Chapter Four
ON THE next day and for the next week, with the hope that he would run into Peter again, Alec went to Cuppa Java Coffee every chance he got, but Peter was nowhere to be seen. A voice in Alec’s head nagged him to call Peter, but he was still not sure if he was ready to face the humiliation if it turned out that Peter was straight. In the end, Alec put his thoughts about the handsome art historian on the back burner and devoted his free time to looking for a flat of his own as he had planned.
In mid-November, Alec finally moved into his own place in the Earl’s Court area of London, just a short walk from the tube station on Earl’s Court Road. It was largish flat on the first floor of a converted townhouse. It needed extensive updating, but it had a big bay window that looked out on Redcliffe Square, floors that were beautifully refinished hardwood, and access to a very private back garden.
It was just at the start of the Christmas holidays when Alec decided that he was ready to invite his aunt and some friends over for a dinner. Among those that Alec counted as close friends were Gareth and his partner Ian. Since they had first met at the audition for Cinderella, the older man had become Alec’s mentor as well as his agent. Gareth and Ian looked out for Alec as one might a son; on a few occasions, they even asked Alec to join them for weekend outings.
On the night of the dinner party, Alec had just put out a tray of snacks when he heard a knock at the door; his aunt was the first to arrive.
“Hi, Aunt Jo!” Alec said, giving her a peck on the cheek. He took a tray of Christmas cookies from her with one hand and her overnight bag with the other.
“Ooh, I’m in heaven. You’ve baked all my favorites,” Alec exclaimed, putting them down on the nearest table so he could put Jo’s things in the bedroom.
“I hope you enjoy them, dear. Are you sure you’ll be all right sleeping on the sofa tonight?”
“Of course, Aunt Jo. I don’t want you going all the way back to your place by yourself at night, even if you were to take a cab.”
Jo hung up her coat on a peg just inside the door and glanced around the flat. “Alec, the place looks wonderful! It’s such a nice change from when you first moved in.”
Aunt Jo was right. Before Alec had moved in, the walls were a hideous shade of 1970s avocado green, the kitchen appliances were harvest gold, and the light fixtures were a hodgepodge of styles from the 1960s and the 1970s. Now the walls were a pleasing earth tone; in the kitchen stood modern stainless-steel appliances, and throughout the flat, warm light shone from new fixtures. Best of all, in the course of modernizing the flat, they had discovered a plastered-over fireplace and restored it to a functional state.
Aunt Jo trailed after Alec as he went back into the kitchen to get more food. She perched on a stool in front of the counter and helped herself to a piece of celery.
“Do you remember my friend Jane from school? You met her last summer at that museum reception.”
Alec felt a tickle in his solar plexus as Peter came to mind. “Right, she was there with her daughter. Mattie was her name, yeah?”
“When I last spoke to her, I let slip that you had landed the role of Prince Charming. Now she’s angling for some opening-night tickets. I told her that I’d at least ask,” Aunt Jo said as she munched on the celery.
“Well, I could try. Have you heard anything about Mattie and that friend of hers? What was his name? Peter, wasn’t it?” asked Alec, pretending to grope for recollection.
“I don’t know about Peter, but she’s been going on and on about Mattie and the lack of eligible bachelors. I’m sure it’s her way of asking me to tell you to call Mattie.”
Aunt Jo had finished her celery and was about to pick up a stick of carrot when she paused. “So how is it for you in the romance department? I seem to recall you had a prospect. Am I going to meet anyone special tonight?” she asked, trying to sound casual. Luckily for Alec, a knock at the door saved him from answering his aunt’s question.
Gareth and Ian were the first to arrive, and following soon were some friends from the cast of Cinderella. Cheerful songs and good conversation filled the evening as everyone consumed an amount of alcohol that was just short of regretful. When the guests had gone, Aunt Jo helped Alec with the clearing up.
“Well, since I wasn’t introduced to anyone special tonight, I assume that you never made that first date,” Jo said as they worked side by side to load the dishwasher.
Alec scraped at a nonexistent spot on the plate in his hands before answering. “Well, no, I’ve been waiting for the right time. Like I said, it’s complicated,” Alec said, hinting that he wanted to change the subject.
Jane put another plate in the dishwasher before she spoke again. “You know, I just had an idea. You ought to introduce Mattie to some of your new friends from the theater. Jane is constantly complaining about how Mattie meets the wrong sorts of people, and your new friends all seem very nice. She’s even been trying to get Mattie away from Peter. They’re inseparable, and Jane thinks that having him hanging about makes her look unavailable, even if he is gay.”
