Visible Lives Read online

  “Uhm, no. I don’t think so,” I said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I am pretty sure.”

  “You look awfully familiar.”

  “I see,” I said as the attendant handed me my smoothie.

  “You sure we never met?” he asked.

  “I’m pretty sure. I think I would remember if I had met you before.”

  “Are you a new member?”

  “No, I am not.”

  “Hmph. So, how long have you been coming here?”

  “I really must be going.” I turned and walked toward the locker room.

  “Wait, I didn’t get your name.”

  “Chase Kennedy.”

  “I’m Dr. Trent Campbell.” He extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too, Doctor.” I gripped his sweaty hand.

  He laughed. “You can call me Trent.”

  Trent and I talked in the sauna for another twenty minutes before we exchanged numbers. It would take another month before we actually went out on a date. His schedule at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital was very demanding. As head of neurology Trent rarely had time for a social life. When he did it was because his brothers, and parents, were being honored or asked to speak at an event.

  After three months we began dating seriously. In the beginning I didn’t mind Trent’s busy schedule because I was on the go as well. I had several television productions happening and was traveling extensively.

  After a year I wanted something more stable.

  Something serious.

  I grew tired of our routine.

  The cancellation of plans.

  Trips.

  Broadway shows.

  Lunches.

  Dinners.

  We even had to schedule our sporadic sex.

  Trent reluctantly moved in.

  I reluctantly let him.

  Nothing changed.

  Except we lived together.

  We still rarely saw one another.

  Trent wasn’t comfortable living with a man, nor had he ever committed to one. I was his first.

  After our second year of living together I came home one day to find Trent gone.

  Along with his clothes.

  Nothing but a note on the dining room table.

  Dear Chase,

  You are my first love. I never thought I would meet and fall in love with someone as special as you. You’ve given me more than I ever gave to you. I don’t feel I am able to do this right now. I need some time alone. I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now, but I just didn’t know how to say it. I’m headed to Namibia with Doctors Without Borders. I’ll call you soon.

  Love always,

  Trent

  The world was snatched from under me.

  I couldn’t move.

  My heart fell into the pit of my stomach.

  I felt dizzy.

  Nauseous.

  The man I loved. Who I allowed into my world. Who told me I was his first. The only man he loved and could love.

  He left for motherfucking Africa!

  For an entire week I stayed in bed.

  I cried a year’s worth of pain. A year’s worth of hurt.

  Ashley helped me regain my life. I don’t think I would have made it without her.

  I didn’t hear from Trent until a year later.

  I had moved on.

  Forgiven him.

  But never forgot.

  Now he calls about every six months.

  And this was that sixth month.

  “Did I get you a bad time?” Trent asks.

  I do a fake yawn. “Just sleeping.”

  “Dreaming about me?”

  I smirk.

  “I miss you,” he says.

  “How is Namibia?” I ask.

  “It’s a little depressing, seeing so many young women coming through the clinic. It makes me think about the young girls at home in Harlem, Brooklyn, and the Bronx who can’t afford medical care.”

  “Well, they have one of our best doctors there,” I say. “So I am sure that they are getting the best attention.”

  “Thanks, Chase, but I am only one of many doctors here.”

  There is a brief silence.

  “How’s work?” he asks.

  “Everything is going well,” I say. “I got the GBS Reality Television Awards happening in a few months, so we are busy with figuring out the nominees, presenters, and host of the show.”

  “Sounds exciting.”

  “It is.”

  “I’ll be home soon.”

  My heart starts to race.

  My breathing is faster.

  It’s been over three years since I last saw Trent.

  There was no closure.

  No ending.

  No face-to-face.

  “I would love to see you when I return,” Trent says.

  “Be careful out there,” I say. I’m not sure if I want to see him.

  “Well, listen, I just wanted to hear your voice,” Trent says. I hear the dejection in his.

  “All right, talk with you later,” I say, and push the OFF button while he is saying something.

  I roll over on the bed and stare at the ceiling.

  Am I ready to see Trent?

  Has my heart really healed?

  I let out a deep sigh and shake my head. I remember the nights of Trent lying next to me. The intimate moments we shared.

  Curled on the sofa those rainy and snowy nights.

  Reading the Sunday paper to each other.

  Sharing our dreams of life together.

  Our worlds orbiting, never becoming one, yet somehow in sync.

  Now, we are in two different atmospheres.

  Two different time zones.

  I toss my Apple iPhone across the bed. I reach into the drawer of the nightstand and grab the bottle of Wet Platinum Lube.

  I pour a handful.

  Close my eyes.

  And, I finish what Quincy had already started, before my food arrives.

  Chapter Eleven

  I barely make it in the office and my phone is ringing off the hook. Before I can put the phone to my ear I hear Ashley’s voice squealing about Quincy. “Boy, he is fine! You better get him before someone else at GBS gets hold of him. Oh my gosh, the things I would do to him. How much longer is he working for you?”

  “Three months.” I hate the thought of it. I even hate saying it.

