Love in La Terraza (16 page)

“No dear,” Eddie said, looking particularly sad all of a sudden. “He’s selling it before he loses it…and Henry in the process.”

Matt began massaging Eddie’s shoulders, as if he’d been able to sense his other half was upset.

“It’s silly, I guess,” Eddie sighed, getting a bit misty-eyed. “I love this place so much, and you guys have become like my family. It’ll be so odd not running into each of you on a daily basis.”

That pushed Cain over the edge. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry I’ve let everyone down.”

“Stop that, both of you,” Matt said, seeing Nic well up as Stu hugged her from behind. “You’re being silly.”

Cain was slightly taken back.

“Where we sleep doesn’t dictate our lives,” Matt continued. “Nothing will change unless we allow it to. Living within these walls doesn’t offer us anything other than convenience. We can still meet at Sully’s every Friday for Happy Hour. We can still get together to share a meal and catch up with one another’s day.”

Cain nodded. “I certainly hope so.”

“You’ve done the best you could, Cain,” Stu said, rubbing Nic’s arms to comfort her. “We all know how hard you’ve fought.”

“I just don’t want everyone to be mad at me,” Cain sighed. “Don’t know what’s going to happen to Vito and Tony…and Ruth? Grams would be so ashamed of me. She trusted me.”

“She recognized no one else would fight as hard to keep this place going,” Matt said, pointing out the difference. “Anyone else would have already sold the place. But now, it’s time for you to start thinking about Cain and stop fretting over the rest of us and your grandmother.”

“Sure, I mean, we can all help the geriatric set get situated somewhere else,” Stu said.

Nic nodded, though she didn’t seem all that convinced herself. “Gladdie wouldn’t want you to keep La Terraza if it meant losing the guy you love.”

“I’d appreciate if you could all keep this to yourselves so I can tell everyone together tomorrow night.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“I’m heading down to Henry’s office this morning to sign the papers. I’ll do everything I can to push back the sale date to give everyone as much time as possible.”

“Sure, of course,” Eddie said, pointing back toward the door. “Guess we’ll all leave you to get ready.”

“I’m really sorry everyone,” Cain said. “I promise you I couldn’t feel any worse.”

They all jumped in shushing and scolding him as they each hugged him and left, giving him pats of reassurance that did nothing to alleviate his anxiety.

* * * *

Taking a deep breath, Cain pulled on the heavy glass door that led into the inner-sanctum of the very devil who’d been riding his ass for well over a year now. It certainly didn’t feel good, straggling in here with his tail between his legs to do the one thing he’d sworn to never do.

As he stepped inside, Cain wasn’t the least bit surprised by the slick interiors of glass, chrome and pitch-black, shiny slate tile. Even the black plastic chairs and leather sofas in the small waiting area seemed to gleam.

“Good morning, Mr. Elliott,” an older woman said, leaning over the shoulder of the younger receptionist, who seemed less than pleased over having her personal space invaded.

“Good morning, Hamilton-Bach, how may I direct your call?” the receptionist said after tapping her earpiece.

“You know who I am?” Cain asked the older lady, suspiciously.

“I’m Mr. Bach’s personal assistant,” she said, warmly. “I make it my business to know everyone of interest to the company.”

Cain got a chill up his spine, despite the tone that was obviously meant to put him at ease.

“I’d like to see Mr. Abrams, please,” Cain said.

The receptionist started to open her mouth, but the other lady grabbed her by the shoulder, cutting her off. “Of course, though…perhaps I can show you to one of our conference rooms while you’re waiting.”

Cain shrugged. “Sure, whatever. I just need to speak Henry, please. It’s very important.”

“Right this way.” She smiled, taking Cain by the arm when he came around the desk and ushering him down a long hallway before showing him into a conference room. “Would you care for coffee, juice, a water or soda?”

“Huh?” Cain asked, shaking the fuzziness out of his head. “No…I mean, sure, coffee would be fine.”

She nodded and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Cain couldn’t for the life of him figure out why she’d bothered. The walls were nothing but large panes of glass, so it wasn’t as if there were anywhere to hide from prying eyes. He hoped Henry wouldn’t send him away, but looking out across the office, Cain knew that whatever did happen, there would be an audience.

He flopped down into one of the leather chairs and said a silent prayer that it wasn’t too late, that he hadn’t screwed up the best thing that had ever happened to him by choosing brick and mortar and stone over the one man who had loved him for exactly who he was.

Cain took a deep breath, feeling panic begin to rise. He placed a hand on the long, boardroom-style table for balance, his head spinning just a bit.

It wasn’t too late, couldn’t possibly be.

He was here after all, ready to sacrifice everything to be with Henry.

Turning when he heard the door opening, Cain frowned slightly as an older gentleman came into the room. His heart caught in his throat, thinking perhaps Henry refused to even meet with him.

“Good morning, Mr. Elliott,” the old man said, extending a hand which Cain didn’t bother to take. “Yes, well, I’m Franklin Bach, son, an old friend of your grandmother.”

Cain said nothing. Gladdie had certainly never made mention of this man so he seriously doubted the validity of that last bit.

“Look, Mr. Bach,” Cain said, frustrated when the man came over to the table and took a seat. “Can you please tell Henry I’m here to sell? I’ll sign whatever papers he wants, but I have to see him.”

“That’s wonderful news, Mr. Elliott!” Franklin said. “I’m sure Henry will be pleased to hear it, though I’m afraid he’s stepped out at the moment.”

“Oh.” Cain stared down at the table.

“Of course, he
could
walk through those doors any time now,” Franklin said. “If you’d like, I’d be happy to walk you through the contracts while you’re waiting. Get that part out of the way now. Then perhaps you and he can go celebrate.”

