Scott’s Secret - 4

December 5, 2007 · Filed Under Scotts Secret

Table of contents for Scotts Secret

Chapter 04

Scott could see the clock over the doorway, and he realized that it was past six already and the meeting was close to breaking up. He had been able, barely, to concentrate enough to present his submission and answer the myriad of questions that the men across from him posed. He answered without passion and seemed distant. At one point, one of the senior negotiators had asked him if he was feeling alright. He said he was tired, but what he really meant was that he was feeling lost. It had been only a few hours since he dropped Randy off in front of the CNN building where he was having his meeting, and the pain only seemed to get worse as the clock edged onwards.

As the clock struck 7 pm the meeting broke up. He had an agreement in principle, that would keep him employed for another day or two. His cousin John would not be happy, which made Scott smile. He loved to get the upper hand on that skinny arrogant prick. Well with this deal, he would have the upper hand just in time for the stock holder’s meeting next week in Florida.

Scott smiled a thin smile as he shook hands with everyone, and begged off the invitations to join them for a dinner and drinks. While he was pleased with his success he felt empty, as if the whole process was nothing but a charade. As he walked out along the long wide concourse of the CNN building, he wished that he had handled things better with Randy.

They had parked at the entrance to the main parking garage for CNN, and instead of making plans for later he had wished Randy well, like some distant relative was going off instead of the only person to have reached inside his mask and seen the real Scott.

Even the money had been a mistake, Randy had turned cold when he had counted the bills. That was something, a hustler upset cause you over paid him. Shit, he wasn’t doing anything right, and he tried to make amends, but the damage had been done.

He didn’t understand it, like it wasn’t as if they met at a bar and decided to go home together. He had been a pick up, there wasn’t any doubt that Randy was a working boy, and well so what if he gave him a few hundred dollars? That shouldn’t have pissed him off, but then again, he did kind of overdo the whole thing. Sure the kid was great in bed, and there was no doubt that there was some connection happening between them both, but let’s face it, Randy was a hustler, so that meant you paid him money… well at least that was what he thought.

The way Randy looked, when he had tried to explain that point. It was like he was digging a long butcher knife in Randy, the way his face seemed to age with each halting word of explanation that Scott uttered. He shivered as he walked along the wide concourse, feeling like he had just lost his best friend.

Why couldn’t Randy understand? It wasn’t like he meant to hurt him, far from that, hell he was hoping to take him out for dinner again but the money blew that idea. Shit, when would he learn? Scott shrugged his shoulder’s as he entered out into the warm Atlanta night air. Looking both ways, he saw the constant steady stream of people walking by the impressive buildings. Well the new South certainly was teaching him a thing or two.

Slowly he headed towards the main parking garage, his heart heavy as he contemplated his life. Here he was, a young executive who could cut a major deal with CNN for a small cable outfit, who could fool an entire family of piranha’s about his dreams, confound the local matrons of his town, keep the local beauties dazzled by his charm, and yet constantly screw up his own happiness or desires.

Maybe he should just walk away from it all? Who needed to be popping a bottle of tums every other day? Who needed to sit in a large roomy house all alone day in, day out? He didn’t need the fancy executive car, the fancy office that was bigger than some people’s apartment, what he needed had slammed his car door in anger only hours earlier.

It was too bad, he would have liked to have gotten to know Randy more. He seemed nice, and well, for some reason he seemed like someone Scott could enjoy having around. Hell, at one point in the night he had thought about taking him home. Now that would have been a hoot.

Imagine his Uncle Charles when he walked into the door, and introduced some rag a muffin as his new roomie. It would be worth it to see the old bastard have a coronary over the idea that his nephew and heir apparent to the family business was not only a faggot but had a whore for a boyfriend. Scott smiled at that, and his step picked up as he imagined what it would be like back home.

One day, he swore it, one day he would let it all come out and shock the living shit out of those sanctimonious assholes that were his extended family. One day he would just walk into work wearing some floozie outfit, make up to the hilt, and tell his dear sweet old uncle Charles to stuff the family business and then tell his freaking cousin John to suck him. Man that would turn the poor town on end, it would keep the old bitty’s talking for enternity.

