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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Land Whore - 10. Chapter 10


May 1, 1973


If there were people out there who thought this Watergate scandal would just fade away, they were shocked out of their complacency yesterday. The President had been forced to ask for the resignation of his two most influential aides, H.R. Haldeman and John Ehrlichmann. On top of that, he had fired the White House Counsel, John Dean. It was a blood bath, and it should be obvious that this was going to be a bigger deal than anyone had believed in the beginning.

That wasn't all, though. The stock market had been diving all year, and the mood on Wall Street was dismal. All of this combined to create a very nervous economy. Inflation was increasing too, and that made fixed investments a bad place to be. The best place to be was in real estate, and luckily that's exactly where I was.

But the best news of all is that I was rich again, with liquid cash to re-invest. The housing development in Almaden had sold out in record time and the cash had flown in. I'd bonused the whole company for sticking with me, and now, recapitalized and re-energized, we were ready to move ahead, move on to new opportunities.

And that wasn't all. Our attorneys had managed to get our broker/dealer approved. Josh, Jason, and I had to take the Series 1 exam so we could sell the programs, but the three of us managed to breeze through it. We were projecting that our first deal would be filed by the end of the week, and I was off to LA this weekend to set up our offices and to buy my house in Malibu. It was a busy time, a very busy time, but busy in a good way. Busy in an exciting way.

Ever since I'd gotten back from LA, Roger and I had been inseparable. JP knew something was wrong with Peter and me, but he didn't ask and I didn't volunteer anything. Peter was his friend too, and he might be unhappy with the way I was manipulating Peter. Roger was still amazing in bed, and he still showed absolutely no signs of talking about his sexuality. That frustrated me, but I put it out of my mind and just enjoyed his company and the great sex.

Today I'd decided to head down to the vineyards and see how Roger was doing. Plus I was taking him a present: a brand new truck to replace the old one that barely seemed to run anymore. His last one was a Chevrolet, and I knew how brand-loyal people could be so that's what I bought to replace his old one. JP had referred me to some guy named Art Martin at the local Chevy dealer. The guy was a piece of work, a stereotypical car salesman. I'd have to think up something nasty to do to JP to pay him back, I thought with a grin.

The entrance to the winery had changed as all the land around it was being bulldozed and developed, but I found the dirt road and followed it up the hill to the winery. The road was a lot smoother than it used to be. Roger had done some work on that too.

I wandered around the place looking for him. I finally found him repairing a wooden vat. He was shirtless, dirty and sweaty, and oh-so-masculine. He looked up, saw me and gave me that dazzling smile of his. “Hey Stef, what brings you down here?”

“I wanted to see what you've been working on all these months, and I brought you a present.”

He walked up to me and kissed me. “What kind of present?” I put the keys in his hand. “What's this?”

I led him outside. “A new truck for my favorite guy,” I said.

“I can't take this. It's too much,” he said, trying to hand me the keys.

“Nonsense,” I said. It irritated me when people turned down gifts. “Things are good, money is finally not tight, and I want to do something nice for you. Do not insult me by refusing my gift,” I said, and looked at him pouting.

“Well, thank you very much,” he said, grinning and surrendering to the inevitable. He showed me around the winery, and cornered me in the vat that he'd been fixing. “So do hot, sweaty men turn you on?” he asked seductively.

“This one does,” I said, running my hands up his arms and lowering my mouth to his chest, licking his salty skin. When my tongue hit his nipple I noticed him quiver slightly and looking down I saw him tenting his jeans. In no time at all I had my clothes off and we were rolling around in the dirty vat, covered with crap and loving it. The grime seemed to stimulate him even more, and he just lost it and went nuts with his primal drive, fucking my brains out in damn near any position I could think of. It was dirty, nasty, smelly, gross, and absolutely amazing. Still, after I came and the fireworks stopped, I almost couldn't wait to take a shower and get cleaned up.

“So you going to LA this weekend?” he asked, trying to hide the disappointment.

