20. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
Noel
“ T his deal is not going to happen if he keeps making demands. The contracts are drawn up and ready to go, this is getting ridiculous now,” I seethed. My lawyer sat, legs crossed, in the seat on the other side of my desk. Archer Flynn had been with Bennett Properties for the last four years. He was young, having only recently graduated when he joined the company. But he was quick witted and smart and I didn’t ever want to land on the bad side of his sharp tongue.
“I know, Noel. And I have said as much to his lawyers. The man is old and frail and holding on to that property even though he is crumbling in debt.”
The property we were talking about was a large derelict hotel built in the late nineteen thirties. It was situated a stone's throw from Turtle Creek Park in Dallas. It wasn’t the hotel I was after though, it was the land. But that was part of the problem. When Mr Willis learned I wanted to tear down his family-owned hotel, his demands increased. And to date, I’d met every one, including agreeing to keeping the original fountain that stood in his once thriving rose garden. I was also offering far more than the property was worth.
“Offer him another ten thousand but then that’s it. If he won’t sign after that, then we’re out. I’ll find another spot of land in Dallas to put a Bennett Hotel on.” It was times like this that I really wanted to pack it all in. I didn’t care about hotels in Dallas, or anywhere to be frank, but my father did. He’d wanted this specific spot for years and even though he no longer had any say in the running of the business, I wanted to give him this.
“Fine,” Archer said as he pushed his chair back and stood. “But just know that you may lose it.” That was a risk I was going to have to take. I’d spotted a few strands of grey hairs this morning and it was probably this fucking job giving them to me.
“Understood. Thanks Archer.”
“No problem, Noel. I’ll keep you posted.” He left my office and I spun around in my chair until I was facing the floor to ceiling window that looked out onto the busy streets below. I had two offices in New York. One in a large office block downtown, and this one on the top floor of our flagship hotel, The Starlight. I preferred working from here because not only was it quieter, and plusher, it had the added bonus of being on the same floor as one of my private hotel suites. The same suite that I often spent the night in with my men. We’d only ever spent a few nights at the other hotel - my pied-a-terre - because this one was far more convenient and larger.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I turned to my desk and began reading through a contract Archer had left with me for a property we were buying in Paris. Bennett Hotels had started as beach resort hotels back when my great great grandfather started the company but now, we were expanding into major cities as well as increasing our number of beachfront properties. While most were five star residences, with price tags to match, we’d recently added a handful of budget hotels under our umbrella. It was my hope that Bennett Properties could one day be an affordable choice for thousands more people. Those looking for luxury without all the added frills. It was optimistic but I was one determined motherfucker.
My father had welcomed the idea. He may be one of the wealthiest men in the United Kingdom, but he was humble.
Just because you have money, Noel, it doesn’t make you better than anyone. Never forget that. He’d told me that once when I was fourteen and I’d remembered it every day since. Arthur Bennett was not an outwardly affectionate man but he was honest and considerate.
As I flipped to another boring page of legalese, my phone rang and I smiled, pleased to see my mother’s name on the caller ID.
“Hi mum, this is a nice surprise.”
I could hear soft music in the background as she spoke. “Hi Noely, how’s my baby boy?”
“Mum, I’m thirty seven, you remember that right?”
She sighed back at me, that loving yet exasperated sound only a parent could master, “Well obviously I know that Noel, I did carry you myself for nine months and destroyed my lady parts pushing you out. You’ll always be my baby boy though.”
“Bloody hell, mum, seriously?” My mother - Isla - was the polar opposite of my father. Where he was quiet, she was a whirlwind of colour and noise. She was beautiful and sophisticated and rarely ever complained. She doted on my father and on me, spoke her mind constantly and spent her days trying to make the world a better place.
“Alright, child of mine who is thirty seven,” she joked, and I pushed my seat back further so I could rest my feet on my mahogany desk. “How are you? You haven’t called in a while and I was beginning to worry.”
Guilt gnawed at me, a churning, tumbling sensation in my stomach. “I’m sorry, mum. Things have been really busy here.”
“Dad told me about Dallas, is that all going well?”
I fiddled with my tie, pulling it loose while I spoke. “It will be once Archer irons out some wrinkles.”
“Oh, lovely boy, that Archer. Very handsome. Very capable.” My mother’s subtlety was like a giant pimple on a first date - very hard to miss.
“He’s good at what he does, yes. But I’m sure you didn’t call to quiz me on the people I work with. What’s up mum?”
The silence over the line was telling and I braced myself for her next words, clasping my free hand to the armrest of my leather chair.
“It’s your dad, Noel. He’s not getting any better. This new medication is making him feel terrible but the doctors said that’s a side effect and it should hopefully settle down. He misses you and you haven't been coming over as much as you used to.” Her words were a dagger to my already clenching stomach, because it was coming. Her real reason for the call and the one topic I wasn’t ready to discuss.
His heart attack almost two years ago had left him with irreparable damage to muscles of the organ but with medication, he was doing well. But how long he would stay that way was an unknown.
“I think it’s time for you to come home. Move your office back to London and be closer to us, to him.” There it was - the guilt inducing truth - my parents wanted me home.
Before Branson and Milo, I was spending at least a week a month back there but I hadn't been back since I'd started seeing them. It wasn't only because of them though. On my last visit, just after the wedding, Dad had seemed well and I'd convinced myself he was fine, and that as a result he didn't need me around as much. It was my way of dealing with the truth - that his health was deteriorating. For as smart as I was, this was one area I couldn't think rationally about, losing my dad was not something I wanted to consider.
