Toby nodded. This didn’t sound as bad as he thought it would. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“In fact, you have all the qualities it takes to move up in a firm like Johnson, Frederick, and Lindsay. And I’d like to be the one to help you do this.”
Toby still wasn’t sure where all this was going. He’d always believed that if something sounded too good to be true it probably was too good to be true. But he smiled anyway and said, “I’m glad you think so.”
“And that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,” Brad said. “I can help promote your career and put in a good word for you whenever I can, especially with my father-in-law. There’s going to be an opening for a new art director in the spring and I think you’d be perfect for it. Is this something you’d be interested in?”
Toby took a quick breath. This was the last thing he’d expected to hear. “Ah well, yes. I’d certainly be interested in the position.” He couldn’t think of anything that would have made him happier. To move up from assistant art director to art director in less than one year in the same firm was unheard of. It also meant more money, which was something he could use.
“I thought you might be interested,” Brad said. He rubbed his jaw and leaned forward. He rested his elbows on the glass desk and folded his hands. “You live alone, right?” He lowered his tone and lifted one eyebrow.
“Yes. I have a small apartment not far from here.” He still didn’t know where this was going, but if it involved getting him promoted in the firm he wasn’t going to ask questions.
“I was thinking that since I’m willing to help you out with the promotion, you might be willing to help me out,” Brad said. “And being that we have so much in common, if you know what I mean, our unusual friendship would benefit us both. We could have sort of an arrangement. Guys like us have to stick together.”
Toby wasn’t completely sure he knew what Brad was talking about. But he had a feeling it had something to do with the fact that they weren’t heterosexual. The only thing they had in common was that they were attracted to men. “I think I know what you mean. But I don’t see how I can help you. You’re a junior partner; I’m an assistant art director.”
Brad smiled at him and paused. Evidently, he didn’t want to come right out with it. He thought for a moment, as if searching for the right words, and then said, “It’s not always easy to find a nice private place, if you know what I mean. At least not for guys like us. A safe place, where guys like us can just kick back and relax for a couple of hours a week. A small apartment like yours not far from the office would be perfect for someone in my position. It would be the perfect combination of discretion and convenience.”
When Toby finally understood what Brad was talking about, he gulped and said, “It’s not easy. I know what you mean.” He knew there had to be a catch. Guys like Brad Lindsay never offered to help anyone unless there was something good in it for them. Brad wanted to use Toby’s apartment as a destination for his discreet meetings with other men. And he wanted it so badly he was willing to advance Toby’s career.
“And I know I can trust you,” Brad said. “After all, you have just as much to lose as I do.”
At first Toby didn’t understand…it didn’t fully register. But when he thought about what Brad had just said in more detail, he understood completely. Even though Toby wasn’t married to the boss’s daughter, he did, indeed, have just as much to lose as Brad if anyone found out he was homosexual. High profile, respectable firms like Johnson, Frederick, and Lindsay didn’t hire homosexuals knowingly. No one did that. Even the most flamboyant homosexuals Toby had seen on TV, like Truman Capote, never admitted to it openly. They just flitted around, drowning in innuendo, waving their limp wrists and ignoring their identities completely. And they always got a good laugh…at their own expense. So Toby nodded and said, “You can trust me completely.”
“And you can trust me,” Brad said.
Toby stood up and reached across the desk to shake Brad’s hand. “I’ll have a key made this evening. The only thing I ask is that you let me know ahead of time when you’ll be using the apartment so I’m not around. I’d rather not run into you. This way you have complete privacy and I know nothing.”
“No problem,” Brad said. “I think we’re going to be very good friends. It’s the perfect arrangement for both of us.”
Early the next morning, Toby gave Brad a key to his apartment and told him the address. He handed it to him in the reception area and no one even noticed. But the next afternoon when Brad called and asked to use the apartment later that evening for a couple of hours, Toby got a sinking feeling in his stomach. The magnitude of what he’d agreed to do hit him hard and his heart started to race. He couldn’t say no. He’d made the deal and he’d known what he was doing. But there was something about the entire arrangement that didn’t sit well with him. And now he would have to figure out how to kill two hours after work before he could go home to his own apartment.
* * * *
By the end of October, Toby found himself locked out of his own apartment for two hours as often as four nights a week. At least Brad always let him know when he needed the apartment, and he never took longer than the allotted two hours they’d agreed upon. But that didn’t leave Toby many alternatives on the nights Brad used his apartment. Sometimes he’d stay late at the office and work on campaigns. Sometimes he’d walk through the park and eat hot dogs for dinner until it was time to go home. And sometimes he just sat on a park bench and shivered, wondering where on earth Brad Lindsay found the stamina to keep up such an arduous pace with these men.
Toby never asked any questions; he had no idea who Brad was bringing up to his apartment and he didn’t want to know. Toby figured what he was doing was bad enough: covering up Brad’s secret, dysfunctional life; the less Toby knew the better off he was. At least Brad was neat and he respected Toby’s things. The first week Brad started using the apartment he bought Toby ten new sets of white cotton sheets and stacked them in the linen closet. Brad lined a shelf in the medicine cabinet with jars of petroleum jelly. By the time Toby returned to his home, there were always clean sheets on his bed and the apartment always looked the same way Toby had left it in the morning. And sometimes, though not always, there was a nice little bouquet of flowers in a small vase on the coffee table. Though it was a small gesture, and Toby wasn’t sure who was responsible for the flowers, it brightened an otherwise dismal situation and made it more tolerable.