The Light in Your Eyes
By Tinnean
Chapter 9
Author’s
Note: The song Wills
is singing in the shower is “Isn't It Romantic?” by Rodgers and Hart.
That dinner was just the first.
He took me to fancy restaurants
like Raphael's, where he'd wear a Bill Blass Glen Plaid suit, a cream linen
shirt, and a red tie, and I'd be hard the entire time, my mouth watering from
the thought of what was waiting for me beneath that suit, or to family-style
places like Ruby Tuesdays and TGI Fridays, where he'd wear more casual clothes,
and I'd be just as hard, and my mouth would water just as much.
We went to the movies. He bought me a tub of buttered
popcorn and a box of Junior Mints, and had his arm around me the entire time. I
was kind of surprised that no one ever gave us a hard
time about it, even when we went to see movies that had a lot of explosions and
fast cars and macho tough guys running around with big guns.
He brought me little things, a CD by an artist he'd learned I liked, a book I'd mentioned wanting to read,
software for my computer…
For the first time in my life – for the very first
time in my life – I felt like someone considered me his … boyfriend.
****
Spike and I were in Paul's hospital room. We were hoping
to talk to his doctor to find out if there was a time frame
for when we could expect to bring him home.
Vincent was there too. He'd been
to see him every evening. On the tray table was a box that had held a pizza. It
was probably against hospital rules, but Paul had groused
he was desperate for real food, and so Vince had brought it to him. He'd only been able to eat a single slice, but Spike and I
and even Vince had taken care of the rest. All that was left
in there now were a few smears of sauce
Vince's cell phone rang. "Vincent. Yes?" He
grinned, and when he closed his phone, he said, "Matheson is coming
up."
My heart skipped a beat – it fucking skipped a beat! – at the thought of seeing him again so soon.
"Oh, yeah? Cool." I tried to be
nonchalant about it. The previous night had been one of the rare times he'd slept over. Even though it was the weekend, Vince had
called and told him to come in, and I'd driven him to
work that morning.
Vince regarded me with a raised eyebrow, but he didn't say anything. "Isn't Entertainment Tonight on?" Paul reached for the remote and
clicked it on. Mary Hart sat across from Bob Goen,
her current co-host, and they chatted about a movie that was
being made in conjunction with the military. They'd
be interviewing the star as soon as they came back from the commercial break.
"I swear that woman still has the most gorgeous legs on TV."
Eventually Wills sauntered in. God, he was gorgeous. And he was mine! His hair was gelled back. Wearing jeans and
a GWU sweatshirt, he looked
like a college freshman. My mouth went dry, and I swallowed. Those
jeans – 501s that were faded to almost white in spots, hugged his hips and
thighs like a second skin. Were they as snug over his ass? I was tempted to
turn him around just to see.
I touched my tongue to my upper lip, and he watched my
mouth. If I came up with an excuse to get him in the bathroom, would the others
in the room realize it was because I wanted to fuck him?
A resident came in just then. "Excuse me, gentlemen,
but I’ll need you to leave for a few minutes. I’m going to check Mr. Stark’s dressing
and chest tube."
We went out into the corridor, but before I could ask
Wills if he wanted to join me in the men's room, Vincent said, "Matheson. With me."
I stared after them as they walked down the corridor.
What was that about? Well, Vince was his boss.
And yeah, those jeans were just as
snug over Wills' ass.
"You've got it bad," Spike whispered.
"What are you talking about?"
"I've seen the way you look at him." For Spike,
normally oblivious as only a teen could be, to notice, I must have been very obvious.
"Uh… "
"I think it's cool. You need someone to care
about."
"I care about Paul and you."
"You know what I mean. And Mr. Matheson cares about
you too."
"Oh, yeah? You think so?"
His expression became exasperated. "Sweets, I've
seen the way he looks at you!"
"Really?"
"Yes, really. Geez,
for the brains of this outfit, you can sure be dense sometimes. Come on. I want
to see if the nurse can tell us when Paul can come home."
"Resident, Spike."
"Whatever."
Paul was a little shaky after the exam, and Spike went to
him, taking his hand and petting his arm.
The resident straightened his sheet. "Your tube is
still draining, Mr. Stark, but your vitals are stable, and I'm sure your doctor
will be very pleased with your progress." Paul gave a tight nod, and she
eyed him thoughtfully. "Be sure to ring if you need anything. Good
evening, gentlemen."