“Yes, we are finally ready to launch, and I have a lot to do. I have to buy a house, set up an office, and get organized with Josh.”

“Josh, huh?” he asked.

“You jealous?” I taunted back.

“Kind of. Yeah.” And that just blew me away. I never expected him to admit to that, to being jealous.

I grabbed his hand as we walked among the vines. “You know how important you are to me,” I said. “I'd do almost anything for you, you know that right?” He smiled down at me and gave me a brief kiss.

“But you don't want to be with just me,” he said more somberly.

“Roger, I'm not the kind of person who can be monogamous. I can love just one person, but I cannot have sex with just one person. I enjoy sex, I enjoy having fun with other people, and I enjoy making other people happy. And sex is the one skill that I have that never fails to work.”

“I guess I hoped I'd be the guy that could change all that,” he responded.

“Maybe you will, but I'm not there yet. Shit, you have not even told me whether you're gay or not.” I saw him tense at that and his brows narrowed. I relented. “Look, I do not want to fight. I want to be with you and enjoy you, enjoy us.” He nodded. “When we're apart, we do what we do. You want to know about it, ask me, just do not get mad when I tell you the truth. But even when we're apart, I think about you all the time.”

That seemed to help. He put his arm around me and we wandered aimlessly around the vineyard in a quiet and thoughtful mood. I could invite him down to LA with me, but I think that would be a mistake. That life, which could easily become a free-for-all fuck fest, would only disgust him. Better to keep that part of my life separate. It occurred to me that I was becoming two separate people. In the Bay Area, I was pretty much with one guy, a family man to the degree that I could be, devoted to JP, Sam, Isidore, and the kids. In LA, I was a male whore, doing whatever I wanted to do to satisfy myself or whatever I needed to do to further my business interests.

The irony is that when I was here, I longed to be in LA. When I was in LA, I longed to be here. I wonder if I'll ever be able to find a place where I can be me and be content. Maybe, for me, that place doesn't exist. I guess I always thought I'd find a guy that was so amazing that he'd make me want to give everything and everyone else up for him, but whenever I thought I'd found that guy, it seemed to fall apart. JP, Jeff, and Peter, all guys that I loved, all guys I thought I'd be celibate for, all failed relationships. I just didn't want to go there with Roger.


May 5, 1973

Josh picked me up at the airport. It was early and he looked like shit, but I wasn't feeling much better. I'm not a morning person. In a sign of how things had changed, I didn't rush straight to meet Peter. Instead, we met with a realtor in Malibu. I spent the whole morning and part of the afternoon looking at houses, and finally found the one I wanted. Actually, it was one of the first houses I looked at; I just didn't want to fork out the cash for it. In the end though, I just had to have it.

It was in Malibu Colony, an area that was right on the beach. The house itself was brand new, and built on stilts, or whatever they called those things they used. It was perfect for entertaining, with a large central room with 30 foot glass windows overlooking the Pacific. A central courtyard had a pool and a staircase down below the house where there was a shower to wash off the sand, obviously designed for beach access. And best of all, there was a huge master bedroom on the top floor with its own deck and hot tub. There was a second bedroom upstairs that I'd modify to also access the deck, and that would give Josh the ability to enjoy the hot tub with any guests he may have.

I set up closing for Monday, and called Jason to work on financing. I'd close with cash if I had to, but I needed to keep as much capital free as possible. The investment environment was just too rich right now to tie up assets in any one project. Josh had lined up an office in Hollywood, and we drove by to check it out as well. We worked out a somewhat unique floor plan, with a subtle side door leading into a bedroom, just in case we needed to work late. Or at least that was our story. A good businessman seizes opportunities.

So it wasn't until almost 7pm that we got to Peter's house. He kind of grumbled at me and kissed me perfunctorily. I dragged him off to the bedroom while Josh got dinner ready.

“It's good to see you,” I said, kissing him more passionately. “Are you not glad to see me too?”

