++You probably are not trying to break into this story because of the mention of a 60 year old, even though you are under 18. Good, I say, the rest of us don't want you here laddie. Come back when you're 19 to 60.
Here's my rap sheet: Age 22, Height: 5'9", Appearance: Movie-star good looks; Sexual Orientation: Unsure, but probably gay, Education: MBA, Employment: Stock Analyst at Peabody,Straus, Live alone in Soho studio, Porsche Roadster (bought used.)
Like any twenties dude I admired boys around my age, maybe a year or two older, and down to, say, eighteen. It was a matter of esthetics. They look so cute. Their skin is so smooth and scrumptious. Oh those white teeth and clear eyes, but you know all that.
What this adventure is about is one Langley Patterson. He came into my office accompanied by Dan Mercer, my boss. "Lang, this is one of our brightest boys, Chase Gold, he can give you the rundown on that list of stocks you have there. When you two are finished, buzz me and I'll take you to Charlie's, the hot new restaurant. I had to leave my wife as a hostage to get this reservation.
He left. I shook hands with Patterson. His slim, cool, immaculately cared for hand held mine for just an instant, but he telegraphed his importance and culture. My first impression was of an older man, very slim and fit and nicely tanned. He was dressed very expensively, even his belt must have cost $300. Oh that tan cashmere jacket and uncut corduroy slacks, lovely. I silently admired his taste in adding a small check, spread color shirt, mostly green and his stripped gold and yellow tie. He was so confidant that he triumphed over those authoritative clothes.
He opened a slim leather portfolio and extracted a list of three stocks. One I recognized, the other two were not familiar to me, but of course, a few strokes of the computer would bring up the full story.
I began with what I knew. I told him that I wasn't here to tell him what to do, merely to inform and the decisions were up to him. At that point I learned that this was not one of those unimportant visits from an investor. Patterson had just inherited a quarter of a billion from his late brother. It had been, he explained, tied up in real estate and some enterprises. "I was not too impressed with his holdings. The day after the funeral I, as his only heir, instructed the attorneys to liquidate all into cash. It is that sum we are dealing with today."
I think the momentousness of the sum affected me. He said that I seemed pale. "Chase, my boy, do not let the zeros get you. Think about the investments and knock off four zeros."
About the other two suggestions he had brought, he eliminated one of them immediately as it was a Russian controlled oil company. I told him, "Be careful. There is a lot of rapid events that are changing the value and ownership of that conglomerate.
But the third one, it was a proprietary chemical company that had delved in some medical products. It was family owned, therefore no real information, but had produced very large annual profits for over thirty years. "What brought this to your attention?" I asked.
"Well they have a new product. It appears to have been fully tested. They have iron tight patents and it could be very big."
He smiled broadly at me. He had a magnificent smile, perfect teeth. "That I used the word big, made me smile. Don't laugh, the patent is to elongate the male penis."
"You can't be serious. I get emails all the time from shady companies who promise that. Doctors say it is impossible, except for that risky operation of cutting the muscle above the shaft. Then too, there are those pumps, but unless one is willing to run the risk of tearing tendons..."
"You've tried them?"
Without thinking I blurted, "No need, I pack over nine inches."
I knew I shouldn't have said that, but his perfect eyebrows raised in comical surprise and he passed his hand over his hair. Nice hair. Silver colored and he had a widow's peak, I always love them.
"So then, you won't need their nostrum, but the rest of the world, myself excluded, may indeed."
We ended our visit with some concrete ideas. I suggested that he budget a small amount, an amount that he wouldn't care if he lost it, in that chemical company. I also printed out an analysis of three other stocks. "I would invest in these myself if I didn't spend everything on just living expenses, auto insurance and the like."
"Yes lad but you are the bright boy here. In a very short time you will be earning much more. In fact, my taking you on as my personal advisor will help your career."
I thanked him profusely and promised to do my best for him.
"Now," he said slapping his knee, "call your boss, Dan and tell him to cancel the reservation at Charlie's. Don't tell him I've already eaten there three times and I think it is overrated. For our lunch, we are going to the Empire Club, my club and have some honest food, afterward, we can take advantage of their excellent pool and spa. Tell Mercer that you may not be back today."
We took the elevator to the garage and his car and chauffeur were waiting. I am interested in cars, I didn't recognize this one. It must have been some English car that had been customized. He saw me studying the car and said, "It's an Armstrong-Sidley, about forty years old. I don't think anyone could recognize the rebuilt automobile in front of us.
We pulled up in front of his club. On the way, Langley had made a hefty Martini for us, front the car's liquor cabinet. I was a bit tipsy from drinking this size drink on an empty stomach.
One thing the ride had shone, he was a gay man who was very careful and dignified. He made several conversational parrys at me, the kind that could be construed either way. He touched me on my shoulder a few times. You have to trust me, I knew he was interested, but I had determined that I wasn't going to be bought by him.
Moving quickly in my story I will tell you that the club was very discrete. I had passed this spot many times and never noticed it. It was set back and around a bend, behind another building. There was no brass plaque, just a door that Langley's key fit. Inside we heard the murmur of voices chatting over lunch. My host was greeted by name and he were ushered into a private room with a doorway covered with blue velvet drapes. I noted that it was a round table and I thought of the old joke, "He'll never corner me here, I'll just keep circling." It was a bad joke. Instinctively I knew that he was no old auntie who would grope me or use his power to seduce me. This was a guy who had enough sex appeal to entice anyone of any age.
I found myself changing my ideas of golden youths and thinking about the power of an older cultivated man, one who might be a lover of exquisite talent. I pushed these thoughts out of my mind and tried to think about our visit here as a business lunch. At least I tried.
To say that the food was good, was a falsehood. It was stupendous. I ordered a simple lunch, chef's salad, but it was made with hand carved, off the frame meat. The mayonnaise was a special recipe and the rolls, wow. Even the coffee was unbelievable. I was stomach happy and the conversation had been fun and gave me a chance to show that I wasn't a stock drone. We discussed books, theater clothes. Yes, he admired my suit. He didn't know that I only had two suits, both tailor made and two shirts costing two hundred dollars each.
"May I pick up the check," I asked after we waved the waiter from refilling our coffee cups for a third cup.
"No Chase. There is no check. I have an annual fee and can eat as often as I wish, or never."
I shrugged and smiled. "Well I tried."
"Yes you did and I will mention that at your office. Now what say we rest in the sleeping room and then when we have digested our lunch, swim, or if you prefer, a massage."
"The nap sounds good. I always get a bit sleepy with cocktails and lunch."
He put his arm around me and we headed for the tiny elevator.
End Part One
(The author asks two things (1) suspend your prejudice again older men.
(2) be patient and wait for chapter two.)