Breathe, breathe in the air.
Don't be afraid to care.
Leave but don't leave me.
Look around and choose your own ground.

Chapter 28

Cel phones are all the same. On some of them you can surf the net, some of them can take pictures, and all of them can be programmed to play the most annoying fucking music known to man.

A cel phone pitch is easy. Besides, the client on this particular campaign was Japanese, and I didn’t want to deal with the formality. I’d had plenty of practice with Japanese clients, and I knew I’d still have to shmooze him afterwards, but at least I could skip the pitch. That’s the benefit of owning your own company. You can push the work you don’t like off on someone else.

Unfortunately, the pitch was over, and the client had signed the paperwork, and that meant it was my turn. That’s the shitty thing about owning your own company. You have to deal with certain things, no matter how big of a pain in the ass they are.

“Mr. Morimoto,” I said, bowing at the waist to just the right height to indicate my respect. God, I hated this crap. Why couldn’t they just fucking shake hands like the rest of us?

Morimoto bowed in response, just a little lower than me. That was a good sign. “Mr. Kinney,” he said, with only a slight accent. “I’m very pleased with your company’s work.”

I nodded and led him into my office. Of course he was. “I’m glad to hear it. I put my best men on the job. Morimoto Phones will be the next big thing.”

Whatever. His shitty little phones were pieces of crap. But I could get people to buy them, and that was what was important.

He smiled at me and looked around my office. He was short, which was typical, but he wasn’t fat and old like a lot of the clients I met with. No, he was in shape. And he was young. Hmm. I’d never quite managed to read Japanese guys. Was he gay? Would I get away with a little fuck in the bathroom?

Nah. Best not to fuck the client, no matter how hot their ass is. Besides, I was still sated from this morning. Justin had woken me up with-

“And what is this?” he asked, pointing to the large painting that hung across from my desk.

It was one of Justin’s, of course. “Just a little something I picked up in New York last year,” I said. I went to my phone, wondering what kind of dinner I should take him to. A client with this much money, I took out myself. Probably steak. They didn’t have good steak in Japan.

“It’s quite breathtaking,” he said.

I looked back up and arched an eyebrow at him. He was still staring at it. “The artist isn’t half-bad either.”

He laughed and cocked his head, peering closer at it. “I’m a bit of an art enthusiast. This painting is something different.”

I smirked, feeling a sense of pride growing in me. Well, why the fuck not?

“To be honest, I don’t know much about art,” I said. “But I know what I like.” I stood by him and stared at the painting. It was one of Justin’s better pieces from New York. I’d gone there on a business trip, and I had stopped at a gallery I knew carried his pieces. Most of his things at the time were really dark and heavy, but this one was a little brighter, warm. There was a lot of orange. “Orange is the new blue,” I said.

Morimoto laughed. “So, you know the artist?”

I nodded, glancing at him. “You could say that.”

“Ah, she is your lover?” he asked, grinning mischievously.

Well, what the hell. “He is.”

He blinked at me, looking startled, and then laughed again. “Americans certainly have no problem with stating the truth bluntly!”

I snorted. “Well, I don’t, at least.”

“Will he be joining us for dinner?”

I arched an eyebrow at him, considering. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Well, I am very impressed with his work. I’d love to see more and discuss it with him. Would it be possible?” Morimoto asked, looking eager.

I shrugged. “I’ll call him and see if he’s available.” I walked to my desk and sat down, grabbing the phone and dialing while Morimoto ogled the painting more.

“Sunshine,” I said. “Doing anything for dinner?”

“I was just going to have a sandwich or something,” he said. “I thought you were taking a client out tonight.”

“Mm, well, he’d like to meet you,” I said.

He laughed. “Why? What kind of business does he run?”

“He likes your art,” I said. “I think he wanted to meet the greatness behind the painting.”

I could hear him thinking. He didn’t know I had another one of his pieces. Well, he did now. “Brian,” he said hesitantly.

“Meet us at Morton’s in an hour,” I said.