  “And you’re not at least going to try to get him in the bed?”

  “That is not my mission. I told you my policy on this.”

  “But, Chase, you can’t let him get away. I’m telling you he will go there with you if you stop being such a prude. I saw it in his eyes.”

  I pull the phone away from my ear. I don’t want to hear any more.

  Yes, he is fine.

  Yes, I want him, but I can’t cross that line.

  It will be utterly unprofessional.

  “Ashley, I’ll call you back later.”

  I lean back in my leather chair and look out onto Times Square. Droves of people are rushing through the streets. Cars, taxis, and trucks weave through the concrete maze. I sip my Starbucks caramel latte.

  I start biting my bottom lip.

  Just as life seems to be leveling for me I get the curve ball.

  Correction.

  I get the slider, the knuckleball.

  First, Quincy, in all his beautiful-glorious-milk-chocolate-studness shows up to torture me for the summer.

  Then, Trent calls and says he’s coming home soon and wants to see me.

  I take a big gulp of my latte and decide I’ll handle Trent when he gets home. And for the next three months of Quincy’s internship I will stay away from him.

  I will have very little contact with Quincy.

  I will have my assistant Alicia deal directly with him. She is his supervisor and it is her job to keep him busy.

  It’s time to put into effect the covert operation:
AVOID QUINCY AT ALL COSTS!

  Evade.

  Remain busy.

  Preoccupied.

  Focused.

  But that damn Quincy is persistent.

  Over the next three weeks he has managed to consistently set up five-, ten-, and fifteen-minute meetings to update me on his learning experience. Each time he sits across from me I notice a gleam in his eyes.

  Maybe Ashley is right.

  Or, I am seeing what I want to see.

  On one occasion while we were talking outside of my office he delicately placed his large hand on the middle of my back. I almost jumped out of my skin.

  I also catch him out the corner of my eye staring at me when I walk by his desk. He sits in a small cubicle a few doors outside my office. His long muscular dark body sits erect in front of the computer and I notice his eyes following me.

  I find myself wanting to abort my mission and throw caution, danger, and trouble to the wind.

  But I won’t.

  I can’t.

  I refuse.

  In a few months he will be gone.

  Out of my life.

  No temptations.

  No distractions.

  Lord, give me the strength.

  Chapter Twelve

  The company receives a major announcement from Richard Goldstein, the President of GBS Television. Rap artist Jay-Z is performing at Radio City Music Hall. Our network has received complimentary VIP tickets to attend the show. Richard gives my department several tickets. I immediately decide not to attend. I don’t have anyone to go with. Ashley has her performances with The Lion King and she can’t afford to miss a show.

  I give my assistant two tickets and since Quincy has been doing a great job thus far, I give him two tickets.

  On the day of the concert everyone in the office is gleaming. They are all talking about the show. It is all over the radio. The newspapers cover the event like it is the biggest thing to hit New York City. It is a huge deal in the music industry.

  Quincy taps on my door. His tall muscular frame is standing in my doorway. His bald head is only a few inches from the top of it.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but I want to ask you something.” His deep voice reverberates.

  “Sure. Come on in.” I lean back in my leather chair.

  “I want to thank you for the tickets. I really do appreciate it,” he says as I watch his long body slide into the chair in front of my desk. “I have a little problem.”

  “Okay, what is it?” I ask, a little perplexed.

  “I have two tickets, but unfortunately I don’t have anyone to go with me. None of my friends are able to go or they already have tickets.”

  “I see.”

  “I know you are not going, but I was thinking maybe we could go together. It would at least allow me the opportunity to have a full uninterrupted one-on-one conversation with you. And I haven’t had any extensive amount of time to really get to know my boss.”

  I am taken aback by his request.

  I can’t believe he has the audacity—the balls—to ask me out.

  It is a bold and daring move on his part.

  I am turned on by it.

  He is making moves many men in my age range dare not even consider. Most of them are too intimidated by my success or they are hangers-on. They want the free perks that come with dating me and my job.

  The free concerts.

  The free movie tickets.

  The grand openings.

  Ugh!

  Quincy doesn’t seem to be threatened or bothered by it.

  “Can I think about it and get back to you later, Quincy?”

  “Sure. No problem. I know you are extremely busy.”

  I don’t have anything on my calendar for the evening. I cleared it because I knew everyone will be at the concert. It will allow me the opportunity to leave work early and catch up on some other things, like a much-needed spa treatment.

  Throughout the day I am torn about what to do. I will be attending the concert with Quincy—an intern who is a sexy and fine young man.

  In public.

  Where everyone will see us together.

  Most of the employees know I am gay. It’s not a secret, but I don’t mix my personal life with my professional life. And I know everyone at GBS will be whispering if they see me with Quincy. As much as GBS is a great place to work, there is still the element of gossipmongers lingering throughout the company.

  I also need to think about what to wear. I did not plan on attending the concert so the John Varvatos suit and Murray zip boots I wore to work are not appropriate for a Hip Hop concert.

