Read Online I'm Your Man by Timothy James Beck - Free Book Online Page A

Most of them are my friends. You wouldn’t even know them if it wasn’t for me.”
    We were off and running for hours, rehashing every other argument we’d ever had about our friends, our living arrangements, our busy schedules, and our future. By the time I slammed out of his apartment, we both knew we’d said things we shouldn’t have, things that couldn’t be taken back.
    I didn’t care what he told our friends. Or his friends, as he’d pointed out to me, insisting that my life consisted of little more than my job, my business acquaintances, my gym, and my tendency to live through him. I resolved to keep my mouth shut, especially to Sheila. I was sick of performing the Blaine and Daniel Show for an audience. I’d always tried to have a real relationship with him, not some gay version of Secret Splendor, and I had no intention of turning it into a melodrama just because it was over.
    â€œDo you have any idea how much tension you’re holding in your jaw?” Gavin asked. “You obviously work out. Do you have a trainer? Because he—or she—could recommend some exercises or body work that would help bring down your stress level.”
    â€œI don’t have a trainer,” I said.
    â€œMaybe you should. Where do you live?”
    â€œNew York. Manhattan.”
    â€œOh, God, I miss Manhattan. I know a couple of people I could recommend, if you’re interested in working with someone. You should take better care of yourself. What do you do?”
    â€œI’m in advertising.”
    â€œReally? Maybe you’ve heard of my old boss. Lowell Davenport.”
    â€œOf course. He was a Madison Avenue legend. You worked for him? What did you do?”
    â€œI started as his trainer,” Gavin said. “By the time he died, I guess I was just about everything to him. It was a big scandal that he had AIDS. A lot of his old friends and colleagues abandoned him. You’d think, as gay men, we’d be beyond that after two decades, but advertising’s a cutthroat world. No wonder you’re so tense.”
    Gavin’s gaydar was apparently more finely tuned than mine, since he assumed I was gay and I’d had no idea he was.
    â€œI never met Lowell,” I said, “but he was one of the people I studied. He reinvented advertising in the seventies. What kind of person was he?”
    â€œHe was a class act. I adored him. I helped him as he deteriorated physically. Cooked for him. Took care of whatever needs he had. He jokingly called me his manservant, but we were really friends, especially at the end. He took care of me, too. His fortune was pretty well depleted, but he left me the money that helped me set up my practice. But I was so tired of people dying. Sometimes you just want to run away, you know?”
    â€œYeah, I know.”
    â€œMy family is here. Outside Baltimore. So I came home. But now that time has passed, I find myself wishing I was back in Manhattan. It’s just so expensive to live there.”
    â€œYou’re really good. I probably seemed to be a million miles away, but it’s because for the first time I felt relaxed enough to think about things I’ve been avoiding.”
    â€œYou’re going to be sore, in spite of the fact that you’re in great shape. You released a lot of tension. Drink twice as much water as you usually do. Add fresh papaya and pineapple to your diet. And do think about working with a trainer.”
    â€œYou’re hired,” I said, only half joking. Gavin laughed and handed me my robe. “Seriously, give me your card.” I, in turn, took one of my business cards from my wallet when I paid him. “If you fax me your references, and you’re genuinely interested in moving back to Manhattan, we can discuss it.”
    While Gavin took down his table, I thought it over. If Gavin sent me his references and they checked out, I could offer him a job similar to the