“No. When you're around I feel trapped. Actually, I feel that way even when you're not around.” He was sullen.

“Look, you were trying to jerk me around and you know it. I'm not willing to put up with that crap, and you know you would not respect me if I did.”

He shrugged. “I'm allowed to run my own life.”

“You think it was reasonable to kick Josh out like you did? You think it was reasonable to have Vance hit me with that bitchy attitude? You think it was nice to kick me out of bed for him? You got off easy, if you ask me.”

There was a long period of silence. I glared at him and went to the bathroom and started the shower. I stripped off my clothes and got in, and I knew that if he came in to join me, I'd won. He did.

“Let's not fight baby,” he said as he moved up against me. “I did miss you.”

“I missed you too,” I said, moving my body against him in the sexiest ways I knew. Peter is a smooth lover, and he pushed all of my buttons like a master accordion player. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensations, trying not to think about Roger. That was actually easy. Peter's hands were smooth, refined, while Roger's were rough, calloused, and manly. I let him in enough to trigger our connection, and we came in a good orgasm. The fantastic sex of the past was just that, past, but this wasn't too bad.

The weekend passed quietly, with Peter and me reconnecting and redefining our relationship. To pretend that the original fire was still there was ludicrous, but there were still feelings, and I still cared about him. I closed on the Malibu house on Monday morning and took him to see it on my way out of town.

“This is a nice place. Maybe I'll move in next door,” he said.

“I'd love it, but I do not know what Jackie would say.” We both laughed.

“All of this shit has really fucked up our relationship,” Peter said to me sadly.

“It has changed it Peter. I consider you to be one of my best friends, and a very sexy one at that. I still love you, I truly do. Based on our personalities and our, uh, situations, do you not think that is a stronger foundation?”

He looked thoughtful. “I guess you're right. At first I couldn't stand for you to be gone, and then I couldn't stand the sight of you.” That made me giggle. “Now I just enjoy your company and I'm genuinely happy to see you.”

“Me too,” I said as I kissed him. Then I pulled him up to my bedroom and even though there was no furniture, we christened the house. On my way to the airport, I thought about it and decided that I had to call this visit a success. I'd bought a kick-ass house, got an office rented, and repaired my relationship with Peter, or at least moved it to a more comfortable status.

My flight was delayed so I didn't get into San Jose until almost 8pm. I dallied with whether to go to Escorial, or to go to the winery to see Roger, and went back and forth between the two throughout the flight. When I was leaving LA, I was inclined to go to Escorial, but that was because I'd just had sex with Peter. By the time I'd landed in San Jose, I was recharged and really missed Roger. I headed to the winery.

As I bumped along the road to the winery, I was glad I'd brought my old Chrysler. The 300 was a really neat car, although since I'd gotten the Porsche it had spent most of its days in the garage. But it was big and fast and had a much cushier suspension. When I got to the small house that Roger lived in I noticed another car there, an old, beat up car. I walked past it and saw that it was a Ford Falcon with Oregon license plates.

I approached the house and heard loud voices inside, one was unmistakably Roger's, and the other was a woman. Her words were the first I could actually discern. “I don't care what that old bastard said in his will. It ain't right that you get all this land and money and we're left broke.”

“And I don't care what you think. It's mine. He left it to me. The two of you can go straight to hell for all I care.” I'd never heard Roger mad, or raise his voice in anger. It was a little scary.

“You don't talk to your mama like that,” she shrieked and I heard the slap of skin on skin. “Your daddy's already in hell, in that jail, and you as good as sent him there yourself.”

“He went to jail because he was a stupid, worthless person, and I'm going to do everything I can to see that he stays there. As for you, I don't know you; you don't mean anything to me. Get the hell out of here, and don't come back. Ever!”

“I'll be happy to leave. But I can't help but wonder what all these fancy people you're hangin' around with would think if they knew the truth about you. You might end up in worse shape than me, if I was to tell them.” Her voice had changed from shrill to scheming.

