Money Can Buy You Love. And Glitter. Chapter 58.2
Rating: This chapter is PG-13.
Ship:: Adam/Kris
Story begins here: Chapter 1: Meet cute in coffee shop
Click HERE and scroll down to find links to all the chapters of this story.
This chapter will have one more part.
Chapter 58.2: Needs More Glitter
"It's the Tonight Show with Jay Leno! Tonight's special guest is Kris Allen!"
Leila jumped as she heard a loud crash and a string of curses from the kitchen. "What was that?"
"I dropped the popcorn bowl and... " I'm about to freak out, Adam thought as he looked at the scattershot of popcorn across the tile floor. He flipped open the cabinet door under the sink and reached for the dustpan and hand broom. Yup, he was just going to clean up the popcorn. No hurry. Nope.
"Fuggaboutit! Get out here."
Seeing his hands shake as he brushed the popcorn into the trash, Adam retorted, "You sounded so New Jersey."
"That's where I'm from. Get your ass out here and let's see what's going on."
"I don't get it..." Adam said as he backed into the room staring at the tv. Kris was on Leno? Of his own free will?
"Get here!" Leila growled, grabbing Adam's belt loop and tugging him down next to her on the couch.
"He hates doing promo and interviews..." Adam said in shock, reaching for the little green plastic sword on the coffee table and rolling it between his fingers.
"Maybe he loves you enough that he's willing to put himself through it."
Pointing the sword at the tv, Adam explained, "I... I don't want a sacrificial lamb. I just want someone to love me."
"Save it for a song lyric. Shh!"
"So, Kris." Jay shook his head and leaned forward. "Based upon what I'm hearing in the tabloids, your life has taken an interesting turn. You wanta explain what's going on?"
"I do. Thanks for having me on so I can explain. I 'preciate it." Kris gulped, then fumbled for the mug of water before he choked to death on his own spit. That is, if he had any, which he doubted since his throat was so dry.
Filling in the dead air as Kris visibly worked to control his fear, Jay explained, "Now, I know for a fact that you don't care for the spotlight very much and yet you called me yourself -- using my mechanic as the go-between -- to ask if you could come on the air."
"Yeah. I'm so sorry because... It's my fault that Adam's name is bein' drug through the mud right now by nasty gossiping biddies who call themselves journalists and so it's my duty to fix it. It's my fault."
"Your fault? Are you that so-called former associate selling a story to the tabloids?"
"No, no!" Kris waved his hands as if wiping something clean. "No, that is some other as--- I mean, dude. Who seems to have stolen my phone and gotten information from it that he spun into a story."
"Fine. Why don't you answer the question everyone is dying to ask. Did you take money to sleep with Adam Lambert?"
"No." Kris shook his head and repeated. "No. Absolutely not. No freaking way. No way. No how--"
"Okay, we got it. No." Jay laughed. "You said it quite emphatically."
"Well, yeah. First of all, Adam wouldn't need to pay money to get sex. I mean, have you looked at the guy?" Kris asked.
"Well, he's not exactly my type," Jay quipped.
"He's mine!" Kris grinned. "And no way would anyone have had to pay me to sleep with him." He paused and took a deep breath. "I... took money. But I slept with him because I wanted to. I slept with him because I loved him. I lived with him and made a family with him because I loved him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Because I love him."
"But you took money."
"Yes. I never meant, we never meant... I'm so sorry that something I did has caused this nightmare to Adam. I never ever would hurt him. Never. If I'd ever known that taking that money..." Kris tried to swallow, but his throat was dry again. He grabbed for the mug again and swallowed hard.
Jay pressed on, "From whom did you take money?"
"Geoffrey Brush. Adam's manager and the guy who's, well, it's an understatement to say that he's like a father to me. He's more a father to me than my sperm donor ever was. He also loves Adam like a son too. And he wanted us to be happy. So he was killing two birds with one stone and oh hell--" Kris slapped his hand over his mouth. "I can't say that, can I?"
"Don't worry." Jay pointed at Kris. "Go on."
"Well, I'm mucking it up. I... brought video."
"Yes, you did. Now it's my understanding that Brush videotapes all meetings in his office as a matter of course."
Kris nodded. He'd gotten through this bit in rehearsals with Jay's assistant earlier with no problems. "And he asks you first if it's okay. So it's on the up and up. This particular video is from nearly six years ago. It takes place after I'd applied to his agency for representation and been turned down. Although they had gotten me a few guitar gigs. But what you'll see here is me coming in for an appointment, thinking I was going to be offered representation. Instead I had to pass a test and got a different offer. One that changed my life for the better."
