213 North Halifax Avenue
Daytona Beach, FL 32118
Wednesday, March 18, 2020
4:48 p.m. EDT
I looked over at Billy. He was sitting on the chesterfield in my office. His arms were crossed, and he was frowning.
"Where's Whit?" I asked.
Billy looked at the ceiling. "Working." His eyes narrowed a little. "What have you been doing?"
I tried to keep my voice light. "Helping find a killer. You?"
"Protecting your sorry ass."
I sat back in my chair as my anger flared. "Is that how this is gonna go?"
"How what is gonna go?"
"You're gonna sit there and chew me out?"
He relaxed a little. Not much, but a little. "You had a safe word and you didn't use it."
I was confused. "What are you talking about?"
"Whit didn't tell me what it is, but he said y'all have a safe word and you didn't use it."
I thought for a moment and then nodded. "You're right."
"And so, all day, today, he's been miserable while you run around playing cops and robbers with Lieutenant Blue Eyes."
I would have laughed, but my anger was surging.
Before I could say anything, he plowed on. "So Dwayne and I have been here, all day, taking care of Whit because, in what should be the best day of his life—"
"What?"
"—you're out roaming the streets pretending you know anything at all about what it takes to catch a killer."
I leaned forward. "Hold on."
He tilted his head at me, his eyes flashing. "What?"
"First of all... What's this about the best day of Whit's life?"
"If you'd been here, you would know."
"Well, I wasn't, Billy, as you so graciously pointed out..." My voice was getting loud, so I took a breath. "So, if you can do so without being an ass, tell me what you're talking about."
"What I'm talking about is that Whit was able to get Roddy Yarborough. You know? Only the best running back ever to play for the Browns."
I tried not to laugh. "The Browns?"
"Yeah. So?"
"The Browns? I don't know much about football, but I know that—" I stopped and put my hand over my eyes. "Look, Billy." I took a deep breath. "I'm glad you told me about Yancy—"
"Yarborough."
I dropped my hands. "Yarborough. Sorry." I pressed my lips together. "But, if you're gonna sit there and tell me that's the best thing that's ever happened to or for Whit, then you can go find yourself another fucking job."
Billy leaned forward to say something and then suddenly fell back against the chesterfield. He looked up at the ceiling. "You're right, Eddie. That was a shitty thing for me to say."
"It's OK. I know you love Whit and you only want what's best for him."
Billy nodded, still looking at the ceiling. He crossed his legs and then said, "I also think what you did today was shitty. Whit doesn't deserve to be treated that way."
I nodded and nodded and nodded, again, to keep from screaming at him. Once I had myself under control, I calmly said, "You know, Billy, before you came back into his life, I was the only person he trusted, and he was plenty shitty to me."
He looked at me. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that there were plenty of times last year when he would panic, freeze me out, and walk around like a big, sullen baby."
The trace of a smile formed on Billy's lips. "Oh, yeah. I know that one."
I felt all my anger drain away right then. "He hasn't done that in a while and I think having you and Dwayne around is part of the reason for it. He's got friends who love him. And who are taking care of him."
Billy looked at me for a long moment. "And we love you, too, Eddie. You know that, right?"
I smiled a little. "I do."
Right then, Whit stomped on the floor above us a couple of times and made a whooping sound.
"I guess something else good just happened," said Billy.
I stood. "Let's go find out what it is."
He slowly got to his feet. "Look, Eddie, I'm sorry for coming down so hard on you."
"And I'm sorry for leaving you two in the lurch like this."
He shook his head. "No, no. Please ignore what I said about that. Whit's not a baby. We were just doing our jobs. And you were doing what you do, even if I don't really understand it." He looked at me for a moment. "Uh..." He made a pained face.
"Out with it."
"You don't have a crush on Lieutenant Blue Eyes, do you?"
I laughed. "Uh, no. I'm in love with Whit. And I don't care what Nick said about Carter..." I felt a chill run down the left side of my neck right then which was Nick's way of letting me know he heard me. "Whit's the most handsome man on seven continents."
"Even with that broken nose?"
I wiggled my eyebrows. "That's the hottest..." I paused. "The second hottest thing about him."
Holding up his hand like a cop stopping traffic, Billy said, "I don't want to know what the first thing is."
"You don't?" I asked as sweetly and as innocently as I could.
He shuddered a little. "Don't make me file a harassment complaint with HR."
I laughed. "His thighs."
Billy giggled. "Seriously?"
