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Old February 8th, 2014, 07:13 PM
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Reeza will become famous soon enough
The Gardener (Part 20)

Author's Note: This chapter features a lot of plot development. Adam and Sam have a big argument, there's a change of personnel at the accounting firm, and Adam and Henry have a close encounter. It's juicy!

Previously on The Gardener . . . Adam and Sam met some of their neighbors, Sam was awfully horny after eating all the food they brought over, the boys went skinny dipping in Flora's pool, and the police suspected that Big Ed burned the garden shed.


The Gardener
by Reeza

Parts 1 and 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Part 9 : Part 10 : Part 11 : Part 12 : Part 13 : Part 14 : Part 15 : Part 16 : Part 17 : Part 18 : Part 19

Part 20

By the middle of July, Edward O'Neill, Big Ed, the King of Cars and erstwhile candidate for the city council, was arrested and charged with arson, bribery of a public official, and driving while intoxicated. Flora had offered the Chief of Police, one of her old acquaintances, an opportunity to do the right thing while preserving his own position and reputation, but the subsequent investigation uncovered a history of graft and political corruption that led to the chief's downfall as well. There was ample testimony from the rank and file officers in the department. The mayor held a news conference and gave a special commendation to Officer Doug Mansky, the biggest asshole and the most tenacious police officer in the city, though his gaping assholishness was not mentioned to the press. Officer Carl Hanson's assistance was also noted.

Everyone expected Big Ed to hire a fancy lawyer, post bail, and buy his way to an acquittal, but the judge, another one of Flora's old acquaintances, set the bail very high. Soon it was discovered that the King of Cars had no money to pay a lawyer, to post bail, or to buy a sandwich, let alone an acquittal. He had gambled away everything he inherited from his father and was terminated as the general manager of O'Neill's Autos by the owner, Mrs. Flora O'Neill. Big Ed was not merely broke; he owed money all over town. Flora refused to give him any financial assistance. When she was called a "heartless mother" by a radio commentator, she gave the local newspaper the following quote: "Honey, they can think whatever they want. When I'm done with a cigarette, I don't just fling it into the brush at the side of the road. I crush it into the pavement with the tip on my shoe. I wouldn't want to leave behind anything that could start a fire." In the public eye, she was fierce. At home, she cried.

Big Ed's arrest was a great relief, but when the news first broke, I wasn't prepared for the phone calls I would get from reporters who wanted to know why he would burn down my garden shed. Officer Hanson's carefully written police report referred vaguely to a "dispute" that led to "retaliation." On a Wednesday morning, Sam and I sat with Flora on her terrace and discussed how to tell the story. One of the decisions I felt we had to make was what, if anything, we would say about how Sam and I were related. When I brought this up, Flora looked surprised, and Sam looked wounded, but I didn't think it would be good for either of us if the nature of our relationship was made known to the whole city. I tried to make my case.

"You know how private I am. Six months ago I hadn't told anyone I was gay. Now the whole neighborhood is making assumptions because of those flyers. Do you really expect me to tell the local media about our relationship? 'Yes, I'm gay! And my boyfriend is a twenty-year-old shirtless landscaper!'"

Sam's face fell. "Is that the way you think of me?"

Oh, shit. "No . . . that's not . . . it's just . . . other people might see you that way, and I am older, so . . ."

"Why would other people see me that way? Do you think I wouldn't put a shirt on? I may not have your education, but I'm not stupid, Adam!"

"I know you're not stupid. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

He wouldn't look me in the eye. "I guess I need to keep myself covered up from now on."

I pressed my hands against my face and whispered, "Oh, God! I'm such an idiot."

Flora intervened, lightly touching Sam's arm. "Samson, honey . . . you know Adam thinks the world of you. But he has a point. People might make assumptions about you that would be very unflattering."

"Like what? I'm not ashamed of being gay. I'm not embarrassed to say I love Adam. I don't get it."

I could see Flora struggling to come up with a way to explain it without hurting his feelings. "Well, dear . . . you're a very handsome younger man. Adam is . . . more established . . . financially. People who don't know you might think he provides . . . support . . . in exchange for . . . your companionship."

"You mean people might think he's paying me for sex . . . like a hustler. Is that what you thought when you met me?"

I stopped breathing. This is getting worse.

Flora's face turned red. "I'm sorry to say that, without knowing you . . . I was afraid there was a financial arrangement of some kind. But I know you're not like that."

Sam just stared at her, his face as red as hers.

I took over. "Sam . . . do you realize I could lose my job if my boss knew that I'm gay? I can't take a risk like that when it's completely unnecessary. Our relationship has nothing to do with the fire."

"Why would you . . . wait, your boss doesn't know you're gay? But . . . he let you change your work schedule so you could spend more time with me."

Fuck! "Sam . . . he's really conservative and Catholic. I told him I met someone I cared about very much . . . which is true . . ."

"Oh my God, Adam . . . you let him think you have a girlfriend."

I said nothing. I had nothing to say.

He didn't look angry, even though he was. His expression revealed something far worse than that. He was disappointed in me. He thought less of me now. I'd never seen that before. He stood up slowly. "I think I'd better leave this to the two of you. Just give me the script I'm supposed to follow." He looked at Flora. "I'll say whatever I'm paid to say." He started walking down the lawn towards the hedge.

"Samson, please! I'm so sorry!" Flora had tears in her eyes.

I stood up. "I'm gonna go after him, okay?"

"Yes, of course! How awful!"

I ran to catch up with him just as he was ducking through the opening in the hedge that was too small for him. His t-shirt caught on a branch. Angry and impatient, he forced himself through the opening, tearing the shirt in half. He twisted around to yank the torn fabric off the branch and saw me on the other side. "Leave me alone, Adam! I need time to think." He tore the remains of the shirt off his body.

"Please don't do this! We can work it out." I passed through the hedge. There was a woman standing in the driveway a few paces behind Sam.

"Excuse me. I'm a reporter from the Daily Herald. Are you Adam Evenson?" She was looking at Sam. Shirtless Sam.

He turned and awkwardly covered his chest with the shirt scraps. "Me? No." He pointed back at me. "He is."

"Oh. I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about the fire. I tried to call you, but . . ."

We were both frozen in place for a minute. When I collected half of my wits, I said, "Uh, sure . . . um . . . you caught us off guard. Uh, we were just . . . what were we doing?"

In a flat voice, Sam said, "I'm going up to my apartment, Mr. Evenson. We can discuss those other issues later." He backed away from the woman, keeping his nipples covered.

"Okay, then," I said. "Thanks." He turned quickly and ran up the stairs of the coach house. The door slammed.

The reporter grimaced at me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I don't like to surprise people like this, but my editor insisted that I speak to you today. Do you mind?"

She seemed nice. I went out on a limb and invited her to follow me back to Flora's terrace. As we walked across the lawn I asked her, "If we talk to you and answer all of your questions, and if we refuse to speak to any other reporters, would that be good for you?"

She was surprised. "An exclusive? Yeah, that would be good. My editor would be pleased."

"Would you be willing to do me a favor in return?"

"I'd have to hear what it is first."

