Guys on Top 02 - Guys on the Side (10 page)

Stepping out into the cool night air, he took a deep breath, steadying himself for a moment, then immediately made his way to the car.

He didn’t look back, not wanting to know if Brooks had followed him outside. Instead he hopped in the car, started the engine, and made his way down the driveway and onto the road as quickly as he could without being reckless.

As he headed home toward his apartment, he rolled down the window, letting the air clear his head. He thought of Corey, and guilt hit him so hard it felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

Fuck. What the
hell
did I just do?

He’d let another guy kiss him. Do more than kiss him. Not only that, he’d kissed him back, willingly. Guilt welled inside him like a tidal wave, crashing down and making him feel sick.

Never again. He’d never let anything like that happen again. And more importantly, he’d never,
ever
let Corey find out about it. After all the hell Zach had been giving Corey about the other men in his life, tonight’s events went beyond hypocrisy. And he knew there was no way in hell Corey would forgive him.

Nothing happened
, he told himself. That’s it. He’d just convince himself nothing had happened. Just wipe tonight off the map of his experiences, make it disappear like it never was.

And pray that he
never
ran into Brooks again.

Chapter Six

Angelo wished he didn’t have to go back to the office after lunch. He normally had a good work ethic and positive attitude. He liked what he did, and genuinely cared about his clients.

But it was Monday, and it was goddam beautiful outside. He’d only had one client in the morning so was fortunately able to take a long lunch, and had gone down to the park to be alone and feed the ducks while he ate his sandwich. While he often lunched with his buddies who also worked in the city, today he needed the quiet, because his 1:00 pm appointment was Sarah Hall, a woman who’d lost a child recently, and he needed a serene mind before her sessions, as they tended to get pretty heavy. Angelo was an objective therapist, but was unable to stop the clients’ energies from seeping into his own. While it was helpful in his ability to empathize, it tended to leave him husked out and emotional afterward.

He walked through the front doors to the clinic, then turned down the first hallway, stopping in the bathroom to freshen up. Setting his briefcase on the counter, he removed his glasses and checked himself in the mirror, straightening his tie and lightly slapping his cheeks to wake himself up. Popping a mint in his mouth, he closed the briefcase, and headed out of the bathroom.

Pushing through the glass doors to the office space he shared with two other doctors, he passed the small waiting room and went straight to the reception desk. It was a quiet, fairly intimate practice, atmospherically calm with olive green walls, comfortable couches, with lots of potted palms and soft, soothing music.

Barbara, the receptionist, was a pretty middle-aged woman with dyed blonde hair and thin physique, always impeccably dressed. Angelo liked her a lot, and smiled as he crossed the room toward her. “Dr. Nardovino, I’m glad you’re here. Your one o’clock canceled.”

“Sarah canceled? Is she all right?”

“Some sort of babysitter problem, but she did reschedule.”

“Oh, she rescheduled, good. When’s my next appointment? Not for another hour, right?” He checked his watch with a hint of relief, hoping he could go back outside in the fresh air for a while. But he kept a professional poker face for Barbara, managing to look appropriately disappointed rather than jumping up and down.
Yay, no school!

“I did get a new patient registered this morning, however, so with the last minute cancelation I booked him into Sarah’s slot.”

Angelo’s glee dissipated, and he didn’t do a very good job of hiding it, because Barbara frowned up at him.

“Should I not have done that? You told me I could go ahead and book new patients into the system, remember we met about it last month, and you said—”

“It’s fine, Barbara, great. Can I see the paperwork?”

“Of course.” She handed him a folder.

Angelo flipped it open and scanned the details. Young male...

Holy hell, that’s a long list
. Angelo gave his head a shake, then scanned the items listed under ‘reasons for visit.’

Anxiety, grief, feelings of persecution, delusions of grandeur, agoraphobia, enochlophobia, kleptomania, haphephobia...

Who the hell was this guy? He glanced at the name, his scowl deepening, then he laughed. “Ah, Barbara. Did you speak to this patient?”

She blinked. “Yes. Of course.”

“Well, did you realize this is a joke?”

“What do you mean?”

