Chapter 13 Jennifer wasn’t sure what she’d just walked in on but Justin seemed flushed and breathless. Her concern deepened as he immediately moved to his room. She followed him. “Justin.” She called knocking lightly on his door. He threw it open. “Need a hazard inspection? Are you going to take my shoe laces?” He asked. “Justin, I refuse to apologize for worrying about you. Your counselor said…” “He’s not my counselor anymore.” Justin announced. Jennifer furrowed her brow sighing. “Justin, you have to see a counselor.” Her resolve was firmly in place. “Or what?” He questioned. “Or…”She hesitated wishing she had something to use as incentive. She considered making it a condition for his living in her home but knew he had amassed enough money to move out and would do so shortly with or without her threats or conditions. Once he left, she wasn’t sure how she would ever keep up with how he was really doing. It would be as it had been when he’d been living in Paris. Andy dying, Justin exhausted and broke, but still trying to reassure Jennifer that he was handling it. She sighed rubbing her hand across her temple. “Justin, you must keep seeing a counselor, or…” She repeated trying to buy some time. “I’m dropping him. He broke my trust and I’m dropping him. I’m telling him tomorrow.” Justin shut the door leaving his mother standing alone in the hallway still trying to figure out what she could possibly say to keep her son under Morgan Perkins’s care. Moving away from the door, Jennifer contemplated calling Brian, but felt conflicted about that as well. Heading into the kitchen she opened a bottle of wine then poured herself a drink. She sat at the kitchen table staring at the glass of chardonnay for the longest time before finally burying her face into her hands and weeping. ********* Morgan recognized the man waiting outside his office as he escorted his client to the receptionist’s desk in order to make a follow-up appointment. He felt very protective of his clients and found himself uncharacteristically suspicious as to why this man was waiting for him. He knew who his man was. After all, Paul Connor was well known in the gay community not to mention was now heading the GLC Board. Morgan wondered what Center business would bring the man to his office. He had his suspicions that it wasn’t center business but perhaps a certain blond that was the reason behind the visit. Justin had only touched briefly on the recent developments involving Paul Connor. There was still so much Justin held back. Morgan always felt protective of his clients but for some reason he felt even more compelled to protect Justin Taylor especially in the face of Connor, a man who appeared to be almost predatory in nature. Upon his return, Paul stood and extended his hand. “Mr. Perkins?” Morgan accepted the man’s hand in a firm grip. “Mr. Connor.” He hesitated only for a moment before moving into his office without inviting the new GLC Chairman to follow. He had suspected that it was a futile strategy but had decided to try it anyway. “I was wondering if you could spare me a moment or two?” Paul asked keeping his tone light, hiding his resentment at Morgan’s lack of courtesy. “I’m a little busy at the moment. Perhaps you could set up an appointment.” Morgan attempted watching as Paul advanced. He noted the confidence with which the man moved and wondered at the power Justin must possess over Brian Kinney in order to dethrone such a man from Kinney’s life. Paul cleared his throat pulling the counselor from his thoughts. “It will only take a moment.” Paul assured him moving past the smaller man and into his office as though he somehow owned it. “I see that your window has been fixed.” He pressed on. Morgan paused wondering how much Paul knew about the accident. Morgan made a mental note to remind his receptionist about the need for client confidentiality. “What is it that you need?” Morgan moved past the man to his desk. “I was at the hospital yesterday.” Paul gave the man a knowing look. Morgan narrowed his eyes. “I’m on the board there as well.” He offered as way of explanation. “I saw you there with a young man who is a client of yours I believe.” “I’m not allowed to discuss –“ “He is the one that attempted to take his life, here on the premises, am I correct?” Paul pressed. “I’m not sure what his intent was when the accident occurred and I will not discuss my clients with—“ Morgan persisted. “Our insurance rates will naturally go through the roof if the company were to find out.” Paul offered. Morgan sensed the veiled threat. “I must also inform you that whispers of the incident have already reached the ears of many of the board members. I’m sure there will be some questions that you will be called to answer.” Morgan felt himself stiffen at the thought of an inquiry. He began to think back over all of the many sessions with Justin. Had he