Jake's Thief (3 page)

He wasn’t going to go into the bedroom, but curiosity won out. It was painted the same grey as the rest of the apartment and had a bright red throw rug on the floor. The black duvet cover held a down comforter and the sheets and throw pillows matched the carpet. Black Roman shades completed the room. The bed was full-sized—the space wasn’t large enough for a queen. There was an armoire, a dresser and a black wicker blanket chest. Everything was as neat as a pin.

It looked as if Davey was very particular in the way he kept his home. There was a book on the nightstand, an old Tom Clancy spy thriller and he noticed that the bookshelves in the living room contained a variety of titles. He wandered back into the living room. There was space for a collection of DVDs and CDs but there were none to be seen—only the books remained. It seemed like the boy had cut himself down to the bare essentials. Davey came out of the bathroom and headed into the bedroom. Jake watched him pull a small lacquered wicker suitcase out of the bottom of the armoire.

While Davey packed, Jake decided to explore the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator door and saw nothing but a pitcher of cold water. It was empty, spotless, held no condiments, no milk, nothing. Jake nosed around the cabinets and found dishes, a set of four cups, saucers, plates and bowls. Next to those was a set of glassware, for six. In the drawer was a service for four of stainless along with some serving pieces. The second cabinet contained serving dishes. The pots were located on a rack over the sink with the utensils in a black urn on the counter. The third cabinet wasn’t empty. In it were numerous spices. It seemed his potential sub liked to cook. Jake wondered what Davey would do with the designer kitchen in his own apartment. As there was no Ramen, or any other signs of food in the house, Jake could finally see how the kid had become desperate enough to pull a stunt like he did tonight.

He must have made a decent salary at Danvers, Blake and Simpson because all of his things were of good quality, and it looked like he’d taken his time and saved for what he bought because the apartment appeared to be a work in progress.

Jake moved to the dining room and sat on one of the four leather and chrome sled chairs that surrounded a black lacquer table. Davey came out of the bedroom.

“Three years ago we had a particularly good year. Mr. Danvers won every case that went to trial and settled all the others in our client’s favor. He claimed that it was my legal briefs. As a result he gave me a very large bonus and I bought my television and the dining room set. The futon I’ve had since college. The rest of it went to savings—but at one thousand dollars a month for rent plus food and transportation, your savings go quickly. I also tapped out my 401K. I’m dead broke, Mr. Cohen, exactly as I explained.”

“You sure were telling the truth, kid. How did you keep you and this place so clean without money for cleaning products?”

“I have Ivory soap. I bought it in bulk at Costco, before I lost my job. I have a few bars left. I use it in the shower for my body and hair and I have a gallon bottle of vinegar, which I dilute and use with newspaper for the windows and the glass surfaces. Until three months ago, I still bought the New York Times on Sunday to look in the Help Wanted section. I used diluted vinegar, a drop of dish detergent and a mop for the floors and countertops. I made myself five gallons of laundry soap. I got the recipe from the internet at the library. Five gallons cost me less than two dollars. I did my clothes in the sink. I still have my ironing board and iron. So I was able to keep my clothes neat and pressed.” Davey took a rag and wiped the water droplets from a deep white enameled sink. “I bought four large bottles of Pledge just before I became unemployed that I got on special at Costco.”

“Where’s the closest Costco?”

“In Brooklyn, sir. I use an old holey T-shirt to dust. I have half a can left, the white vinegar, dish detergent, laundry detergent and bug spray.” Davey opened the door under the sink showing Jake the can of Pledge, a couple of bars of Ivory soap, a super-sized can of Raid, one gallon of vinegar, and two one gallon containers of what looked like soap on the shelf and a spray bottle, presumably for the vinegar solution.

“I hate a dirty house. I lived in too many dirty foster homes. If I keep my house clean and don’t leave food out, the roaches don’t come. I used to spray once a month. I saw one in the hallway so I bought spray last week and sprayed all of the perimeter and the openings for the radiator pipes. The thought of waking up with a roach in my hair frightens the hell out of me. It happened to me in one of the foster homes. It was headed for my ear.” Davey shivered with disgust.

“They spray my building once a month. I’ve never even seen a roach.” Jake chuckled.

While Jake chuckled, it seemed that Davey was dead serious. “Pray that you never do,” he said.