"I do want to make you an offer."
"You do?" Kris gaped. He put his hand over his chest as he felt his heart begin to pound.
"Not for a music deal. I'm sorry." Geoffrey smiled apologetically. "I am sorry. As I said at our previous meeting here weeks ago, you need time and practice and seasoning and a following. We simply do not develop artists that way any more. I do think you have potential, but you're going to have to realize it mostly on your own. All of that work is especially necessary when you're an openly gay artist."
"You already said that to me." Kris glared. He'd like to kill the guy for raising his hopes.
"You don't have a poker face." Brush chuckled. "Thank god."
"I don't get it. Why did you call me back here to reject me again? Is this some sicko California thing -- torturing people?"
"Because no one in Arkansas toys with people's emotions?" Geoffrey asked skeptically. "Now, please pay attention and put your small town prejudices aside. You've made quite an impression on both me and Hannah during our various meetings with you."
"I did?" Kris asked in surprise. He was a low-key guy and didn't tend to make big impressions on people right away. Then again, he'd been hiding who he was back in Conway and been kinda depressed since moving out here, so maybe he was just sliding under the radar. Deliberately. Maybe he needed to think about that, since sliding under the radar hadn't gotten him anywhere. Maybe it was time to push a little. In fact, he'd felt an itch to push lately, like there was something he needed to do, that he had to do something to get to where he needed to be.
"Indeed. Are you dating anyone now?"
"No. And. What? What the hell--"
"In one of your video interviews with Hannah, you listed your favorite artists."
Perplexed by the abrupt change of subjects, Kris rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, so? What does liking the Beatles or Maroon 5 or Britney or Michael Jackson or Adam Lambert have to do with any of this?" He frowned.
"Relax, Allen. We're just conversing. I noticed that when you were asked to talk about them, you became particularly animated when you talked about Lambert. There was a distinct change in your demeanor..."
"I love Adam Lambert. Love. Him. His voice and then there's his --" Kris broke off, feeling his face heat as he realized he'd been about to talk about Lambert's body parts with his agent. That could not be cool.
"Glambulge." Geoffrey paused and then blurted out, "Do you think he's attractive?"
"Well, yeah, who wouldn't? He's like the hottest guy on the planet." Kris asked, even more confused. "Does he need a new guitarist? Oh -- is that why you asked if I think he's attractive? Because if he needs to kiss someone during Fever, I'd count that as a kickass benefit to the job. I haven't played electric, but I could learn." He smiled. "In fact, I'd looooove to work with Adam Lambert."
"I do have an offer for you to work with him." Geoffrey took a deep breath and then his mouth opened before his brain was in gear, "As I said before, I am a romantic at heart..."
"Huh? Where are you going with this?" Kris asked, sliding back in his chair. Geoffrey was an attractive enough guy, he seemed really nice and was easy, if weird, to talk to and was apparently totally comfortable with the gay thing and maybe that was because he was gay -- I mean who could tell with these European dudes, but really? He was way too old for him, more like a father figure and he'd never been into that daddy stuff--
"Don't worry!" Geoffrey grinned as he watched Kris' face contort with surprise, dismay and a doomed effort to find a bland expression while he rejected the overture. "It's not for me. I pay enough alimony to women to prove it. And I'm morosely obsessed about the one who got away -- Teresa -- so even if you were Kristina, you wouldn't be for me."
"What's not for you?"
"You. I have a friend I'd like to set you up with."
"Are you kiddin' me?" Kris exclaimed. "What is this -- the home office of eharmony.com? Wait, they don't accept gays. And why are you talking about Adam Lambert? So what the hell is going on here? Does he need someone new to kiss at his concerts? A plant for tongue diving?" Kris grinned. "I'd take that job! Ooh boy, would I!"
"Lambert is...." Geoffrey pause to note how Kris kept coming back to the idea of kissing Adam. But still. Caution. He'd nearly screwed it up already with his eagerness and that comment about being a romantic. This deal, while rooted in romanticism, needed clear-eyed strategy. "If you're a fan, you know Lambert has a tendency to become physically excited during his live performances."
"Yeah. The glambulge." Kris could not resist grinning, then licked his lips.
"It's a... problem, most often -- to be blunt -- when he doesn't have a steady boyfriend. We receive complaints about it. Many complaints." Geoffrey paused, rubbed his fingers over his mouth, then continued. "He needs a... boyfriend to help him out."
"Whataya want me to do? Give him a blowjob before every concert?" Kris asked indignantly, shocked at what he was hearing. "You're hiring him a boyfriend to give blowjobs so he doesn't get an erection on stage?"
