What's In A Name? Chapter 10
WHAT’S IN A NAME?
Chapter Ten:
“Hello,”
“Mr. Kinney … Mr. Patrick Kinney?”
“Yes … that’s me.”
“Well … you don’t know me … but …”
“But I think I’m your son.”
Brian swallowed hard, the butterflies doing somersaults in his stomach and only now did he believe what he had just said. But he heard a sigh of annoyance on the other end of the phone; not exactly the reaction he was hoping for.
“Look … I don’t know what your game is,” came the response.
“I don’t think you understand,” cut in Brian, in reply to the man‘s obvious irritation.
“Oh … I understand alright,” came back Patrick, unwilling to allow Brian to continue further. “But there’s no way I’m your father …”
“Let me explain … my name is Brian Kinney …”
The man chuckled. “Do you know how many Kinney’s there are in the book?”
“Yes, I do,“ answered Brian, perhaps a little more forcefully than he‘d meant to. “There’s 54 in Pittsburgh alone,” he continued, hating to have to admit, even to himself, that he’d actually looked that up and he heard Patrick hesitate on the other end of the line before taking a breath.
“I repeat … there is no way I can be your father,” stated the older man, slowly and precisely.
“I’m very sorry … but you have the wrong person,” and with that, Patrick Kinney put down the phone.
Brian heard the buzz, but it took several moments for him to realize that the man had actually hung up on him. Slowly, Brian replaced the phone and then sat back in his chair, a lump in his throat and a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
So, there you have it. Either this wasn’t the man he was seeking after all or, more likely, he simply just didn’t want to know.
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Justin could tell something was wrong, immediately Brian came back down to the living room. It was Saturday morning, Gus was outside with a few friends kicking a soccer ball around; the season would start again soon and all the boys aimed to maintain their places on the team and wanted to get in some early practice.
Brian had gone up to his small office, saying he had a phonecall to make. He never said to whom, of course, but his manner did make Justin suspicious. It was several days since he’d given Brian the information he’d found out about Patrick and he knew Brian would want to mull it over before making any move, if in fact he ever would. But Brian’s ill-disguised deflated manner as he came back downstairs told Justin he’d received the answer he’d least been hoping for.
Brian caught Justin’s eye and saw how he was studying him. He never could get much passed the younger man and looking up to face him, Brian shrugged.
“He said he couldn’t be my father.”
“He didn’t want to know me,” came the confirmation Justin had realized was likely and then Brian forced a smile. “Can’t say I blame him … I’d probably react the same way.”
“If he only saw you …”
Brian shook his head. Certainly, the photograph of Patrick Kinney on his company’s website looked like an older version of himself and, if they’d met, Patrick might have been forced to reconsider. But he hadn’t even entertained the notion that he could be Brian’s father or given him the chance to explain further.
Justin momentarily closed his eyes and inwardly cursed himself for raking up history that probably should have stayed buried after all.
“I’m sorry,” Justin told him, his heart breaking for his partner, as he moved closer and Brian shrugged again.
“Fuck him …” his voice trailed off, but Justin could tell that deep down, having found the man that, on the face of it would indeed appear to be his father, only to be rejected out of hand, had left Brian deeply disappointed: It would seem he just wasn’t meant to have any meaningful paternal relationship.
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Having just got back from his daily jog to hear the phone in the kitchen start ringing as he let himself in the back door, Patrick wiped his face with the towel that was draped around his neck before answering. He might be 62, but he was in remarkably good health and as young looking as any man at least ten years his junior. He was in great shape and worked out at least twice a week at the gym as well as taking his run each day. And he had very little grey hair; just a few streaks at the temples. And he had hazel eyes.
“Is everything alright?” asked Edward, Patrick’s assistant, who had been signing for a delivery at the front door and unable to answer the phone in his employer‘s absence. Carrying the heavy box through to the kitchen, he’d found Patrick in his running gear and, with his hand still resting on the receiver, frowning.
“Hmm?” came the vacant answer, as if the man hadn’t really heard the question and Patrick rubbed the bridge of his nose with the back of his thumb.
“I couldn’t get to the phone in time,” explained his assistant further as he proceeded to open the box. “I keep telling the driver to come around back … and he ignores me every time,” continued Edward, obviously annoyed.
