Justin awoke late after his night out dancing with Rick.  His head ached dully from lack of restful sleep. He had dreamed of Brian over and over, about Brian shoving him away, and about Brian being in trouble.

He wasn't sure if he was worried about what had happened to Brian or pissed that their relationship hadn't been strong enough to weather hard times.  It really didn't matter in the long run. He'd never see Brian again. He just wished that he could get the man out of his thoughts and then his life could get back to normal.

He made some breakfast consisting of toast and a bowl of cereal.  He ate slowly still thinking about his dreams. He remembered the brief glimpse of the man at the Quoin.  He had borne such a strong resemblance to Brian, but it couldn't be. Brian wouldn't be in Chicago, he'd be in New York.  He wouldn't be working at the Quoin; he'd be making mega bucks in advertising. He wouldn't just turn up in Justin's life; he'd have to make a grand entrance … if he ever came back.

Justin dumped his dirty dishes in the dishwasher and wiped the table.  He saw his pile of mail from yesterday sitting on the end of the counter.  There had been something that he was going to do with it. He flipped through the few envelopes he had left there and saw his phone bill.  He was going to pay it online. He carried it over to the computer and logged on.

A series of passwords and screens got him into his bank account.  He thought he should have about a thousand dollars in it, enough to pay his rent and bills till he got the first installment from Mr. Gillespie.  That was to be paid to him when he started the actual mural in a day or two. He was going to do okay off of this commission and he had a couple of other people to see who might be interested in hiring him down the road.  Mr. Gillespie had recommended him to some colleagues.

Justin smiled as he thought about his financial independence.  It had been hard, but he could truthfully say that he had made a successful business for himself and had to rely on no one for help.  Soon he would be able to pay off Brian for the tuition he had forked out. That is, he could pay him back if he could find out where he was.

Justin typed in the balance of his phone bill and clicked "pay".  The transaction went through and his new balance appeared. The box read $8 457.62.  Justin blinked and looked again. The same number still appeared there. His thoughts raced to all the possibilities of why this huge sum would be in his account.  The first thing he thought of was Emmett and his millions. Emmett had thought it was a mistake. Surely this must be a mistake too. Emmett had had such a terrible experience with his inheritance after George died.  Justin didn't know anybody who had died or would have left him money for any other reason.

Brian!  His brain screamed at him.  Had Brian died and left him this money?  It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. Justin's heart pounded in his chest.  There had to be another explanation. Justin scrolled back and saw that a deposit for $7550.00 had recently been made to his account.  He had no idea where that would have come from and there was no other information, just the transaction.

He had to find out what was going on.  He decided he could try calling the bank, but he would likely find out more if he went down there and talked to a real person.  He quickly dressed and made his way to the branch which was several blocks away.

After explaining his problem to a teller who was less than sympathetic and seemed to know nothing about his account, Justin asked to speak to the manager.  He had to wait almost an hour to get in to see the woman who was busy with someone who had an appointment. Justin decided he would stay and wait her out. He wanted some answers.

Just after eleven-thirty he was ushered into the manager's office.  She was doing something on the computer, but asked him to take a seat.  He sat across the desk from her and waited. Finally she turned to him and extended her hand.

"I'm Emily Parker," she said.

"Justin Taylor," he replied.

"You have a problem with your account I'm told," she said.

"I have way more money in it than there should be."

"That's a good problem."

"Yeah, if it's really mine," Justin said with a grimace.  "I want to know where it came from and why all of a sudden."

"I was looking up your account when you came in.  There is a deposit for $7550 that seems to be the bulk of your balance."

"That's the one.  I didn't deposit that amount.  Can you tell me where it came from?"

"Let's see.  She hit some keys on the computer and studied the screen."

"It was a direct deposit from something called Applegay Management."

That name sounded vaguely familiar to Justin, but he couldn't place it.  "I still don't know why I would be getting that sum from anyone."

"Let's see if I can find out anything else," she said typing into her computer.  After a minute she looked at him and said, "You've had several deposits from this company over the last two years.  They come quarterly and were all for slightly less than two hundred dollars until this one."