Geoffrey rubbed his fingers over his mouth to hide his smile. Allen might have squawked, but he'd also licked his lips. "I don't need to know the details."
"Listen, I don't get this. There are tons of guys who'd love to...." Kris stopped as he felt a flush of heat crawl up his face like ants on a picnic table looking for the honey set out for fried chicken. "To service Adam Lambert. And to be honest, I'd love to uh meet him, but not meet him like in some alley or on the curb of Hollywood Boulevard! I'm not some whore! Or prostitute or rent boy!" Kris stood up. God, he'd never forget that night he'd been so desperate for a place to sleep he'd picked up a guy. He'd felt like such trash. "As my Gramma would say, I may be poor, but I'm not trash!"
"It would pay five thousand dollars a--"
"Fuck you! I don't know how desperate you think I am, but I'm not that desperate! So--"
"Really? You wouldn't do it for ten thousand dollars?"
"Ten thousand..." Kris goggled. "I... No. I'm not a whore, so I'm not haggling over the price. And you can go--"
"Sit down, son. You passed the test."
Jay looked at the camera. "Stay tuned and we'll be right back with more videos from the Kris Allen reality show."
"What the hell was that? Who was that? And he's lost weight again!" Adam yelled, throwing his hands up in the air, then scrambling to catch the little sword as it flew over his head. Kris would kill him if he lost it. "The Kris Allen reality show? Kris hates this stuff."
"Inside voice and I..." Leila shook her head. "I...wow."
"You didn't know?"
"No idea. What do you think?"
"I... I can't believe Kris is on a talk show by himself."
"That's true." Leila nodded. "That one time, so long ago, that he was on Leno with you I thought he was going to throw up."
"I remember," Adam agreed softly. "It was... it helped me believe in him, that he wasn't an attention whore hanging onto my coattails."
"I know. So... is he passing your tests now?"
Adam opened his mouth to protest, then shut it. His mother knew him too well. The only people who knew him as well were Dani and... "Kris knows me, doesn't he? He knows which buttons to press..."
"Do you trust him to push your buttons with love?"
Slicing across his throat with the sword, Adam grimaced. "Cut to the heart of it, don't you Mom?"
"What does that mean?" Kris challenged. "What the hell is going on? Tell me the truth."
"The truth is that I just want you to meet him, but I had to make sure you weren't a whore."
"I...wow." Kris ran his hands through his hair. "That's...blunt."
"Time is money. And to continue with the cliches -- the truth, they say, shall set you free."
"John 8:32," Kris said automatically. Seeing Geoffrey's surprise at his quick answer, he explained, "The Bible. Years of Bible study lessons. We used to get candy for identifying the passage first. I liked candy when I was a kid."
"The Bible, really? I thought it was Shakespeare." Geoffrey shrugged. "Ah well, who said it originally is irrelevant. The goal is the thing. Which is for you two to meet. The reason for my tests was... you know his history with those two wankers?"
"Yes." Kris nodded. "Damn. So you wanted to make sure I wasn't..."
"Indeed. My apologies for insulting you, but it was necessary." Geoffrey held out his hand and smiled when Kris shook it, accepting his apology. "So. Moving on. I want you to meet him because I think you two might be a match. But he can't know he's being set up."
"What?" Kris gasped, his mind reeling. "How could you think a small town boy..." He paused and thought, 'who'd slept in a trash-filled alley with rats...' He swallowed down the bitter taste of self-disgust and fear in his throat and finished, "How could I be a match for the Adam Fucking Lambert? What's goin' on? And why not, why can't I tell him?"
"He'll refuse to listen to you for one second after that. He'll tune you out. Because he cannot stand anyone telling him what to do. And normally I'd invite you to a party, but unfortunately I've done that a few too many times already with less than stellar choices on my part, so he's already got a forcefield up. So, no, you need to bump into him so that he thinks it's just serendipity and fate or some astrological who-ha and most of all, that he found a guy for himself. And not me."
"But... why me?" Kris repeated, afraid to hope, it had been so long since hope had come to fruition.
"Good question. You're his type, which doesn't hurt. You are also into music, you're polite, you're kind, you're a mama's boy, you have a good sense of humor and can be silly, you have enough stubbornness to out-stubborn a mule when you get going but in general you're easy going, you're not infected with the Hollywood mania about unhealthy skinniness being hot, and you couldn't be bought, which given Adam's last two boyfriends..."
"Oh yeah. Poor guy." Kris shook his head. "So you really think... I mean, wow. I've had..."
"The hots for him?" Geoffrey laughed. "Yeah, Hannah and I could tell."
