Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

“Welcome to Maxie’s.” Nico held open the door to the bar. “Not sure Frank can make you a martini the way you like it, but he’ll try.”

“I’m fine with beer.” He didn’t want Nico to think he couldn’t fit in with everyone else. It was almost like when he first met Lenny and had to learn to mingle with the beautiful people. Only now, with Nico, there was no pretending. He liked these funny, loving people who didn’t play games and laid it on the line. With Lenny’s friends, he’d been forced to listen to which events they’d attended, malicious gossip about people only moments ago they’d introduced as friends, and golf scores, pretending he gave a damn. It was all about making Lenny happy. With Nico’s friends and family, he didn’t have to fake anything. He liked them and wanted them to like him.

Maxie’s was a far cry from the silent spaces with tablecloths and candlelight, idle conversations, and power deals. It was a dark and sticky room with remnants of drinks spilled and lifelong friendships formed over a winning home run or an impossible catch.

It was a place Ford had never belonged to and now yearned to be part of more than anything, along with the group of warm, funny people who accepted you as one of them.

A scattering of patrons sat at the bar, a noisy group played pool, but two tables were open, so they pushed them together.

Ford nudged Nico. “I want to buy the first round.”

“You don’t gotta do that,” he murmured, but a smile tugged up the corner of his lips and his face glowed with affection.

“I know.”

Nico rubbed his back. “Hey, everyone. Ford’s buying. What’re you all having?”

“Thanks, Ford.”

“Dude, thanks.”

He and Nico took their orders and ambled up to the bar, where they were greeted by a silver-haired man with twinkling eyes. “Nico, whassup? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Been workin’, Frank. Want you to meet my friend Ford. He’s from Florida.”

“Florida? I been to Naples years ago. Nice beaches.”

“They are some of the prettiest. I live in Fort Lauderdale.”

Nico gave him all the orders, and Frank talked while he poured. “I bet you all laugh at us in the winter when we’re freezin’ our asses off. Whatcha do for a livin’, Ford?”

“I’m a doctor. A dermatologist.”

Frank slid two bottles across the bar. “A derma—what?”

Nico snorted. “Skin, Frank. Ford is a skin doctor.”

Frank’s brows rose high. “No shit? Lemme ask you somethin’. I got this spot on my shoulder—”

Before Ford could answer, Nico cut him off. “Frank. Ford didn’t come here to work or give free advice.”

He put a hand on Nico’s shoulder. “Hey. I don’t mind. It’s okay. Frank, has it been bothering you?”

Frank nodded. “It’s gotten a little bigger, and I dunno, it kinda itches.”

Ford tensed, and forgetting everything, else, leaned in closer. “Would you mind showing it to me?”

“Ford—” Nico began, but he held his hand up.

“No, Nico. I’m serious.” Everything else fell to the wayside. “Frank? Show me?”

While Nico delivered the drinks to the table, Frank pulled down the edge of his T-shirt, revealing his shoulder and a large brown spot. To Ford’s trained eye, it appeared slightly raised and with jagged edges. Not a good sign, but he didn’t want to sound any alarms.

“I think you should see a doctor and have a biopsy.”

Frank’s eyes grew wide. “Biopsy? What’re you talkin’ about? It’s just one of them moles.”

“Maybe, but it could be melanoma, which is very dangerous if left untreated.”

“Mela—what? This is nuts. It’s probably nothin’. And I don’t got a doctor. No health insurance, ya know? I gotta wait until I’m sixty-five for Medicare.” He released his shirt. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s nothin’.”

“Frank, I really don’t think you should wait.” Ford tried not to be an alarmist, but dammit, he was worried.

A customer called to Frank, and he shrugged. “Gotta go.”

Nico returned to his side while he struggled not to run after Frank and try to shake some sense into him.

“Ford? What’s wrong? You look upset.”

He rubbed his face. “I am. I’m not happy that Frank is brushing this off. It could be deadly. Melanoma isn’t something to fool around with. If you don’t treat it, you can die.”

Nico paled. “Shit. But what can he do? He doesn’t have that kinda money to pay for operations and stuff like that. Dammit.” Nico peered over his shoulder at Frank. “He’s family, you know? Anthony’s uncle. Always been there for us.”