Davey started to pack while Jake stood over his shoulder and followed him around the apartment. Davey had exactly seven white oxford shirts, four ties, a cheap off the rack suit, a sports coat, two pair of Dockers, one pair of jeans, socks, thin undershirts, worn briefs, an old bathrobe and a pair of sneakers. That and what he had on was his complete wardrobe. He gathered a shaving brush and cup of shaving soap from the bathroom along with a razor that took old fashioned razor blades. Jake saw that he had three blades left.
God knows how long he used each blade before he got rid of them.

Everything the boy owned fit into that small suitcase. He had only his pots, stoneware and utensils in the kitchen, the futon, his dining room and bedroom furniture, left in the apartment. If he wanted to move out, he wouldn’t even need a pickup truck.

“What did you use the extra bedroom for?” Jake asked.

“I had my personal laptop and a desk in there until I sold them. The work laptop I had to give back when I was fired.” Tears were beginning to form at the corners of the kid’s eyes again but he held them back.

“Where are your coats, hat and gloves?” Davey went into the armoire and pulled out a down vest, with gloves and a hat hanging out of the pockets. A scarf was wrapped around the hanger. A second light jacket in navy blue rounded out Davey’s belongings along with the heavy sweater he was wearing.

“I’ll carry the coats, sir, they don’t fit in the suitcase.”

Jake shook his head. When the opportunity came to stick it to Blake and Simpson, he was going to be right there to do it. It was no wonder that Davey’s work was so meticulous— his home was too, this was a trait ingrained in his character like Cisco’s Greg.

Davey was still staring at him like he had the devil’s horns. He decided to put the kid’s mind at ease.

“I know you don’t know me and that you’re afraid. I’m going to call someone on the phone to vouch for me. He’s Dr. Greg Harris, a psychiatrist from New Jersey and a member of my club. You can speak to him, then you can Google him on my laptop once we get back to my place. He’s a submissive to Dr. Cisco de Loria, the Chief of Staff at St. Mary’s Medical Center in Trenton.”

Davey calmed and was a little less frantic after Jake mentioned Greg and nodded his head. Jake dialed Cisco.

“de Loria,” Cisco said.

“When are you going to learn to answer the phone like a human being, Cisco? A hello would be nice.”

“What do you want, Jake? I know you want something or you wouldn’t have called this late.”

“I’m thinking of bringing a boy down this weekend. We just met. I think he’s a submissive. I want him to go to the club with me and see if he can be. I’d like Greg to reassure him that I’m not a serial killer.”

Cisco chuckled. “Good thing you want him to speak to Greg and not to me.”

“Fuck you, Cisco.”

“I’ll get Greg.”

“Sir?” Greg said, apparently taking the phone from Cisco.

“I have a boy who I want to take to the club for the weekend to test him to see if he can be a submissive. Could you tell him that he’s not likely to wind up raped or dead in his bed?”

“Okay, Sir.”

Jake put the phone on speaker.

“Hello,” Davey said tentatively.

“Hi, I’m Greg Harris. I belong to Indiscreet, the club that Jake wants to take you to. I can assure you that nothing happens there unless you want it to happen. You can trust Jake implicitly.”

“But what if I’m not a submissive…”

“Isn’t that what the weekend is all about, finding out if you are or can be a sub?”

“Yes it is, but isn’t being a submissive all about beatings? I don’t like beatings. I took too many as a kid.”

“Every relationship is different. We have a couple who play only with rope bondage, he never even gets spanked. Remember, you’re just looking and you can trust Jake to be both honorable and to keep you safe from anyone else.”

“I guess you’re right. Thank you for your help, Dr. Harris.”

“No problem, I’ll see you this weekend, then.”

“I guess you will.”

Jake took the phone and clicked the end call button. “Are you satisfied about your personal safety?”

“Yes, sir.” Davey was antsy, moving the weight of his body from leg to leg.

“Let’s get you out of here.”

Jake picked up a few things and helped him carry them from the apartment. “Where do you pay the rent?”

“I give a check to Mrs. Darcy downstairs in two eighteen on the other side of the building. She lives in the front apartment on the first floor.”