I told her the truth about my relationship with Sam, and asked her if that needed to be included. She didn't see why it would be relevant, but wanted to hear the whole story first. I introduced her to Flora, and we sat down and talked. It didn't take long for the reporter to see that Flora was a much more interesting subject for an article about the painful conflict between a mother and son, and her decision to do the right thing, even though it would destroy him. Sam and I became minor characters - the neighbors who helped her during their final, dramatic conflict. Because I was the owner of the property Ed burned, Sam's name wasn't even mentioned in the finished article. Our argument about whether to reveal our relationship to the local media had been completely unnecessary.

After the reporter left, I went back to the coach house to talk to Sam. I was surprised at how nervous I was, and remembered that day, many months ago, when I came to his apartment for dinner. At that time, I was afraid Sam would discover I was attracted to him. Now I was afraid he was finished with me. I knew it wouldn't last. I did my best to ignore my pessimistic thoughts, and knocked on his door.

He came to the door wearing a long sleeved black sweatshirt, despite the warm weather. Of course, he looked good in it. "Mr. Evenson . . . what can I do for you?" I guess he was still angry.

"C'mon, Sam. Don't do that."

"I'm just being careful. We don't want anyone to think we're friends, right? Is that reporter still here?"

"No, she left."

"What did you tell her?"

"That we're together, in a relationship, whatever you want to call it."

That changed his expression. "Really? And she's gonna put that in the paper?"

"Well . . . no. She didn't think it was relevant to the story."

"Did you ask her to leave it out?"

I hesitated. No more lies. "Yes, I did. But she agreed that it wasn't relevant."

His face hardened again. "Uh huh. That worked out well for you . . . your reputation is safe. And mine too, of course . . . the whole city won't think I'm your paid companion. Thanks for protecting me, Adam. I really appreciate it." His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Sam, can I just come in so we can talk about this?"

"No."

"What?"

"No. You can't come in. I don't want to listen to your excuses for wanting to keep our relationship a secret."

"I don't! It's not a secret. But I don't need to tell the whole city!"

"You could at least tell your boss!"

"No, I can't! I need my job!"

"I don't wanna talk about this anymore! Just go away and leave me alone."

"But it's our day off! We're supposed to spend it together."

"I'm too angry. Go away."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"No! You're not getting out of this that easy!"

"I don't want to get out of it!"

"Then you're gonna have to put up with me being angry!"

"But . . . can't we just make up and get it over with?"

He took a deep breath, and looked even angrier. "Aaaauuurgh!" Apparently he was frustrated with me. He slammed the door so hard it shook the whole building and cracked the glass in the window. On the other side of the door I heard him say, "God dammit! Now I have to fix that!"

I turned to go down the stairs, but I needed to ask him something. I knocked on the door again.

He yelled, "WHAT?"

I raised my voice to be heard through the door. "Do you want some lunch?"

"I'm not hungry!"

"What?" I heard him, but I didn't believe it.

"I'm . . . not . . . HUNGRY!"

"Okay. What about dinner?" He didn't answer. "I was gonna make meatloaf." Still nothing. "Mashed potatoes and peas. Maybe some Haagen-Dazs?"

"Fine! I'll be there!"

I listened for a minute. "You're not gonna sit in that hot apartment all day, are you? You should sit in the garden."

I heard him stomping across the floor towards the door. He pulled it open to make a point. "I suppose you want me to put on a Speedo and sit in the sun! Am I being paid for that?" He slammed the door again. I heard something fall off the wall and break. "God dammit!"

"I'm not paying you for anything! So, sit in there and roast! I don't care." I started down the stairs.

He called out, "I know you don't!"

I let him have the last word. I stomped across the driveway, up my back stairs, and through the back door. I almost slammed it, but restrained myself at the last minute. I stood there, breathing heavily, my thoughts racing. We never had an argument like that before. Am I wrong? I must be wrong. He's usually right. What have I done? Did I fuck everything up? Will he forgive me? Should I forgive him? Wait . . . what did he do wrong? I'm usually wrong. What did I do wrong?

My thoughts would go on like that for hours, but none of those questions would be answered. I did what any normal person would do after an argument. I dusted everything in the house. I mopped the floors. I used a manicure scissors to remove every brown leaf from every frond of the ferns in the living room, then worried that I had killed them. I cried for five minutes. I took everything out of the freezer and put it all back in a more pleasing arrangement. I checked the attic for rat droppings and squirrel damage, but found none. I got on the internet to read an article about carpenter ants. I prepared the meatloaf and put it in the refrigerator. And then I polished the light bulbs in all the lamps and chandeliers. It was a productive afternoon. I was perfectly fine.

While I was peeling potatoes, I looked out the kitchen window and saw Sam sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs facing a back corner of the garden. He was wearing a t-shirt instead of the sweatshirt he had on earlier, and held a book that looked like my copy of Wuthering Heights. I watched him for a while, not because I cared what he was doing, but because I happened to be near the window. He seemed to be reading, then he got up and stared at something in the grass. He would sit down and look at the book again, then pick a pebble out of the sole of his sandal. He didn't stay in the chair for more than two minutes at a time. I saw him trying to do a handstand, reading, staring at the sky, reading, creeping up on a squirrel, and reading. Once, he got up and just walked around the chair a couple of times before sitting down again. I sniffed and muttered, "Somebody has issues." When he glanced at the house, I ducked.

The kitchen smelled like roasting meatloaf when he quietly came through the back door. I was just starting to prepare the cooked potatoes in a big kettle on the counter. He stood near me, looking uncomfortable. "Need any help?"

I didn't look up. "Do you know how to mash potatoes?"

"I can smash things."

I stepped aside and handed him the potato masher. He started to crush the potatoes in the pan, being careful not to bend the implement. I watched him until they were all mashed. "Lemme throw some butter in there." I cut a chunk and dropped it into the potatoes. "Smash that in."

He worked the butter into the potatoes. "They don't look right."

"They're not done yet. I need to add milk." I added what looked like the right amount. "Now they need to be whipped." I plugged in my electric mixer. "Do you want to do it, or should I?"

"You do it. I'll watch." I set aside the masher and started beating the mixture in the pan. Sam stood behind me. When I shut off the mixer and stirred the potatoes by hand, I could feel him very close to me, breathing. He touched my shoulder. I turned around and put my arms around his chest, hugging him tightly. He reciprocated. We both apologized at the same time, took all the blame, said we were stupid, and kissed. I didn't want to let go of him, but dinner was ready.

We ate in the dining room to get away from the heat of the kitchen. It took a while for a conversation to start. I asked him, "So . . . what did you do all afternoon?"

"I was reading. What did you do?"

"Just some cleaning."

There was a long pause. He said, "I don't like being angry at you."

"Good. I don't like it when you're angry at me either."

"Weren't you angry at me?"

"I wanted to be, but I couldn't figure out what you did wrong."

He thought for a minute. "It wasn't fair of me to expect you to tell your boss about us. I know about discrimination, and I don't want you to lose your job. I just wish you told me that from the beginning."

"I was afraid you would be disappointed in me. I'm still afraid of that."

"But that's what I'm always worrying about, too . . . that you'll think I'm too young, or uneducated. So I try to make up for those things by being . . . by looking . . . the way you like me to look. Now I find out that can work against me, too."