Ford deliberated. “I might have something, but it’ll have to wait until tomorrow. There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“Okay. And thanks for treating everyone.”

“Being with you is a treat for me. I’m happy to do it.”

They rejoined the group, and Anthony raised his bottle. “To new friends. And new beginnings.”

Ford smiled. “I’ll drink to that.”

Nico slid his hand up Ford’s thigh, and his breath hitched. “What’re you doing?” he whispered, lips against his beer bottle.

“What do you want me to do?” Nico’s fingers teased along the inside of his leg, and Ford ached with restrained pleasure.

“Not here. Not in front of everyone. I won’t be able to hide what you do to me.”

Nico withdrew his hand. “Mmm. I can’t wait to get you alone.”

“What’re you two whispering over there?” Joey called out.

“Nothin’,” Nico countered.

“I call bullshit. Not with that shit-eating grin Nico’s tryin’ to hide.”

Ford’s cheeks burned. Thank God the bar was dark.

“Stop teasin’. You’re embarrassing Ford.” Teresa shoved Joey. “I’m so happy you’re here again, Ford. When do you leave?”

“Tuesday.”

“Not Monday?”

“No. I don’t work on Tuesdays.”

“So you get an extra night together.”

He glanced at Nico. “That’s my plan.”

Nico’s mouth drooped. “I gotta work.” He perked up. “But we can have dinner in the city.”

“I’d love that.” Ford fell into the blue of Nico’s eyes, forgetting they were surrounded by people.

Nico took a sip of his Scotch. “I don’t wanna think about you leaving right now,” he murmured.

“Me neither.”

Joey got them a second round, and Ford excused himself to use the restroom. On his return, he paused to watch the pool game going on. The guys were decent but not great, and when one of them missed, Ford made a face that didn’t go over well with the crew playing because of one of them sneered. “You got somethin’ to say?”

“Not after that shot,” Ford told him. “It said it all.”

“Oh, damn, Jimmy. He called you out.” A heavily tattooed guy dressed all in black snickered.

“You think you can do better than me, old man?” The lug called Jimmy went nose to nose with him, and from the corner of his eye he spotted Anthony, Joey, and Nico all rising to their feet, but he merely smiled.

“Yeah. I do.”

Jimmy’s friends jeered. “Man, this dude don’t know who he’s talkin’ to. Jimmy’s the best in Bay Ridge, probably all of Brooklyn.”

Jimmy folded his arms. “You sure you don’t wanna think about it? Wouldn’t wanna make you look like an ass in front of all your friends.”

“I’ll take that chance.” This was getting fun.

Nico stepped up. “Ford, maybe—”

“It’s fine.” He winked, and Nico, face filled with surprise, whispered to all the others who had circled them.

In high school, he’d had a job delivering cases of beer and soda to a pool hall. Was it illegal? Yeah, because he wasn’t twenty-one, but people tended to look the other way in that business. The bar owner, whose family life wasn’t much different from his own, took a liking to him and taught him all he learned when he was on the professional pool circuit.

“Rack ’em,” Ford ordered. He found a cue he liked, chalked the tip, and leaned over the table. “Nine ball,” he called out, and took the shot.

He stood back, and with satisfaction watched six balls roll into the pockets while hearing the chatter behind him.

“What the fuck?”

“Motherfucker played you, Jimmy.”

“Son of a bitch, he’s a ringer.” Jimmy smacked his cue on the table. “You fucking played me.”

Ford shrugged. “You asked if I could do better than you, and I did. Facts speak louder than words.” He walked away, and his friends—as he now considered them—crowded around him.

“Ford, that was the bomb,” Joey crowed.

“Where’d you learn to play like that?” Anthony demanded. “That’s some pro-level shit.”

It was Nico who shocked him the most, by kissing him in front of everyone. “You were awesome.” He lowered his voice. “And your ass looked amazing when you bent over that table.”

“And there he goes.” Jack snickered. “Another one’s bit the dust.”

They returned to their seats, where Nico asked Jack, “What’re you talking about?”

“You and Ford. All cutesy and coupled up. First Joey and Tre, Anthony and Sergio.”

