Chapter 41 - Coming Together.

Kevan had just discovered that those groups of bright, colorful, squiggly lines he saw in the hard square things that The Daddy would show him and that lived on the walls in his favorite room and even on the papers that The Papa would play with were called ‘Pictures’.

“Blah, blah, blah, Kevan. Look, blah blah blah Pictures! Blah blah, Picture of Daddy . . ..”

The Papa had been babbling on and on about the squiggles he was making on the papers and then every so often showing Kevan what the squiggles were doing, when all of a sudden something in his baby brain clicked and he SAW the Picture. It was The Daddy! Wasn’t that the most amazing thing? The squiggles had squirmed around until they made a Daddy Squiggle. It looked just like The Daddy too, only not the right color and without all the nice smelling and nice tasting parts. But Kevan could tell it was a Squiggly Daddy.

Okay, this was HUGE!

You mean that all this time all those ‘Picture’ things were important? But how could it be that the squiggles were The Daddy? Kevan looked up and could see where The Daddy was sitting on the big comfy couch thing across the way. But if The Daddy was there, how could he also be here on the paper made up of squiggles that seemed to just appear out of nowhere when The Papa waved that stick thing around.

Kevan tried to reach out and grab the paper full of squiggles. He needed to understand this Squiggly Daddy. Maybe if he tasted the Squiggly Daddy it would finally make sense?

The Papa apparently didn’t like that idea though. He told Kevan the ‘NO’ mouth sound and looked at him with an unhappy face when Kevan tried to take the paper away. When Kevan persisted, The Papa took the Squiggly Daddy away to the big table.

Oh, doo doo!

How was a baby supposed to figure out intriguing things like Squiggly Daddies when his people things were being so difficult!

“So, I think PittSteel is in the bag,” Cynthia advised, going down the checklist on the elegant black and silver fleur de lis metallic clipboard in her hand. “Seriously, though. I have never seen anyone with a more advanced case of Granny Lust than Elsie MacGregor has got. Fortunately for you, none of her own kids have even come close to giving her a grandkid yet, so she’s available and willing to adopt you, Justin and Kevan instead.” Cynthia giggled as Brian rolled his eyes. “I went ahead and set up a dinner at your house with Mr. & Mrs. PittSteel for tomorrow night. Don’t worry, I’ve already called the cleaning service and your friend Emmett was so thrilled when I asked if he was willing to cater the dinner that I thought he was going to wet himself. You and Justin only have to show up with our darling little Kevan and charm them like usual. In fact, I’m pretty sure if you should just happen to let slip a word or two about your big NEWS - making sure that Elsie knows you haven’t told anyone else yet, not even your family - she’d order her husband to sign over the entire company to you and forget about any mere advertising contract.”

“Great job, Cynthia,” Brian praised his assistant, cum Vice President, amazed as always at how easy she made this stuff seem. “That makes three of my current accounts that we can count on for the new agency.”

“By the way, have you guys come up with a name for this company yet? I’m not looking forward to ordering my new business cards if they’ll still read, Vice President, [Insert Name of Company Here].”

“Actually, yes . . .” Brian proudly pulled a piece of paper out of the folder in his own hands and handed it over. “Justin came up with this last night.”

“Kinnetik . . .” Cynthia read the name and admired the bold graphics on the mocked up sheet of letterhead. “That’s . . . that’s brilliant, Brian. I love it! It’s modern and simple and totally you. Shit! Justin did this?”

“Yep. The lad is a fucking genius. And he’s all mine . . .” Brian gloated with the broadest smile Cynthia had ever seen on his face. “I’m just glad I nabbed him before some other agency hired him and his talents. If this is what he can do with barely a year of school under his belt, I can’t wait to see what he comes up with by the time he finishes his degree.”

“We’re going to be so rich!” Cynthia happily joined in the gloating, elated by the fact that she was getting in on the ground floor when it seemed like the new agency was going to be just as big of a success as they’d imagined.

“Let’s hope so. I’m going to have a whole litter of dependents clamouring for me to feed them in the not too distant future so I’ll either need to be rich or else figure out how to apply for welfare and food stamps,” Brian joked, pretending to shudder at the very idea of becoming a ‘Welfare Mom’. “Anyway . . . we can come back to the current clients later. I’m not really that concerned with them. I think they’ll pretty much all jump ship once I’m gone and they come to understand that the best they’ll get from Vance is Brad and Bob the Wonder Idiots. We’ll be able to pick and choose which ones we want and which ones we don’t want to bother with. What will really make or break us, though, are the new clients that we’re able to rope in using my ‘Special Attributes’.”

