Finding True Love 1

It was Monday of the last week of a six week management training seminar. I was hired during my last year of law school by this large multinational corporation that I had no interest in working at beyond the two year commitment I'd made. After undergrad, I spent two years in the Peace Corps in Africa. The conditions in the village I was assigned to were appalling, but it was the government's consistent trampling of villager's basic rights to health care, water, and the vote that made me truly furious. In response, I went to law school with the intention of doing human rights work and that was still my plan. But $127,613 in debt later, I accepted a management job in this enormous company. They'd not only pay back my loans if I fulfilled my two year commitment, I'd make enough in my salary that if I lived modestly, I could squirrel away close to six figures. I was just shy of 26 and this seemed like an honest bargain.

Ok. So it is the first day of the last week of this management program. And it is the first week for a new group of 25 trainees to start. We are assigned to random groups of five to spend the day in a corporate "team building" activity. I work hard not to roll my eyes. The people leading the seminar are a bit overly enthusiastic for me but I swallow my disdain and am determined to be a good employee and make it through the training.

And then, he walked in. He was a few years older than me—maybe 29 or 30—6'2", a solid 220, dark brown short hair, a short cropped beard, muscular, and fit. He wore a crisp white dress shirt with a t-shirt underneath, dark brown pants and dress shoes—an outfit that could have been JCrew meets Banana Republic. He was handsome in a rugged way, like he could be a model for an outdoors or hunting magazine.

I'm 5'9, 175lbs, in decent shape, light brown hair, a goatee, modestly hairy, and am told I have killer blue eyes. I'm a casual dresser, am a decent combination of introvert and extrovert, smart without being cocky, and a good listener. I've had a nice circle of friends since high school and college and tend to get along with all types of people. I did well in law school and got along well the people in this management program.

His nametag said, "Mack" and we were assigned to the same small group. The other three people—an African American woman named Annie who I had become friendly with during the training; a new woman named Isabelle who was intense and no-nonsense; and one other guy named Damon who seemed like he must have been the president of his fraternity and had a charming—if not slightly annoying—desire for everyone to participate and get along.

I shook Mack's hand and introduced myself, "Adam Miller. Nice to meet you." He smiled and I think I fell into his blue eyes.

His voice was quiet but strong. "I'm Michael Manning, but I go by Mack. Nice to meet you, Adam." He smiled. He was gentle and there was a small glint of sadness in his eyes. I made a note of it to find out later. The other three joined us and we formed a circle of chairs and began one of those "tell me about where you're from, what role you'll have in the company, what ice cream you like," get-to-know-you exercises. I listened to Isabelle, Damon, and Annie, but felt myself leaning in when Mack spoke—partially because he was so intriguing and partly because he spoke so quietly.

"I'm from a small town outside of Madison, Wisconsin. My parents never thought they could have kids. So when I came along when my mom was 45 and my dad was 51—well, I was quite the surprise!" His eyes lit up and we all laughed with him. "My parents worked hard at the Mill in our town. We didn't have a lot, but they raised me to work hard and to stand by your name. I was good in school. There weren't a lot of kids in our neighborhood, so I spent a lot of time alone with my thoughts, reading. I read every book in our library. My momma said that when I was a kid, I would have gobbled them up for dinner if I could. I guess I was just hungry to learn.

"When I was in High School, I played football and wrestled because they said that's how I could get a scholarship to college. But my Junior year, there was an accident at the mill and my dad was hurt—an elevator collapsed and he broke his back. So I went to the mill to work to support my folks and took night classes at the community college. It took a few years and then I enrolled at the UW-Madison and it took a few more, but I got my degree. They came recruiting for this corporate training program and my advisor had me apply. Well, here I am. I feel a bit nervous but I'm a hard worker and I'm glad to meet you all."

I didn't realize that I was staring or that tears were welling up in my eyes until Annie smiled at me and gently suggested I take my turn.

