Nothing to Lose

By GA Hauser

In book 36 of the Action! Series, we find the men from LA ready to celebrate the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday at the posh mansion in Paradise.

Mark Antonious Richfield returns to the nighttime cable drama, Forever Young, to reunite with the stars for their final season.

Alexander Richfield and Stan Charles Richfield, attend their film premiere, Lover Boy, with disastrous results.

LAPD SWAT lieutenant Billy Sharpe is back on the front lines and Steven Jay Miller and his new husband, Tadzio Andresen, dive into work at Mark’s father’s company, Richfield-Miller International.

Top Model turned CEO, Mark Antonious Richfield hosts all of your favorite characters from the series in grand style as the extended families and friends socialize and new bonds are formed.
Nothing to Lose...as we chase happiness and hold onto true love and past lovers, we rely most on the people closest to us, to keep us sane.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GA Hauser
• Release date: Oct 29, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463575390

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

NOTHING TO LOSE

an Action! Series Book

By

G.A.HAUSER

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2018

NOTHING TO LOSE

Book 36 of the Action! Series

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2018

ISBN Trade paperback: 978-1726-7400-9-8

© 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:

November 2018

ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: PLEASE READ-

Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

WARNING:

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Chapter 1

Mark Antonious Richfield studied the blurry image on a screen on a portable monitor. He had flown to Los Angeles on his private jet from Sacramento. His husband, Stan, stood behind him, watching the video monitor over his shoulder.

That’s the baby’s heartbeat.

Mark couldn’t see anything clearly on the screen.

The doctor moved the ultrasound device over their surrogate Becca McKenna’s bump.

Where? Becca asked, lying prone on a paper-covered bed, her belly exposed and covered in gel.

The doctor pointed to the screen. Right there. That’s your baby’s head, and those are its toes.

Mark held up his hand. Don’t tell me the sex. Not yet.

Becca and Stan giggled at Mark.

The doctor smiled at him and set the wand aside, wiping off Becca’s belly. Everything looks just fine.

Mark was so nervous about this pregnancy he was shaking.

Becca sat up higher, drawing her shirt down her bump. I feel terrific.

Stan asked, So? A February baby?

Valentine’s Day! Becca laughed. That would be cool. She sat up, her legs dangling off the exam table.

The doctor wrote notes on a chart. When you’re ready, go ahead and schedule your next appointment.

Okay. Becca tugged on her brown ponytail and smiled.

The doctor left the room with her chart and Mark and Stan sat on the paper-covered table, framing Becca. Mark put his arm around her and gazed at her belly. My. There’s a person in there.

She laughed and rubbed it.

I’m going nuts. This is awesome. Stan held Becca’s hand.

It is weird. Wow. Like there’s an alien inside me.

Mark gestured to Becca’s midsection. May I?

She held Mark’s wrist and placed his palm over her domed tummy. I can feel it move, but the doc said others may not feel movements yet. They stayed quiet and still, waiting to feel something. Nope. Not there yet.

Then both of them jerked their heads up to stare into each other’s eyes.

Wait! Becca said, her mouth hanging open. Mark! Did you feel that?

Mark pressed his hand against Becca’s taut, warm skin and started to cry. Yes.

~

Stan caught Becca’s expression as Mark became emotional. They grinned at each other.

You mush-ball, she said to Mark.

Mark stopped touching her and dabbed at his eyes.

Stan took a deep breath to calm down, since he was very excited. He looked around the examination room, seeing photos of the stages of development for babies illustrated on posters, as well as plastic models. Pamphlets, questionnaires, and a plethora of information were available.

So far, Mark was okay with Becca working and living in LA while he and Mark worked and lived in Northern California.

Mark stood from the exam table and checked his phone.

Stan helped Becca to stand and she straightened her shirt and picked up her purse. I’ll talk to the doctor about my next appointment.

Okay. Stan waited as she opened the door. He pulled Mark into his arms. I’m so excited.

Mark gazed into Stan’s eyes. I’m terrified something will go wrong.