“Morton’s?! Are you sure?! A steak there costs more than-“

“Just do it,” I said, cutting him off. “And wear something nice.” I hung up and smiled at Morimoto. “He’ll be meeting us.”

***

I’d made reservations, of course. And the hostess knew exactly what wine to bring to the table. It was good to have relationships with the local upscale restaurants. It meant you’d get in quickly, and impress the client with your excellent taste.

Not that I like steak. If I’m going to have that much meat in my mouth, it had better be a cock. But the clients liked it, and I could order pasta.

Morimoto was sitting across from me, sipping his wine. I looked over the menu, as if I hadn’t been here a million times.

“Sorry I’m late,” I heard Sunshine say.

I glanced up and grinned. He looked hot. When the fuck did he get such a nice suit?

Morimoto stood and bowed, just a little. Justin stared at him for a second, and then laughed and bowed back, awkwardly.

When they both sat down again, I grinned at Justin, eyeing him. He smirked a little at me. He knew he was hot, which just made him hotter. I was going to have to be careful when I ripped that suit from his body later. I wanted him to wear it again.

“So, Mr. Taylor,” Morimoto said, looking eagerly at Justin. “I hear that that gorgeous piece of orange modernism in Mr. Kinney’s office is one of yours.”

Justin blinked at him, then turned at stared at me for a second before answer. “Y-yes. That’s right.”

“I was wondering, what inspired it? I’m usually not fond of such brightly colored art, but your piece has me intrigued.”

God, they were really going to talk about art. How fucking boring. Oh, well. Now I wouldn’t have to pretend to be interested in whatever the fuck Morimoto was going to talk about during dinner. I sat back and sipped my wine, watching Sunshine talk to him. He was even brighter when he talked about something he loved. Like art. And me.

Fuck. What a stupid fucking thing to think.

I really wished I could stop grinning like an idiot.

“Well, it wasn’t based on anything in New York,” Justin was saying. He leaned forward, but didn’t rest his elbows on the table. His parents had done well with him on that, at least. Of course, coming from a wealthy family, it was probably to be expected.

“Well, what is it based on?” Morimoto asked.

Justin hesitated and glanced at me before answering. “A memory,” he said.

Morimoto nodded. “A memory of what?”

Justin’s lips turned up into a smug grin. “I’m sorry, I don’t like to tell people the details. It changes the way they look at the painting.”

“Well,” Morimoto said, looking slightly disappointed. “It looks passionate, warm… overwhelmed.”

Justin just nodded, and glanced back at me quickly.

Oh.

“That’s just about right,” Justin said, smiling at Morimoto again.

“I’m hoping you brought more of your art for me to look at,” Morimoto said, looking disgustingly hopeful.

Justin laughed and pulled a black book out of his bag. “This has some prints of some of my pieces. It’s not the best quality, but…”

Morimoto was already going through the book, staring at each piece of art the way I stare at asses in Babylon. I took the chance to reach under the table and rest a hand on Justin’s thigh. He jumped just a bit, then glanced at me and grinned. He was flushed, and it wasn’t just because I was touching him. He was excited. He loved having his art admired.

Morimoto laughed and pointed to the book, holding it so they could both see it, and I couldn’t. “I see,” he said.

“Oh, shit,” Justin winced, giving me a guilty look. “That’s not… I mean, I thought I took that out of there,” he mumbled.

What the fuck.

I leaned forward and grabbed the book from them and snorted. Of course. It was a sketch. Of me. With precariously low jeans. I cocked my head and arched an eyebrow. “Well, it’s not exactly how I generally present myself to a client, but…”

Morimoto looked suitably embarrassed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have insisted-“

I handed it back and shrugged. “At least I’m not naked.”

Justin was blushing and giving me nervous looks. Well, he should be worried. Luckily for him, he was too gorgeous in that suit for me to really get pissed at.

Besides, he’d drawn that sketch in New York, about six months ago. It wasn’t only reassuring, it was hot.

Morimoto was flipping through the pages again, and didn’t seem to find anything else embarrassing. When he finally shut t he book, the food had come, and I ate my pasta while they ate their steaks. I don’t know where Sunshine puts all those calories.

