Текст книги "Games Frat Boys Play "

Автор книги: Todd Gregory

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 12

Iwoke up the next morning feeling a lot better about everything.

I sat up in the bed and glanced over at my alarm. It was almost ten. I turned on my iHome and yawned as Lady Gaga’s “Paparazzi” began playing. It was a particularly apt song, I thought, given as it was about stalking. The sun was shining in through my windows—it was a beautiful morning. My bed felt comfortable, and I thought about staying in bed and trying to go back to sleep for another hour or so, but dismissed it. I had a lot of damage to repair, and lying in bed wasn’t going to get any of it done.

And I could smell coffee brewing. I’d set the automatic timer on my coffeemaker before going to sleep, and the aroma was too much to resist.

I got out of bed and walked into the bathroom, then washed my face and brushed my teeth. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled at my reflection. “Today,” I said to my image, “you’re going to kick some serious ass, take no prisoners, and make some people sorry they were ever born.”

It was a good feeling.

I shook my head, wondering at how worked up I’d been the night before. At first, I hadn’t been able to fall asleep—which wasn’t a surprise. As I’d lain there in bed, staring at the ceiling, with Brandon’s smell still clinging to my sheets, I ticked off on my fingers everything that had gone wrong: a video of me messing around with Jay in the steam room at the gym circulating on the Internet, Jay getting fired, and apparently my fledgling relationship with Dante was over before it could begin. It was pretty safe to assume that Dante may have seen the video. It was also safe to assume that Rees had told Chad about Dante and me.

Chad, Chad, Chad—it always came back to Chad, didn’t it?

How could I have ever thought I was in love with him? I’d sighed, resisting the urge to pound my head against the wall. I’d ignored the truth about him from the very beginning because I was so fucking attracted to him, overlooking his cruelties and bitchy little remarks. But in fairness, he’d played me. The question was, why? Brandon said it was because of the money, but that didn’t make any sense to me. He’d never asked me for money. When we went out, we took turns buying drinks. When we went out to eat, we took turns paying. I’d been very careful to not make the difference in our financial situations apparent. Maybe that was it—maybe Chad had expected me to pay for everything and he resented that I didn’t? But that didn’t make any sense, either.

I’d kept tossing and turning, watching shadows from the moon dancing on the ceiling. You’ll never know what his motivations were, I had finally told myself, and ultimately, it doesn’t matter. You never did anything to him to justify what he’s done. And it was one thing when he was just pulling shit on you—but he got Jay fired, and that’s unforgivable. Jay never did anything to him. He didn’t even know Jay.

And yes, we shouldn’t have done it in the steam room. It was the first time I’d ever done anything like that, and maybe Jay did make it a habit—which logically meant he should have been fired.

But making a video of us and circulating it on the Web? That was bullshit—utter and complete bullshit. Maybe it seemed funny at the time, but that kind of shit could haunt someone for the rest of his life. That, I think, was what made me the angriest. It didn’t hurt me in the long run. I was never going to have to worry about getting a job, and I certainly had no plans to ever run for public office.

But Jay was a personal trainer, and what gym would hire him knowing he had blown a client in the last gym where he worked? And even if they didn’t know and hired him, he’d always have to worry it might turn up sometime.

Jay was a great guy. He’d turned me from an out-of-shape nerd boy into someone who turned heads whenever he walked into a gay bar. He’d always been nice to me, except for that last training session when he’d been so distant and cold—and maybe that was because he already knew about the video.

Chad has to pay, I’d thought, closing my eyes, and tomorrow morning you can figure it all out. It was one thing to come after me, but destroying other people to get at me? No, that couldn’t go unpunished. And you know exactly what to do, and how to do it.

And with that enormously satisfying thought, I had been able to fall asleep.

I took a shower and then took my coffee out onto the balcony. I sat down on the wicker love seat and closed my eyes for a moment. It was very peaceful out there, and my mind flashed back to Dante’s backyard. I need to get some wind chimes here, I thought with a pang. My heart hurt at the thought of Dante. I really liked him. It could have led to something special. You’re getting ahead of yourself, I thought. Just because he didn’t want you to come over last night and canceled Sunday doesn’t mean anything. Something else may have come up, and the timing with all the rest of this bullshit was just bad. As much as I wanted to believe that, I knew.

