Italian Dinner

**I own these characters, I do not make any money writing this story.**

Italian Dinner
Chapter Four

~*~

I was later advised by Karla, our receptionist at the station, that it would be wise to leave Julian alone for a few days and follow up with him on the Friday, when I was sure the lawyers would have cooled a little after the unveiling of the Giovanni fraud case.

I had taken some time, during my coffee breaks while at the station, to explain to her the nature of the case that I was on. She was the only one who didn't snicker because I was pretending to be a gay marital lawyer in order to get behind the grisly lines of this family's history. She often remarked on how she thought it was clever and asked how it was going every time I saw her when I came in. It was nice to talk to someone about the case who wasn't gonna look at you funny when your back was turned.

I "neglected" to tell her, however, about the kiss that I shared with Julian and how much I had liked it. Somehow I felt the story was pretty much the same without adding that delicate detail. I did however tell her about how I had planned to invite him to dinner that night, but I was confused when I saw her shaking her head steadily while sipping from her thermos.

"You're coming off as being too desperate." she told me.

"Well but don't gay guys like that?" I asked. I sure as Hell didn't know myself.

"Desperation can be cute, Adrian, but this guy's had a few too many bad boyfriends while desperation hasn't been his friend, and don't you think he's gonna think its a bit suspicious?"

I opened my mouth to argue but then had to stop and think. I had seen a lot of Julian in the past two weeks or whatever since I had met him, maybe it was time to cool off a bit, let him get on with his business without me interrupting him with proposals of lunches and dinners and whatnot. And Karla had a point, I would come off as being desperate and in that case maybe Julian was a bit suspicious. And if he wasn't suspicious, then there was always a chance that any of his family members or co-workers could get suspicious too.

So I took her advice to heart, and decided that I would wait until Friday to call him up on that dinner.

In the meantime I took the protocol steps towards the case. I filled out the paperwork, I consulted with Swanson and I made a plan for the next couple of days. I was still on standby, somewhat, in case his brother Matteo really did want to get divorced. Judging by what Julian had said about them threatening to divorce four times in the two years of their marriage, I had a feeling that another threat was looming anytime once they returned from Palermo.

Another thing that I did was research a little more into the familiy's history - or at least what had been documented in the newspapers of the past. A lot of it had been trophy articles; ribbon-cutting ceremonies to celebrate their 50th mansion built and the success of completing a list of showhomes before the designated completion time.

Nothing really suspicious. No late night diner murder suspicions of any kind. Frustrating.

I did, however, find in my search the article with the headline, "Consolata Boy's Bad Boyfriend Disappears".

I remember Henrikson telling me about this, about Julian's boyfriend who had been a head chef in one of the biggest restaurants in the city and disappeared after making death threats to Julian and his family.

The guy had been arrested and held for 48 hours until let go, due to the fact that police didn' believe he was actually capable of pursing the threats he had made to Julian. The article stated that the guy had gotten in his car to go home, and no one ever saw him again.

The article did state that it was suspicious; and that both Matteo and Santo Consolata had been questioned, as had Julian. But no one was suspected of having anything to do with the disappearance of the guy.

But that's exactly what happened; the guy just...disappeared. Everything at his place was in order, no sign of a struggle, his car and everything was in place. It was just like he disappeared into thin air.

Police had to close the case due to lack of evidence. Obviously Julian wasn't very affected by the whole thing now, but maybe he had been oblivious to the whole thing while something actually did happen behind his back.

No offense but if you looked at Matteo Consolata, he looks like someone who would murder you if given a reason and half a chance and would feel little to no remorse the next day. Maybe it had been all Matteo and Julian hadn't a clue about it.

There wouldn't be much point in questioning Julian about the whole thing; then he would know that I had been prying into his background and that would definitely make him suspicious. If the issue ever came up, then maybe I could ask him about it. But other than that, it was a topic off limits to discussion.

~*~

So this was the plan I had routed for the next little while with this case: I ask Julian to dinner and lunch a few more times, I go with him to work when he wants me to be the nice lawyer amid a bunch of evil ones. I'll be nice to him, I'll bring him coffee, I'll listen to his problems and woes, I'll be the nice guy, I'll kiss him once or twice...and I'll do it all until he invites me to meet the family.

It was going to take time, but I knew that in order to get in deeper than I already was, I had to be better acquainted with Matteo and make the acquaintance of the rest of the family. Only then could this case make the progress it needed.

~*~

On the Friday, I called Julian's office in the afternoon and was told to call back within an hour, due to the fact that he was in a meeting with the lawyers and the president of the company. When I called back, he picked up the phone on the first ring.