Nothing will go wrong.

Mark sighed loudly and then held Stan’s hand as they left the small room.

~

Carl Bronson sat on a stool near the set of his long-running, nighttime cable drama, Forever Young. A script in his hand, Carl read the lines for the scene he was going to rehearse. He had been hired to act as a romantic lead in another film; Nothing Like Romance. Since Forever Young was in its final season, Carl was very glad his movie career was advancing. In this next film, he was playing a straight lead. That astounded him.

Carl was ‘out’ and married to his costar, Keith O’Leary. He had better luck with his auditions for feature films than Keith did. He didn’t know why, but Keith struggled after one flop, a film called Lost which had been showcased at an independent film festival, and then sank on its theater release. Since then, Keith hadn’t been given another offer, although he had gone on many auditions.

He heard a clamor of excited voices in the hall. Carl glanced up from his notes to see Mark coming his way.

Mark was asked to star in the cable TV drama for its final season. Mark had been a guest in the very beginning of the show, so the producers thought it would be fun to end it with him as well.

Carl stood from the stool and waited as the cast and crew members from his as well as other TV shows shook hands, got autographs, and took selfies with the Nation’s Top Male Model, the Sexiest Man Alive, according to a weekly tabloid magazine.

Once Mark ran the gauntlet of fans, he made his approach.

Hullo, Carl, love.

Carl drew Mark into his arms and kissed his cheek. Mark’s cologne, Dangereux Red, or his pheromones, whatever it was, made him smell amazing. Carl went in for a deep sniff of Mark’s neck. Gorgeous as ever. Carl held Mark at arms’ length.

How are you? Mark moved his sunglasses to the top of his head.

"Good. A little sad about the end of Forever Young." Carl heard someone calling to Mark.

His husband returned from the men’s room. Hey! Keith laughed as he approached.

Hullo. Mark gave Keith a big smile and they embraced warmly. Here we are, back together again.

Dad! Dad!

~

Alexander Mark Richfield raced down the long studio corridor towards his father.

His nighttime cable TV drama was shot in the same building as Carl and Keith’s. He lunged for his dad and hugged him, swaying side to side.

Hullo, baby. Mark kissed his cheek.

Since his dad had moved north to Paradise, Alex missed him. Missed him so much. "Dad? Lover Boy is premiering Saturday night. Stan’s here, right?"

Yes. He’s in LA, but he’s off doing his own thing with Becca at the moment. Mark ran his hand through his hair. Where am I going? Mark looked towards the sets.

Before Keith and Carl took Mark to a dressing room, Alex clasped Mark’s hand and drew him aside.

One moment, Mark said, holding up his finger to the two stars.

Carl pointed to the studio. We’ll meet you. He and Keith walked off.

All right…Yes, Alex?

Are we going together? In the limo? Alex admired his dad’s outfit, his shimmering black designer slacks and silky black blouse, opened at the throat, a gold chai charm visible around his neck. His father’s taste was impeccable, and he always looked ‘model-ready’.

I don’t see why not.

Mark!

Alex spotted his director, Charlotte Deavers, approaching them.

Hullo, lovely. Mark gave her air kisses to both cheeks.

Let’s go. We have to get this shot in one day. Charlotte, her hair pinned up in a ponytail, wearing dark framed eyeglasses, holding a clipboard, a walkie-talkie on her hip, gestured for him to follow. Later, Alex! she said as she dragged Mark off.

Alex watched him go and missed him. So much. Dad? Dinner?

Yes. Text me. Mark held up his phone and was taken into a room with Charlotte.

Alex waited until he could no longer see him, then he sighed and headed to his own dressing room.

~

Steven Jay Miller tapped keys on his computer in his high-rise office at Richfield-Miller International. Having removed his suit jacket, loosened his shirt collar and tie, Steve tried to wrap up a purchase order before the coming weekend.

He glanced over his computer screen when his husband, former Swedish fashion model, Tadzio Andresen, stepped into the large room.

Tadzio, wearing a peach-colored tweed matching skirt and blazer, black pumps and a white crewneck blouse, held a stack of artwork.

