Chapter 8

Mr. Jeff's office was in lower Manhattan. So we had a good view of the Statue of Liberty and Battery Park was in close sight, too, so it was a lovely view. Mr. Jeff's mansion was a rich New Yorker's mansion, meaning it was a townhouse, but a huge townhouse. It was five stories tall. It wasn't that wide, but it made up for that in height and everything on the inside. We pulled up to the brick townhouse with teal accents and shrubbery on the windowsills.

Townhouses always look simple but clean and neat on the outside, simple, but once you step inside it's like walking into a palace, especially Lafayette Jeff's. The foyer was more expensive than anything I owned. Mr. Jeff took me on a tour of the place since everyone was gone except for some servants.

"So when is everyone arriving?" I asked.

"Soon. One by one they'll arrive," he said, looking grim.

"How about when we leave we stop to get some chocolate with caramel and then I give you a foot rub and we can watch Breakfast at Tiffany's?"

He smiled, and said, "Sounds good to me."

The first person I met was his older sister Axelle and her boyfriend Daniel.

"Hello brother," she greeted. "Surprised to see you here."

"I figured I could show my new assistant my house," he said simply.

She rolled her eyes. "You always call it your house, but you never live here. Probably because you don't care about your family enough. Where do you stay, huh? At all your mistresses' houses? Hell, you probably have a second house for yourself."

Mr. Jeff ignored her basically. "Axelle, this is my good friend and assistant, Emerson Lane. Em, this is my sister, Axelle, and - I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Daniel," said the guy, sizing Mr. Jeff up. What? Did he think he was better than Mr. Jeff? Who's the billionaire here? "Daniel Isaac."

"Right. I'm Lafayette and this is Emerson."

He nodded, grimacing a smile.

"Carlita!" Axelle called to the maid. "Set up the table for dinner, and bring a bottle of champagne to the parlor." The two of them left, throwing looks over their shoulders as Mr. Jeff and I stayed on the patio.

"Well, they seem like a nice couple," I joked.

"Oh, most certainly." He shook his head, annoyed. "My sister is not the worst. She doesn't just dislike me, but everyone really. So at least it's fair."

"Well, she's pretty." Axelle kind of was pretty. She had botox, definitely, even though she was only thirty-two. She was blonde, but since his family seemed to have dirty blonde hair her platinum was dyed. I feel like she could've been way prettier without the plastic. But I'm gay, so who cares right? "Are any of them married or have kids?"

"Uh, Delphine. Isn't it ironic how the youngest is the married one with the kids? You'd think she'd be last. Claude is married but he doesn't have any kids. His wife, Mary, wants kids but he doesn't."

"What about, uh...Clovis?"

"I don't know. I hardly know anything about him really. He just doesn't talk to me, or anyone really. I guess you can say he's the forgotten child."

Eventually, I met them all. Delphine and her husband John came in with their three kids whose names I don't remember. There were two boys that were around five or so and one baby girl. She was so much more nice than Axelle. I mean, let me tell you.

"Oh, look, bubby's got a boyfriend," she said once she saw us.

"Del, this is my good friend and assistant, Emerson Lane," Mr. Jeff introduced.

"Nice to meet you."

"Em, this is my sister Delphine and her husband John."

"You know it's never too late to repent your sins," she flat out said to me.

"Keep telling yourself that," I said, making her glare at me, and Mr. Jeff stifled a laugh.

"Come on kids," she hissed, grabbing her kids and literally dragging them into the parlor. John gave me a nasty stare and followed his wife.

Claude arrived next with his wife Mary. He was a pretty big guy and I remembered what Mr. Jeff said about him not being attractive. Claude wasn't ugly, he was just average, but his blue eyes made him slightly above average. Maybe he looked better with age. Mary was a pretty woman with brown hair, brown eyes, and pink lips. She wasn't covered in plastic either.

"Hi Claude," Mr. Jeff greeted.

"Lafayette," he said.

"Hi Lafayette," Mary said kindly.

"This is my friend Emerson Lane. Em, this is my brother and his wife, Claude and Mary."

"Nice to meet you," I said.

