The Honeymoon Gambit (Catalina Dreams Book 2), page 4
“I looked it up,” Todd said, yawning. “I looked up a bunch of Korean words because I thought it would make it more convincing, you know? But I wouldn’t count on me for that. And the cookies, I don’t know. You mentioned it once. It’s not like you talk about stuff like that often. When you do, I guess it sticks.”
“Well... all right.” Eric shifted from foot to foot and Todd watched him, slightly concerned. He was never so restless. The guy was the most emotionally constipated person Todd had ever met. “That was very thorough. I appreciate it. Can I ask you something?”
Todd grabbed his squishy stress ball shaped like a Jigglypuff and clenched it in his fist. “Yes?”
“Have you ever solved this?” Eric picked the Rubik’s cube up off the shelf. “It’s not solved now. How do you just leave it here unsolved? That would put me on edge.”
“I play with it sometimes,” Todd said. He watched Eric twist the cube one way and another, his expression softening. “Um. Just take it.”
“Hmm?” Eric blinked at him. “No no. I had one as a kid. I lost it at school one day before I could solve it.”
Cute, Todd thought against his will. Horribly and endlessly adorable. Eric turned into a small boy with a toy before his eyes, the corner of his usually tight line of a mouth turning up as he played with the cube.
“Take it,” Todd said softly. “Please. It’s not like it’s irreplaceable. I bought it on a whim at the mall one day.”
He could tell Eric wanted to argue, his little smile twisting up and relaxing again. Finally, he said, “All right. Thank you.” His eyes stayed glued to the cube as he made his way out and Todd watched him, fascinated, squeezing the Jigglypuff in his hand.
“See you tomorrow then,” Eric said as he made his way out. “Text me if you have any more questions.”
“Sure,” Todd said.
He thought he heard Eric chuckle as he left.
But that was impossible because Eric never laughed.
“Putnam!”
It was six o’clock in the morning.
Todd marched into his roommate's room and shook his leg under the blankets. He was showered and dressed. He’d styled his newly cut hair so well, it was like looking at a stranger in the mirror. He had done exactly what the stylist had suggested. The effect was… not bad. He’d never been the hottest guy in any room. But the shorter hair made his hazel eyes stand out and accentuated his jaw line.
“Putty, wake up! C’mon!” He shook Putnam’s socked foot where it stuck out from under his blanket. Putnam groaned in response and rolled over on his stomach.
He had spent some time on his pitch, as well as his Boyfriend Persona. He’d whipped up most of the presentation already during the last two (mostly sleepless) nights.
Gigi Entertainment... for a new world.
It was a little vague, but he had the basic themes down and a video presentation he was sure would enchant Jordan and Alphonso.
He always did better when he didn’t overthink, but let inspiration and imagination do its work in the background of his subconscious until it all spontaneously poured out... hopefully before the project’s deadline. So far, the strategy had served him well with only the occasional catastrophe.
“PUTNAM!”
“Whaaaaaaat?” Putnam rolled back over and opened one eye. He sat up in bed, bracing himself on his elbows. He slept in the nude. The vision of Putnam with his obnoxiously perfect body, naked in the bed, his sheets down around his hips, should have been enticing. On some objective level, it was. But Putnam was just Putnam, and Todd envied his abs more than he wished to lick them. “Your hair,” Putnam said.
“What do you think?” Todd said.
Putnam had come home late the night before from playing beer pong or eating tapas or whatever it was straight people did. His opinion was usually worthless by Todd’s measure.
But he was leaving for Catalina in an hour. He would take what he could get, and he was direly hoping for some reassurance.
To his credit, Putnam rubbed his eyes and shook his head, forcing himself into the waking world. He blinked at Todd, who had changed into his Catalina Fake Relationship Day 1 Outfit: a patterned button-up and navy pants with sneakers. It was casual, but not too casual.
“Hair looks really good,” Putnam declared. “I think you could wear a slimmer fit than that in the pants if you wanted too. It would look better. But that’s not bad. There are parrots on your shirt.”
“Yes,” Todd said darkly.