"But the rest of it -- how did you know? We haven't talked often enough for you to know all that stuff."
"You've had quite a few gigs here, haven't you? Hannah's talked to you every time. And she's talked to the people you've worked with."
"Geez! Did you run a background check too?"
"Of course."
Kris' eyes opened wide. "You're seriously... protective, aren't you?"
"We love the guy. You protect who you love. That's what family does."
"Family." Kris nodded absently. He missed having a family. And... but, focus. "I... This is weird."
"If someone back home--"
"It's Conway. Not home."
"I see. Okay, so if someone back there had offered to set you up on a date with a guy they thought was a good match, would you have taken them up on it?"
"Ignorin' the fact that would never happen? Probably." Kris bit his lip. He'd love to meet Adam Lambert, for godssakes. But he was a mess. Just this shy of being homeless. A loser or near to it.
"So what's the hesitation?"
"I'm nobody goin' nowhere," Kris mumbled. "I don't even have a real nice shirt."
"I'd be happy to give you some money to help out."
"No--"
"You're going to throw a kindness back in my face? Is that how your mother raised you?"
Kris opened his mouth, then gave a low snort of laughter. "You're good."
"So I'm told." Geoffrey pushed a folded piece of currency across the desk towards Kris. "First of all, take this money because I'm paying you for your time today. Time is money. And I understand you called in sick to your job at McDonald's this morning to take this appointment. So I owe you. I pay my debts."
"But--" Kris froze as he saw the bill. He wanted to refuse, but that would buy food for weeks. And weeks. And he hadn't gotten his free breakfast this morning. And... he put his hand over his stomach. He was hungry. So tired of being hungry and tired. And having no hope. Geoffrey was offering him hope of something better, something... Was this one of those crossroads moments in life? Well, he couldn't take the right fork in the road if he'd rather eat the damn fork than walk down the road. Flushing with shame and embarrassment, he took the bill and shoved it into his pocket.
Softly, Geoffrey said, "Okay, so moving on. Would you like to meet him? What do you have to lose?"
"I really don't have anything to lose by meeting him, do I?" Kris agreed, his heart pounding at the idea of meeting Adam Lambert. And... he wasn't nervous, he realized. Excited? Yeah. But not nervous, not really. It felt like...a good idea. A solid idea. It was a chance, but what had he gotten by playing it safe? Maybe it was time to do something crazy. Something extraordinary.
"Not at all. Just meet him." Geoffrey pushed a slip of paper towards Kris. "Here's an address of a Starbucks he and his PA frequent. Hannah can help set the date and time up. So will you do it? See how it goes? Ask him out--"
"Wow, getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?" Kris asked, staring at the slip of paper. The key to his future? Whoa, dude. Talk about getting ahead of yourself.
"I've succeeded in business by positively imagining the next step."
"Oh. Good advice.... "Kris mused. He traced the warp and weft of the denim over his knee with his fingernail. If he were positively imagining meeting Adam Lambert.... Oh god. How awesome would that be? And if he liked Adam and Adam liked him, the next step would be a real date and... a kiss and... He grinned. "I'll do it!" he laughed and leaned forward to take the slip of paper, his knees sliding down as he did so.
Rrrrrippp
"Oh shit. Oh crap, now I really don't..." Kris flushed and looked away.
"You really don't what?"
"I sound like freakin' Cinderella. I don't have any decent clothes." Poking his finger through the rip on his knee and pulling at the white threads silky from years of washing, Kris mumbled, "These were my best pair of jeans. Were. Forget going to a ball, I couldn't even get into a decent restaurant looking like this."
"Then I suppose you'll have to take some money."
"Borrow. Mebbe." Kris touched the pocket where he'd put the bill.
"Fine." Geoffrey rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket for his money clip. "Here."
"I'm not taking that much money." Kris' eyes goggled as he saw the roll of money. "I... if I could borrow maybe twenty bucks to buy a new pair of jeans at the thrift store, I'd be mighty appreciative."
"Take one hundred. I don't have bills as small as a twenty." Geoffrey smiled and handed the bill over to Kris. Hopefully the boy would buy himself a steak with the rest of the money.
"I'll return the change," Kris countered.
"Oh ballocks." Geoffrey resisted the urge to pound his head against the desk. Kris Allen might be the most stubborn person he'd met since... Adam Lambert. Then again, he was better prepared. "I won't take it back. And I do have one other condition. Take this phone." Geoffrey slid an iPhone across the desk. "If you want to continue to get gigs, you need to be available via email to receive downloads of music and whatnot. Not negotiable."