"I'm Adam Miller. I come from a large Jewish family—I'm the second child of five—born in less than seven years—to parents who were children of Holocaust survivors. Family gatherings were anything but quiet! Everyone, it seemed, shouted more loudly than the person next to them and we argued over everything—what to watch on tv, who was clearing the dishes, politics, which of my siblings could make the largest farting noise with their hands in their armpits. To an outsider, it may have seemed like we were the epitome of disfunction. But it was a large extended family full of love and care and commitment to the community. We never had much money—my father worked as a salesman at a women's clothing store and my mother was a bookkeeper for the local elementary school—but we had family. Each week, we gathered on Friday nights, did our Sabbath blessings, ate a festival meal at a beautiful table, and laughed and sang and argued and played Monopoly and Life and other board games. Seven of us lived in an 1,100 square foot house with one bathroom. We argued, we were loud, we always had food on the table, and in my Grandmother's broken Polish, "Der is alvays room at zeh table for one more mouth!" My grandparents and parents and aunts and cousins were all loving and generous.

"Anyway, I went to undergrad, then did the peace corps, then went to law school. I'm hoping that someday, I'll be able to work in international human rights. I'm grateful to meet you all."

Mack was staring at me. I felt the heat of his eyes and knew that my pale skin was turning red. Once again, Annie saved us by thanking everyone for sharing and then launching into directions for the next activity.

Mack and I talked a bit throughout the day, casual conversation, nothing overtly flirtatious. I didn't know if he was even interested in men or not—and while I certainly didn't hide that I dated men, it also wasn't something that I shared casually.

The day ended after a series of scavenger hunts and wall climbing group-bonding activities. Much to Damon's chagrin, our group came in second out of 25. "Only two points from first place," he lamented with a charming smile.

Mack and I, it turned out, both lived in the temporary corporate housing two blocks from the office. We walked back together and the conversation flowed easily, even if Mack—who presented as an alpha but was more shy and reserved in reality—needed me to take the lead in the conversation. We spoke about books and ideas, politics and what it was like growing up as an only child versus growing up in a large family. We agreed we were both dog guys, enjoyed working out, and that he longed to travel—something I had done during the peace corps and hoped to do a lot more of in the future. At one point I asked him if I was talking too much and he looked at me sincerely and with serious eyes, "Oh no. I haven't enjoyed myself this much in ages!" We both laughed. I had no idea if he was interested in men—let alone me—but at the very least, I was enjoying the company of a new friend.

The training week flew by and on Friday, we went out for drinks to celebrate. Mack and his cohort still had five more weeks of training but they came with us.

The bar was loud and had bad music blaring and multiple screens with multiple different sporting events. This was one of those moments where I felt obligated to be social with my colleagues, but this really wasn't my scene. I was never much of a drinker—maybe an occasional glass of wine—and preferred talking over the frenetic screens and what seemed like a meat-market atmosphere. Mack seemed equally unconformable as he nursed his beer in the corner. One of the women from his cohort was clearly hitting on him. He was either oblivious or uninterested.

When she stepped away, I walked over and asked him how it was going.

"Fine, thanks. Donna is real nice," he said over the din of the latest touchdown.

"It seems like she's into you," I commented, trying my hardest to prevent any jealousy from coming out of my mouth.

"Really?" Mack looked utterly surprised.

I smiled, "Yeah. I think she is. Are you interested in her?" I asked tentatively.

Mack suddenly looked panicked. "Naw, we're just friends," he said, and I thought (hoped?) it was to reassure me. "I'm gonna turn in," he said and left the bar.

That weekend, I moved my stuff into my studio apartment—literally across the street. Mack saw me hauling boxes on Sunday morning and offered to help. He was in a short sleeve tank top and his muscular arms—both covered in brilliantly designed tattoos of birds and lions and oceans and mountains—took my breath away. As we carried the boxes up to my apartment, Mack was more animated than I had seen him all week. He'd already been to the gym and to church—and it was only 11am on Sunday morning!

"Adam," he said as the sweat poured off of him as we climbed the stairs of my fifth floor walk up, "I went to church this morning down the block. And the preacher is a woman! There were a lot of folks there and they were singing and she gave this incredible sermon about caring for each other and it was the best church I've ever been to!" You could hear the enthusiasm in his voice. Now—to have a guy who is 6'2", muscular, tattooed, and looks like a long shoreman wax poetic about faith was a site to behold. "Maybe you can come with me sometime..." It wasn't an effort to proselytize—he was sincerely offering to share an experience where he found great joy.

