In My Father’s House

by E. Lynn Harris

  I shook my head, watching the hot sun melt my ice cream, which didn’t even look good anymore. “I know, Jah. But you just can’t drop everything and take off every time he calls. What if I need you for something?”

  “You know I’ll do anything for you, B. But you don’t need me.”

  A group of handsome guys walked past. Maybe I could approach them later; they looked like the type that Mitch had mentioned for his Caribbean shoot. “Jah, what if I get a call from a client who wants to book you?”

  Jah whined like a kid being told he couldn’t have his treat. “I thought you said things were slow.”

  I snapped, “They’ll heat back up.”

  “Then just let me know and I’m there, B. I still need to work.”

  “Think about this, Jah. What if you decide you want to go to school this semester, then you don’t want to get far behind?”

  A woman on another bench was checking me out. She was a hot sista in a business suit, clearly on her lunch break, scouting for a man. I smiled back, delighted to serve as her eye candy for the moment.

  “B, I got friends I can get notes from. Maybe even the cute boi who looks at me all the time. I want to tell him he waited too late to make his move. I got a man now.” Jah spoke like he was going to rationalize this situation from every angle to justify his decision to be at Seth’s beck and call across America.

  “Jah, promise me you won’t do anything crazy like dropping out of school or moving without telling me.” I spotted a trio of gangly guys with beautiful chests walking down Lincoln Road with a basketball. I needed to give them a card, but also didn’t want to hang up on Jah, so I watched them as they stopped and did a little window shopping.

  “B, I won’t do anything without telling you. You’ve been good to me and I don’t want you worrying about me.”

  “Well, it’s too late for that.” I dropped my mess of an icecream cone in the garbage. I told myself it was okay because that was several hundred calories less I’d have to think about later on the treadmill. “I always worry about you.”

  “That’s nice to know,” Jah said sweetly.

  The guys started heading away. “Hey, I gotta run. I’m out doing a little scouting and I need to get back to the office.”

  “Okay. Talk to you later.”

  “Okay, do that.”

  I felt nervous, dashing toward the guys, business cards in hand. Sometimes guys thought I was coming on to them and ugly exchanges occurred. Other times, when it was a group, it might be one prized handsome guy hanging out with homely friends. Usually the good-looking one would be skeptical, while the not so attractive ones would have their tongues hanging out at the prospect of modeling. Very rarely would I see a group of three beauties.

  When I got up close to the guys, I heard them talking about how tight the clothes in the window were and how one day they would have money to purchase anything they wanted on Lincoln Road. Out of the side of my eyes, I could see that two of the litter were really handsome. I couldn’t tell about the third one because he was being blocked by the guy in the middle and was a little shorter than the other two.

  “Excuse me,” I said nervously. “Have you guys ever thought about modeling?”

  Two of the guys started laughing while bumping fists with each other. I wondered what was so funny.

  “Dude, stop trippin’,” said the guy closest to me. “So are you gonna tell me you’re some famous photographer who wants to take pictures of us in swimming trunks and maybe some nude shots if we trust you? Man, dudes be coming up to us all the time when we come to this spot. You think we stupid or something?” This guy had an amazing chest with sweat glistening around his lean neck. All three of them exhibited such over-the-top masculinity, they would have been big hits at the party or any sports casting.

  I was all business as I said, “No, I’m not a photographer. But I do own a modeling agency on South Beach and I think all of you guys could model if you wanted to.”

  “No, we can’t,” the guy in the middle said.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “ ’Cause we Panthers.”

  “Panthers?”

  The guys nodded as the middle one said, “Yeah, we play basketball for the FIU Panthers and holding a job is against the NCAA rules. We could lose our scholarships.”

  “Who’s going to tell?” I asked.

  One guy nodded and said, “Dude got a point there. How is anybody going to know? How much does that shit pay?”

  “Depends.”

  “Depends on what?”

