7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Cade
Cade ran from the “L” station with his dress shirt and jacket on a hanger, fluttering behind him much like a cape. His dress shoes were in his messenger bag, and he prayed his department manager was caught in traffic somewhere. He’d stayed late at his night job where he worked as a waiter and weekend go-go boy in Andersonville, and he’d overslept for his day job—menswear salesman at a department store downtown.
It had been a month since he’d lost his job at Triad. It had been a month since he’d seen Fiona, and it had been a month since he’d spoken with Ford Thomas or Jackson Delacroix. Oh, he saw Jax on television for the daily reports from training camp, and as Ford had predicted, Jax had shaved off his gorgeous hair and had grown a beard, which was a bright shade of red. He did, indeed, look like a leprechaun. A jacked up one with arms as big as Cade’s waist and thighs the size of tree trunks.
He’d seen Ford through the peephole if he happened to be home getting ready for job two and Ford happened to be going to his club. It was funny, because the place Cade worked, Pat Down, was a bar during the early week, but on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights, it was a club where Cade danced on a stage with guys who were a lot less classy than the ones he’d met at Ford’s club. It made him sad he wouldn’t be able to work with the crew from Fairytails , but he couldn’t—wouldn’t—be a charity case and allow himself to be used for his neighbors’ sexual gratification when they needed someone to fuck.
He hurried to the back room to change into his dress shirt, tie, and jacket, along with his dress shoes. He went to his locker and slipped off his sneakers while liberally applying deodorant after he patted down his upper body with paper towels. He pulled on his shirt and grabbed his tie to take to the men’s room where he could use the mirror to tie it. He couldn’t do it blind as his father was able to do. He supposed it would come in time with more practice.
Lonny James walked into the restroom and smiled. “Hey, Cade. Harry’s looking for you. I told him you’d been with a customer, so tell him the guy gave you the runaround and bolted. Do we need to get you an alarm clock?” Lonny asked with a cute smile as he went to the urinal.
Lonny was the one nice guy Cade worked with. He was in night school, working to get his master’s degree, and he’d guessed right away Cade was gay. He was gay as well, and they’d gone out one Sunday evening for pizza, quickly discovering they weren’t compatible because they were both dedicated bottoms. They’d become good friends, though, which was what Cade really needed.
“Thanks, Lonny. I overslept and the first train was too crowded, so I had to wait for the second one. How’s school?” Cade combed his hair and slicked on a little pomade to keep it tamed. It was longer on the top than he usually wore it, and it had some curl. The pomade kept it in place during the day and then allowed him to style it for the nights he worked at the club.
He also had a makeup kit in his messenger bag to transition into the navy satin-shorts-wearing waiter he became at seven o’clock on Monday through Wednesday. On Thursday through Saturday nights, he wore dark blue Speedos, a policeman’s hat, and aviator shades, along with a pair of black boots. He had a chain with mini handcuffs that hung around his neck and a belt around his waist where a holster held a water gun filled with tequila. For ten bucks, Cade would shoot it into a customer’s mouth and supply the lime with his teeth after the guy licked salt off Cade’s chest.
It wasn’t exactly dignified, but the tips kept a roof over his head and food on his table—the same one that technically still belonged to Jax Delacroix, along with the bed where Cade slept.
Parting with those things—and the black recliner in the living room side of his place—was harder than Cade could have imagined, but he was determined to do it on Sunday evening after he got off work at the store. The day job was strictly for the business contacts; the night job was for the tips.
“Midterms were okay. I just have to get through another three weeks and I’m done until September. I got that internship you told me about. Thanks, man.” Lonny patted Cade’s shoulder.
Cade was glad to hear it. He’d sent Lonny to interview with his father’s company, but he knew Hudson’s people would pick up on how intelligent Lonny was and hire him on the spot.
“That’s great, Lon. Look, I owe you for covering for me. Lunch anytime, you name it,” Cade offered.
Lonny laughed and looked at the ground before he met Cade’s gaze in the mirror. “Are you working at the club tonight? I met a guy, and I’d like to invite him there for a drink. I wanted to make a good impression, so I thought maybe if we sat in your section, you’d give me your discount and maybe a little special treatment? I won’t abuse it, I swear, but he’s so fuckin’ hot, and I want to ask him out for more than a drink.”
Lonny had found out about Cade’s night job when he walked in while Cade was changing into his dress shirt on Tuesday morning. After Cade explained he didn’t have an aggressive boyfriend, just an aggressive customer who was like a fucking Hoover when he sucked the salt off Cade’s chest, they had a good laugh about it.
“Sure. What’s his name?” Cade asked as he washed his hands.
He saw Lonny looking around the room and he knew something was up. “Lonny James, what’s the guy’s name?”
