Page 48 of The Butler

As we walked toward the sheet-metal-sided monstrosity, it appeared even larger if that was possible. The huge doors were only partially separated so I couldn’t see inside. The damn structure could have held the entire fleet of NASA shuttles from the size of it.

“My plane is in there?” I asked. Bob walked alongside me but was quiet. He didn’t answer and I didn’t ask again. Through the approximately three-foot-wide space in the at a minimum one-hundred-foot-tall door it was dark. Bob stepped inside while I hesitated to join him. A loud electrical sound of industrial lighting turning on startled me and I peeked inside before entering.

The building was so large that at first I hadn’t noticed a good-sized private jet parked to the left toward the back of the interior. Other than the one jet and an assorted amount of four-wheeled aircraft equipment sitting around the hangar was empty. The idea of its size from outside was nothing compared to how cavernous it felt when I was inside and looking around. The ceiling was a minimum of ten stories above me and I wondered how the roof was supported. The plane at the back was still hard to see since my eyes slowly adjusted to the quick change of lighting. For some reason the lights above the jet were not on.

I heard a door close and quickly looked to my right. Bob was gone and I assumed he had left via the normal-sized door fifty or so feet away. How he’d managed to depart without me hearing him added to my overall uneasy feeling about the situation. I stood alone at the entrance and allowed my eyes more time to adjust and recover the ability to look deeper into the space. Another halogen light exploded to life and illuminated the private jet that was a football length away from me.

The first thing I spotted were dozens and dozens of red roses in vases on the concrete floor. The display created a walkway of sorts between the two rows of flower arrangements. There had to have been thirty or more vases per side, each holding at least two dozen long-stemmed roses. The flowered walkway was stunning. As I walked closer, crossing the smooth concrete floor I saw that there was a metal stand similar to one used to hold sheet music. When I took steps toward the stand, I looked around the giant space for any signs of people. No other people were in sight. This had to be for me. There was an envelope on the stand that read, ‘Formal Agreement’. I reached for it and opened the official-looking envelope.

Dear Deklyn,

This agreement is not a contract. It has no terminology that guarantees either of us anything. In fact, my lawyers would highly recommend that I not enter into such an agreement. They prefer guarantees and promising returns on my investments. The return I wish for isn’t measured using their terms.

However, I have decided to throw business caution to the wind and think with my heart instead. Boring contracts and all the mumbo-jumbo legalese that go with them have become mundane to me. There has never been a contract signed by me that brought me any real pleasure or ever enough money. I’m always left wanting more. I’ve begun to realize that what I really desire has nothing to do with wealth acquisition.

With you as the intended person that I wish to enter into a non-agreement with, I think that could all change. My feelings about the two parties, hopefully known as us, could lead to a lifetime of success in my opinion.

Will you please consider extending our previous arrangement? Can you see any value in giving a heartbroken man an open-ended extension and another shot?

I’m good at creating value and feel that this joint venture could bring us much success. It would also be my first endeavor that was solely created for mutual benefit. When the financial statements are delivered, perhaps its true success could be measured in love instead of dollars?

I’m even willing to be joint CEOs. Will you join me, Mr. Dalton?

Lincoln Carrington

My hand holding the letter dropped to my side when the first tear etched its way down my face. I turned toward the plane and watched as the door popped open and the stairwell came to a rest on the concrete. A very handsome business man stepped out carrying another vase of roses and a pen.

We met halfway and Linc handed me the pen. “I’m in love with you, Mr. Dalton. Do we have an agreement?” he asked.

“Normally I’d have to consult my attorneys, but I don’t have any of those,” I managed to choke out.

“Can you take that kind of risk and sign it anyway?” he asked.

“I can’t take the risk of not signing it, sir, because I love you too.”

EPILOGUE: Deklyn

Two Years Later

Linc and I were knew that just because we had had an insane attraction to one another, jumping head first into a relationship wouldn’t be wise. We’d both been hurt by others and those wounds tend to stick around longer than we wish they would. That is the nature of the heart. However, the heart also had the capacity to heal from heartbreak and make room for a new love, a new chance, even if that opportunity came with risks as well.