I smiled. Poor, stupid Chad was about to get it between the eyes—so enjoy your little triumph while you still can, you fucking bitch.

I wasn’t going to have my gym membership suspended, and I knew I could get Jay’s job back. I picked up my cell phone and made the call to get the ball rolling. “As soon as possible,” I instructed. “Preferably today. I’ll be waiting for your call.” I smiled as I disconnected the call. I stroked my chin with the edge of my phone.

Money, indeed, was power.

And that was it for the video. Who fucking cared if it went viral on the Internet? So what? It was just two sweaty guys in a steam room going down on each other. Big fucking deal. The picture quality wasn’t that great, and in fact, you could barely tell it was me and Jay. The only people it would be of interest to would be people we knew. I sent Jay another text: Jay, I’m taking care of everything. I will call you later once everything is fixed. Don’t worry. Hope you’re okay. Jordy.

I got a second cup of coffee and was just sitting back down when my phone chirped. I clicked on the message from Jay: Hey man, sorry about everything, this whole mess is my fault and I need to own up to it. I’m freaked out and don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’m sure I’ll come up with something.

I shook my head and texted back: Just sit tight, babe. I’m handling everything.

My phone chirped again while I was answering him. I clicked on the new message and smiled. It was from Brandon: Thanks again for last night. Man, that was some hot sex! And thanks for the paper. I just e-mailed it in.

Another piece fell into place—one I hoped I wouldn’t have to use.

I did like Brandon—and he’d told me the truth about Chad.

But if I had to, I would.

I called Dante, but he didn’t pick up. “Dante, hey, this is Jordy, can you give me a call when you get a moment? We need to talk.” I ended the call and sat there, watching the pool. There was someone lying out there on one of the reclining deck chairs, and I thought it might be Jeff, but I couldn’t tell for sure. Blair’s car wasn’t in the parking lot. It was calm and peaceful on the balcony. There was a nice cool breeze blowing, the sun was shining, and the sky was blue. I appreciated the solitude—Dante was right. Having a place you could go and be peaceful was helpful. Definitely need to get some wind chimes, I thought again. I felt another pang about him. But maybe it wasn’t too late to rescue that—and I reminded myself there was a slight chance Dante hadn’t seen the video.

I stood up and stretched. But if that’s what it is—if Dante saw the video and wants nothing to do with you now—then he wasn’t who you thought he was in the first place, and do you want to have a relationship with someone that judgmental?

Definitely food for thought there.

I got another cup of coffee and sat down at my computer. I wanted to watch the video again, just to be on the safe side. I needed to know a few things before I made my next call.

This time, I clicked the video player to full-screen mode. When it started playing, I watched carefully. Something had bothered me when I watched it the first time, but I’d be unable to put my finger on what it was. That was partly, I now realized, because I’d been in so much shock I hadn’t been able to think clearly—to think anything besides oh, my God. But now, as it started, I was able to put my finger on exactly what had bothered me the first time I’d viewed it.

I distinctly remembered that the outer glass wall of the steam room, looking out into the shower area, had been fogged up. I hadn’t been able to see through it. When I’d been sitting in there, I had no idea Jay was even out there until he opened the door and walked inside. So how had someone in the locker room seen what we were doing, let alone been able to tape it? The girl at the front desk had said someone had seen us from the locker room.

That wasn’t possible.

And as the video started again, I smiled to myself.

At the start of the video, you could see me from above and behind. I was sitting on the first row of benches with my feet on the floor. There was steam swirling in the room, but you could see me relatively clearly. After about three seconds, the door to the steam room opened and Jay walked in, naked, and sat down next to me.

There had been no one else in the steam room when I had walked in, so whoever had taped this had not been in there. I clicked the video player closed—I was all too familiar with what happened next—and thought for a moment. I closed my eyes, leaned back in my desk chair, and tried to recall exactly what the back wall of the steam room looked like. Obviously, whoever had shot the video had some kind of peephole into the steam room. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember everything about the back wall—I’d never had any reason to pay any attention to it. That was a useless line of thought.

Well, then, what’s behind the wall?