“Nice try Edna, but that isn't gonna work. Tell them whatever you want, they won't give a shit.”

“Really?” she said. “You mean they won't...” And just then I stumbled over a bench on the porch and made a huge racket, shutting both of them up. A light went on and blinded me, and I looked up to see a very angry Roger staring at me. It was really sweet to see the angry look fade to one of happiness when he saw it was me, and then one of concern when he saw me holding my sore shin.

“You OK?” He asked as he helped me up.

“Yeah, I just stumbled like a clumsy idiot,” I said. “You OK?”

“I just have an unwelcome visitor who is about to leave,” he said, and the woman appeared in the door behind him.

“I ain't goin' nowhere. Who is this, another one of your faggy boyfriends?” I watched him snap like it was slow motion. He turned to her, a small, thin, old broken up woman, and picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. It was incredibly eerie the way she reminded me of Jeff's mother, Mrs. Hayes. She kicked and screamed and slammed her fists into his back. He carried her over to the Falcon, opened the door, and tossed her in.

“Now leave and never come back. You say what you want to say, do what you want to do, but you are out of my life for good.” And with that he slammed the door on her.

She honked the horn and rolled down the window to yell at him, but he just went inside and finally we heard the old car start up roughly and chug out of sight.

I'd never seen Roger upset and flustered, but he was a mess. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around him. At first he fell into me, then he tried to push me away, fought, pushed, not violently but insistently, to get away, and then, when I refused to budge, he just gave in and I absorbed him.

With anyone else I probably would have spent hours talking about this, trying to sooth his emotions and get to the root of the problem. Not Roger. We just stripped down and got in bed and went to sleep. I was tired and he was stressed, so he clung to me and we drifted off. It was the first time I'd gone to bed with him and we hadn't had sex.

May 8, 1973

When I woke up Roger was already gone. I wandered through the small house, but it was empty. I put on my clothes and walked out to the winery, but he wasn't there either. I was about to get irritated when I finally spotted him at the top of the hill, gazing at the vineyard spread in front of him.

“You were gone when I woke up,” I said as I approached him.

“I'm sorry. I almost woke you up but you were sleeping so peacefully I didn't want to bother you.” He pulled me into his arms and gave me a big hug. “Thanks for coming to see me, and for staying with me last night.”

“I'm there for you,” I said. “Although when I first saw the car I was wondering who you were seeing on the side,” I threw out playfully.

“It was just my fucking mother,” he said. “Besides, I told you that you're the only one I want.” Aww. Wasn't he so sweet? He was trying to distract me from asking about her.

“She was not exactly charming,” I said, not letting him off the hook.

“She's not. She wanted money. Not that I have all that much anyway, but I sure as hell wouldn't give it to her even if I did.” The bitterness in his tone was palpable.

“So you going to tell me about them?” I asked.

“I'd rather not,” he said. He seemed to realize that wasn't going to work, so he did the next best thing. He delayed. “Let's go out to dinner tonight and we'll talk then, OK?”

“Fine,” I said, forcing myself to be cheerful. “I've got to head into the office. Why do you not meet me at home around 6pm? Then we can go out or stay in and spend some time together.” I moved my hands down his chest to his crotch. “In the meantime, think you can spare me a few minutes?”

He grinned at me and we made love out in the middle of the vineyard, under the morning sun. It just doesn't get much more romantic than that.

I went by Saratoga to shower and change, and to pick up the Porsche, so I didn't get to work until almost 10am. Jason was not happy, and that made me snicker. He was so uptight and anal sometimes it was fun to just throw him for a loop. Still, he had me enshrined in my office and stuck in meetings all day long, even during lunch, so by 5pm I had to absolutely force my way out of there and head home. It was a frustrating day with lots of talking and not much action.

The kids were thrilled to see me, especially Brad. I remembered my promise to take him to Paris, and that weighed on me. I had some things to work out in Paris that I probably needed to take care of before we went. I headed off to find JP and ended up running into him in his study, where he was sitting with Isidore looking very anxious.

