Threes Company (21 page)

"That's a fucking cop-out," I spat out. My uncertainty had crept into anger, and my tone surprised both of them. "That Hartley's a homophobic prick!"

Adam and Simon stared at me, wide-eyed at my

outburst. It wasn't like me to be so angry, but it was happening again. A-fucking-gain. I was about to have another business ripped away from me because of close-minded, hateful assholes. I looked at Simon and told him,

"We have to do something!"

"Like what, Wil?" he cried. His tone matched mine.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

"Something!" I yelled back at him. "Something!

224

Three's

Company N.R.

Walker

Anything!"

Adam looked back and forth between us. He looked scared, and his voice was just a whisper. "Please don't fight."

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. "We're not fighting, Adam baby," I said softly. "We're just…" I wasn't sure what to call it.

"Yelling at each other," Adam filled in for me.

Simon walked over to Adam and wrapped one hand around his neck and pulled him in for a hard hug. "We're not fighting, baby. We didn't mean to yell."

I walked over to them and slid my hand along

Simon's jaw. "I'm sorry I yelled," I told him sincerely. "I was upset and angry, but not at you. It was misdirected and I'm sorry."

Simon softly kissed the heel of my hand.

"What will we do?" Adam asked quietly.

Simon pulled away from Adam, so he could look at him square on. "Babe, you know I love it here, and I don't want to leave either. But no matter what, no matter where we are"—Simon looked up at me as well—"no matter where we are, we'll all be together, okay?"

Adam nodded. "I know, it's just… well, it's our home."

I shook my head. "No."

225

Three's

Company N.R.

Walker

Both Adam and Simon stared at me. "What?"

"We stay. We fight this Hartley guy."

Simon looked at me as though I'd lost my mind.

"How?"

"I don't know," I told them honestly.

Simon smiled sadly and tightened his hold on

Adam.

"Please don't dismiss me," I said, frustrated and pleading. "I've had one business taken away from me by homophobic assholes. I won't let it happen again." They stared at me now, listening. So I told them, "We have to do something, because if we can't fight for this,"—I waved my hand at the apartment—"if we can't fight for this,"—I motioned my hand between the three of us—"then what have we got to fight for?"

They both stared at me, not blinking and not saying anything. I shook my head and sighed, the fight in me gone.

"I need to have a shower," I told them. "I smell like the kitchen."

I left them standing in the small living room. The smell of the food I'd just cooked lingered on me, and it wasn't uncommon for me to shower after working. But this time it wasn't to rid the smell of fish or grease. I wanted the heat of the water to unknot my shoulders and to wash away the feeling of unease that seemed to have settled on my

226

Three's

Company N.R.

Walker

skin.

I stood with my head under the streaming hot water, feeling the ache in my muscles slowly dissipate. I had no clue what the solution was, but I knew whatever we decided would be for the three of us. It wasn't ideal—it was perfect where we were—but we'd work it out together.

Feeling a little better, I got out of the shower, dried off, and, wearing only a towel, walked out to find Adam and Simon were getting ready for bed. I crawled up onto my side and when Adam got into his spot, I pulled him against me. "You're warm," he murmured. "And you smell good."

I chuckled at him then lifted my head. "Sy?"

His lip curled into a half-smile and he got into bed, quickly sliding in next to Adam, wrapping him up between us like we normally did. I reached out and traced my fingers through Adam's hair and told him, "Sy's right. We'll figure something out. Won't we?"

Simon sighed. "Yeah. We sure will."

But when we woke up the next morning, Simon's

side of the bed was empty.

Adam shot out of bed. "Sy?" I followed him. He checked the bathroom. "Sy?" Then he went to the living room. "Simon?" His voice was getting higher, more anxious as he looked around the empty apartment.

227

Three's

Company N.R.

Walker

"
Simon?
"

Adam threw the front door open and stepped out into the hall, where Simon stood fully dressed with his phone to his ear. He looked at Adam, then looked into the apartment at me, then looked back at Adam and grinned.