“I’m getting married next month,” Morimoto said.

I glanced at him. “Congratulations,” I replied, trying to sound sincere.

“Are you…?” he asked, glancing between Justin and I.

Shit.

“That’s not exactly legal,” I replied. That was the easy answer.

Morimoto nodded quickly, probably noticing how tense Justin had gotten. “I’ve been trying to find a suitable gift for my fiancée,” he said.

What was he getting at?

“Our relationship,” he said, ducking his head and looking a little ashamed. “It hasn’t gone very smoothly. I am constantly away from home for work. It has been difficult. But finally, we’re getting married.”

Justin kept glancing at me nervously, as if the conversation was upsetting me. Why should it? Why the hell would I be stressed out just because someone was talking about getting married?

That would be stupid.

So why was I getting so tense?

“I would like something to give her… something to express…” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “Kondo…”

“What does that mean?” Justin asked.

“It means ‘this time’… I want something to show her that this time, we will be together.” He gave Justin an intense look. “How much would you require to commission a painting?”

“O-oh!” Justin sat up straight and shook his head. “I couldn’t, really.”

“Please,” Morimoto said, bowing his head. “Your art is the first thing that has been good enough for her. She would love it, I know.”

”W-well,” Justin stammered, glancing at me.

I shrugged. If someone wanted to commission his art, I didn’t see how that could be a bad thing.

“I’d have to talk to you about… what size you’d want it to be. Of course, shipping it back to Japan will be expensive,” Justin said slowly.

“Of course, of course, we can decide on the size, and the price is not the problem. Please, how much would you ask for it?” Morimoto asked.

“Well, I’m not sure… generally it depends on the size of the painting, how well received it is at the galleries,” Justin said, chewing on his lower lip. I put my hand back on his leg. He needed to relax.

“Would $5,000 be enough? I was thinking it could be about this size…” Morimoto said, gesturing and indicating a space about five by five feet.

“Five… five thousand?!” Justin asked, practically choking.

I squeezed his leg. Keep your fucking mouth shut, Sunshine. Never let them know they’re offering too much. This guy can afford it.

“Of course, if that is not enough…” Morimoto started.

“N-no, that would be… acceptable,” Justin said.

I smirked and sat back, going back to eating my pasta. Good for Sunshine. I was proud of him.

“Of course,” Morimoto said after they’d discussed the details of the painting further. “I have to tell you, you would be very well received in Tokyo. I would be happy to introduce you to other businessmen like myself, who are always looking for new art for their collections. You could be very big in Tokyo.” He smiled at Justin.

I felt like I’d swallowed a huge rock. My throat hurt and my stomach felt heavy. I dropped my fork onto my plate.

Not again.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Morimoto,” Justin said, smiling at him. “I appreciate the offer.”

“Well, please keep it in mind. Tokyo is becoming a hub for art, and I would be pleased to introduce you!”

I couldn’t eat anything else. I felt dizzy. I felt sick.

Why the fuck was this happening again?

I knew where this was going. I knew it would from the beginning. It always fucking did.

I was such an idiot.

We finished dinner, I paid, and we bowed again. Justin got the information on the painting, and Morimoto said he’d be sending him half of the money the next day, and the rest once the painting was completed. I thanked Morimoto for his business.

We drove back to the loft in separate cars. I arrived before him, probably because I was speeding like crazy, and went immediately to my stash and lit up. I needed something to calm my nerves, and I didn’t want to get drunk. Pot would have to do.

“Brian?” Justin entered the loft and shut the door behind him. He looked around, finding me lying on the bed.

“Sunshine,” I said, coughing a little.

He kneeled on the bed and gave me a worried look. “Is something wrong?”

“Why the fuck would anything be wrong?” I asked, avoiding his eyes.

He stared at me a long time before lying down next to me. “I can’t believe it. $5,000 is so much. I’d better do a good job.”

“You will,” I said. I was certain of that much.

“This time, he said.” Justin rolled onto his side and grinned at me. “Sounds like us.”

I shut my eyes. I didn’t want to think about it.

***

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