  “The job,” I said, envisioning how gorgeous they would look in sportswear, business suits, or casual attire. “Most of my clients go out for one hundred fifty an hour but sometimes you’re paid more for swimwear and underwear jobs.”

  One guy shook his head. “There you go. I knew it was going to get down to us coming out of our clothes. Let me guess. You’re gay, right?”

  I subtly squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, maintaining my business tone of voice. “I have no reason to answer that. I’m offering you a legitimate business opportunity here.”

  “Yeah, dude must be gay,” said the one in the middle with the deep-set hazel eyes. He was by far the most handsome of the three with copper skin and pearly white teeth.

  I handed them my business cards with both my office and cell phone number on them. “Let me give you my cards. Call if you like. Also, I’m sure I can find a way around the rules since this would be considered a part-time job. I’ve had college athletes work for me before. I could also pay you off the books in cash so there wouldn’t be any tracking system. Just think about it.”

  All three took a card, with the handsome one studying it, then looking back at me like he was trying to figure me out. I started to ask his name, but decided against it. If they were interested, somebody would call.

  “Pay in cash?” the gorgeous one asked. “That’s what’s up. And you think we could really do this?”

  “Yes, I do,” I said as I concealed my triumph. I knew I was going to get at least one of them and possibly all three.

  The gorgeous one looked skeptical. “And folks ain’t going to be trying to pull any gay shit on us?”

  I shook my head and said, “That would be sexual harassment and I don’t think any of my clients want a lawsuit from a college basketball star. That wouldn’t be good.”

  The handsome one said, “Sure in the shit wouldn’t be. I’ll sue the shit out of a mofo if they coming asking me something about sucking my dick. Wouldn’t be prudent, if you get my drift.” He gave me a slow once-over. A smile curled the corner of his mouth.

  My business expression masked my certainty that this guy would definitely be calling. “Okay, fellas, I’m going to bounce. Both of my numbers are on the cards. Think about it and give me a call if you change your mind or have any questions.”

  I turned around and walked up Lincoln Road toward Washington Street and my office, knowing I’d just scored at least one new model.

  I decided to cure my wave of anxiety about Jah and Seth by calling Sterling. Maybe he could assure me that everything would be okay. I had saved his number in my phone; he must have done the same because he answered knowing it was me calling.

  “Wow! Is this a surprise,” Sterling said, sounding raspy but glad to hear from me.

  “Hello, Sterling. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “No, matter of fact I just woke up from a nap. What’s going on? You got some hot bois for the next PGC function? I hope so, because you got some hot guys.”

  My tone of voice was all business as I said, “I’m sure I can find you some good guys. Where are you guys going next?”

  He chuckled. “Believe it or not, we’re doing something in D.C., right around the inauguration. We changed our plans. Don’t want to miss history.”

  “I hear that,” I said. “And finding good-looking black men will be real easy, I suspect, in the Chocolate City.”

  It sounded like Sterling was moving a
round. “I hope so. It might be a two- or three-night affair for this party. It’s a little harder finding suitable accommodations, but the Emperor has said that money is no option. That’ll make it easy if I have to outbid somebody.”

  As much as I loved the sound of making more money for the agency and my models, my concern for Jah outweighed that a million times over right now. “I’m sure you’ll find something nice. Sterling, I got a question and I hope you can help me out.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Do you know what Seth’s intentions are with Jah?”

  His voice deepened, sounding annoyed. “Jah? Who in the hell is Jah?”

  I looked at my phone, not really believing that Sterling had forgotten Jah so quickly, considering how he’d drooled over him when we first got to the party.

  “You met him at the party. Remember the young guy that came with me?”

  Sterling’s tone changed to playful. “Oh, yeah, that cutie.” Then he sounded annoyed again. “What do you mean, intentions?”

  I spoke in a way that was not threatening or accusatory. “Jah is still very young and impressionable and I think he’s falling for Seth. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

  Sterling spoke back like I was stupid. “You do know that Seth is married and has a family, don’t you?”