Vince went to Paul's bedside. "I have to leave,
Pretty Boy. I’ll be in sometime tomorrow to see you, but I have plans for the
afternoon, so I'll probably be in late."
"No, Vince, that's okay. You've
been taking care of so much, it's all right if you miss a day. If there's anything I can do to repay you… Thank you. Thank
you!"
"You're welcome. If you really want to do something
for me, keep an ear out for a vacant apartment. That fuck of a complex manager
is throwing me out!"
"I should have realized you'd need to look for
another apartment. They get kind of testy when you blow up their rentals!"
Paul laughed at the expression on Vince's face. He'd told us it hadn't been his
fault that the bastard who'd hurt Paul, doing it as a ruse to get Vince away
from his apartment so he could search it – a ruse, goddammit! I was glad the fucking bastard had blown himself
to kingdom come – had caused the explosion when he'd
tried to get in. Still, as landlords, we could kind of
sympathize with the manager. "Your old apartment above us is for rent
again, if you want to take it for a while."
"It's empty, or are you going to evict
someone?"
Just before Paul had wound up in the hospital, the artist
who'd taken over the attic apartment had packed her
bags and taken off in the middle of the night while we'd all been out working,
leaving a note under the door, telling us she'd been offered the opportunity to
go to
"It's empty. It'll just
take some time to get it in shape again… "
Wills blinked and glanced at me, his eyebrow raised. I
murmured, "We own the building. One of our clients was in stocks, and he
got us some great tips." I didn't mention other
tips we'd gotten, not all monetary.
"You have money?"
"Some. I mean, we're not Trump, or anything, but we
do pretty good."
"Yeah." He got that cold, flat
expression in his eyes. I'd seen that look in Vince's
eyes once or twice. Did all people who worked for Huntingdon learn that look?
"Mr. Vincent, is it all right if I leave now?"
What the… What bug had crawled up his ass
and died?
"No. Spike and Sweetcheeks
will need a ride home."
Wills nodded, but I could see how… reluctant he was to
stay. I touched his sleeve, but he stared at me as if I were something that had
crawled out from under a rock and jerked his arm away from me.
Vince didn't seem to notice.
"I'll most likely accept your offer, Pretty Boy. It took me a long time to
find what I was looking for the first time. And DC is
even more crowded now. I want to stop at my place and pack some things. You
have my number if you need me. Matheson. Why don't you
display your booty?"
"Excuse me?"
His face turned red.
My thoughts went in the same direction as his. He had a
very nice booty.
He cleared his throat. "Oh, you mean what I
bought." He'd arrived carrying bags from
Vincent's mouth quirked in a grin, and he walked out.
Spike and Paul were grinning too, but I was too upset
with Wills to see anything funny in this situation. He knew I was a rentboy. It wasn't something I
felt I could keep from him, but he'd seemed cool with it. Why was he…
"Excuse us a minute, guys." I shoved him into
the bathroom. "Okay, Wills, what's got your shorts in a twist? I thought
you were okay with my profession."
"If you really had to sell your tail to survive, I
could accept it, really I could! I wouldn't like it,
but… " This time the look in his eyes was
resentful. "Look. This is my problem. Just give me some space. I need a
couple of days to deal with it, okay?"
It hit me. He thought that while he was court… seeing me,
I was still peddling my ass. No wonder he'd looked at
me as if I were lower than a worm.
"No. It's not just your
problem, I won't give you any space, and it's not okay. It bothers you that
much that I do this? Fine.
I'll stop." I had been putting off clients since I'd
met him anyway, using the excuse of Pretty Boy being in the hospital and turfing those who couldn't or wouldn't wait to another of
the stables.
Wills obviously hadn't expected
the conversation to take that turn. "Just like
that?"
"No, not just like
that." He'd have to ask me. I waited to see if he would get it. I
could tell the exact moment when the light went on. A slow smile crossed his
face, and the expression in his eyes lightened.
"Theo. I don't want you to
hustle any more. Would you please stop?"
"Yes." I kissed him, sealing the deal. "I
want you to know something. I haven't seen anyone else
since I started seeing you, and I never…
" The sensation of the slight stubble of
his evening beard as he grazed up and down my throat was driving me crazy.