“That’s alright Edward … it wasn’t anything important,” answered Patrick and still thoughtful, he moved to the refrigerator and retrieved some bottled water. He eyed what Edward had placed on the kitchen table.
“Is that the Clos de la Roche?” asked Patrick as Edward pulled out a bottle to inspect the label.
“Yes … if everything is satisfactory, I’ll order more.”
Patrick chuckled. “At those prices, it better be,” he answered him, as he unscrewed the top of his water bottle.
“Oh … and, while you were on your run,” continued Edward. “Mrs. Andrews rang to thank you for the flowers.”
“I said you’d call her back.”
“Did you confirm the table at Giovanni’s?” asked Patrick after taking a swallow of water and Edward nodded.
“The best they had … and I also confirmed the string quartet you asked for.”
“Good,” smiled the older man. “A lady deserves a little spoiling on her birthday … can you make sure the car’s ready for 7:00 … and I’ll be driving myself this evening.”
Edward nodded and, as he replaced the bottle and then picked up the box to take through to the store-room, he inwardly grinned. ‘Driving myself’ usually meant an overnight stay and the lady whose birthday it was today had to be twenty years junior to her companion for the evening and, probably, the night.
As P.A. come housekeeper, now in his mid-forties, Edward had worked for Patrick Kinney for the past ten years, since his company had grown successfully and made him a very wealthy man, allowing Patrick to purchase quite the sizeable piece of real-estate in which he now lived and enjoy an extremely comfortable lifestyle. That didn’t mean the man had slowed down by much and still occasionally put in ten hour days at the office, though he did try and get in at least one round of golf each week.
Edward had seen a procession of very beautiful women come and go in his employer’s life. “Love ‘em and leave ‘em” seemed to be the man’s motto. But Edward had always wondered why it was he’d never married. There was certainly no question mark over the man’s sexuality; Edward was sure he would have picked up on that early on if there was and Patrick’s sexual appetite had, apparently, not diminished with the passing of years, though surprisingly, there were, apparently, no children from any of his liaisons.
Not unknown for his occasional romantic notions, Edward had wondered if, maybe, there had been someone in Patrick’s past who had broken the man’s heart and had made him wary of forming relationships that lasted more than a couple of months at a time. But one thing was for sure and that was there was never a shortage of desirable women in Mr. Kinney’s life.
As Edward withdrew, Patrick looked back over to the phone again and frowned, rolling his lips into his mouth as he did so. He then took another swallow from the bottle. That had to be one of the oddest phonecalls he’d ever had. But considering his wealth, it wasn’t strange for someone in his position to be the target of a scam and that was what had immediately come to mind. Patrick wasn‘t being flippant when he said he couldn‘t be the man‘s father; he believed it. But what was weird was that the caller had mentioned Pittsburgh, the city of Patrick’s birth, but he hadn’t been back to that city in over forty years.
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“Mrs. Andrews is a very lucky lady“, stated Edward, referring to the attractive divorcee with whom Patrick was dining that evening.
It was 6:45pm. and looking at Patrick’s reflection in the mirror, Edward helped the man on with his tux jacket and smoothed out the shoulders. Freshly showered, shaved and wearing a dress shirt, still open at the collar and with the bow tie waiting to be fixed, Patrick turned around to face Edward who automatically started to tie it for him; Patrick hated fiddling with those things.
“That’s good of you to say so,” replied Patrick in answer to Edward’s statement and he saw him bite his lip, as if wanting to say something further but decided otherwise. Which in itself was unusual; Edward wasn’t usually so backward in coming forward.
“Out with it,” requested Patrick and Edward shrugged and raising his head, the man brought his eyes up to meet Patrick’s bemused gaze.
“Oh … I was just thinking … she’s a very beautiful woman … you seem … very well suited.”
“Trying to marry be off … again?” suggested Patrick, smiling and Edward looked suitably horrified.
“As if I’d be that bold to sugggest …”
“It never stopped you in the past,” chuckled Patrick, not allowing Edward to finish.
“I have no desire to marry anyone,” confirmed the older man.
“Besides … she’s a lot younger me … I’m sure she wouldn’t want to get saddled with a man who could be her father … just,” Patrick added.
“Oh … I don’t know,” ventured Edward, almost completing his task.
“Yeah … well let’s not worry about my love life … what about yours?”
“Is Peter coming over tonight?”