“I agree. Which is why I think you should focus your efforts here,” Cynthia opened another manilla file full of research and pushed it across the desk for Brian to see. “Graco Baby Products. They’re the leading US manufacturer of high ticket baby furniture and other large baby necessities like car seats, strollers, high chairs, cribs . . . that type of thing. And they’re also well known for their products geared towards twins. They sell more double strollers than anyone else in the country. They’d be perfect for your - shall we say, special touch? Not to mention that they’re a subsidiary of Rubbermaid, so if you could get an in there, we’d all be able to retire before we’re forty.”

“Excellent work, Madam Vice President,” Brian said as he flipped through the stack of printouts and other research materials. “I concur. Graco was on the top of my list too. It would be the perfect addition to our portfolio. Make it happen, Cynthia. Preferably sometime in the next two weeks. In the meantime, I’ll take this file home to our resident boy genius and get him started on some art work.” Brian went through his own mental checklist and nodded with satisfaction. “Yeah. Things are starting to come together. I’ve got the meeting with Armani on Monday and I don’t see any problem there. They still love me - and as long as I kiss the ass of that one Creative Director that’s a little bit pissed off at me for leaving Cancun early, I should be able to bring them around without too much trouble.” Brian unconsciously ran his hand down his still flat abdomen as he thought of all the possibilities. “Justin’s almost finished with the new boards for Armani. As soon as he’s done there, he can work on something using the ideas we brainstormed for the Novena Skincare account. Did you firm up a date for that pitch?”

“I just heard back from their head of marketing this morning,” Cynthia bragged. “You’ve got an appointment with him a week from today. I know it’s a short time frame, what with Armani on Monday. Do you think it’s doable? The boards are going to have to be good. This guy is going to be a bit of a tough sell. He wants to screen your proposal before he’ll take it to his bosses. But at least I’ve got your foot in the door. It’s up to you and Justin now.”

“Yeah, we can do it. It’ll be tight . . . but, then again, I’ve always preferred things to be tight!” Brian joked, barely masking his underlying nervousness - not that he had to for his long-time friend and assistant since she saw right through his act.

“As long as Justin doesn’t mind it tight either, you’ll be fine then,” Cynthia played along.

“Ahem. I don’t think I need to comment on that,” Brian actually blushed a little, causing Cynthia to grin wickedly. “Which leaves us time for one more pitch the following week and then we’ll be right on target for me giving Vance notice on or before my thirty-first birthday! Assuming, of course, that we win all the accounts. So, who do you suggest we go after as our last candidate?” Brian asked, looking at the tentative list of possibilities they’d compiled a few days before.

“Forget all those,” Cynthia ordered and handed yet another file over. “This is the big one, Brian. If you can land this client, then you won’t have to worry about all those other little fish.” Cynthia flipped open the file and pointed to the print out on the top of the sheaf of papers. “Fisher-Price. One of, if not THE, biggest children’s products manufacturer in the world. Annual sales last year of over $10 billion - with a capital ‘B’. They’re hungry though - their market percentage has been dropping for the past five years. They need new advertising so bad it’s not even funny. In fact, they are so ripe for the picking that my panties get wet just thinking about it. Annnnnnndddddd, I just happen to have gone to college with the sister of the Assistant to the EVP of Marketing. Which means,” Cynthia put on a Brian-esque smirk of her own, “I was able to get you an appointment to meet with her on the 29th.”

Brian grabbed the file up and hastily flipped through page after page of data, his smile growing exponentially with every page. Finally, he looked up at an exultant Cynthia and shook his head. “If you weren’t a woman, Cynthia, I’d kiss you right now. Hell, I’d fucking marry you. This is perfect . . .”

“I know,” Cynthia stated succinctly as she started to gather together all her things. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need me to arrange for any of the meetings. But for now I’m going to go pretend to do some work for the boss who’s actually still paying my salary. Did I mention how much I’m looking forward to telling Vance that I quit? I might actually slap his face when I give my notice and if he doesn’t look up from my breasts, I’ll knee him too.”

“I love you, Cynthia, but you really scare me sometimes, you know,” Brian said as the woman laughed and exited the office, leaving Brian to get back to the thing he did best - coming up with the words that could sell anything to anybody.

