A Portrait of Emily (3 page)

He had long ago stopped coming to her room in the night. When she became a young woman she no longer interested him. Jerry had no idea how much Emily hated her father. He had sensed a tension between them, but when he’d asked what the problem was she had changed the subject immediately. If he wondered why she was reticent in replying, he didn’t pursue it.

He was waiting for her at the foot of the staircase. His smile, as always, made her heart race and she ran into his arms, kissing his warm lips and snuggling into the strong, protective shelter of his embrace. There had been a time when Emily could not have imagined wanting,
needing
, to be this close to any man, to have his lips thrill her and desire to rage in her blood, but Jerry wasn’t any man, he was hers, and she reveled in the love she knew he had for her.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he murmured against her lips. “Gloria and Johnny are here already waiting for you on the patio.”

“Sorry…” She kissed him again. “Did they get something to drink out there?”

“Orange juice and coffee. They’re fine. Come on; let’s beat the pants off them.” They picked up their tennis gear and walked, hand in hand, out to the patio.

Emily ran over to hug Gloria and Johnny. “Gee, I’m glad you could make it today. Haven’t seen you guys in ages.”

“Jerry has been keeping you way too much to himself these days,” Gloria teased. “It was good of him to include us in your busy schedule today.”

“Oh, right, like you’re sitting around, twiddling your thumbs waiting for an invitation.”

“And we get to see you
twice
this week,” Gloria reminded her. “You
are
coming to my birthday party on Saturday, aren’t you?”

“It’s the grand portrait unveiling.” Johnny slipped an arm around his wife. “She’d be crushed if you weren’t there to ‘Ooh and Ah’ over it—it’s a
Peter
Brandon
you know.”

Gloria gave her husband a playful dig in the ribs. “Ignore him, babies. Just wait ‘til you see it though. Peter’s made me look even more fabulous than I am.”

They all laughed together and Gloria took Emily’s arm as they walked over to the tennis court. “Where’s your father?” she whispered as they walked ahead of the men.

“Away, thank goodness. He won’t be back ‘til Friday.”

Gloria was the one to whom Emily had turned when her mother had denied her support. She had been horrified by what Emily told her, but had believed every word. Even as a little girl, Gloria had never cared for her Uncle Charlie. There was always something there, beneath the surface that she found intolerably
creepy
. Gloria had been revolted at an early age by her uncle’s roving hands and always managed to distance herself from him at any family gathering.

Johnny had noticed her obvious dislike of her uncle after he met the Hasting family for the first time, but she didn’t dare share Emily’s secret with him, much as she hated keeping anything from him. So she had made up some silly story about how he’d embarrassed her once in front of the entire family about her lack of tennis prowess. Johnny had seemed to buy it and she had reminded herself not to look too good on the tennis court the first two or three times they played together.

She grinned at her cousin. “You’re looking awfully pleased with yourself Emily.”

“Jerry asked me to marry him last night.”

“How wonderful…Of course you said yes.”

“Uh huh, but we haven’t told anyone else yet.”

“I am so happy for you Emily.” Gloria turned to the two men walking behind them. “Emily just gave me the good news. Congratulations Jerry.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow. “What’s this—a job promotion or something?”

Jerry smiled happily. “I asked Emily to marry me and she said yes.”

“Hey, congratulations.”

Gloria steered Emily toward the tennis courts. “How do you think your dad will take the news?”

“With his usual bile I expect. He’s already shown he doesn’t like Jerry; but he likes the pedigree well enough.”

“He always was a snob. Well, I for one am
thrilled
for you. Jerry seems like a great guy—not to mention hot.”

Emily chuckled. “I’ll tell him you think he’s hot…and you’re right. He’s also unpretentious. You’d never know he came from all that money.”

“Well, he’s not exactly marrying a pauper. As much as I don’t care for your father, I have to admit he’ll leave you very well set up when he finally kicks the bucket.” Emily was silent for a moment and Gloria added, “Sorry. I’m being crass. Don’t pay any attention to me.”

She quickly changed the subject to remind Emily again of her impending birthday party. “You’ll get to meet Peter. You know, the artist I told you about who was in a coma for
years—
and his partner, Jeff. Jeff’s a private detective. They are the most divine looking men you will ever see.”