“Yes … he‘ll be over later,” came the answer and then Edward frowned. “That’s not a problem is it?” he asked him and Patrick sighed.
“You know it isn’t … this is your home too,” reminded Patrick and having tied the tie, Edward moved over to the bed to pick up the man’s toweling robe. He was never expected to automatically tidy up after Patrick, but that was one of the reasons why he was always happy to, especially if the man was on his way out to an engagement or occasionally running late for a meeting. Patrick didn’t take him for granted.
“So … how long is it now … you and Peter I mean?” continued Patrick and he pulled on his cuffs to make the sleeves of his shirt comfortable beneath the jacket, as Edward disappeared into the bathroom to hang up the robe.
“Six months,” called out the other man in reply and returning to the bedroom, he hesitated in the doorway, frowning. “Why is it your love life is out of bounds … and yet mine is open for discussion?” queried Edward.
Frank and good natured exchanges, though often uncommon between employer and employee, had become the norm between the two men over the years and Patrick shrugged.
“Cos I’m the boss,” he told him, matter of factly and ignoring the other man‘s exasperated look. Patrick had rarely needed to assert his authority where Edward was concerned and occasionally, the odd fly on the wall might have wondered indeed who was working for whom, so casual could their banter be interpreted. And, in fact, Edward was grateful the man felt so at ease with him; there were plenty who weren’t.
“So is it getting serious?” continued Patrick, as Edward moved further into the room and he saw the man shrug.
“I’m not sure … we’re just taking it one day at a time.”
Patrick liked Edward a lot and the feeling was mutual. Edward had worked for him for almost a month before Patrick realized he was gay, but he had also quickly realized that the man’s sexuality had absolutely no bearing on how he carried out his duties, which was extremely efficiently and with the utmost discretion. Patrick valued the man’s advice enormously and he seemed to be skilled and knowledgeable about most things and invaluable in ensuring he still didn’t make the odd blunder or two.
Patrick hadn’t always lived in such fine surroundings or mixed in the circles he now found himself moving in. He was a self-made man from working class roots and while he’d never forgotten where he came from, Patrick had enjoyed teaching himself about and learning to appreciate, expensive wines, designer clothes and top end cars and possessions in general. Even now, he was still uncomfortable about being called Mr. Kinney, especially by Edward in his own home and had soon told him that in private it was Patrick and that it should only be Mr. Kinney when he was entertaining formally.
Having worked in other employment before, Edward had been a little fazed by this to begin with, but it soon became evident that Patrick never considered himself superior to anyone else and Edward had really become as much friend as employee. And, as such, the man had grown more comfortable in the last few years when it came to talking about his own love life and about bringing anyone back to the house, though it was only ever anyone he considered trustworthy enough. Patrick had a small, but reasonably valuable art collection and certainly liked to surround himself with good quality possessions and Edward didn’t want to allow anyone into his employer’s home who would jeopardize his position in Patrick’s trust. But Edward and Peter had grown ever closer in recent months and the other man had become a regular visitor and more often than not when he did visit, had stayed over.
Patrick accepted he had no say in Edward’s life outside of this house, but also accepted the man was entitled to a private life as long as his home was respected. But purely for selfish reasons, Patrick hated the thought of losing him, should he ever decide to leave.
“Is Peter wanting you to move in together?” asked Patrick, his eyes narrowing and he rolled his lips into his mouth as he realized he was asking the man a very personal question. He saw Edward shake his head. “We’re not lesbians,” he answered him and then seeing Patrick’s look of confusion:
“There’s a joke,” explained Edward. “That goes … what does a lesbian do on the second date?” and he saw Patrick shrug at the question.
“Move in,” came the answer and he saw Patrick frown.
“Don’t you want to live with him?” asked Patrick and then he put up his hand in acknowledging that he may have overstepped the mark for certain this time.
“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business,” he continued. “Except to say … I’d miss you … if you decided to leave that is.”
Edward had been waiting to see if Patrick needed anything else before he left for his engagement and hearing his employer rue the time he might consider leaving his employ, Edward smiled.
“Thank you … and I’d miss … working here too,“ answered Edward, trying to avoid saying outright that he’d certainly miss Patrick, not wanting his sentiments to be misconstrued, but he was sure the man knew in any case. Edward shrugged.
“But that’s a long way off … if at all.”