“His handle is The Riffer. We met online, okay? I’m not good at approaching guys in bars, Cade. We’ve been chatting on the app and texting now for almost two weeks, and I invited him to meet me at the club tonight at eight. That’s okay, right? Being out in public is safe?” Lonny seemed worried.
Cade wrapped his arm around the lanky kid’s waist and led him out of the men’s room into the break room. “I’ll treat you as if you were the queen herself. Now, let’s get out there before Harry has a cow on the sales floor.”
An hour later, Cade was straightening one of the fitting rooms when Harry, or Harrelson Marchbanks, his boss, came flying into the room. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he snapped in his bitchy, lisp-ish way.
Harry was as flamboyant as any guy Cade had ever met. Even more so than his twink friends from the club days, but Harry claimed—with a straight face—he was married to a woman and had three kids. He even had pictures of them, though he wasn’t in any of them. Cade wondered if they were stock photos—like those inside a picture frame in a department store.
“I was with a customer who dipped out on me after he put together a large order. After I put all of it away, I came in here to clean out this mess. What can I do for you?” Cade stretched the truth like an elastic waistband on basketball shorts.
Harry was about six feet tall, but he weighed around a buck fifty, if Cade was guessing right. He was probably in his mid-forties, and he had an ever-present pinched look on his face. Cade thought maybe the guy had been handsome back in the day, but he guessed when the man married a woman to hide his sexuality, it took the light from his eyes. They were muddy brown and cold on a good day.
“I have a customer coming in for a fitting at two, and I want you to assist. He’s new, and you’re good looking. I think he’s gay, and I wouldn’t know what to say...” Harry shrugged, leaving the rest of the comment unsaid.
“So, you’re going to pimp me out to a new customer you think is gay just so you can get his business? Do I have to blow him, too?” Cade didn’t try to hide how insulted he felt. Harry was an asshole.
Harry grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into one of the fitting rooms, hurriedly closing the door. “Not so loud, Kincade. It’s nothing like that. It’s just because you’re personable, and I don’t come off as being so upon first meeting. I hoped maybe you could maintain conversation with the man and find out his tastes while I get his measurements. If you don’t want to share the commission…”
Of course, commission was the magic word to a guy who was living paycheck to paycheck—even if he had to blow the guy. The street life wasn’t far from Cade’s future if things didn’t pick up.
“I didn’t say that. What’s his name?”
“I don’t know. He’s a referral from one of my regulars. This is a discrete business, son, as you’ll learn over time. Our customers don’t want their personal business bandied about like yesterday’s news. Sometimes, we hear phone calls where information is exchanged which could be construed as somewhat, uh, scandalous or intimate, but we learn to keep things to ourselves. The best customers tip us for that type of service. You’ll build your own clientele if you learn to garner trust and offer discretion.” Was Harry suddenly trying to mentor him?
Not if I have any say in this bullshit! Cade hated the job, but it was one he was able to get quickly, and he wasn’t digging ditches. Life could be worse.
Cade was in the bathroom brushing his teeth after lunch. He looked up to see another coworker, Gerard, breeze in. He worked from noon until eight, and Cade had seen him making the rounds at the clubs in Andersonville. He’d seen him in Pat Down a few times, though Cade was fortunate enough to be wearing his cop’s hat and sunglasses when the ass showed up, so he didn’t think Gerard recognized him.
“Hello, Gerry.” Cade was in the mood to antagonize the guy. He’d heard Gerard scold one of the seamstresses when she called him Gerry. It turned out the woman was his aunt who’d helped him get the job, but it didn’t matter to the diva.
“What’s your name again?” Gerard asked, pretending he didn’t know Cade every time they worked the same shift.
“Kincade. We work every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday together, along with every other Saturday.” He tried not to laugh at seeing the bright red on Gerard’s cheeks, clearly showing his agitation.
“Hm. You’d think I’d remember that, but then again, you’re not very remarkable. If you’ll excuse me, Kenneth.” Gerard stomped away.
Cade chuckled at the guy’s fake arrogance. Cade guessed the guy was likely a shy little boy deep down.
At precisely 1:59, Cade heard the counter bell ring. He was busy sorting and refolding ties because some kid of about ten, who was in the department with his mother looking for a gift, had decided to make a huge mess. Apparently, the mother could only concentrate on one thing at a time, and as she perused the men’s attaché cases, she didn’t see her son tying the expensive ties together at the table like a daisy chain. Harry had escorted the boy back to the mother after he dispatched Cade to clean up the mess.
Cade glanced over the racks to see a tall man in a baseball cap standing at the counter with no salesmen in sight, so he hurried over to the counter. “Good afternoon, sir. How may I be of…” Oh shit!