Chapter 20
TWENTY
Blake
He was in front of the old library, a simple but elegant red brick building with dark green window trim.
When Blake first moved to the city, he’d rented a tiny studio in a dingy apartment building a few blocks away.
Although he’d never been a big reader, he’d spent many weekends wandering the maze-like rows of bookshelves in the stacks.
There were a lot of hidden corners and dead ends in the deep recesses of the library, and with their dim lighting, the stacks had become a prime hookup spot.
Blake had many fond memories of fucking guys from behind, grabbing the bookshelves for leverage as he pounded their asses, rushing to finish before they were caught.
He found it endlessly amusing that the best spot in the library for some sexy fun was a dark corner on the third floor where they shelved the books on human sexuality.
Ethan was standing on the sidewalk outside the library, and smiled when Blake shut his car door and jogged over to meet him.
After a quick hello kiss, Blake asked, “How was the meeting about the internship?”
“Actually, that’s why we’re here.”
“Will you be working in this building?” Blake looked up at the windows of the third floor, to the place where some of his favorite hookups had taken place.
They were a reminder of a time when he was just a cute, slightly chubby guy in a baseball cap, and not a porn superstar.
“I haven’t been here in a long time. I used to live around here. ”
“Oh great. So you know what it used to look like inside?”
“Yeah?” Blake furrowed his brow. “What’s going on?”
“It’s best if I show you.”
Blake followed Ethan up the concrete steps and past the decorative lion sculptures, which Blake had long ago named Chompy and Buttmunch. The library’s door was a heavy slab of dark-stained oak.
Pushing open the door, Ethan motioned for Blake to go in ahead of him.
Blake strolled inside but stopped dead in his tracks after a few steps.
The elegant reading room that he remembered, with its long tables and comfy chairs, was gone.
In fact, most of the walls on the ground floor were gone, replaced by chunky square columns.
Cubicles and tables dotted the space, and two spacious, glass-walled conference rooms had been built in the space where the children’s books used to live.
Underfoot, the low-pile industrial carpet was the color of dirty dishwater.
People in nice tops and scruffy jeans – the Zoom meeting uniform – sat hunched over their laptops or scrolling on their phones, ignoring the people around them. A woman at the front desk glanced over briefly, smiled at Ethan, and returned her attention to her computer screen.
“What the fuck happened to the library,” Blake whispered, afraid to raise his voice in the sterile, cavernous space.
“Orison happened.”
Ethan led Blake to a long counter with stools that stretched across the front window. He lowered his voice. “My dad’s company is buying up old properties to turn them into these co-working spaces. They’re the ones that made the offer to Virgil. Orison really wants The Firehouse.”
Blake scanned the room again, trying to picture the floor plan and decor he remembered. “To do this?”
“Yes. They want to gut the building and modernize it. They don’t give a shit about its history. All they care about is the facade. If I took the internship, I’d be part of this project.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Well.” Ethan took Blakes’s hand. “I hate that some heartless corporation might swoop in and take away something you love. If you’re open to the idea, I’d like to partner with you.
It would involve more than just writing the business plan.
I’d work alongside you to make the club a success.
Together we can preserve a piece of gay history, and build something amazing for the future. ”
Blake thought for sure he must be misinterpreting Ethan’s words. Was he actually saying he’d turn down a job with his father to work with him? “You want to be my business partner?”
“I really do.”
“Okay.” Blake smiled. “I mean, yes, I’d love that. But what will your dad say when you tell him you want to help the guy who’s getting in his company’s way?”
“Maybe I don’t mention that right away. I’ll start with letting him know I’m turning down the internship for a different opportunity.” Ethan pointed at a door along the side wall. “I rented a conference room for the hour. Will you stay with me while I call him?”
Blake nodded and followed Ethan into the small, windowless room.
The walls were painted an odd yellowy-beige color that probably had a pretentious name like “almond frost.” A circular table took up most of the space, surrounded by four chairs with uncomfortable plastic seats.
The whiteboard on the wall was covered with ghostly pink smudges.
Ethan sat next to Blake and dialed his dad’s number. He held his finger to his lips for the shhh signal and put his phone on speaker.