“In the meantime … we’re just enjoying ourselves,” and he saw the unmistakable twinkle in Patrick’s eye and he knew the man was about to rib him, as he often did, but always good naturedly.
“Well … as long as you watch out for the chandeliers,” Patrick grinned at him as he put on his watch and picked up his wallet, handkerchief and cell phone from the top of the dresser.
Edward sighed and then grinned back.
“Oh we’ve perfected a new method now …”
Patrick put up his hand to stop him. “Thank you Edward … I won’t need you any more this evening,” he stated quickly, putting an end to the conversation before it entered into the realms of too much information. And Edward grinned even more widely as he moved towards the bedroom door. “You did ask,” he informed him and Patrick couldn’t help smiling in acknowledgement as Edward moved out into the hallway.
“Edward,” called Patrick and hearing the other man’s voice, Edward halted, his hand still on the doorknob, and he took a step backwards in response.
“How’s about you and Peter sample a bottle of that Clos de la Roche over dinner?” suggested Patrick.
“Then you can tell me whether it’s worth ordering more,” he continued.
“You trust me?” queried Edward, knowing how expensive the wine was, but the look Patrick gave him in return confirmed as much. Edward also knew that Patrick’s offer was the man’s way off proffering a gift without saying as much.
“Thanks … we’d love to,” smiled Edward and he closed the bedroom door behind him.
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Brian decided not to say anything to Joan about trying to contact Patrick; he didn’t see what good it would do either of them to re-open old wounds further. Patrick was in both their pasts and there was no point in looking back and Brian resolved to leave him there.
A few days after the phonecall however, and when Brian had had time to recover from it, Justin had asked, gently, if he’d think about trying Patrick again, stating he might just have caught the man at a bad time. Brian had shaken his head. Patrick’s response had seemed pretty final to him, there was nothing to be gained in repeating his call. Even if Patrick was his father, obviously the man wasn’t open to being contacted.
“He’s probably got his family to consider,” Brian had shrugged and Justin had slipped his arms around the man’s waist.
“But you’re family too,” he’d told him, only for Brian to shake his head again and lean down to kiss him.
“I already have all the family I need,” Brian had told him earnestly.
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Joan had done as she’d promised and right after the Christmas break, had formally dropped any claim to Gus’ guardianship. Gus had resumed visiting Grandma Joan, who for the time being was still living with Claire, and she continued to progress nicely after her heart attack. Brian tried to drop by at least once a week and they both consciously made an effort to call each other every few days and so far, so good. They were actually starting to talk.
Joan seemed so much more content and less edgy these days and, as a consequence, even Claire was becoming more amenable. Having first asked Brian’s permission, Joan related to her daughter, the story of her relationship with Patrick, Claire’s uncle, though a man for whom she had no recollection. To say Claire was shocked by her mother’s revelations was an understatement. But suddenly, Joan wasn’t just a mother any more, though of course there were many times in the past when she‘d hardly fulfilled that role. But now she was a woman too, with emotions and failings and one with whom Claire could now relate to so much more.
Unbelievably, the splintered family that had once been the Kinney’s seemed to be growing closer every day, with increased understanding and affection. Miracles do happen, it would seem and it would also seem that Brian was getting back his sister as well as his mother. After all, they had been close at one time, as children; children in fear of their lives from a hard-drinking father, clinging together, hiding in the dark.
So, just when you think things have settled down and life for the Kinney/Taylor’s gets back to its usual, albeit sometimes chaotic normality, and in fact getting better all the time and evolving since the enormous changes that had occurred over recent months, something was bound to come along and bite them in their collective asses once more.
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Daphne had called and said she’d like to meet Justin for lunch if he could make it. She‘d made a point of saying she was working so wouldn‘t be able to get out to the house, so could they meet at a restaurant in town during her lunch break. She‘d tried to make it sound casual rather than a formal request to meet on neutral territory, but Justin knew his oldest friend too well. He hadn’t liked to ask her what was wrong over the phone however, as he much preferred talking to her face to face. But his heart almost broke in two when she told him why she wanted to see him and he understood now why she’d been so quiet that time after returning from her honeymoon, where obviously a discussion had taken place and had seemingly continued since that time.
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Brian was knee-deep in copy and boards for the Henderson Electronics campaign. They were arranged around his office at Kinnetik in order of their release dates and though he was pretty confident he had a handle on it, the deadline for the first airing was drawing ever closer and their continuity was paramount for its success.
