8
and Langley Law has offices in three parts of the city. Ben has worked at two of them and is on track to be the youngest partner in the firm. He has a small office and his own secretary, shares a paralegal with another associate and is considered, he knows, the man to watch. His success rate for clients is one of the highest in the firm, he’s an active member of the LGBT Bar Association of Los Angeles and offers regular pro-bono service to groups representing LGBT youth and single parents. As far as he knows, nobody in the firm cares who he sleeps with.
Ben has worked too hard to consider his life to be the result of luck but that doesn’t stop him considering himself lucky. Walking through the lobby to his office, he considers this idea, still troubled by last night’s events. Once, in high school after he came out, some guys cornered him in the gym and tried to beat him up. Ben’s mother enrolled him in judo classes the next day and the black belt he eventually earned had not given him anywhere as much confidence as his mother’s support had. What must it have been like to grow up fighting that battle in your own home, he wonders. Against your own family.
#
Ben’s secretary looks up from her keyboard and throws her hands in the air. A small woman in her fifties with short grey hair, a bright smile, and a penchant for oversized jewelry, Fiona has worked for Ben since he made associate two years ago. He is hardly her first young lawyer, but he knows he is the favorite and if he ever leaves the firm and asks her to follow, she’ll do so without hesitation.
“Are you sick?” she asks. “Dying? Possessed by demons?”
Startled he stops and rests his satchel on her desk.
“What?”
“For two years, every Sunday night you have sent me an email with stuff for the week,” Fiona says. “Even when you were in hospital having your appendix removed, you sent me the Sunday night email. Last night there was no email. I thought you were dead. Are you grooming a new secretary?”
Ben rolls his eyes but can’t hide his grin.
“Yes Fiona – and he works late for no pay and has a great ass.” Which, he thinks, isn’t entirely untrue.
She leans against the door watching him hang up his coat.
“I have a great ass. And for what you pay me, I may as well be working for no pay.”
They both know the last bit is untrue.
“Fiona,” he says with a mock sigh, “I’m not grooming a new secretary. I’m not sick. Possessed by demons is a possibility I grant you but I’m not dying. I just got busy okay? Can I have coffee? Decent coffee?”
Laughter follows Fiona out the door and Ben listens to her leave before pulling out his laptop and turning it on. Glances at his cell phone and swings his chair to look out the window. The view isn’t great, but it’s a view which is more than most associates can boast and it beats staring at the fern in the corner.
Unlike Alex, Ben has had relationships. None have been long lived but they’ve been fun and he’s never regretted any of them. Nor has he regretted them being over; life is too short to waste on regrets. None of the men he’s been involved with, however, have been like Alex.
Ben knows Alex doesn’t see himself the way Ben sees him – smart, sweet, kind, and funny. Not to mention so sexy that even after two months, Ben wants to touch him the minute he lays eyes on him. And if Alex thinks his complicated – a word Ben is beginning to hate – family is going to put him off, he underestimates how Ben feels every time Alex smiles at him.
He’s still staring at pigeons on the sill when Fiona returns and puts a cup on his desk. She folds her arms.
“He must be pretty special,” she says. Ben turns, sees the coffee and picks it up.
“Who?”
“Whoever is making you look that way and distracted you from sending the Sunday email,” she says with a grin.
“I’ll send you ten right now to make up for it, okay?”
Ben pulls his chair in closer to his desk and begins typing.
“No, no, I’m all good,” she says holding her hands up in surrender as she backs out of the office. “I’m just saying, he must be pretty special.”
#
Sipping his coffee, Ben reaches for the phone. Waits for the call to go through and smiles when he hears his mother’s voice.
“Hey mom, it’s your favorite son,” he says.
“Hello honey. Are you okay? Are you sick?”
What the hell? Why does everyone think he’s sick or dying today?
“Did I forget to email you too? No, I’m not sick. Or dying. Or possessed by demons for that matter.”
“Well that’s good to know kid. Normally I don’t get to hear your voice at all.”
Ben pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.
“You’re so hard done by,” he says, then continues before she can say anything more. “Look, I know it’s normally just the three of us for Polly’s birthday, but I was wondering if you guys mind if I bring someone with me on Friday.”
“Are we finally going to meet Alex?”
“If you’re happy for me to bring him with me, yes.”
“Is he cute?”
This is her stock question when she thinks there is someone new in his life, but Ben doesn’t feel like playing this morning. When he doesn’t answer, she speaks again.
“Ben? Still there?”
“Yeah mom, still here. It’s just, this is kind of important.”
For the next five minutes, he gives his mother a summary of what has been happening.
“Sounds like you care about him,” his mother says when he’s finished. Ben sends up silent thanks for how well his mother knows him.
“Yeah.”
“Well, then of course bring him along,” she says, “but Ben, from what you say it might pay to prepare him for Polly.”
“Mom I don’t think anything could prepare anyone for Polly,” Ben says with a snort of laughter.
“True. What time should we expect you on Friday?”
“Well it depends if Alex can get away from work early or not, so I guess around six if he can and about ten if he can’t. I’ll flick you a text when we’re on the road, okay?”
“I’ll tell Polly she’s going to be surrounded by gorgeous young men this weekend then.”
“Thanks mom,” Ben says. “And yes, he’s cute.”
“Pictures, kid, pictures are good.”
#
Before he does anything, Ben sends his mother an email with a picture he took of Alex a couple of weeks ago. They’d gone up to the Hollywood sign and in it Alex is sitting cross legged at the base of the H, looking out over the vista and smiling. The sun is behind him and he’s relaxed, his face lit up and dimpled. When the email is gone, he sends a text to Alex asking him to call when he’s free and is surprised when his phone chimes within seconds.
“What’s up?” Alex’s voice sounds shaky and Ben supposes that all things considered he understands why.
“I want to know if you want to come down to San Capistrano with me on Friday and meet my family.”
“Meet your family?” Alex asks. If anything, his voice sounds shakier.
“Well it’s just my mom and Polly.”
“Polly?”
“My grandmother.”
“You call your grandmother Polly?”
“It’s her name. What do you call yours?”
“Well, both my grandmothers are dead but I called them Grandma, like most normal people.”
“When you meet Polly, you’ll understand,” Ben says. “Can you finish early?”
“Ben, I ...”
“Alex, come on,” Ben says. He hears the impatience in his voice and tries to dial it back. “You said you want to try. I promise they don’t bite, baby.”
There’s a sigh from the other end of the line.
“I should never have told you I like you calling me that.”
Ben grins and fist pumps the air; he’s won.
“Too late now,” he says. “I’d like to get away before rush hour hits so is there any chance you could be ready to go by three?”
They spend the next few minutes negotiating the departure time, settle on four and hang up. A text bounces in from his mother.
‘Polly wants to know how tall he is?’
‘Tell her she’ll have to ask him herself but taller than me.’
When he looks up Fiona is leaning against the doorway, smiling.
“Blocking you out from three on Friday?”
“Stop listening to my conversations.”
“It’s what you pay me to do,” she retorts. “Do I get to see what this mystery man looks like?”
“Oh for God’s sake,” Ben says and signals her over to see the picture he sent his mother. She nods in appreciation and heads back to the outer office.
“He looks nice,” she says. “I’m glad, you deserve someone nice.”
Ben blushes and flaps her away, turning to his laptop to hide his smile.