"Now I know what it is.  It's an investment that I got as payment from a job I did in Pittsburgh.  But why would the amount have gone skyrocketing like that?" Justin asked.

"That I can't answer, Mr. Taylor.  You would need to speak to someone at Applegay."

"But how do I find them?  I don't even know who or what they are.  I was just happy to have the extra money every once in awhile."

"I can find an address and probably a phone number for you.  If they make a direct deposit, they have to be on file."

"I'd really appreciate that," Justin said relieved that he seemed to be getting closer to some kind of explanation for his windfall.

Ms. Parker typed some more and waited.  Justin heard her printer start up, and she handed him the printout about this company.  He scanned the paper. There was an address in Chicago and the name of the company, and some numbers that meant nothing to him.

"What does this company do?" Justin asked.

"I don't know.  I've never heard of it until now.  It must be rather small, but very successful judging by the size of your dividend this quarter."

"Is that what you think that deposit was?"

She nodded.  "It's the right time of the year based on previous deposits."

"Well, thanks for your time and help."

"No problem.  That's what I'm here for."

"I guess I need to contact these people and find out what's going on."

"Good luck.  If you have any other investments like that, you're very lucky."

Justin smiled sheepishly.  He honestly had no idea what he had in that stock portfolio he had received from Gino.  There were a couple of other stocks as well as the Applegay one. He had filled out forms to transfer them and have any proceeds deposited to his account.  Those proceeds had been minimal or non-existent. Applegay had been by far the best. However, he had paid little attention to any of them, just grateful for every little bit of money that they provided.

He left the bank with his sheet of paper determined to find out what this Applegay was all about, and why he was receiving so much money all of a sudden.  At least nobody had died and left it to him. At least Brian hadn't died. At least it wasn't an inheritance like Emmett's that could evaporate before his eyes.  At least he hoped not.

                                                               -----

Justin went back to his apartment, suddenly ravenous.  The money was his. He was very pleased about that. One of Gino's stocks had really paid off.  He smiled as he made himself a sandwich. He was thinking of all the things he could do with seven thousand dollars.  He would be able to visit his mother more often and buy some art supplies that he had really wanted.

He was still a bit troubled by his sudden good fortune coming from out of nowhere.  He wanted to know what Applegay Management did. There was a phone number on the sheet that Ms. Parker had given him.  He decided to try it even if it was Saturday. Maybe there would be a recording that would give him some clue. He dialed the number and waited.  A recorded voice told him that this was Applegay Management and that their offices were currently closed. It then gave him standard times to get in touch with the company.

That was what he had expected.  He sighed and set the phone down.  It bugged him not knowing what this company was.  He did have an address. He decided that if he went to their offices he could maybe find out what they did, even if he couldn't talk to anybody today.  He had nothing better to do until Monday when he needed to go to work on his mural. He decided he would call a taxi since he didn't have any idea where this address was.  Besides he had $7500 to spend that he had never expected to have.

The taxi driver knew the area where the address was.  "That's in Hyde Park," he told Justin.

"I was just down there with a friend of mine last night," Justin replied remembering that that was what Rick had called the area where he worked.  Maybe that was why he was getting this money. They could have sold their property or something. Maybe it was a one time thing.

"It's the in place right now.  Lots of development."

"Yeah, I know."  Justin thought about Rick.  He would be working right now.  Maybe he'd go to the bistro if it wasn't too far from where the driver let him off.  He wanted to talk to somebody about this. He wished Rick wasn't working and he would have got the man to come with him to check this place out.

"Here we are," the driver said suddenly.  

Justin looked out at an old mansion.  He had expected an office building of some sort.  He quickly paid the cabbie and stepped out. The taxi took off as Justin looked around.  It seemed very familiar. He looked across the road and realized that Le Bistro, Rick's restaurant, was over there.  Why had the cabbie brought him here? He turned and realized that from the position of Le Bistro this had to be the Quoin.  It looked somewhat different in the daylight, but he was sure this was what Rick had called the Quoin. The cabbie must have made a mistake.  He took out the sheet Ms. Parker had given him and rechecked the address. This was it. The only thing on the façade of the building was the street number and it matched the one on his paper.

