Page 73 of Conquest

They both stopped, neither willing to diverge from his path.

“Greg didn’t say anything to me about you leaving. He sent me down here to work with you guys for the rest of the afternoon.”

“He probably didn’t tell you because, unlike me who knows of your incompetence, he assumed you would know today is June 14th and the birthday of the biggest star under the Phoenix label.”

Tim’s small eyes shrank further as he narrowed them. “Exactly. It’s the birthday of Phoenix’s most important artist, which isn’t you. But I guess you probably have a special little present for him, don’t you? You better hurry along home now so you can give it to him. Maybe after you do, you’ll be able to hit that high note in ‘Euphoria’ you seem to think you’re capable of.”

Jesse burst out with a fake laugh. “It cracks me up that someone as tone deaf as you works in this business. But then I should cut you some slack since multi-tasking between watching Trish’s boobs bounce while she drums and actually paying attention to the music is too much for your small mind.” He moved another step closer to him, locking his gaze into Tim’s in a threatening glare. “Now get your ass out of my way.”

Tim stood unmoving, staring back into Jesse’s eyes. He took a slow step to the side. “Go. I wouldn’t want you crying to him that I was the reason you were late.”

Jesse stormed through the space Tim vacated. He jumped in the ebony Enzo and utilized many of the six hundred and sixty horses to get to Evanston in record time, where he ran into a grocery store and bought a dark chocolate cake mix with dark chocolate frosting, then hit a florist shop and cleaned it out of red roses, knowing roses were Evan’s favorite flower.

He reached home and set about making the cake, and having never made a cake before, was surprised at how easy it was. While it baked, he ran upstairs to shower, then dressed in a tight V-neck, royal blue T-shirt since Evan loved him in blues. He came downstairs and swung back into the kitchen to set the cake out to cool while he went to the backyard with his supplies for the evening.

He placed tall white candles in silver holders on the glass top of the white wrought iron patio table and set a vase of roses in between. Not far from the patio, he laid a blanket over the thick grass. He put lube within easy reach and set small candles in votives around the blanket. By the time he finished, the sky had darkened to deep blue, the horizon edged with a golden glow in the sun’s goodnight wish.

He went back inside, collected two small plates and forks, and brought them out. He lit the candles, put a CD that had the original version as well as different renditions of Pachelbel’s Canon in the player, and hit the repeat button. The disc spun under the clear plastic lid, drifting the first soft notes across the yard.

Smiling in approval at his work, he headed into the house a final time to frost the cake. He grabbed the pan and flipped it to shake the cake out, gasping when only half fell onto the serving tray. He stared at it, dumbstruck. He glanced at the frosting and decided the only thing to do was use it as glue to mend it.

As he dotted on the last glob of frosting, the security system beeped, signaling Evan was home. He sprinted toward the door. He heard one of the garage doors open, followed by the deep rumbling of the new Lamborghini Murcielago that had been delivered a few days before, which had Evan bouncing around the house all day until the delivery truck carrying it arrived. The car was an unquestionable work of art, but he still felt it necessary to tease Evan about buying another black car.

The garage door closed, and a moment later, the knob to the access door turned.

Jesse flung his arms around Evan before he was fully in the house. “Happy birthday!”

Evan laughed and hugged him. “I think that’s the fiftieth time you’ve said that today with the way you were calling me every hour.”

Jesse stepped back to let him in. “Did I drive you nuts?”

“No, I liked it. But I can imagine how frustrated Greg was getting. How’d things go today?”

“Good,” Jesse said, deciding he wasn’t about to ruin Evan’s birthday with telling him about his confrontation with Tim. He followed Evan down the hall and saw him head toward the kitchen. He pounced on Evan’s back and wrapped his arms around his neck. “Where are you going?”

“To get a drink.”

“I’ll get it. You come this way.” Covering Evan’s eyes with both hands, Jesse pressed his body against him to get him to walk forward.

Evan stumbled. “What are you doing? I can’t see.”

“That’s the point.” Jesse bumped his hips against Evan’s butt. “Get moving.”

Evan stepped forward, trusting Jesse to steer him through the house.

They reached the French doors in the music room, and Jesse stopped him. “Keep your eyes closed.”

“Yes, dear,” Evan snickered.

Jesse stepped around him, squinted at him to make sure he wasn’t peeking, then opened the doors and took Evan’s hands to pull him through. “You can open them.”

Evan opened his eyes and stared. The candles flickered with soft yellow light against the dark, the scent of roses drifted with the breeze, the violins sounded through the night. Jesse led him to the table and pulled out a chair. Evan sat, blinking at him in shock.

“I’ll be right back,” Jesse said, and darted into the house.

Evan gazed around the backyard, emotion filling him that Jesse had gone through such effort. When he heard Jesse’s golden tenor singing “Happy Birthday,” his eyes widened at the sight of the cake glowing with twenty-seven candles. Jesse placed the cake before him as he finished and dragged a chair closer.

“Well that was the best sounding ‘Happy Birthday’ song ever sung to me.” Evan looked down at the patched cake, which dipped in the middle. “Did you make this?”