Vision Ch. 07

"Kindly do not attempt to be intractable as we'd really rather not go through the tedium of your trying to wage a fruitless war of attrition by dragging out negotiations. We all know exactly what we're talking about here and what it's really worth. What we've asked for is more than fair. Ultimatums are ugly, but if you're not interested, there are others waiting."

She names his chief competitor. He looks at her dismissively. She smiles again and gives a little laugh.

"We thank you for your time." Standing, she turns to me. "Dax, shall we?" She places her hand on my arm, her lips quirking with repressed laughter. What the hell is so funny? She's blowing my deal!

She winks, leans in, and whispers 'trust me'.

Trust Lulu?

"Always."

"Wait a minute young lady. I take it you're his attorney?"

"I am." He quickly reads it over again and looks at her assessingly, reevaluating his tactics.

"Let's see if we can't make a deal."

Sitting down again she pulls me into the chair next to her. "Let's get down to it shall we." Taking over as moderator she's re-summarizing and framing the issues. It quickly becomes clear that she has more information and knowledge than anyone in the room about what's going on in his company as well as his competitors and she uses these bargaining chips as leverage actually insisting on and obtaining an even higher sell price.

She sidebars with me to explain 2 minor concessions before proceeding.

"We have to give them something I suppose, we're not meeting them halfway so it allows us the appearance of being generous. But are you ok with it?"

"Sounds good bébé, go for it."

Three hours later we've come to the final offer and acceptance portion and everyone looks mostly pleased. We wait as they re-draft and print the contract.

Mr. Thayer comes over. "A man has been speaking in my ear for the last 20 minutes about you. Lou James out of Richmond, VA, law review writer, top of your class at Columbia University, on the partner track at your law firm already after only 6 years. Brilliant work, just brilliant. Mind like a steel trap. You've cost me millions today. Millions. Beautiful, brilliant and vicious, just like my second wife. If you ever want a job . . ."

He grins at her in a way I'm not keen on at all.

"I recall applying here after law school. I was turned down."

"So this is revenge?"

"No, this is karma."

He looks at Mr. Ott and Mr. Savan. "I should fire you two, she's worth ten of you." They rush over to talk to him.

"Ah, get the hell away from me! You're safe, for now." He waves them off disdainfully before turning to shake my hand.

"Congratulations young man, you've just become rich." He looks at my Lulu again in that way. "You two married?"

I take a look at Lou who's got that supremely annoyed look she gets these days when anyone brings up marriage. I decide to speak the truth. "I'm trying and while I can't quite pin her down, I think I'm closing in."

"Ha! This may damned well do it. If not . . . " he looks at her "I am looking for wife number four."

The way he's checking her out I know he's not joking.

She laughs heartily. "You couldn't afford to divorce me, old man."

Thayer booms with laughter at that as he says goodbye and strides out of the room muttering and chuckling to himself.

"Man's going to need one hell of a pre-nup, yes sir!"

Look at her, sitting back in her chair, hands clasped in her lap doing her best to look innocent after all that bare-knuckled fury.

"What? I tried to be good - I did, but he was trying to pull some shit. I just couldn't stand by and let that happen."

"I'm not upset Lulu. I'm relieved not to mention excited. We did it bébé."

"Goddamned right we did!" She beams at me. "Give me some." She holds out her hand and we slap palms twice grunting enthusiastically.

"How much do I owe you for that?"

She looks at me shyly and shrugs. "Just buy me a really big steak."

_____________________________________

After pancakes with Eddie, we stroll Brooklyn looking at the brownstones. "I almost wish I had an excuse to move back here."

"You'd move back here?"

"In a hot minute if I could afford it."

"I've seen your bank statements you could easily afford to live here."

She gives me an annoyed look. "You're worse than the IRS. I can afford to rent here maybe, but purchasing would be a different story. I'm not sure it'd be worth it for what I'd have to sacrifice as far as space and grass and trees and forget a garden not to mention what a bitch parking would be - Though I notice that many are putting in garages when they do over these houses, and then there's taxes and gas and water, it gets expensive fast."

We stop and look at one in particular peering inside as far as we dare. I listen and watch as she explains the differences in shading on the houses greystone and brownstone.

"As nice as these are, the back yard that accompanies them is about the size of a postage stamp, not to mention the lack of privacy from prying eyes. I'm happy with my three acres of lawn surrounded by a high wall."