Gingerly picking up the phone, Kris nodded reluctantly. Having to find time to run to the library to use the computers and internet there seriously limited his ability to look for gigs and communicate. This phone would be a godsend and maybe... maybe God was sending him some good luck. "I'll take it, with gratitude. How will I pay you back?"
"By being available when we call. It's a convenience for us." Geoffrey smiled. Adam was so damn busy, Kris had to be available to take his calls and messages when he was available or else the relationship would never get off the ground.
Kris narrowed his eyes. "Is this also to make it easier for Adam to contact me?"
"So suspicious. Tsk tsk." Geoffrey grinned.
"Ha. You're the man behind the curtain."
"And who are you? Scarecrow, Tin Man or the Lion?"
"I think... I'm Dorothy. But I'm not trying to get home. That home is gone. I want to find a new one."
"And..." Kris finished as the video faded away. "I did. I found a new one. With Adam."
"So..." Jay began. "You never told Adam about any of this?"
"No. I never told an outright falsehood. I just never told the full truth." Kris winced. "Well, 'just' isn't the right way to say that. It makes it sound less and a sin of omission isn't a lesser sin."
"I was raised Catholic, so I know all about the types of sin," Jay noted. "But if you could go back--"
"Have a do over?" Kris asked. "Yeah, if I could have a do over, I'd do everything the same way, the exact same way except for one thing. I'd definitely take the opportunity to bump into him, but I'd tell him that this... man behind the curtain -- but way more competent than Professor Marvel in Oz -- sent me to meet him because he thought we were perfect for each other."
"So no other regrets?"
"No-- well, yes. I'd keep better track of my phone." Kris smiled in relief when the audience laughed, then shifted in his seat and wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. "But I do wanna say one more thing. I want people to know that I always loved Adam. Always. I don't know if he knows this himself, but I was in love with him by the time he bought me a muffin to go with my coffee that day. I looked over at him and he had -- no lie -- glitter around him and all I could think of was that he was like that cheesy Carpenters' song come to life. You know the one -- Close to You?"
"The one about birds?" Jay asked.
Kris nodded, then began to sing softly, "'Why do birds suddenly appear every time you walk near?'...Yeah, I know it's cheesy, but that moment... I fell into his eyes. He's just... I just... I couldn't believe my luck when he seemed interested in me, bought me a coffee and invited me to sit down. And the way the sun fell on him, making that glitter sparkle, that moment is in my brain. It's surreal. Like magic or... I don't know. It all felt so.. inevitable. Like everything in my life -- getting thrown out by my parents, getting out here, pounding the pavement, getting nowhere, but I did get somewhere. Where I was supposed to be. I felt like it was fate, that... Geoffrey and his money and his set up was irrelevant."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I could have just been in that Starbucks that day and met him regardless and... It all could have really happened that way. Like it would have happened that way anyway. Destiny, you know?"
"That's very romantic. I'm pretty sure when I go home my wife will ask why I never tell stories like that about her. So thanks a bunch, Kris!" Jay teased, relieved when Kris smiled back at him. The way the guy as sweating, it was a wonder he wasn't sliding off the seat. "But this story..." Jay pointed to a tabloid on his desk. "Let's be honest. The story is very specific, which makes it more believable. This five thousand dollar business..."
"That." Kris sighed. "A stupid joke gone bad. Very very bad. This video is from the day after I met Adam at Starbucks."
"Why did you put that kinda money into my account?" Kris demanded angrily, his voice a deep rasp as he flung himself past Hannah with a mumbled apology the minute she'd opened the door for him. "Five thousand dollars to meet him? I told you before. I'm not a whore!"
"I know, calm down--"
"Then why are you paying me?"
"Sit down, if you please." Geoffrey pointed to the chair and waited while Kris threw himself into it and gave Geoffrey what he thought might be the shirtiest look he'd seen in ages. He hid his smile. "Let's cut to the chase as you Yanks say. I put money into your bank account because you need it and that sum is inconsequential to me."
"I do not--"
"Don't lie to me, Kris Allen. You most certainly do need it. You need it for expenses -- for example, to move out of that hellhole of an apartment."
"My apartment is fine."
"For the rats who live with you, yes, it is fine. For actual human beings? Not very."
"There aren't any rats!"
"You have no furniture."
"I have a chair. It's clean. I cleaned it myself. The orange mushrooms might have gotten a little... blurry over the years but it's a good chair. Sturdy. Comfy. I found it in the trash and cleaned it up, tightened the screws on it and it's good as new. It serves me well. It might be old and not very pretty and someone else might have thrown it away, but it's mine."
