You Can't Make This Sh*t Up

By GA Hauser

Two straight dudes in competition for the same woman, end up trapped together.
In a world where truth is more bizarre than fiction, Albert Lane and his arch rival, Douglas Jefferies, can’t believe what happens next.

You can’t make this sh*t up...but in reality, you can.

Enjoy this new twist on an old trope-
‘Enemies’ becoming a lot more than just ‘good friends.’
(A ‘first-touch’ gay romance story.) #firsttouch

• Language: English
• Publisher: GA Hauser
• Release date: Jul 9, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463983270

GA Hauser

About the AuthorAuthor G.A. Hauser is from Fair Lawn, New Jersey, USA. She attended university at The Fashion Institute of Technology in NYC, and has a BA in Fine Art from William Paterson College in Wayne NJ where she graduated Cum Laude. As well as degrees in art, G.A. is a Graduate Gemologist from the Gemological Institute of America (GIA). In 1994 G.A. graduated the Washington State Police academy as a Peace Officer for the Seattle Police Department in Washington where she worked on the patrol division. She was awarded Officer of the Month in February 2000 for her work with recovering stolen vehicles and fingerprint matches to auto-theft and bank robbery suspects. After working for the Seattle Police, G.A. moved to Hertfordshire, England where she began to write full length gay romance novels. Now a full-time writer, G.A. has penned over 200 novels and short stories. Breaking into independent film, G. A. was the executive producer for her first feature film, CAPITAL GAMES which included TV star Shane Keough in its cast. CAPITAL GAMES had its Film Festival Premiere at Philly's Qfest, and its television premiere on OutTV. G.A. is the director and executive producer for her second film NAKED DRAGON, which is an interracial gay police/FBI drama filmed in Los Angeles with the outstanding cinematographer, Pete Borosh. (also the Cinematographer for Capital Games)The cover photographs of G.A.'s novels have been selected from talented and prolific photographers such as Dennis Dean, Dan Skinner, Michael Stokes, Tuta Veloso, Hans Withoos, and CJC Photography, as well as graphic comic artist, Arlen Schumer. Her cover designs have featured actors Chris Salvatore, Jeffery Patrick Olson, Tom Wolfe, and models Brian James Bradley, Bryan Feiss, Jimmy Thomas, Andre Flagger, among many others.Her advertisements have been printed in Attitude Magazine, LA Frontier, and Gay Times.G. A. has won awards from All Romance eBooks for Best Author 2009, Best Novel 2008, Mile High, Best Author 2008, Best Novel 2007, Secrets and Misdemeanors, and Best Author 2007.G.A. was the guest speaker at the SLA conference in San Diego, in 2013, where she discussed women writing gay erotica and has attended numerous writers’ conventions across the country.

Book preview

YOU CAN’T MAKE THIS SH*T UP

By

G.A.HAUSER

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2018

YOU CAN’T MAKE THIS SH*T UP

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2018

ISBN Trade paperback: 978-1985-2414-9-7

© The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WARNING

This book contains material that maybe offensive to some: graphic language, homosexual relations, adult situations. Please store your books carefully where they cannot be accessed by underage readers.

First The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC publication:

April 2018

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Chapter 1

Albert Lane loosened the knot in his necktie. Seated at his desk in a high-rise office building, Albert took a break from his work for the finance company. He rubbed his eyes, since they felt like sandpaper from the blowing air vents near his desk.

Standing, Albert leaned against the plate glass windows, staring at the skyline of Los Angeles’ smoggy horizon. The surface was cool to the touch. His gaze sweeping over the panoramic view, Albert was glad it was Friday.

While he thought about it, he picked up his phone to send a text, ‘We’re still on for tonight, right?’

He knew Maria was connected to her phone. Most of the twenty-something’s he’d met were.

‘Can I let you know?’ she sent back.

What? He thought they had a confirmed date. He’d made dinner reservations with Maria days ago. ‘What’s up?’

