Chapter 5
Clay
I lay around and cleared away the breakfast dishes and lunch dishes, then placed them into the dishwasher, a luxury Marty had bought and had installed with much resistance from Tyler.
Tyler was the practical one. He didn’t want to spend money on anything if he couldn’t take it with him when they moved.
That was all they talked about, moving out of this apartment.
I’d forgotten there wasn’t much to place in the dishwasher or by hand if I felt like washing them.
Tyler had given us rules and unless the dishwasher was full we weren’t allowed to turn it on.
We had to save water and electricity. Turn off the lights, and he had this thing about saving trees. No paper plates.
For some reason my spirits were high, and I was in the mood to clean my area too. We had run out of everything, so I placed some cash in an envelope and wrote a note.
Buy what you need. Don’t thank me because I couldn’t thank you two enough for taking me in, and allowing me to barge into your life and home.
At this moment I felt great. It always felt great when a man had a little money in his pocket, and I had more than enough to share with men who gave me their all when I needed encouragement and a lift from the boredoms of destitution and everyday living.
I reached and passed my hand over my suit, admiring the fabric which had the appearance that someone had pressed it.
Perhaps someone had. I had been used to buying my suits at an outlet, and if it had come wrinkled like my interview suit, I’d have to iron it myself.
Or I’d take it to the cleaners to get it altered with my last bit of money.
That was the suit I had purchased, or my father purchased for my interviews when I strode into Mason’s firm with my head up showing no fear on the outside, but feeling I wasn’t good enough in the inside to be looking for a position at Mason and Halifax.
When I glanced at my phone, it was 4 p.m. I had timed everything just right to get to the office on time and see Mason so he could inspect my attire since he had said he would be my mentor.
The party started at 6 p.m. and would end around 10 p.m. Everyone would be drunk by then and there were cars available to drive them home.
I had planned on taking a cab with my new signing bonus.
Before I’d dressed, I sprayed on the cologne I’d always wanted, but couldn’t afford.
Who paid three hundred for a bottle of cologne by Tom Ford?
Not me, but here I was spraying it into the air and walking into it.
I had seen someone do that. I didn’t want Mason to smell me before I got there.
I wanted him to get close to me and then say something.
But why would he compliment a man? Straight men don’t compliment men and especially younger men, I thought.
Deep down I’d hope Tyler and Marty were right and wrong.
There I was dreaming about Mason as I glared into the floor to ceiling mirror on the door leading into my friends’ bedroom when Marty opened the door and stepped out. He whistled. “Damn, but you look like you’ve just stepped on to a runway.”
I tried to carry myself as if I was used to wearing a suit like this. That Tom Ford wore me and owned me. I didn’t own it. I couldn’t see anything but that suit, and no one else would be able to see me for that attention grabbing suit and those shoes with a shine like a mirror.
“I don’t feel comfortable in this suit, Marty.”
“What are you going to do, take it off and put on one that cost fifty-nine dollars? The one in the closet you had for your interview?”
“I had hoped I could borrow a suit from you or Tyler? You’re about my size.”
“Be honest. Have you ever seen us wear suits? Our jobs don’t call for suits. We’re I.T. guys, and if we had money, we still wouldn’t wear suits. You were born to wear that suit, even if you think you weren’t. All you have to do is wear it. Head up and no slouching and you’ll be alright.”
Marty hit me on the shoulder. I guessed I needed that because it only took a few more seconds before I saw what he was talking about.
“Now go to that party and own it,” Marty encouraged.
Tyler strode out the closed door and glanced at me and whistled.
Then with a common cliché, he said, “You’ve heard the saying, fake it until you make it.
It’s a well-worn statement, but it has a lot of truth to it.
Now go out there and make every straight and gay man proud who never had a chance to wear one of those suits, but wanted one sometime in their life. ”
I nodded and straightened my shirt and placed my tie in my inside pocket, because I wanted Mason to tie the knot for me, even though I said I knew how. Yet I didn’t want Mason to think I was lying to him, therefore, I took more time to tie the Half Windsor knot.