“Gloria, why are you even looking at other men when you have Johnny?”

“No harm in
looking
, Emily. When I stop looking, I’ll be dead.” She laughed then added, “But I have to admit there’s not much point—he’s gay. Jeff is his
lover,
sweetie—and they are devoted to one another.”

“Oh, what a waste,” Emily said.

“Isn’t it though? Except I don’t think either one of them would agree with us on that!”

CHAPTER THREE

“Jeff?” Monica, Jeff’s receptionist, called over his intercom.

“Yes, Monica?”

“There’s an Alfonso Gutierrez here to see you. I don’t have him down for an appointment, but he says he only needs a few minutes of your time.”

“Okay, send him in.”

Jeff frowned and looked at his appointment schedule. Nothing for an hour. Most of his clients didn’t care for early morning appointments so he usually used the time to catch up on paperwork and billing. He got up from his desk as the door opened then froze, recognizing the man who appeared in the doorway.

“
Joey
.”

“Hey,
amigo
.”

Jeff’s breath caught in his throat as he gazed across the room at the man he had thought he would never see again. In six years he had hardly changed at all. Still tall and slender, still the honey colored skin glowing with health and vitality, the thick black hair combed back from his brow, emphasizing the sleek planes of his face and the green of his eyes. He closed the door behind him and, with a dancer’s easy grace, walked slowly toward Jeff and into his arms.

“I’ve missed you,
amigo mio
,” he whispered, then took Jeff’s lips in a long and passionate kiss. Several moments ticked by as Jeff gave into the sensation that coursed through his blood. This beautiful body he’d thought he would never hold again was pressed against his, bringing alive every fiber and nerve ending in a tumultuous sensation of desire. His arms tightened around Joey’s slim and supple body and he could feel the man’s erection pressing against his own burgeoning cock.

Jesus, what am I doing?

Realization of the full measure of just what had happened hit Jeff like a slap in the face and he pulled away from Joey’s embrace holding him by the shoulders at arms’ length. Joey smiled sweetly and reached out to fondle Jeff’s crotch, but Jeff moved away to the comparative safety of his desk.

Joey smirked. “You are obviously very pleased to see me.”

Once again in control, Jeff’s gray eyes glittered with anger. “You walk in here after six years using a false name and expect me to just fall into your arms like nothing happened?”

“Well, you didn’t resist my kiss…
and
you got a hard on. Don’t deny it—I felt it.”

“I won’t deny it. You always did have the power to turn me on instantly. It was always about the sex with you and me. But things have changed now…”

“Oh yeah, I know all about that. ‘
The gifted artist,
Peter Bra
ndon
…’ I read all about you two in the magazines. Well, you certainly landed yourself a big fish! He’s
loaded
, I understand.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This Peter is wealthy, no? Well, I could use some of that wealth. I’m in a bit of a mess financially. I owe to some people who are getting impatient. What about talking to your wealthy boyfriend and—”

“Stop right there,” Jeff cut in. “Whatever you have in mind you can forget. Jesus, you think I’m with Peter because of his money?”

Joey laughed. “Oh, come
on
. It doesn’t hurt that the guy is loaded. Makes things a lot easier for you, eh?”

Jeff sat down behind his desk and stared at Joey, the first traces of dislike on his face. “This is why you’re here? To see if I could get Peter to float you a loan?”

“No, not a loan, amigo. I have a loan. I want to be free of that loan.”

Jeff fought back the angry retort that trembled on his lips. “Why don’t you tell me what kind of trouble you’re in? Maybe I can figure out a way to help.”

“Oh, always Mr. Nice-guy. There is only one way to help—get me the money.”

“No way. That’s not going to happen.”

Joey came round to where Jeff sat and knelt at his side. “Please Jeff, please? I beg you…help me.” He put his hand on Jeff’s thigh and began to stroke it, his fingers inching near the zipper of Jeff’s slacks.

Jeff knocked Joey’s hand away then stood, pulling Joey to his feet. “I’ll help you, but not that way. You don’t have to give me a hand job to get what you want.”

“Believe me, the pleasure would be mine.”

“It’s over, Joey. I’ve moved on.”