"That's your Coat of Many Colors?" Geoffrey asked.
"Dolly Parton?" Kris shook his head. "I don't do country."
"No. But that chair means more to you than a place to put your arse. You could probably find some lyrics that would resonate with others."
"Oh. You think?" Kris bent forward. He knew Geoffrey Brush was the best in the business, so if he was giving out free advice, Kris was going to listen. "If I teased out an idea about one man's trash is another man's treasure and..."
"Yes, like that." Geoffrey smiled. Kris' idiot father might have thrown him out, but Geoffrey was happy to be... Well. Someday. Bloody hell, he should have never let Teresa go. They could have a had a son of their own of Kris' age by now. "Listen. I gave you money for a few reasons. Keep the bloody chair if you want. It's not about the chair! It's about independence. I know independence is important to you. I agree. It was dependence and the dysfunctional power dynamics that resulted that ruined my marriage."
"To Teresa?" Kris asked, having had more than one conversation about 'the woman who got away.' "You should just call her up, try again."
"What if she rejects me?"
"Then at least you'll know." Kris nodded. "Won't that be better than wondering?"
"I'll think about it. But I want you to take that money so that you -- and Adam -- will know you're with him because you want to be with him. Not because it's easier to live with him or because of an economic incentive. But because you love him. Because you don't want to live without him. Because you need him, not his money." Geoffrey paused. "And he needs honesty."
"You want me to tell him?"
"Yes, I want you to tell him I pay you five thousand dollars every time you give him a blowjob."
Kris' mouth dropped open, then realizing Geoffrey was teasing in his dry British way, he shrugged. "Well, then you're gonna owe me a lot more money over time."
The two men stared at each other, then began giggling.
Hannah popped her head in the door. "You are both fools." She popped back out.
Kris wiped his eyes as their laughter faded and they sat there grinning at each other. He liked Geoffrey, really liked him. He was a cool guy, real nice, caring even. He felt a... kinship with him, more than he'd ever felt with his own father, if he was honest. So maybe Geoffrey felt the same way about him and there really was no insult intended. Just someone being nice. And wasn't it interesting that this stranger was kinder than the Christians back in the church in Conway? Christian is as Christian does, he'd read somewhere once. It was true. God's grace was found in actions, not in words.
"Seriously, Kris, two more points."
"Two more? Do you always lay everything out like a battle plan?"
"YES!" Hannah called from the other room.
"And that's why I win!" Geoffrey called back. "The battle plan comes after I go with my gut. First, my bet is Adam's going to take you to a nice restaurant and to an upscale club sooner rather than later. You're going to require money to buy a jacket and shirt and at least a decent pair of jeans or slacks. By which I mean something remotely designer. Unless you want to admit to him that you can't go because you don't have the clothes. If you're comfortable with that..." Geoffrey shrugged as Kris winced. "I have a feeling your pride might get in the way of furthering the relationship and pride isn't going to keep you warm at night, as they say."
"Oh crap. There's gonna be a dress code?" Kris asked, ignoring the comment about pride so he could think about it later. Excessive pride was a sin for a good reason.
"Yes. Ask around about nice restaurants. The most important clothing item is the jacket, for the record," Geoffrey suggested. Seeing that Kris still had a stubborn clench to his jaw, he continued, "Keep the money. Do what you want with it, but be forewarned -- I'm not taking it back. And here's my second point. A personal one for you alone. You may not want that money today, but it's a safety net so you won't have to be hungry. You don't have to touch the money right now. Save it. Save it in case you want to give Adam some amazing gift. If you want to fund your own cd someday. If you want to take a vacation. Give it to charity. Go on a mission trip with it. Buy instruments for inner city schools. Or save it for a rainy day. But it's a guarantee for you. For your independence in case you need it. Like a trust fund."
"A trust fund?"
"Yes, like a father would set up for his son. If..." Geoffrey hesitated, then added, "If you'd be... interested."
"Oh. Oh!" Kris flushed with pleasure. "Geoffrey, I... Thank you. I don't need it, but... I appreciate the idea. And the relationship." He grinned, eager to avoid more talk of his hunger and pitiful clothing. "So. Five thou a blowjob, huh?"
Kris heaved out a long breath and focused on Jay, the way Adam had told him to do all those years ago. "So that's...uh...it. That became this stupid joke..."
"What my wife calls stupid men tricks?"
"Yeah. A joke between guys. And ever' so often, Geoffrey would make deposits into that account and he'd always make that joke in his text telling me about the deposit. So if you didn't know what it was about, you'd think I was bein' paid to...uh..." Kris rubbed the back of his neck.