Foolish, I know, and not for the first time since his heart attack, did my gut swirl with the guilt of what a bad son I was.
When he got ill and my parents returned to the UK, to the family estate, I should have followed. There was no reason the company had to be run from here. None whatsoever. But I didn’t want to admit that I was slowly losing him and moving back would be admitting that to everyone.
Neither of my parents had ever outwardly asked me to come home, content with my regular visits but I’d promised myself that if they ever did, I wouldn’t hesitate. But things were more complicated now. Rubbing at the ache behind my breastbone, I replied, “I can’t mum. Not right now.” My voice was quiet and child-like, the way it used to sound when I confessed to stealing sweets from the pantry when I was ten. A hint of sadness and fear ingrained in my words.
“Roman can handle anything pressing in the States if it’s business you’re worried about.” Roman was my much younger cousin. He wasn’t blood related but part of our family by marriage and while he was trustworthy and owned a small share in the company, he had no desire to sit in a corporate job. He had bigger, greater goals in mind.
“It’s not the business mum, it’s…” Did I want to get into this now? We’d been seeing each other for almost two months and I was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that Milo and Branson were it for me.
“It’s?” My mother’s voice broke through my thoughts, but she didn’t give me time to reply before she added, “Are you seeing someone? Is that what you’re not saying?”
Nodding though she couldn’t see me, I told her the truth. I knew she’d accept both of them as mine. She had no problem with me being bisexual, and I couldn’t picture her having issues with me being in a polyamorous relationship.
“Someones, actually. I have two incredible boyfriends. It's pretty new but I'm really happy. They're both amazing.” For the briefest moment, I felt so light and carefree, happy that I’d told her about them, something I should have done weeks ago. Milo and Branson had quickly become the centre of my universe.
Mum was quiet on the other end of the line, her voice gentle when she finally spoke.
“Two? Are you sure that’s wise, Noel? I don’t mean to stick my nose in where it is not wanted but this seems a little…. unconventional, don’t you think? I mean, I presume this means they know about each other and it’s not a case of hiding one from the other?”
I loved my mum and I knew that she meant well, I also knew she wouldn’t really have an issue with my relationship if she knew how much they both meant to me and how serious it was.
“Yes, mum. I’m in a committed relationship with two men. We’re all really happy together. I’ve never felt this way about anyone and I know society is adamant that people pair off, but relationships are so much more than that predefined notion.” I was starting to feel defensive, only too aware of how cruel the world could be towards anything it deemed as ‘outside the norm’. Well, anyone with a narrow mind could fuck right off as far as I was concerned.
“Okay, Noely. I understand, and you’re right. I’m sorry if it seemed like I was judging you, I promise that is not the case. I only ever want you to be happy. Is it serious?” I swung my feet off the desk and paced the length of the window, watching as cars battled through traffic below.
“It is for me and I think it is for them too.” For the past seven weeks we’d been together most nights. Usually in one of my suites but on the rare occasion in their tiny apartment, where we’d spend hours together before I went home. My favourite nights though were the ones where we stayed together all night. Eating room service, then stumbling into bed, or the shower, a mix of limbs, and lips, groans and sweet words until we were covered in a mixture of sweat and cum - and alcohol as seemed to be mine and Milo’s version of foreplay. Then, we’d fall into bed and hold each other - Branson snuggled between Milo and I - until the sun rose and the working day called.
I didn’t believe in soulmates - or I hadn’t anyway, but I was certain Branson and Milo were made just for me. That we were made for each other. Call it fate, or destiny or just plain luck that they had both ended up in my life but it felt as though we were exactly where we were always meant to be.
“And that’s why you can’t come back.” It wasn’t a question and the resignation in her voice didn’t go unnoticed. A deep ache pulled in my chest - a tug between going home where she and dad wanted me and staying here with the men I couldn’t picture being without.
“Yes.” That was all I could say because I didn’t have an answer on how to be in two places at once.
“I’m sorry mum. I’ll come visit soon, I promise.”
“It’s okay Noely, we understand, and we’d like that very much. I love you.”
“Love you too mum. Give my love to dad.”
I hung up the call and slumped into my office chair, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders and my chest. Resting my head on my desk, I took in two deep steadying breaths. I still had four hours left of the day, and two meetings to get through before I could go home and see my men. I hadn’t needed them more than I did right then.
Sitting back up, I grabbed my phone and opened my messages to our group chat, aptly named “My boyfriends are hot” by Branson and typed out a message:
Me: Can you stay at mine tonight? At the Starlight.
A few minutes later, Milo replied.
Milo: I finish early today, I’ll pick up takeout. See you later.
It took Branson half an hour to reply and I busied myself with the final readthrough of the contract on my desk while I waited.
Kitten: Count me in. You okay, daddy?
God, I loved that he still called me that, and so freely. I thought maybe after the initial few times together it would stop but it hadn’t. Even Milo had taken to referring to me as ‘your daddy’ when speaking to Branson. I couldn’t wait for this day to be over and to have them naked and in my bed again. The thought had heat rushing to my dick, and I adjusted it to a more comfortable position.
I shot off a reply just as my office phone rang.
Me: I’ll be better when I’m with you two.
I answered my phone to a frustrated Archer, “Not the best news, boss,” he started, and I rolled my head back against the headrest. Fuck my life.