Legal Artistry (26 page)

They lay together in a heap, breathing deeply, holding onto each other as though they both needed reassurance that they could find their way back. “Oh God,” Dieter squeaked between breaths as their bodies separated.

"I know,” Gerald responded through the fog that still clouded his mind. He didn't dare open his eyes or this amazingly ethereal feeling would evaporate like the morning fog, so he held his lover, listening to him breathe without moving or caring if they ever moved again.

"Love you,” Dieter whispered, and Gerald made some sort of sound back, not having enough energy or ambition to actually form words. Instead, he simply held Dieter, and this time it was his turn to close his eyes and let his mind go. How long they lay together, Gerald didn't know, but eventually he felt Dieter shift and slip away. Then a warm cloth caressed his skin, followed by a soft towel, and then Dieter's warmth returned. “Can I ask you a question?” Dieter inquired, and Gerald smiled, snuggling close without opening his eyes.

"You can ask anything you want. Except maybe ask me to move."

"I saw you in court today, and it looked like we won.” Gerald could hear the hope in Dieter's voice.

"All I did was stop the defendant's motions. We really didn't win anything.” Gerald let his eyes slide open so he could see Dieter's face. “There's still a long way to go, but I think the judge is intrigued by our argument and wants to let it play out. It doesn't mean we'll win, but it's encouraging that our argument isn't being rejected out of hand. The good news is that the judge set an early court date, and the best news is that the non-Pirktl paintings are being prepared for shipment.” Gerald rolled onto his side, running his hands over Dieter's chest. “Angus said he'd call the office when they were ready to be shipped.” Gerald snickered softly. “I don't think the Belvedere knew what hit them when Interpol came calling."

"So what happens next?” Dieter asked, his eyes widening expectantly.

"Well, I decide what I want to do with my house, and we figure out when you want me to move in with you. We keep a lookout for your paintings, and I'll be ready for court. I've already sent the judge the information he asked for. So other than that, we wait and go on with our lives.” Gerald shifted so Dieter was beneath him. “And we love each other and make each other happy.” Damn, he could not get enough of this man. “From now on, things will happen in the court's time, and it's out of our hands, but we can make the most of the time,” Gerald quipped lightly.

"I like the sound of that,” Dieter told him and started wriggling under him. “I guess I can wait as long as I have you to wait with me."

"That you do.” Gerald gathered Dieter into his arms, hugging him tightly as he smiled to beat the band.

"There is one thing, though,” Dieter said seriously.

"What's that?” Gerald felt some of the ease slip away.

"In case you didn't see it in court, I know you think this is just a case for your brother, but it's not,” Dieter said, and Gerald released his hug, looking into his lover's eyes. “I saw the way he was looking at you when you and Brian were talking. He hates you. It was as naked on his face as I am right now. He doesn't see this as a game, and it's not just another case for him. Your brother hates you with everything he has, and I feel guilty."

"Don't,” Gerald countered. “My brother hating me is not your fault, and I'm not going to lose a case to make him like me. It's my job to do my best, and he's the one who's taking this personally.” Gerald slid off the bed and began pacing the floor. “Angus was always a bully, and Dad sort of encouraged him because he thought it made Angus strong. And as a lawyer, he's still a bully. He intimidates opposing attorneys and their clients basically into giving up. You saw the way he acted in our first meeting. That wasn't for me—that little act was to try to intimidate you, but it didn't work. And like most bullies, he does not like it when people stand up to them."

"But he's your brother."

"Yes, he is. But I'll let you in on a secret. I've never liked him very much, even when we were kids, so if he hates me, he hates me. That's his problem. Not mine and certainly not yours.” Gerald stopped pacing and looked at Dieter, who'd propped himself up on his elbows, watching him. “Angus is just another attorney as far as I'm concerned."

Dieter moved back onto the bed. “When I was a kid, I would have given anything to have had a brother.” Dieter drew his knees close, wrapping his arms around them.