Setting the file down on the counter, he turned it around to Barbara and pointed. “Didn’t you catch the name? Phillip McCrevice.”

Barbara frowned at him.

Angelo threw his hands up. “Phillip McCrevice? Get it?
Fill up
my crevice? It’s a joke name. A prank. This is not a real patient.”

“
Oh
.” Barbara wrung her hands nervously. “Well...the thing is...Mr. McCrevice is in your office right now.”

Angelo chuckled. “Right.”

“No, I’m serious. He’s in there. He said he couldn’t handle the waiting room because of his many...social phobias. I figured you wouldn’t mind.” She shrugged. “He already paid.”

Angelo’s grin slid away. He rubbed his forehead. “Oh.” He picked up the folder. “Are you
sure
this is a real patient?”

“Yes, I signed him in myself. Shy fellow, but very nice.”

“Um...” He shook his head. “Okay then. I’ll go in and see Mr...McCrevice.” He turned and headed down the hallway toward his office.

When he opened the door and stepped into the room, he paused. “Excuse me?”

Someone sat in Angelo’s chair behind his desk, facing the wall. Angelo could only see his hands on the armrests. Closing the door behind him, he moved cautiously into the room. “Mr. McCrevice?”

The chair didn’t move.

“Hello? Excuse, me, Sir? I’d prefer it if you took the other seat over here.”

The patient still faced the wall, silent.

Sighing, Angelo approached the desk. “Phillip McCrevice?”

The chair swiveled around, and Angelo’s briefcase slipped from his hand and hit the floor. Corey Stengel smiled up at him. “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

For a moment Angelo’s mouth hung open and he simply stared. “You...what...what are you doing here?”

Corey pointed at the folder Angelo still held. “Did you read my chart? I’ve got a
lot
of problems, doc.”

Angelo’s heart thudded in his chest, the shock of seeing Corey making his face flush. He finally got control of himself, and moved to his desk, slapping the folder down as he let out a breath. “You can’t be here. This is a place of business.”

“Yeah.” Corey stood, stretching his back. “You should think about getting a new desk chair, that one is really uncomfortable.” Angelo watched Corey stroll across the floor to the window. He rested his palm on the wall and looked out. “Nice view of the park, though.”

With Corey’s back turned, Angelo took a moment to take in his appearance, which was more put together looking than when he’d last seen him at the apartment house with Tommy. He wore a nice black shirt tucked loosely into dark green slacks with a brown belt, and his blond hair was neat and combed. “How did you find me?” Angelo asked.

Corey turned to face him. “I’m crafty.”

“If you want to discuss what happened the other day we can do that outside of here another time, but this is—”

“A place of business,” Corey said, cutting him off. “Just like my home. So, Angelo.” Corey moved toward him and Angelo fought the urge to take a step back. “You’re an expert at human behavior, huh?”

“I...I...”
Fuck. This guy’s got me rattled
.

“Tell me then, Angelo. What would you say about the behavior of someone who shows up at another’s
place of business
and threatens his life?”

“Okay, look,” Angelo said. “I do want to talk to you about that, but not here. If you’re willing to do that, we can go somewhere and talk right now. But
not
here. And that’s non-negotiable, so if you want to push it, I’ll call security and have you thrown out.”

Smirking, Corey widened his eyes. “Ah. There you are. I wasn’t fooled by your leather jacket the other day, but I can see now there’s a scrappy little Boston boy underneath that pretty, professional packaging.”

Corey’s eyes locked onto Angelo’s in a way that made him feel cornered, and for a moment he felt like the guy
could
see right through him, right into his soul. “As I said, I’ll talk with you if we can go somewhere else. Do we have a deal?”

Shrugging, Corey nodded. “All right. But after your little stunt the other day I think you should at least buy me a drink, so somewhere with alcohol. No shitty little coffee house.”

Moving across the floor, Angelo picked up his fallen briefcase, then went back to his desk and locked it in his drawer. “You ready?” he asked, avoiding Corey’s eyes.

“Lead the way,
doctor
.”

Angelo opened the door and headed down the hall, trusting Corey would follow. The snide way Corey had said
doctor
wasn’t lost on him, and he knew that despite the man’s controlled, cordial tone, he had no respect for Angelo, and was extremely pissed off.