"… oh, god, that feels good, Wills!" What
was I going to tell him? It was something important, but he was distracting
me... Oh, yeah. "I never kissed any of
them."
"Really? Good. Otherwise I'd have had to
go find them and kill them." I froze until he leaned back, cupped my
cheek, and grinned at me.
Of course. He was just kidding.
****
"I need to stop off at my place first, Theo. Do you
mind?"
"Ooo! Cool!" Spike was in the
back seat of the Dodge Wills drove. Something else that was nothing special.
"Did you forget we had company?" I asked
softly.
"It's really not much to look at, Spike. Maybe you'd
rather wait in the car?"
"Is Sweets going to wait in the car too?"
"No."
"Not a chance, then!" Spike snorted. "I've
been dying to see what your apartment looks like anyway."
"I can't imagine why."
I'd wanted to see it myself.
"We can always lock him in the bathroom."
"No. I'd know he was there,
listening. It would throw me off my game."
I patted his thigh, trailing my fingers toward the vee that was bulging nicely. "I guess we'll just have
to practice a little delayed gratification."
"That's been vastly overrated, you know that? And if
you don't want me to wreck the car, you'd better take your hand off my
thigh."
His apartment was in a nothing special
building in a nothing special section of DC, but rents were high no matter
where you lived in the Capital. I wondered how Wills could afford it.
There was no doorman. Wills took
a key from his pocket and unlocked the entrance door. "I'm up on 8."
"We're not taking the stairs again, are we?"
Spike asked.
Wills sighed. "We really should."
I pushed him toward the elevator. "We're riding up,
tough guy."
"What the hell. It's my
building. It should be safe enough."
Safe enough?
I didn't question him about it
though. It probably had something to do with the gun he usually carried, which
was something else I wasn't going to question him
about. After I'd finally remembered to ask him about
that gun, he'd got that flat look. 'You know I troubleshoot computers, right?
Well, it's to shoot the trouble right out of the computers.'
'Geez, Wills,' I'd complained. 'If you didn't want to tell me, all you had
to say was you didn't want to tell me.'
That look left his face, and he'd
just grinned and kissed me.
We got in the elevator. Spike stared up at the digital
read out and watched the floor numbers change.
Wills and I stared at each other's mouths. If Spike hadn't been with us, I'd have shoved him into a corner and
taken possession of those lush lips of his. Wills touched his tongue to his
lips, and I knew he was thinking the same thing.
The elevator gave a slight jolt as it came to a halt on 8, and the doors slid open. He led us down the corridor to a
door that looked like every other door. It opened directly into his living
room.
"I'll…uh… I'll just be a minute," he said after
he let us in and switched on the light.
"No rush."
He disappeared through a door that must have opened into
his bedroom. If I went into that room with him, I knew I'd
have him on his bed, even if Spike was within hearing distance.
I turned my attention to the living room. There wasn't much in it – a loveseat opposite a TV on a cheap
stand, an end table with some framed photos on it.
"Who're these, Wills?"
"Who?"
"The pictures."
"Oh. Family."
There was a couple with their arms around a younger
Wills, who was wearing a cap and gown. The woman was too young to be his
mother, but the man had to be his father. I saw Wills in him.
In the center was a more recent photo of his family, all
playing in a pool: Wills, his father and the woman,
and two kids. They both had the woman's coloring, and the boy had her looks as
well, but the little girl, who was sitting on a laughing Wills' shoulders, one
hand clutching his hair while the other was over his eyes, showed me what a
daughter of his might one day look like.
That picture devastated me. As a bisexual, he could one
day move on, marry, and have children. I'd never have
that.
I also had no pictures of me with my family, although
Acacia had sent me a wallet-sized high school graduation photo. She'd sent me an invitation to her graduation as well, but
there was no way I could have gone.
Another graduation photo was off to the side, a young man
who had a discontented droop to his mouth. I wondered who he was, and what he
was to Wills.
The picture beside that was of a pair of cats, one calico
and one with the coloring of a Siamese. I didn't know
much about cats, but I could tell it wasn't a Siamese.
I picked up the final photo. It was of Wills and another
young man. They were shaking hands, and Wills had his hand on the other man's
shoulder. Both dressed in tuxedoes with boutonnieres of plump red rosebuds,
they looked enough alike to be related, but it was Wills who drew my attention.
