In the background, I could hear Melvin saying “yes sir,” and “right away, sir,” while whoever was on the other end of the phone did most of the talking. I felt sympathy for poor Melvin. Of course someone so obsequious on the job wanted to be the boss in the bedroom. It wasn’t his fault that he was too sweet to actual y hurt someone.
I’ve been seeing Melvin every month for almost a year now. Sometimes, we even do phone sessions.
Melvin’s about five feet, seven inches tal and thin as a rail. I think he likes me because I’m one of the few guys he’s bigger than.
A few minutes later, Melvin returned. He cautiously took off my blindfold and gag, and stood before me in a black leather harness and chaps with no pants underneath. His smal ish penis quivered.
“I’m back, boy. You better beg me not to hurt you.”
“Oh, please, sir, please don’t punish me,” I said. “I know I’ve been a bad boy, but I’m sorry, sir. I promise I’l be better.” I tried to act frightened, but probably just sounded whiny.
“Sorry, boy, but it looks like a spanking for you.”
Melvin untied me and laid me over his lap. He brought a hand down on my ass so softly that I barely felt it. “That’s not too hard, is it?” Melvin whispered, breaking character for a moment.
I fought hard not to giggle. Giggling was definitely a mood kil er. “That’s just right,” I whispered back.
“Good, then here’s another one!” he shouted.
This one was even gentler. “Ow!” I cried.
“That’l teach you,” Melvin said.
“Please, sir, no more, no more!”
After a few more faked pleas and ten more soft slaps, I felt a sticky wetness on my bel y as Melvin ejaculated.
“You’re such a good boy,” Melvin beamed as he stuffed a generous tip into my palm. “I have a lot of meetings with my boss this week. Maybe I could cal you in the next few days?”
“Anytime,” I told him.
Outside, the air was a humid fog that covered everything like a wet blanket. Thanks to Melvin’s quickness on the draw, it wasn’t even 7:00.1 stil had the whole evening to… wel, I’d figure that out after I got home.
There were no cabs, so I walked over to a nearby hotel, where taxis always waited.
I turned on my phone and hooked up my Bluetooth headset. It always makes it look like I’m talking to myself, but in New York, that’s not uncommon. Even the crazies avoided me.
The first message, from my mother, I skipped.
That made three. I would cal her as soon as I got through the others.
The second was from the woman in the law office.
She told me she would be in her office late and that I should cal anytime.
I hit the cal back button.
“Susan Oliver here.”
“Yes, Ms. Oliver, this is Kevin Connor returning your cal.”
“Mr. Connor!” Ms. Oliver sounded very happy to hear from me. “Thank goodness. You were last on my list, and the reading is tomorrow.”
“The reading?”
“Of the wil.”
“What wil?”
“Al en Harrington’s wil,” she said as if explaining herself to a three-year-old. “He died, you know. Quite tragic.” Then, “Oh dear, I hope I wasn’t the one to break it to you.”
“Oh no, I was there the night he was murdered.”
“Murdered?” she sounded confused.
“It’s a long story.”
“In any case, there is a bequest to you in the wil, and you are required to be there.”
“Required?” I asked.
“Mr. Harrington left specific instructions as to whom he wanted in attendance.”
“Who?”
“I’m afraid I can’t release that information. May I count on your coming?”
Ms. Oliver gave me the time and place. I told her I’d be there.
I cal ed Freddy and told him about my problem: I wanted to honor Al en’s wishes, but I didn’t want to meet his homophobic sons, whom I was sure would be there. What if the crazy ex-wife showed? It sounded like a real freak show.
“Darling, you know I’m always there in your hour of need,” Freddy assured me.
“Yes, wel, it’s nice to have your support.”
“No, darling, literal y. I’m there. I’l be your bodyguard. Besides, it’s on my lunch hour.”
“It’s at ten o’clock in the morning.”
“I’l take an early lunch.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, hoping he would.
“Darling, it’s no trouble at al. You know I love a good soap opera. Besides, there could be a sizable inheritance at stake.”
“I doubt it,” I said. But it would be nice.
“Did you solve his murder yet?”
I told Freddy what I remembered about Randy Bostinick, and about Roger Folds, the development director at The Stuff of Life.
“See, that’s two more leads than you had yesterday,” Freddy encouraged. “Now, you’re in luck with Randy because he works out at my gym. If that boy injects one more dose of steroids, I think he’s going to grow hair on his elbows. Although, I have to say, he does look fabulous. I’d do him.”
“Him and what army?” I ask. “Oh yeah, any army.”
“Ha-ha, very funny. In any case, he’s there every morning at around eight, so he won’t be hard to find.
“Plus,” Freddy continued, “we’l get a look at the family tomorrow. Maybe we can force a confession at the reading of the wil. You know, when they’re al emotional and everything.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I’l start with an easy question to break the ice.
Something like: ‘which one of you bitches kil ed your father?’”
“Subtle.”
“Wel you know me, darling. The soul of discretion.”
“On second thought, maybe you should just stay at work. I’l fil you in later.”
“Don’t be sil y, lamb. I’l behave, I promise. Now, I have to pick out something appropriately funereal to wear. Do you think black sequins would work, or is that too Liza?”
I hung up on Freddy and was climbing into a cab when my cel rang again. “Hel o,” I answered.
“It’s Tony.”
I resented the surge of excitement I felt when I heard his voice. “Hi.”
“I need to show you something,” he said.
“OK,” I said. “What?”
“Show, not tel. Where are you? Can you meet me?”
I told him I was in a cab inching its way downtown.
“Fine,” Tony said. “Meet me in the lobby of Al en Harrington’s apartment building.”
I gave the taxi driver a new destination.
CHAPTER 4
Even though our last meeting had ended pretty tragical y, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was kind of excited
