Read Online When You Don't See Me by Timothy James Beck - Free Book Online Page A

his hand and said, “Okay. I get the picture.” He thought for a minute, looked me up and down, then said, “William, I won’t call your boss. Your friend Deshaun and I have an arrangement, and since you’re filling in, maybe you’d like to fill in on that end, too.”
    â€œWhat end?” I asked, willing my eyes not to look at his pearlike butt.
    â€œI run a company. Videos.”
    Of course you do, I thought.
    â€œSometimes I direct. What do you say I set up my camera, turn it on, lie on this bed, and you and I—”
    â€œI don’t think so,” I interrupted. Then I remembered the gun and added, “No, thank you.”
    â€œYou’re sure? I’d pay you. Two thousand. Five, if you let me screw you.”
    I didn’t really know Deshaun, or where he lived, but I wanted to find out immediately so I could smack him around.
    â€œReally, no. Thanks anyway,” I said and turned to leave.
    â€œThen I have no choice but to speak to your boss and tell him what I caught you doing,” Parker D. Brooks called after me. He spoke in a singsong tone, as if that somehow made it okay to blackmail me.
    â€œOkay,” I answered. “‘Bye.”
    I barely realized that I rode down in the elevator. I felt like ants were crawling up my arm. I remembered having the same creepy feeling after I was mugged. The helplessness, fear, and nervousness that lingered after the fact. At least that time the only thing taken from me was twenty dollars. This time, I was going to lose my job. I hadn’t asked to be mugged, but I’d pretty much begged to be fired. Why did I try on his clothes? Why did I look through his drawers? What was I thinking? Rent was due again soon. So was the ConEd bill. Would I have enough to cover that? Would giving Parker D. Brooks a blow job really be so bad? How long could that take? A half hour?
    The doors opened at the lobby and a woman got in the elevator with me. Seconds later, when I realized she’d asked me something, I said, “Huh?”
    â€œI asked which floor you want.”
    â€œPenthouse.”
    â€œReally? You don’t live here, do you?”
    â€œI’m the maid,” I said. She smiled and nodded. What else could I be doing there? I added, “I was about to go home for the day, when it dawned on me that I forgot to give the master his blow job. Silly me, huh?”
    â€œGross!” she exclaimed. When we reached her floor, she said, “Next time, use the service elevator.”
    As the doors were closing, I said, “Good idea. We haven’t done it in there yet.”
    After I rang Parker D. Brooks’s doorbell, I tried to pretend I was somebody else. An escort. But not all escorts put out, right? A gigolo would. But the word gigolo sounded stupid. Nobody talked like that anymore. I’d be a rent boy. A rent boy named—
    â€œWilliam?” Parker D. Brooks said when he opened the door. “What are you doing back here? I thought you left in a snit.”
    â€œNo. I left in a huff. I came back on the elevator. Can I come in?”
    â€œNo,” he said. “Why would you want to?”
    â€œI changed my mind,” I said. Although I still wasn’t sure. I felt icky.
    â€œSo have I. Get out of this building, or I’ll call security. I already phoned your boss. If you give me your home number, I’ll call your parents, too.”
    Â 
    I felt sick the rest of the day. I went to my last client’s apartment and tried to lose myself in work. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what I almost did. Was that what life was all about? Money? Greed? Blow jobs?
    I cleaned the toilet relentlessly because I kept seeing Parker D. Brooks’s face in the bowl. No matter how many times I tried, the scrubbing bubbles wouldn’t take him away so I wouldn’t have to.
    My cell phone began to vibrate against my leg while I was walking home. I answered it by saying,