‘I’ll get back to you.’

‘The reservations are for seven.’

‘OK’

Albert had a feeling he knew why she was waffling.

Douglas Jeffries, that’s why.

He wanted to tell her to fuck off. But…He was a sore loser, and letting his woman leave him for a man like Douglas Jeffries was a blow to his ego.

Whatever. He sat back down at his desk and continued his work.

By five o’clock, Albert shut down his computer and scooted back from his desk. He still hadn’t heard from Maria, and was the kind of conscientious man to either make it to the restaurant, or cancel his reservations. Simply being a no-show wasn’t his style.

He sent Maria yet another text. ‘Am I picking you up?’

‘Yes.’

Was that so fucking hard to do? He stuffed his phone into his pocket and buttoned his suit jacket. Now in a foul mood, Albert left the office and headed to the parking garage. Car engines starting echoed under the low ceiling. The mass exodus had occurred, employees set free for a weekend.

He stood by his white Nissan GT-R and removed his suit jacket, folding it and taking a seat in the powerful car.

The music blasting, vibrating the speakers, Albert backed up and headed to his Holmby Hills residence on West Sunset Boulevard.

As he thought about his date tonight, he battled negative thoughts.

When he had met Maria Seymour, he had become enamored with her. Who didn’t? She was a lingerie model whose father was worth a mint.

Every dog in LA was sniffing at her high stiletto heels.

Albert became impatient with the heavy traffic, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and shifting gears, working the clutch.

He glanced into the rearview mirror at his green eyes and ran his fingers over his brown hair.

Stop, go, stop, go.

He huffed in frustration and cut into the HOV lane even though he did not qualify. He flew down the open gap until it too, became a congested mess. Before he got a hefty citation, he forced his way back into the snarl and then merged to an exit ramp.

Finally making it home, Albert shifted into first gear as he waited for his garage to roll up, then parked his car. He exited it, taking his jacket, and before he went inside, he removed his mail out of the box. It was a pile of fliers, requests for charity donations, and real estate agents who promised him ‘top dollar’ for the sale of his home. In other words, complete crap.

He tossed the pile on his kitchen counter and loosened his necktie.

The traffic had been so heavy, it took him nearly an hour to get home.

Albert didn’t have time to do more than shower, shave, and change clothing before he headed out to pick Maria up.

Albert pulled his car in front of a mansion in Beverly Hills. He shut off the engine and climbed out, walking to the grand, columned front entrance of the home. A gold Rolls Royce and a silver BMW were parked out front, gleaming in the spotlights.

Albert straightened his sports-coat and ran his hand over his conservatively cropped brown hair. He rang the bell and cleared his throat.

A servant answered.

I’m here to see Maria.

Yes. She’s expecting you.

Albert stepped into the foyer, one with a sixteen foot ceiling and polished marble floor.

He heard laughter coming from down the hall, and followed the servant.

Maria was there, her raven hair flowing down her bare shoulders, as she wore a strapless red dress and spiked heels.

Seeing her beauty made him smile. Before he greeted her, he found two men in the room, drinking martinis, enjoying themselves.

Maria’s father, Tucker Seymour, and…

Douglas Jeffries.

Albert’s smile fell.

Albert, Maria said, holding a martini glass while she laughed, Doug has just told Daddy and I about his latest adventure.

Those devilish blue eyes found him in the room. Douglas was ridiculously handsome. So handsome, he made Albert uncomfortable.

Hello, Albert, as he spoke, Tucker reached out his hand.

Mr Seymour. Albert received the firm clasp.

Would you care for a cocktail? Tucker asked.

Seeing Douglas staring at him, Albert lost his train of thought. Uh. Maria and I have dinner reservations. He should reach out to greet Douglas to be civil, he just couldn’t force himself to do it. This rapscallion was after his gal.

We have time, Maria said, scolding, which embarrassed him.

No. They did not have time. Not if they wanted to get to the restaurant by seven.