Adam was as naked as the day he was born. So was I, but I wasn't standing in the hall where any of the cleaning staff could see me. Adam was. Simon grabbed his hand and pulled him into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

He'd obviously been in his office, but had come when he'd heard Adam call for him. He was still midconversation with whomever was on the other end of the line, but he led Adam to the couch and sat him down.

He pecked his lips to Adam's then motioned me over to join Adam on the couch. He kissed my lips.

"Yes, I can bring those," he said into the phone. He had a light in his eyes, an air of excitement. "No, the three of us will be there in about an hour. Yes. Of course. Okay, see you soon."

He hung up, looked at a very naked me and Adam, and grinned. "I can't believe I'm going to say this," he started. "But you guys are gonna need to get dressed."

"Why?" Adam asked. "Sy, what are you doing?"

"Why? Because I'm sure my parents don't want to see you naked," he said with a smirk. "And
I'm
not doing

228

Three's

Company N.R.

Walker

anything.
We
are going to see my parents. I think I've found a way to beat Hartley."

* * * *

Parents.

I was going to meet Simon's parents.

Fuck.

Adam had met them before, of course, and they

both told me I had nothing to worry about. But that didn't stop me from panicking. I'd never "met parents" before.

Not the parents of someone I was dating. I'd never been introduced as someone's boyfriend before.

"They know we're together," Simon told us in the car on the way over there. He was driving, Adam was shotgun, and I was in the back.

Ugh. I put my hand to my stomach, pushing down the sudden lump of unease in my gut.

Simon looked in the rearview mirror at me. "I told them all about you," he said, like he'd discussed the weather with them.

"Jesus." I exhaled loudly. "What did they say?"

Sy laughed. "Well, Mom was pissed off at first. I got the whole spiel about how wonderful Adam was and how I shouldn't have let him go, she thought we were in

229

Three's

Company N.R.

Walker

love, and Adam was the sweetest boy she'd met, blah, blah, blah."

Adam's mouth fell open. "Did she think we'd broken up?"

Simon chuckled and nodded. "And she ripped into me for it, too." He shook his head. "So after I'd explained that no, we were still together, but we'd met Wil and now we were just three instead of two…" He looked at me again in the mirror and smiled.

"Anyway," he went on to say, "she was shocked, yes. But after I'd told her all about you she was fine. She is looking forward to meeting you."

Oh.
"And your dad?"

Simon shrugged. "Well, I mostly talked to him about work, but no doubt Mom told him."

And before I could say anything else, Simon pulled the car into a driveway. It was a very expensive-looking driveway that fronted a very expensive-looking house. I hadn't been paying much attention to where we'd been going. I'd been trying to get my head around meeting Simon's parents, but looking around at the surrounding houses, I could see we were in a neighborhood that spoke of money.

The houses were huge and the lawns manicured.

Simon pulled the car up to the front door, grabbed his

230

Three's

Company N.R.

Walker

satchel, and got out. Adam was right behind him, and I reluctantly followed.

"You'll be fine," Simon told me as he opened the door. "They'll love you."

He just walked in. Adam took my hand and led me inside. The foyer itself was almost as big as our living room, with marble floors and a marble staircase and grand mirrors on the walls. It looked like a museum. Sy just walked in and threw his satchel on a sofa like he would at our place.

"Hey, Mom?" Simon called out as he walked on through to a fancy living room that joined an open kitchen.

Holy shit… the kitchen. I never knew what a 'dream kitchen' looked like until I walked into it.

Then a woman walked out of what appeared to be a walk-in fridge with her arms full of produce. She was slim, wearing all white, with short, spiky gray hair and funky purple bifocal glasses. She looked oddly like Simon, and she grinned when she saw him. He quickly grabbed the eggs and a bag of mushrooms off the top of her armful of food and kissed her cheek. As she put the rest of the grocery items on the marble countertop, Simon turned to face us. He smiled when he saw Adam and I were holding hands.