Funny how his thoughts of shocking his family always made him feel better. Well, tonight he wasn’t going to mope around. Okay, he screwed up and it would have been nice to be meeting Randy for dinner and fun afterwards, but he was in Atlanta and Randy wasn’t the only hot southern boy in town.

Scott had heard about this bar from one of his many encounter’s at the chat rooms on the GSN site. It seemed okay, but wasn’t all that full. He surveyed the room, picking out a table that would give him a good view of the entrance way and the room.

Settling himself down, he looked around. So far it seemed that for the most part, the people here were either with other’s or were definately here for the same purpose as him. Man he hadn’t seen so much grey haired and balding men since the last family reunion. Well he might as well get used to that, as the next reunion was only a week away in Florida.

The waiter was pleasent enough, and a constant stream of Vodka martini’s found its way to his table, specially after he made sure and tipped the lanky brunette well the first few times. As the evening was wearing on, the place was filling up but he was still able to keep his drinks coming on time. Funny, see you tip well and you get extra service, but he couldn’t make Randy comprehend that. The waiter certainly didn’t seem pissed at his generousity, so why should Randy have gotten so out of shape by it?

Fuck, here he was thinking about Randy again. He was here to find a good lay, not to moon over some lost chance or lost fling. Why did he always do this? He would find someone who had potential, then when for one reason or another it fizzled, he would spend agonizing days over it, making himself miserable in the process. Not tonight, no fucking way was he gonna do this again.

With that determination he set out to check out the room. He watched as across the room some fat old geezer was plying a cute young thing with drinks in an obvious attempt at seduction. Man how sick was that? The guy had to be at least 70, and he took up at least room for three normal sized people. Even from this distance he could see the sweat on the fat face.

Scott watched the scene unfold before him. The object of fat boy’s attention was a slight built curly headed young man. If he was 21 then Scott was the Queen of England. He couldn’t be more than 17 or 18, but he did seem to be able to handle himself. He would laugh, taunting the older man with his long hair, or flash his eyes at him, and all the time he kept his distance.

‘Fat Boy’ didn’t seem to manage any points, as the cutie kept him at bay. It was strange to watch the way the kid could manoveur ‘fat boy’. He hardly noticed the waiter bringin him drinks anymore, as he became engrossed in the scene across the room. Scott smiled to himself, like some secret voyeur, he continued to stare until finally it seemed like ‘fat boy’ had scored his point. Suddenly the two rose up and headed off to the entrance way, together. Well looks like ‘fat boy’ had the right amount for the cutie as they sauntered out, and it was obvious by the expression on ‘fat boy’s’ face that he was enjoying it.

As they headed out of the entrance, Scott almost choked on his drink. Walking in was a tall man, perfectly trimmed hair, close cropped at the sides and top, like a military cut. His shorts had a crease in the front and his shirt looked like it was welded to his body. You could see the hard muscles of his chest.

What made Scott choke, was the stunning hot boy next to him. A pale blue shirt, opened at the neck hung loosely over the tall angular frame. Long hair nicely trimmed flowed out and down his shoulders. He was wearing a pair of new blue jeans, clearly showing a nice package inside. The eyes seemed to constantly be checking every inch of the room and there was no doubt that this was a real looker.

Scott watched as the hot boy followed the tall older man to the bar, and he stood beside the man, as they waited for their drinks. The boy seemed nervous as he kept constantly twisting his head around to check out the bar. His eyes never really looked at anyone, they seemed more bent on checking out the floor. Scott’s heart gave a small jerk as he saw the nervousness in the boy. Now why would someone that hot be so damn nervous he thought?

Scott continued to watch the two newcomer’s. For a brief instant he thought back to Randy, comparing the two and he decided that if Randy ever got clean new clothes, and had his hair trimmed and styled, he would be equal to this cutie. They had a similiar build and the long hair definately helped set off their thin faces, and made them seem very boyish in looks. He wished he could find Randy, take him to get his hair cut, take him shopping. Maybe he should have done that instead of pressing the money on him. If he had, maybe tonight someone would be staring at him and Randy instead of it being him doing the looking.