Now he was really confused.  He didn't think he wanted to go into the Quoin by himself, but he still wanted some answers.  He wished Rick could come with him, but he would be in the middle of the lunch rush on a Saturday.  He couldn't just stand there like some scared little faggot. He needed to go inside and see if he could get some more information about Applegay.  Maybe there was some kind of mistake and they could direct him to the correct place.

Taking a deep breath he pushed open the door.  There was a rather austere but elegant foyer in front of him.  He looked around and saw a desk off to one side. Behind it sat a rather muscular looking young man in a beautiful blue sweater.  He looked casual but elegant. He smiled at Justin as he approached the desk. Obviously the man knew how to make people feel at home, but he also looked like someone you wouldn't want to mess with.

"May I help you?" he said to Justin.

"I hope you can," Justin replied.

"Are you looking for a job?" he asked when Justin hesitated.

"Oh my God, no!"

"Sorry, but I thought you might be.  I could see our clients drooling all over you."

Justin felt himself blushing.  "I … I …"

"Do you want to hire one of our boys?" the man asked trying to help Justin through his apparent unease.

"Shit, no!" Justin gasped.  "Sorry. I'm not sure I'm in the right place."

"Well, what are you looking for?" the man asked, his patience seeming to run a little thin.

"I was given this address as being the one for Applegay Management."

"Oh," the man said seeming not to be too surprised by Justin's statement.

"Is this the right place for it?" Justin asked hoping he would be directed somewhere else.

"They have an…um…office here," the man said slowly.

"Could I speak to someone from Applegay?"

"I don't think that's possible."

"I know it's Saturday, but I really need to talk to someone from the company."

"As I said, I don't think that's possible."

"Could you tell me what they do?"

The man looked at him like he was from outer space.  "Why they run this place. What do you think they would do?"

"This place?  Shit!"

"Excuse me," the man said looking like he was about ready to throw Justin out.

"Could I make an appointment to see someone from Applegay?" Justin asked hurriedly.

"I don't think I can do that."

"Why not?"

"It's not my job to make appointments for Applegay."

"Can you tell me how to get in touch with them?"

"This is their phone number."  He handed Justin a card. Justin looked at it and realized it was the number he had called this morning.

"Could I speak to the manager of the Quoin?" Justin asked hoping that this person might be able to explain what was going on.

"I don't think he's available at the moment."

"I could wait."

"He may not be available for a long time."

"I'll wait."

"Just a minute."  The man picked up his phone and hit a few numbers.  "I have someone out here who would like to speak to the manager."  Suddenly he held the phone away from his ear. Justin could hear words like "Fucking Asshole" and "Fucking not to be interrupted."  Finally the tirade ended and the man set the phone back in its cradle. "I told you that I didn't think he would be available."

"I see what you mean, but I really need to speak to him," Justin pleaded.

"May I ask what's so important?"

"I can't really explain it.  I just need to see him. Can I please wait?"

The man behind the desk softened a little at Justin's plea.  "I can't guarantee that he'll see you when he's done. He can be … difficult."

"Oh," Justin said wondering if maybe he should just cut his losses and leave.  If he did that, he'd be no farther ahead for all his efforts. "I'll wait."

"Suit yourself," the man conceded, "but you may be sorry."

"Why?"

"Don't tell anybody, but he's in there right now reaming out somebody.  You heard what he was like on the phone. He hates to be interrupted or have things go wrong in his orderly arrangement of life."

Justin grimaced.  "Sounds like a real asshole."

"That's as good a description as any," the man said with a chuckle.

"Can I sit here?" Justin asked pointing to a chair near the desk.

"Sure," the man said.  "Pull it over closer. I could use a little company.  This is a slack time of day. It'll pick up in a couple of hours.  Want a coffee?"

"That would be great," Justin said happy to be on better terms with this man.  Maybe he could get some information about Applegay and this asshole manager before he came face to face with the man.