I felt guilty. "It doesn't really work against you, and you don't have to make up for anything. I'm sorry I called you a shirtless landscaper, I didn't . . ."

He corrected me. "A twenty-year-old shirtless landscaper."

"Yes, I know . . . I said that, but . . . that has more to do with what other people might think rather than what I think. I don't have any problem with your age or your education, but that doesn't mean other people will understand our relationship. And I don't love you because of the way you look. It doesn't matter . . ."

"Oh, c'mon, Adam! Don't pretend it doesn't matter what I look like. It matters to me what you look like."

"It does?"

"Well, yeah! How many times have I told you how handsome and sexy you are? I'm not just saying that. If I didn't think you were hot when I met you, I probably wouldn't be here. And if you didn't think I was good looking, I wouldn't be here. So don't say it doesn't matter."

I had to admit he was right, but it felt so shallow. "That might be why we got together, but it's not what keeps this going. If I were a complete asshole instead of an occasional asshole, you wouldn't still be here, would you?"

He gave that some thought. "I suppose not." He paused. "But if I were an asshole, and I looked like this, would you get rid of me?" He flexed both arms to make his point. "Be honest."

I really thought about it, and I didn't like my answer. "No. I probably wouldn't get rid of you. But that's fucked up. I should have more respect for myself." I hung my head.

"Yes, you should. And I'll always have to wonder whether . . . I can't believe I'm gonna say this . . . you just want me for my body."

"But you're not an asshole. That's why I feel like I won the lottery with you. Like, the way you're helping Joe by shoveling snow and cutting his grass, and you didn't even mention it. That's the stuff that makes me melt inside. You're one of the nicest people I've ever met."

"It's not that big of a deal."

"Yes, it is! Nobody else was doing it for him. Y'know, I think it's great when you're proud of your body and your good looks, but you need to start being proud of your mind and your heart, too. You're a great guy, and people like you because of that. Believe me, it would be easy enough to hate you for being so damned hot and muscular."

He didn't have an immediate response to that. He ate more meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and complimented my cooking. After a few minutes, he said, "Will you be honest with me if I ask you a tough question?"

I hate set-ups like that, but with Sam, I wanted to be honest. "Yes. I promise."

"If you didn't know me, and you saw me in a public place, like where I work . . . what would you think of me, based only on the way I look?"

Ooooh, fuck. This is why I hate these set-ups. I tried to think of times when I saw very handsome, muscular young men in public. "Sam, you hafta understand, my response would be coming from a lot of jealousy."

"Yeah, just tell me what you would think."

I hesitated, but I had promised to be honest. "I would think you were a brainless muscle head who spends all his time in the gym and hasn't read a book in his life." My own words made me wince.

"That's what I expected. And what if you saw me with a guy similar to you . . . older, not built like me, professional."

I sighed heavily. I don't like this game! "I would think . . . there's no way you would be with that guy unless he's making it worth your while . . . financially." I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Exactly. That's what Flora thought, right?" His face was flushed, but he didn't seem to be angry.

"Yeah, that was as much of an insult to me as it was to you. But I can't really blame her for thinking the same way I thought when we were getting to know each other. That's why it was so hard for me to believe that you were attracted to me. And the hunkier you got, the more unbelievable it seemed."

"Right. It was working against me." He continued to eat, but not at his usual pace.

I was afraid of where this conversation was headed. Is he tired of looking like that? Does he wanna cut back? How will I feel about that? It didn't take me long to come to a conclusion. I love him. I would still love him. "Sam, you were very attractive when you first showed up here, and you weren't nearly this big. You don't need to be huge to please me."

"I know. You've said that before. But you like all this muscle, don't you?" There wasn't a trace of arrogance in his voice.

"Yeah, it's incredibly hot . . . a fantasy come true. I thought you liked it, too."

"I do. It feels fantastic. And I like the difference between our bodies. It really turns me on."

I sat back in my chair. "So . . . the only problem is what other people might think of us."

He nodded gently. The corners of his mouth turned up. He looked me in the eye and said exactly what I was thinking. "Fuck 'em."

I grinned. "Yeah. Fuck 'em. I'm not gonna pretend that I don't care what people think, but I won't let it control my life."

Still smiling, he said, "So we can put an announcement in the paper that we're here and we're queer?"

I paused for a moment to make sure he was kidding. He was. "No. I'm still a private person, and my boss is a bigot."

"I know. I get it. And just for the record, I'm not embarrassed to be seen with a little old man like you."

I gasped. "Ouch! I suppose I deserve that after my remark about you, but . . . ouch!" I was actually kind of pleased that he felt comfortable making that joke. "I'm not little, I'm average. But when I'm standing next to you . . . well . . . and I'm not old!" I smiled.

He was grinning through all of this. "You used to think you were too old to start a relationship."

I thought about it. "I did, didn't I? And it wasn't that long ago." I felt so lucky to be with him. "I'm glad you proved me wrong about that."

"Me too, Adam. I like proving you wrong." He smiled and put more meatloaf on his plate.

***

The next day, I received a flurry of attention at work because of the newspaper article about Flora and the destruction of my garden shed. I hated it. I just wanted to get my work done, but I was forced to respond politely to words of sympathy and concern. A picture of my house accompanied the story, so I had to endure many compliments about how beautiful it was. It was terrible. Worst of all were the odd comments about a single person living in such a large house. With a pained expression I said, "Well, if my parents hadn't been killed in a car accident, they would still be living there." That put an end to that. Thanks Mom and Dad!

Donna stopped in my office to say how much her family were looking forward to dinner with us on Sunday. She didn't say a word about the article, the fire, Big Ed, or any of it. She already knew about the fire, but didn't know about Big Ed's involvement until he was charged. She made small talk and asked what I would be serving for dinner and whether she could bring anything. This started to grate on me, so I said, "You know, my garden is a crime scene."

"Yeah, the kids are gonna love that."

"Are you sure you wanna expose them to that?"

"Yeah."

"Won't they have nightmares?"

"No."

"We could reschedule for another weekend . . ."

"Nope."

She was working my last nerve. "You could at least show some concern or sympathy!"

"Oh? Do you like that sort of thing?" She trapped me.

I grumbled, "No," and settled into a slow burn.

She stood up and said, a little too cheerfully, "Okay. I'll see ya later!"

God! I really like her.

Once things settled down and I was able to close my door and get some work done, I found myself wondering why Henry hadn't stopped by. I hadn't seen him for a while. Not that I needed to see him. I was just curious. Then I heard a knock on my door. My heart did a little somersault. I don't know why. "Come in!"

Mr. Zipinski entered. Crap! "Adam, my good man. I see that you're working diligently. Very impressive, considering all the excitement you've been through." He closed the door behind him.

"Yes, well . . . my job is my first priority," I lied.

"I appreciate that. May I sit and speak with you?"

"Yes, of course. You're the boss!" That was lame! I made a fake smile.

"It's true, I am the boss. But I hope our relationship is not as formal as that."

But it is, isn't it?

"After all . . . your parents were friends of mine." He showed his greasy teeth.

I don't know about friends . . . they went to the same church.