  It is nearing three o’clock. The concert is at eight. I still have time to run out and grab something quick from Bloomingdale’s.

  What the hell. It will be fun. I mean, this is innocent. It isn’t a date. Besides, I could get to know Quincy more. I could find out his aspirations and how far he wants to go in this business. I could be a mentor to him, I tell myself.

  I call Quincy back into my office. “Yes, I will go with you,” I tell him.

  “Oh man. This is great.” The smile on his face is priceless. He lights up the entire room with his dazzling smile. He is more excited than I. He bolts out of my office and I swear he throws his hands in the air like he just scored two points for his basketball team.

  I tell my assistant I am leaving the office for the rest of the day.

  I rush to Bloomingdale’s where I purchase a pair of True Religion jeans, a deep blue Prada shirt, and some gray suede Prada sneakers.

  I must admit I am going to look fly.

  I want to at least look age-appropriate, but not too much older than Quincy.

  I still have time to get home.

  Shower.

  Change.

  And mentally prepare.

  I call a car service to take me to the concert.

  When the car drops me off in front of Radio City it is ten minutes to eight.

  Perfect.

  Quincy is standing patiently like a dark knight in the urban jungle.

  He has changed clothes from his office attire of slacks and a button-down dress shirt. He has on an Ed Hardy T-shirt with a sky blue blazer, some Rock and Republic jeans, a pair of crisp white Nike Air sneakers, and a blue New York Yankees fitted baseball cap.

  He definitely looks like a sports star.

  I notice the many women walking by staring at him.

  Damn, he is handsome.

  He beams with enthusiasm when I get out of the car. He rushes over and greets me as I step onto the sidewalk.

  “Check you out!” Quincy grins.

  I brush my shoulders and do a b-boy stance.

  Quincy doubles over in laughter.

  “And, look at you, fly guy,” I say.

  Quincy steps back and does a little spin.

  “You know I got to have my swag game on.”

  I smile.

  “It’s going to be a crazy concert. You ready?” Quincy asks.

  “I’m a big Jay-Z fan. I’m definitely ready.”

  “You’re a Jay-Z fan? I would’ve never guessed it.”

  “Don’t sleep, Quincy. I may be a little older, but I’m a true Hip Hop fan.”

  “Let me find out my boss is a Hip Hop head,” he laughs.

  “H to the iz-o, V to iz-a,” I chant.

  Quincy throws his head back and lets out a loud bellowing laugh.

  He is so sexy.

  Already he is making me feel comfortable and at ease. Maybe because there is no pressure. It makes the evening that much more enticing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The concert was exhilarating. It was everything it was hyped up to be. I couldn’t believe I had that much fun. Everyone in the audience stood or danced the entire concert. It was definitely a party inside of Radio City.

  “Would you like to get some coffee or tea?” Quincy asks after the concert.

  “Sure, why not.” I glance at my watch. It’s a little after eleven and pas
t my bedtime. I figure it will be great to enjoy the nice summer evening. I am still in a festive mood and I don’t want the night to end.

  Everything is perfect.

  “We can go to The Pink Tea Cup,” I suggest. It’s a small quaint place and I know it will be open late.

  “That sounds great.” Quincy smiles.

  We hop in a cab and head to the West Village.

  We enter the restaurant and find ourselves to be the only two customers. I glance at my watch and look at the hours posted on the wall behind the register. “Y’all barely made it. We close in thirty minutes,” the plump waitress says.

  “We just want some coffee,” I say.

  “Oh, great, ’cause all we got left in the kitchen is some meat-loaf and mashed potatoes.” She hobbles from behind the counter, smiling, looking us up and down. “Y’all can take a seat anywhere.” She points to the empty chairs.

  After we are seated Quincy keeps bringing up the highlights of the concert’s performance. “Did you see when Foxy Brown came out?” He gleams. “That was bananas. And, what about Memphis Bleek and Beyoncé? Whoo-hoo! That was a great concert.”

  “Yes, it was.” I smile. “Jay-Z pulled off an amazing show. I had a great time.”

  “Thank you for coming with me. I almost didn’t think you would. I mean, you being my boss.”

  I smile and start biting my lip.

  “I have to tell you again, you look really good.” He beams.

  “Thank you.”

  “I would love to…”

  “So, is that two coffees?” The waitress interrupts Quincy. Her hand is on her hip and her hair is falling from its uneven bun.

  “One coffee and one tea,” he responds.

  Quincy glances back at me. I look into his sparkling brown eyes. I am afraid of what he was going to say.

  My heart is racing.

  I feel a little perspiration under my arms.

  I desperately want to hear it. Maybe it’s best not to let him say anything.

  “Listen, Quincy, you are doing a great job in the department. And…”

  “Thank you, but I need for you to listen to me,” he cuts me off. Quincy slides his chair close to me. Instantly my body becomes flustered. The heat rushes from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head in a nanosecond.

  Quincy leans his body forward. He cups my hand in his. I almost jerk it away. I’ve never been with a man who displayed public affection. I was caught off-guard.