Reaching out and hugging her I look at her for a long moment. "What say I buy us one? After yesterday, I think I can afford it."

She blushes furiously. "I wasn't hinting or anything. I have a home and I'm happy there. I'm just making conversation."

"You hate it when I try to give you things."

"Dax you give me things all the time." looking everywhere but at me she rubs her forehead. "We shouldn't have walked so far, I'm a sort of tired and it's getting late. We should call Uber, see if they can find us."

She looks a little fatigued, and it makes my chest tight.

"Come on lil bit, hop on." I turn around. I look back to catch her raised eyebrow. "Are you serious? Because I warn you I'm tired enough to take you up on it and those pancakes haven't exactly made me lighter."

"Come on, get on up there."

She laughs once. "Alright." Hopping up, she wraps herself around my back. I hold onto to her legs and as I bounce her into position she gives a little giggle. I love that sound.

"What's the fare for this service?" She asks.

"One kiss." I turn my head and she plants one on me. I tote her back to the main avenue and she hails us a cab.

_________________________

We order room service and have a good long nap and wake up comfortably wrapped around each other. We kiss for long moments and I've just started to touch her when the phone rings. I can hear John Wayne asking if we were up to anything.

"Unfortunately, not." She looks at me ruefully. "We'll be down shortly. Try not to pick anyone up." She laughs. "Fine; if I don't see you I know to find you in your usual stall. See you in 20."

Groaning she rolls out of bed. "That was Wayne, he's downstairs ready and raring to go. You can sit this out if you want. I'm not sure clubs are your scene and as tame as he first appeared it can get pretty wild."

"I know how to party Lou. New Orleans here, remember?"

She cocks her head at me smiles. "Hmmm . . .well let's see how you do." She pops into the bathroom briefly. I'm dressed by the time she comes out. Looking at me she bites her lip and sighs.

"I look ok?"

"Let's just say I am not relishing having to fend off all the women and queens who will be fiending for your flesh tonight. As nice as you look in a suit, your ass looks best in jeans."

Shimmying into a pair of dark wash jeans, and sliding on a little sparkly slightly sheer top, she takes off her bra. That little scrap of material is all that stands between her and New York. At the mirror she slicks on electric red lip-gloss and fluffs her hair, glancing at me.

"That's a hell no right there Lou." I've never enforced sartorial sanctions but that's too much. I find the bra and put it on her myself. "We're not in the tropics."

"This only serves them up nice and high. But whatever."

_________________________________

Something's wrong with me. I'm in the big city with a man I love and rather than go out I just want to stay in bed with him. I wasn't entirely joking earlier, looking like he looks I'm going to have problems tonight. Black t-shirt, legs that go on forever, the back of his thighs looking hard and fine through his jeans, those eyes, that stubbled dimple. Lust. I've loved just being with him these last days, we've done a lot of talking.

He's getting domineering again. But if I'm not going to give on marriage and children I'm going to have to give at moments like this. Buy me a house in Brooklyn? Hell after yesterday he can well afford it but him buying me a house sounds so . . . formal. My family loves him. It's getting serious and moving fast again our relationship, we don't seem to know any other speed.

I can't imagine not being with him, but the way he adores me is alarming in its intensity.

"Come on sugarbutt, you're spacing out over there, John Wayne is probably in trouble by now."

On cue my phone buzzes, I let it go to voicemail and finish my eyes. I pocket cash, ID and gloss in Dax's pocket.

"So now I'm your purse?"

"I don't have room."

Leaning back he looks me up and down. "Yeah, I can see that. I'm ambivalent about these jeans. On the one hand they show too much of you, on the other hand it'll take a crowbar to get them off you.

He's palming my ass and it's making me horny. "How about you let me cut them off you later?"

He bends to kiss me and I back off. If he kisses me that's it. "Let's go." The ride down is thankfully short. The way he's staring at me. "Stop it Dax."

"Am I bothering you?" Smug son-of-a-bitch. I glance at him and the look on his face says it all. My mouth fills with saliva and my nipples are suddenly so hard they hurt, that's new. I feel hot and a little dizzy. The doors open and I am glad to be out of the confined space.

Eddie's joined John Wayne and they're waiting.