"Mhm," they both said. Claude just sort of glared at Mr. Jeff but Mary smiled at him. They joined the rest of the Jeffs in the parlor and I felt extremely uncomfortable. My face, neck, and chest were getting blotchy, because I was nervous and highly upset. I wasn't on the brink of tears, but I knew I would be if someone said something mean to me again. I hate being disliked. It makes me feel so...shitty.

The parents arrived next, Marjorie and Beaumont Jeff. The father was black-haired and aging but attractive for his age. Mrs. Jeff was a lot like Axelle. Botox-injected and trying too hard to look young. They just said hello to me and were civil, but they just gave me the look, like they didn't like me. Once they called everyone into the dining room for supper, Clovis appeared. Mr. Jeff introduced us and he nodded, giving me a grimace of a smile, but he didn't say anything. He didn't look like he disliked me, he just looked like he didn't want to be there.

We all gathered into the dining room, Mr. Jeff making sure to seat me at the end of the table and him sitting on the edge at the end, his father sitting at the head of the table opposite of him. The food was made by a cook, served by servants. We had five cheese ziti and garlic bread along with some red wine. The food was delicious and everyone kept up a hardy conversation, excluding myself, luckily. I really didn't want to talk to them considering they'd probably make me cry in the end. Unfortunately, they got bored of each other and decided to talk to Mr. Jeff and I.

"So where'd he find you?" Axelle asked me, picking her teeth.

"Oh, I already worked for him, I just got a promotion," I said.

"Uh-huh. Say, Lafayette, did you hire him just to check him out?"

"Of course," he said bluntly.

Axelle rolled her eyes and Mr. Jeff sighed.

"You're gay aren't you?" Claude asked, as though it wasn't rude.

"Yep," I said.

"Yeah you look like a girl.."

"If I didn't look like a girl I doubt I would've gotten promoted," I said casually. Mr. Jeff chuckled, looking at me like I was quite valiant.

"Where ya from, Emerson?" Mr. Jeff (the father) asked.

"Cornwall."

"Did you go to college?"

"Yeah," is all I said. Would he judge me if he knew I dropped out? I know Mr. Jeff dropped out, but still. Look at their relationship. Oh who cares? "But I dropped out."

He nodded.

"Aren't you taking a vacation soon?" Lafayette asked his parents. "Don't you normally take one around this time of year."

"We're going to Spain," said Mrs. Jeff.

"With my money?"

"Of course," she said.

"Daniel and I are going to his beach house down in Siesta Key," Axelle said.

"What about you honey?" Mrs. Jeff asked Claude.

"Uh, Mary and I are just going to visit friends in Boston for a few weeks."

"That's nice. Del, weren't you going somewhere up north?"

"Yeah, we're going to go skiing in Vermont. We're renting a cabin up there."

"That'll be fun for the kids."

I realized that they didn't ask Clovis anything. I mean, wow. He really is the forgotten child.

"Are you going anywhere Clovis?" Lafayette asked.

"No," is all he said.

"Do you live here?" I asked him.

"No. I just visit when I can."

"Do you have a job that takes up a lot of time?"

He seemed kind of surprised that I was acknowledging him. "Yeah. I work on Broadway."

"Wow, really? Are you an actor?"

"No. I'm a director."

"A director? What was the last thing you directed?"

"The Drowsy Chaperone."

"Really? I love that musical. I was in the pit in high school for it."

He seemed surprised. "Really, not a lot of people have heard of it."

"Totally underrated."

"So, Emerson," interrupted Mr. Jeff. "Do you plan on working for my son a long time?"

"Well, yeah. It's a great job and since I don't have a degree I don't think I could find another job. Plus, I enjoy my coworkers and my boss. So I plan on working there for quite a while."

"Your coworkers? You mean-"

"Emilio, Michael, and Vince," said Lafayette, looking at his father with an expression I couldn't read.

"They're still working there?"

"Of course they are, Dad. They helped me create the company. They are not going anywhere no matter what. They-"

"You need new employees, ones with real experience. You know I don't like them."

Lafayette smiled a truly fake, angry smile at his father, sipping on his wine. "No, Dad, they are fine. The business is doing fine. It will always be fine."

"They're the ones who made you gay in the first place," Delphine said.

"No, not actually, Del. You have a fundamental misunderstanding of how sexuality works, among other things," Lafayette said. It was getting heated.