“Shut up,” Nico snapped, to Ford’s surprise. There was no joking behind his words.

“Why? You think I don’t see it? Thought you learned your lesson with the last one.”

“Jack, what the hell?” Seated next to Jack, Teresa pushed his shoulder. “Stop it.”

“Why? ’Cause you like this one? Give it some time. I thought you’d never fall for a guy like this again, but looks like that ship has sailed.”

“We’re not—” Nico began but stopped. “What the fuck do I need to explain anything to you for?” He downed his Scotch.

“I ain’t gonna listen to your bullshit when it’s over.” Jack finished his beer and tossed out a twenty. “Guess you do like the fancy clothes and nice restaurants.” He rose to his feet. “Not to mention the big bank accounts.”

Ford glanced at each of Nico’s friends, but they all avoided his eyes. What just happened? Big bank accounts? What was Jack insinuating?

An uncomfortable silence descended on the table, and Ford met Teresa’s eyes. She smiled. “That was a great shot, Ford. I never learned to play pool. Maybe you can teach me one day.”

He appreciated her attempt to alleviate the tension. “Sure. I’d love to.”

“We gotta go,” Nico announced.

“We do?” Surprised at the sudden shift of events, Nico wore an expression he hadn’t seen before. One etched in sharp, deep lines of anger and pain.

“Please?” Nico whispered, sounding so broken that Ford’s heart hurt.

“Thanks, everyone. I hope to see you soon.”

Everyone murmured farewells but didn’t try and stop them.

Ford called for a car, and they left, but he made a mental note to make a phone call to Bruce Sandler about Frank.

Nico said nothing on the ride into the city. Once inside his suite, Ford called room service and ordered them drinks and some crackers and cheese.

“That’s gonna cost a fortune,” Nico muttered, staring out the window.

“I don’t care.” He slipped his arms around Nico’s waist. “What happened back there with Jack? Talk to me, please?”

Nico pulled away from him and paced the room. Ford let him, understanding that whatever it was, it had been eating away at his soul for a while. At the knock on the door, he answered, and room service wheeled in their drinks and a small charcuterie board. Ford picked up Nico’s Scotch and handed it to him as he passed by.

“A double?” He took a sip.

“If you need the bottle, that can be arranged too.” Ford plucked the drink out of his hand. “But I’d rather you tell me what’s going on in your head.” He cupped Nico’s cheek. “Or is it your heart?”

Nico’s gaze fell to the floor, those thick dark lashes hiding his beautiful eyes, and Ford led him to the sofa. They sat, and still holding Nico’s hand, he waited.

“The year I turned twenty-one, I got a summer job as a cabana boy on the beach at one of the country clubs on Long Island. I’d heard the tips were great. And, man, they were right.”

“You were the kid who’d bring out the chairs and towels for people?”

“Yeah. Plus drinks and food. They’d give me money for sunscreen if they ran out. Every club along the beach on the South Shore has them.”

“Okay.”

“That summer I met this guy, Payson, and he used to slip me his number whenever he gave me my tip. And it was a big tip—fifty or a hundred bucks each day.”

Impressed, Ford nodded. “That could add up to a lot of money.”

“It did. And he kept asking me to meet him in the city at his apartment. He’d bring me little gifts—cologne, small leather stuff, expensive bathing suits. After a few weeks, I figured why not? The country club didn’t have any strict rules, and trust me, I saw lots of the ladies spend extracurricular time with cabana guys.”

“So you had a summer fling. Can’t say I blame him.”

Nico’s smile came and went. “It started in the summer, but it continued. Soon I was seeing him in his apartment in Tribeca—he had a huge penthouse. He took me to his house in the Hamptons during the winter, where we’d be snowed in, but I didn’t care.”

“You fell in love with him,” Ford surmised.

Nico lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, well, everything was great until I started asking him why we never went out to dinner, or anywhere in the city. He was always at these events but never asked me to go with him.”

Ford understood now why it had meant so much to Nico to come to The Pierre. It showed Nico he was valued, seen, and appreciated.

Nico continued. “He’d say he wanted to keep me to himself, or that I’d be bored.”