There was just something about a man wearing a tux. My
mind flashed ahead to the next Escort Ball. I was no longer an escort, but…
"He cleans up good!" Spike whispered, peeking
over my shoulder.
"Yeah. He does." I put the picture
frame down. "I'll put your leftovers in the fridge, okay, Wills?" I
called.
"Thanks, babe. That'll save me some time."
I took the bag and went to explore the kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a small breakfast bar.
A plain white coffee mug was on the plain white dish
rack. The sink was empty and wiped dry. The cabinet above the counter held a
few dishes and glasses, and the drawer below a few place settings of flatware.
The fridge was small, with the freezer compartment on top. There were a variety of frozen dinners in it. In the fridge itself was a plastic bottle of milk, a container of
orange juice, half a dozen eggs, and a few bottles of beer, as well as a pizza
box and some Styrofoam takeout containers. I put the container from B. Smith's
next to them.
"All set." Wills appeared in the living room,
slightly out of breath. He was still wearing those 501 jeans, and I couldn't wait to get him out of them. "Ready
to go?"
"Oh, yeah."
****
I was surprised at how often Wills came by after work,
often not even stopping at his apartment to change. Sometimes I'd make him dinner, sometimes we'd go out, but always after
we would have sex. He'd catch forty winks – I loved
watching as he slept in my arms; he had the thickest, softest hair – and then
he'd dress, kiss me goodnight, and drive himself home.
"Babe," I said one night as he was getting back
into that nothing special suit, "wouldn't it be
easier if you left from here in the morning?"
He paused, the ends of his ordinary tie in each hand.
"Are you asking me to… "
"Leave a change of clothes, okay? I have spare
hangers in my closet, and I can make some space in a drawer for socks and
underwear. What do you say?"
"Sure, Theo." His smile was crooked, and he
went back to knotting his tie. "That sounds like a good idea."
He didn't stay over very often
though. I liked when he did. Making breakfast in the morning,
having it with him at the breakfast table... It felt domestic.
This was one of those nights. "That son of a bitch
took my parking spot again," he groused after I'd
opened the door for him and he'd kissed me.
"I hope you didn't have to park six blocks away
again."
"Nah. There was a space a few doors
down. Someone else will have to park six blocks away." He hung his jacket
in the closet, took off his shoulder holster and wrapped it around his gun and
placed it on the upper shelf, then loosened his tie and helped me set the
dining room table.
I was determined to dazzle him with my culinary brilliance,
and I'd made dinner for him, one of my mother's
recipes. He ate with obvious enjoyment.
"Can you stay over tonight, baby?" I asked as
we brought the empty dishes into the kitchen.
"You'll have to set the alarm. Tomorrow's a work
day."
"That works for me." I finished putting the
dishes in the dishwasher. I'd been thinking about this
for some time. I loved fucking him, but… I licked my lips. "How would you
feel about… "
"Watching some TV, popping some popcorn?"
I smiled at him. "That wasn't exactly what I had in
mind."
"Oh, no?" He gave me the grin that always
did funny things to my insides. "What did you have in mind? As if I didn't know." His hands went to his collar, and
he began unbuttoning his shirt.
"Fuck me, babe!"
Wills looked surprised. I'd
always fucked him, and he seemed happy with that, but we'd been seeing each
other for a few weeks now, a long time in rentboy
terms, and I wanted this. Okay, I wanted to show off a little too, wanted him
to know how good I was, why I brought down the big bucks.
He backed me against the sink, his hands going from my
waist to my hair. "Are you… are you sure?"
I stroked his cheek. He needed to shave, but I wasn't going to interrupt the moment to tell him that.
"I'm sure, baby."
He ran his fingers through my hair. "You'll tell me
if I do something you don't like?"
"You'll be the first to know."
He kissed me. He tilted my head first one way, then the
other, for the first time becoming really aggressive.
I shivered and sank into the kiss.
"Babe. Oh, babe."
He buried his face against the side of my neck. "I… "
"Let's get naked." I tried to step around him,
but his arms tightened around me for a long second. "Wills?"
"Yeah." He let me go, his eyes bright
and excited.
I yanked my shirt off, not even bothering with the
buttons, and tossed it aside.
Wills' tie and shirt joined it.