“It’s kinda eighties looking,” Putnam said. “The pastels. No, okay. It looks good. You look good, man. Am I done here? This is as gay as I get. I’m sorry.”
“Straight people,” Todd muttered. “Thanks for the help. Go back to sleep. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“I hope you get dick,” Putnam said, before crawling back under the covers.
“You’re a good ally,” Todd said. “Sweet dreams.”
He shut the door behind him and took a breath.
Around two o’clock in the morning, according to the email time stamp, Eric had sent him a “sample script” of how they might “accidentally” slip that they were dating to the Gigis (as Todd and Eric referred to them). They planned to let it come out on the boat. Eric suggested that Todd call him “sweetheart.”
Todd had sat staring at the script for a few minutes, wondering if Eric secretly wanted to be called “sweetheart,” if not by him than by somebody. It seemed so unEric-like. But it was probably nothing to do with his own preferences. Todd told himself he shouldn’t read into it.
The plan was for everyone to meet up in the lobby of the Jackson & Larrabee offices and take shared rides to the marina in Long Beach. Todd scrambled to pack up the last few odds and ends before his Lyft arrived. He had never been the most punctual person in the world. He was already running late.
“Oh, sweetheart, can you get me a club soda, please?” He said the line to himself for the fiftieth time or so as he sat in the back of a Prius. It did not sound right to his ears. He sounded like a sleazy guy talking to a waitress, not a man talking to his boyfriend. “This is bonkers.”
The Lyft dropped him off in front of their building in downtown Century City and the driver helped him unload his carry-on sized suitcase and his messenger bag. Todd sighed heavily as he rolled into the building’s massive lobby with its marble flowers and chandeliers.
Todd blinked, nearly tripping on the seam between floor tiles when he saw Eric waiting, a suitcase twice the size of Todd’s by his side. Eric wore white slim-fit pants, and a salmon-colored button-up neatly tucked in. The short sleeves accentuated his biceps. His hair was just tousled enough to look casual, which probably meant that Eric had spent a crazy amount of time on it.
Todd had seen Eric in suits and gym clothes and nothing in between. Even on casual Friday, at most he would skip a tie. If it was warm, he might take off his jacket. But white pants? Salmon? Short sleeves?
Eric turned on his heel, finally noticing him. “You cut your hair,” he said flatly. He was staring. Todd searched out a telling micro expression but couldn’t read the twitch of Eric’s mouth or the slight flash in his eyes as he looked Todd up and down.
“Yeah, I cut my hair.” Todd walked up to him, the roll of his suitcase wheels echoing like thunder along the tile floor as it bumped along. “It was your guy. You sent me there, genius.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Eric said. “No, I know. But you just... look different. Hmm. I guess I was really used to the long hair.” He looked bothered about it and Todd rolled his eyes.
You just couldn’t win with Eric sometimes.
5
Eric
Eric stood in the middle of the sprawling lobby with its shiny marble floors and stared at Todd Ellis for what was probably an inappropriate amount of time.
He had not considered what Todd would look like with a haircut. Todd had worn his hair long since Eric had known him. The new style accentuated his jawline and his bright hazel eyes seemed even brighter; laughing and warm.
Improbably, Eric missed the old haircut. It was also strange to see Todd looking so fashionable. His shirt was on trend, though his pants could stand to be a little slimmer. But he looked good.
Still... he didn’t seem quite like Todd. Todd wore faded band shirts or quirky graphic tees with blazers right out of 1992. Todd wore corduroys and old faded button-ups. Eric couldn’t remember Todd ever wearing a suit, even at formal pitch meetings meant to impress clients. But he was considered the best of the creative department and his offbeat decision-making was put down to “creative genius.”
This new Todd wasn’t really Todd. Eric couldn’t figure out why that was bad. He forced himself to look away, whipping out his phone, and pretending to check his email.
“Boys!” Stackler’s echoing bellow in the cathedral of a lobby made Eric wince, and he pocketed his phone again. “How we doin’? You guys excited? Be excited! It’s Catalina time!”