Justin took the coffee and had a sip.  It was excellent. "This is great coffee," Justin said.  "Better than Starbucks."

"Nothing but the best for the Quoin."

"How long have you worked here?" Justin asked.

"Almost two years.  It used to be run by somebody else, but one day about a year ago this new guy shows up.  Seems he had bought up a lot of stock and was now the owner. He got rid of the other manager and took over running the place himself.  He has really made a huge difference. We have double the number of boys working here, and we're packed most of the time."

"Wow, he must really know what he's doing."

"He does.  Not everybody likes him, but he's extremely fair.  If you do your job effectively you make an excellent wage, me included."

"And if you don't do your job effectively?" Justin had to ask.

"You're gone.  I think that's what's happening to Rico right now."

"Rico?"

"Yeah, he's one of the boys.  He's in there right now being reamed out.  Most likely he'll get his walking papers."

"What did he do?"

"I probably shouldn't tell you this," he said sliding closer to Justin.

Justin could tell he liked to have gossip to share, a little like Emmett.  "It won't go any further," Justin promised.

"Last night there was an incident."

"Incident?"

"Yeah, this guy came in.  He's been here a few times before.  He's really into kink, some sick stuff that we just simply won't do.  The desk has been warned not to let him in if he's drunk because he tends to get nasty.  He had a minor incident a while ago and had been told that he would be barred if he caused any more problems."

Justin wondered if it was the asshole Rick had told him about, the one that they had seen being stuffed into a taxi last night.  "So what happened?"

"I wasn't on the desk last night, but apparently he came in and wanted to have a boy who would allow some fisting.  We only have a couple of boys who are into that and neither was available. He was told so, but he said he wanted a boy anyway.  Rico was the only one left, so he was sent up to Rico's room."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Justin observed.

"Rico did what he wasn't supposed to do.  This guy had already had a few, but he wasn't drunk yet.  He got Rico to order a bottle of scotch and he polished it off in short order.  The boys are supposed to monitor the alcohol intake and not let the guests get too sloshed.  After he drank the liquor he got very rough with Rico, tried to fist him. That's when Rico should have called for security.  There's a button beside the bed for exactly that purpose."

"Are you security?" Justin asked.  "I mean, you look like you could handle yourself."

"Thanks," the guy said with a smile.  "There's one bouncer on duty at all times, but I'm backup if it's needed.  "Anyway, Rico tried to fight him off and the guy slammed him into the wall and took off naked down the hall.  Rico should have called for help then and there. Instead he went after him. The guy tried several doors until he found one that had been left unlocked.  He went slamming into that room and tried to fist the customer who … was in the middle of something with Todd, the boy whose room it was."

"Holy shit!  What happened?"

"Rico found him and tried to pull him away.  He got knocked to the floor again. By that time Todd had rung for security and they arrived.  They dragged the guy back to Rico's room and got him dressed. He was thrown into a taxi and can never come back here."

"That's good.  He shouldn't be allowed back in."

"That's true, but I feel sorry for Rico.  He was trying to keep things under control, but he broke all the rules.  That's probably why he'll be out on his ear."

"Too bad."

Just then they heard a door down the hall open and close.  A nice looking young man came around the corner a second later.  He looked shaken and shrugged at the guy at the desk. Then he proceeded up the stairs.  The buzzer on the phone went off. The man at the desk picked it up."

"Yes," he said.  "All right. Yes, sir.  Um … the man that wanted to speak with you is still here.  I'll tell him. Okay."

"Was that Rico?" Justin asked wanting to know what happened.

"Yeah, he's picking up his belongings.  He's been fired. I'm supposed to make sure he's out of here in five minutes."

"That's kind of harsh, isn't it?" Justin asked.

"What did I tell you?  Asshole is his middle name.  He'll be out in a minute if you're sure you want to face him.  He'll probably be in a foul mood."

"I …" Justin began, having second thoughts about this being the right time to confront the manager.

"Where is he?" a familiar voice said from behind him.

"I'm right here," Justin said standing up and turning to face Brian Kinney.