"I know,” Gerald said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “And I had a great sister. I wish I could tell you that I had a great childhood, but I really didn't. My dad constantly pushed all of us to be better, faster, stronger than the other kids. It didn't matter what it was, we had to be the best, and since I was one of the youngest, I seemed to get it from my older brothers and sister as well. Thankfully I had Mary and Mom.” Gerald shook his head. “Talk about dysfunctional.” Gerald moved so he was sitting next to Dieter. “Not all families are what we'd like, and sometimes they're what you overcome, but they helped make me who I am."

Dieter smiled at him. “Then I guess I can't really complain, because I like who you are."

"Me too, and you know what? I like you.” Gerald hugged Dieter close once again. “But I think we'd better get something to eat before my stomach thinks I forgot all about it."

"Yeah, I guess we'd better,” Dieter said, getting up off the bed before rummaging in one of his drawers, that perfect little butt on perfect view. Finding what he was looking for, Dieter pulled on a pair of sweatpants and offered Gerald a pair before they headed downstairs to the kitchen to finish making dinner, with Gerald moving a little gingerly and Dieter snickering at him when he jumped a little before sitting on one of the wooden chairs. For him, it didn't get much better than this.

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Dieter peered out the front window once again before returning to his work. Today was moving day, and he was waiting for the movers to deliver Gerald's things. Gerald had spent much of the morning at his place, directing the movers, while Dieter had spent the time making sure there was a place for the things Gerald was bringing. Gerald had decided to sell his house, and one of his neighbors who had been renting bought the house almost as soon as it went on the market. Gerald's closing was in a few days, and tonight they would officially spend their first night together in their home. Thankfully, Gerald wasn't a pack rat, and they had sat down and already planned where everything was going to go, so all they really had to do was direct the movers and then unpack the boxes. Dieter's phone chirped in his pocket, and he smiled when he heard Gerald's ringtone.

"Are you on your way over?” He was more than a little excited.

"The movers just left, but I got called into the office. Hopefully it won't take long, and I'll be home as soon as I can. I'm really sorry about this. I hate dumping all this work on you."

"I know. I'll be fine alone here with the hunky movers,” Dieter teased, and Gerald scoffed before laughing.

"I'll see you as soon as I can. Love you,” Gerald said before disconnecting the call, and Dieter went back to work, adjusting his game plan. A knock on the front door pulled him away from his work, and he opened it, expecting the movers, but smiled when he saw Mark with his small dog on a leash.

"I heard today was Gerald's moving day, and we stopped by to see if you needed any help,” Mark said.

"Come on in. I could use all the help I can get,” Dieter said, and Mark stepped inside, letting Jolie off her leash. She immediately began jumping around Dieter's legs, and he lifted her up, his chin immediately covered with doggie kisses. “Gerald got called into the office,” Dieter explained as he heard the sound of brakes out front. Opening the doors, he saw the moving truck pull up in front of the house.

"You direct where you want things, and I'll help place the furniture and items, but first I'm going to take her home,” Mark told him as he took Jolie from his arms before heading toward the house up the street.

Dieter met the movers and walked them through the house. By the time Mark returned, the men were already bringing things into the house. Peering into the truck, Dieter was surprised how little there was. Granted, a number of easily portable things had already been brought over. Dieter told the men where to place the furniture, and when Mark returned, they began opening boxes while the rest of the things were brought in. A little over an hour later, the men were done, and Dieter said good-bye after signing what they needed. As they pulled away, Gerald pulled up and parked in front of the house, followed almost immediately by another truck.

"What's all this?” Dieter asked as Gerald stepped out of his car.

"The reason I got called into the office. It seems that this particular truck contains fourteen crates. They sent them to my office."

"Fourteen crates?” Dieter asked, wondering just what was going on.

Gerald bounded toward him with a huge grin. “They're your paintings. They sent them to my office, and I redirected them here. They sent the paintings and the frames separately. There's also a letter with instructions for unpacking them, and it details which painting goes with which frame.” Gerald handed him an envelope before hugging him tight, lifting him off the ground. “I know this isn't your great-grandmother's portrait, but it's a start, and I also found out today that your day in court begins on Monday.” Gerald set his feet back on the ground before kissing him hard.