“I'm sorry, I did not mean to interrupt,” I lied as I entered the room.

“Stefan!” JP exclaimed and they both got up to hug me and welcome me home. I knew they were sincere, but I also knew that JP was using this as a tool to change the subject.

“It is good to see you both. Is everything alright?” They looked at each other, and then JP said simply “Fine, everything is fine.” I hid my irritation and headed to my room. All this drama and no one would tell me anything. That was going to change this evening or I was going to be one pissed off customer.

Roger came strolling in and we showered together and had amazing sex. I contemplated that even though I liked to have sex with lots of people; the ones I really cared about were the ones that I had the most fun with. We lay in bed together afterward, and just as I was about to grill him about last night, a knock on the door heralded JP and the news that dinner was almost ready.

Dinner was pleasant as usual, although the tension in the air was pretty high. The only thing remotely satisfying about it was that Sam seemed as perplexed about things as I was. We waited for the kids to finish and to leave, and then JP sighed, the sigh that said he knew he needed to fill us in but didn't really want to.

“Sorry if I'm out of sorts tonight,” he said. “We've been dealing with some family difficulties today. Isidore and my brother are having a disagreement that is creating some consternation in Claremont.” Isidore rolled her eyes at his downplayed introduction, but he pressed on. “Roger, it really is unfair to talk about this nonsense in front of you. I hope you will excuse us.”

I looked at Roger and he wasn't bothered at all. He was as curious as I was, but that was just JP's way of letting Roger know that he was being involved in family matters, which was a compliment that came with an obligation. Roger seemed to understand exactly what he was saying. “Please don't let me interfere JP. If you'd like me to leave, I'd be happy to, but I hope you know you can trust me to keep my mouth shut.”

“Unlike me,” I said with my sluttiest voice, trying to add some levity. It worked.

JP smiled at me as he shook his head. “I never doubted that I could trust you for a minute Roger. Please stay if you want.”

“So what's the issue?” asked Sam, never one for small talk.

“They want to restructure our compensation,” Isidore said with vitriol she rarely showed. “The problem is that the Midwest regions are stagnating because of the economy, while my branch, as well as the branches in the Northwest and in some parts of the South, is booming. They want to equalize our compensation so that the bonuses those of us in prosperous areas earn are shared with the managers in the areas that are suffering from a slow economy.”

“Surely it is not unreasonable to allow for some equalization so those people are not too distressed?” I opined. JP looked at me with a raised eyebrow, because such a concept used to be foreign to the Stefan that had first arrived in the US from France. That Stefan, a mercenary capitalist, would have said fuck the others.

“You think I am heartless? Of course some allowance would be fine, but the proposal is to pool the entire amount of our bonuses and then divide them up based on seniority. And since those of us in the booming areas are the newer managers, we end up being doubly screwed.” Isidore was incensed and outraged, the outrage that comes from being right and knowing it.

JP intervened at that point. “My brother, more than my father, is really irritated with Isidore and the other 'rebel' managers for being disloyal, seeing their opposition as a stab in the back.” He held up his hand to silence her. “I think he is being unreasonable, but that is his point of view. He is in Ohio and sees the impact of this downturn firsthand, and the people he's trying to protect have been friends and co-workers of his for years.”

“What about your father?” I asked. “Does he still not run the company?”

“He has delegated all of the operational aspects to Jim and he's not going to get involved. When I talked to him he was annoyed with me for even getting involved in the first place, so imagine how unwilling he is to dive into things.”

“So what will happen?” Roger asked, instantly aware that he had no place to say anything. JP gave him a reassuring smile, letting him know that it was alright for him to ask the question, and I told myself for the zillionth time that I was such a fool for ever letting JP get out of my grip all those years ago. He was such a gem.