Paul Stackler was the wild card of this whole gambit, Eric and Todd had decided. If they let their “relationship” slip in front of Jordan and Alphonso, it would eventually get back to Stackler. How he would react was anybody’s guess. Todd claimed he didn’t expect much more than teasing. It was unlikely, Todd had said, that Stackler would guess the whole couple thing was just a ploy to woo the client. He wasn’t worried.
Eric was worried.
“Paul,” Eric said. He nodded stiffly and stood close to Todd, as if seeking his solidarity. It was the two of them against Stackler. There was something comforting about that.
“I am psyched, boys,” Stackler said, laughing. “This is gonna be a fight to the finish, eh? I mean, I hope you know that. Every man for himself. Nothing personal, you understand.” He winked at Eric.
Eric drew himself up, willing himself taller. Paul Stackler had a few inches on him, some muscle mass, and several years. He was forty-five, but he was in his prime. He was the kind of handsome reserved for old-fashioned comic book heroes with a lantern jaw and a perfect face to go with it. He wore Bermuda shorts and a crisp white button-up as if it were a tuxedo.
He was also one of the biggest assholes Eric had ever met.
Of course, he’d managed to horn in on the trip.
“I appreciate your sense of competition,” Eric said. “But you won’t be stealing Gigi away, I’m sorry to tell you. I know Jordan. We’re... friends. But I do hope you enjoy the vacation.”
“Huh.” Stackler tapped his chin, putting on a show of deep thought. “You’re friends? That’s funny. Because I brought them in. I don’t know if you’re such good pals as you think you are, Yoo.”
Eric winced. Stackler had a habit of saying his last name as if it was inherently funny. It was far too reminiscent of the playground taunts he’d suffered all the way through school.
Todd heaved a sigh next to him. He threw his head back and said, “Oh my God, dude. Can’t you just like do your fucking job without being a dick? Like why is that required? Just be a person. It’s tedious. You’re so... ugh.”
“That’s a nice haircut, Ellis,” Stackler said. “You almost look like a real boy.” He coughed into his fist and said, “Pussy.”
Eric felt a surge of anger and stepped forward, but Todd was only laughing. “What, seriously? Aren’t you like fifty? Grow up.”
Stackler grinned and stepped into Todd’s space, so close that Eric felt the urge to step between them. He put it down to playing the Boyfriend Role. “I’m in my prime, baby,” Stackler said, his voice as smooth as silk. “See, you two boys are still shiny and new. But I got the goods long term. That’s why Rodwell told me I’m making partner next year. Name right on the front door. Jackson, Larrabee & Stackler. How’s that grab you two cucks, huh?”
Todd sputtered to respond when a man in a black suit stepped thru the front doors. He bowed and gestured towards the street.
“Mr. Ellis? Mr. Yoo? Mr. Stackler?” The man said. “Your car to the marina is waiting. My name is Bennett. I’ll be your driver.”
Eric had counted on sharing a car alone with Todd so they could talk freely. Instead, he was trapped in a limo with Stackler, of all people, taking a loud call from his assistant as Eric and Todd sat across from him. They eyed each other nervously as they fooled around on their phones.
“I thought they were going to meet us at the office,” Todd said. He spoke low in Eric’s ear, as if just that was a huge secret.
“I did too,” Eric said. “But they’re pretty laid back about stuff like this. From what I can tell, anyway.”
“What’re you too cucks yapping about?” Stackler said, nodding at them.
Ugh.
“We’re talking about you overcompensating for your tiny balls,” Todd said. “I figure they have to be about peanut size considering what a douche you are. Eric says they’re smaller.”
“Giant. Brass. Balls.” He wagged his tongue at them and into the phone he said, “Okay, babydoll, go on…”
The ride to the marina felt a year long.
“I thought we were catching the Express,” Todd said, as they stepped out of the town car.
Eric slipped on his shades and his skin tingled at the cool ocean breeze that wafted over them. “They have a yacht,” Eric said. “It was in the email.”
“Holy shit,” Todd muttered. The driver helped them with their bags and they stepped out into the crosswalk to the dock where sailboats and yachts crowded together on the water.
“‘Course they have a yacht,” Stackler said, walking ahead of them. “These are serious people. You should really leave this one to the big dogs, boys. But ah…” He winked at Todd over his shoulder. “If they still want Todd once I swipe this account, I guess he can come. Clients really eat up that rock star creative genius stuff, huh?”