I wanted him close to me, but I wanted his approval even more. Nevertheless, when a man got close to another man you could feel him. I wanted to feel him. Feel his spirit and feel his body if it came to that.
Finally, I stepped out into the evening and hailed a cab, because you couldn’t wear a suit like this on the bus in my neighborhood or any neighborhood. This suit required special treatment. A limo or an expensive sports car of which I had neither.
Tonight would be a good reason to let someone from Mason and Halifax drop me home in one of their limos.
When I stepped out of the cab, in front of the chrome and glass building, Mason’s limo had been driving up and slowed, then parked and the driver stepped out. I knew it was Mason because I observed Mason and his driver heading into the evening traffic the day I had been hired.
Gathering my courage and pretending I was the man I wanted to be one day I sauntered into the building and into the elevator.
The large elevator was crowded with people laughing and smiling at me.
“You must be a new hire.” How did he know that?
Did it show on my face or was it the new suit and a very expensive one at that.
Although I could tell the men wore designer suits not off the rack, and the women were holding expensive purses, still no one wore a suit like mine.
I didn’t want to stand out and yet I did.
I never wanted to stand out in college or law school, but I had.
I had all the answers, and I was somewhat of a nerd in school and college.
One of my professors had said to be prepared to have no friends because ‘no one likes a know-it all.’ But what could I do?
Pretend I was someone else just to satisfy the ones who never bothered to read their law books?
Or ask for help. He was wrong on one point.
I did have friends and not the fake kind, but real friends who were there when you needed them.
I had come from a working-class family and I had to make something of myself and work hard, and especially if I had let the world know I was gay. That alone had set me up for all kinds of things living in New Jersey and that was why I stayed in New York even if I had to sleep on my friends’ couch.
“We’re getting off now if you’ve going to the party, new hire.” I realized I hadn’t introduced myself and I had drifted into thinking about why I found myself here and wearing a suit I knew I wasn’t ready for.
Everyone piled out of the elevator, and I stayed and there wasn’t but one nosy man to look behind to see if I was behind them. Thank goodness the door closed and I headed up to the office area where Mason had his office.
When the door opened, I strode to the desk, and a young woman recognized me. “Mr. Clayton Winthrop, Mr. Mason is waiting for you. He said to show you in the minute you arrived.”
I didn’t know what to do because my heart had beat so loudly and my hands began to shake. I knew why this was happening because I liked this man, no I was in love with him, and I didn’t know why.
Could it be because he was so damned attractive and I wished he’d been gay?
I didn’t know if I could stay under those circumstances, but I’d signed a contract, and I had to honor it.
You didn’t fool around with lawyers, and I should know because it said Esquire on my business card.
Clayton Winthrop Esquire. This know-it all had passed the bar, and now I was available to practice law for the state of New York.
Once I realized that I was no longer a JD and out of law school and passed the bar, I felt better about myself. I had thought of myself the same little gay know-it all in high school and college, but I was no longer that boy anymore.
I was a man who earned the right to wear this suit, and be with a man like Mason if not Mason. Therefore, I strutted into Mason’s office owning that suit and the right to be there, and if it came to that, owning him.
Mason’s back was to me and when he heard my footsteps he turned with a knowing smile. “Very good, my boy. You are early as I had asked.”
Why wouldn’t I come early? I thought. This is the best break I’ve had in a long time.
He strode over to me and shook my hand. I placed my hand in his and his grip was hard and tight.
Yes, he’s a top, the aggressor, and he’s letting me know it.
My hand melted inside his and I knew on any other occasions when I shook men’s hands, my handshake had been firm and my grip was sturdy, but not with Mason.