A deafening crash reverberated through the kitchen when a large pot slipped from Alec’s hand and hit the stone floor tiles.
“Sorry, Aunt Jo. Wha-what did you say?” Alec stammered.
Jo looked at her nephew with a startled expression. “Good lord, that scared the daylights out of me! I said it would be nice if you introduced Mattie to some of your friends.”
Alec swallowed and said in a near whisper, “No, I meant the part about Peter.”
“What, that he’s gay? I thought you knew,” Aunt Jo said.
The room was suddenly spinning, and Alec had to lean back against the counter.
“My word, what’s the matter, dear? You look like you’re going to be sick,” she said and guided him into a nearby chair.
Alec put his face in his hands. “Aunt Jo, I need to tell you something. It’s about making that first date we talked about.” The tears came before he could go on. “Things are complicated because it’s… it’s Peter that I fancy, not Mattie,” he said thickly. Suddenly more words came tumbling out. “I’m sorry, Aunt Jo. I love you so much, but I can’t help who I am. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Alec choked out before sobbing openly.
Jo quickly pulled her nephew into a hug and held him tightly. “Alec, you have nothing to be sorry for. Don’t you ever think that! My dear boy, my poor dear boy, I’ve known you were gay since you were fifteen.”
Alec broke from the hug and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “You’ve known all this time? Well, you might have said something. I’ve dreaded this moment for years.”
Jo placed a gentle hand on her nephew’s shoulder. “Darling, I had hoped that in the time you’ve spent with me, you could see that your sexual orientation would not make a jot of difference to me, and in any case, it was not my place to say anything until you were ready.”
He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I suppose you’re right. I guess what I’m really dreading is telling Mum and Dad. Worse yet, Albert. Albert’s going to hate me and tell me I’m going to hell,” Alec said quietly, on the verge of tears again.
Jo cast her eyes heavenward. “Oh, don’t get me started on Albert. Your brother has been a royal pain in the arse. He and that wife of his don’t have enough sense between the two of them to get out of the rain.”
Jo sighed and then brightened. “Well, never mind them for now. The important thing is that you must let Peter know how you feel. You get me four tickets to your opening, and we’ll sort something out.”
Chapter Five
THE applause was deafening as Alec joined hands with the cast members on either side of him and took another bow at the conclusion of a successful opening night. He grinned when he saw Jane, Jo, Mattie, and Peter enthusiastically waving at him from their box seats.
Alec took one more bow before the curtain dropped and chaos engulfed him. The cast whooped and exchanged bear hugs that lifted the shorter members off the
floor. Alec was enjoying the party atmosphere, but he also remembered that Aunt Jo and the rest would be meeting him in his dressing room. Reluctantly, he filtered through the crowd toward the quiet of the backstage area.
When he arrived at his dressing room, he did a little happy dance; someone had affixed a small nameplate with “Alec Bannerman” in block letters onto the door. Above it, painted in black inside an oval of stylized vines, was the name of his character, Prince Charming. Feeling as if he was in a dream, Alec swung the door open and surveyed the little room. He had been in this room almost every day for the past three months, but tonight was the first time that he felt he belonged in it and really saw it. The walls were a plain white, but brightly upholstered chairs and a warm wood floor relieved the starkness. To the left of the door was a wardrobe rack on which hung bits and pieces of costume, as well as Alec’s street clothes. In the center of the wall in front of the door was a brightly lit mirror with a wood-toned countertop that had been fitted with electrical outlets for hair-styling appliances. Tonight a bouquet of flowers, a bottle of champagne, and a bunch of balloons sat on that countertop.
Excitedly, Alec crossed the room and examined the cards attached to the gifts. The flowers were from his mum and dad, the champagne from Aunt Jo, and with a flush of butterflies in his chest, he saw that the balloons were from Peter. The noise of people passing in the corridor jolted him from his reverie, and he was reminded that the sender of those balloons was due to come through the door any minute. He quickly removed his stage makeup with a quick swipe of a wet wipe before he started to change into his street clothes.
Alec quickly peeled off the tight trousers of his Prince Charming costume and pulled on his jeans. He was still shirtless and barefoot when there was a soft knock at the door.
“Hello, it’s me, Peter. Are you decent?” asked a pleasing baritone voice from the other side of the door.
“Shit,” Alec muttered. “Just a minute!” he called through the door as he pulled on his socks and shoes. Alec quickly buttoned his shirt and haphazardly ran a brush through his hair; then, taking a deep breath to calm the fluttery feeling in his stomach, he opened the door.