"There are two reasons why I wanted to talk to you today, Adam. Firstly, I would like to express some concern for you, again. I learned from the article in today's newspaper that you have a social relationship with Flora O'Neill. I would simply like to caution you that she has a rather disturbing reputation in the community."

"Really? I didn't know." I had a pretty good idea what he was talking about.

"I will not go into details, because I am not one to spread gossip. Her unfortunate son, Edward, has been a social acquaintance of mine, but I would prefer not be connected with him at this time. Perhaps, if he is cleared of these charges . . ."

"Cleared?" I blurted. "I don't think he'll be cleared. He burned my shed." I probably shouldn't have said that.

He smiled awkwardly. "Well, let's allow the courts decide that, shall we? But I digress. My words of concern are merely meant to make you think about who you associate with. Far be it from me to tell people how to live their lives, but one really can't trust a woman with a scarlet reputation." He raised his bony hands in the air. "Now I've said too much. I should have stopped sooner. Satan is having his way with me."

Satan is so far up your ass, his tail is coming out of your ear! I smiled weakly.

"The second reason I'm here is to thank you for your loyalty to me, personally, and to this firm."

"Um, you're welcome. I appreciate your trust in me."

He smiled again. It was creepy. "I will be depending on your friendship in the days to come. I'm afraid there is . . . some turmoil ahead of us."

"Turmoil?"

"Yes. There are some scurrilous accusations being made against me, and I must face them bravely. The Lord has seen fit to test me. This struggle may interfere with my leadership of this firm for a while. You may be asked to take on more responsibility. Of course, there will be financial rewards for you . . . because of your loyalty." His eyes met mine and sent a chill down my spine.

I tried to sound vaguely supportive. "I will be happy to do what I can for the good of the firm. I can handle more responsibility." And I wouldn't mind a financial reward.

"I have no doubt. I'm glad that we have this understanding. I trust that you won't share this information with certain female associates." That would be Donna. "Women are so hystrionic."

"Yes. Why can't they be more like us?" God, I hate myself right now.

"Indeed. If you do need to discuss matters of importance with a trustworthy person, there is someone here at the firm who has impressed me with his intelligence and ambition. He has become a trusted advisor and a supportive friend at this difficult time."

"Really? Who is he?"

"Henry Verdorven. I believe the two of you are acquainted. He speaks highly of you."

My mouth was hanging open. "Henry . . . yes . . . we are friends. So . . . he's your trusted advisor. He hasn't been here very long, has he?"

"It is true, he is new to the firm, but I see that as an asset. He hasn't been corrupted by some of the . . . bad influences who have spread their roots here. He attended a very fine school, as I'm sure you know, and he descended from an old Dutch family that settled the colony of New York."

"Huh. I didn't know that."

"He's just an all around good chap. He reminds me of some of my fraternity brothers, although he is young enough to be my son." More like your grandson! "A wholesome young man like that would be a good friend for you. I encourage you to spend more time with him. You could be the leaders of this firm some day."

"I'm . . . nearly speechless. Thank you so much."

"Well, I've taken enough of your time, Adam. Back to the grindstone, as they say." He stood up. I think I heard his knees creak. "May I ask, how are things progressing with your sweetheart?"

"Oh! Very well, thank you. My flexible schedule has really helped."

"I'm glad to hear it. I hope you will keep that in mind during the days ahead." He opened the door.

"Uh huh. I certainly will. Thanks for stopping by."

"Good day, Adam."

"Good . . . day . . . Mr. Zipinski." I was stunned.

***

On Friday, the following day, we all received a memo announcing that Henry Verdorven would be leaving the tax department to become the first vice president at the firm, with the additional title of personnel manager, overseeing human resources. The director of human resources had submitted her resignation rather suddenly and was already gone.

The women in the office were abuzz with the news, and were generally thrilled with Henry's promotion. Donna did not share their enthusiasm. She blew into my office like a summer storm. "What the fuck is going on, Adam?"

"I don't know. I'm as surprised as you are. Close the door."

She closed the door, but didn't sit down. She was agitated. "How could he get into a position like that after being here for less than a year?"

"Zipinski is very impressed with him. He told me himself."

"When did you talk to Zipinski?"

"He was in here yesterday after you left."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I haven't had time! It all happened so fast."

"Tell me everything."

"I think Zipinski is in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"The trouble you told me about."

"But I dropped all that! I haven't talked to any of those women since Zipinski threatened me."

"I know, but I think they must have done something without involving you."

"So that's what they've been hiding from me! And they're all saying things will change for the better with Henry in that position? What the fuck? How does he figure into all of this?"

"He's very charming with the ladies."

She gave me a look. "And with some of the men!"

"Shut up. Here's the thing . . . Henry may have encouraged those women to file a formal complaint."

"But, how would he know about . . . " She glared at me. "Adam . . . what did you do?"

I was afraid now. "I may have let something slip about it."

Her eyes were boring a hole in my skull. "You may have?"

"I did. I said something. It was an accident!"

"Adam!"

"I was trying to help you! I think I did help! Zipinski is in trouble!"

"And Henry is the fucking VICE PRESIDENT!"

"Shhhh! Keep your voice down! Jesus!"

She sat down in front of my desk and narrowed her eyes. "Adam . . . you know all those times I threatened to kill you? Well, I'm not kidding anymore."

"Stop saying things like that! As a recent crime victim, I'm very sensitive."

"I'm gonna kill you right now." She looked serious.

"No you're not! You're coming to dinner on Sunday. You said nothing would interfere with that."

"God dammit!"

"Besides . . . who do you think is the best friend of the new vice president?"

"God DAMN it!"

"Henry spoke very highly of me to Zipinski, and Zipinski encouraged me to spend more time with Henry. He said he's a 'wholesome young man' and 'an all around good chap.' He said the two of us might be the leaders of this firm some day." I was very satisfied with myself, and I showed it.

Donna wasn't impressed. "He actually said that?"

"Yes!"

"And you believed him?"

"Well, yes. Why wouldn't I?"

She stared at me. "Because he's a lying, hypocritical son of a bitch."

Oh yeah. "Yes, but . . . it could happen."

"And you could start farting marshmallows."

"Oh, Sam would love that."

That caught her off guard, and she smiled in spite of her anger and frustration with me. "Adam . . . I love you, but you are one of the most infuriating people I have ever dealt with."

"I know. I feel the same way about myself. I'm sorry."

"If this blows up in your face, I will be the first in line to say I told you so."

"Well, duh! I think I knew that."

"And if I lose my job, I will kill you. And then Kevin will kill you a second time."

"You really need to stop making death threats. They're just not effective anymore." She made a sudden move forward and I nearly jumped out of my chair. "Aah! Don't do that!"

"Not effective anymore, huh?" She stood up.

I cowered in my chair, guarding my head with my hands. "Don't damage my face. I just started to like it."

"What time are we supposed to be there on Sunday?"

"I dunno. Five?"

"We'll be there at four."

"Okay. I can't wait."

"Me neither. I need to talk to Sam."

I didn't like the sound of that.