"Good morning, Mrs Stanford," Adam said with his

231

Three's

Company N.R.

Walker

usual grin.

"Good morning, Adam," she said with a warm smile. Then she looked at me, and I thought for a moment she could hear my heart hammering in my chest.

Simon smiled proudly. "Mom, this is Wil."

"Ma'am," I said with a nod, by way of greeting.

Mrs Stanford said, "Simon told me all about you."

Oh.

Adam slid his arm around my waist and gave me a squeeze, but Simon changed the subject. "Mom, what's with the all the food?" he asked, looking over the groceries on the counter.

"Well, you told me the three of you would be coming over," she explained. "I thought I'd cook you all a breakfast."

"Okay." Simon shrugged. "Where's Dad?"

"Upstairs," she answered. "He'll be down in a moment, I'd imagine." Mrs Stanford then looked at Simon.

"So, care to tell me what this ever-so-important meeting is about?"

Simon looked at me and Adam, then back at his

mother. "I asked Dad to buy our hotel."

232

Three's

Company N.R.

Walker

"You what?" Adam and I asked in unison.

Simon looked at us. "I asked Dad to buy the hotel,"

he said again. Then he looked to his mother. "It makes sense."

Mrs Stanford put a heavy wooden chopping board on the countertop and looked at Simon. "His business isn't in hotels, or even in the hospitality sector, Simon. Why would he be interested in buying your hotel?"

Simon shrugged. "Well, he's not interested." Simon picked up a raw mushroom and took a bite. "I asked him to meet with me so I can convince him."

His mother smiled. "How are your negotiation skills?"

"How are whose negotiation skills?" someone said in a deep voice behind us. When I turned to see who had spoken, there stood a man who had to be Simon's father.

He was tall, dressed in what looked like a golfing outfit, with dark, graying hair. Although they didn't look that similar—Simon was more like his mother—there was something about him that made the genetics of Simon make complete sense.

Mr Stanford walked into the kitchen and stood

233

Three's

Company N.R.

Walker

beside his wife. He stole a mushroom off the board and popped it in his mouth, just like Simon had done.

"Hey, Dad," Simon greeted him.

"Boys," his father answered.

"Hi, Mr Stanford," Adam said cheerfully.

Then Simon introduced me. "Wil, this is my dad, Richard Stanford."

"Wilson Curtis, sir." I introduced myself and offered him my hand, which he shook.

"Ah, yes," he said with nod. "Sylvia told me about"—he looked at the three of us—"this new arrangement."

Simon's mother collected a bowl from a cupboard.

"All I told him was what Simon told me."

Oh, shit.
I hoped to God they weren't going to discuss what they thought of the type of relationship their son was in right there in front of us.

Simon stood with his back to the countertop and lifted himself so he was seated on it. It was obvious he was comfortable here, and in front of his parents. He was totally at ease, regardless of the fact he'd just introduced them to his two live-in boyfriends. "There's not much to tell, Mom,"

he said simply. "At first, there was Adam and me, and now there's Adam and me and Wil."

Mrs Stanford looked at the three of us. "And you're

234

Three's

Company N.R.

Walker

all happy with that?"

Simon rolled his eyes, and Adam nodded. And I

was on the verge of freaking out and needed something to do with my hands. I waved my hand toward the food on the counter. "Can I help you with anything here?"

Mr Stanford interrupted. "You boys should come around at this time more often if it means I get cooked breakfast," he said with a grin. Then he looked at his son.

"Come on, show me these reports you brought with you."

Simon looked at me and Adam. "You guys all right in here while I have a quick word with Dad?"

"Of course they are," his mother answered for us.

Then she looked at me and answered my earlier question.

"Of course you can help. Oh, you're a chef, yes? I'm sure that's what Simon told me."

"Yes, ma'am."

She pushed the chopping board toward me and

smiled. "Then be my guest."

Simon smiled at us and followed his father, leaving me and Adam with his mom.