“Like what? They’re just simple cabins, aren’t they?”
“Oh, no, my boy. That’s where you’re wrong. Here, I’ll show you.” He gestured at me. “Let’s see the elevation sketches.”
He nitpicked the designs and made suggestions. Most of them were stylistic, but a few were actual improvements. I dutifully made notes. Then, much to my surprise, he gave me some practical, constructive advice about the clubhouse design. His firm in Miami had designed a vacation resort, he explained at length.
I tried to wrap things up at that point, but Granville wasn’t ready to give up his captive audience. He asked Carter about Charlotte, and they spent another fifteen minutes talking about how much it had changed in the years since Granville had lived there. Beatrice, his housekeeper, eventually came to our rescue. She asked if we were staying for lunch, which was our cue to decline (regretfully) and make our escape.
“Thanks for your help back there,” I told Carter after we left.
“No problem. The senior partner in my firm is like that. I’ve learned to humor him. His mind’s as sharp as ever, but he’s a longwinded bore most days. A serious rainmaker, though, and good for my career. He’s drinking buddies with half the judges and most of the big money clients in town.”
“The good ol’ boy network.”
“Right. Is architecture like that?”
“Not really,” I said. “Thank God.”
“Lucky for you. I’m making the right connections, but I’m young, and it takes years.”
“If it were easy, everyone would do it.”
“No kidding!” he laughed. “Okay, I’m ready for lunch. Christy mentioned the place you ate?”
“Yeah, it’s in town. Take a right at the main road.”
Carter wasn’t blown away by the drugstore. The lunch counter was basic meat and three fare, hearty and well-cooked, but not quite fancy enough for his palate. He enjoyed it well enough, though, especially the pie. And he eyed the old-fashioned soda fountain with interest. Still, the place probably wouldn’t make his list of top ten restaurants. Maybe not even the top hundred.
The liquor store was a different story, and he was surprised by the selection of wines. He quickly replaced everything we’d drunk over the past couple of days and then talked to the owner for fifteen or twenty minutes. Together, they filled a case with wine for Carter to try at home. As a parting gift, the man sold him the two remaining bottles of Old Rip Van Winkle, which he’d been saving for “a particular friend.”
I privately wondered if they’d been for Granville. Then again, maybe it had been a subtle come-on, to let Carter know he was gay and interested. I was probably reading too much into it, but Carter missed it completely. He was so straight that it never occurred to him that another man might want to have sex with him. I smiled indulgently and congratulated myself for being so enlightened. Then I thought of Sara’s reaction to that, and my ego deflated to peals of imaginary laughter.
“What’s that guy doing here?” Carter wondered as we drove away. “In such a small town?”
“He grew up here.”
“He’s wasting his talent. He could be a sommelier in any restaurant in Charlotte, maybe even New York City.”
“He might like the slower pace here.”
Carter snorted but didn’t argue. He was a snob all right, but I understood his point. And I had to admit that part of me agreed with him. I couldn’t imagine life in a sleepy little town in South Carolina. I didn’t want the hustle and bustle of New York City, or the cookie-cutter sprawl of Los Angeles, but I was still a city boy.
“You mind if I open ’er up on the way back to camp?” Carter asked. “I’ve only had the car a couple of months, and I don’t get the chance to really do it at home.”
“Fine by me.”
“They have a school in Florida that teaches rally driving. Maybe you and I could go. We could take the girls, and they’ll keep each other company.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I agreed. He was already talking about group vacations? I didn’t know whether to be excited or alarmed. What happened to cautious Carter?
He read me perfectly. “I don’t mean now,” he laughed. “Once we get to know each other better. Although, we know each other pretty well now. And we’re planning to share the girls.”
“Let’s see how that goes first.”
“Right. Totally agree. And if it works out, we can plan something else.”
“Yeah. In the meantime…” I leaned toward him and made a show of looking at the speedometer. “Fifty? My grandmother drives faster.”
“Ha! Hold on.”
I gripped the door handle, just in case. Carter downshifted, floored it, and I was glad I had.
* * *
The girls were sunbathing when we returned. They were lying on their stomachs facing away from us, and their skin glistened with a light coating of oil. The afternoon sun fell across them, and they shone like bronze goddesses.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing that for the rest of my life,” Carter said.
I silently agreed.
“I feel almost guilty that I want kids,” he added. “It’s a shame to do that to a body like Kim’s.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I mused. “You’ve met my mother.”
“Very pretty,” he agreed.
“And Christy’s mother had six kids. She’s prettier now than she was before.”
“Good genes.”
“Kim’s no ugly duckling,” I chuckled.
“Right. And her mother’s still pretty. She’s just a little thicker around the middle than I like.”
I shrugged philosophically. “Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder. And by the time Kim’s her mother’s age, you’ll be thicker around the middle too. Besides, she’ll be the mother of your children, and you’ll love her for different reasons than her body.”
“You’re probably right,” he admitted. Then he shot me a grin. “Are you sure you’re only twenty-one?”
“Pretty sure. Come on, let’s unload. Then I wanna cool off.”
“And get your rocks off?” He chuckled. “Sorry, it’s all I’ve been thinking about since our talk. I’m dying to watch you fuck Kim and give her a good workout. I’ve trained her well, but this is the big test.”
“I’m sure she’ll pass with flying colors.”
“I’m sure too. She’s really excited. She wanted to do it last night, but…” He shrugged. “Just me being overly cautious.”
“Any last-minute worries?” I asked.
“None that I can think of. Besides, I can’t wait to see what Christy’s like. If she’s as submissive as you say, I think I’m going to enjoy myself. And, if I’m being honest, I don’t even care about fucking her. Not after one of her blowjobs. Besides, her little body is made for a firm hand. With your permission, of course.”
“Use her, abuse her, make her write bad checks,” I joked. “No wait, her father’d kill me if she bounces any more checks. Maybe just use and abuse her.”
“My pleasure.”
The girls must have been dozing, because they didn’t move as Carter and I unloaded the wine and carried it into the clubhouse.
“Oh, hell,” he said all of a sudden.
“What?”
“The grocery store! I wanted to go while we were in town, but I was so excited that I completely forgot.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But I wanted to make something special for dinner. It’s our last night…”
“How about cock au vin with cream sauce?”
“What? That’s disgusting. Cream sauce with wi— Ah, I get it. No, thank you.”
“Wiener schnitzel and semen-kraut?”
“God, no! Fermented ‘come cabbage’? Are you insane?”
“No, just having fun. Tube steak? Frank and beans? Sausage and gravy?”
“Objection! Badgering the witness.”
“You’re mixing metaphors,” I shot back. “Say something chef-y.”
“I can’t! You’re quicker than I am.” He laughed. “I have to rehearse my arguments.”
“Yeah, all right, I’ll let you off easy this time.”