Ethan’s father answered on the third ring. “How did the meeting with Jerry go?”
“It was very…” Ethan glanced over at Blake. “Informative.”
“Well, Jerry was impressed by you. He’ll help you find a schedule––”
“Dad.”
“—that fits around your classes––”
“Dad.”
“What?”
“I’m really grateful for Jerry’s offer, but I’m going to pursue a different opportunity.”
The line went silent for several seconds. Blake was concerned the call had dropped. Then Howard spoke again, his voice measured, and carrying a slightly accusatory tone. “You found an internship with another company?”
“No. I want to go into business with Blake.”
“Blake?”
“My boyfriend?”
“Oh. I see.”
“He’s opening a nightclub, and I want to help him.”
The line was silent again, and Blake braced for the worst. Judging from the man’s tone, Ethan’s father wasn’t a fan of him or the club.
Ethan rushed ahead to fill the silence. “I’m writing a business plan, which gives me a jump on the term project for my entrepreneurship class.
And the club, well, I’ve wanted to make a difference in the gay community.
This will be a safe space where people can come together in person, rather than meeting each other through hookup apps.
” His gaze flicked to Blake, then back to the phone. “You know, a respectable place.”
After a hmm noise, Howard said, “I may have underestimated your boyfriend. He’s not just a bartender, apparently.”
Ethan nudged Blake’s knee with his own. “He’s pretty special. And he has an inspiring vision for the club.”
“Is this going to be a dance club?”
“Um…” Ethan’s knee bounced restlessly under the table, and he squirmed in in his seat. “It’s um… it’s a piano bar,” he finally blurted. “A classy bar, like The Baritone Lounge.”
That’s not right at all. Confused by the mistake, Blake opened his mouth to speak, but Ethan shook his head, his eyes wide, a pleading expression on his face.
“That’s a lovely establishment,” Howard said. “Orison has hosted company dinners there. To be honest, I’m surprised by the news, since this is the first I’m hearing about it, but I’m impressed by your initiative.”
Ethan lit up at the hint of pride in his father’s voice. To Blake, it was reminiscent of a child’s glee the first time a parent displayed one of his scribbled drawings on the refrigerator door.
“It’s risky, though,” Howard said, “starting a business venture with someone you’re dating.”
“I thought of that. I’m suggesting Blake get an LLC and hire me as an employee.”
What? We haven’t discussed any of this yet. Should I know what that means? A familiar sense of dread started creeping through Blake’s body.
“That’s smart,” Howard said, and Ethan’s smile beamed even brighter. “I’m concerned that it’s the type of business that’s hard to make profitable, but the experience will teach you a lot. Just make sure to protect yourself, son.”
Protect yourself. Blake flashed to the instructions before a flight. In the unlikely event of a crash, put your mask on first. Then if there’s time, you can try and help the sorry sucker next to you.
Ethan and his father said their goodbyes, and Ethan hung up. He looked over at Blake, with that radiant smile still plastered on his face. “That went well.”
Blake crossed his arms and sat back in the cheap chair, its plastic back digging into the sensitive muscles under his shoulder blades. Irritation tingled under his skin like static.
“You lied to your dad,” he said. “I don’t want to open a piano bar.”
“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just, my dad is weird about sex stuff.
It’ll be easier to tell him it’s a burlesque club once we have a successful business on our hands.
If we’re profitable, it’ll soften the blow.
” He held out his hand. “I hope that doesn’t make things awkward.
Because I’m all-in on your vision. I want to be part of this. ”
Blake took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. The lie still stung, but was it a deal-breaker? It took him time before he could be honest with his mother about his porn movies. The adult industry was a sensitive issue with parents.
He relented and shook Ethan’s hand. “All-in.”
Blake brought to mind all the discussions they’d had about the club, and the assurances Ethan had needed about the types of acts they’d be performing. It wasn’t just Ethan’s dad who was “weird about sex stuff.” Was Ethan ashamed to be associated with a burlesque club?
A quieter thought whispered on the fringes of Blake’s awareness.
(Is he ashamed of me?)