done anything unprofessional or reckless that could be used to damage his practice during a formal hearing? “I’ve had other incidents. I was not questioned then.” He defended himself, his tone both firm and suspicious. Paul smirked as he made his way over to the window that Justin had broken. “Perhaps this is an investigation that isn’t merely about what occurred the other day but has been necessitated by the history or pattern if you will that the board is now seeing in your practice. Think of it as an investigation of a culmination of incompetence, if you will.” Paul offered enjoying the way Morgan’s cheeks and neck reddened at the insinuation. “It may prove necessary to suspend your case load until the board regains its confidence in your ability to manage this practice.” Paul looked out gazing down on the near vacant parking lot wondering what it had been that Justin had needed that led him to his window. “I don’t understand.” Morgan felt a panic seize him. Any bravado that the man had been clinging to had disappeared at the thought of losing his practice. With two young children at home he could not afford to have his practice suspended. He was surprised to find that he was more frightened than offended by the threat. “The board is concerned about what occurred in this office yesterday between you and your client. What is so hard to understand about that Mr. Perkins?” Paul turned confronting the man. “Surely you can see where there would be some need for a thorough explanation and investigation by the board.” “I haven’t done anything wrong.” Morgan hated the defensive tone he heard in his own voice. As a counselor he was well aware of what game Mr. Connor was playing and why. He felt powerless though to stop it. “Well if that is true then you have nothing to fear.” Paul offered an insincere smile. “I will need your files.” “What?” Morgan cried in outrage. “That is unethical.” “What is unethical is a counselor who sits back, refusing to intervene while one of his clients makes an attempt on his own life.” Paul countered then pressed on refusing to allow Morgan the opportunity to defend himself. “You have a family don’t you Mr. Perkins?” Paul’s sudden shift in tone threw the young counselor as he tried to decide why Paul was feigning interest in his personal life. “What does that have to do with anything?” Morgan asked. “Just thinking.” Paul offered, “So hard to adopt when the couple is a same sex partnership.” Morgan narrowed his eyes getting his first real look at what this man was capable of. He’d underestimated him and now was realizing that Justin had as well. Paul’s voice rang out with a note of compromise. “As a concession to you for choosing to cooperate with the investigation, I will convince the board that we need only review your treatment of one client, Mr. Taylor.” “Why are you really doing this Mr. Connor?” Morgan asked knowing this was not a man that a person wanted working against him. “It’s my responsibility to protect this center from exposure to possible legal entanglements.” Paul held out his hand for the file. “Surely you can understand this.” Morgan glanced at his desk, his gaze landing on the framed photograph of his partner and their two children. He hated feeling so trapped and helpless. Sighing he opened his file drawer and pulled out Justin’s information. He paused for a moment, a part of him desperately clinging to the last shred of ethics before finally dropping it on the corner of his desk. Paul smirked triumphantly as he quickly moved to the desk taking the file. “Good choice.” He flippantly spat as he perused the first two pages. “I need to work.” Morgan replied refusing to meet the taller man’s gaze which shot up from the pages before him. Morgan tasted defeat in his mouth. He felt like a sell out and knew it was with good cause. “Don’t worry Mr. Perkins.” Paul reassured the counselor as he opened the file once more, his eyes dancing over the juicy details before him. “I’m sure I can use my persuasive skills to convince the board of your continued value to our community and to this center.” Morgan didn’t respond as he watched Paul turn and leave, holding in his hand the very information that moments ago Morgan thought he was willing to sacrifice everything to protect. ******* Brian sat going over the details Ted had left behind. The accountant had pitched two accounts that afternoon while Brian had been out of the office all afternoon. “Brian?” He glanced up and offered Cynthia a weary smile. “Did you see him?” She asked as he moved further into the man’s office. “Yes, he’s in some pain but he should be fine.” Brian replied returning to the notes before him. “We got a call today.” Cynthia teased happily. Brian raised his brows awaiting for the woman to drop the other shoe. “Champagne Villibord.” Her eyes lit with excitement as the prestigious winery’s name flowed from her