Through the open doorway, he thought he heard Justin’s voice asking if he were busy, but before his P.A. could answer, Brian stepped outside.
“Never that busy,” smiled Brian and at the sound of his voice, Justin turned around to face him. Brian blinked and the smile quickly faded.
“Are you okay?” he asked him, frowning and as he crossed the short distance between them. But the expression on Justin‘s face confirmed his suspicions. The younger man shook his head but said nothing.
When they’d entered Brian’s office, Brian closed the door behind them. He contemplated retrieving the bottle of scotch from his desk drawer, but these days he was a little too responsible for that; they both had to drive home later. Instead, he headed for the coffee pot on the hot plate and poured out two strong cups. He handed one to Justin.
“Okay … this has something to do with your lunch with Daphne,” stated Brian, knowing what his partner’s plans had been for the day and that Justin’s agitation and dismay could only have something to do with Soleil.
“This has to be John’s way at getting at me,” stated Justin, repeating to Brian the words he’s spoken earlier to Daphne and then he proceeded to give him the gist of their earlier conversation.
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Daphne had tried to persuade him otherwise, she honestly didn’t believe that was the case herself, but knowing the distrust and distance that sometimes still existed between the John and Justin, she could understand Justin’s reasons for thinking that was so.
“Maybe he just wants Soleil to know she’s part of the family … his family,” suggested Brian after Justin had finished his heartfelt account, but he struggled to find an explanation the younger man could accept, and his partner only shook his head in despair.
“But she’s part of my family … our family too,” stated Justin, vehemently. “Don’t we have as much right in this as they do?”
Putting down his cup, Brian crossed the floor to where Justin was standing by one of the boards, still holding the drink he’d yet to taste. And when he reached him, he took the cup from Justin’s hand and placed it on his desk. Reaching out, his put his arm around the younger man’s shoulders and drew him closer.
“Whatever you decide to do in this … you know I’ll back you all the way,” Brian told him and Justin nodded and then considered Brian’s words.
“Go for sole custody you mean?” he asked him.
“I’m not sure … that or residency maybe,” shrugged Brian. “So that she’s with us the majority of the time and not with Daphne and John.”
Justin sighed. “I don’t know … I don’t know if I want to put my daughter through that,” he admitted. “Maybe even making her have to choose …”
“I know,” came back Brian. “But if that’s what you decide to do … I’ll back you.”
“So … will you sound her out about it?” asked Brian. Justin nodded. “Yeah … But I’ll talk to Daphne first … I have to be up front with her … but I think I will.”
“But would you be okay with that?” asked Justin. “Having Soleil with us I mean?”
“On a full-time basis?”
Smiling Brian nodded and pulled Justin in even closer. Justin had been there so many times for him in the recent months through the business with Joan and Gus and then regarding Patrick. He was glad of the opportunity to support him in return.
“Soleil’s a great kid … she’s your daughter,” stated Brian. “Which in turn … makes her part of me too,” he told him. Justin smiled up at him, remembering again why he loved this man. But then he frowned, sighed and moved away.
“But … aren’t I being selfish?”
“After all … look what we just went through … with Gus and Joan … look what it did to us,” pointed out Justin, but the older man had shaken his head.
“That was different.”
“You’re Soleil’s father … it’s not like you skipped town and wanted to have nothing to do with her,” answered Brian and Justin had nodded in agreement.
“Okay … I’ll go for it,” he told him.
When Daphne had told Justin of John’s plans to adopt Soleil, Justin couldn’t believe his ears and that they would actually do that to him.
“Because if she takes anyone’s name … it’s gonna be mine,” emphasized Justin, earnestly.
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To Justin’s credit, he didn’t want to get lawyers involved unless he had to of course and he laid out his objections to Daphne and John, to John’s apparent intention to adopt Soleil and to give her his name. That was just one step too far.
In her heart of hearts, Daphne couldn’t help agreeing with him. As much as she wanted John to acknowledge that Soleil was a permanent feature in their lives, she knew how much it would hurt Justin to know his daughter would carry John’s name if the adoption went through.
“It’ll be like I’ve abandoned her,” insisted Justin, much to John’s annoyance when Justin insisted they all meet up. Justin informed Daphne that he would register his objection officially if he had to. He was Soleil’s father and she had to feel secure in knowing how much he loved her.