"Yeah, Del, you didn't even graduate high school," Axelle said, taking a bite of pasta.

"That's not her fault, Ax," said Mrs. Jeff.

"Lafayette, I encourage you to think about your future," said Mr. Jeff. "Finding new people who can take over the business when you settle down with a nice young woman."

"Dad I will never settle down, and even if I did I doubt it would ever be with a woman," Lafayette said. His knee was shaking, and he kept tapping his fingers.

"Who will inherit the company?"

"Nobody I guess," he said. "When I die it dies with me. It sure as hell isn't going to any of you."

Suddenly, everyone started talking at once. I had never in my life been in a situation like that before, and I didn't know it could really happen. Why did they have to hate him so much? He gave them everything. No wonder he was so lonely.

"What are you crying about?" Claude asked me, loud enough to get everyone to stop talking.

I wasn't fully crying, but it was clear I was upset. "I just think you should trust in Lafayette more," I said. "Despite how mean you all are he still gives you everything." My voice was shaking. "Just...be nice, you know."

It was silent, up until Lafayette said quietly, "Let's go, Em."

We drove back to the building and went upstairs to the flat. He tossed off his jacket and poured himself some scotch. I determined that when he wasn't in the best of moods he drank scotch. When he was in a leisure mood he drank some wine or champagne. He usually only had one glass, just to calm him down a little. He downed his drink and then unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it into the hamper next to the dresser. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks. He then lied down on the bed, holding his head. I went behind the curtain of the bathroom and looked through the cabinet. I found a bottle of oil and went to the microwave to heat it up real quick. I used the hot oil to massage his feet.

"Hopefully you won't have to see them again," he sighed. "I'm sorry Em. I didn't mean to make you cry."

"It's not your fault," I said. "I was just overwhelmed."

He opened the drawer to the side table and pulled out a cigar. He looked at it but put it back, Nothing seemed to be working. He then pulled out a cigarette case, but inside were blunts instead of cigarettes. He lit up, taking a big hit. "Come here," he said, patting the spot next to him. He extended the blunt over to me.

I never smoked before but I was curious and didn't want to say no. I took it and inhaled. I coughed so hard I thought I was going to barf. Michael never said anything about pot. It must have been needed for desperate measures.

He smiled at me, his eyes becoming more red and tired.

"I'm really sorry you don't have a good relationship with your family. Are your holidays together good?"

"We don't celebrate the holidays together?"

"What?" I asked, flabbergasted. "That's crazy. I see my family all the time on holidays. We see each other for Easter, Memorial Day, I usually visit my grandmothers and mom on Mother's Day, my grandfathers and dad on Father's Day, 4th of July, Labor Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and sometimes on New Year's. Maybe if you get together for the holidays then, I don't know, things will be better. Especially around Thanksgiving and Christmas. That's the best time of the year! The Wednesday before Thanksgiving all the way to Christmas day. I love having a Thanksgiving feast, then going Black Friday shopping. I usually have to continue going shopping throughout and it's so wonderful to walk down the streets with the snow blowing every where, the lights hanging up, bells ringing, looking into windows. We all stay the night at my parents' house all Thanksgiving and then we stay together the 23rd to Christmas. It's corny, but it's really a magical time of year."

He rolled over, looking much less angry, and smiled up at me. "You make it sound wonderful. I usually work on Thanksgiving, go to a bar and pick up somebody. Then on Christmas it varies. I can't go to Michael's or Emilio's or Vince's place because Michael's family isn't too welcoming of people who aren't in the family. They already let Emilio come so I'd just be a burden. Then Vince and Donald go to Florida. I usually work or go to a bar or sometimes I decide to be charitable and spend time with the orphans or sick kids."

"You're welcome to spend it with my family this year, Thanksgiving and Christmas."

"No. I wouldn't want to intrude."

I rolled my eyes at him. "My family is the nicest group of people you will ever meet. They will love to have you. You're coming, whether you want to or not."

He laughed. "Alright. Looks like I'll be there."

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"Yes, Mom, we're almost there."

"Okay. It's just strange not picking you up."

"What? Do you want me to tell my boss to go screw himself and to spend Thanksgiving alone?"