"I'd like that, Mack. The pastor is a real leader in human rights. I've heard her speak before. She's quite impressive. I'd love to go with you," I commented as I got us two glasses of water.

"Yes. It is a wonderful place. When I move my parents here, I'll be sure to take them. My pop will be uncomfortable with a woman preacher because he likes things to be the same. But he won't grumble about it too much. But my momma will just love it!" You could hear the love and respect he had for his parents. And my heart melted a bit. I stared at him.

We stared at one another for long, delicious seconds. I fell into his eyes.

I broke the silence, "Maybe sometime you can join me at my family's for Shabbat dinner? It's loud and chaotic but the food is great and I love the Jewish traditions."

He responded quickly and gently. "Adam, I would love to go sometime! You'll have to teach me a bit. I've never been to a Jewish event before... In fact, you're my first Jewish friend. I hope it's ok I said that." He looked a bit unsure of himself, awkward, and not wanting to say anything that would offend me. I was touched.

"Not a problem at all, Mack. I'll tell you all about it before we go. My family lives about two hours away, so it will need to be a holiday weekend when we can take some time. But they'll love you."

Mack smiled and looked eager. "I'll be sure to get some books to read up before we go." His sincerity was palpable. I was touched.

I smiled as we unloaded my final boxes. It was quiet for a few moments as I stared at all the boxes.

"You ok there Adam?" He asked.

I swallowed my water and smiled. "I'm great, Mack. Thanks for your help."

"I'm happy to help a friend, Adam." Mack was the most sincere, gentle, kind man I'd ever met. It was gonna be a real challenge to keep my feelings in check.

Over the next several weeks, Mack and I continued to walk with each other on the way to the office and we went running after work. The conversation flowed as easily as the silence. We were quickly be coming tight friends. And my feelings grew for him every day.

When his program came to an end, one of their team leads had a barbeque at her house. It was much more pleasant than heading to a bar. Mack invited me along. I had my nephew's birthday party earlier in the day, so I told him I could come but would be late.

When I arrived, the barbeque was in full swing. Mack was out on the back porch. He was dressed in a short sleeve shirt and shorts, holding a beer and smoking a cigar. I felt myself stiffen.

He was so sexy, with tufts of his chest hair peaking out from his shirt as he blew cigar smoke into the air.

"Adam!" He exclaimed when he saw me. "I'm so glad you're here!" He pulled me into a bear hug. I was afraid he'd feel my physical reaction.

"Can I get you a beer? How about a cigar?" He asked.

"I'm good," I smiled. I'd never smoked a cigar, nor cigarettes for that matter. In college, I got a high a few times, but that was it. Still, watching him smoke that cigar made my cock swell in my shorts. He looked like such a stud blowing smoke rings that I couldn't help but stare.

I grabbed a ginger ale and sat down on the deck, talking with a couple colleagues. Annie came over and we talked for awhile. Mack also made his way over and we spend the afternoon laughing about some of the funnier parts of the training. He was a keen observer of people and I could see how he would excel in business because he paid close attention to what made people tick. He was moving into his new place the next week and was ready to get to work.

It was a fun barbeque and I felt a bit melancholy as it grew dark and people started to leave. Mack offered to drop me off at my place (I'd gotten a ride from another co-worker). Annie looked at me—I was supposed to get a ride home with her—and responded before I could, "That would be great Mack. I'm gonna stay here and help clean up."

I'd have to thank her in the morning.

Mack wanted to show me his new place—a block from mine. It was in a new building with an elevator. "I plan to move my folks her once I get settled," He said. "I found this place because it will work with my dad's wheelchair and is close to the open air market for my mom to walk to. It's more expensive than some of the other places, but I figured my folks could have their own place but I'd still be in the building. Plus, they have a good gym, so I don't need to pay for that. And well, I need the gym." He smiled.

"Oh," he said as we entered his one bedroom apartment, "I got these books so I can prepare for dinner with your family. Shabbat sounds really great!" There were two books on Jewish traditions and the Sabbath. He'd read them already. I was really touched.

