Jake's Thief (2 page)

“You were a paralegal. Why didn’t you sue for wrongful termination?” “I tried, but all I could afford for a lawyer was a hack, Milton Fried. He sent out a few letters, charged me five hundred dollars—and that was that. The letters probably wound up in the circular file. I paid Fried all the money I could afford. I cashed in my 401K, went through my savings and pawned my television, stereo equipment and my computer months ago.” He paused. “I’m down to my last twenty bucks, which I’ll need to pay subway fare in case I get an interview. I bought minutes for the phone for this month in case I got a call back, but on the first, I’m out of my apartment and I haven’t eaten anything but Ramen for six weeks and there hasn’t been any Ramen for two days.”

“What about unemployment insurance?” Jake turned around to really look the kid in his eyes.

“It ran out a month ago and because I was fired, I had to wait six weeks before I was eligible and it wasn’t much.”

“If you’re good enough to be the managing partner’s paralegal—why can’t you get a job?”

“Blake and Sampson won’t give me a good reference and as I said, Mr. Danvers is on a trip around the world. I made all the bookings for him. He should be in Belgrade now. I can’t call him. His wife swore if he heard from the office she’d divorce him and that woman is scary. Besides, I can barely afford a phone. It’s a burner phone and doesn’t make international calls. Mr. Danvers will be gone for another three months. All of the other members of Mr. Danvers’ team got letters of recommendation before he left. They saw the writing on the wall. I was blind to it, too busy trying to do my job to get involved in office politics. I know he’d give me a good reference but now when you call the firm and ask about me, they say I was fired for cause. But I didn’t do anything wrong.” He broke into tears again.

§ § §

“Why did you try to be a pickpocket? You’re not a very good one.” Jake asked with amusement, having already decided to let the kid go. After hearing his story, he was inclined to help him. He’d dealt with Danvers, Blake and Simpson and he knew Blake and Simpson were ethically challenged. Danvers was the one with the decent reputation. He could see the kid was telling the truth.

“It’s the only other thing I know how to do.” The kid hiccupped.
He doesn’t seem like a thief, there is a story there.

Jake picked him up off the front seat and took off the cuffs. “Sit up, kid.” He started to shake. “Don’t worry, I’m only going to buy you dinner and you can tell me how you learned to be the worst pickpocket in New York City.” He seemed so grateful that Jake didn’t call the police that he went with him quietly. They got into the Audi and drove uptown.

They wound up at Bobby Van’s Steakhouse on Fifty-Fourth Street between Park Avenue and Lexington. The restaurant looked like an old fashioned gentleman’s club with wooden panels on the bottom portion of the wall and the upper portion was painted gold. The tables were set with crisp white tablecloths. Off the dining room was an old-fashioned long bar with large backless bar stools. The waiter handed Jake the menu and he ordered appetizers and iced water with lemon slices for both of them. “We’ll wait to order the entrees.”

“Yes, Mr. Cohen.” He came here often. They were used to his habits.

“Tell me your story, kid…”

“My name is Davey Howell. I worked directly for Mr. Danvers. I have a photographic memory which he found useful. I prepared all of his briefs.” Two iced waters with lemon showed up at the table. Jake saw Davey furtively take a sip. watching him to see if he approved.

Jake leaned back in his chair thinking. “I remember sitting in court waiting for the judge. Danvers presented a brief that was so well-written and researched that I was impressed. He said his paralegal prepared it. I suppose that was you.” Their appetizer arrived— he had ordered calamari and clams oreganata.

“This is really good. I’ve never had clams or calamari before.”

“Anything is going to taste good to you, kid, you’re hungry.”

Davey then answered Jake’s question. “Yes, Sir, he wouldn’t work with anyone else.”

“I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Jake Cohen of Cohen, Gilcrest and Sampson.”

“Oh my God, you’re the best contracts lawyer in the city.”

Jake inclined his head. “How did you learn to pick pockets?”