Maria floated over to Douglas on her strappy-red high-heels. Tell Albert about the Sherpa in Nepal that you met. It’s a hoot.

He was remarkable. He was the only survivor left of an avalanche that claimed ten climbers.

Yeah, Albert said sarcastically, That’s a hoot. He turned to Maria. Can we go?

Maria sipped her cocktail down to the bottom.

Albert checked his watch. When he looked up, Douglas had his arm around Maria and was kissing her neck while she giggled.

Tucker appeared oblivious to the drama, filling his cocktail glass with more of the martini mixture and two olives.

Maria gave Douglas a playful whack and was released from his clutches. Let me get my purse. She left the room.

Albert glared at Douglas. He wanted to slap him.

Where are you two going? Tucker sipped his martini.

Uh… Albert battled to keep focused. He was hungry, tired, and frustrated with having to deal with Douglas making the ‘moves’ on Maria constantly.

Uh? Douglas mocked him. Is that a new hot spot? Uh-Sushi?

Fuck you! Albert clenched his jaw. The…uh…the… God! Think! What’s the name of the restaurant, you moron!

Douglas snickered at his ‘brain-fart’ and drew Tucker into a conversation about buying property at an auction.

Albert? Maria called from the hallway, wearing her coat and holding her purse.

Nice seeing you again, Mr Seymour. Albert felt as if he were interrupting, but didn’t want to leave without being civil.

Douglas made sure Tucker was too distracted to reply.

Albert walked towards Maria. Right before he left with her he remembered. He said into the room, Il Pastaio.

Both men looked at him as if he were crazy, and didn’t regard him.

Albert? Maria called to him curiously.

He opened the front door for her and escorted her to his car, also opening that door for her as well. Her fabulous long legs distracted him for a moment as he waited to shut the door. He walked around his car and sat down, unbuttoning the sports-coat and starting the car.

Maria took her phone out of a small gold clutch purse and read a message she’d missed.

What’s he doing here? Albert asked, tolerating her connection to her phone, since she was glued to it on a regular basis.

He’s discussing some real estate purchases with my father. She sent a text and then looked up as they drove to the restaurant.

I don’t like it. Albert rested his hand on the gear shift.

Don’t be possessive. It’s unappealing.

Are you sleeping with him? Albert slowed for a red traffic signal lined with cars on this busy Friday night.

She made a noise in her throat and read her phone.

He almost added, because you’re not sleeping with me.

She may be a lingerie model, she may be gorgeous, but, she wasn’t easy.

With her attention on her phone, Albert shut up. They’d been on four dates. He was struggling to keep her interested and not happy she was hanging around with a man like Douglas Jeffries.

Douglas was the ultimate playboy; never seemed to work, had a ton of cash, and enjoyed the jet-setting scene.

He was the kind of celebrity that was photographed in trashy magazines, always on the arm of a starlet or model, yet, for the life of him, Albert had no clue what the rogue did for a living.

Rumor was, he was an heir to a fortune.

He didn’t give a shit about the guy, he just wasn’t keen on the competition.

Albert pulled up to the valet in front of the restaurant. He exited his car, leaving it running, and waited as the valet opened the car door for Maria.

She looked like she was strutting the catwalk or a beauty pageant, her thick black hair flowing over her gold mid-length coat.

His insecurity of not actually being in a committed relationship with her, gnawed at him. Albert hooked her elbow and walked to the entrance, avoiding the chaos of the patio dining. He took charge, making his way to the hostess. We’ve a reservation, Albert Lane.

Yes. She found his name. Would you like indoor or outdoor seating?

Indoor. He glanced at Maria but her face was in her phone, as usual.

Right this way.

The aroma of roasted garlic and meat was in the air, making his mouth water. He gestured for Maria to go first, and as he followed her he noticed every man in the area spot her, and drool.

Albert pulled a chair out for her, and she sat down, placing her purse on a chair beside her with her coat.

They were given menus. Someone will be by for your drink order.