***

I really enjoyed working alone on Saturdays. I could dress casually, there were no interruptions from co-workers, and I got a lot done. Some people would see it as an opportunity to screw around all day and get paid, but I had deadlines to meet, and I liked being productive. And I could talk to myself out loud. Some of my best conversations were with my self, despite our frequent arguments.

On that particular Saturday, I was fully absorbed in my work. I had become accustomed to the noises the building made when there were no other sounds to block them out, so I was startled when I heard unfamiliar clunks and clicks. A door opened and closed. Someone else was in the building. I looked around for something to use as a weapon just in case it was a burglar. I chose a three-hole punch, but when I grabbed it and held it up, a handful of those little paper dots fell on my desk, my lap, and the floor. I stood up and cursed myself quietly. "Fuck me!"

"What was that?" I jumped. It was Henry.

I almost repeated myself, but stopped just in time. "God! You scared me!"

"Sorry. And you don't need to call me 'God.' Henry is fine."

"What? I didn't . . . I meant . . . okay, I get it now . . . a joke. What are you doing here?"

"I was out cycling and I saw your big-ass truck in the parking lot, so I thought I'd pay a visit." He smiled that sparkly white smile of his. He was wearing a skin-tight green cycling jersey and matching shorts that revealed more about his body than I wanted to know. He grasped the top of the door frame and stretched himself in the opening. "I haven't seen you for a while, my friend! How are you?"

"I'm okay. Fine. Everything's fine. How are you?" He looked fit as a fiddle.

"Pretty good! Things are going well for me. I assume you heard the news . . ." He entered my office.

"Oh! Yes! Of course! Congratulations! I was stunned . . . and happy . . . for you. I mean . . . vice president . . . wow!"

"Yeah, thanks! I wish I could have been here yesterday to tell you myself, but I had to meet with Zipinsky and his lawyer for most of the day." He looked at the floor. "It looks like you were throwing confetti around to celebrate."

I looked down. "Oh, that. No, I just made a mess." I brushed the paper dots off my clothing.

His eyes examined me like an airport security booth. "Look at you in your shorts and t-shirt! I like the casual look on you. Nice legs, dude! Have you been working out?"

"Huh, what? My . . . I . . . I run . . . I do some exercise . . . stuff." I sat down awkwardly in my desk chair.

"Well it's paying off, Adam. You're seriously hot, now."

"Upfff! Not . . . no . . . I don't . . ."

"No, seriously." He sat down on the corner of my desk, too close for comfort, with his knees far apart. I didn't know where to look. "I can really see the difference. You look younger."

"Awf! Really? I mean I feel . . . I'm . . . thank you, I appreciate it. So tell me about your promotion. How did you manage that?"

"I owe it all to you, buddy, and that won't be forgotten. That info you gave me about Zipinski's bad behavior was exactly what I needed. I knew it would make him vulnerable, so I gave him a heads-up and I was there when he needed a friend and advisor." As he talked, he was stretching his triceps behind his head. "I've never charmed anyone as repulsive as Zipinski before. I'm really at the top of my game. And if those ladies get a settlement out of him for sexual harassment, that's good, too." He placed his hands on his thighs and stroked them casually. There was something between his legs that I did my best to ignore.

"That's really cool that you would encourage those women to file complaints. You did a good thing."

He nodded. "Yeah, sure. Hey do you have anything to eat in here? All I had for breakfast was a spoonful of chia seeds."

"No, sorry. I already ate my sandwich."

"I'll be right back." He stood up and walked into the area outside my office where various staff members worked. When I rested my hand on the desk, I felt a damp warmth and realized it was the spot where he had been sitting. I pulled my arm back and saw the shape of my hand in the middle of an imprint of his ass. He returned holding an apple and sat on my hand print while I rubbed his perspiration onto the front of my t-shirt.

"Where'd you get that?"

"Off someone's desk." He started polishing the apple against his well formed chest, then rubbed the other side against his firm right thigh. "Do you want a taste?"

"No, thanks. I don't like to eat other people's food."

He took a bite and smiled while he chewed. I noticed that there was no hair on his arms or legs. His tanned skin had the same smooth sheen as his green spandex garments. "You really are one of those guys, aren't you?"

"One of what guys?"

"A good guy. A person of moral character." His smile was disconcerting.

"I try to be. I don't think I'm that good."

"Then why keep trying? Live a little." He took another bite of the apple and slurped some juice off the heel of his hand.

"I am living. I don't think I'm missing anything."

"Are you sure about that?" He looked right into my eyes and kept smiling. He shifted his hips and spread his knees just a little bit wider. I couldn't help but notice a growing bulge.

I squirmed and cleared my throat. "My life is better than ever. I'm happy."

"You can always be happier. I'd like to help. You could learn a lot from me, Adam." He was about to take another bite, then stopped and extended his hand. "Are you sure you don't want a bite of this? It's very juicy."

Jeez! "Alright . . . I'll try it." Just to shut him up. I took the apple from his hand and looked at it. I don't wanna eat the part he slobbered on, but if I obviously avoid it, he might be offended. Oh, what the hell . . . I bit off a chunk and chewed. "Wow! This is good." I continued chewing. "I wonder what kind of apple this is. I need to buy some of these."

"See . . . you were missing something." He smirked.

I answered him with my own crooked smile. "Okay. You were right." I held up the apple.

"You can finish it. I'm full." He leaned back and put his palms flat on the desk top. Veins grew out of his wrists and branched up to his elegant biceps.

I took another bite and allowed my eyes to travel over his sinuous body. He noticed. "There isn't an ounce of fat on you, is there? You must work out constantly."

"If sex counts, then the answer is yes."

I looked at the lengthening bulge in his crotch, then met his eyes. "So, what would I have to do to get a promotion around here?"

His expression revealed a hint of surprise. "That depends. How much can you handle?"

"Oh, I can handle a lot. And I work very hard. But I have one condition." I ate more of the apple.

"A condition? Like, what?"

I paused. "My friend, Donna . . . her job has to be secure." Again, there was a flicker in his eyes. This was unexpected.

"You don't need to worry about her. All the women in the office are safe. If any of them were fired now, it would look like retaliation."

I smiled. "That's good to know." I nibbled the apple down to the core. "When will I get more responsibility and more money?"

He leaned forward. I was messing with his seduction. "Well . . . depending on what happens to Zipinski, that could happen. He talked to you, didn't he?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He said I should spend more time with you. I told him we were already friends."

He smiled and leaned back again, flexing his hips. "Okay. That's what I wanted to hear."

His erection had grown longer, but I noticed how thin it was. Pencil dick. I threw the apple core into my waste basket. "I'm looking forward to a good working relationship with you, Henry. I want us to be friends." I rested my hand just above his knee and squeezed gently. "I think you should go, now. I need to finish this work."

"What?" He sat up straight. "You want me to leave?" His expression was priceless.

"Yeah, I'm here to work. This is your day off. You should go home."

"But . . . but . . . don't you wanna . . . ?"

"What?"

"Don't you wanna fuck?"

"With you? No! Is that what you were expecting?" I was good at playing dumb. "Oh, my goodness! My boyfriend keeps telling me how naive I am . . . I guess he's right. I'm sorry! I'm so stupid! But, no . . . that's out of the question. You know I'm in a committed relationship. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking we were gonna fuck, finally!"