It was the last thing Cain wanted to do, and there was something off-putting about the old man, something that made Cain feel uneasy. He sighed, nodding his head. The sooner it was done the sooner he and Henry could talk…alone.

“Excellent!” Franklin stood. “I’ll go grab the contract.”

They both turned when the door opened again, and another lady came stumbling through the door with a tray that held a thermos of coffee and the usual accoutrements. Mr. Bach sat back down.

The lady smiled while Bach eyed her closely as she approached the table. She stumbled again, dropping the tray onto the table with a loud crash and sending the pitcher of hot coffee, creamer, cups and spoons flying across the table.

“My goodness!” Bach screamed.

Cain reacted quickly, springing up to grab hold of her and managing to keep her upright.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped, near breathless and fidgeting as she took Cain by the hand and thanked him profusely all the while apologizing.

“Would you please stop blathering on and go get something to clean this mess up?” Bach screamed, absolutely furious.

“It’s fine, really.” Cain smiled at her in an attempt to put her at ease before glaring at Bach. “It was an accident. No harm done.”

Somehow, he feared the chick would be looking for a new job by day’s end.

“Of course, just an accident,” Bach said, his temper still evident, though he was making an attempt.

“I’ll be right back with some towels.” She was still shaking his hand, but Cain felt something else as she folded his hand over into a fist, passing him something she apparently didn’t want her employer to see.

“See that you do, Anna,” Bach said, shaking his head and waiting until she left.

“You were going to go get those contracts?” Cain reminded him, taking a seat and doing his best to act natural.

“What? Oh…yes…” Bach glanced back at the door, as if he were afraid to leave Cain alone.

“I don’t actually have all day, Mr. Bach.” Cain pointed toward the clock on the wall. “I have another appointment in about an hour, though I suppose I could just come back after…”

“No, please, have a seat, Mr. Elliott,” Bach said, already heading for the door. “I’ll be right back. Shouldn’t take us long to get through the finer points of the contract.”

Waiting until the man had exited the room and disappeared from sight, Cain opened his hand to find a folded piece of paper. He quickly opened it, sighing when he realized it was upside down.

Finally able to make out what appeared to be someone’s hastily scribbled handwriting, he read:
Henry quit. Don’t sign shit!

Cain’s mouth fell open in shock, which didn’t last for long. He was up and out of that room as fast as his feet would carry him, without breaking into a run. He couldn’t help but notice the faint smile on the receptionist’s face as he breezed past her on his way out the front door, as if she were happy Cain had managed to escape with his soul intact. He’d made it all the way to the parking lot before remembering he hadn’t driven.

At the time, it had seemed like a good idea to walk. It gave him time to collect his thoughts and practice what he wanted to say. Now, he cursed himself as he hightailed it toward the sidewalk, unable to put enough distance between himself and that godforsaken company.

Cain felt his pockets for his cell, only to realize he must have left it back at the apartment. He tried his best not to panic, thinking Henry had quit because he intended to go back to Atlanta, a thought that made him so sick to his stomach he actually thought he might puke for a moment.

Panic finally took hold of his limbs, and he started to run, looking all around for a payphone, seeing nothing and realizing he didn’t know Henry’s phone number by heart even if he did stumble across one.

The faster he ran the more terrified he became.

Hope that everything might turn out okay began to feel thin, and for the very first time, Cain allowed the thought to creep inside that he really was too late.

Henry could already be gone, and Cain might never get the chance to tell him how much he loved him, might never get the opportunity to prove that he believed Henry to be worth any sacrifice, to explain that any life without him wasn’t one Cain wished to suffer living.

Desperation was now the only fuel feeding his fire to move as fast as his feet would carry him.

“I’ll run all the way to Georgia if I have to,” Cain whispered through his huffing and puffing. “Whatever it takes, I won’t ever give up on us again.”

* * * *

Sitting on the stoop outside Cain’s apartment, Henry was more nervous that he could ever remember being.

More nervous than he had been telling his parents he was gay.

More nervous than he had been walking into a gay bar for the very first time.

More nervous than he’d been the first time he’d made love to another man.

All he could do now was wait and pray that it wasn’t too late, that he hadn’t fucked around being a dick head and ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He felt eyes on him, all peering out of their windows at the evil asshole who was attempting to ruin their happy home. It wasn’t fair, because Henry had never wanted that. He loved this place, loved La Terraza as much as any of the rest of them.

It had brought him everything.

The most happiness he’d ever known had come during the time he’d spent inside these walls, but he couldn’t deny there had been a part of him that wanted Cain to sell.

A very selfish part at that. Cain hadn’t been wrong about that much.

He had also offered to sacrifice all of that in order to help Cain keep La Terraza, as well, so while he was guilty on some level, Henry’s feelings for Cain were stronger. His love of this building, which had been so beautifully and meticulously designed by one his heroes had outweighed his own greed and desire to leave his own mark on this world.

That had to count for something!

The only real question was what Cain would do about it. Henry had packed all his bags, which sat all around him on the stoop to Cain’s apartment. If he were asked to leave this place today, he’d go straight to his car and head south, back down to Georgia. No way could he stay here and run into Cain. If he couldn’t have him for his own, Henry didn’t ever want to see the man again.

Henry was willing to tell him all of that and more, before he asked the one question he’d been too afraid to ask before. Why had Cain really turned down Henry’s offer to help him save La Terraza?

It was the only answer that mattered to him now, yet he was terrified to hear it.

In the back of his mind lived the fear that Cain didn’t love him as much as Henry did him. If that were the real reason, Henry had to know. It would break him in two, but better to know now than a year down the road.