Loving Justin’s art.


Jason Kintzer. Brian felt strangely proud of Justin that Kintzer had liked his work enough to take him on. It was an amazing opportunity. He and Sam put the paintings back in Justin’s locker, not saying much. Justin’s last painting was the only one left, and Brian was reluctant to put it away.
Sam came and stood next to him, both of them staring at it.

“It looks like spring,” Sam said. “When the peach trees are in bloom, and the petals are blown away in the wind, you know?”

Brian could see it clearly, as Sam described it. It did look like spring.

“At first, it reminded me of water in the evening,” said Brian, “of the eddies of water around rocks.”

“Oh, my god, I can completely see that!” agreed Sam. “Why did you say ‘at first’? What do you see now?”

"I just looked at it for a while, and I started feeling it, instead of seeing it. And it feels like one of the best things in my life, right now.” Brian was surprised he had said that, but Sam was just looking at the painting, and blinking slowly.

“It feels like… falling in love,” he said. “It reminds me of when I fell in love with Katie. Wow. I didn’t think a painting could do that. I wonder if it’s like what you see at first, if it feels different for everyone…”

Sam turned to Brian. “I can’t believe this kid works for us. He is a fucking genius, when it comes to images. His paintings, his designs. It’s like Picasso working for Plexus. Julie, Randy, the others, we all want to keep him. You should offer him a job, Brian.

“He works four hours a day busing tables while he’s in school. We could hire him part time. He likes the job, and it would look better on his resume than working at a diner. I talked to Paul and Alan about it, but they said you’re handling the hiring for the next eighteen months.”

“You are going to get a new intern in January, Sam. Cheap labor. Why should we pay Taylor a real salary when we’ll have another Pratt student practically for free?”

“We’re swamped. We’re all working ten-hour days, sometimes more. There’s plenty of work to go around. You’re going to have to hire another Creative Manager soon anyway, or some people are going to quit. Vangard has been trying to recruit Julie for months, and I get calls from headhunters. I’m not saying we’re going to go, but we need more help, and Justin works well with all of us. He just fits. You don’t even need to pay him more than a starting salary, or give him the title. He’d be thrilled to be ‘Assistant creative manager’, I’m sure, and he works like a dog. If we hire someone else, they’ll be way more expensive than that, and probably only half as good.” Sam shrugged. “Think about it.”

He picked up the painting to put it away, but Brian stopped him. “Leave it. You can go. Give me his key, and I’ll lock up. I just want to look at it for a while longer.”

“Why don’t you buy it?”

“I tried. Taylor says this one’s not for sale.”

Sam nodded. He handed Brian the key and headed out. “Katie’s probably wondering what happened to me,” he joked. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. See you.”

After Sam left, Brian sat on a stool, in front of the easel. He let his eyes roam over the picture, and let himself feel. “Feels like…falling in love,” Sam had said. Different people obviously felt different things. To him, it felt like holding Justin on the dance floor, the two of them still, in the sea of moving bodies, kissing him until he could feel Justin melt against him.

The light was beginning to fail, and as he looked outside, he saw snowflakes starting to fall against the evening sky. He looked at the painting again, and saw exactly that. Flurries of snowflakes in the evening sky, with the reflection of the setting sun. This painting was fucking magical. He picked it up, took it to Justin’s storage and locked it in.

He was pretty sure he had first dibs on it. Until Justin decided to sell it, that was the next best thing. He called a cab and went home, eating reheated Thai takeout and watching Dirty Dancing while talking to Mikey. His cell phone was on the coffee table, within reach.

Mikey was excited about his coming visit to Pittsburgh, and was babbling away, Brian having only to say a couple of words once in a while to keep him going. They said good night when Ben and Hunter came home, and Brian watched the movie, speaking the entire dialogue right along with the actors. Some of it was so corny it was funny. ”Nobody puts Baby in the corner…” It made him smile every time…

He woke up at three-thirty with a kink in his neck. Jeremy hadn’t called. Justin hadn’t made it to the club. For a second, he wondered if Kintzer was gay, if he and Justin… he really disliked the way his thoughts were going and was glad to remember that Kintzer was married to Carrie, Sam’s cute little sister. They had four kids, or something ridiculous like that. He had met Kintzer that afternoon, and his gaydar had been completely silent.

Maybe Justin had just been tired after all the excitement of the day. Maybe he hadn’t felt like venturing in the snow. Maybe last night had been a bit much and he’d wanted to stay away from Brian. Fuck. He should not have given him E. Justin didn’t even drink. In his office the other day, he had hardly had a taste of his J&B. He always drank water at the club. He probably never did drugs.