lips. “Really?” Brian hid his excitement but Cynthia had long since learned the subtle signs that her boss was pleased. “Yes and they are coming to town.” She sat across from him her voice almost giddy with anticipation. “Down girl.” Brian teased. “I doubt free booze will be a part of this deal.” She laughed and he joined her. “So what do we know?” “Owner is Monsieur Philippe Villibord, the winery has been in his family for two generations. It’s located about an hour outside of Paris. They produce champagne and have been extremely successful in France and other European markets but are now finally ready to bring it over the ocean. Monsieur Villibord does not speak English but hopefully at least a couple of his creative team will.” Cynthia paused looking up. “We should have an interpreter just in case. “I think we already do.” Brian leaned back in his chair motioning for her to continue. Instead Cynthia furrowed her brow. “I didn’t know you spoke French?” “I don’t, but we both know someone who lived over there for a few years.” Cynthia rolled her lips into her mouth knowing exactly who Brian was referring to. “Don’t stop.” Brian commanded. Cynthia took a breath then launched into the rest of the research she’d gathered. ************* Morgan heard the knock on his door then glanced at the clock. It was almost seven. He wasn’t sure where the time had gone. “Come in.” He called thinking it was the receptionist announcing that she was calling it a day. Instead he found Justin Taylor standing in the door way. He felt a sudden flood of guilt knowing he had just helped to equip the blond’s biggest enemy a couple of hours earlier. “You have a minute?” Justin asked his expression grim. Morgan stood as he gestured to the couch. “That won’t be necessary.” Justin explained curtly. “What’s on your mind?” Morgan asked feeling incredibly uncomfortable. “Whatever happened to client confidentiality?” Justin asked angrily. Morgan felt his mouth go dry. Had Paul Connor already confronted Justin with the notes Morgan had made during their sessions? Had Connor already revealed the counselor’s personal theories behind the blond’s prolonged grief and inability to move on? “What are you talking about?” He felt himself breaking out into a cold sweat. “I’m talking about your little slip with my Mother.” Justin replied noting Morgan’s discomfort. He watched as the man visibly relaxed. “Oh that.” Morgan swallowed regaining his composure. “Yeah, that.” Justin spat confused by the man’s reaction. “What did you think I was talking about?” He asked curiously. “I had no idea.” Morgan fumbled slightly. Justin was too angry to notice. “I don’t appreciate what you indicated to my Mother. Not only was in incorrect but now she is worried I’m about to off myself.” Justin kept his tone deep and level. Morgan shook his head. “Justin, I was concerned. You said it was an accident, but—“ “I was trying to open the window.” Justin argued. “I had already told you it was painted shut.” Morgan replied wearily. “Look, I can’t convince you. I get that. That’s fine. I think it was unethical for you to reveal something to her without any proof. Whatever happened to client confidentiality?” Justin returned to his original question. “Justin, sometimes a counselor has to consider what he thinks is in his client’s best interest.” Morgan defended his actions ignoring the sick feeling of hypocrisy that filled him. “Are you always this considerate?” Justin asked sarcastically. “Why don’t you come in, sit down, and we can talk about this.” Morgan offered. “No.” Justin replied firmly. “I came by to tell you that I won’t be keeping my next appointment.” Morgan felt the blow as quickly as he heard it. Of all the clients that he was seeing at the moment, Justin was the one he was the most concerned about. “Justin, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Morgan offered sincerely. “Well I don’t think having you for my counselor is a good idea.” Justin replied honestly. “So just bill me for what I owe and we’ll call it done.” “Justin, at least let me try to help you find someone else.” Morgan felt a biting urgency to keep the young man in contact with someone who could help him deal with all the grief and guilt issues he was still struggling with. “Why do you care?” Justin asked curiously. “We know each other. I was thinking just the other day how under other circumstances we might be friends.” Morgan admitted. “No.” Justin replied wearily. “You wouldn’t want me for a friend.” He rolled his lips into his mouth before finishing. “Too selfish.” He glanced up meeting Morgan’s gaze before leaving the man in his office. Morgan couldn’t help but contrast the slight blond to the man who had visited him earlier in the day. They were like daylight and dark, no wonder Brian Kinney had left one for the other. Morgan wondered what Paul Conner was planning to do to with the