Sneak Peek

Curtis scuttled back to stand next to Dustin at the podium as the lights above the audience dimmed and the monitors flickered to life. Standing behind camera two, Xavier held up his hand, fingers spread. "And we're live in five…" He folded a finger down. "Four… three…" He folded the last two fingers down silently as the show theme played and camera one focused on Ari.

"Good afternoon, and welcome to Ari Dimitriou on Life. Today, my special guest is none other than Jesse Sandusky. Journalist. Activist." Ari smiled directly at the camera. "Antichrist."

Dustin smothered a moan and lowered his forehead to the podium. And so it begins. He sighed and raised his head, glancing between the set and the monitors, as camera three, which usually did both audience reaction shots and one-shots of the guest du jour, caught Jesse chuckling amiably, his arms draped across the back of the sofa reserved for guests, as if to say, "I've got nothing to hide."

"I see you haven't gotten any less dramatic since we last chatted, Ari."

"And apparently you haven't gotten any less self-important." Ari picked up a hardcover book from the table that was the only thing separating him from Jesse. "I believe you've published a book since then." He flashed the dust jacket at the camera, then dropped the book on the floor on the far side of his chair.

"Yep." Jesse rested one ankle on the opposite knee. "Some people—a lot of people, judging by my NYT bestseller status—are open to alternate perspectives." He grinned. "Want to hear the reader demographics, Ari? How many books I've sold to queer people? How many queer people have written to me, praising my courage?"

Ari folded his hands on his knee. Uh oh. But it might still be okay, as long as Ari didn't get that smile—

Ari smiled.

Dustin curled his fingers into fists. Okay, as long as he doesn't look at Jesse from under his brows—

Ari lowered his chin and peered at Jesse from under his brows.

Oh, god. Here we go.

"You know what I've found, Jesse? It seems queer people are just as apt to be assholes as straight people, even to each other. You're a case in point."

"Thank you, Ari. Your opinion means so much to me. But you know…" Jesse's grin stretched wider. "If a person—queer or straight—isn't interested in my opinions, they don't need to buy my book."

"Don't be disingenuous. You have a platform. A voice. A following."

"Glad you finally admit that."

Ari didn't acknowledge the interruption. "Most queer people lack that kind of public privilege. Yet you used your… notoriety to speak out against their right to marry. Their right to be treated equally."

"And you shouldn't be imprecise, Ari. I never said anybody deserved unequal treatment. My stance is that marriage shouldn't be the yardstick by which we measure the legitimacy of any relationship. I wasn't arguing against marriage for couples of the same gender. I was arguing against marriage for couples of any gender."

"That's not how the conservative pundits saw it. They used you—your words, your articles, your sound bites—as counter arguments. You even appeared on Fox News, for Chrissake."

Jesse's grin matched Ari's at his most sharklike. Dueling Great Whites. Just shoot me now. "Jealous? They've never invited you to guest, I believe."

A muscle in Ari's jaw twitched, which camera one probably caught in full close-up glory.

"You're incredibly arrogant to believe that you can speak for what all LGBTQ people want. What they can expect. What they deserve."

"But you're doing the same. You're using your voice to declare that they should want the same things as straight people—who, I might add, don't necessarily want the confines of marriage either."

"I'm not saying they should do any one thing or another. Only that they shouldn't be denied a particular legal status that confers certain rights and privileges under our laws."

"Bullshit."

Curtis leaned close to Dustin and murmured, "Can he say that on the air?"

"There's a ten-second delay," Dustin whispered back. "They can bleep out anything inappropriate in the control room."

On the set, Jesse pointed both index fingers at Ari. Stick 'em up. "You're perpetuating an archaic construct. Buying into the impression that the ultimate union is one that's solemnized by the farce of institutionalized monogamy."

"You're saying that you and I, as gay men—"

"I'm bi, actually."

Ari bared his teeth in the deadly smile Dustin knew all too well. Uh oh. "You and I as queer men don't deserve the same consideration as men who identify as straight?"