I pictured the gym again. It was a stand-alone building, with a parking lot in the front that continued around for more parking on either side and parking in the back. The front wall was all glass. The cardio equipment was lined up along the front windows so you could look out onto Shaw Avenue while you worked out. The front two-thirds of the building was devoted to the weight area. The front desk was located in the center of the weight area, and it was round with refrigerated cabinets below that stocked water, protein and energy drinks, and assorted protein bars. The locker rooms were in the back—the men’s on the left side, the ladies’ on the right. Separating the locker rooms were office spaces and the storage room.

I raised an eyebrow. Either the storage room or someone’s office had a peephole into the men’s steam room.

And I was pretty sure Body Quest’s owners wouldn’t want that to become public knowledge.

The next question was, who actually shot the video?

Someone who had access to the offices and the storage room. It had to be someone who worked there.

I laughed. I knew exactly who’d done it.

I picked up my phone and made the call I needed. I asked the right questions and got the answers I’d expected. I hung up and smiled again.

Money was indeed power.

I poured what was left in my coffeepot into my mug and walked back out onto the balcony. My father had once advised me, “Anytime you’re in a situation where you get emotional or start to panic, the most important thing to remember is to calm down and put your emotions to the side—and think logically. Logical thought will almost always get you out of any situation. Logic never fails. Your emotions will cause you to make mistakes every time. Don’t shut them down completely—you don’t ever want to become one of those people who don’t feel anything. That’s a living death. But you don’t want to ever make a decision based on emotions. That only works out if you get lucky, but ninety-nine times out of a hundred you’ll wind up worse off than you were before. Never forget that.”

I sat back down on the wicker love seat on the balcony and picked up my phone again. I dialed Dante’s number and got his voice mail again. I sighed, and then sent him a text. I don’t know what’s going on but we need to talk.

It was entirely possible I was overreacting, but it was weird how he’d gone from hot to cold so quickly.

Logic.

Bobby Dunlap had sent me the steam room video. I went back inside and pulled up my e-mail account. I clicked on his e-mail and checked. Yes, I’d been blind copied. The time stamp on the e-mail showed it had been sent around seven-thirty Friday night. I rolled my eyes and opened an Internet-tracking program. Stupid, stupid people, I thought. My father wrote programs and had his own programming company. Do you honestly think I can’t find out just about anything I want to through a computer? I was using computers before I was five. I’ve forgotten more about computers—and the Internet—than you’ll ever know. And I have access to software your average Joe does not.

It took me exactly four minutes to hack into Bobby Dunlap’s e-mail—the university’s e-mail service was “protected” by a security system that was laughable—and see who he’d copied on the message. As I scrolled through the addresses, I shook my head. He’d sent it to almost every single Beta Kappa—so everyone in the house had seen it. But one name was missing from the list: Chad York. [email protected] wasn’t on Bobby’s list. I went to his in-box, and there wasn’t anything there with a video attachment. I rolled my eyes and clicked on Deleted Mail. Like so many others, Bobby believed that deleting an e-mail got rid of it and didn’t know he actually had to clear his deleted mail archive.

Typical.

And sure enough, there it was.

An e-mail from Chad with a video attachment, and the subject line read: Check this out.

I opened the e-mail and read the message.

Bobby,

Download this video. I am sure you will be as shocked as I was. For obvious reasons, I can’t forward this around. Would you mind doing it? Everyone in the house has to see this.

Xo Chad

I forwarded it to myself. I signed out of Bobby’s e-mail account and switched over to mine. I opened the e-mail and hit print. I leaned back in my chair and thought while it printed. I leaned forward and opened another access program—one my father’s company had developed for law enforcement. I logged in the IP address of Bobby’s computer and crossed my fingers. If his computer was hooked up to a wireless network—which Beta Kappa had—I could access his computer like it was right in front of me.

Got to love wireless. I smiled to myself as Bobby’s desktop came up on my computer. I clicked on his documents folder. Oh, silly, silly Bobby, I thought as I started dragging all his class notes to the trash. I opened a couple of files—term papers he was working on. Pity, I thought as I deleted them. Sure hope none of these are due soon. It was tempting to load a hard-drive-destroying virus, but I resisted that temptation. A corner of my mouth curled up into a smirk. No virus, I decided, because while that might suck, it will drive him crazy wondering what happened to all his schoolwork. I pictured him sitting in front of his computer, eyes wide in horror, as he tried to find his term papers and finally realizing they were gone forever.