information he had taken concerning Justin. Whatever it was, given Justin’s present state of mind, Morgan doubted that Justin would ever see the attack coming. ************* The art department was buzzing with activity when Justin arrived at nine. He hadn’t been late before and was in fact missing those few early hours of peace and quiet he usually had before his co-workers arrived. The department manager had been by to check on him, see what his limitations would be. Cynthia had also come by concerned about his injury as had many of the other artists in the office. Justin had expected another face to show up to ask about him, but as he clock hit ten the artist was accepting that perhaps Brian had finally gotten the message. Justin kept an eye open for Brian just in case. By eleven, Justin had accepted that perhaps Brian had wised up. Maybe after going home Brian had realized that Justin was right in what he’d said about their relationship. Just as Justin was beginning to succeed at rationalize that the disappointment he was feeling was related to his inability to use his hand instead of the conspicuous absence of a certain brunet, said brunet glided into the room. “We have a new account! Champagne Villibord” Brian announced to the room. “It’s our first international campaign if we can get it. Their creative team arrives in four weeks with, Monsieur Philippe Villibord the owner of the winery. I need someone who is fluent in French and understands advertising enough to comprehend what they are wanting as well as explain what we can offer.” Brian paused meeting the eyes in the room. “No one in the other departments fit the bill.” He paused his gaze seeking out one set of baby blues from among all the others. “Anyone here ever lived in Paris?” All eyes turned to the blond sitting in the back at his drafting table. Justin met Brian gaze as he slowly raised his hand wondering why Brian was putting on this charade. “Great.” Brian clapped his hands in front of him as if signally that something was settled. He turned his attention away from Justin and back to the rest of the department. “Taylor will be the Art Department member of the team. He will be working with me, Cynthia and Erin Alexander.” Brian started for the door. “Taylor.” He called causing Justin’s eyebrows to rise in response. “I’ll need you in my office in an hour.” He disappeared leaving Justin alone to decide if it was a plot or coincidence. Somehow it seemed remotely familiar as a small smile painted itself onto Justin’s lips as he realized that this manipulation had the familiar stench of stalking. **************** Justin stood in the doorway of Brian’s office as the man finished a call. He stood watching the man as he spoke, but he wasn’t listening to the conversation. He was hearing the words Brian had spoken the previous day. Words about wanting another chance and not giving up, Justin knew it was dangerous to linger on those thoughts. Those thoughts produced feelings of hope, something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in over a year. Brian glanced up and motioned for Justin to take the chair across from his desk. Justin entered feeling slightly uneasy from being in such close proximity to Brian. There had been a time in his life when actually being invited into this man’s office would have been the highlight of his day, but those days were gone and now he felt riddled with anxiety. He chalked his feelings up to being selected to work on the Villibord campaign. He’d tasted the champagne before at several of the gallery openings that he had worked. In fact he and Andy had consumed it once in a mad reckless attempt to forget their impoverished life. He suddenly felt a chill as he passed too close to memories that he had been trying to forget. Brian hung up the phone noting the distant look in Justin’s eyes. He fought his concern wondering if he’d made a mistake assigning Justin to the account. He knew it had to bring back memories, ones the blond was no doubt running from, but it was time for Justin to confront his past if they had any hope of securing a future together. Brian ignored the need to let Justin off the hook and instead pressed on. “So, fluent in French.” He stated more than asked. Justin gave him a slight nod. “I guess St. James wasn’t such a bad school in spite of their taste in uniforms.” Brian teased. “I can remember a few nights when you actually seemed to like that uniform.” Justin teased catching Brian slightly off guard as the older man smile and laughed softly. “You were the one who seemed to enjoy playing good boy; bad boy.” Brian replied meeting Justin’s gaze enjoying the blush that colored the blond’s cheeks. For a moment it was easy for them. It was familiar and felt like days gone by, two men understanding and accepting each other, but then the young brave man seemed to shrink away before Brian’s