"Hey ya'll, should we have drinks or just walk over?"

"I want to walk. I need air." Eddie takes a look at me and squints like she's about to make a diagnosis. John Wayne is anxious to go though and we head out with him insisting on boys with boys and girls with girls.

"Come on Lou, loan him to me for a minute? It'll boost my street cred."

"It's up to Dax."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "It's no big deal." John Wayne wiggles his eyebrows at him.

"Fine, but if you get handsy I'll whip your ass."

It's good to be out, the airs a little crisp tonight. New York in September, warm days and cool sometimes-chilly nights.

--

Waiting in line, about to be the old man at the club when someone at the door, a bouncer recognizes John Wayne and waves us in. "It pays to feed folk in this town." He says. Lulu tries to drag me onto the floor.

"Go play bébé, I'll watch from here."

There's a wrinkle of disapproval in her nose but she's quickly swept into the growing madness. She arches, twirls, dips, glides, stretches and occasionally shakes and at one point is airborne as Wyatt Paul lifts her and her legs and feet flex and point this way and that at the ceiling before he tosses her lightly in the air and catches her and she slides all the way down his body. Wow!

She's having a good time and at one point comes up to me and manages to drag me out to basically bump, grind and shimmy all around me. Her good mood is infectious and I let myself be swept up for a few moments. She's sweating lightly and smells amazing.

"Alright Madonna, let's have some water."

I drag her off the floor and over to the bar and order two bottles. John Wayne finally comes over.

"I've had it. Lets get some food and call it a night."

Lou looks at him in shock. "It's barely been like two hours!"

"I know right? I shock even myself these days. But I need to preserve what's left of my Dorian Gray-like beauty and a good nights rest is an essential part of that. Besides, we came, we danced, we conquered and we have still got it Duchess. There's nothing left to prove."

We round up Eddie, who is still having a grand time and all head out to eat.

We wind up at Balthazar's, which at 2 am is supposed to be closed, but John Wayne knows people. We pretty much have the place to ourselves. Lou and Eddie take up with the wait staff and remaining cooks and go back to hang around the kitchen and gorge themselves on what John Wayne calls high-brow Fusion Junk Food.

"So, you're kicking it with the Duchess these days?"

"Yes I am."

"You are one lucky bastard. Lou is something else. Still has the moves, has gained a little weight, that ass of hers has finally come into its own. You must be feeding and fucking her on the regular."

"Not that its any of your business, but yes. Yes, I am - and yes, I am."

John Wayne waves off my surly response

"Don't mind me. The Duchess and I don't stand on ceremony."

"What's with the nickname?"

"I gave it to her shortly after meeting her. I mean of course she's not a queen. There's only one of those and that's me. But she does indeed rule. She was this beautifully brash petite thing, with too much mouth, and too much talent and too much sense. Just TOO MUCH!!"

He laughs and leans back to watch her buzz around the kitchen, she looks to be teaching the cooks a thing or two.

"Yep, running the show as usual, typical. Extreme Napoleon complex that one. Snooty as hell when I met her. We were both up trying out for the Alvin Ailey dance company. That they didn't take her on is still a major point of contention with me to this day.

She got caught up in their politics, i.e. she wouldn't let herself be fucked literally and figuratively by certain folk and they made her pay for it by shutting her out. People were outraged, she was and is an amazing dancer. She's a trooper though, I don't know what she did or how she did it but she made sure I had a spot. I danced with them for 4 years until I just couldn't take it anymore.

I decided I wanted to cook. So she wanted to know if I knew the bare basics and had me fix her a burger and an omelet declared them perfect and got me my restaurant. When that woman makes a friend its for life. Dealt with the bankers who didn't want to loan money to a gay man. Helped me source equipment, got me hook ups galore. Armed with nothing but a computer, a phone and that smile of hers that girl could run the world."

Always the same story over and over with Lou. I guess that's just who she is.

"So . . . what's it like, being with her?"

"Excuse me?" Am I hearing him right? I look at him closely.

"Don't get me wrong. I am gay. But the Duchess there . . . whew! Lou had this country boy shook for a moment. That mouth of hers man, those lips. I have been contentedly gay and out since I was 15 but upon meeting her I seriously questioned myself for a solid month. She's like the best of both worlds, kind of rough but really girly and so smart - not overt about it you know, but still . . . like I said she's too much. I was crushing on her big time.