The hot boy didn’t seem to be having much fun. The tall soldier like man kept forcing him to drink, or so it seemed and the kid just didn’t want to. Why couldn’t that guy see that? Now, if he was with that kid, he certainly wouldn’t be forcing him to do anything, no way. He would be enjoying just sitting and talking with him, but this guy sure didn’t seem to have any manners.

The evening was wearing on and every now and then Scott could hear the military man’s voice through the din of the crowd. He was getting plastered, that was obvious, as the waiter seemed to always be there bringing more drinks and taking away empty’s.

The evening was wearing down, and the crowd had mostly thinned out now. His waiter was being more attentive and he thought maybe, if he played it right, that he might have a chance at a date for when the bar closed, at least he was hoping to try. Donny was his name, and he was kind of nice. He wasn’t tall but he certainly was built nicely. His arms were muscular and he had nice legs, solid ones that fit his body perfectly. Scott could see that he sported a very nice package in the tight jeans, and it aroused him too.

The clock was slowly getting towards last call and he was talking with Donny when they heard the argument break out. They turned to see the tall soldier like man rise from his chair, pushing it back and with a shocked look they saw him raise his hand and strike the hot boy. The loud WHACK of his hand crossing the boy’s face echoed throughout the lounge and everyone stopped dead in their tracks.

The boy had his face lowered, you could see the red mark from the slap though, and Scott was angered at the site. He leaned forward and watched as the man started to scream at the top of his voice.

‘YOU MOTHER FUCKING WHORE!”
“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

“YOU AREN”T WORTH THE PRICE OF THE DRINKS I PAID FOR YOU LITTLE SLUT”

Scott couldn’t take anymore and before even he realized it, he was on his feet heading towards the enraged man. His motion made the hot boy look up and Scott could see the tears in his eyes and then he stopped dead in his tracks. The hot boy was Randy.

The shock almost made Scott faint. His knees wobbled a bit and he steadied himself. By this time the bounce was at the table, talking to the angry man. Randy just stared at Scott, his eyes showing his pain and his shame all at once.

Scott didn’t realize he had walked up to the table, until the bouncer turned to him, telling him that he had everything under control. Scott ignored the bouncer as he looked down towards Randy.

“Randy…”

“Please Scott… ”

“Randy, come on look at me.”

“No…. please Scott… don’t get involved in this… it’s not your …. problem..”

“HEY BUDDY… LEAVE MY DATE ALONE!”

The soldier was getting annoyed and Scott turned to face the giant. There was no way he could take this guy, drunk or not the guy was just way too big and too damn well built for him.

“Hey… I know him, okay? And…”

“SO FUCKING BIG DEAL…. YOU KNOW THE WHORE. I DON”T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU DO BUB…. TAKE OFF !”

Scott stood there. His anger was boiling up inside him and it suddenly hit him why Randy had been so hurt earlier when he had dropped him off. It all came to him as he saw the tall man reach back with his arm and it didn’t click that he was about to be hit.

The pain of the fist hitting the side of his face stunned him. He stood there, swaying on his feet, feeling them weaken, feeling them collapse under him, and he saw the tall soldier like stranger grew taller, as he slowly fell down towards the floor.

He felt a strange sensation in his backside as he fell. The room was getting darker, as if they were turning off the lights, and the voices were now muffled so that he couldn’t understand a single word. It was like everyone was babbling away in some strange tongue. All he could think of was that Randy was there.

He tried to look for him, he needed to talk to him, to tell him he understood at last, that he was sorry and he wanted a second chance to make it right. He struggled to regain his feet, but his mind wouldn’t listen to him, it wouldn’t instruct his legs to move. With one desperate struggle he called out, calling Randy as darkness closed over his eyes.

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Tags: business conflicts, emotional conflicts, lifestyles, Scott's Secret