"Not at all. I'm just saying it's against our nature, whether we're queer or straight. Male biology is configured to spread sperm as widely as possible. Our brains are hard-wired for promiscuity."

"I don't accept that notion. The brain is a highly adaptable organ."

"But the penis is not."

Half the audience laughed. The other half booed. Curtis turned to Dustin, his eyes wide. "Can he say that on the air?" Dustin just sighed.

Jesse settled back on the couch, spreading his arms again. "You know, Ari, I've noticed something. You're such a cheerleader for marriage, and yet you prove my point for me."

Ari propped his elbows on his chair arms, steepling his fingers. "That's highly unlikely."

"No? If the tabloids are to be believed"—Jesse grinned at the camera again—"and if it's in the National Enquirer, it's gotta be true, am I right?—you party with a different man every week."

Dustin gripped the edge of the podium. He'd warned Ari how his personal life might reflect on his political and professional stance. But had Ari listened? No, he had not, this morning's impromptu brunch being a prime example.

"Just because I haven't gotten married yet doesn't mean I won't." But the defensive edge to Ari's voice and the way he laced his fingers together set off Dustin's mental Danger! klaxon.

"Really." Jesse's eye glinted in the harsh studio lights. "How old are you again?"

"Thirty-five. It's not a secret."

"Uh huh. And how many men have you dated?"

"I'm not one for keeping score. It's disrespectful."

Jesse held his palms out like he was serving something up on a platter. "You heard it here first, folks. The man who claims true love is everyone's Holy Grail can't even count the number of times he hasn't found true love. But then why settle for one true love when perpetually looking is obviously more to your taste?"

Ari's eyebrows twitched, but he didn't scowl. Not enough for the camera to catch, anyway. "There's no timetable on finding love."

"Obviously. Come on, man. How many places"—he made air quotes—"have you looked for this mythical true love?"

"I prefer not to say."

"I'll make it easy on you. I won't ask for a full count, or even a year-to-date tally. How about how many today?" Jesse pulled out his phone and held it up, screen out. Camera three zoomed in, and there on the monitor—grainy but unmistakable—was Ari's unscheduled brunch. Taran was completely hidden behind a potted palm, but the intent behind Ari's amatory smile was obvious.

For an instant—and there's no way the camera didn't catch it—an expression skittered across Ari's face that was all too familiar on this show, although never before on its host: the look of a hunted, cornered rat.

But then it disappeared, replaced by the I'm-just-about-to-nail-you grin.

"You know, Jesse…"

And that's how it started. With Ari's casual drawl, leading up to the fatal zinger that left virtual blood on the studio floor. Dustin scrubbed his hands through his hair. Wonder who'll be on cleanup duty today?

"You've forced my hand."

What?Dustin edged out from behind the podium. Was Ari conceding? He never conceded.

"Have I?" Jesse uncrossed his ankle. Any minute now he'd spread his legs, because nothing says I win like a good crotch shot.

"I've been keeping this under wraps because my fiancé is a private person, and I had no desire to expose him to the glare of publicity."

Fiancé?Dustin gripped the metal rail on the corner of the riser, the square edges biting into his palm. Who? Not Taran. Please not Taran. But if it was Taran, why did Ari have Dustin cancel the dinner reservation?

"But he's here in the studio today."

Dustin scanned the audience. Many of them were part of Ari's Army, the volunteers who helped him with his LGBTQ activism. Press, too. Dustin counted at least four that he knew of, although there could be more. Dustin couldn't recognize them all by sight, considering how assiduously he dodged anybody who might come armed with a camera. "Come" being the operative word, thank you for that phobia, Walker.

"Who's the lucky guy?" Sure enough, Jesse spread his knees wide, the better to frame his package and play my-dick-is-bigger-than-yours. "Don't keep us in suspense."

The audience cheered. Because of course they did. Dustin kept a close eye on Ari's face. Was he going to dodge again? If so, he'd made a grave error by admitting his fiancé was here somewhere. But Ari's triumphant smile didn't dim.

Then he turned and looked right at Dustin. "Dustin? I'm sorry, sweetheart, but our secret's out. Come over here and greet our audience."