His blond hair was left cascading down one shoulder in a French weave. Steven?

Yeah? Steve waited as Tadzio approached his desk.

I have narrowed the design. He looked for a place to drop the stack.

Steve shoved over files and gestured to his desk. Tadzio set the pile on them and looked at his hands before he touched his face. We have so many beautiful submissions for talent. Tadzio fanned through the renderings from students vying for a scholarship in fashion.

Steve rested his hand on the small of Tadzio’s back and took a look at the artwork.

Iz so hard to choose. So many talented young people.

Steve stopped inspecting the fashion designs and admired his husband instead. They were flying to LA this evening on the company jet, staying in Bel Air for the weekend, since Alexander had his movie premiere, and Mark was filming his guest role in the nighttime cable drama.

You decide. Steve ran his hand over Tadzio’s tight bottom.

Tadzio swiveled Steve’s chair to sit on his lap.

Steve sat back and allowed it, pulling Tadzio’s legs closer to himself. How you doin’, blondie? Steve kissed him.

I feel badly for the students I do not pick. He rested his arm around Steve’s neck and snuggled. Iz hard to pick one.

There’s no rush. Steve ran his hand under Tadzio’s skirt over his nylons.

I am excited to see the movie. Tadzio shifted on Steve’s lap, parting his knees as Steve moved his fingers closer to Tadzio’s groin. You think Mark will manage to sit through it?

Steve didn’t care. He nibbled Tadzio’s neck.

Steven?

Hmm? Steve inched his fingers higher on Tadzio’s thigh.

Iz it sad that I don’t want to leave the estate? I love it so much.

Me too. Steve managed to get his hand between Tadzio’s legs. He felt women’s lacy undies and a hard dick.

Why can’t Alec and Billy come more? Why do we have to come to LA all the time? I want them here.

Me too. Steve inhaled Tadzio’s perfume…perfume, not cologne. It was sweet, appetizing, like honey and vanilla.

Tadzio sighed and relaxed as Steve toyed with his cock gently, and they cuddled as the day ticked slowly by.

~

LAPD Lt Billy Sharpe stood at a cleaning station with his assault rifle. He had just finished practice, advanced tactical shooting, with the SWAT team. The rifle in parts, Billy inhaled the gun oil as he assembled the weapon and then loaded it.

His men were around him, doing the same after a grueling training exercise given by the department to keep the men’s skill level high.

He shouldered his rifle and then straightened up the area, tossing out cleaning rags and capping bottles of solvent.

Wearing his black fatigues, Billy rinsed his filthy hands at an outdoor basin and wiped his wet fingers on his cargo pants. He left the cleaning area and locked his rifle up in his exempt SUV, then leaned against the back of the rig to check his phone.

Mark had sent a text, ‘In LA. Are you free for dinner?’

‘yes. where. when.’

Nothing came back from the top model. Billy sent Stan a text, ‘Are you with Mark?’

‘No. He’s at the studio doing that scene for Forever Young. What’s up?’

‘He sent me a text about dinner.’ Billy looked up to his team approaching, grinning, covered in soot and dust. Happy campers.

‘Yes. He wants to see you and Alex. I assume we’ll either have everyone in Bel Air, or he’ll let you know if we go to a restaurant.’

‘okay.’ Billy pocketed his phone and took a look at his SWAT team. Yes, he may have had to resign as the Santa Monica Chief of Police, but…look where he was. Back where he belonged. He couldn’t be happier.

Yo. Sharpe. Manny Rodriguez asked as he tucked his rifle into the SUV, You up for a beer after?

Can’t. Have dinner plans. Billy took the SUV’s key out of his pocket as the men filled the back with equipment. He had driven three men to the training facility. There were three more SUV’s in their caravan.

What about a beer over the weekend? Bernie Brown patted Billy’s shoulder.

