Almost But Not Quite

Chapter 9







Justin hustled from table to table removing plates and carrying the heavy trays of dirty dishes to the kitchen. His father had got him a job at this hotel. He was a fucking busboy, but it made his father happy. He was earning some money to use at Dartmouth. That way he wouldn't be quite so dependent on his father for everything. That was the only good thing about this lousy job.

He hoisted the heavy tray onto his shoulder the way he had been shown. His back ached and he was tired, but there was only dessert left. Then he could go home and shower and crawl into bed. He headed through the door into the kitchen as the desserts started coming out.

Before the door closed he heard an announcement about the start of presentations as soon as everyone had their dessert. He placed the tray on the counter.

"Load the dishwasher," James, the guy in charge, told him. "And make sure you scrape the plates."

"Yes, sir," Justin said wanting to punch the overbearing fool in the face.

He started his task as the waiters came back for more trays of dessert. By the time he had the dishwasher loaded it was time to go start collecting the empty dessert plates. With a sigh he headed out into the ballroom carrying an empty tray. He loaded it with the empty dessert dishes from the surrounding tables. They were presenting some company with an award for advertising. Justin looked around as a man at one table stood up and made his way to the front of the room.

He didn't have time to listen to what the man was saying in his speech. His tray was full. Justin hoisted it up and made his way to the kitchen. He set the tray on the counter and headed out again for the next round of dirty dishes.

Justin had filled another tray when he heard the announcer say that the final presentation of the evening would be the Atlas Adman of the Year Award. He picked up his tray and headed to the kitchen once again.



*****



The advertising awards were in full swing, almost at the final presentation, when Brian Kinney walked into the room. He had deliberately skipped dinner knowing that he couldn’t sit at the table with the people from Ryder. He thought it was rather ironic that he was up for this award based on his work at Ryder. He was sure that Marty Ryder, and that fucking Kip Thomas, had done their best to get his name taken off the list of potential recipients. However, he was pretty sure that hadn’t happened. He would enjoy rubbing it in their faces if he won, and he was sure that he should win if merit meant anything.

Brian didn’t want to have to make small talk with whomever he was seated. He never liked having to explain himself, and questions about his status at Ryder could prove hard to answer.

Brian found a seat at a table at the back where only two people that he didn't know were sitting. He sat through the award that was being presented to the advertising company of the year. He held his breath wondering if the Ryder Agency would win. He knew they were nominated.

Across the room he could see the Ryder table. Marty Ryder was there with his wife. He expected to see Cynthia, but she didn't seem to be present, even though they had arranged for a seat for her when Brian was nominated. Now that Brian was in disgrace, they obviously saw no need to include her. Well, fuck them. Then Brian saw him, Kip Thomas, sitting across from Marty Ryder. Fucking little asshole. If Brian won, make that when he won the award, he'd show the little fucker.

The Borsini Agency won for company of the year. Brian couldn't help but smile. He could see the glower on Marty Ryder's face. Served the prick right.

The final award to be handed out was about to be named. It was the award he was up for. Brian held his breath, even though he gave every appearance of not giving a fuck about the award.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'm Adam Lyons from Kennedy and Collins in New York. At our agency we have a saying: The only thing better than great sex is a great ad campaign. In looking over the candidates for the Atlas Adman of the Year, I am sure we have found the best. This year's Adman of the Year is … Brian Kinney."

With his patented smirk, Brian stood up. He glanced at the Ryder table and noted that Kip Thomas had also stood. That little fucker had intended to collect his award. Brian glared at Kip until the man realized that Brian Kinney was indeed present. Kip shook his head and sat down. Brian made his way to the front of the room. He exchanged a knowing look with Mr. Adam Lyons, a look that promised things to come. "Want to test out that saying?" Brian whispered. The look on Adam's face told him the answer to his question.

Then Brian took the award and turned to the audience. "I won't keep you long. I just wanted to thank you for this recognition and announce that I am starting my own ad agency. I look forward to competing with all of you next year." He stared at Kip Thomas and then Marty Ryder before leaving the platform. He made sure to walk past the Ryder table as he headed for the back of the ballroom. He couldn't resist waving his trophy insolently at them on the way by.



*****



Justin had changed out of his waiter's uniform and into his civvies. He went back into the kitchen to find James and get his paycheck.

"Here you are," James said handing an envelope to Justin.

"Thanks."

"You didn't do a bad job, kid," James said with a pained look on his face.

Justin could only surmise that the pained look was due to the fact that James never had anything good to say about anyone or anything, at least not since Justin had first met the man. The fact that James was almost complimenting him on the work he had done was rather miraculous.

"Thanks," Justin repeated and turned away.

"I have another banquet tomorrow night, if you'd like more work," James said.

Justin turned around. This was supposed to be a one shot thing, but he could always use more money. "Sure," Justin said. "What time?"

“Be here at five," James told him.

"Thanks," Justin replied again and walked to the door of the kitchen. His back and feet suddenly didn't feel quite so painful. He pushed the door open.



*****



Outside the ballroom, Brian waited counting to twenty. That was how long Adam Lyons had to reach him. At seventeen seconds Adam hustled out of the ballroom and stopped in front of Brian.

"Where?" Adam asked.

Brian had thought about this. The restrooms were his first choice, but he was far too likely to meet someone he knew in there. He didn't need to provide any more ammunition to those who were taking potshots at him.

"Follow me," Brian said, leading the way up a set of stairs to a mezzanine area that overlooked the ballroom.



*****



Justin came out the door of the ballroom. He was still thinking about getting more money before he headed off to Dartmouth. He had worked hard tonight, and he supposed that his hard work had paid off.