"But that's a terrible idea! Especially now that you have some authority here, and with these harassment complaints . . . do you realize how this might look to other people? Oh, my goodness!" I was laying it on thick.

"Well, nobody would have to know."

"But, what about the security cameras?" I waved my finger around in a circle.

He put his hands over his crotch. "Are there cameras in here?!"

There were no cameras. "Don't all these buildings have them?"

"Fuck!" He jumped off the desk.

"There's no need to panic, Henry. I won't tell anyone you were trying to seduce me. I'm really flattered, by the way. I can't wait to brag to my boyfriend."

"No! You can't!"

"Oh, right! What was I thinking? Gosh, all these secrets! It's a good thing we're friends or my conscience would bother me."

He was pacing back and forth. He had a well-shaped ass, but there were paper dots stuck to it. "Listen, Adam . . . I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. I was joking about the fucking, okay?"

"Oh! What a relief! Not that I would mind plugging that ass of yours, but . . ."

"Stop it! That's not funny! I shouldn't have come in here." He raked his fingers through his hair.

"Okay. Well, thanks for stopping by. And congratulations, again. I look forward to working with you more closely. We should do lunch again one of these days."

"Yeah, sure. I'm counting on you, Adam! I can't blow this opportunity. Once I've had this title for a while I'll have a better chance of getting out of this shit hole. If you help me, I'll help you. That's the way things work in business."

"Is it? Wow! I'm learning already. You can count on me, Henry. You pat my ass, and I'll pat your . . . wait . . . that's not how that expression goes, is it?"

"I have to go." He darted out of my office. I heard a door close.

I sat down and spun around in my chair. That was fun! So Henry had been trying to seduce me all along. Sam and Donna were right about that. I was naive. Do I have to tell them? I'd better not. They'll both wanna kill him. I still wasn't convinced that Henry was all bad. Maybe, underneath his Machiavellian skin, he's just insecure like the rest of us. One way or another, it would be better for me to have him as a friend rather than an enemy. And now that I had something to use against him, I didn't need to trust him.

I licked my lips. I need to find out what kind of apple that was.

***

When I got home, I was surprised to see Sam's truck in the driveway. The back door of the house was open, and I found him in the kitchen putting spray cheese on a cracker and popping it in his mouth. He smiled and made a noise that was some kind of greeting.

"You're home early."

He finished chewing and swallowing. "Yeah, it wasn't too busy, so Dave sent me home. He says 'Hi' and wants to know why you never come to see him anymore. I told him you get all your stuff at Home Depot now."

"Don't say that! He'll have a stroke."

"You should have seen his face, even though he knew I was kidding. I love that guy."

"What?! Should I fly into a jealous rage?" I playfully squeezed one of his pecs.

"No, that's my act. Get your own material." He pulled me into a hug and gave me a cheesy kiss. Literally cheesy. He sniffed at me and made a face.

"What?"

"What's that smell? He sniffed my t-shirt. "You smell different. What were you doing?"

"Nothing. Just working. Why? Do I smell bad?" Is it Henry?

"My buddy Greg would say, 'You smell like ass.' He's always saying that."

I raised an eyebrow. "He sounds like quite a wit."

"He's cool. He's my bro!" Now it was my turn to make a face. "But seriously . . . you don't smell like yourself."

"I must have brushed up against something."

"Or someone?" He squinted at me to show he was kidding. "So, what's for dinner?"

"Do you wanna go out somewhere?"

"Together? In public?"

"Yes, together! We've done it before."

"Not at a restaurant. How many dinners can I order?" I hadn't thought about that. "I'm just kidding. I don't have to pig out every night. I need to watch my figure."

I smiled. "It's a nice figure to watch. I'll go change my shirt and get this smell off me."

"Good! Then I can mark you with my scent." He bit his lower lip and rubbed his crotch against my hip. "I need to change, too. I'll meet you in the driveway."

I started heading for the front of the house. "How about Mexican food?"

"Hell yes! I love it!" I walked through the dining room. He yelled out, "I can't believe we're gonna make out at a restaurant!"

I laughed to myself. As I walked up the stairs, I pulled the front of my shirt up to my nose. I couldn't smell anything. Could he really smell Henry on me? I should tell him about Henry's visit. I have nothing to hide. I'll find a good time to tell him. It's better to wait for the right time.

*****
Continued in: Part 21

Postscript: Once again, I really appreciate comments and thanks, no matter how repetitive. I need feedback to sustain my momentum. Your diligence with the Thank You button on Part 19 added 101 paragraphs to the story! Well done! And it only takes a second.

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Old February 8th, 2014, 08:57 PM
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Verdorven, seriously!

Normally I just read and lurk, but really, that just wanted me to praise you and this incredibly awesome story.

PS I'm so hoping that Henry's obit one day will read "bedorven".
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Old February 8th, 2014, 09:22 PM
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Another awesome chapter! Every time I log on here and see a new addition, it's a race to push the mouse and click and start reading. My addiction to Reeza and "The Gardener" is one I don't mind admitting.
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Old February 9th, 2014, 04:17 AM
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*Vanellope voice* iloveitiloveitiloveitiloveit!
Sam and Adam are so cute I want to pinch their cheeks.

And Adam, tell Sam now, you know that 'later' it will be much more awkward!

Hmm, Sam shaping up to be a super-hero, he got the super-strength, that growing thing, and now a super-smell. Can't wait to see how that's gonna turn out.
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Old February 9th, 2014, 05:46 AM
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Wow. Just...wow.

I feel as though I've just come from a very productive session with my therapist. I laughed, I cried, I was a little sick at my stomach for a bit. Emotionally drained, and exhilarated at the same time.

The kitchen scene...whipping the potatoes...feeling him standing close...and then the hug...amazing tension. I held my breath and then, tears.

Thank you.
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Old February 9th, 2014, 08:59 AM
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I rarely post but I must say I look forward to each chapter.
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Old February 9th, 2014, 10:47 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Reeza View Post
My thoughts would go on like that for hours, but none of those questions would be answered. I did what any normal person would do after an argument. I dusted everything in the house. I mopped the floors. I used a manicure scissors to remove every brown leaf from every frond of the ferns in the living room, then worried that I had killed them. I cried for five minutes. I took everything out of the freezer and put it all back in a more pleasing arrangement. I checked the attic for rat droppings and squirrel damage, but found none. I got on the internet to read an article about carpenter ants. I prepared the meatloaf and put it in the refrigerator. And then I polished the light bulbs in all the lamps and chandeliers. It was a productive afternoon. I was perfectly fine.
OO-OH, CEE CAN YOU DEEEE..... Right. Perfectlyfine.

Have I mentioned that this would be a great TV series?

Another part that had me cackling out loud, everything between this:

Quote:
Originally Posted by Reeza View Post
His erection had grown longer, but I noticed how thin it was. Pencil dick. I threw the apple core into my waste basket. "I'm looking forward to a good working relationship with you, Henry. I want us to be friends." I rested my hand just above his knee and squeezed gently. "I think you should go, now. I need to finish this work."
and this:

Quote:
Originally Posted by Reeza View Post
I licked my lips. I need to find out what kind of apple that was.
I originally thought movie, but no, this needs the relaxed pace of television.