Next time you’ll think twice before doing Chad’s dirty work, asshole, I thought as I emptied the trash, smiling at the pop-up warning ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO EMPTY TRASH? FILES WILL BE PERMANENTLY DELETED AND CANNOT BE RETRIEVED. I knew that wasn’t strictly true; a ghost of the files would remain on the hard drive and an expert tech could retrieve them—but it would also cost a fortune Bobby didn’t have. I clicked the Yes box, and the trash emptied.

Never should have fucked with me, Bobby. I’m smarter and richer than Chad. You picked the wrong side, now suffer the consequences.

I whistled as I deleted all evidence I’d tapped into his computer from his history files, and I logged out of his computer.

Even the best forensic computer expert wouldn’t be able to figure out someone had hacked in.

For a brief moment, I considered hacking into Chad’s laptop, but decided against it.

I had something much nastier in store for his sorry ass.

Someone started knocking on my front door, and my heart lifted for just a moment, thinking it might be Dante. But it couldn’t be—security hadn’t called me to let him in. I really do care about him, I thought sadly as I went to see who it was, and cursed Chad again.

I opened the door to see Jeff standing there in his white Speedo, a blue towel draped around his shoulders. “You got any coffee made?” He gave me his dazzling smile. Beads of water speckled his firm chest. “We’re out and I’m dying.”

“Come on in. There’s some in the kitchen,” I replied, standing aside to let him in. “Where’s Blair?” I asked as he took the last of the coffee.

“Do you mind if I make some more?” he asked, yawning. “Blair left for Palm Springs yesterday. His dad is being interviewed for one of those stupid magazines for a special on Father’s Day, and they’re doing a photo shoot, and they want Blair to be a part of it.” He dumped the wet grounds and refilled another coffee filter. He took a big drink from his mug and sighed in relief as the coffeemaker started brewing. “On my own this weekend.” He shook his head. “Was a shitty night at the bar last night—dead. I didn’t even get a hundred bucks.” He yawned again. “I don’t know why I bother sometimes. I’m completely exhausted, and for what? Maybe it’s time to stop dancing and get a real job.” He plopped down on the couch. “I could make more at Starbucks.”

“Would they let you work in a Speedo?” I teased, following him into the living room. “I’d certainly frequent that Starbucks if they did.”

He laughed. “I don’t think that would fly.” He peered at me. “How are you doing this morning?”

“I’ve been better.” I shrugged. “Last night was kind of rough, but I’m figuring it all out.” I grinned at him. “Some things have gone down, but I’m looking at it as an intellectual challenge.”

He set the mug down on the coffee table. “Listen, Jordy, I’ve got to tell you something.” He cleared his throat. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but this morning when I checked my e-mail—”

“You had a message from Bobby Dunlap with a video attachment,” I interrupted him. “When you clicked it open, it was a video of me having sex with someone in a steam room.”

“Oh, you know.” His body sagged a bit. “I’m so sorry, man. Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah, actually, I am. I freaked out a little last night when I saw it, but what can I do?” I shrugged. “It’s already out there—Bobby sent it to the whole brotherhood. It’s embarrassing, but I’m okay with it. I’ll live, obviously.” I gave him a brittle grin. “Hey, it might even get me laid. It’s a good advertisement.”

Jeff laughed. “Well, you’ve certainly got a great attitude about it. It’s weird, you know, I made porn when I was a junior active, and the brothers found out about it. It was just that one weekend, but—” He sighed. “At least things have changed around the house since then. I was almost expelled from the house.”

“Seriously?” I hadn’t thought about that. I closed my eyes for a second and fought down the panic. Remember, you’ve got an ace in the hole. “You think maybe that’s why Bobby sent it around? To get me blackballed?”