"No! God, you're such a drama queen. I'm just saying that I've been so used to picking you up. We'd love to have Lafayette."

"Oh, already calling him by his first name. Way to make yourself comfortable."

"Honey, just because it took you a month to call him Lafayette doesn't mean I have to. He's not my boss is he? What're you bringing again?"

"Raspberry and white chocolate cheesecake with a chocolate crust."

"Sounds so good. Where'd he buy it?"

"He made it."

"What? Oh me oh my. He can cook, too. I'm telling you, Em, you have to seduce him."

I sighed, sliding a hand down my face. "Mom, I'm not seducing my boss. Just because he can cook doesn't mean anything."

"Well you almost burned the kitchen making Ramen noodles."

"I was twelve Mom, and I didn't read the instructions. How was I supposed to know I couldn't put it in a bowl without water in the microwave?"

"Yeah, and how were you suppose to know you shouldn't put the seasoning on either?"

"I eat out, Mom, and he cooks dinner a lot, too."

"You don't eat junk food do you?"

"No, Mom. We order nice food or eat with his associates."

"Oh! Gotta go! Oven's going off."

"Okay, see you soon."

"Goodbye!"

She hung up and I groaned. My mother is impossible.

We pulled up to my parents' house where white lights were hung up neatly all around the porch and windows. My parents always made sure their lights were straight and clean looking. They didn't want to look "tacky." After Thanksgiving, they hung up the rest of their Christmas decorations, which consisted of red and green garden lights to light the sidewalk, a red plastic lit up Christmas tree on the left, and green one on the right, two light up reindeers on the left, two on the right, and then light up snowflakes over the mailbox. They really loved their decorations.

We went inside, last to arrive, and my family was in the living room and kitchen. They had a big living room where a bunch of couches were at and a big TV where reruns of old TV shows were playing. There was a pool ball table that had a wooden plank covering it with a tablecloth over that, so the dining room and living room were kind of combined. On the opposite side of the table was the doorway that led to the kitchen. So they'd bring the food out, set it on the table, and then we'd grab it and sit in the living room portion to watch TV.

My family welcomed Lafayette with open arms. They asked him all sorts of stuff. My grandpa would start talking about how he apparently met Henry Ford and my grandmother would roll her eyes. My cousin would say his restaurants were great places to work. My aunt asked if we were dating and my mom said we had to be, but my dad would intervene, thank God, and say we were just friends. They were very different from his family. His family cared that he was rich and successful. They treated him differently because of that. They were also jerks. My family thought he was great that he was successful, but they weren't trying to figure out how to get money from him. They treated him normal, as though not billions of people knew who he was. They were incredibly nice to him, calling him "sweetie" and giving him compliments.

"Is it okay if he joins us for Christmas?" I asked Mom.

"Oh of course he can," she said, then turned to everyone and announced, "Lafayette dear here is going to join us for Christmas, too, so be sure to include him when you bring presents."

"That's not necessary," he told her.

"Nonsense. Emerson will tell you how we do Christmas here."

"Everyone buys gifts under twenty dollars. We're not the richest and so we sometimes make stuff or give them stuff we don't use but is still valuable. Or just gifts we buy. Also, we give gifts by family kind of. Like, my parents go in on gifts together. My aunt and uncle do, too. My cousins go in together. We do it together so that way we don't have to spend as much. We all buy for individual people, but don't buy individually."

"So, if I can get stuff for free then would that be okay? Like, from my department stores or clothing stores."

"I don't see why not."

"Great. You can help me with what to get. Better yet, we can go in on gifts together."

"Alright."

He smiled at me. "Great. I'm looking forward to it."

"Me, too. I always am. This is the best time of the year. I think December 26th is the most horrible day of the year."

He laughed and put his hand on my knee. "Thank you for inviting me."

"It's the least I could do."

He smiled at me, really smiling.. "I'm very glad I hired you as my assistant, and no - it wasn't just because I think you're cute. You seemed nice and trustworthy as well."

"Oh, so you didn't hire me for my looks."

"No," he told me, laughing. "I told Emilio and Michael to stop saying that because it's not true and it can get me into trouble." He smirked at me, looking at me in the corner. "I mean, you being cute was simply a bonus."