"Adrian." he sounded pleased to hear from me. "It feels like forever since I've heard from you last."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that." I told him. "I had a mad couple of days, appointments back to back. I guess May is the month when every last bickerer in the city wants to get divorced."

It was a pretty sad joke, but he still strifled a chuckle. "But you're keeping busy?"

"Yeah, pretty busy. I guess it's good. How are things with you?"

"Oh, hectic." he said with an uneasy laugh. "The lawyers had a field day when you told them about the Giovanni fraud thing. We met with a few of his lawyers who are denying the whole thing, so we still have a little ways to go yet. If we can actually prove that it happened then I'll bet that he'll drop the case."

I opened my mouth to tell him about the article hanging up at the police station, but then I remembered that I couldn't be a detective at that moment. So I kept my mouth shut.

"Anyway," I said after a moment of awkward silence. "The reason I'm calling is I wanted to know if you were available tonight to have dinner."

My hand was shaking, mostly because I was going to invite him to have dinner at my apartment.

"Oh..." he sounded rather hesitant. "I don't know, Adrian. I'm wiped out...I'd be dull company."

"I wasn't thinking we'd go out." I said rather quickly. "I was kinda hoping we could...stay in."

This obviously took him by surprise, but in a good way or a bad way I'm not sure. I know with heterosexual couples it's usually a good thing when couples stay in. But I didn't know how it was with gays.

"Oh..." he said quietly. "I...I don't want to impose."

"You wouldn't be. I love to cook, really I do. Why don't you come by?"

I was shaking still, worried that I was sounding too desperate by asking him to my place.

"Well..." he said quietly. "If you're sure."

He was now beginning to sound too hesitant for my liking. Either he was suspicious about my inviting him to my place or he was just too wiped out to do anything. At that point I wasn't sure what to do, whether to advise we get together some other time or insist that he come to my place for dinner. I bit my lower lip and chewed it a little.

"Adrian?" he murmured on the phone.

"Yeah," I said, and cleared my throat. "Uh listen, if you're not up to it, don't worry about it. We can always go out another time."

"Oh, well..." he trailed out for a minute. "If you wouldn't mind."

As it turned out, he really didn't have the energy to make another trip that day. He apologized over and over and told me that he wanted to go home and rest for the weekend, before adding "if I get a weekend". I knew that Julian was tired and worn down by the lawyers and business and what not, so I didn't argue and told him I'd talk to him on Monday. But after we had both hung up I got that horrible feeling at the base of my throat, that Julian was getting very suspicious and was going to back off a little.

Well at least this way I was able to have the weekend to myself and sort some things out, get the whole plan into gear and really focus on what I had to do within the next week.

~*~

At 4:18 the next morning, I was awakened by the sharp ringing of my telephone. There had been another murder.

This one was located in a crappy motel in the seediest part of Hollywood, and making the drive there at 4:30 in the morning without having a chance to shower or even dress properly was not much fun. I don't make much of a habit of getting around Hollywood, but some of the guys were used to seeing some big horrendous things go down in the area. This murder, however, had taken the cake, and when I arrived at the scene there was a guy bent over the bushes, puking.

The Four Clovers motel, a two star motel that sat next to an overpriced restaurant and a porn shop. When I entered the scene, several guys were questioning the guy at the front desk, who was obviously a blabbering idiot who claimed he didn't know anything was going on.

Going past the lobby and into the courtyard, where a grimy pool laid unfilled and the whole of Los Angeles Downtown lay straight ahead, I climbed the stairs to the veranda. Officers were lined along the hallway, having pulled out frightened snoozers who hadn't seen anything but heard the screaming. The room was the last one on the right side, and I braced myself for the worst.

The room was a piece of shit. A mattress with a skimpy sheet and pillow, a TV, a broken lamp and a bathroom barely larger than a pantry. Few of the investigators were fingerprinting everything, but the commotion was coming from the bathroom.

I sidled up next to Henderson and looked. I had to grimace.

The scent of blood hit me square in the face. The body was hanging, arms hooked and bound over the shower curtain rod. Poor bastard's neck was broken and barely holding on. One of his eyes was torn out. He was pantless and didn't wear shorts, and half of his torso had been ripped out and lay in a filthy pile on the grubby tiled floor.

God...damn.

"What the hell happened?" I whispered to Henderson, watching in awe as the brave investigators ventured forth collecting blood and tissue samples, probably to indentify the poor bastard.

"Get this," Henderson chuckled, snapping gum at the same time. "You see the guy downstairs? It's late and he's on the late shift so he starts jacking off at the desk. I mean talk about no shame, right? So then right while he's in the middle of jacking off, this...guy, presumably, comes up to the desk and drops something down, scares the shit out of the prick, and leaves."

"What, he didn't even see who it was?" I asked, astonished.