Thanks. He took a seat across from her, seeing her phone right beside her place setting. He cleared his throat and picked up the wine menu. What are you in the mood for?

Her phone chimed again. She leaned over it to read and chuckled.

Maria?

Yes? Her eyes were large, doe-eyes, with pitch-black lashes.

Can you put that away? He gestured to her phone.

She turned it face down and didn’t read it.

Do you want wine?

I’d prefer a cocktail.

A server placed bread on the table. Can I offer you a drink or a bottle of wine?

A martini, please. Maria peeked at her phone.

And you, sir?

Uh. He became distracted by her. Just water.

Sparkling or still?

Still.

The server rattled off the specials and left.

Who are you texting? Albert kept his voice calm but was about to blow a wad of cash on this meal. He wouldn’t mind her attention.

Doug is sending me jokes. He’s insane. She smiled, her white teeth glowing between red ruby lips.

Doug? His back tensed. Doug is texting you?

Don’t be jealous. She laughed.

Are you seeing him as well as me?

Huh? She became distracted by the phone and sent another text.

Maria?

The waiter brought a cocktail and a bottle of water to the table. May I get you a starter while you decide?

Albert read the menu. Maria, do you want to share the appetizers?

She was reading her phone again.

Maria?

Anything you want, Albert.

He exhaled in exasperation and said, The Parma ham and the grilled vegetables.

Good choice. The server left.

Maria!

What? She narrowed her eyes at him and then put her phone down, picking up her martini. "Mm, that’s good.

He inspected her red manicured nails and gold jewelry. So. How was your day? He was desperate to change the topic and his lousy mood.

Good. Oh. My cousin is getting married on Sunday.

He nodded, listening, reading the dinner selections.

Would you like to come with me? It’s fancy. It’s at the Waldorf.

Really? Albert pulled apart a roll and buttered it. He was so hungry he was getting a headache.

I was going to go on my own, but, it’ll be fun to go with you. She ate an olive off the toothpick from her martini.

I’d love to go. The last thing he wanted was for her to invite someone else.

Do you have a tux? She finished the drink.

I do. He chewed the soft roll.

Good. She smiled at him.

His bad mood melted away at her pretty face. Good.

Finally full, sated, and less angry, Albert wiped his mouth on his cloth napkin and then took another morsel from Maria’s plate. She had ordered risotto but didn’t eat much of it. It was fantastic. If he wasn’t so full from his chicken dish, he’d eat it as well.

Can I get you anything for dessert? The server began clearing plates.

Nothing for me, Maria replied, smiling.

I’m fine. Everything was great.

Very good. I’ll bring you the bill.

Albert gave Maria his attention. What are your plans for tomorrow?

She took a compact out of her purse and checked her face. I’ve got a photo-shoot for the lingerie company.

He waited for her to tuck her compact away and then tried to hold her hand over the table.

She gave it to him with a smile.

He kissed her fingers. And after that?

I don’t know. She leaned closer, sexy as hell.

How are we working the transportation to the wedding? He caressed her delicate fingers.

I’ll find out. We’re taking a limousine. I’m sure we can pick you up.

Just let me know.

The waiter brought the bill, so he released her hand and took it, reading it, and giving it back with his credit card.

We’re expected at the hotel at eleven. They’re not having a church wedding. It’s all going to take place at the hotel.

Okay. Am I getting a gift? He wanted her hand again but it seemed awkward this time to reach for it.

No. We have it all taken care of. She shifted in her chair. Let me just go to the powder room.

Of course. He stood politely until she walked off.

Once more, every man in the room watched her go. Some so blatantly, their wives smacked them on the arm.

He relaxed in the chair, content, and signed the credit card slip when it showed up, taking his card and the receipt.

He wanted to get laid.

He waited.

And waited.

What the fuck?

Since her coat was here, he didn’t panic. When he spotted her again, she was laughing with a young man, who had obviously engaged her in a conversation.

Snarling, Albert stood up