After he surprised me at the airport, Linc had whisked me off to the big island in Hawaii and to a family home he’d inherited. We spent an entire month bonding. Of course, there was plenty of body exploring and intense sessions of physical pleasure, but the time was also spent discovering things about one another that two weeks on a yacht couldn’t have provided enough time for. With no distractions we used the closeness to expose deep inner feelings and learn about the things that we’d wanted from life.

Much like me, Linc had spent the past three to four years invested in someone that he’d thought was his future. Also like me, he was busy with his companies the same way that I had been busy with my degree. Both of us had tried to manage those relationships while expending a lot of energy on other goals. He confessed that perhaps he had left Troy alone too many times and that he could have done a much better job of focusing the same exhaustive energy he put into work into his relationship. Ultimately, he admitted he contributed to Troy ditching him.

I had allowed myself to be taken care of and provided for, putting my needs secondary to a man that liked the convenience of a fresh start every three years. I’d willingly sacrificed those three years because I had yearned for the guidance and love from an older man, not once asking any questions about where we were going. I never checked in on the future and the end came at a surprisingly early expiration date.

We both decided that there were things we could do to strengthen our relationship beyond the wild attraction and insane sexual match we were. One of those things was for us to live separately at first. Linc would be forced to court me in a more traditional way. He’d agreed to carve time out from his busy life and choose me as his priority, while I chose to find my financial footingwithout his assistancebefore we shared a home. I needed to feel like he was invested in us and not just his wealth accumulation. He needed to see me as a separate person, one that didn’t rely on his money, and I knew that was key to one day merging our lives.

Was it easy? Of course not. It took time for us to adjust to a Saturday date night in my studio apartment watching old DVDs because I couldn’t afford a Netflix membership and eating pasta and canned sauce because that was in my budget. Then the very next weekend we’d be at his Malibu home or jetting to a fabulous hotel in a gorgeous city where he’d spoil me rotten. His lifestyle had its wrinkles and benefits and so did mine.

Before long the natural merging of lifestyles became evident. Linc tired of the extravagant vacations and endless shopping that he’d used to pass his down time. He’d begun to prefer the quiet,broke, stay-in nights of my tiny space. I think we knew we were compatible when he began bringing groceries to my place and fixing us budget meals himself. The inexpensive meals were a challenge to create and Linc liked a challenge more than anything. Our nights were silly and romantic, but they were also the tonic that he needed to let his worries about being loved for his money slip away. He knew I didn’t want or need his wealth to love him. I was used to struggling.

After a year of this arrangement where I used my education to freelance jobs and make my own way, even treating Linc to weekends away, I was ready to further my education and decided to pursue my master’s degree. Due to the proximity of Linc’s estate in Malibu to the college I chose to attend, we decided that we wanted to live together full time. I had conditions though and he’d reluctantly agreed to them because he wanted me to feel independent of his money and liked that I had a voice in our relationship. I also knew that for him, seeing me as my own man, would add to the level of respect I knew I needed to thrive with a man who had it all.

Our second year was about carving out our roles in this amazing world we were creating together. I was confident that my choice in Linc had been wise and that he truly was in our relationship for the long haul. My show of love and support convinced him that I could balance a life of making my own way and also being a part of his world. I’d turned down his offer to work for his company and I kept my opinions about his professional choices to myself. That was his and Bob’s responsibility, not mine. Over time Bob began to see the asset that I had become for his boss and best friend.

I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do once I had my master’s degree but I was invested in my future because of the solid foundation I had with a man that loved me. He came with ridiculous privilege and that could certainly be a bit much at times, but Linc had a kind soul and was generous with his prosperity. I believed his true wealth was his ability to love and that he had been underestimated in that department. Living with all the trappings of obscene accumulation would certainly blind people to seeing who you were beyond those extravagances, but he was managing to reveal who he really was and I was the recipient of that discovery, making me the true billionaire. We loved each other and I knew we could trust that love.

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