The forbidden billionaire

Kelvin blew his dark  hair out of his eyes as he clicked his

wireless mouse. Sweat trickled down his neck and onto his muscled chest and

then down his washboard abs.

It was scorching in his apartment, easily topping

one-hundred degrees. That’s why he was sitting in only his boxers.

But with no job and a fast-shrinking nest egg, air

conditioning was an amenity he could no longer afford.

So Kelvin sat in his small apartment in darkness, making

sure to only use electricity where he really needed it.  He sat with his laptop, sending  out a few job applications.

However, Kelvin was aware that the odds were stacked against

him.

Sure, he had an MBA from a prestigious university, but so

did a lot of other students, students who were not poor and whose family

associates could get them in the door at the good firms out there.

A click here and a keystroke there, Kelvin finished what

felt like his hundredth application. This last one to a third rate

import/export firm in a city in Maine.

Kelvin doubted he would hear back from them, but at this

rate, he'd be looking at making applications for H&R Block pretty damn

soon. Growling with frustration, he closed the lid on his laptop, flopping back

on the only piece of furniture in his apartment, a third-hand brown sofa that

doubled as his bed. 

Closing his eyes, he muttered a quick prayer to whatever

gods that were listening.

Regardless of his situation, Kelvin decided he had to get

out of his apartment for a while and get some fresh air.

He had been tirelessly sending applications out all day. And

now, the sun was setting, the most beautiful time of the day in Kelvin’s eyes.

Summer in New York City was far too hot and humid during the

daytime, and at night it was dangerous, at least in Kelvin’s neighborhood.

But there was magic for a few hours, usually between about

six and eight at night, when the heat would fade, and the sky had a orange-red

glow.

Rising from the couch, Kelvin quickly shed his sweat-soaked

boxers.

Giving them a quick sniff, he decided he needed to wash them

even though he was going to go work out anyway.

There was a difference between fresh sweat and old sweat,

and he didn't want to put up with a daylong stench.

After washing with cold water from his sink, Kelvin pulled

on a fresh set of briefs with jogging sweats to go along with a white

wife-beater.

 Locking his apartment

door behind him, Kelvin jogged his way down to the part of New York that he

most enjoyed, Central Park.

He was conscious of the looks some of the women gave him as

he ran by, ignoring them for the most part.

Kelvin knew he was attractive, with smooth skin, muscle tone

and long limbs that he had inherited from his father. 

He was a Long Island native. He had moved to New York when

he was just a boy and had sandy Darke hair and sparkling green eyes.

The boys in his high school nicknamed him "Darkie".

Kelvin ddin't too much care for it, but he tolerated it.

Whenever women were around, he turned heads. The thing was,

he was gay.

 Still, when people

saw him, they saw a straight, handsome young man.

Kelvin wasn't one to lie about his sexuality, but he often

did little to correct the women’s assumptions when they came up to him, asking

him out on dates. Mostly, he would politely decline and lie and say that he was

in a relationship.

Crossing into Central Park, Kelvin heard his name being

called out by Ralph, one of the hotdog vendors.

Ralph was chubby and short, with an endless supply of

amusing comments on just about anything. He was the type of guy that would

strike up a conversation with anyone.

The old Irishman was an institution at the park ever since Kelvin

was a little boy. "Hey Kelvin! What’s up, man?"

Kelvin jogged over to Ralph's hotdog stand, grinning the

whole time. "I'm pretty good, Ralphmy. How about you?"

"Crap, you know how it is during the summer. Everyone

wants cold drinks or ice cream. My business isn't half of what it is in spring

or fall. How's your job hunting coming along?"

Ralph was one of those unique New York establishments where

he knew everything about you, even if you had never told him directly.

Kelvin shifted on his feet. "No luck so far. But

something has got to give soon. I'm close to being broke.”

Ralph clucked his tongue and gave Kelvin an empathetic look.

"I don’t quite understand, Kelvin," said Ralph,

reaching into his cart. "You're young, handsome and smart. Hell, I've seen

you work more than any Hamptons boy would ever dream of. Besides," Ralph

added with a playful wink, "you’re so good looking that I know one of

those broads in charge of interviewing applicants should hire you on looks

alone!"

Kelvin chuckled nervously. If only Ralph knew the truth of Kelvin’s

sexuality. Still, what Ralph was saying had merit. A lot of women fawned over Kelvin’s

looks, professional or not.

"Don't let any of the guys hear you tell me that I’m so

handsome," said Kelvin, "or else the North Side is going to need a

new hotdog vendor."

"Speaking of which," Ralph said, pulling out two

hotdog dogs and laying on heavy ketchup and mustard and then sprinkling a

couple of pickles, "here. Don't give me any objections, I've watched you

lose ten pounds ever since you graduated. You are not eating enough, young man.

Another ten and you'll be going from slender to scrawny and we can't have that

my boy."

Kelvin swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and

graciously accepted the offered food on a paper plate.

The two dogs were the only real food he had eaten all day

besides some soggy Ramon noodles for breakfast.

Kelvin tried to avoid wolfing the dogs down, but within

seconds found himself licking his plate clean. "Thanks, Ralph. One day,

I’m gonna pay you back for all the food you've so graciously given me over the

years."

"Hey Kelvin, before you leave, you should head over to

the playground over on 230th street," said Ralph, ignoring Kelvin’s offer.

Kelvin knew it wasn't that Ralph was impolite; he just

didn't care if Kelvin paid him back or not, and didn't want to embarrass him

any further. "There's a new guy in town. People say he’s a beast on the

bars."

"So?" Kelvin asked, glancing in the playground's

direction. "What’s so special about that?”

Starting with pull up bars, the Body builders were a group

of exercise fanatics. They only used the playground equipment for all of their

workouts and every single one of them were in insane shape. They had a YouTube

channel that was extremely popular at one time.

Still, Kelvin liked to think he could put the Body builders

to shame if he felt like flexing his ego,

"Two things. First, I'll just say that he's a little

upper class for 230th street. Second, he's putting the Body builders to shame,

from what I've heard. You know that's no easy feat."

That grabbed Kelvin's attention. Like any other neighborhood

of New York, Central Park was mostly segregated. The 230th street playground

was one of those areas. He'd never heard of anyone outperforming the Body

builders.

"Okay, I'll check it out," promised Kelvin,

"Besides, I need to practice my strength training. Might as well go see what

all the fuss is about.”

Ralph laughed, waving as Kelvin walked off. "You take

care, Kelvin. And don't worry, I know your luck is going to change soon and

they’ll be knocking down your door for an interview!"

"Right. Cya, Ralph," waved Kelvin.

Kelvin started a slow jog as he came up on the

playground.  As soon as it was in sight,