“You think so, eh? I think you’d like to fuck me right now.” He reached out and tore Jeff’s shirt open, pressing his lips against his bare chest.

“Stop that!” Jeff pushed him away roughly. “What don’t you understand about ‘it’s over’?”

Joey’s expression of disbelief quickly turned to anger. His eyes blazed as he hissed at Jeff, “Asshole. You want to see me dead? That’s what I’ll be if you don’t help me.”

“Calm down, for God’s sake.” Jeff grabbed Joey’s arm. “Tell me what happened.”

“You don’t give a damn what happened.” Joey pulled himself from Jeff’s grasp. “All you care about is that prissy artist guy you live with—who you
say
you love. You don’t care what happens to me.”

“Stop being such a drama queen Joey. Just tell me who you owe the money to and how much.”

“A syndicate in Puerto Rico.” Joey began pacing the office floor. “I owe them five hundred thousand.” He slumped down on Jeff’s desk as though suddenly deflated
.

“
God Almighty
.” Jeff gasped. “Five hundred thousand? How the hell did that happen?”

“My partners ripped me off. They left me high and dry, owing the money.”

“And the syndicate is only after you? What about your partners? Don’t they want them too?”

“They disappeared.”

“And
you
couldn’t disappear? I thought that was something you were very good at—
disappearing
.”

“I tried, believe me.” Joey ignored Jeff’s barb. “I came back here, but they caught up with me somehow. They know where I am and they’ve given me five days to get the money—or it’s over.”

Jeff leaned back in his chair and stared grimly at Joey. The man avoided the eye contact, a faint tint coloring his cheeks.

“All right Joey. Now tell me the truth. I’m not buying any of that hogwash.”

The man’s eyes widened in surprise. “You think I’m lying to you?”

“I know you are. I know you’re way too smart to be caught in a deal like that. You might need money, but it’s not because some “syndicate” is after your hide. Try telling me the truth, it might just help.”

“Oh ho, Mr. Clever who thinks he knows everything.” Joey got up from Jeff’s desk and paced about the office again. Jeff watched him in silence, figuring Joey was rethinking his strategy. “Okay,” he said finally. “You win, there’s no one after me, but I need some money quickly.”

“Get a job then.”

“I have a job, smart-ass. My own business. I have a photographic studio in LA.”

Jeff raised his eyebrows in surprise. He knew Joey had been a talented photographer and Jeff had urged him to take advantage of his gift, but at the time he hadn’t been interested.

“So you’re finally doing something you’re good at.”

“Yes, but now I’m in trouble with the landlord. I can’t pay the lease—he wants six months in advance because I’ve been late so many times.”

Jeff’s mouth twitched. “The rent is five hundred thousand dollars?”

“No, of course not. But it’s two thousand a month and I haven’t got it.”

“Have you tried negotiating with him? Say a couple of months in advance?”

“I don’t have a couple of
week
s.”

Jeff looked at his ex-lover and slowly shook his head. How typical of Joey to come busting in like this, giving him a song and dance about Puerto Rican syndicates and threats on his life, when all he needed was a bill paid off. He’d lived in Joey’s over the top world long enough to know he was an inveterate liar who would spin any tale to get what he wanted—the more bizarre, the better—and if he thought he could actually convince Jeff to come up with five hundred thousand of Peter’s money, he’d go for it.

“Where have you been, Joey?” Jeff asked quietly. “You left me without a word, without any idea of what might have happened to you. Do you know that I have imagined you
dead
after all this time? Now you barge in here, lying through your teeth, demanding money, and with not one word of apology.”

Joey looked downcast. “I am truly sorry, Jeff. I was just…
scared
of the commitment you wanted from me.”

“Bullshit. You just wanted out. It had run its course for you and you wanted out. Plain and simple.”

“I can’t fool you anymore, eh Jeff?” Joey slid his body onto Jeff’s lap and began kissing his face. “But I still find you very sexy…”

“Cut it
out
,” Jeff roared.

Joey jumped to his feet laughing. “All right amigo, I get the message. You love Blondie, with or without all his money.”

“That’s enough, Joey.” Jeff’s expression shut his ex-lover up momentarily. “I’ll see if I can raise enough for you to pay your landlord. But I’m not asking Peter for it. How much money do you have?”