  I knew we were entering into a zone where Sterling would stick to the lie that Seth wasn’t even gay, or if he was, it wasn’t open for conversation. “I know that and I think Jah knows that, but he’s not really paying much attention to that.”

  Sterling spoke as if the conversation were over and not worth having at all. “That’s how the youngsters always do, but I assure you, the Emperor is not about to leave his family or career for any guy. Especially someone like Jah.” Sterling said that as if I had nothing to worry about. But it didn’t make me feel better.

  “Then can you ask Seth to not lead him on? Jah had a rough life for someone so young and he might not take the rejection well.”

  “Look, Bentley,” Sterling snapped, “I understand what you’re saying but I’ve been working for Seth or the Emperor for over five years. One thing he made very clear to me was that he wasn’t paying me for my advice, unless it’s on what place to hold his function. I don’t comment on his life outside his marriage.”

  “Then you have to help me out.”

  “How can I do that?” I heard him clinking around, like a glass on a counter, water running, and a door closing.

  I asked, “Are you the person who makes the reservations or connections when Seth wants to see Jah?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Then when he asks to see Jah, just tell him Jah can’t come, that he has school or something.”

  He made a sound like what I said was ridiculous. “I can’t do that and I don’t always make the reservations. Matter of fact, until I got this call, I didn’t even know Seth had seen the young man since the party. We don’t talk about who he beds.”

  “Could he be serious about Jah?”

  “I doubt it,” Sterling said, sounding resigned to talk to me so that I’d drop it. “This is all a game for Seth and most of the members of PGC. These guys aren’t interested in falling in love with these guys so much as they are in owning them for a minute, then throwing the bois out like soured milk. I thought you knew that.”

  That spiked my urgency to get Jah away from Seth. “Sterling, if you can’t stop it, arrange a meeting for me to sit down and talk to Seth. Maybe I can convince him that doing that to Jah is not a good move.”

  It sounded like Sterling was brushing his teeth, but he stopped to say, “Seth will not talk to you about any relationship, serious or otherwise, that he’s involved in. That’s not going to happen.”

  I refused to hear that. “I can be pretty convincing.”

  “Then you need to convince Jah not to see Seth anymore.”

  Frustration tried to take hold of me. “I’ve tried, but he really thinks they have something special.”

  Sterling spit over the sound of running water. “And right now they might have something going on, but it won’t last for long. Trust me on that, Bentley.”

  My tone was semithreatening as I said, “Okay, if you don’t think you can help me, I’ll have to try something else.”

  “I wish I could be of more help. Will you come to the function in D.C.?”

  My thoughts went on fast-forward as I tried to figure out a plan B for getting Jah away from Seth. “I might. I need to start looking for guys.”

  “Let me know ASAP, because we do have a guy up there that we used before. He supplied us with some pretty hot guys, but I’m sure you can do the same.”

  I had such mixed feelings. Working for the Emperor and Sterling was a great solution to my financial problems, but their party was the root cause of all my worries about Jah.

  “I’ll give it a try,” I said. “Thanks, Sterling. I’ll get back with you in the next couple of days after I have a chance to run a few ads.”

  “Okay, Bentley. I’ll talk with you later.”

  “That’ll work.” I hung up the phone and tried to think up another plan to keep Jah away from Seth. I picked up Jah’s comp card and thought if I sent it to a lot of clients that maybe I could luck up on a modeling campaign that might take Jah out of the city or even the country for a minute. I didn’t think he would turn down a great opportunity because he thought he was falling in love. The problem with that plan was that very few companies, due to the economy, were starting new campaigns. At least not the lucrative kinds that would make Jah miss an opportunity to go wherever Seth instructed him to meet him.