You know I'm casting this in my head, right? Benedick Cumberbatch for Adam. He can do the 'lean but somewhat attractive' look and then build up to the hotter Adam easily enough. Only finding someone big enough to be Sam... not easy. Good actors with the genetics of the Hulk are hard to find.
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Old February 9th, 2014, 12:36 PM
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I was kinda hoping Henry had a bit more in the downstairs department, don't know why though... maybe it's the whole bad boy thing. Anyhow, I was near to tears with the apology scene. God I could even feel the heat and breath in my neck.
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Old February 9th, 2014, 03:29 PM
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BEST Biblical reference yet!

............He returned holding an apple and sat on my hand print while I rubbed his perspiration onto the front of my t-shirt.

"Where'd you get that?"

"Off someone's desk." ["From the tree in the middle of the garden. The tree with the fruit with the knowledge of good and evil."] He started polishing the apple against his well formed chest, then rubbed the other side against his firm right thigh. "Do you want a taste?"

"No, thanks. I don't like to eat other people's food." ["Get thee behind me, Satan!"]

He took a bite and smiled while he chewed. I noticed that there was no hair on his arms or legs. His tanned skin had the same smooth sheen as his green spandex garments. "You really are one of those guys, aren't you?"

"One of what guys?"

"A good guy. A person of moral character." His smile was disconcerting. ["His face shown with the radiance of the sun. He was the son of the morning star."]
"I try to be. I don't think I'm that good."

"Then why keep trying? Live a little." He took another bite of the apple and slurped some juice off the heel of his hand.

["Here, just try a taste. No one has to know."]

"I am living. I don't think I'm missing anything."

"Are you sure about that?" He looked right into my eyes and kept smiling. He shifted his hips and spread his knees just a little bit wider. I couldn't help but notice a growing bulge.

I squirmed and cleared my throat. "My life is better than ever. I'm happy."

"You can always be happier. I'd like to help. You could learn a lot from me, Adam." He was about to take another bite, then stopped and extended his hand. "Are you sure you don't want a bite of this? It's very juicy."

["Just a little bite from the fruit of the tree with the knowledge of good and evil. You can be like G-d, Adam."]

Jeez! "Alright . . . I'll try it." Just to shut him up. I took the apple from his hand and looked at it. I don't wanna eat the part he slobbered on, but if I obviously avoid it, he might be offended. Oh, what the hell . . . I bit off a chunk and chewed. "Wow! This is good." I continued chewing. "I wonder what kind of apple this is. I need to buy some of these."

"See . . . you were missing something." He smirked.

I answered him with my own crooked smile. "Okay. You were right." I held up the apple.

"You can finish it. I'm full." He leaned back and put his palms flat on the desk top. Veins grew out of his wrists and branched up to his elegant biceps.

I took another bite and allowed my eyes to travel over his sinuous body. He noticed. "There isn't an ounce of fat on you, is there? You must work out constantly."

"If sex counts, then the answer is yes."

I looked at the lengthening bulge in his crotch, then met his eyes. "So, what would I have to do to get a promotion around here?"

His expression revealed a hint of surprise. "That depends. How much can you handle?"

"Oh, I can handle a lot. And I work very hard. But I have one condition." I ate more of the apple.

"A condition? Like, what?"

I paused. "My friend, Donna . . . her job has to be secure." Again, there was a flicker in his eyes. This was unexpected.

"You don't need to worry about her. All the women in the office are safe. If any of them were fired now, it would look like retaliation."

I smiled. "That's good to know." I nibbled the apple down to the core. "When will I get more responsibility and more money?"

He leaned forward. I was messing with his seduction. "Well . . . depending on what happens to Zipinski, that could happen. He talked to you, didn't he?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He said I should spend more time with you. I told him we were already friends."

He smiled and leaned back again, flexing his hips. "Okay. That's what I wanted to hear."

His erection had grown longer, but I noticed how thin it was. Pencil dick. I threw the apple core into my waste basket. "I'm looking forward to a good working relationship with you, Henry. I want us to be friends." I rested my hand just above his knee and squeezed gently. "I think you should go, now. I need to finish this work."

"What?" He sat up straight. "You want me to leave?" His expression was priceless.

["'NO?' What do you mean 'No?'!!]

"Yeah, I'm here to work. This is your day off. You should go home."

"But . . . but . . . don't you wanna . . . ?"

"What?"

"Don't you wanna fuck?"

"With you? No! Is that what you were expecting?" I was good at playing dumb. "Oh, my goodness! My boyfriend keeps telling me how naive I am . . . I guess he's right. I'm sorry! I'm so stupid! But, no . . . that's out of the question. You know I'm in a committed relationship. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking we were gonna fuck, finally!"

"But that's a terrible idea! Especially now that you have some authority here, and with these harassment complaints . . . do you realize how this might look to other people? Oh, my goodness!" I was laying it on thick.

"Well, nobody would have to know."

"But, what about the security cameras?" I waved my finger around in a circle.

He put his hands over his crotch. "Are there cameras in here?!"

There were no cameras. "Don't all these buildings have them?"

"Fuck!" He jumped off the desk.

"There's no need to panic, Henry. I won't tell anyone you were trying to seduce me. I'm really flattered, by the way. I can't wait to brag to my boyfriend."

"No! You can't!"

"Oh, right! What was I thinking? Gosh, all these secrets! It's a good thing we're friends or my conscience would bother me."

He was pacing back and forth. He had a well-shaped ass, but there were paper dots stuck to it. "Listen, Adam . . . I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. I was joking about the fucking, okay?"

"Oh! What a relief! Not that I would mind plugging that ass of yours, but . . ."

"Stop it! That's not funny! I shouldn't have come in here." He raked his fingers through his hair.

"Okay. Well, thanks for stopping by. And congratulations, again. I look forward to working with you more closely. We should do lunch again one of these days."

["When Hell freezes over, you c-nt!"]
"Yeah, sure. I'm counting on you, Adam! I can't blow this opportunity. Once I've had this title for a while I'll have a better chance of getting out of this shit hole. If you help me, I'll help you. That's the way things work in business."

"Is it? Wow! I'm learning already. You can count on me, Henry. You pat my ass, and I'll pat your . . . wait . . . that's not how that expression goes, is it?"

"I have to go." He darted out of my office. I heard a door close.

I sat down and spun around in my chair. That was fun! So Henry had been trying to seduce me all along. Sam and Donna were right about that. I was naive. Do I have to tell them? I'd better not. They'll both wanna kill him. I still wasn't convinced that Henry was all bad. Maybe, underneath his Machiavellian skin, he's just insecure like the rest of us. One way or another, it would be better for me to have him as a friend rather than an enemy. And now that I had something to use against him, I didn't need to trust him.

I licked my lips. I need to find out what kind of apple that was. ["And my eyes were opened, and I knew myself for what I was....."]
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Old February 9th, 2014, 03:52 PM
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Bravo!