But why should Brian give a fuck? This was fucking ridiculous. Whatever… Brian didn’t give a flying shit. As soon as Justin finished his internship, he would fuck the hell out of him. Justin had been willing enough the night before. Then, he would be out of Brian’s system for good. And life would get back to normal.

He went to bed and fell back asleep, and did not dream of Justin. Yes, he woke up in the morning with come all over his belly and chest, but he couldn’t honestly remember anything. It was far more likely that he had dreamt of Patrick Swayze than of Justin fucking Taylor.

***

In the morning, he went to see Alan as soon as he got to the office.

“Alan, you know how much you said you liked the painting in my office? I found another by the same artist, that we can put in the lobby instead of the awards.”

Alan smiled. He loved Brian’s taste, and knew that if Brian liked something, he would too. “The award wall is for shit anyway. No one ever looks at it,” he replied. “What were you thinking of doing with them?”

“I thought we could hang them in the corridor, from the elevator to the lobby, where people would actually notice them.”

“Sounds good. How soon can we get the painting?” Alan asked.

“Well, Plexus needs to cut a check of $3000.00 for the artist, and we can have it delivered early afternoon.”

“3000? That’s a bargain. How big is the piece?”

“Huge, 10X8. It’s going to look fabulous.”

Alan picked up his phone.

“Betsy, can you print a $3000.00 check to a… What’s the name, Brian?”

“Justin Taylor.”

“To a Justin Taylor, and bring it for me to sign, please? No, no, not little Justin. It’s the name of the artist that did Brian’s painting. Yes. Yes, Brian has found another one for our lobby. Yes, if it’s anything like it, it will be great.” He hung up. “She’ll be right in. Everybody loves the one in your office, you know.”

“Little Justin?”

“Oh, he’s this sweet kid that works in the Art Department. Intern from Pratt. He uses my treadmill and my shower at lunch. Betsy’s taken a real shine to him. He took the photo of her kids from her desk and made this really sweet charcoal portrait of them. Really nicely done. She’s having it framed for her husband for Christmas.” He added as an aside, “We really don’t pay these kids enough. He couldn’t even afford a temporary membership at the gym. But, I guess they do get a lot of experience here. Sam really likes this one. Asked me to hire him. I told him you were the one doing the hiring for the next while, and that I am the facilities’ guy this term…”

Betsy came in, interrupting him. Brian wondered for a second if he should enlighten Alan about “Little Justin’s” relationship to the $3000.00 check he was signing, and decided against it. Nothing to gain by it.

Alan handed him the check. “Can’t wait to see this. I’ll call maintenance and have Dwayne move the awards right now, and prepare the back wall.”

“Great. I’ll get the ball rolling.”

Brian took the elevator down to the Art Department, checking himself out in the mirror panel. He looked great. He didn’t want to think about why he cared.

Sam’s domain was a madhouse. Randy, Julie and Sam had fourteen worker bees, plus Justin, to do the grunt work for the art required by the ad execs upstairs. Julie, Randy and Sam were the creative drive, but they really used their people well. Right now, though, there was a lot of tension and shouting going on.

Obviously, they were against the clock on several projects, and feeling the crunch. They really needed a fourth creative manager, even if only part time. Brian thought back to Sam’s request that he offer the job to Justin. But Brian had other more important plans for Justin, after his internship was over. He had waited this long. No way was he going to let anything stand between him and that ass. They should just promote internally.

The ass in question was delightfully displayed right now, as Justin was bent over his desk, inking some project. He turned around when he heard Julie greeting Brian, and the smile he gave him made Brian’s heart skip a beat. Justin’s gaze went from his Gucci shoes up his beautifully cut Prada suit and back to his face, and Brian knew he looked hot. He could see it in his eyes. He came to stand very close to Justin, at least a half a foot in his personal space, and smiled back.

He loved seeing the blush that started at Justin hairline and spread down to the neck of his t-shirt.

“I’ve got something for you,” he said, leaning even closer. He knew he was making a bit of a spectacle, but in the madness going on, it could hardly attract attention.

“Oh, yeah?” said Justin, blinking slowly, responding to the innuendo.

“Really, Taylor. Not that. This…” And he waved the check in front of Justin’s face, stepping back to a respectable distance.

Justin automatically grabbed it. He looked at it, recognized what it was and looked up to smile at Brian again.

“Wow. That’s a lot of money.”

Brian couldn’t help but shake his head, smiling.

"I’m just glad we got to you before Kintzer sunk his claws in. I don’t think we’ll be able to afford you, pretty soon.”

Justin laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said.