  I thought of one of my clients—Wilson Starks in Chicago—who did a lot of catalogue work for department stores all over the country. Maybe he had something that could take Jah’s attention away from trying to please a sugar daddy.

  In a few seconds, I had him on the phone.

  “Media Works, this is Wilson speaking.”

  “Wilson, how are you, sir?”

  He sounded thrilled to hear from me. “Bentley Dean? Man, I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth. How are you? And why haven’t I heard from you in a while?”

  The last time I saw Wilson was on a shoot with some of my guys. He’d taken me to a really nice restaurant on Michigan Avenue and after a bottle of wine, we ended up in my hotel suite doing the nasty. I was a little tipsy, and the next day regretted the move. I hoped Wilson wasn’t going to hold this against me, but I didn’t want him to think that I was a whore, even though at that point that might have been an accurate description.

  “Just been real busy, Wilson, but that’s no excuse.”

  He sounded relieved. “I thought maybe I’d done something to offend you, man. I like you and enjoy doing business with you.”

  “I feel the same way and I’m sorry for not getting back, but I just got real busy.”

  “No problem. You’re calling me now, so we have a chance to reconnect. When are you coming back to Chicago?”

  I stared at Jah’s picture on his comp card, praying that Wilson might be a solution to all this anxiety I was feeling. “I don’t know, but hopefully real soon, which is one of the reasons why I’m calling.”

  “I’m listening.”

  I sounded all business as I said, “I was just wondering if you had any campaigns, or even just a two-day shoot, where you can use a really hot guy. Matter of fact, you saw him in my book before. You thought he was attractive, but too young.”

  “Hmmm,” Wilson said, as if trying to jog his memory.

  “His name is Jah and you remember, he was the kid from the foster home I told you about. And if you thought he was cute then, you should take a look at him now. He’s turned into quite the young man.”

  Wilson sounded agreeable. “I think I remember him. Send me his comp card. But I can’t promise you anything for sure. Business up here has taken a dive. Even my bigger clients are using stock photos now.”

  I felt hopeful. “I understand, but I might
just need you to create a job, and don’t worry about sending me a check.”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  I sighed. “Wilson, I’ll be real honest with you. I’m trying to keep this young man from making a big mistake. I need to get him out of Miami for a couple of days, even if it ends up costing me money. I think if I tell him he has a chance to shoot with you on something big, he might come to Chicago. I just need a real big distraction.”

  Wilson had a sympathetic tone as he said, “I hear you and I could certainly shoot him. Hey, wait a minute. How does his body look?”

  “Jah has an awesome body,” I said.

  “Cool,” Wilson said. “Send me a couple of recent shots of him in underwear or swimwear. There’s a young man I’m working with here in Chicago who’s doing a line of sexy underwear and swimwear for men. He doesn’t have a lot of money, so he hasn’t been able to get glossy photos of men in his underwear that he can use in his catalogue or on the Net. I think once people see this stuff, it’s going to explode.”

  My voice sounded a little higher, with excitement that perhaps I’d solved the Seth problem. “I can send you a couple of pictures of him as soon as I hang up.” On my computer, I called up some recent shots of Jah that I could easily e-mail to Wilson right away.

  “Okay, do that. I’ll show them to my client and see what he thinks. If he doesn’t like him, maybe we can just make up something to get him here.”

  “Thanks, Wilson. I hope we can make this happen. This means a lot to me.”

  “I hope I can help out, Bentley. Great talking to you.”

  “Same here.” What a relief. And I was glad that Wilson hadn’t broached the subject of when he’d get to see me again.

  A couple of hours later, Wilson called back.

  “Bentley, this is Wilson. Dude, you was right. Oh, boi is hot! I sent his pics to my client and he agrees with me. We want to use him. Will he wear real sexy underwear? And I’m talking sheer and see-through stuff?”

  I chuckled. “He’ll wear whatever you tell him to put on.”

  “Great. How quick can you get him up here?”

  “Is tomorrow soon enough?”