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["And my eyes were opened, and I knew myself for what I was....."]
Excellent comparison of the texts, Mdlftr! I'm pleased to know that was appreciated. I assume you also understood why Henry was clothed in green spandex.
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Old February 9th, 2014, 06:12 PM
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Excellent comparison of the texts, Mdlftr! I'm pleased to know that was appreciated. I assume you also understood why Henry was clothed in green spandex.
I giggled but the green spandex was completely unnecessary. Adam, apple, Henry (who we already have been told is a snake)... I enjoyed the brief Biblical interlude. Though Adam will get in trouble for stealing someone's apple since it's in his trash can (and he DID eat some of it).
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Old February 9th, 2014, 07:17 PM
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Excellent comparison of the texts, Mdlftr! I'm pleased to know that was appreciated. I assume you also understood why Henry was clothed in green spandex.
Yes, Martinp13 has beaten me to the punch with the first description.

This one, of course, REALLY nailed it:

"I took another bite and allowed my eyes to travel over his sinuous body. He noticed."

Does he have scales?


BTW, Reeza, I want to compliment you back and say how much I have enjoyed and am enjoying your literary references throughout your story! "Epic of Gilgamesh" "The Bible" "Tess of the D'Urbervilles" ....the list goes on!

It really makes me appreciate all those wonderful English lit classes over the years.

I hope you DON'T end up referencing "Death in Venice" or, cinematically, "Gods and Monsters"!

You really are a challenging, enjoyable writer!

Mdlftr

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Old February 10th, 2014, 07:09 PM
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Verdorven, seriously!

Normally I just read and lurk, but really, that just wanted me to praise you and this incredibly awesome story.

PS I'm so hoping that Henry's obit one day will read "bedorven".


According to Bing translator "bedorven" means "corrupted"

"Verdorven" means "depraved"


Bedankt to Reeza,

(I think)
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Old February 10th, 2014, 07:27 PM
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According to Bing translator "bedorven" means "corrupted"

"Verdorven" means "depraved"

Bedankt to Reeza,

(I think)
Wow, Mdlftr! You're really going for extra credit on this chapter. I can tell you went to Catholic school. Come by after class and I'll give you a glow-in-the-dark rosary.

Yes, Verdorven means depraved, corrupt, perverse, vicious, or sinful. Just in case Henry's character wasn't clearly defined.
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Old February 10th, 2014, 08:09 PM
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suske
Bedorven I think is best translated as rotten, when things pass their sell by date. Verdorven mostly means depraved.

Gosh my mum used to have one of those glow in the dark rosaries. Loved to play with that. Had completely forgotten about those.

Anyroad, am I the only one that is picking up/believing that Adam is growing as well? I would rather love to read he'd be having problems wearing his favourite clothes...

As said before, erg bedankt Reeza! Cannot wait for the next chapter, as it is genuinely well written, funny, dare I say hilarious at times, and warming the cockles of my heart.
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Old February 12th, 2014, 04:28 AM
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Damn...I'm just Reezadicted!!!
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Old February 13th, 2014, 09:13 AM
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Wow, Mdlftr! You're really going for extra credit on this chapter. I can tell you went to Catholic school. Come by after class and I'll give you a glow-in-the-dark rosary.

Yes, Verdorven means depraved, corrupt, perverse, vicious, or sinful. Just in case Henry's character wasn't clearly defined.
Could I have a saint's medal or holy card instead?

I'd like Saint Sebastian, patron saint of athletes! (and other things: http://www.catholic-saints.info/patr...f-athletes.htm )

I figure it's the closest you can get to bodybuilders!

Thank you, Father Reeza!
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Old February 13th, 2014, 10:24 AM
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Making good on my threat to actually comment even when it's all been said before.

Thank you for another wonderful installment. I enjoyed the power play between Henry and Adam immensely. I like Henry's character. Not Henry himself, he's a tool, but the way he's written.

I also think Sam's temper tantrum when they argue is adorable. But then I would happily read a whole part with nothing but A Day In The Life of Sam.
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Old February 13th, 2014, 08:43 PM
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Peeing in my pants, I'm so excited!

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Making good on my threat to actually comment even when it's all been said before.

Thank you for another wonderful installment. I enjoyed the power play between Henry and Adam immensely. I like Henry's character. Not Henry himself, he's a tool, but the way he's written.

I also think Sam's temper tantrum when they argue is adorable. But then I would happily read a whole part with nothing but A Day In The Life of Sam.
Oh my God! Demandred commented! Where are my smelling salts? I believe I have a case of the vapours. (clunk)

I'm glad you liked the temper tantrum. I enjoyed writing that. I wish I could follow Sam for a whole day, but Adam would have to be with him to narrate. No matter how I try to write about Sam, he always comes across as adorable. (Not unlike your character, Kane.) Sometimes I think I love my characters too much to make them look bad.
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Old February 21st, 2014, 08:05 PM
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Shameless plug:

I hate bumping my own threads, but a full week without comments from readers makes me a little nervous. I plan to post the next part this weekend, so I want to make sure all my regular readers are up-to-date on this part.
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Old February 21st, 2014, 08:51 PM
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I hate bumping my own threads, but a full week without comments from readers makes me a little nervous. I plan to post the next part this weekend, so I want to make sure all my regular readers are up-to-date on this part.
Have Faith!

Your faithful readers are holding vigil. It is the pre-Lenten denial of the next installment that is preparing and strengthening us for the trials that lie ahead.

"Holy Sam the muscular, pray for us"
"Holy Adam the neurotic, pray for us"

"All you denizens of 'The Gardener' pray for us."

*swings censer*


AKA "Thurible" http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/VINTAGE-AN...-/380702932135

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Old February 21st, 2014, 09:21 PM
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Never be nervous! Your an amazing writer and we cannot wait for what you've written next.
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Old February 21st, 2014, 09:21 PM
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Reeza, I have learned to be patient with you and I know that you will be writing another engrossing and delightful installment to your wonderful story, or am I being presumptuous? Sam and Adam are maturing in their relationship and I appreciate that a great deal. I'm almost certain that Sam will continue to grow more muscular, sculpting his already imposing body to even more colossal proportions, with greater confidence, to Adam's delight. And Adam will sharpen his social skills, even though it seems that Sam, at his age, has more social intelligence than he does. But it all comes with time and experience, doesn't it? A bientot, j'espere . . .
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Old February 24th, 2014, 03:45 PM
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Sorry, I'm running behind. As I think I've mentioned before, although I can't ever wait to read another chapter, I want to devote the proper time to reading and thoroughly enjoying it, which usually means I'm behind. I mean, part 21 is already up and I just finished 20. The chapters are so long (NOT a complaint!). My two comments for this chapter are: mdlftr did a much better job commenting on the Biblical reference, so I won't say more (see what being behind does?); and every time I thought to myself, 'This is the best line,' I came upon another one. There were so many great lines! Thank you for another amazing chapter!
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Old February 24th, 2014, 09:39 PM
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"All you denizens of 'The Gardener' pray for us."

*swings censer*

AKA "Thurible" http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/VINTAGE-AN...-/380702932135
"That's a thurible joke," said Daffy.
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Old February 25th, 2014, 05:36 AM
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"That's a thurible joke," said Daffy.
"Makes Cense to me, Daffy" said Bugs.
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