“Don’t knock it, Justin,” said Brian, hating for him to belittle his talent. “I’m really proud of you.”

What the fuck? Where the hell had that come from? But Justin’s radiant smile made him glad he’d said it. Why he should care what Brian thought was beyond him, but whatever.

“Did you find yourself an attorney?”

“Yes. I’ve already talked to someone.”

“Good. It’s important you be well represented. What’s his name?”

It wouldn’t cost Brian anything to check the guy out.

“Her name. Jessica Hammon. I really like her,” said Justin looking enthusiastic.

“Great. Do you think you can get the painting here today?”

“Yes. I think so. I don’t think they’ll mind…”

Just then, Randy arrived with a pile of sketches on cardboard.

“Justin, look at these… Oh, hi, Brian. Anything we can do for you?”

“No. I was just leaving. See you this afternoon, Taylor.”

He backed away, watching Justin talk to Randy about whatever he had brought along, as an equal, pointing and making suggestions. He looked perfectly at home. Brian felt a moment of doubt, then his eyes fell to Justin’s ass, as he was once again leaning forward, and he smiled inwardly. Priorities…
 

***

At two o’clock, he was called to reception. Two big guys, looking extremely put out, were holding the bulky 10X8 painting, wrapped in brown paper, bubble-wrap and twine. Sarah, the receptionist, was all atwitter.

“Put it there, boys,” he said, taking charge. “Thanks for bringing it.” He handed each of them fifty bucks, and they suddenly looked a lot happier.

“We gotta go,” said one. “We’re running late.”

“We’re double parked,” said the other.

“Where’s Taylor?”

“The kid? He said he’d ride the subway. There was no place in the van. Pushy little shit,” answered the second guy, not unkindly, already heading out.

“Yes. He can be quite determined,” agreed Brian, smiling sympathetically.

“Oh, is that what you call it, in the big city?” laughed the guy, as he opened the door. Brian could hear the horns of the cars stuck behind their white van blaring before the door closed back up. He smiled to himself.

He paged Wayne from maintenance, and borrowed a pair of scissors from Sarah to unwrap the painting. Five minutes later, it was out. It looked even better than it had the day before. “Call Alan, Paul, Marcus and I down when it’s up, OK, Sarah?”

She was looking at the painting in awe.

“It’s really big, “ she said, confirming for Brian that she was a complete twat.

He smiled a perfectly forced smile at her, and walked away before he said something that would make her cry again. He didn’t need another lecture from Marcus on Christian charity.

When Cynthia opened his door and gestured to him during his call to Jeffrey Sidoff’s people an hour later, he quickly brought it to an end, and headed down.

He met Paul in the elevator.

“Sarah just called Emily and said I was wanted in the lobby. Do you know anything about this?”

“Yes. We have a new painting. Alan wanted your opinion. It’s kind of going to change the lobby’s look a bit.”

“Oh. OK.”

Alan and Marcus were already there, standing by Sarah’s counter. Alan turned to Brian, a huge grin on his face.

“It’s perfect,” he said.

Marcus did not even bother to look away from the painting. “This is unbelievably good. I like it even better than the one in your office. I can’t believe we only paid 3000 for it.”

Coming from Marcus, who was a bit of a tightwad, that was a real endorsement. They all stared at the painting in silence.

“It really sets the tone for the lobby. And for the firm,” commented Paul, after a while. “It says, ‘We fucking own this city!’ It’s a really good choice. Well done, Alan.” Good. Paul liked it too.

Brian didn’t mind Alan not crediting him for the find. He had slightly overstepped the bounds, acquiring the painting before consulting him, since Alan was in charge of the facilities for the next period.

“What do you think, Sarah?” asked Marcus, always thoughtful of the little people.

“It’s really big,” she answered, seriously.

Brian was glad to see Paul roll his eyes. They all headed back to the elevators.

“I like the new placement for the awards, as well,” commented Paul, who had received the lion's share of them. “At least, now, people can see them.”

There was more positive noise in the elevator, and when they all returned to work, it was obvious they all had gotten a boost from the new art. Brian was pleased. He called Sam from his office.

“Sam, the painting’s up. Everybody approves.”

“Wow. You didn’t waste any time. Justin’s still not back.”

“He took the subway. No room in the van, apparently. He should be here soon, I would think.”

“Hard to believe he makes that ride every day.”

“His place is a little closer than Pratt. One less change.”

“I’ll check the lobby later. I got to go. We’re pretty busy.”

Brian hung up. He needed to get back to work as well. Only sixteen work days until he left for Pittsburgh, and a shitload to do.

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