Not sure. Billy walked to the driver’s side and sat behind the wheel as the men climbed in. The scent of gunpowder, mud, and sweat, was powerful in the interior. He lowered all the windows. I’ve got a movie premiere tomorrow night, and Alex’s dad is in town, so… Billy started the car and backed out of the spot. The police radio crackled with dispatch calls. Since they were off on a training detail, he lowered the volume.

Jim Hague was sitting beside Billy in the passenger’s seat. His pants were covered in dirt from their tactical exercises. Mud caked his combat boot tread. You mean Mark Richfield?

Yup. Billy noticed the other two SUV’s file in behind him, so now they appeared to be police or feds on a mission.

Joe Scarbino, the youngest member on their team, asked, What? Hang on. Mark? Do you mean, Mark Antonious Richfield the cologne model?

Jim glanced at Billy and smirked. He thumbed to the back seat. Joe’s a little slow.

Billy stopped for a traffic signal and when he did, Joe leaned forward in the seat, his grimy hand over the leather. Hang on. Your father-in-law is Mark? Mark Antonious Richfield?

Bernie asked, What rock did you crawl out from under? Sharpe’s been married to Alex for nearly ten years.

Hey. I’m a lateral transfer from Arizona. Give me a break.

Jim said, Next thing he’ll ask you, L-T, is if you’re really gay.

Billy shook his head at them and kept going when the light changed to green.

Joking, Manny asked Joe, Ya want Sharpe to get you his autograph?

Fuck. Joe kept his hand on the seat as they spoke about it. Can I meet him?

Billy glanced into the rearview mirror at Joe. You want to meet Mark?

Fuck yeah.

Bernie laughed. Another groupie, Sharpe.

Have you seen his cologne ads? Joe said, The commercials where he flies on the Ducati?

You’re gay? Jim asked, blinking his eyes at Joe from the front seat.

Billy listened quietly, wondering the same.

No! was Joe’s first reaction. Come on. You’d have to be dead from the waist down to not think he was hot. If you pretend he’s not, you’re a fucking insecure closet case. Joe continued to argue Mark’s virtues, He was selected the sexiest man alive, the world’s most beautiful man, and the most eligible bachelor.

Billy tried to recall the bachelor title. He didn’t. When was that bachelor deal?

Uh… Joe put on a thinking face. Christ, when was that? Ages ago. My mom went nuts. She tried to get someone to fix her up with him.

All the men in the car roared with laughter.

Through the rearview mirror, Billy spotted the blush in Joe’s cheeks.

Joe said, Hey. Come on. She had no idea back then he was gay. It wasn’t as if they wrote it in the article. Then he was engaged to some woman, right? Her father owned G&T Corporation and needed a big high-rise tower and Mark was the architect. I remember when he was all over the news about it.

Billy smiled to himself. Joe? For someone who didn’t know Mark was my husband’s father, you know a lot about his past.

Not me. My mom was in love with him. She used to get all googily-eyed…Hey, L-T. Joe tapped Billy with one finger from behind. Why didn’t you marry him instead of his son? Aren’t you and Mark the same age?

He was already married to Steve Miller when I met him. Billy waited at a traffic light near the police headquarters.

Yeah, but, Joe said, He divorced him and remarried.

Jim stretched to look at Joe from the front seat. You keep up on all that gossip crap?

Sure. Joe shrugged. It’s fun.

Bernie said, Now we know why he wanted to be in your squad, Sharpe.

The men laughed.

Billy drove into the secure police parking lot. He was followed by the other two SUVs. He parked and shut down the engine.

The men climbed out and retrieved the gear from the back.

Billy waited as they did.

Joe, shouldering his kit, stood close. So? Can I meet him?

The other men took their equipment and carried it into the building. Billy sat on the open hatchback and spoke to Joe, "I’m not sure what he’s up to. I know he’s at the studio in Burbank at the moment filming for Forever Young. Then, tomorrow, we have Alex’s red carpet premiere, and Sunday? Billy shrugged. No clue, but he’s going to head back to Sac when he’s done with everything here."