But Angelo was no slouch when it came to dealing with awkward conversations and bad attitudes, and he was confident he could resolve this in a peaceful way if Corey was willing to give him the chance.

“I’ll be back, Barbara,” he said as he passed through reception.

“Okay,” Barbara said. “Goodbye, Mr. McCrevice, it was nice to meet you.”

Angelo glanced back.

“Nice to meet you as well,” Corey said, then caught Angelo’s gaze, humor dancing in his eyes.

They moved to the front of the building, and Angelo stole a glance at Corey as he pushed open the door. “I can’t believe you got her to sign you in using that name.”

Corey followed him out onto the sidewalk. “I can be very persuasive at times.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.”

“That didn’t sound like a compliment, Dr. Nardovino. Still thinking I’m a conman?”

Angelo stopped and frowned at Corey, who stood a couple of inches taller than he did. “Let’s just save the conversation until we’re sitting down, okay? There’s a pub around the corner.”

“Of course,” Corey said. “
I’m
very civilized.”

Angelo’s lips tightened. “This way. Let’s go.”

****

Corey followed Angelo Nardovino into a sports bar called The Inside Pitch, which at this early hour had mostly old guys clustered at the bar watching one of the big screens. Angelo gestured toward a booth, and Corey sat.

“What do you want to drink?” Angelo asked. “I’ll go get it.”

“Whatever’s on draft,” Corey said.

Angelo nodded and went up to the bar.

Corey watched him, admiring the cut of his shoulders in his shirt and curve of his ass in expensive-looking slacks. It was only a cursory admiration, but it was hard not to notice Angelo was great looking, with that naturally bronze skin and those intense blue eyes. Not that Corey was interested. He didn’t flirt with straight guys, and even if he did, this was not a flirting kind of scenario. Plus he was loyal to Zach, more determined than ever to make the relationship work.

Zach had come by the day before and spent the afternoon with Corey before staying over, and seemed to have gotten over being pissed off at him the night before. But Zach was acting strange, quiet, and a bit too agreeable. He’d even offered to invite Doug and Stewart for a barbecue sometime, which Corey supposed was his way of letting him know he was done with the jealousy thing. But still, it felt odd. Zach’s entire demeanor seemed to have changed overnight, and he’d spent the evening quietly fused to Corey’s side, saying very little. But when they’d gone to bed, Zach had pounced on Corey, making love to him like his life depended on it, his passion almost desperate.

Corey supposed this meant their talk on Saturday had gotten through to Zach. Which was good to know. He’d been skeptical there would be any change, but Zach seemed to be willing to meet him halfway, and that gave Corey a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in some time, which probably had much to do with the calm he felt right now, even though he was about to confront this thug shrink. But Angelo seemed willing to talk like an adult, so Corey was in turn willing to give him a chance to make his case.

Angelo returned with two draft beers, and set them down before sliding into the booth seat across from him. Eyes shifting around the bar, Angelo took a sip of beer, avoiding Corey’s direct stare. After setting the beer down, Angelo ran a hand over his short dark hair, and his high forehead creased when he finally looked at Corey. “So tell me what exactly you’ve been doing with my Uncle Len.”

“No, no,” Corey said. “You don’t get to start this conversation. Unless you start with an apology.”

Angelo’s nostrils flared as he let out a breath through his nose. “All right. I apologize. For myself, and for Tommy. My cousin presented me with a certain picture that day. A picture I’m not sure was accurate.”

“I accept your apology.”

Angelo’s eyes widened. “You do?”

“I’m a reasonable guy. But I’d like some assurance that your cousin has gotten all his rabies shots and is done with his little crusade against the
faggot
masseur.”

“Oh, yeah.” Angelo stretched back against the seat, eyebrows pinched. “I’m gonna talk to him. After I call Uncle Len. I’ve got a colleague in town, a counselor who sometimes deals with gay and lesbian issues, particularly for those coming out later in life. Like Uncle Len.”

Surprised, Corey leaned forward, tilting his head. “Is this to
help
Leonard?”

“Of course. Why else would I do it? He’s family.”