Brian was feeling really pressed for time when he finally made it out of the gym on Saturday afternoon. It had already been a busy day and it was barely half over. He pulled his phone out, quickly checked the time and decided that he could still make it to the art supply store for Justin before heading home.

As he started towards his car, Brian smiled. As busy as it was, the day had so far been very productive. Everything seemed to be falling into place nicely.

Brian had started the morning off by meeting with a prospective agent. This was something Cynthia was insisting on, refusing to continue to field and juggle the flood of publicity dates, interview and endorsement requests, public appearances and other demands that they knew would be coming once Brian's condition was announced. Accordingly, she'd done her homework and found a local agent who she promised would be perfect for Brian.

Brian had arrived at the agent’s office at ten am and been greeted by a petite black woman with an engaging grin and a no-nonsense attitude. She'd ushered him inside and then promptly begun ordering Brian around for the next hour and a half in an authoritative voice that would have made any Drill Sergeant proud. ‘Sarge’, as Brian had mentally dubbed the woman, didn't even ask if he wanted her services - she took that as given - and instead spent her time telling him exactly what he would and would not do if she took him on as a client.

Brian had never met a more forceful woman in his entire life - she put even Mel to shame in that regard - but for some reason she didn't grate on his nerves like you'd expect. The fact that she was straight and clearly appreciative of Brian's good looks didn't bother him in the least - even when she first met him and, for a moment, looked up at his tall, lean body like she was planning to climb right up him. This little lady's totally domineering personality surprised and amused Brian. He’d swear Sarge was as much a ‘top’ as he was himself and didn't doubt for a second that she owned a strap-on and employed it regularly to the delight of her boyfriend. Sarge was definitely the kind of woman who'd control whatever situation she found herself in - much like Brian himself.

Once they started talking business, Brian found Sarge to be delightfully brash and bold. She didn't mince words but still seemed like she truly cared about her clients. She was also full of energy and had already planned out Brian's life for the next several years before they had finished. He loved her from the start and was happy to sign on the dotted line without a second thought.

With that taken care of, Brian felt he could relax a little bit. Sarge could now handle the expected media circus and that would leave Brian free to concentrate on building Kinnetik. With a much lighter heart, Brian had grabbed a bit of lunch then hurried off to meet Lev at the gym - conscious of the fact that he'd need to stay in shape as much as possible, despite a new pregnancy, in order to sell himself and his agency to the likes of Armani, Novena and whatever other new clients he hoped to rope in.

After a good two hour, low-impact, high-cardio workout, Brian now had just enough time to stop at the art supply store before heading home to get ready for dinner with Mr. and Mrs. PittSteel.

Sadly, Brian hadn’t planned on running into Lindsey and Gus between the gym and his car.

“Brian! Wow, what a coincidence running into to you today,” Lindsey simpered as she hugged him and left a kiss on his cheek with lips that lingered just a shade too long.

“Lindz . . . Yeah, it's quite the coincidence, especially since you know I come to the gym every Saturday afternoon about this time. So, what else brings you and Sonny Boy out today, or do you just enjoy lurking around the gym?”

“Brian!” Lindsey playfully slapped his arm as if she thought he was joking, although she didn't answer his question or deny the implication. “I'm really glad we did run into each other. It's been a long time since we had a chance to catch up and Gus has been asking about his Daddy.”

“No time to kibbutz today, Lindz,” Brian explained while trying to sidestep around Gus’ bulky stroller. “I've got to get home - we're having a client and his wife over for dinner tonight. I'm already running late and I still have to stop at the art supply store for Justin on my way.”

“What?” That little piece of news seemed to practically floor Lindsey. “You're throwing a dinner party? At your house? You?”

“Yessssss,” Brian responded with confusion. “I entertain clients all the time, Lindz. What's the big deal?”

“Not at your place, you don't.” Lindsey pointed out.

“Well, I never had a home that I COULD entertain in before,” Brian answered. “The loft wasn't really the kind of place I would want to bring most of my clients. Can’t imagine the wives sitting quietly in my bachelor’s fuck pad while I took their husbands up and showed them the bedroom. Can you?”