"Wow, Mack. That's really incredible. Thank you," I wanted to hug him. Instead, I told him that I was tired and needed to get home. He looked a little sad as he closed the door behind him. That night, in the shower, I jerked off imagining kissing him and making love with him. I thought of him as I fell asleep.

The next day, I met Annie for lunch at the office cafeteria.

As we dove into our salads, Annie looked at me. "At some point, you need to tell him," she said staring at me over lunch the next day.

"Tell him what?" I asked confused.

"C'mon honey. You need to tell Mack that you're hopelessly, madly, passionately, deeply in love with him."

I slumped down in my chair and felt tears well up in my eyes.

There was no denying it. I love him. I loved him fiercely.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked.

"Only to me," she said as she put her hand on mine. "But I watch how you light up when he's in the room, how you lean in when he talks, how... unbelievably happy you are when he's around. I can smelly the happiness," she said. "And the sexual tension," she threw her head back and laughed as she grabbed my hand.

Just then Mack walked into the cafeteria. I looked away to clear my eyes. He had looked like he was coming over but then turned abruptly.

"Mack," I called.

He kept walking.

"Mack," I called again as a caught up to him.

"Hey buddy, what's going on?" I asked.

"You and Annie?" He asked quietly and with a pained look on his face as we walked to one of those garden areas they have inside corporate buildings to make you feel better about destroying the planet. He looked as if he were about to cry.

"Me and Annie what?" I asked confused.

He took a deep breath. "She was holding your hand," he said so quietly I could barely hear him. "Are you two...?" He couldn't even finish the question.

Mack thought Annie and I were together! He was jealous!

I started to laugh. He looked horrified. Which made me laugh harder.

"What's so funny?" he asked looking irritated.

I stopped laughing and put my hand on his. The electricity was intense. I could tell he felt it, too.

"Mack, Annie was holding my hand, comforting me. She's my friend. Only my friend. She was reassuring me that I could find the strength to tell someone really special how I felt about him."

Mack looked away for a moment. He often took an extra second to process things—almost like he didn't trust himself to believe his first instinct.

He turned back to face me. "You said, 'him.'"

I nodded gently and I started to shake.

"I did Mack. I met a really special guy about six weeks ago and I've developed really strong feelings for him and I wasn't sure how to tell him. So Annie was encouraging me to tell him how I feel." I gulped as he held my hand.

"Him. You." I looked into his eyes and he stared so intensely I thought I might pass out.

"You like me? Me?" He almost shouted it. I prayed it was because he was enthusiastic.

He moved in and hugged me and held me close. Breathing him in, I couldn't believe this was actually happening. I heard him sniffle a bit. Being almost half a fit shorter than him, my head fit nicely against his chest, just below his chin.

"Mack, are you ok? Is this ok?" I asked, nervous.

He looked startled. His eyes were misty. "Ok Adam? Better than ok. I've never really been with anyone, so I don't know how this is supposed to work. In high school, I had strong feelings about a guy I wrestled with. But he got married right after high school. And there hasn't been anyone since..." His voice trailed off... "I get hit on a lot by women but it just never felt right... And now I'm spending all this time with you and everything feels so good... but I didn't want you to get the wrong impression and I respect you as my friend so much that I wouldn't ever do anything to—"

I leaned over and kissed him. Gently, tenderly, but with confidence and determination.

As our heads parted, he smiled. "Adam, today is my 28th birthday. That was my first kiss."

I smiled. "I'm happy to give you your first kiss of your 29th year."

Mack shook his head. "No Adam," he said as his ears reddened. "That was my first kiss. Ever."

Wow.

My heart swelled. I leaned in again and kissed him on his forehead. "There's a lot more where that came from." I blushed. So did he. I stared into his eyes. They were blue fire. My heart melted.

I cleared my throat. "Tonight, Mack, I'd like to take you to dinner to celebrate your birthday. Would you go on a date with me?" I had never been so nervous in my entire life. It felt as though my entire future were tangled up with that question.

Mack looked down. He sighed. And he looked back up. "I'd love to go with you, Adam. Nothing would make me happier. But..." his voice trailed off. He spoke so quietly I had to lean in to hear him. "I've never been on a date before." He blushed.