"So this so-called former associate who sold the story based upon what he stole from your phone, didn't know the story because why would he? It was a secret."
"Exactly." Kris nodded eagerly. "And what he left out -- conveniently -- is how I spent the stupid money. Stupid stupid money."
"Having seen that vintage jalopy you used to drive before Adam browbeat you into taking his last car, I know you didn't spend it on fast cars. Or fast women."
"Nah. I spent it on a birthday party and a vacation and basically stuff for our life together, so I felt like I was a partner, ya know?" Holding his hands palm up, Kris continued, "Geoffrey was right. It's really hard to not contribute your fair share and that money gave me some pride." He shook his head. "But then I had too much pride, then too much guilt to explain. Big mistake. But I wasn't bein' paid to be a whore or an actor or anything like that. I wasn't playin'a part. And the money was a gift and that's how I used it. And I'm deeply sorry that my pride and my fear of conflict meant I committed the sin of omission about this deal Geoffrey and I had. I love Adam."
"Well, I want to wish you two continued happiness," Jay finished. Turning to the camera, he added, "Up next is the comedian Gallagher, back on tour splitting watermelons!"
"Well?" Leila asked, turning to take the sword away from Adam's rolling but increasingly tight grip. She held his hand and look into his face. "What do you think? Or more to the point, what are you feeling?"
"Overwhelmed." Adam winced as his phone began beeping and picked it up, then turned it off. He needed to think, not hear what others were saying.
Nodding as she saw the mixture of hope and confusion and anger in Adam's eyes, Leila suggested. "I think we need a drink. I'll get it."
"Just gimme the bottle." Adam got up with his mother and followed her into the kitchen, pacing back and forth while his mother -- who was clearly a saint -- began to make margaritas.
"So..." Leila reached for the ice. "To start with, I still can't believe Kris went on Leno."
"He's so private..." Adam stopped. Kris was private.
"Kris is indeed private."
"Which means he's not a publicity whore. I already knew that."
"What else do you know?"
"I hate your mom-as-therapist voice."
"Would you rather I yelled?"
"At least then I could yell back."
"You honestly think you should yell at me? Ever?" Leila asked sternly, pushing the lid down on the blender.
"Mommmm...." Adam whined while the blender whirred to life.
"Don't whine."
"Then how about I yell?"
Hiding her smile and relief at the return of Adam's sense of humor, Leila shook her head. "How about you tell me what else you know about Kris?"
"Why don't you tell me what you know about Kris?" Adam prevaricated. "You never said."
"What I think is that Kris... well, I think he made a bad mistake. Very bad. But I also think the origins of that bad mistake are what led you two to meet, so it more than evens out, in my opinion. Not that I'll ever tell Geoffrey that. I'll let him continue to think I'll never forgive him for his interference."
Adam counted his steps as he paced in front of his mother. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 turn around and begin again.
"You look like a hamster in a wheel. Stop spinning and move forward," Leila urged. "Name your feelings. Why were you so quick to jump to the worst possible conclusions on New Year's Day?"
"What... I thought, all along, I was afraid it wasn't real. Too good to be true..." He paused as his mother poured the drinks and salted the rims. "And then...I remember when we were first going out, he'd occasionally have these little moments, when he was prickly or had an odd reaction... that made me anxious, but I didn't realize it until right now..."
"Like when? Maybe that's why you leaped so fast on New Year's Day."
"Maybe. And when? When he told me the story about the asshole at the Olive Garden? I made a crack about not whoring yourself out for a plate of cheap pasta and he got this odd look on his face." Adam grimaced. "I wondered then if he'd been so poor and so desperate that he'd actually done it and was too ashamed to admit it."
"What did you feel when you thought that?"
"Okay, Therapist Lambert," Adam teased. "I thought, I felt bad for him that he might have been that desperate. But that's different than what he did to me. Because a prostitute and a john both know what their relationship is. I was the one kept in the dark in this relationship."
"You're right," Leila admitted. If only Kris had been the one to confess what he'd done. Damn it, Kris. He'd been so afraid of being rejected, that he'd set himself up for rejection. "But I know he loves you. I remember how upset he was when he talked to Dani and Lane and me about intervening because you were working too hard."
"Humph." Adam took a long drink and decided on one last try. "Maybe he wanted to make sure I kept being productive. I needed that vacation to keep from getting burnt out. After all, if I screwed up, then the income flow decreases."
"Yes, because Kris was a high maintenance sort of man who needed huge income flow to be happy."
"Now you're mocking me because we both know Kris isn't anything of the sort. That damn chair of his..."