He glanced up and saw the man who had presented the final award of the evening. He was rather good looking, but not as good looking as his Brian had been. He watched the man disappearing up the stairs that led to a mezzanine above the ballroom. He shrugged and walked along the hall to the elevators. He needed to get home and take that shower and fall into bed. He had to do all this over again tomorrow.



*****



It didn't take Brian long to get his dick shoved up Adam Lyons’ ass. Covered by screens and equipment, Brian was pretty sure no one would see them. After a few minutes, Brian felt his orgasm building and he drove hard into the suave New Yorker. They both came with an intensity Brian hadn't felt for months. Maybe it was the situation, fucking this high priced New York adman barely hidden from the eyes of his peers that made their fuck so exciting. Whatever it was Brian enjoyed it … immensely. He never got enough of men begging for his dick. When they were done Brian tucked in his shirt and zipped up his trousers.

"What's someone like you doing in this backwater burg?" Adam asked as he adjusted his clothes. The satisfied look on Adam’s face told Brian that the adman had enjoyed the fuck as much as Brian had. "You should be in New York, not in this place," Adam told him.

"Should I?" Brian asked raising an eyebrow.

“We might have a position coming up at Kennedy and Collins. Why don’t you submit a resume?”

“Hm, I might just do that,” Brian mused.

“In the meantime, I’m ready for another round if you are,” Adam said with a grin.

Brian bent him over the railing and plunged in once more. Things were definitely looking up.



*****



“Justin?”

“Yeah, Daph.”

They were sitting on the ledge outside the school during the lunch break. Daphne was eating a wrap and Justin was sketching.

“Are you going to go to the prom?”

“Me? Fuck no! What about you?”

“I’d kinda like to go, but…”

“But what?” Justin asked looking up from the sketch of Daphne’s hand that he was drawing.

“I don’t have anyone to go with.”

“What happened to Glenn?” He was the swimmer that Daphne had been sort of dating for a couple of weeks.

Daphne made a face. “That’s over. He’s with Meaghan Brice.”

“Fickle bastard!” Justin said with a smile.

Daphne grinned at the support that Justin always gave her. “I … um … I was thinking. What if you and me went together?”

“Us?”

“Yeah, us. We can go as friends, but it will be kind of a date. You’re a passable dancer, considering that I’ve taught you everything I know,” Daphne said with a little giggle.

“I can dance,” Justin declared.

“So, does that mean you’ll go with me?”

Justin looked thoughtful. After a minute he said, “Sure, I’ll go. It will make my mother and father happy that I have a ‘date’ for the prom.” He used air quotes around the word date.

“Well, I’m not that bad to be associated with,” Daphne said rather indignant at Justin’s reason for going.

“I know,” Justin grinned. “You clean up okay.”

“Asshole!” Daphne laughed swatting him hard on the arm.



*****



Brian had managed to line up a few clients for his new business which he was calling Kinnetik, using a form of his name and the word for energy. That was one of the best things he had come up with so far. He had business cards printed with his cell phone number and the address of the loft. He couldn’t afford to rent an office yet. After posting flyers all over Liberty Avenue, Brian had managed to find an art student who was willing to do some art work for him on weekends and evenings. He paid the guy by the work that he did. The kid wasn’t half bad.

But Brian also made a big gamble, buying some very expensive computer software that would make it possible for him to do most of his own artwork on his computer. That way he didn’t have to rely on anybody else, and better still, he didn’t have to pay them a salary.

Brian had several clients who paid fairly well, but he knew he needed a bigger account if he was going to be able to keep things going. He checked his list of clients whose contracts were going to run out at Ryder. There really wasn’t anyone that he thought he might be able to pull away, at least not for the next month.

With a huge sigh, Brian studied the figures on his spreadsheet again. He was barely staying above water, even without an office and staff. Something had to change or his new enterprise seemed doomed.

His cell rang as he was plumbing the depths of despair. When he answered he immediately recognized the voice of Adam Lyons of Kennedy and Collins in New York. He felt his heart soar. He had sent his resume to Kennedy and Collins as Adam had suggested, but he hadn’t heard anything for a few weeks. Maybe at long last this was some good news.

“What’s up?” Brian asked trying to sound upbeat.

“Um…”

Brian felt his stomach turn over. Um was never a good start to a statement. “I hope you have some good news for me,” Brian said holding his breath. If Kennedy and Collins wanted him, he’d pack in this feeble attempt at his own business in a split second.

“’Fraid not,” Adam said slowly. “You didn’t tell me you had been terminated at Ryder.”

“I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“Not relevant! Jesus, Brian! The words ‘sexual harassment’ are like a red flag. Did you think they wouldn’t find out?”

Brian blinked hard. They didn’t want him. “I thought my expertise and award winning ads might make a difference,” Brian replied trying to keep his voice level as he fought back emotion.

“You know better than that,” Adam warned him.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

Brian cut the connection. He didn’t want to talk about going to New York. That dream was now firmly dead. He should have known that all along, but he had been fooling himself into thinking that he still might be a marketable commodity.

He leaned back in his chair and fought the tears that threatened to run down his cheek. ‘Fuck it!’ he thought. ‘Fuck it all to hell!’ He was going to be thirty in a few days. His life as a gay man might as well be over. And now any hope he had of getting out of fucking Pittsburgh had effectively been killed. His ability to make a fucking living was highly questionable at the moment too. His life might as well be over.

He drew in a long breath and stood up. On unsteady legs he walked over to the bar cart and poured himself the last bit of Jim Beam from the last bottle on the cart. He downed it in one long gulp. It didn’t make him feel any better at all.