Paul was still in the hospital, and Spike was with him. I
laughed to myself. If Spike decided to come home tonight, he'd
find a trail of clothes leading from the kitchen down the hallway to my
bedroom.
I turned down the bed, stacked pillows in the center, and
draped myself over them. I spread my legs and glanced at him over my shoulder.
The skin over his cheekbones was tight, colored with a flush. "Don't keep
me waiting, baby."
Wills took his time preparing me, in spite of me urging
him to speed things up. He rolled on the condom himself. He had a nice-sized
cock, good length and girth. He positioned his cock at my hole, there was the
briefest resistance, and then he slid all the way into me.
I wished he didn't need to wear
a condom. I'd always tested clean, but after realizing
the risks I'd taken before arriving in DC, I'd never again been tempted to not
use a condom. The thought of … of my lover taking me bareback drove me closer
to the edge. Maybe in a few months…
He talked to me and stroked and
petted me, and I wondered foggily if he was trying to shove out all the other
men who'd ever been in bed with me, to make sure I knew who was fucking me.
I'd been fucked since I was fifteen,
by more men then I sometimes could remember. Why was it that this felt so
different?
"Come for me, Theo," he whispered, his voice a
hoarse cross between a growl and a groan, his breath warm in my ear.
I never came without touching myself. That was something
that hadn't happened since the first night when I'd
been with Franky.
But this time I did. He couldn't catch it all, and it splattered over my chest and
abdomen.
After he came, he disposed of the condom, then turned me
over and licked me clean.
When the aftershocks subsided and I finally caught my
breath, I managed to say, "That was great, Wills! You were great!"
I could feel his smile against my collarbone.
We fell asleep. He was draped
over me like a blanket, and although we may have moved in our sleep, we stayed
wrapped around each other.
Sometime in the early hours of the morning, I woke to
find him making love to me again, this time face to face. "I like it like
this, babe," he whispered. "I like being able to look in your eyes."
He lowered his head at the same time I arched mine up, and our lips met. Our
lovemaking was slow and languid, with none of the earlier frenzy, and this
time, when we fell asleep, he was still buried deep
inside me.
Wills was up before the alarm went off. He was quiet,
rising to use the bathroom, but without him in my arms, I woke up anyway.
I could still feel what he'd
done to me, and if he'd been a paying customer, I would have cheerfully
refunded his money and tipped him as well.
The shower went on, and I heard Wills
singing, one of those standards he seemed to like so much. I hear the breezes playing in the trees
above, While all the world is saying you were meant
for love.
What would it be like to have him always here, wake every
morning to the sound of the shower running and my lover…
My lover. I stroked his pillow, bringing
it to my face to inhale his scent, a combination of his aftershave and him.
He came out of the bathroom, a towel around his hips, and
I wanted to strip it off, tumble him back onto the bed, and take him into my
body again.
He needed to get ready for work, I reminded myself.
"Tell me something, babe? How'd you get that bullet
scar on your butt?"
He had other scars as well, a long, curved one on his
back, the one on his calf. When I'd asked about them,
his face had got that closed off look for a second, but then it had vanished so
fast I wasn't sure I had seen it. 'Car accident, babe.'
And he wouldn't say anything else about it.
I wasn't sure if he would tell
me about the scar on his butt, but he laughed softly.
"I didn't think my question was particularly
funny."
"I'm sorry. It's just... it
isn't a bullet scar. It's from a nail gun."
"Yeah, that was my reaction. I worked construction
during summer vacations until I graduated from college." He'd fixed the damage in the attic apartment and did some
additional wiring, the job so professional that the electrician I'd called in
to make sure it was up to code had been impressed.
Wills had worn those 501 jeans, a black tee shirt, and a
tool belt. I'd taken one look at his ass as he went up
to the attic, and I'd gone back into the apartment for a condom and a tube of
lube. Then I'd gone upstairs, unbuckled the tool belt,
lowered the jeans, and fucked him over a stool.
I shivered from the remembered heat of the act, of the
moment.
Wills dropped the towel and began to dress.
"Mmm, so that's how you
got these nice muscles!" I draped myself over his back, nuzzling and
nibbling my way across the firm flesh.
"Right."
"Tell me about it?"