Joe put the heavy canvas bag on the tarmac at his feet and leaned on the rear bumper with Billy. How did you meet him? I mean, L-T…Mark and Alex Richfield? Christ, I’m so jealous.

Whether Joe was gay or not was spinning in Billy’s mind. He wasn’t sure it mattered. In reality, it didn’t.

The men his age were terrified of expressing their opinions of pretty men. Joe? In his twenties? His generation wasn’t the same.

I met Alex when I was living with Angel Loveday. Alex had dated Angel’s son, Oliver.

Damn. Joe shook his head in awe. Angel Loveday… wow.

"I actually met Mark before that. He was doing freelance modeling for a while before Dangereux picked him up. Billy glanced at his filthy hands and fingernails. We had intel about a meth lab. Ended up being the wrong address. But, when we busted in, there was Mark. Very happy to see us."

Huh. Joe gazed in the direction of the patrol cars coming and going from the lot. The wind was blowing dust and dead leaves in circles. He was in a jam?

Yes. A bad one.

Wow. I can’t imagine being him. Joe rubbed at his chin with his dirty hands. He was tall, lean, and very good looking. Alex is so huge right now. He’s in so many films.

He is. He’s on fire. He just got another one. A pirate film. Billy chuckled. I can’t believe he’s turning twenty-nine.

Huh. He looks much younger than that. He and Mark look so much alike.

Billy noticed someone staring at him from outside the secure perimeter. A man wearing army fatigues. Billy stood from the rear bumper and said, Uh…so let me find out when Mark’s going to be available.

Joe nodded. Okay. You have my contact info. Catch ya on the flipside. He shouldered his gear and patted Billy’s shoulder. I know you’re all busy. Don’t worry if you can’t manage it.

Okay. Billy waited as Joe entered the building, then he walked towards the gated rail. Using a code on the box, Billy opened it.

I heard about Santa Monica.

Billy waited as this man drew closer.

I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was about it. From what I could discern from the crappy news coverage, you got a raw deal.

Memories washed over Billy like tsunami.

Major Ken Brooks- his boot camp crush.

We meet again. Billy wasn’t sure why Ken had come.

Ya got time for coffee? Ken asked.

For you? I do. Billy beckoned him to come along. Let me change. I just finished some tactical training.

No problem.

Chapter 2

Mark was seated in front of a mirror in a cluttered dressing room; one with racks of clothing, props, a standing fan, no windows, and old movie posters pinned all over the walls.

A robe on, Mark was being tended by a stylist. She made his hair wild and full, then applied heavy guy-liner to his eyes, and gloss to his lips.

Mark tried to be patient, because he did not want to do this. No. He was a CEO now. He owned his father’s company. No. This wasn’t him.

As his patience was tried, Mark battled with his decisions. He was too nice. He had let Charlotte Deavers push him into this.

Enough. Mark nudged the stylist’s hand away from his face. He gazed into the mirror and narrowed his eyes. I look like a tart.

You look like a sex god. She fussed with his hair and then tucked her makeup brushes into a supply belt she wore.

A tap came to the dressing room door. Mark? Almost ready?

Hearing the assistant director, Mark stood from the vanity and tightened the belt of the robe. He walked out of the room in bare feet towards the set.

It was a mass of chaos and motion as grips set up a bar scene with neon beer signs, colored spinning spotlights, and even a little vaporous smoke.

Charlotte, talking to her crew, pointed to the set as she said, Not too seedy. Mark isn’t a low cost stripper, quite the contrary, and then he tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around; a big grin lit up her face.

Mark kept the robe closed over his chest.

Richfield? You’ve still got it. Charlotte admired him.

It’s bloody freezing in here. Mark avoided the gawking of the crew around him.

Charlotte touched Mark’s arm lightly and led him to a fake cake. You read the script.

Sadly. Mark tried not to pout.

You leap out of the cake, do one, maybe two, lap dances, and…fuck it. Ad-lib the rest.

This is absurd. I’m not twenty any longer. I’m too old for this.

Sure, Mark. Sure. Charlotte chuckled. Okay. Charlotte turned towards her cast and crew. Do we need a walkthrough? Huh? A rehearsal?