“We’ll stop by and pay her four month’s rent in advance. That way you won’t have to worry about it. You can come back here once a week to dust, mop and spray, if you wish.” Jake saw a spark of something in Davey’s eyes which had been either teary or dull and lifeless since they met.

“Thank you. I really appreciate your generosity. I promise not to take advantage.” Davey’s eyes sparkled when he was happy and it seemed that cleaning made him happy.

Mrs. Darcy graciously accepted the check. “Will you be gone long, Davey?”

“I don’t know Mrs. Darcy, but I’ll be back once a week to clean and collect my mail.”

“That’s good—I don’t want to lose such a responsible tenant.” Mrs. Darcy said her good-byes and they went out into the night.

§ § §

Jake opened the trunk of the Audi and placed Davey’s suitcase and coats inside. They drove uptown in silence, arriving at Jake’s apartment building at ten. Davey couldn’t believe how his life’s direction had changed in less than three hours. Once they arrived at One Beacon Court, the doorman took Davey’s suitcase and coats and put them on a rack for the porter to take upstairs while the valet took Jake’s keys and the car.

Davey whispered to Jake, “Practically everything I own is in that suitcase. Can I take it and the coats up myself?” He blushed in embarrassment.

“Regis is the porter and has been here since the building opened. The doorman, Stanley has worked here just as long as Regis,” Jake said in an undertone, then louder, “Stan, Davey will be staying with me for the foreseeable future. He will need a key to the condo and a passkey to the pool and workout rooms.”

“Yes, Mr. Cohen, I’ll call the office.” Stanley made a note and put it on his desk. “You’ll have the keys by tomorrow morning and the passkeys for the amenities in your mailbox when you get home.”

The porter stood behind Jake and Davey waiting for them to go upstairs. Jake pushed the up button and once in the elevator, inserted a key card and pushed the button for the fifty-fifth floor. The elevator didn’t stop once on its way to the fifty-fifth.

As they exited the elevator, Jake took out his door keys. “There are only two apartments on this floor. Ours is the four-bedroom penthouse suite.”

Davey nodded his head, quickly grasping the importance of that statement. Jake’s condo was the best the building had to offer.

Regis brought in the suitcases. “Upstairs, second bedroom, across from the master suite,” Jake instructed. Regis went into the room and when he came out, Jake handed him a twenty dollar bill. Regis opened the door and went away as silently as he came.

“Your bedroom has a full bath attached. There is an empty dresser and closet for your clothing and a suit valet. I’m glad your shirts are ironed. I send mine out and I’ll send yours with them, you won’t have to pay for that but I don’t send them out until Friday. In fact, I don’t want you paying for anything while you’re here except to tip the doorman or Regis. Since you have no car, you won’t have to worry about the valet.”

“I’m overwhelmed. I don’t know what to say.” Davey began to fidget.

Jake placed his finger on the tip of Davey’s nose and said, “Thank you is enough. This relationship works both ways. I expect your work to be exemplary at the office and I expect you to follow my instructions to the letter at home. If you are ever in doubt, ask. I’m more likely to be angry if you screw up because you didn’t ask than if you do.

“I know you know next to nothing about being a submissive. Before you go to bed tonight, I want you to look up BDSM on the internet. Some of what you see will make you squeamish. But I want you to remember that not all BDSM relationships are alike. Not everyone is into giving out pain. As far as what I do, I’ll tell you more when we get there. Leave the rest of your things on the chair. I’ll leave a note to my housekeeper to put them away tomorrow morning.” Jake turned to leave the room. Davey stopped him.

“You don’t need the housekeeper, sir. I can clean,” Davey said, wanting to be able to do something useful.

“Do you cook?” Jake brought Davey into the kitchen. Davey looked around. It was a cook’s dream.

“Yes, sir, I cook. I didn’t bring any of my cookbooks but I can run downtown and get them after work,” Davey offered.

“No, we’ll go to Barnes and Noble tomorrow and buy copies of everything you need and have them delivered. I’ll get you put on my card. I don’t want you trying to carry a load of books on the subway. It’s an invitation to be mugged. You can cook dinner for the two of us. I expect to eat by eight every night unless we work late, then we’ll order in. Do you need anything before we go to bed? I’ll bring my personal laptop in here so you can do your research. But only for one hour, I want you rested for tomorrow.”