Jeff’s eyes widened. “Oh, God, I didn’t think of that.” He shook his head, drops of water flying. “I don’t think that’s Bobby’s style. He’s a gossip—and he probably didn’t think about that.” He frowned. “If enough brothers complain, though—yeah, they could try. Conduct unbecoming a Beta Kappa, which is a fine line, you know. Being gay’s not a problem anymore—that’s why they tried to get rid of me, which forced the issue. Fortunately, the brothers decided to make the house open to gays. But yeah, it’s a possibility.”

“I’m not worried about it.” I gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Jeff. Trust me, I have the entire thing under control.” I waved a hand. “I’m not worried.” My phone rang. I saw who it was and smiled. I held up a finger. “I need to take this. Give me a second, okay?” I walked out onto the balcony. “Hello?” As I listened, my smile grew. “Excellent,” I said. “Absolutely excellent. Go for it.” I hung up just as my phone chirped. It was a text from Chris: Hey, I need to talk to you before Big Brother Night. Can you come by my office around six?

See you then, I replied. I walked back into the living room. “I just got a text from Chris—he wants me to come by his office at six.”

“Uh-oh.” He frowned. “That’s not good.”

“Don’t worry.” I put my phone down. “I’m not.”

“Well, call me and let me know how it goes. You sure you’re okay?”

“I swear.”

“Cool.” He got up and gave me a hug. “If you need to talk . . .”

“I’ll call you.” I squeezed him back. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some things to take care of before I meet with Chris.”

“Can I take another cup of coffee?”

I nodded. After the door shut behind him, I checked my watch. It was almost one. I retrieved my phone from the study and checked it. Dante hadn’t answered my text.

Maybe he’s just busy. Yeah, right.

I didn’t have time to deal with Dante today.

I walked out to the car and drove over to Body Quest.

The parking lot was practically empty, so I parked close to the front door. I walked in and smiled at the guy working at the front desk as I approached. “Hi,” I said as he smirked back at me. I’d been right. I’d seen him before—at Fusions. He was short, maybe about five seven, with red hair and freckles. I’d always thought he was kind of hot—had even thought about hitting on him once or twice. Now, I was glad I never had. “Hi,” I said. “Is Rosemary in?”

He nodded. “She’s in her office.”

I glanced at his name tag. “Thanks, Robby.”

I walked back to the office. Before I stuck my head in the door, I checked. The room behind Rosemary’s office lined up with the steam room. I rapped on the door as I entered. “Rosemary, can I speak to you?”

She looked up. She was maybe about five feet tall and was of Hispanic descent. Her hair was a mop of disheveled curls, and she was about twenty or thirty pounds overweight. She never wore makeup and had an abrupt, unfriendly manner. I’d never liked her—she was kind of a rude bitch, which was going to make this even more fun.

Her eyes narrowed. “Ah, yes. Jordan Valentine. I’ve been meaning to call you. Would you mind shutting the door?”

“Not at all.” I slammed it and sat down in a chair in front of her desk.

She cleared her throat. “It has come to my attention you’ve engaged in conduct on the property that is unacceptable, and I’m afraid I am going to have to cancel your gym membership.” She tapped a pencil on her desk. “You’ve been a really good member, and I’m sorry that it’s come to this.”

“And you’ve already fired Jay?”

“I’m afraid so.” She bit her lower lip.

“And just how did you find out? About our conduct?”

She flushed. “I was e-mailed a video of—what you two did in the steam room. Obviously, I have no choice in this matter.” She passed an envelope across her desk. “You’d paid for a year’s membership in advance, and you’d also paid for three more months of training sessions with Jay. I’ve written you a check for the money you paid. I didn’t have to do that—your conduct violated the membership agreement you signed, and so you were entitled to no refund. But I want this to be as amicable as possible.”

I kept smiling. “I have absolutely no desire to make this amicable, madam.”

Her face turned a darker hue of red. “You have no choice in this.”

“On the contrary, I actually hold all the cards here.” I leaned back in my chair and put my feet up on her desk. “Someone with a more curious mind, madam, might have wondered a bit about that video and how it was shot. Do you honestly believe that Jay and I are both so fucking stupid we would have sex in the steam room with someone else in there recording us?” I gestured to the door at the back of her office. “Where does that door lead?”

“The storeroom. Kindly remove your feet from my desk.”