Henderson looked at me with one eyebrow raised. "Adrian when you're jacking off, do you stop to sniff the flowers on the sill? Course this guy didn't see who it was, and the fucker didn't even stick around as was to be expected. This guy looks up and there's the key to the room, all bloodied up...and the eyeball."

Uggnnh...sick.

"So of course he comes up and finds this, screams like a pussy and wakes everyone up, next thing you know we're here." He snapped his gum again and went on chewing, staring on at the body with his arms crossed as though it was a stop sign on the street.

I couldn't look at the body anymore. I moved away from the bathroom.

Investigators were busy with the window sill, so I snatched one of their gloves and did a little looking myself. I opened the drawers and found nothing but a pair of handcuffs and a ripped condom package. I reached in to grab it, when I was startled out of my mind.

"Don't touch that, we haven't been in there yet!" one of the investigators screamed at me and I jumped back from the drawer.

Henderson had moved up beside me and peered in. "Hmm." he mumbled. "Well, maybe he had a whore in the room." he said rather inconclusively. "Might explain the cuffs and rubber wrapper."

"Except what kind of a whore would come in a room, sleep with the guy, tear him half apart and then put the cuffs and condom in the drawer?" I heard myself say aloud, even though I had meant to only think it.

Instantly I heard somewhere from behind me: "Maybe it was a homo erotic encounter gone wrong." and then came the chuckles. I closed my eyes. Man was I getting sick of the gay jokes.

"What about clothes?" I asked.

"Gone, we figured maybe they'd turn up in the laundry...but nothing yet."

"Do we have an ID on this guy?"

"No wallet, no identification, no nothing. Sure does point to a prostitute though, doesn't it?"

It did, I had to admit. This didn't seem like a hit or anything, it felt like a wrong place at the wrong time kind of murder, and the handcuffs and the condom package in the drawer spelt "whore" to me as well.

But according to the report, the guy down at the desk hadn't seen a prostitute come in with anyone, and said that they had a strict policy about that kind of thing, despite the fact that this was the seediest part of Hollywood. At the same time he had mentioned that no one had come through the lobby from 1am to now. The murder had definitely happened within that time, so it had to have been someone that came in with the guy, or snuck over the fence.

It was too messy to be a straight-forward hit, it seemed like a serial-killer murder to me. And if we had a serial-killer prostitute wandering around, that would explain everything.

But what I didn't like was that there was nothing to connect this murder to the first. Unlike the first victim, the poor bastard hanging up in the bathroom to dry didn't have any identification, and certainly didn't have any business cards from the office of Matteo Consolata to give us a clue or even a hint of a suspect.

There was nothing to connect this murder to the one in Santa Monica, and nothing to connect this murder to the Consolatas. This was just cold murder, all the way around.

~*~

On my way back from the station, while I was still trying to settle my stomach with a bottle of Peptol Bismal, my cellphone started to ring, and while I expected it to be Swanson telling me to get my bony ass back to the station, I was surprised to hear Julian's chipper voice on the other line when I picked up.

"Hi Adrian." He sounded so much more alive and cheery than when I had talked to him the night before, it was a relief to hear someone who wasn't so downed by the things that had happened that morning. It perked my spirits a little.

"Hey, what's up? I thought we were gonna talk Monday."

"Adrian I just felt so bad about blowing you off last night." He said sincerely, almost a little sadly. "I was just so tired, you know. I just...felt really horrible. I'm sorry."

Honestly at this time I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Usually when someone blew me off, whether it was an old girlfriend or my ex wife, there was never an explanation given, and when it was asked for there was a big fight that followed. There was also never an apology. This was a total shock.

"Julian, don't apologize." I sounded a little too annoyed for my liking, even though I wasn't. "I know the business takes a lot out of you, you're allowed to have some time to yourself."

"Well..." he sounded a little sheepish now. "I just...felt kind of bad about it, you know. But I'm feeling better today, I thought if maybe you wanted to catch up on that dinner..."

I smiled, unable to help it. Dinner with Julian sounded like just the thing to down the scene I had to swallow for the past three hours, and even though I didn't think I'd be able to eat anything, it would be nice to see him.

"Yeah, dinner would be great. Where would you like to go?"

I had totally forgotten that I had invited him to my place for dinner last night, and when I heard his reply I was quite startled.

"I...was actually kind of hoping we could, well...stay in."

As soon as I heard this, I could only think of one thing. Julian wanted to have sex.

"If you don't mind, of course." he added very quickly.

"No, no..."