It took a lot of persuasion over several days, but eventually, Daphne managed to get John to agree not to proceed any further. Soleil remaining as Soleil Chanders was one thing, but it did actually make Justin think: How would Soleil react if, in fact, she took his name and became Soleil Taylor instead?
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Justin had found the whole situation between himself and Daphne exhausting. He hated being at odds with his friend, especially over their daughter. But a part of him still harbored regrets that he’d been denied access to Soleil for so many years and though he tried, he would never be able to forgive Daphne entirely for that.
Soleil and Justin continued to grow ever closer; Daphne would be blind not to see it. Soleil and her father appeared to have a rapport that Soleil and John had, so far, been unable to achieve. And it wasn’t because Justin was more indulgent. He seemed to find the right balance between discipline and indulgencies. He set boundaries, Soleil understood them and loved and respected him for it. She knew exactly where she stood with him and that was more than how she felt with her mother’s husband.
Soleil, never having learned of John’s aborted intentions to adopt her, had, in actual fact, never felt entirely accepted by him. But no mere name change would ever alter that.
Being pretty astute, she’d soon picked up on the atmosphere that existed between John and Justin and had suspected a certain amount of rivalry between them, though she couldn’t quite work that out, with her dad being gay. But she knew the two men weren’t comfortable in each other’s company, that much had always been pretty obvious.
Justin, however, reached the decision that he wouldn’t yet broach the subject of name changing. It wouldn’t be fair to put Soleil through that at her age. But knowing how upset Justin had been at the mere mention of it played on Daphne’s conscience and from that point on, whenever Justin had asked for access to Soleil, it was never denied.
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To Gus’ delight, he’d been an automatic choice for the soccer team when the season recommenced; it would seem he took after Brian enormously when it came to soccer skills and although the game doesn’t have the same following in the U.S. as it does abroad, professional players could still make a good living and scouts were always on the prowl for the US and European teams, even for youngsters of Gus‘ tender years.
Gus was growing taller and filling out every day. And he was a looker, especially popular with every girl in his class and, in fact, in general, and always in demand, though for the moment at least, he still remained entirely dedicated to his sport.
Brian had once considered he’d never be able to fulfill the role of father; his beliefs founded on the rocky and often violent relationship he’d had with Jack Kinney. But watching his son undertake any task, whether it be playing soccer, doing his homework, playing with some video game or interacting with Justin or Soleil, filled him with the utmost love and pride, and Brian now wondered why he’d ever had those doubts. After all, Lindsay must have seen something in him other than those perfect genes, when she’d asked him to father her and Mel’s child. If only he’d trusted himself earlier. Justin had, back in those early days before he’d let that particular man get away from him and it would seem that others had more faith in him than he had in himself. But not now. Now, Brian could stand tall in every role he undertook; that of father and partner. Who would have thought it back then? Even his role as a son had taken on a more positive note since his relationship with Joan continued to improve; mother and son growing more comfortable in each other’s presence all the time, leaving only one part of the puzzle missing. A part which, at this point in Brian’s life would seem never to be fulfilled. But how life can change in the blink of an eye.
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Unbelievably, Spring break had rolled around again. Easter was reasonably early this year, but already, the weather had shown signs of improvement every day. They’d talked about getting away this year; Florida maybe, or even Mexico, now that Justin’s own business was attracting regular work and he was making substantial contributions towards the running of the house and their lifestyle.
Brian’s business was growing all the time and Ted was constantly telling him he needed to do something with the money and recommended opening up another branch. He’d suggested further west maybe this time, but at least do something with the money that meant they weren’t giving the IRS any more than they had to.
“Dallas … Huston?” suggested Justin and Brian gave him a long look. They’d not mentioned Patrick again, though Justin would be willing to bet a month’s income that Brian hadn’t forgotten the man entirely.
“Wrong color state,” answered Brian.
“All the more reason to get in there and make a go of it,” came back Justin.
“Wasn’t it you who said there’s nothing that ticks straight people off more than a successful fag?” he continued and Brian frowned.
“Yeah … I believe I do recall something like that,” admitted the older man.
“But is that the only reason … for opening up an office in Texas I mean?” asked Brian.
“I don’t know what you mean,” frowned Justin, mentally crossing his fingers behind his back. “But it’s worth looking into … isn’t it?” and he saw Brian frown back at him.