I nodded. "Oh, yes. Those thighs..." I cleared my throat. "Of course there's also what's right above them."
Billy put his hands over his ears. "La, la, la! I can't hear you!"
I walked into Whit's office with Billy behind me. Dwayne was sitting on the sofa while Whit was talking excitedly to his screen.
Dwayne jumped up and looked at Billy. Since he was behind me, I couldn't see his expression but, apparently, Dwayne got the signal he wanted. He put both hands on either side of my face. Looking at me with his intense black eyes, he hissed, "Safe word." He shook my head a little. "Use it."
I nodded. "Yes, sir."
He grinned and then kissed me right on the lips. "Good boy." Letting me go, he said, "I'm gonna go get the champagne." Motioning to Billy, he said, "Come on, piggy."
As soon as they were gone, I heard Whit say, "Hey! Eddie's here."
Over the speaker, several voices said, "Eddie!"
I turned around and walked over to Whit. He put his arm around my waist. "Say hello to everyone."
I leaned over so they could see me. "Hey, y'all!"
Everyone on the screen waved back with big grins on their faces.
I looked down at Whit. "I heard about Yarborough."
McCabe, giddy with glee, said, "That's old news, son."
Whit nodded. "Looks like we're signing on Gilbert Flowers, a wide receiver from the Giants."
"That's good, right?" I asked as I kissed him on the forehead.
"That's fantastic!" said Whit who then proceeded to tell me why based on something about averages and something else about runs earned or yards run or skirts knitted. I didn't have a fucking clue. None of it made any sense. It all went right over my head.
I just grinned stupidly at him while he went on and on as I realized how very, very much in love I was with the man.
After dinner, we went up to the TV room and sat down to watch South Pacific, something we'd done before but not, of course, since we'd become owners of a movie studio.
As Mitzi Gaynor was beginning to tell the girls about the new guy in her life, Whit squeezed my shoulder. "Do you think we could produce a re-make of this movie?"
I nodded and cavalierly replied, "We can produce any movie you want."
He picked up the remote and pressed pause. Letting go of me, he stood, put his hands on his hips, and looked down at me. "I'm serious."
I grinned up at him. "I can see that."
"Did you ever see Gus Van Sant's frame-by-frame remake of Psycho?"
"I saw the first thirty minutes of it. You know I don't like that movie. Either one."
He rolled his eyes a little and crossed his arms.
I patted the spot where he'd been sitting. "Come down to my level, cowboy. My neck is gonna get sore."
He laughed and plopped down. After putting his arm around my shoulder, he said, "What if we did a frame-by-frame remake of South Pacific?"
"You know that the second Psycho bombed, right?"
He shrugged. "Maybe we could hire Van Sant to do this one and then give him free rein to do it how he wants to do it."
"So he can get more Golden Raspberries?"
Whit laughed. "Won't be the first time a Monumental picture got one."
I nodded. "Or the third or the fifth..." I thought for a moment. "I would like to see the movie made with Bloody Mary being played by an actual actor from that part of the world."
"Do you think the estate would let us do it?"
I grinned at him. "Which estate?"
He shrugged. "Whoever owns the original story."
"That was James Michener." I thought for a moment. "And that was from a collection of short stories. Tales of the South Pacific."
"Did you ever read that?"
"Some of it. The funny thing is that I've read almost everything else he wrote. Mother loved his books. Particularly his last one about Texas."
Whit nodded. "My mom loved that book, too." Before I could say anything about that or about her, he glanced at the paused screen and said, "But I want to see the movie musical remade without these awful color filters."
I nodded. "Me too. There was a made-for-TV version or, maybe, live-on-TV version about 20 years ago with Glenn Close as Nellie Forbush."
He rolled his eyes. "TV."
I laughed. "You sound like Nick."
"Who played the Frenchman?"
I shrugged. "I only remember Glenn Close." I had a sudden thought. "You know that the beach scenes were filmed at Princeville, right?"
"Yes."
"And that Carter used to own the property right above there."
"Yes. So?"
"So, according to what Nick wrote, when they developed Princeville and Carter sold his house, a lot changed. I'm not sure we could film there, but—"
Impatient, he interrupted me. "It doesn't have to be the same beach, Eddie. Besides, Bali Hai is a painting, right? I mean, you know, we could use CGI."
I laughed.
"What?"
"We may own a movie studio, but neither of us have a fucking clue about producing a movie."
"We can learn."