Davey’s eyes dimmed and got glassy again. “I was in a foster home. I was eleven and had a crush on an older boy, Kyle, who was sixteen. He thought it would be a kick to teach me to pick pockets. When he finished teaching me, I was pretty good, but I thought it was just a game—until he wanted me to do it for real. I objected. I was in that foster home for a few months and the people were okay. I didn’t want to get in trouble. Kyle beat me up pretty bad. I had a broken arm, a broken nose and a black eye. Kyle had been with the family for three years. I tried to tell them what happened although I was afraid of telling them about being taught to be a pickpocket. I was afraid of another beating and I had already taken too many. Anyway, they sent me away, said I was a bad influence on Kyle.”

The waiter came back over. Jake ordered their entrée. “I’d like two orders of Caesar Salad and an order of your porterhouse steak for two with mashed potatoes, gravy and a mixed vegetable plate. Make the meat medium rare.” The waiter left the table and Jake resumed the conversation. “That wasn’t fair, he was bigger than you, were they stupid?” The waiter brought bread to the table and Jake motioned for Davey to eat.

“No, just set in their ways and didn’t want trouble, Sir. They were in it for the money and couldn’t have a black mark on their record because it would be the third time they were investigated. Blaming me was the easiest thing all around. After that I went to a group home which was worse than all the foster homes put together. I used to get roughed up every day by the older and bigger boys.” Davey sniffled a little bit.

“You have to be the worst pickpocket in New York, so I wouldn’t try that again if I were you.” Jake leaned into Davey.
This kid is a submissive and he’s gorgeous. The subs can’t do better than this for me. Right now his back is against the wall. I’ve got leverage. Maybe I can get him to come to a short term agreement.
“I have a proposition for you. I’m a Dominant, looking for a submissive. You have the right personality type. Come live with me and work in my office directly under me. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to do so. I’ll pay your rent until Mr. Danvers returns. If you want to go back to him, you can. In the meantime, you work for me. You are gay, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir, but that doesn’t have anything to do with how good I am at my job. What I do in bed is my own business.”

“Don’t get on your high horse, I’m gay too.”

“Why do you want me to live with you?” Davey asked with trepidation. “…you won’t report me to the police for…you know.”

“I won’t report you. As far as why I want you to come and live with me, call it an audition, because you’ve got the personality of a submissive and I’m looking for one, secondly, because you have a stellar legal mind that I can use. We won’t be at a loss at what to talk about in the evening.” The waiter brought out the steaks and vegetables.

“If I do this, are you
sure
you won’t report me, even if I don’t work out?”

“I promise I won’t.” To Jake, Davey looked very small in the booth when he asked the next question.

“What’s a submissive, sir?”

“Tell you what—I belong to a club in New Jersey. We’ll get your clothing and essentials tonight and the rest tomorrow. You can move in with me for the next three months until Danvers comes back. I’ll take you to my office tomorrow and get your paperwork done and on Friday night, you’ll come to the club with me. You’ll see what a submissive is there.”

“You’ll pay the rent so I won’t lose the apartment? Harry would have my head. It’s rent stabilized.” Davey looked frightened as if he didn’t know which way to turn.

“Where do you live?” Jake spoke in a soothing tone. “Eat.”

To Jake’s satisfaction, Davey followed the order and began to eat his steak. He answered Jake’s question between bites.

“On Sixteenth Street between Seventh and Eighth Avenues, it’s an old building, a walk up. I’m in the third floor front apartment. It has two bedrooms, a living area, a dining area and a kitchen. I sublet from Harry, a guy I met in school. Harry has another place but kept the one on Sixteenth Street in case his boyfriend threw him out. I sublet it from him. I pay one thousand dollars a month.”

“What do you do if Harry’s boyfriend throws him out?” Jake asked in a silken voice.

“I guess I live with Harry for six months until I find my own place. That was our agreement, if he honors it.” Davey sighed. “If I don’t go with you, I’ll be out on my ear on the first. But what happens if I do go with you and can’t be a submissive?”

“You’ll still have a job with me at the law office and the opportunity to build up your savings again without having to worry about the rent. You’ll also have your apartment to go back to as long as Harry’s boyfriend keeps him.” Jake finished his steak and asked for coffee. Davey was content with his water. “Danvers is all right, but I’m the best. A reference letter from me will outweigh anything negative said about you from Blake and Simpson and when Danvers comes back, you can choose where you want to be employed.”