“I’ll run it passed Ted in the morning,” agreed Brian.
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The longer he thought about it, the more his curiosity was roused, having heard his name and the city of his birth both mentioned during the course of a phone call totally out of the blue and from a complete stranger.
Like his generation, it had taken some persuasion for Patrick to begin using the internet himself, though of course his company had been using computers for years and now he wouldn‘t be without them. Using the various search engines available, had eventually led Patrick to discover Brian Kinney, CEO of Kinnetik, a well established and ever growing advertising company with offices in both Pittsburgh and New York. It would also appear that the company was held in high regard within the advertising world for its ballsy approach to the campaigns it undertook.
From the information available, it was evident that Brian Kinney, a Pittsburgh native, was very successful and extremely talented in his chosen field, having won various awards dating back almost 15 years, including Ad Person of the Year, when he first worked for Ryder Advertising before eventually venturing out on his own.
Indeed, Brian Kinney was one of the most successful businessmen in Pittsburgh and was also involved with several charities. There was even a picture of him in a local Pittsburgh rag, albeit taken a couple of years ago, presenting a check at the Gay and Lesbian Center.
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Determined to keep the weekends free for their kids had more recently meant working a little later in the evening during the week for both Brian and Justin. Justin was considering taking on extra help at least part time and Ted was exploring the viability of starting up another branch of Kennetik, possibly in Texas this time, much to the man’s surprise but also, delight.
Consequently, this Friday evening around 8:00pm., Justin had only just completed his work in time for the deadline. In the morning, he was picking Soleil up and she’d be spending the weekend. She would normally come over on Friday after school, but tonight, she had a birthday party to attend and would sleepover. Gus had done his homework and had eaten a meal Rosa had left for him, realizing how busy Justin was, and the youngster had gone up to his room to watch tv.
Glad to be able to leave the studio for the weekend, tired and a little stiff from the time spent bent over the computer, Justin made his way downstairs to the kitchen, having first looked in on Gus. Brian had called to say he was just leaving, so at least they could eat together and, with the pasta cooking and a bottle of red wine opened to breathe, Brian arrived; thankful for the end of a busy working week and glad to get home to his family.
Having taken off his jacket and tie, Brian made his way into the kitchen and approached Justin quietly from behind. The younger man was draining the pasta over the sink when he felt the arms snake around his waist and he gasped and closed his eyes as hot breath hit the back of his neck. Justin’s gasp turned into a low moan as that breath was replaced by hot, moist lips.
“Are you hungry?” whispered Brian into the smaller man’s ear and Justin felt the man harden against the back of his thigh. “That depends what’s on offer,” came the husky reply and leaving the pasta draining into the saucepan in the sink, Justin turned around in Brian’s arms.
But Brian was hungry; hungry for Justin’s mouth and their lips locked together in a fierce kiss: bodies melting into one another’s, breath hot and breathing heavily, lips parting to allow tongues to explore; sucking and licking, both men growing ever harder; their mutual attraction undiminished and, in fact, leaving them wanting each other more and more each day. Eventually, Brian groaned; they had a teenage boy upstairs and although Brian and Justin weren’t afraid to show affection in front of him, anything further could prove to be rather embarrassing.
“I guess we should wait until Gus is in bed,” breathed Brian, disappointed but resigned and he heard Justin sigh in agreement and, it was at that point, that they were further interrupted by the doorbell.
Brian groaned. “I think it’s a conspiracy,” declared the older man.
“I’ll get rid of them,” stated Justin and managing to disentangle himself from Brian’s grasp, he begrudgingly headed for the front door.
Opening the door, but before Justin had a chance to speak, Brian, wondering who could be calling at this time and having looked at his watch, had followed on closely behind.
“Good evening … I’m looking for Brian Kinney … I’m …”
“Who is it?” asked Brian, placing his hand on Justin’s shoulder before stepping into the doorway and into view.
Justin had remained silent; stunned in fact at the discovery of their visitor, whose opening words had been interrupted by Brian’s appearance. An appearance so like his own that even the photograph he’d seen earlier hadn’t come close enough. Surely there could be no mistake after all.
Brian blinked, unable to find his voice. Indeed, the other man struggled himself before finally declaring:
“I’m Patrick Kinney …”
To be continued.
With many thanks to Lois and Judy