I talked to him for another minute or so, agreeing to cook dinner for him as though it had been an instinctive reflex. I gave him directions to my place and asked if he'd come around 7:30, and he agreed. I spent the rest of the afternoon at the station, and afterwards rushing to the grocery store and picking up things I needed to cook a modestly acceptable dinner. I cooked now more than usual due to the fact that I was no longer married, but that didn't mean that my cooking was in league with the food he must have been used to.

I only thing I could make reasonably well was spaghetti sauce with vermecelli, but I was sick to to think that it was probably something he ate a lot of in his household. A lot of pasta.

Well...I hoped he wouldn't mind.

In my haste to get everything I needed and be home in time to cook it, I almost forgot a few crucial things, and had to get them right before leaving. When the girl at the counter in the drug store looked at me buying green-apple flavored edible lubricant and extra strength condoms, she either thought I was creepy, or that I was in for one hell of a night.

~*~

I got home and put the lube and the condoms away in a drawer in the nightstand next to my bed, and while I looked at my bed (which was messy, due to the fact that I was not going to make my bed at four in the morning while off to a murder scene), I decided that if things progressed into the bedroom then it would be courteous to have made the bed in the least. So I did.

From there I decided to tidy up my bathroom, which wasn't messy but there were some clothes in the hamper and mouth-wash stains on the basin that I cleaned. When I went back into the kitchen I took a quick look about the den and saw that it was pretty much as I had left it, which was to say very vacant. But I decided it would be better to eat out in the den at the coffee table so I set a couple of placemats and put down wine glasses and utensils. When I was pleased as I could be, I returned to the kitchen.

With the pasta water bubbling and the sauce just about done, I looked at the clock and saw it was 7:07. I went back to the bedroom and changed into a crisper shirt, hiding the work shirt in one of my drawers instead of flinging it on the chair in the corner. When I looked in the mirror to fix myself up, a terrible thing began to happen.

I was staring at myself and suddenly there were things I was hearing and I couldn't stop them.

You're not gay. You don't even look gay! You don't fool Julian for a second! He's not coming by for dinner, I'll tell you who's coming by for dinner: Matteo and his friend Mr. Tommy gun, yeah! That's whos coming for dinner. And don't even think Julian wants to kiss you or have sex with you, he doesn't think you're gay, and you're not so don't bother thinking you're going to have sex with him. You're going to fuck absolutely everything up, you'll get fired and you'll have to go back to Seattle where everyone will know that you were a fucking failure! Simple as that!

...

Following that little outburst I had to sit to calm myself down, but truth was I was scared. I was scared of screwing this up, all this progress and everything that this had going...if I screwed up now then I could kiss the case and my job goodbye. And if Julian wanted to have sex and I found that I couldn't even pretend to be gay well then what? I would screw it up then too!

I went to the kitchen and swallowed a whole glass of wine in a minute. When I looked at the clock I could feel my heart begin to hammer in my chest. 7:26. Any minute now...any minute now Julian would arrive...and anything could happen.

I began to fiddle with the pots on the stove when I heard the buzzer, and just about jumped out of my skin in surprise. Okay, calm down, I told myself. Just calm down. Everything's going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay...

I straightened up and went to answer the door, first looking through the peephole to make sure it was Julian and not his brother wielding a gun. But there he was, standing patiently and smiling just slightly. I unhooked the chain and unlocked the door and still my heart was pounding. And when I opened the door to greet Julian I was almost afraid I wouldn't be able to hear anything he was saying over my racing heartbeat.

Julian was dressed in beautiful weekend clothes, a refreshing change from the iron-like suits that dulled him. His hair was combed and his eyes were bright and full of life, and his smile made my heart race even quicker, if possible. He came inside bearing gifts of a bottle of wine and small box of gourmet chocolates in his arms.

"Am I late? I'm sorry I'm late..." he said as he slipped out of his shoes.

"Oh no...not late at all." I murmured as I closed the door. Fuck, there was a frog in my throat. Gotta get rid of it.

He gave me his gifts with a big smile. "These are for you. The wine's amazing, and the chocolates are supremely delectable."

"Aw, Julian. You didn't have to do that." I said as I looked at the label on the bottle of wine, and then proceeded to set them down on the nearby mail table.

"I wanted to." he said softly.

Then, he came right up to me, stood up on his tip toes and kissed me right on the mouth. For a minute I didn't know what was happening but I calmed myself down and kissed him back, winding my arms around him and pulling him close. He tasted like fresh air and strawberries, and I could feel his cool, soft hand caress the back of my neck, calming down my nerves and quieting my racing heart into barely a murmur.

When I pulled from him, he was smiling at me, and I smiled back at him, and suddenly I was cool as a cucumber. Julian had this way of making everything so much easier.

Hey, if Julian wanted to have sex later, I was game.

"You hungry?"

~*~

Next chapter: Well I think you know...