Offices of F. Leigh Braxton, III, P.A., FACS on the 15th floor of the JDB Building, Downtown Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Friday early afternoon, January 8, 2016
Benjamin Orsini looked up from the computer in his cubicle into the handsome face of Dr. F. Leigh Braxton, FACS, a world class, board certified plastic surgeon, and the man he had idolized for two years. As Dr. Leigh’s head surgical nurse, he got to see the big man in many illuminating circumstances, unfortunately most of them medical emergencies. He would love to be illuminated by something more personal, but Dr. Leigh had been in a committed relationship that had seemed solid until just recently.
Apparently the good doctor and his live-in guy, Nixon Jones, had recently broken up. Brax and Nix? Was that just too cute? He would rather hear Brax and Ben, but that probably wasn’t going to happen. Too bad. He thought they would make a dynamite pair. Ben was short and dark and Leigh was tall and blond. Leigh’s lanky runner’s body was panther sleek and well-muscled, and his face was gorgeous with sharp planes and angles. His powerful body emphasized his calm, self-assured manner and gentle voice. He inspired confidence in his team and patients.
“Hey, Ben. Can you have lunch with me today? I have something I want to talk to you about.”
Who me? “Sure. What time?”
“How about if we leave here a little before twelve. I’ll drive. Is the Wilton Park Grand Hotel all right? I haven’t been there in a while.”
“That would be great.” Ben had heard about the luxurious gay boutique hotel in Wilton Park. He’d never been there himself. It was on the pricy side for getaway weekends. It was also a bit too far away to cruise over for lunch although he had thought of that a couple of times. He was usually not available for happy hours due to his work schedule.
Ben went back to work entering the notes from Dr. Leigh’s latest surgery into the records. The bread and butter of their practice was still breast augmentation and other cosmetic procedures, but when he had started to work with Dr. Leigh, Ben had been impressed by the amount of pro bono work he did. Maxillofacial surgeries, the repairing of cleft lips and palates, was his specialty, and he never charged for work done on infants and children whose parents couldn’t afford it. He was also on call for reconstruction cases and emergencies. Sometimes Ben wondered what deep well of emotional and physical energy he tapped into.
Just before noon Dr. Leigh looked over the wall of his cubicle. “Hey, ready to go?”
“Yeah, just let me save this.” He proceeded to update his document before they headed down the fifteen floors to the top level of the parking garage. Dr. Leigh’s red Ferrari Testarosa reposed in his reserved parking space. It was a few years old but still a wet dream. Boob and booty lifts paid very well. Leigh beeped the car open and Ben slid into the passenger seat. The intimate cockpit smelled of Italian leather and Leigh’s aftershave. Ben thought he would pass out.
“So, Dr. Leigh, what did you want to talk to me about? You have piqued my curiosity.” And it was true. They had never socialized before except for office functions like the Christmas party.
“Call me Leigh or Brax when we’re not in the office or the surgical suite. Dr. Leigh is a little formal for a social lunch.”
“Uh, okay. Leigh. What’s up?”
“I’ve been thinking about something for a while, and I wanted to get your opinion. Let’s wait until we’re at the hotel.”
Now Ben was really curious. What could it be that he couldn’t just spit out? Don’t get your hopes up, buddy. It won’t be something personal. Unfortunately!
* * * *
On the outdoor dining patio at The Wilton Park Grand Hotel, Wilton Park, Florida, Friday noon, January 8, 2016
Leigh Braxton could see that Ben was brimming over with curiosity. He had to admit that he got a kick out of pulling Ben’s tail. His head surgical nurse could be a bit brash and insubordinate at times, but Leigh had never worked with a better nurse. Sometimes he thought that Ben could almost read his mind. He never put his hand out for an instrument without finding it already there and waiting for him. The smaller man had an unlimited supply of energy and optimism. He was never too tired or worn out to come back in for an emergency procedure. There was just something about the small, dark-haired man with the perfectly symmetrical features and lightly muscled body. Leigh had sometimes thought….well never mind. He was still getting over his nasty break-up with Nix. And that hadn’t been pretty.
Leigh pulled into the parking lot at the Wilton Park Grand Hotel, a gay boutique hotel located in Wilton Park, a predominantly gay community near Fort Lauderdale. The WPG had rapidly become one of the premier places to see and be seen in the Fort Lauderdale LGBT community. Leigh and Nix had enjoyed several weekend getaways at the great little hotel composed of all suites, each decorated in a different style. And some of the suites had definitely been off the wall like the 1950’s suite decorated in all mid-century kitsch including lava lamps and canvas boomerang chairs. Leigh had particularly enjoyed the Casbah Harem Suite and the English Country House Suite which both boasted small, private BDSM dungeons.
Jack Brown, the owner of The Black Iris Club that Leigh belonged to as a Dom had suggested he check it out when it had been picked up as a side deal with the purchase of The Black Dahlia Hotel on Fort Lauderdale Beach. Leigh had been happy to be able to get in on Brown’s investment group which had converted the Black Dahlia into a BDSM hotel. The WPG, a small jewel of a property, had been a great extra benefit to the main transaction. The décor was trendy and classy, and the atmosphere was cool, relaxing, and hip. Of course the food and drinks were excellent. The restaurant, bar, and outdoor terrace dining provided the opportunity to people watch as interesting, affluent gay couples passed through the lobby.