Isidore answered before he could. “Either they will reconsider their ill-advised plan, or I will break off from the company and form my own. That will put you in a tough position, my friend, because Crampton will still want your business and so will I.” She had directed all the attention to me with that comment.

I didn't want to work with anyone but Isidore, but I also didn't want to be forced into a snap decision. “Surely it will not come to that?”

“Unless Isidore and her colleagues acquiesce, or Jim and the others find some sort of compromise, that's where we're headed,” JP said somberly. “We may need to work with you to raise some cash if we have to open up our own firm,” he said to me.

That statement seemed to change the whole tone at the table. It told Isidore that he was behind her, and that if push came to shove he would back her up over his family. The shock and pleasure on her face showed that she hadn't felt secure in that up until now. He also told me that he expected me to take the same line, and in fact he assumed it, which was pretty effective because I could never say no to him. And finally, he was letting us all know that he did not have an unlimited amount of money to make this happen.

“So what's next?” asked Sam.

“I have dispatched a letter to my father-in-law and Jim outlining my position and giving them, in effect, an ultimatum. If I don't get a positive response by the 15th of this month, then I know I must start all over again.”

“It will hardly be starting all over again,” I said. “You have all the contacts, all the sub-contractors in your pocket. Plus I've got projects on the table that will keep us busy for a while, especially if you are willing to go slumming and start building houses.”

She nodded appreciatively. “I have never worked with someone as wonderful as you Stefan. You are a man of your word and a true friend. I knew I could count on you.” She got up and gave me a kiss, then excused herself. It dawned on me that I'd fallen into a trap and been forced to commit myself. I rationalized that by acknowledging that I would have ended up behind her and JP anyway.

“So what does your mother have to say about this?” I asked JP.

“She is like me, irritated that it has been allowed to interrupt the relationships within the family. I suspect you will find that even Tonto has an opinion, although I don't know what exactly it is.”

I laughed. “Whatever it is, she's sure to feel strongly about it.” We headed out to the patio to smoke our nightly joint, and Roger once again pulled out some of his awesome weed.

“You should understand that any funding my parents or Crampton have provided you before would dry up if this schism happens,” JP said to me as we gazed at the stars.

“I have alternative sources now, hopefully.” And I filled him in on my office in LA. “How will this impact you?”

He looked thoughtful. “It's going to suck. There will be a huge rift between us and our family in Claremont. Financially, we'll be OK unless this becomes a huge capital drain. But I still have some money in the market, what's left of it anyway, and the investments you've made for me. They're illiquid though. And of course Escorial and the beach house.”

“You would not sell them would you?” I was horrified at the thought of losing either one of those gems.

“I don't think that will be necessary,” he said.

“You must promise to talk to me before you even contemplate it,” I said. He nodded, but that wasn't good enough. I made him swear. And suddenly, a simple corporate schism threatened to undermine the lifestyle I'd taken for granted and the empire I was trying to build. I was so disturbed by all of this that I forgot to drill Roger about his mother. I still let him drill me though.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Family can be more difficult to deal with in business than almost anything else. JP will back Isidore and so will Stefin the end. Isidore has proven to be a smart business woman and Stef has proven to be a genius at it. JP will try to find a way to keep everyone in the fold but sometimes that just isn't possible.

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I'm glad Peter realized what he lost, and that he and Stefan are in a good place. Roger's family seems like some real gems, I guess he's like Jeff in more ways than one. Jim is being unreasonable and unfair with his profit sharing plan...he'll lose good people and then be stuck with a bunch of highly paid dead weight that think they are entitled to the fruit of other people's labor. I'm completely wrapped up in all of this...thanks (I think :P).

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Roger was still amazing in bed, and he still showed absolutely no signs of talking about his sexuality. That frustrated me,

Why? Why are people so hung on labels? What business is it of Stef's or anyone else how Roger identifies? It is possible to be straight and love a gay man and want to be with him. Isn't that what happened with Andre?

JP and Isidore need to fly to Claremont and meet with Jim, face to face.

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