I turned and looked at him. "You're going to be in your own TV shows before too long, cowboy. You want to run the Matadors, act, and produce?"
He nodded. "And direct."
"Are you serious?
He kissed my nose. "Very serious."
"You interrupted something very important I was about to tell you."
He arched an eyebrow at me. "Oh?"
"I remember reading that Princeville was sold not too long ago. There was something about that..."
Both eyebrows went up. "Oh?"
I pulled out my phone and began to do a search. After a couple of minutes, I looked up, feeling excited. "Starwood bought it a couple of years ago for 250 million and invested a hundred million to re-brand it under the St. Regis name."
His eyes widened at that. "So... Marriott owns it now?"
"Yup," I replied, looking at him closely. "Should I tell Billy to start making some inquiries?"
He stared at me for a moment and then sat back a little. "You don't tell me how to manage the Matadors and I don't tell you how to manage Hopkins. That was our agreement."
I grinned a little. "I know, but..."
He frowned a little. "What?"
"What does Carter think about us getting that property back?"
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Whatever it was that happened between the two of them hit me like a ton of bricks so, even before he opened his eyes, I said, "I take it that was something like a 'Hell, yes!'"
Leaning over, he stuck his tongue in my mouth and used that as a way to confirm I was right. I had a feeling that Carter was kissing Nick through us—Carter using Whit to get to Nick through me. If that was the case—and I wasn't sure that it was—I really didn't care one fucking bit.
To Nick, I said, "Too bad for you, Mr. Private Dick, Whit is the most handsome man on seven continents."
In reply, I heard, "The most handsome man alive, kid. Now, shut the fuck up and get back to work."
As Whit began to unbutton his shirt, I said to Nick, "Yes, sir."
I looked down at his slacks. We were still on the sofa and the movie was still paused. "I just realized you're still wearing the same pants you put on this morning to impress Lieutenant Blue Eyes."
"Blue Eyes?"
"That was what Billy called him." I looked at Whit's amazingly beautiful violet eyes, which weren't actually violet. They were a mix of brown and blue. They only looked violet. "I'm sorry about what happened earlier with the tie and everything."
He rubbed my arm and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Eddie. I wanted to surprise and give you a little mid-morning delight."
I smiled at that and wanted to mention something about the after-dinner delight we were in the middle of, but realized I needed to own my shit. "I should have used our safe word."
He nodded.
"I'm sorry I got so angry."
He tilted his head. "You've put up with a lot of my shit since we've known each other." I wondered if Billy could have told him what I'd said but then I remembered Billy and Dwayne had left not long after the champagne popping had happened. Whit continued, "And I know you're claustrophobic."
I took his big hand in mine. "You know what?"
"What?"
"I'm glad we had a nice dinner together and you tried to teach me about the art of NFL contracts."
He grinned. "It didn't take, did it?"
I sighed and looked at the back of his hand. "Nope. I'm just not interested."
"I get it. You haven't lived and breathed the NFL since you were a kid like I have."
"But I'm glad you're the gayest, youngest, footballiest owner in the history of the league."
He laughed at that.
"And I'm proud to know you and I love watching you get excited about the Matadors."
"Thank you, Eddie." He kissed the back of my hand. "And I'm glad you're with me as I get to have all this fun."
"It is fun, isn't it?"
He nodded. Looking over my head, he said, "There've been times in the last few days when it wasn't. But, this afternoon, when you walked into the office, I knew I finally had what I'd been praying to God for all these years."
I wanted to ask him what that was, but some things were best left unasked and unsaid. So, instead, I asked, "How about a walk on the beach in the dark so I can tell you what happened with Lieutenant Blue Eyes? We can follow that up back here by finishing up what we just started."
His only answer was to kiss me on the nose.
I picked up my phone and texted Billy:
Can you see if Marriott is willing to sell Princeville Resort on Kauai? Maybe called St Regis now. Also set up a meeting for me with whoever is doing development in Culver City. Is that what it's called? We wanna produce a remake of South Pacific. Also--- We're going to the beach off the University ramp for a quiet talk.
Whit was changing into shorts and a t-shirt, something I had done while he checked on things in his office. I watched as he carefully hung up the trousers that had cost somewhere around five grand and put them in the closet.
After about half a minute, Billy texted back:
Will check on both tomorrow. As for beach, Dwayne wants to do the same, so we'll follow you but give you plenty of space.
I replied:
Thanks. Love you guys a whole lot.
He replied with a couple of hearts.