Duchess nipped my confusion right in the bud. Said she would consider dating me if I considered going down on her. I was cured just like that. It's not my thing and too much pressure. Especially with her if you don't do it right. I've heard stories.

You however, must have that certain skill set because she usually manages to at least talk to me once a month, but we've been playing phone tag and leaving messages and texting since April. She did call me up from the wherever she was holed up out in the Indian Ocean the other month though."

"Oh, so you she managed to contact. I see"

John Wayne sits back and crosses his arms and looks at me long and hard.

"My girl loves you, so that means I do too at least a little, but you had better ease up on her. She will eventually come around on her own, give you everything you want and then some. But if she feels pressed and pressured you can forget it. She will cut you off and there will be no coming back from it. I have seen her do it."

"I will take that under advisement."

"See that you do. I would hate to have to call the gay mafia out on you."

--

November

There's a late season hurricane watch in effect. Lulu is nervous. She hates storms. Having ridden out more than my fare share in the Gulf Coast not to mention the worst of the worst, I can't say I blame her. An inspection of her home finds her very unprepared; she doesn't even have an emergency generator.

I check the cabinets and cupboards and decide she needs more canned goods that can be opened without benefit of a can opener. I get to work. I get an emergency generator with extra fuel, pack enough water, canned goods, batteries, candles and special provisions like Baby wipes (which are too useful for too many things), tampons and toilet paper which are never packed for emergency situations, in watertight waterproof containers to last at least a month.

I stack it all neatly in the basement. She gives me some cheek about fear-based purchasing. She stops though when she sees the look on my face. Besides, for all her tart talk I can tell she is wildly impressed. Her home is very solid though and should ride the storm out well. It's solid concrete masonry with brick overlay on a poured concrete foundation. A jewel box bunker. The roof is new, though the slate on the roof is original it has hurricane clipping. A lot of money and thought went into her home.

"I was lucky to find this place. The way houses are built today I just don't understand it with weather being the way it is all over the United States, it's almost criminal to sell people wood frame houses. You almost don't stand a chance if something catastrophic should happen, which is all the time now, yet our entire housing market revolves around these homes. When I was in PR I don't think I saw any coastal homes constructed like that. It's more costly but I'm thinking that almost all homes should be poured concrete."

"I like the wrought iron window shutters, reminds me of houses back home in the quarter. The recessed wrought iron covering for the crystal doors to the room and bathroom are particularly ingenious."

"Lenny's brilliant idea. You should have seen him and Harry working that one out, they bickered for days like an old married couple."

Recessed wrought iron gates on a roll and pull system over ceiling of her bedroom and bathroom and there's a struggle to get them to slide, they weigh a lot, but I get them down and attached to the hooks in the concrete. "We're going to have to start oiling those rollers, or move them more often."

It's dawned on me several times now that her home while not unduly large, is magnificently grand. It's the sense of things being done not merely well but with remarkable precision that gets under the skin a bit.

Bringing in the last of the plants from the front porch, she worries aloud about the greenhouse but there's nothing we can do about that right now. The house phone rings.

"Hey Harry. Yes, yes I know. Dax pulled the shutters down and bolted everything. Actually, he went and got me a generator yesterday now that you mention it and squared me away for emergency rations. I am now prepared for any and all emergencies. Yes, you've been replaced. I have to go Lenny's beeping in."

"I'm fine. Oh good grief! Here just speak to Dax, I don't feel like repeating it all again, and make sure you call Uncle Jack and Lili and tell them too."

Looking annoyed she hands me the phone. "Hey? I've got it covered on this end. She's now got a generator and a couple month's worth of supplies just to be sure. I know right? You'd think she would be."

We settle down to her nicely cooked dinner of broiled Halibut steaks with lemon and dill, and baby potatoes and French green beans. We have some of MM's delicious aquavit to drink.

"Thanks for getting me prepared. We should be pretty safe. I've been known to ride out storms in my closet. I do miss the shade that oak tree I had provided, but I got lucky last time in that it didn't crush the house and me in it. The ground was so saturated with rain that it was nothing for the gale force winds to blow it over. It upended gracefully, keeled over and lightly leaned against the house. It made a beautiful dining room table, bed, kitchen cabinets and floors though." She smiles.