A rehearsal? Mark asked, Are you kidding? What is there to rehearse? I leap out of a bloody cake and act like a fool!

Charlotte blinked at him in surprise and drew him away from the crowded area. She whispered, Do you need a drink? Something to calm your nerves?

I don’t know what I need. Mark ran his hand over his hair and Charlotte tried to stop him.

Cut it out. You’re fucking it up.

Closing his eyes, Mark counted to ten to calm down, and then opened them again.

Charlotte signaled to someone. She got a nod. Sit. Charlotte urged Mark to a stool near the wall, away from the chaotic prep work. He sat down, keeping the robe closed over his lap.

A crew member raced over and held a thermos and a glass. He poured from it.

What is this? Mark asked as Charlotte handed him the glass.

Dutch courage.

Mark took it and tossed it down. It was scotch. He winced at the burn and his eyes watered.

The man refilled it again.

Mark coughed and caught his breath.

One more, Charlotte urged him, It will loosen you up.

Flamin’ hell. I’ve nothing in my stomach. Mark held the second shot. He looked around at the set, designed to be a bar; at the waiting cast, watching him, and then, tossed the second shot down his throat. He shivered. That’s just nasty.

Keith and Carl approached Mark. You okay? Keith asked.

Mark wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. I’m too old. This is miserable.

Charlotte thumbed behind her at the set. Whenever you’re ready. She walked off.

Mark brooded.

Carl rubbed Mark’s back. You do realize you’re perfect.

Stop spouting rubbish.

Mark? Keith whispered, You look the same as you did on our first show.

I’m the owner of a company! Mark tried to shout quietly, I’m not this! He gestured to his robe.

Carl said to Keith, Let’s tell Charlotte he’s not doing it.

We can find someone else. Keith patted Mark’s back.

Just as the two men were about to tell Charlotte, Mark said, Wait. He closed his eyes again and battled for sanity. A wave of intoxication hit him unexpectedly. Mark hated to let people down even when it meant sacrificing himself. He wasn’t a flake. If he said he would…he was in. He had nothing to lose, right?

Fine. Mark stood from the stool, dropped the robe, and said, Help me inside that bleedin’ cake.

~

Wearing jeans and a black long-sleeved polo shirt, his pistol and badge on his waistband, Billy walked with Ken along the sidewalk to a coffee shop on the same block as the police division.

Since it was close to shift change, cops were everywhere, coming and going; patrol cars, motorcycles, unmarked sedans…

Ken opened the glass door for Billy and they stepped into the noise of espresso machines and loud conversations.

Since Ken was in uniform, a few people said, Thank you for your service.

Billy watched as Ken accepted the praise gracefully.

While they stood in line to get coffee, Billy thought about the last time he’d seen Ken. Ken had come to an officer’s funeral he had attended, with…Matt, his nephew. Matt had been in the army first, and now was an LAPD recruit.

Prior to that meeting, he had not seen Ken for twenty years.

Ken stepped up to the counter. I’ll have a grande latte.

Pumpkin spice?

No. Ken rolled his eyes at Billy. Coffee isn’t just coffee anymore. Now it has to be ‘seasonal’. He used air quotes and then gestured to Billy. Order, Sharpe. On me.

Billy stepped closer to the counter. Pumpkin spiced latte, grande.

Ken cracked up, since Billy had done it with a smirk of irony.

The woman behind the counter laughed. Can I have your names?

Ken thumbed at Billy. He’s dumb, and I’m dumber.

The woman roared in hilarity, wrote it on the cups, and held them up to show them.

A man standing behind them in line said, I’d like to pay for his coffee, pointing at Ken.

Billy touched his chest. What am I? Chopped liver?

Ken cracked up. Fuck you, Sharpe, it’s one of the perks.

I’m a vet, ya douche, Billy said to Ken, but loud enough for the man behind them to hear.

Fuck you, Ken said, still laughing. When he went to pay for Billy’s coffee, Billy slapped his