Lindsey didn't appear to be amused by Brian's attempt to make light of the situation. At first she looked confused. Soon, though, little green glints of jealousy began to show in the otherwise big brown eyes. This was followed directly by a slow simmering anger that most people would never even pick up on under her well-bred congeniality, but Brian had known Lindsey for a long, long time and he noted the way the corners of her lips tightened almost imperceptibly along with the slight flaring of her nostrils. Yep, he'd definitely hit a nerve there.

“I just can't see the Brian Kinney I know turning into Ward Cleaver and inviting the Rutherfords over for dinner,” Lindsey responded, trying to make it sound like she was just teasing. “What, is Justin home minding the kids and cleaning the kitchen dressed in his best pearls? Hahaha!”

“I highly doubt it, although he does have that pearl-studded nipple ring . . .” Brian laughed at the shocked look that comment brought to his old friend’s face, which was followed by obvious disapproval. “But, whatever. I've got to go,” Brian tried to disengage without starting an argument that he didn't have time for.

“I'm sorry, Brian. I was only kidding. You don't have to run off that quickly, do you?” Lindsey grabbed onto his arm before Brian could get two steps away. “I was just on the way to take your son for his very first haircut at the barbershop and we'd love for you to come with us. I'm sure Gus would enjoy having you there. And taking your son for his first haircut is like a rite of passage or something. You don't want to miss out, do you?” When it looked like Brian was still going to turn her down, Lindsey added, “it shouldn't take that long. Fifteen minutes, tops?”

Brian gazed down at a smiling Gus and knew he didn't want to say no. He supposed he could put off the trip to the art store until the next day if needed. So he quickly tossed his gym bag into the Audi and then took over stroller duty as they walked together down the busy Saturday afternoon sidewalk.

Before they'd gone twenty feet, Lindsey had looped her arm through Brian's in a comfortable coupley way. She kept up a constant stream of chatter about everything Gus had been doing lately along with random tidbits of nothing. She'd comment on items she saw in the windows of the shops they passed, occasionally slowing to look closer or even pulling Brian into the store ‘really quick’ so she could price an item. Brian was already getting fed up even before they ran into a friend of Lindsey's and the monopolizing woman proceeded to introduce him as Gus’ father while she fawned all over him and bragged to the friend about Brian’s accomplishments.

Ten minutes into this quaint little tete-a-tete, Brian had had more than enough. As soon as he perceived the first hint of a break in the conversation between Lindz and the friend, Brian announced brusquely that he had to go and swiftly detached the blonde’s fingers from his biceps without bothering to be gentle about it. He was several steps away before Lindsey had said her goodbyes to the other woman and was trotting after him.

“Brian. Brian, wait! What's wrong? Why are you leaving?” Lindsey clamoured, almost upending the stroller in her haste to catch up with the retreating man. “Stop already, Brian. Aren’t you coming to the barber with us?”

“No. I’m through here, Lindsey,” Brian confirmed, continuing to walk without slowing his pace at all, thereby forcing Lindsey to have to jog to keep up with him. “I don’t want to be part of whatever little fantasy world you’re living in today. I told you that I have plans tonight and I don’t have time to waste on window shopping or useless chatter while you dick around all afternoon. And I certainly don’t have time to play act in the little heteronormative show you were putting on back there for your friend. I’d be happy to take Gus to get his haircut another time, but it needs to be scheduled for a time when I’m not so rushed. Right now, though, I’m out of here.”

“But, Brian . . . Brian!” Lindsey called out to him insistently but he didn’t bother to even turn and look her way.

As soon as he was in the car and had pulled out into traffic, Brian hit the bluetooth phone connection on the dashboard. “Cynthia? Sorry to bother you on a Saturday, but there’s one more thing I want you to put on your to do list for Monday. I need a good family law attorney. I can’t take any more of this shit with the Munchers. I want court-enforceable parenting time with Gus that won’t be dangled over my head and then taken away or used to manipulate me.”

“It’s about fucking time, Brian . . .” Cynthia’s voice muttered in the background before Brian ended the call with a huff of laughter and a smile on his face.