“All true,” Ford admitted. “Still not a reason to keep your lover sequestered.” He ran his knuckles down Nico’s cheek. “Just so you know, I was thrilled to have you with me.”

Nico’s face showed enormous strain. “Yeah.” He shrugged. “One night, I made such a stink about ordering in dinner again that he took me out, I don’t even remember where. On our way from the car to his building, he met a couple he knew from work.”

“What was his job?”

“Hedge-fund manager.”

Made sense. “Money to burn, huh?”

“You know it.” Nico sighed. “Can I have some of that drink now?” Ford reached over and handed him the tumbler. Nico took a sip. “Anyways, Payson tried to hurry me inside the building, but they waylaid him, and he introduced me as his personal assistant.”

Ford winced. “And did you say anything to him?”

“Yeah. I asked him what the fuck was going on. Why wouldn’t he tell them I was his boyfriend?” He stopped to take another drink. “He laughed at me and said, ‘Boyfriend? I’m the manager of a multibillion-dollar hedge fund at the age of thirty-five. Do you think I’m going to date a twenty-one-year-old cabana boy? Come on. It was a summer thing that went on longer than I expected because let’s face it”—Nico’s voice broke—“you give great head and you’re a great fuck, but that’s it.’”

Seeing how Nico’s hand trembled, Ford took his glass away and held him close. “Nico, Nico. I’m so sorry. What a bastard. What a total piece-of-shit human.”

Nico’s lips touched his neck. “I walked away and never saw him again.”

“I’d hope not.” Ford stroked his back. “He hurt you badly. Someone like that doesn’t deserve a man like you.” He rested his cheek to Nico’s. “And I don’t blame you for not trusting people. Jack was dead wrong to talk to you like that. He owes you an apology.”

“He won’t. Jack sees things in black and white. He didn’t like Payson and said I was stupid to think a guy like Payson could want someone like me for anything else but sex. He was right.”

That didn’t sit right with Ford. “I’m sorry, but he was wrong. Those potshots at you, saying you’re interested in me for my money and what comes with it—”

Wild-eyed, Nico grabbed his shoulders. “That’s not true. I swear I don’t—”

“Shh.” Ford cut off Nico’s rush of words with a kiss. “I know you’re not like that. And I’m not like Payson either, who only wanted to hide you away. Know what I want?”

Nico’s lips finally kicked up in a true smile. “I might have an idea.”

“Besides that.” Ford chuckled and kissed him. “I want to show you off and let people wonder how someone like me got so goddamn lucky to have a guy like you. I know I’m older than you and we hardly know each other, but I can’t stop thinking about you—I haven’t since we met.”

“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.” Nico’s subdued expression made him sad.

“I wouldn’t, and I’m not. I hate that you still don’t understand how much you’re worth, that this man mangled your self-esteem to the point where you don’t think someone might actually care for you because of who you are.”

“I don’t even know who the hell I am,” Nico blurted out. “I’m gonna be twenty-nine and don’t have a career, just a job. I live in the basement of the house I grew up in. I thought I’d have more by now.”

“Where’s it written there’s a time frame for success? And as I see it, you are a success. You have wonderful friends who will always be there for you. A mother who loves you and the potential to have a father. You’re part of a thriving family business that has an impact on the community. You have drive and ambition to do more and be better. You’re not complacent—you’re hungry. And that’s a good thing.”

“Thanks, but if all that’s true, why don’t I feel better?”

Nico’s frustration needed to be kicked to the curb.

“How about I make you feel better and tell you what I feel about you?” Ford pushed him down until he lay flat under him. “I came this weekend because I missed your smile and that funny accent, especially when you say coffee.” Nico’s mouth opened in outrage, and Ford had to kiss it closed.

“Mmm, I guess I can forgive you for that slur.” Nico kissed him back, and Ford’s head spun with the desire pounding through his blood.

“I feel appreciated when I’m with you. I feel like I belong, and I’m not that poor kid from the trailer park, pretending to fit in.” He cupped Nico’s face. “You don’t pretend to be anyone but who you are, and I admire that.” He kissed Nico’s cheek. “If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m crazy about you, Nico Andretti, and I don’t care about anything except how I feel when I’m with you. To me, that’s all that matters.”