he find the scar repellent? Rich North had always felt immortal, that nothing could topple him, and yes he'd fought off a gunshot wound and lived to tell about it, so wouldn't that reinforce his notion? For the first time since he'd been told he would be fine, he felt anything but.
Quickly he buttoned up, then made his way out of the doctor's office and into the bright sunshine of the day. Checking his watch, he saw that it was just after one o'clock and almost on cue his stomach growled. The Wonderland Medical Center was located at the far end of Down Wonder, the so-called downtown area of his hometown. He left his car in the parking lot and started down the sidewalk, making his way to the Mad Hatter, the local pub, which had a placard placed on its front patio advertising brunch. Endless mimosas or Bloody Marys.
“Perfect. Just what I need,” he said earnestly, and soon found himself sitting outside with the first of his juicy, bubbly beverages at his side. The waitress had taken his order for eggs, French toast and link sausages, and then he sighed with contentment. Tossing on sunglasses, they helped cut the glare of the hard mid-day sun, gave him a better view of the laid-back activity on Main Street. Yes, this was perfect. . . well almost, all he was missing was Marc at his side, that would have been perfect.
Taking out his cell phone, he dialed Marc on impulse, got voicemail.
“Hey, it's me, just out of the doctor's visit. . . he was good enough to see me on a Sunday, since he plays golf on Mondays, and, well, all is good. I'm enjoying brunch at the Mad Hatter, if you want. . . well, I'm sure you're busy, nevermind, forget I called,” he said, ending the call suddenly. Why was it so difficult for him to ask his lover to join him for a meal? Where was his confidence? He'd always been able to talk to Marc about anything. . . almost anything. The issue of Parker St. John still divided them, what Rich had done the night of the gallery opening. He downed the remnants of his mimosa and the waitress immediately replaced it with a fresh one. Keep that up, she'd get a good tip.
That's when he noticed that he wasn't going to be alone on the outdoor patio, two new people were making their way from the sidewalk to the restaurant and damned if he didn't have to resist the urge to get up and confront them. Danvers Converse, and at his side. . . Lauren Healy. The uncertainty he had felt while leaving the message for Marc washed over him again. Their arrival had ruined his otherwise genial mood, and he felt his eyes darkening at the sight of the pathetic little man. Didn't Lauren have too much class to be with this creep?
“Rich. . . my goodness, hi,” Lauren said, coming over to his table. “So good to see you up and about. . . you know, after. . .”
“Yeah, I know. Kind of hard not to,” Rich said.
Lauren, as though sensing his hostility, looked first at Danvers, then back at Rich. “Uh, it's not what you think. . ..”
“I don't know what to think anymore, Lauren.”
“It's just business,” she said, as though those empty words explained it all.
“Not with me, it's not,” he said through clenched teeth, sunglasses removed, his dark eyes focused on Danvers’ ugly, pug face. “Are you proud of yourself, Danvers? All the fucking damage you've caused? Your relentless pursuit of our homes and your need to fulfill some sick notion of revenge, look what it has wrought. One of our neighbors. . . our friends, is dead.”
“As is one of my associates,” Danvers said.
“Yeah, because you pulled him in front of you as a shield,” Rich said. “Well guess what, you chicken shit fuck, there's no one left to protect you, not from any of us. Trust me, Eldon Court will remain with all of its present owners—I won't allow you to win, neither will any of our neighbors.”
“Does that include Mr. St. John?”
“Parker can suck my cock for all I care about him.”
Danvers raised his eyebrows. “A telling
Quickly he buttoned up, then made his way out of the doctor's office and into the bright sunshine of the day. Checking his watch, he saw that it was just after one o'clock and almost on cue his stomach growled. The Wonderland Medical Center was located at the far end of Down Wonder, the so-called downtown area of his hometown. He left his car in the parking lot and started down the sidewalk, making his way to the Mad Hatter, the local pub, which had a placard placed on its front patio advertising brunch. Endless mimosas or Bloody Marys.
“Perfect. Just what I need,” he said earnestly, and soon found himself sitting outside with the first of his juicy, bubbly beverages at his side. The waitress had taken his order for eggs, French toast and link sausages, and then he sighed with contentment. Tossing on sunglasses, they helped cut the glare of the hard mid-day sun, gave him a better view of the laid-back activity on Main Street. Yes, this was perfect. . . well almost, all he was missing was Marc at his side, that would have been perfect.
Taking out his cell phone, he dialed Marc on impulse, got voicemail.
“Hey, it's me, just out of the doctor's visit. . . he was good enough to see me on a Sunday, since he plays golf on Mondays, and, well, all is good. I'm enjoying brunch at the Mad Hatter, if you want. . . well, I'm sure you're busy, nevermind, forget I called,” he said, ending the call suddenly. Why was it so difficult for him to ask his lover to join him for a meal? Where was his confidence? He'd always been able to talk to Marc about anything. . . almost anything. The issue of Parker St. John still divided them, what Rich had done the night of the gallery opening. He downed the remnants of his mimosa and the waitress immediately replaced it with a fresh one. Keep that up, she'd get a good tip.
That's when he noticed that he wasn't going to be alone on the outdoor patio, two new people were making their way from the sidewalk to the restaurant and damned if he didn't have to resist the urge to get up and confront them. Danvers Converse, and at his side. . . Lauren Healy. The uncertainty he had felt while leaving the message for Marc washed over him again. Their arrival had ruined his otherwise genial mood, and he felt his eyes darkening at the sight of the pathetic little man. Didn't Lauren have too much class to be with this creep?
“Rich. . . my goodness, hi,” Lauren said, coming over to his table. “So good to see you up and about. . . you know, after. . .”
“Yeah, I know. Kind of hard not to,” Rich said.
Lauren, as though sensing his hostility, looked first at Danvers, then back at Rich. “Uh, it's not what you think. . ..”
“I don't know what to think anymore, Lauren.”
“It's just business,” she said, as though those empty words explained it all.
“Not with me, it's not,” he said through clenched teeth, sunglasses removed, his dark eyes focused on Danvers’ ugly, pug face. “Are you proud of yourself, Danvers? All the fucking damage you've caused? Your relentless pursuit of our homes and your need to fulfill some sick notion of revenge, look what it has wrought. One of our neighbors. . . our friends, is dead.”
“As is one of my associates,” Danvers said.
“Yeah, because you pulled him in front of you as a shield,” Rich said. “Well guess what, you chicken shit fuck, there's no one left to protect you, not from any of us. Trust me, Eldon Court will remain with all of its present owners—I won't allow you to win, neither will any of our neighbors.”
“Does that include Mr. St. John?”
“Parker can suck my cock for all I care about him.”
Danvers raised his eyebrows. “A telling
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