"Oh, hey, Mark,” Gerald said with a smile as Mark joined them. “I think we may need your help. Some of Dieter's paintings arrived from Vienna, and even though they sent instructions....” Gerald looked at him and Dieter nodded. “We don't feel as though we know enough to unpack them."

"Let me make a phone call. I have a friend who knows everything about things like this."

"Where would you like them?” one of the delivery men from the truck asked in a deep voice.

"We can put them in the living room for now,” Dieter replied before asking the man to follow him. After showing him where to place the crates and placing blankets on the floors to protect them, he got out of the way as the two men carried each of the wooden crates inside. Once they were done, Dieter signed what they needed and thanked them both before heading inside. To say the house was a mess was an understatement. There wasn't a single room that didn't have boxes packed against the walls or furniture waiting to be placed.

"Where do we start?” Gerald asked him, and Dieter shrugged his shoulders. “How about if I start in the dining room and you work on the kitchen? We can't do much with the living room until we figure out what to do with the paintings, and they're safest in their crates for now."

"Okay,” Dieter agreed. “Did you see where Mark went?"

"Last I saw him, he was still outside talking on the phone.” The front door opened and Mark stepped inside. “Speak of the devil. Would you like to join us for lunch?"

"I can't. I have an appointment at the studio in half an hour, but I wanted to tell you that I'll stop back about four and meet Peter. He's my agent as well as the owner of the Peter Barrett Gallery. He said he can help get the art unpacked. I told him about the works, and he's really intrigued."

"Perfect. We'll see you then, and plan on dinner. It's the least we can do for all your help,” Gerald said as he shook Mark's hand, only to be pulled into a hug. Mark hugged Dieter as well and then hurried out the door.

"I'll make some lunch if you want to get started,” Dieter told Gerald before walking into the kitchen. There wasn't a great deal to put away in here. Gerald had donated a lot of his kitchen things to charity, so there were only five or six boxes that needed to be put away—mostly small appliances and stuff like that. Dieter found the bread and began pulling things out of the refrigerator, making thick sandwiches. Carrying the plates into the dining room, he returned for cans of Coke before joining Gerald around their table. “It's looking better already,” Dieter said after they'd sat down. Gerald had placed a lot of the furniture, even around the crates, and had emptied some of the boxes.

"It shouldn't take very long. I didn't move that much stuff, and I've already hauled a few of the boxes I don't need right now to the attic.” Gerald took a bite of his sandwich, smiling.

"I can't believe you're here,” Dieter said, and he felt Gerald take his hand.

"I am here, and I'm glad we decided to live here. This is a great house and now it's home.” Gerald squeezed Dieter's hand. They finished eating, quietly looking at one another and then around their home. Dieter could barely sit still he was so excited. After finishing their lunch, they both went back to work, unpacking the boxes and getting their home in order. Together they'd already cleaned out the last things from Gram's and Auntie Kate's rooms. It had been hard for Dieter, but necessary. Dieter finished in the kitchen before climbing the stairs to get their bedroom in order. They had decided to set up one of the smaller bedrooms as an office, and the movers had set all of Gerald's things in that room. Closing the door, Dieter left it alone so Gerald could set it up the way he wanted.

Late in the afternoon, they'd accomplished a lot and were taking a break together on the sofa when the doorbell rang. Dieter got up to answer it and found Mark on the doorstep with an older-looking gentleman. “Dieter, this is Peter Barrett,” Mark said, and Dieter stepped back so they could come inside. “He's probably one of the best people around to get your paintings unpacked and back in their frames.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both,” Peter said, shaking hands with both Dieter and Gerald, who'd joined them, before looking around. “This is very nice.” Dieter saw when his eyes fell on the crates. “Let's see what you have. Can we use the floor here in the hall? It looks like there's more room."

"I'll get some blankets,” Dieter said, and he hurried upstairs. When he returned, he spread one of Gram's old cotton blankets on the floor, and Gerald and Mark hefted in the first crate. “The letter says that crates one and two go together. One has the painting and two contains the frame."