“There is obviously a peephole in the wall the storeroom and steam room share.” I left my feet on her desk. “I’m sure the rest of the membership of Body Quest would be fascinated to find out about that.”

All the color drained out of her face.

“And I am relatively certain only employees have access to the storeroom,” I went on. “I am certain the members would find that even more fascinating—and so would a judge.” I winked at her. “I mean, how does anyone know that’s the only tape in existence? Maybe other members have been taped in the steam room. Granted, they might not be doing anything untoward, the way Jay and I were, but I think you’ll find that most people will take a very dim view of being photographed or videotaped in the nude without their knowledge.” I removed my feet from her desk and leaned forward. “Judges take a very dim view of that as well.”

Her mouth opened and closed. No sound came out.

“In fact, I forwarded the video to my attorney this morning.” I folded my arms. “He was quite fascinated, especially when I explained it could have only been shot by one of your employees and that neither Jay nor I gave our consent to being taped, and there are no signs posted in the men’s locker room that there are surveillance cameras.” I leaned forward. “So not only is there a civil suit looming—my attorney seems to think we can sue for, oh, I don’t know, at least a couple of million—there are also some criminal liabilities involved as well.”

“Oh, my God.” She barely whispered the words.

“But I hate the whole notion of civil and criminal trials,” I went on. “So, I had my attorney contact the owners of this business and inform them of what exactly was going on around here. They weren’t very happy. But we offered them a way out.” I stood up and walked over to the storeroom door. “Apparently, Body Quest is struggling financially. Some months you wind up in the black, sometimes you’re in the red—which doesn’t really speak very well to your management style or abilities.” I turned the knob. The door was locked, but it didn’t matter. “So, I had my attorney make the owners an offer, which they accepted. Once the paperwork is finished, Rosemary, I will be the new owner of this business.” I walked over to the desk and put my hands down. “We anticipate the closing will take place on Monday.”

“I—I—”

“When I walked into this office, Rosemary, I hadn’t really made up my mind what to do about you.” I smiled. “But once you started in with your condescending, superior attitude, with absolutely no interest whatsoever in the egregious criminal invasion of my and Jay’s privacy—at the hands of one of your employees, in your place of business– you made up my mind for me. Once the sale is closed on Monday morning, you’re fucking fired.” I waved my hand around the office. “I suggest you start packing up your personal property. If you have not removed it all from this office by one on Monday afternoon, it will be thrown into the trash. You will be escorted off the premises by the police.” I walked over to the door, and paused. “Wow, that felt really good. Thank you, Rosemary. I really enjoyed this. Have a nice day, you miserable bitch.”

She stared at me, her mouth open, as I shut the door to her office.

It did feel good.

Money is power.

I walked up to the front desk. Robby was smirking at me, one eyebrow raised. “Hello, Robby.” I smiled at him. “I bet you didn’t know that whenever you use your phone to videotape or take a picture, there’s a digital marker on the images that is particular to that phone. It’s kind of like fingerprints.”

His smirk vanished.

“So, I hope fucking Chad—or whatever little reward he gave you—was worth it.” I winked at him. “I have someone tracing that video of me and Jay back to the phone that originally recorded it even as we speak. I hope for your sake it wasn’t yours—because we are going to press criminal charges.” I clicked my tongue. “I bet you didn’t know it was illegal to record people without their permission, especially when it’s done maliciously, to embarrass or humiliate the people being recorded. Did you know that?”

“I—”

“And by the way, I certainly hope you have other irons in the fire.” My smile grew. “You see, I bought the gym today. Monday I take possession. And you’re fired.” I turned and started walking away, then stopped and turned back. “And I really feel I have a responsibility to any future potential employers of yours to let them know about your criminal tendencies.” I tilted my head to one side. “I think I saw a Help Wanted sign when I drove past the McDonald’s on Shaw on my way here. That’s about the only job you’re going to get for the rest of your life. Give my best to Chad, will you?”

God, it felt great.

I started whistling “Paparazzi” as I walked back to the car.

I sat behind the wheel of my car and laughed.

Then I started the car and drove home, where I took care of a few more things. Everything was lining up exactly the way I wanted.

Money, indeed, is power.