We stared into each other’s eyes, my blueish greens into his steady light browns. I smelled his body, it was fresh and his aftershave was clear and soft, not overpowering. I was relieved when he stepped back, and said, “I see you’ve tied your necktie into a Half Windsor knot.”
Before I could say a word he reached and grabbed my tie and released the knot. Then he raised the collar of my shirt. “I’m going to tie it in a full Windsor Knot.” It took him all of a few seconds and he stood back and said, “Now that’s a power knot.”
Mason strolled closer to me with a smile and adjusted the large knot. He held the tie smiling, narrowing his gaze and peering at me. His teeth were perfect and polished. His hands large and manicured. He took both of my hands in his. “I can send you to my barber.”
He didn’t have to tell me, I knew, but I didn’t have time and before I couldn’t spare the money, so Marty volunteered to cut my hair and nails. After Marty relieved my nails of cuticles and after the blood had stopped flowing, I was good as new for my interviews.
“We have a salon on the 3rd floor and a barber shop and stylist.” I didn’t ask why he was telling me all this, because he’d appointed himself as my mentor. He was still holding on to my hands, when he said, “I will need you to work after hours with me.”
I didn’t want to owe anyone. I wanted to do things on my own, but I didn’t mind being near this man.
Then it occurred to me he was straight. And that’s when a light went off in my brain and oxygen was able to get there as well, and I began to breathe again and realize who I was—a young gay man desiring the attention of a straight complicated man in his thirties who happened to be married.
“Mr. Mason—”
“I like when you call me Mr.,” he said, flashing his serious brown eyes in my direction after he tucked the short end of the tie into the long end and what he did with the long end had my skin shivering in a good way.
“You should let the long end of the tie touch” and he placed his finger on my belt, “the tip of the belt and not here on your groin.” And he cupped my cock quickly that I wasn’t able to enjoy the moment, then he glanced up at me. “What a waste,” he stated with a closed smile and a sigh.
“I’m not understanding what you want from me,” I questioned, because I was trying to get him to say exactly what he wanted from me.
“I want...” he paused. “I want you to be the best lawyer in this firm. I saw your transcripts and your score on the bar exam, and you have a lot of potential and you’re young. I know you’re gay. No one told me I just know you are, and we have a lot of clients who need men they can relate to.”
“Is that why you hired me?”
“That and other things.”
“What other things, Mr. Mason?”
“You can go now, Clay.” That was unexpected. He followed me to the door, and he reached behind me and when I thought he was opening the door, he said again, “Clay,” his voice was soft and warm. I turned.
“What would you do if I were to kiss you?”
“Nothing, but it’s difficult if I’m working for you not to mention you’re married.”
“Let me worry about those things. Can I kiss you?” I wanted nothing more than to have him throw me on that couch and fuck me senseless, and kissing was the least of my desires.
“Is this a test?”
“No because you have the upper hand. You could sue me for what I’m about to do. I can’t resist you and I know you want this too.”
Then a knock came to the door and it was a female. “Clayton are you in there?”
“Give me a minute. I’m with one of my mentees.”
He opened the door with the flush and embarrassment playing on my face. I tried to smile as I strode through the door and passed the woman who I’d never seen. Perhaps she was his wife and it was confirmed when I passed his secretary.
“Mr. Winthrop are you going to the party? Would you mind if I accompany you,” the pretty young woman of twenty said.
She had been a godsend because I was ready to let this straight man kiss me and fuck up my chances to have a career before I got started.
I needed this time to breathe and hear Marty and Tyler’s words.
“Don’t get too drunk where you fuck one of the employees.
” I had gone to the top of the food chain.
I had lost my mind and prepared myself to let Mr. Mason kiss me, and who knew what was next because that leather couch was looking extremely tempting.
I could see myself lying on my back after the kiss and braced against it, hands wrapped around my legs holding them up in the air, and Christopher Mason staring down at me with that handsome face and those intense sexy brown eyes as he opened me up with his thick finger, and broke through my tight ring of muscles with his thick length.