the back of his forehead with his hand. Is he sweating? “No, he did not hit on me, and we do not have a work culture that would engage in Friday night carousing.” He winces.
“Mr. Stick up his ass is offended at the idea that he would allow drinking amongst his employees. He used the word ‘carousing’. Bryan, no one has used the word carousing in a hundred years.”
Wendy snorts in the background.
“Can you imagine?” Ryan says to his wife. “No, poor boy sent the email to the wrong address. He was just trying to get his horn on.”
Bryan contemplates hanging up so they can carry on the conversation without him. But then he really wouldn’t have anyone to talk to about this. He grabs the notepad he makes grocery lists on and also a pen.
‘Fire Assistant’ is first on the list. ‘Get more friends?’ He writes the words down and stares at them.
That is depressing. Not as depressing as having to fire Samuel, but if he puts both of them together, then his life is very bleak indeed.
Wendy is still chattering in the background.
“Is that something he can be fired over? Isn’t it a lifestyle choice or identity? Can he say he’s being discriminated against?” she asks.
“Of course he can be fired!” Bryan says sharply enough that Scooter lifts his head and looks at him quizzically.
Scooter is a twenty-pound mutt of indeterminate everything from breed to age.
Scooter’s soulful brown eyes stare at him.
This dog might be his best friend. He’s called Scooter because he scoots on the carpet in an attempt to get pressure on his anal glands.
Perhaps Bryan needs to make a lot more effort to make friends.
And Scooter should get more treats.
“Why? He wasn’t hitting on you,” Ryan says with so much certainty that Bryan is instinctively offended.
“Be nice,” Wendy says.
“Ow! Who are you, Ballbuster69?” Ryan says. He can just imagine Wendy smacking Ryan on the arm. “He deleted the email from Bryan’s inbox.” Then he’s back to talking to Bryan. “I think you should pretend you don’t know. He’s a nice kid. Let him live a little. What the hell would you do without him?”
“I don’t know. He takes care of Scooter when I have to go out of town for work.”
Ryan sighs.
“I just mean that firing Samuel would upend every part of my life.”
Bryan forces himself to eat another mouthful of food even though he isn’t hungry and then goes to get a beer from the fridge.
He shouldn’t have one because it’s the middle of the week, but this has been a horrible day.
He also gets Scooter a treat, tossing the beef-flavored biscuit into the living room.
There, at least someone is happy.
And yes, Scooter is a someone.
He cannot imagine calling Samuel into his office and telling him he’s fired.
“How would I find out if I can keep him or not? I don’t want to ask HR,” Bryan says.
“I can ask my HR?” Ryan offers. They’re in different states, but maybe it overlaps?
“Just pretend you don’t know,” Wendy shouts from the background. “He’s going to be our fourth for pickleball when we come see you for Christmas.”
“Hell,” Bryan says, because this is a disaster.
“We like him more than we ever liked Kathy,” she says. Kathy is his ex-wife. He likes Samuel more than he likes Kathy, so it isn’t a particularly surprising thing to say. “Maybe you should be his Daddy. That would be cute. A lot of people come out later in life,” she says.
That is a surprising thing to say. “I’m not even 40!” He won’t deign to respond to the rest of her statement.
“You could be a power top and a Daddy,” she says, with so much enthusiasm it’s disturbing. “You’d have to call him Sammy or something cute like that. Get him a stuffed animal.”
Wendy is a housewife who lives in Ohio. What does she know about gay male sexual practices? “I feel like I’ve just stepped into the Twilight Zone,” Bryan says.
“You mean Black Mirror. Your young boytoy won’t know about the Twilight Zone,” Ryan says. He hears Wendy laugh. Both of them are acting like this is totally normal.
“You’re probably a lot hotter than Ballbuster69. And richer. Besides, you have the space in that giant house to give him a room. You could have a playroom!” Wendy says.
The fork hovers halfway to Bryan’s open mouth.
What.
His mind is momentarily blank.
“I’m gonna hand you over to Wendy because this isn’t really my wheelhouse,” Ryan says.
“Hello? Is he a little or does he just want to call a man Daddy?” Wendy asks.
“What in God’s name are you talking about?” Bryan demands.
“Bryan, don’t be a prude.”
“I have no idea,” Bryan says, hoping his tone is repressive enough to end this conversation.
It isn’t.
“What did the email say exactly?” Wendy asks.
“We shouldn’t be having this conversation.” And there is no way he is going to repeat it. Not just because it was outrageous, but because it would feel like a betrayal to Samuel.
More of a betrayal than this conversation already is
“Why not? I just ordered your brother two Tommy Bahama pineapple shirts.”
“What does that have to do with anything? They sound hideous. Are you going on vacation?”
She laughs. “You don’t know about pineapples?”
“Oh god. If it isn’t just a fruit, don’t tell me. I might have a heart attack.”
”You need to get out more. I’m sure this isn’t as big a deal as you’re making it out to be. The email is deleted! Don’t worry about it!”
“Wendy. I can’t do that,” he says. He’d love to. That’s the truth.
Wendy sighs with disappointment. “You need to sleep on it. You’re making a mistake. He’s a nice boy and the best assistant you’re ever going to have. He must be devastated. Maybe I should call him.”
“You have his personal number?” Bryan demands. Though it isn’t surprising. Samuel had picked them up from the airport last year when Bryan couldn’t get out of his meeting.
“Of course I do! You don’t get someone a pickle of the month subscription without a conversation or two first. Don’t fire him, you’ll regret it,” she warns.
“I’ve gotta go. I’m gonna go on a walk and think about it. Then I’m going to not Google pineapples.”
She makes a hmm sound that he instantly dislikes. “You know, just because Kathy was a tramp doesn’t mean you have to be a saint. It’s okay to live a little.”
“I live fine.”
“Scooter is great company but you need more than that.”
“I’m not gay,” he says, surprised he even has to say it.
“You could be bi?”
“I genuinely don’t see how that helps anything.”
“He does have that unhealthy obsession with Chris Evans,” Ryan says in the background.
“That’s not true,” Bryan says, and presses his napkin to his damp forehead. He is definitely sweating.
“Honey, you made us watch that terrible Christmas movie he did with the Rock last year. And then you did 50 push-ups and went on a run,” Wendy’s voice is gentle.
“How does that make me gay?” Bryan demands.
“You said he shouldn’t be allowed to do a movie with his shirt on.”
“He is in fantastic shape. That’s something to aspire to.” He wipes the back of his hand against his forehead again. Perhaps he’s ill? Maybe he left the heating on?
“We had to watch that Red Sea Diving Resort twice. You paused the movie on the scene where he gets out of bed naked.”
“I had to go to the bathroom!”
“That isn’t the defense you think it is,” she mutters.
“I have to go,” he says. This is ridiculous.
“Just don’t do anything rash,” she begs. “He’s so sweet! He’s practically family!”
“We like him more than you!” Ryan shouts.
Family is a curse.
“Wendy, listen to me very closely. Do not call Samuel,” Bryan demands.
She makes a sound that could be agreement, but he knows damn well it isn’t and hangs up the phone.