The dinner with Mr. & Mrs. PittSteel went off without a hitch. Elsie was gaga over Brian’s big news. She told her husband in no uncertain terms that the company WOULD follow Brian to his new agency and that if anyone threw up a stink over the penalty for breaking the contract with VanGuard, she’d pay the costs out of her own pocket. Then she and Justin went off together to the kitchen, huddled together as thick as thieves over some plan they were apparently hatching. Mr. PittSteel and Brian were left to chat about work stuff for a good half hour before they’d reemerged with mischievous smiles on their faces

The rest of the weekend sped by full of work and Kevan and planning for Kinnetik. Justin finished the Armani boards around noon on Sunday and then started in on something for the Novena campaign. Brian was particularly keen on winning that account, since he had plans to include a contract provision requiring them to give him free skin care products for life in exchange for their advertising. Justin merely giggled at Brian’s obsession with his beautiful skin and worked at trying to ‘butch up’ the company’s line of ‘Pregnancy Safe Skin Care’ products, which so far seemed to only come in varying shades of pink containers. Pink really wasn’t Brian’s color, though, so that was going to be the first thing that would have to change.

About four in the afternoon, the peaceful atmosphere at the Chapel was interrupted by the shrill ringing of Brian’s cell phone. He rushed to answer it before the noise woke Kevan, who’d finally fallen asleep lying on the the couch next to his Daddy. Regrettably, it looked like they were going to have to wake the tyke up anyway, though, since the call was from Detective Horvath who was asking if they could meet somewhere to discuss some developments in the police case against Taggart. Brian talked him out of doing this at the precinct, citing the fact that it was almost dinner time and offering to buy the Detective supper if he gave in and met them at the Diner instead.

A half an hour later they were all seated in the back booth at the Liberty Diner. Kevan was persuaded to chew on a teething biscuit while the adults ate and talked. Debbie was persuaded to put her curiosity on hold for long enough to serve up their orders before she declared she was taking a break and seated herself in the booth next to Carl Horvath.

“So, it looks like the D.A. is going to agree to a five year deferred sentence provided that Mr. Morgan remains in a certified psychiatric care facility,” Horvath concluded after explaining what had been going on so far with regards to Brian’s kidnapping. “The shrinks on both sides agree that he’s completely looney-toons. Apparently the kid’s got a long history of mental health issues - depression, suicide attempts, that type of thing. Looks like you have the honor of driving him completely over the edge though. The doctors are throwing around shit about a ‘Total Psychotic Break’ or something like that. If you ask me it’s all total bullshit, but then again, nobody’s asking me.”

“So he’s just going to get off scot-free?” Debbie complained, thoroughly incensed on Brian’s behalf.

“Not exactly, Ma’am,” Horvath replied deferentially to the redhead sitting next to him. “It’s not like he’ll be out walking the streets or anything. The kid’s being remanded to an in-patient mental program. If at any time in the next five years his doctors say that he’s competent to stand trial, then he’ll be pulled back into the legal system. If he’s still considered mentally incompetent after five years, then the D.A. and the family’s attorneys will probably work out some other deal to keep him in a safe environment for the remainder of his life.”

“Great! So my tax dollars can go to providing the fucker a nice comfy room in a cushy hospital. That’s excellent news,” Brian groused, shoving the half-eaten plate of meatloaf that Debbie had insisted he needed away from him in disgust.

“No, no. Your tax dollars are safe, Mr. Kinney. The kid’s fucking loaded. One of those trust fund babies you hear about. His family’s paying for everything,” the forthright cop elucidated. “Seems that the kid and his parents had a bit of a falling out a few years ago so they kicked him out and had no idea how far gone he'd become. But even so he’s still got a shitload of money coming to him. The family’s lawyer said that Dad’s going to step back in and take over the money and will make sure our perp gets the right medical care. Either way, though, it looks like that’s the end of the case for you two. The good news is that you won’t have to worry about testifying in court or anything.”

“Whoopie!” Brian stated in a monotone voice without any inflection at all. “Well, if that’s all, Detective, then I think Sunshine and I will head home. I’ve got a huge presentation to get ready for tomorrow and sitting here bemoaning the inequities of the legal system aren’t going to win me that account. So, I guess this is goodbye. You ready boys?”

As Brian ushered his crew out the door, he heard Debbie ordering the big burly cop to stay seated and finish his dinner. It made Brian smile. At least some things never changed. A quick look back over his shoulder told him that the seasoned, hard-nosed police detective was indeed still seated in the booth, industriously applying himself to the remains of his food with Debbie hovering maternally over the big guy. And, if Brian’s eyes weren’t deceiving him, that soft look in the hard cop’s eyes when he looked up at the Diner’s Matron was more than just a little affectionate. Maybe they hadn’t seen the last of Detective Horvath after all?