Eric and Todd shot each other knowing looks as they followed Stackler down to the dock.
It was strange to have always been so annoyed with Todd, now to feel a sense of solidarity with him. Them against Stackler. Though he supposed it was just as often the two of them versus Jackson. Then there was everyone else at Jackson & Larrabee. The place had rapid turnover, the result of Jackson’s impulsive firings. If push came to shove, he supposed he liked Todd better than anyone else, even as much as Todd drove him crazy.
But it was a low bar, he told himself
Strange how someone could so casually slip into your life like that.
The day was crisp and cool, the sky a bright cerulean. It was June and spring was just turning to summer. Perfect weather for a few days in Catalina where the busy season was just beginning.
“Here we are,” Stackler declared. He nodded at a modestly sized but still impressive yacht up ahead and Eric spotted Jordan and Alphonso, both dressed in beige and white linen and wearing shades, as they lounged on their upper deck. “Look alive, pussies.”
“Ahoy, landlubbers!” Alphonso Debussy waved from the deck. He was a specimen of a man, broad shouldered and powerful looking with slicked back salt and pepper hair and a respectable mustache. He grinned from the deck with bright white teeth. “Come aboard! Wait, let me help you with your bags! Jordan! C’mon…”
Jordan was younger than Alphonso, dark skinned, and bald. Between the two of them, they were a startlingly handsome couple and with the money to look the part of rich media moguls. They were also considered groundbreakers, hard workers, and doting fathers.
“Hey, Eric Yoo!” Jordan said, pointing at him as the two made their way down the ramp to the dock. “Great to see you again. I’m so glad you could come. Thank you for indulging us. Really, it’s an excuse for a trip.”
“Sure, but hell, we’re hoping to be wowed,” Alphonso said, as handshakes went around.
“Todd Ellis!” Jordan said, lighting up. “Great to meet you. Heard a lot of great things about you, especially from Eric.”
It took Eric a split-second to remember to play the part. He grinned and patted Todd’s shoulder. “He’s our rockstar. There’s no better creative talent out there right now. Ask any firm.”
“I have to agree,” Stackler said. He nodded approvingly at a baffled Todd, as if he hadn’t just been calling him a pussy. Just as quickly he shook Jordan’s hand. “Hey, man. Great to see you. Really glad you two put this together.”
The pleasantries went on for what Eric considered an interminable amount of time. It was nothing unexpected and Eric was good at feigning interest in Jordan and Alphonso’s children. He fully expected to hear much more about them over the course of the trip. He had honed his interest in clients’ children and made it into an art form at this point.
“How about a morning cocktail, fellas?” Jordan said, as they settled into the cushy wicker couches on deck. “Bloody Mary? Screwdriver? Mimosa? We’ve got brunch all set up.”
They had their own cook on the boat, and he rolled out a cart, the smell of sizzling bacon crab cakes making Eric’s mouth water. They also had their own man captaining so they could relax on deck and Jordan shot a salute up to the cabin, the boat gently lurching as it sped out of the marina.
Eric sat next to Todd on a loveseat and Jordan and Alphonso sat across from them, grinning from beneath their designer shades. Stackler, meanwhile, was in exile in his own chair and Eric smiled to himself.
“Bloody Mary, please,” Todd said, bouncing a little in his seat. “That food looks incredible, guys. I love crab cakes.”
Eric leaned over and said in his ear, “Just one cocktail, remember the rule—”
“I know,” Todd murmured and shot him an infuriated look.
They proceeded to shoot each other a series of pointed looks over the course of the next thirty minutes. Somehow, they’d already developed a silent language between them.
Let’s do it now, Eric’s raised eyebrows said to Todd.
Wait until we finish eating, Todd’s head shake responded.
He felt Stackler’s eyes on them as they chatted with Jordan about how Gigi (the daughter, not the company) was doing in school. He could not tell if he was being paranoid or if Stackler was watching them much too closely. It made him want to plunge into the Fake Relationship Facade quickly before he got too nervous to proceed.