“Frankly, Mr. Cohen, I’m scared. I’ve never done anything like I did tonight in my entire life except when I thought I was playing with Kyle. The only thing I can do is go with you because I can’t know if you’ll report me once we leave here. I can’t be a paralegal with a police record.”

“I won’t report you…but you’re right, you can’t be sure of that. What you can be sure of is that you’ll have a roof over your head, a job, and a full stomach, plus an apartment to bolt to if you are unhappy that you threw your lot in with me. I’ll draw up a contract that will guarantee the rent on your apartment, a job with my firm as long as you desire one and room and board at my uptown condominium for three months with all expenses paid. If you decide to become my submissive, we’ll renegotiate the contract.”

“Where do you live, sir?”

“One Beacon Court at one-fifty-one East Fifty-Eighth Street between Lexington and Third— it’s a nice building, I have a four bedroom apartment, so you would have your own room. The apartment has four thousand square feet and all the amenities. There is a doorman, a concierge, a fitness club and a pool. It doesn’t have a balcony or views of the park but since I’m in New Jersey most weekends, it doesn’t matter. Are you finished with your food, boy?” Jake asked him roughly.

“Yes, sir.” Davey took a sip of water.

“Then I’m going to pay the bill and we’ll get out of here.” The waiter came over and Jake handed him a black American Express card. He noticed Davey’s eyes pop when he saw it. “My law firm does a good business, but I come from family money. I’m the last in the line of Cohens and unless I adopt or do a surrogacy, the line will die out with me. I’m looking for a relationship, but since I’m a Dom, I need a sub. I think you’d do nicely. I can see you are attracted to me, aren’t you?”

Davey blushed but didn’t lie. “Yes, sir.”

“Good, I’m physically attracted to you. I sense the submissive in you. I’m not in love with you and don’t know if I can be yet, but I think we’d rub along fairly well together after we get to know one another and I’d like to give it a try. We have love of the law in common, that’s more than most relationships have at the start.” The waiter came back and Jake signed the credit slip.

They got up, left the restaurant and walked to the car, Jake holding on to Davey’s arm.

“Why do you dismiss love, sir? I know it exists, I’ve seen it.”

“So have I. The Doms and subs at my club have been incredibly lucky. All of my friends have found love. I’ve played for years and still haven’t found the right one. I decided not to wait anymore and to settle for a sub that can be what I need and give me companionship and sex.” Jake remotely opened the doors of the Audi.

“And that would be me, sir?”

“Let’s just say you’re auditioning for the part. Come on, get in. We haven’t got all night. I’ll take you downtown and you can get clothes for work tomorrow and your toiletries. I’ll take some time off tomorrow afternoon and we can leave early on Friday for the club. We’ll deal with the rest of your things then. I’ll make a reservation at the Marriott in Princeton for Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights while we’re at the club.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jake chuckled. “You’ll do.”

He looked at Davey who stared back at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

CHAPTER TWO

They got into the Audi and drove over to Ninth Avenue where the traffic was lighter and it was easier to get downtown. They got off Ninth and got on Sixteenth Street, a one way street that happened to be going in the right direction. It didn’t take long for them to pull up to Davey’s building. Miraculously there was a parking spot right in front. Jake parked the car and opened the car door for Davey. He got out, holding his keys.

“I live on the third floor in the front apartment.” He opened the front entrance and checked for his mail in the mailboxes in the vestibule. He used his key to open the inner entry and Jake followed him upstairs.

§ § §

Following Davey, Jake walked into a long hall with a very dark bedroom on the right side that looked out over an air shaft. The hall turned into a dining room. The bathroom and kitchen were both off the dining room with the living room ahead of it and the second bedroom to the right.

The apartment was decorated in shades of black, grey and red. A black and white Japanese screen separated the dining and living areas. There was a futon couch covered in grey tweed with red throw pillows. Both front windows were at an angle to the façade so the front of the room looked like half of a hexagon.

While Davey was in the bathroom collecting his things, Jake looked around. On the wall there was a place where the paint was lighter. It was about the size of a thirty-seven inch screen. It must be where the television used to be. Directly under it was space for the non-existent stereo and cable box and DVR. Jake glanced up and saw some wires hanging out of the wall where there must have been speakers. So far, everything the kid told him checked out.