Betting on Bailey

Daniel nods. “Thirteen years.” He shakes his head in mild disbelief. “That sounds crazy, doesn’t it? Time flies by and you don’t even realize it. I can still picture this skinny kid cooking in a greasy spoon.”

“How’d you meet?”

Daniel rests his head on my shoulder. “Sebastian’s parents threw him out of the house when he was sixteen,” he says.

“Why?” I glance at Sebastian, shocked.

Sebastian looks uncomfortable at this foray into the past. “I couldn’t sit still in class,” he shrugs. “My mind leapt around during lessons. The teachers decided I was a trouble-maker. I grew up in a small town. Once you were labelled a trouble-maker, that was it. So I scraped up enough money for the bus fare, and ran away to New York.”

I’m riveted. I’ve spent more than a few hours Googling the two of them but I’ve never heard this story.

Daniel continues. “So there’s this sixteen year old kid in New York, and he works odd jobs in restaurants to earn money, and sleeps in a studio apartment that he shares with five other people, just to be able to afford the rent.”

“I worked in a diner,” Sebastian picks up. “One night, a bunch of rich kids come in.” He grins, inclining his head at Daniel. “Including this one. By this time, I was nineteen and cooking during the graveyard shift, and anytime the owner wasn’t around, I’d vary up the recipes just a little. A little more spice, a little more creativity. I wanted to get noticed. Create an opportunity.”

“I ordered a grilled cheese sandwich,” Daniel remembers. “I was expecting white bread and packaged cheese slices.” He shakes his head. “Instead, I got a sandwich that had caramelized onions and real cheese, with a dipping sauce on the side that was about the best thing I’d ever tasted.”

“The next thing I know, I’m getting invited to meet Daniel’s parents.” Sebastian smiles. “The rest is history. Real restaurant jobs, opportunities to learn from top-flight chefs. And when I was ready to open Seb New York, Daniel opened his purse strings.”

I pull Sebastian in so he’s leaning on me, and I’m held tight between them. His story has awed me. He’s achieved so much in such a short time. Unlike Daniel, he wasn’t born into money. Everything Sebastian has now, he’s achieved with hard work.

The story also reveals a side of Daniel that I didn’t know. Even when he was young, he’d realized he could use his money to help others. He didn’t give Sebastian a handout - instead, he offered him a hand up. He was thoughtful enough and insightful enough to do that for Sebastian.

He’s just done the same thing for me with the Hartman Foundation endowment.

“And look at him now,” Daniel beams. “The best chef in the city.”

Sebastian looks faintly embarrassed by that. “I’m not there yet,” he says. “What’d you think, Bailey?” His big hand strokes my thighs lazily, and desire rises anew in me. “Daniel reached out and helped me when he didn’t have to. Even with all the support I had, the first six months of running my own restaurant were among the toughest times in my life. I’d love to help your friend.”

I think about Piper’s sadness earlier today, about her eyes, swollen from a crying jag. If Sebastian can help? If his friends can give her some pointers? I can’t think of something that’d be better.

I kiss him, then turn to Daniel and kiss him too. “You guys are awesome,” I tell them honestly. “What’s the catch?”

Daniel grins lazily. “We might spank you a lot,” he threatens. “And I have a plan for Wednesday’s pool game.”

“Really?” His voice has turned smoky, and I can tell that whatever the plan is, it involves sex. And I’m turned on by that idea. Who am I kidding? I’m turned on by anything these two guys propose.

He gives me a half-smile, but doesn’t offer up any additional detail. Instead, he nudges my legs apart. “I want you now, Bailey,” he says. “I want to sink into you. I want to pound you hard and make you cry out as you come.”

I’m on board with this idea. There’s a wooden side table on either side of the headboard, and Sebastian opens the drawer and pulls out a tube of lube. “Still on board with anal?” he asks me, with a wicked gleam in his eye.