"Then why did you say that about the income flow?" Leila held up her hand.
"To be difficult." Adam took another sip. "But you know, he did act. That time in the restaurant. He -- and Geoffrey -- did act like they had only a passing and forgotten meeting."
"That's true. And he owes you an apology for that lie, which I suppose does fall under his sin of omission business. But let's bottom line this. It's gone on long enough and Kris just shot a cannonball over your bow. Kris not only loves you, he's besotted with you. That's the only explanation for him going on Leno. With videos!"
"Geoffrey and his damn control freakiness."
"But what can you deduce from what you saw? When you eliminate the impossible, it has to be the improbable."
"Yes, Sherlock. Damn, I still can't believe Kris went on there and told his story."
Leila nodded and watched Adam finish his drink and take his glass over to the sink.
Slowly turning the water on, Adam tilted the margarita glass into the stream of water, rotating it slowly, watching the remaining glittering granules of salt dissolve like tears washed away with clean water. "Kris hates people baring their souls in public. Well, except for through music. Then he has no fear."
"Fear is a powerful motivator, though, isn't it?" Leila asked watching Adam wash and re-wash the glass. "That's why Kris didn't tell you."
"He was afraid I'd get angry. And throw him out." Adam sighed, then slammed the glass down on the counter. "Which I wouldn't have done, if he had told me before! I would have never seen that evidence which was damning, damn it! And if I wasn't afraid I wouldn't have leaped to conclusions and I would have never thrown him out and why didn't he fight back, Mom? When I threw him out because I was afraid and that kind of surprise was going to freak me the fuck out and if he'd told me, I would have never thrown him out -- "
"Ah. That's an important truth." Leila froze as she saw a spasm of pain cross Adam's face, followed by guilt. "Adam?"
"I... oh god, I did to him just what his parents did. I threw him out. Oh god, oh god..." Adam moaned and covered his face. "What did I do? How could I have done that? How do I fix it?"
Leila heaved a relieved sigh and rushed over to wrap her arms around Adam as he began crying softly. These tears were good, cleansing.
Wiping his forehead of sweat, Kris took a long drink from the bottle of beer in front of him. "There's not enough alcohol to blunt that pain. God, I can't believe I did that."
Teresa got up and patted Kris' shoulder. "That interview had to make an impression. Geoffrey's phone hasn't stopped ringing."
"There's really only one call I want," Kris said, his hand clenched so hard around his phone that it began to cramp. He stared in bemusement as Teresa reached down and gently prised his fingers off the phone and set it on the couch.
Pushing Adam down into a kitchen chair, Leila handed him a paper towel and told him to wipe his face. "And baby. Don't make a bad mistake of your own out of pride. It's time."
"A man needs some pride, Mom," Adam whispered, but even he heard how half-hearted was his protest... why the hell bother? He shook his head. "Ack. There'ss stubborn and then there's stupid."
"I know," Leila agreed with a smile as she saw the realization on Adam's face that it was time to move past that. "You need your pride, but you also need love. You should find a way to fulfill both needs. They're not diametrically opposed."
"I need to move..." Adam jumped up, whirled around and headed for the living room.
"If you're leaving, don't forget your sword!" Leila called out.
"Why? Am I storming a castle?" Adam took the sword from his mother's hand. "That doesn't sound like fun."
"Nice Princess Bride reference, sweetie." Leila leaned back and watched Adam stalk around the room. Adam had that white knight syndrome. He actually would enjoy storming a castle. Then again, so would Kris. And maybe... Adam needed to be stormed. He'd enjoyed it how Kris had been the one to pursue him the first time. Maybe he needed it a second time, a do-over of his own and... she looked at the tv where some fool was splitting a watermelon. Oh. Kris. She shook her head. That boy did know Adam.
"But speaking of needing a sword..." Adam frowned as he looked at the little piece of worthless plastic, that wasn't so worthless. Things were often, it seemed, not what they appeared. "I need to send a text."
Ring
"Is it... It's Adam. A text." Kris pointed at his phone as it played the notes for Adam's song, "Thirty-Eight Cents".
"Well, pick it up!" Teresa ordered.
"What?" Geoffrey raced around the corner. "Is it Adam?"
"Yes, but I --" Kris closed his eyes. "Okay. Here goes..." He picked up the phone and stared at it.
"Well?" Geoffrey asked a moment later. "What does it say?"
"That you're the nosiest man on the face of the earth?" Teresa said with a sigh. When Kris stayed silent, just staring at his phone, she sighed again. "Well? Are you going to tell us?"
TBC--------> Chapter 58.3 Needs More Glitter.