He grinned and shrugged. "It was my uncle's company,
and all the cousins worked for him when we needed spending cash. This happened
just before the start of my sophomore year in college. Uncle Jake won the bid
on a single-family housing development, and we were framing out the first six
houses that were going up. My cousin Harry thought I was paying too much
attention to the girl who was running the electrical wire, so..."
"A girl, Wills?"
"Well, yeah. Uncle Jake was an equal opportunity
employer. Didn't matter if you were male or female. As
long as you could do the job, you had the job."
"That's nice, babe, but what I meant was… you dated girls?"
"Yep."
Well, of course he'd dated
girls. He was bisexual. I'd had bisexual johns who'd
been seeing women at the same time they were seeing me.
"Um… do you still date girls?" I was stunned to
hear the words come out of my mouth. I never questioned a john about his
private life, but that was the problem. Wills wasn't a
john. He was a… a boyfriend. Aside from those couple of months when I'd first lived with Franky, I'd
never had a boyfriend, and I had no idea how to act in a relationship.
"Theo, in case it escaped your notice, I'm dating
you right now."
Yeah, he was. Stop making waves, you idiot! Wills wanted to be
exclusive with me. I dropped the subject.
"You'll come by for dinner?" I asked as he was
about to walk out the door.
"If I can. I'll call, okay?" He came
back and kissed me.
****
I couldn't remember being so
happy. Instead of going back to bed as I would have
B.W., Before Wills, I went into the bathroom and showered. It was still humid
from his shower, and the moisture seemed to wrap around me. I adjusted the
showerhead, leaned against the tiled wall, and let the water mist down on me. I
stroked my cock, imagining it was his hand on me, his cock
and not my finger in me.
My orgasm wasn't nearly as
shattering as the two I'd had the night before, but Wills would be back
tonight, and then we'd do it again.
I finished showering and as I
dried off, I decided today would be a good day to have my torso waxed. It had been a while, and Wills
would be bound to notice the stubble growing out, if he hadn't
already. Very observant was my Wills.
I laughed at how besotted I was, but I loved it. I…
loved… him.
I practically danced down the stairs. While I was at it,
I decided to pick up a nice rib roast for dinner, and a red wine. And fresh vegetables. And some
flowers. Most of the spring flowers were in bloom, and there was a little florist
just down the street from the supermarket.
A few hours later, my chest and ass smooth and my arms
filled with grocery bags, I let myself back into the apartment.
It was empty. Spike must still be at the hospital. I'd have to bring him a change of clothes if he was going to
stay there again tonight.
Wills and I would have the apartment to ourselves.
I went into the kitchen to put the roast in the fridge
and the wine on the counter – it would go in the fridge to cool just before
dinner – and put the tulips and daffodils in a vase to be
arranged later. The message light on the answering machine was blinking,
and I pressed the button.
"Hi, Theo. It's me." My heart did that
beat skipping thing again at the sound of my lover's
voice. "Um… I can't make it tonight. I'll call
you, okay?"
Well, he'd had to cancel before.
It was no biggie. But why hadn't he called my cell
phone? I pulled it out. Damn. The battery needed to be
recharged. I plugged it in and called Wills.
I got his machine. "This is Matheson. You know the
drill. Go." He sounded so macho, and I shivered.
"Hi, babe, it's me. Damn, I guess I missed you. Give
me a call when you get this, okay?"
Paul was going to be discharged
from the hospital in a couple of days. I'd make the
roast for him and get another when Wills called.
****
I called Wills when Paul came home to let him know. I got
his machine again. "This is Matheson. You know the drill. Go."
"Wills? It's me. Theo. You're still not home? Call me, will you?"
****
One morning at breakfast, while I was brooding over the
fact that Wills still hadn't called, Paul looked
across the table at me, stirring his coffee.
"Sweets, we need to talk. Spike's
been turning down 'dates' every night for the last three weeks… "
I'd noticed the youngest rentboy's roots had been growing out, but hadn't thought to
say anything about it.
"… and I haven't been well enough to
work." He still tended to favor his left side. "Too much of this has
been falling onto your shoulders."
"Uh… actually, I haven't seen any of my regulars
either. I kind of… er… uh…
I've been taking a sabbatical."
"You thinking of taking
Vince's advice?" Paul and I had often talked about getting out of the business but
had never had the impetus to do anything about it.
"Yeah. Listen, Paul,
why don't you finish breakfast, and I'll pull up our accounts online, and we'll
see where we stand."