eyes. Brian watched the wall come back up and cloud the mischievous glint that had been shining in Justin’s blue eyes. “When did you say the team was arriving?” Justin asked quickly returning to business, sobering the room. “In a month.” Brian allowed it though he continued to watch the blond carefully. “I don’t know much about the French culture.” “I thought you knew everything.” Justin challenged sounding so much like the seventeen year old Brian had fallen for. There was a battle going on inside of the younger man and Brian was just now seeing it. It was as if there was a part of Justin that wanted to be alive again, but something was keeping it at bay, holding it captive, forcing it high up in a tower where life would pass it by. The struggle was obvious but the resolution far from clear. Brian knew that the man who had shared his loft all those years was strong, but so was this version of Justin. He possessed the same dogged determination he had those years back but now it was as if Justin was as adamant that they would not find happiness together as he had been at one time that they would. That persistence had worn Brian down once, he wondered now if it would win out again. “Brian?” Justin questioned furrowing his brow. Brian cleared his throat giving him a smirk to hide his darker thoughts. “I know everything about sex yes, about France, no.” Brian replied smoothly recovering. “I took German not French.” “German?” Justin asked incredulously. “A little guttural for you I would think.” He quipped. “I like the gutter.” Brian replied suggestively. “Yes, well not too many Armani suits in the gutter.” Justin stated his doubt evident. “Gehen Sie fickt sich” Brian replied a sarcastically. Justin laughed. “Vous ne le feriez pas plutôt ?” Justin asked leaning forward seductively on Brian’s desk. Brian furrowed his brow. “We had to take two languages at St. James, couldn’t get into Italian.” Justin explained with a smirk. “And I really doubt telling someone to go fuck themselves is going to get you very much business.” He returned to his seat feeling self satisfied. Brian ignored the barb choosing instead to focus instead on Justin’s reaction. “Yes.” Brian replied the lust evident in his eyes. “Yes what?” Justin asked wondering why Brian was answering an obviously rhetorical question. “You think you can get business telling people to go fuck themselves?” “No, that wasn’t the question I was answering. “ He smirked. “Yes, I would rather fuck you myself.” Brian offered sincerely surprising the blond. ”You said you didn’t speak French.” Justin argued feeling slightly betrayed. “I don’t.” Brian defended as he began searching for the Villibord file. Finding it he handed it to Justin as he added. “But I translate body language better than anyone.” Justin accepted both the file and the reply, no longer finding this game amusing. “I’ll need a crash course on French culture. How about you come over tonight and we can talk.” Brian offered. “Why can’t we talk now?” Justin asked not wanting to be alone with the man. If Justin were going to honest with himself he would have to admit that being this close to Brian was difficult both physically and emotionally, luckily for Justin, the blond had no intentions of being honest with himself, especially where Brian was concerned. “I have things to do.” Brian replied roughly. “Besides I’m the boss, you’re the employee, we are meeting tonight at the loft, be there. I’ve already notified the other team members.” He moved on to prepare for his two o’clock presentation, clearly dismissing Justin. Justin rose, taking the Villibord file with him. He felt the urge to argue the point but knowing the rest of the creative team would be there made the thought of being at the loft less threatening. Justin wondered why he felt such a strong desire to stay away from a man that he still had such deep unresolved feelings for. How many times had he lain awake, Andy’s warm body beside him, and yet Justin’s mind miles away over an ocean in bed with another man? How many times had he spent the night sitting at their bedroom window bathed in moonlight staring at the only images he had of Brian, the few sketches that remained? It was bitterly ironic that everything Justin had ever wanted was being offered now just when he had no choice but to turn it down. His love for Brian had cost Andy too much. The obsession that had started under a street lamp on Liberty Avenue had traveled across an ocean and driven Justin’s young lover into the arms of another. It was all Justin’s fault. It was about never being satisfied and how that inability to accept less, managed to cost others far more than Justin had ever realized. No, it was for Brian’s own good that Justin keep his distance. Justin was dangerous. After all he’d watched Andy endure, Justin knew that his love for Brian was more than just dangerous, it was lethal.