“Hi, Peter,” Alec said somewhat breathlessly. He looked past Peter’s shoulder and saw that the art historian was alone. “Where are the others?” he asked.
Peter tilted his head to one side and shrugged. “Mattie and your Aunt Jo convinced Jane to go out on a hen night. It’s just you and me tonight,” he said innocently.
Alec backed away from the door, wordlessly inviting Peter into the snug little room. “Just you and me? Ooh, nearly a proper date,” Alec said, only half-joking.
Peter gently door closed behind him with his foot and stepped into the room. “Well, I wouldn’t have brought this,” he said, producing a single yellow rose from behind his back, “if this wasn’t a proper date.”
Alec felt his palms getting sweaty at the sight of the flower and did his best to cover his nervousness with his trademark smile. “A yellow rose. Yellow for friendship. That’s very thoughtful of you, Peter. Thanks.”
Peter looked down at the floor and shuffled his feet a little. “Well, this being the first date and all….”
“Peter, it’s perfect. A yellow rose is perfect, and I like the balloons too. Thanks,” Alec said quietly, suddenly feeling much more relaxed as he took the flower. Searching around for a bit, Alec found a water tumbler for the flower and placed it next to the balloons.
Peter grinned and motioned toward the door. “Well, if you’re ready, shall we go?”
Outside the theater, Peter waved down a cab. “I thought we could celebrate your debut as leading man in a really cool place.”
“Mattie said you guys knew some cool places to show me. I put myself completely in your hands.”
“This place is literally cool. Ice-cold, in fact,” Peter said mysteriously. A few minutes later, the cab stopped in front of a very modern bar just off Regent Street. Blue light bathed the facade, and blue neon spelled out “Antarctica,” the name of the establishment.
Alec recognized the name and broke into a big smile. “I’ve heard of this place. The bar is actually carved out of ice. I see what you mean by really cool.”
“You buy tickets for the ice bar part, but ours won’t let us in for another forty-five minutes yet. I suggest we start with a little champagne and something to eat up here first,” Peter said as he held the door for Alec.
When they had rid themselves of their heavy outer garments, Peter led the way through an entrance on the left that opened up into a large, softly lit room done in sedate grays and browns. In the center of the room were high café tables and chairs. On every tabletop, high or low, were votive candles set in cut glass holders that glinted like fairy lights. Along the perimeter of the room was a series of plush banquette seats that were just wide enough for two, and each one had a low table in front that was also set with votive candles. Floor-to-ceiling curtains separated each banquette from its neighbor, creating as much privacy as propriety would allow. Alec happily followed Peter as he headed for one of these snuggeries.
The butterflies in Alec’s chest stirred again as he slipped into the vacant spot next to Peter on the suede-covered bench. He could feel the heat radiating from Peter’s thigh on his own in the close quarters, and as the circulating air carried the familiar scent of Peter’s shampoo toward Alec, the memory of their first meeting came back to him vividly, and once again he felt the overwhelming urge to kiss the man next to him. But tonight there was no doubt and no fear; instead, he savored the excitement of the seduction by inching closer to Peter and gently placing his knee against Peter’s thigh.
Alec felt the blood pool in his groin on contact and shifted to relieve his discomfort as he watched Peter do a little shifting of his own, but they continued to observe the niceties of a first date by ordering some food and drinks. “So how did you become interested in theater?” Peter asked after the server left to fetch their order.
Alec toyed with the flickering votive candle in front of them. “I’ve always been a bit of a showman. I remember watching that old Bing Crosby movie Holiday Inn when I was five or six years old and got the idea to put on a show in our living room whenever a holiday came around. I even got my brother to join in. But it wasn’t until I was seventeen that I decided to do it for a living. How about you? How did you decide to become an architectural art historian?”
Peter leaned back against the cushions of the banquette and rested his elbow on its high back. “It was out of boredom, really. I took an undergraduate degree in engineering but lost interest when I advanced to graduate studies and switched to architecture.” Sadness tinged his voice as he went on. “During the last year of my studies, I met someone, an artist, who got me interested in art history. I’m sorry to say that the art history stuck with me, but the boyfriend didn’t.”
Alec straightened up and leaned back too; he felt a little squiggle of excitement when Peter did not move his arm away.
“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s his loss,” Alec whispered while losing himself in the violet depths of Peter’s eyes.
“Well, you know what they say about one door closing and another one opening,” Peter answered softly while holding Alec’s gaze. While Peter was talking, Alec leaned closer by increments to steal a kiss, but he was interrupted when the server suddenly appeared with their order. The comic timing of the situation was not lost on the two men, and they separated in a fit of giggles as they picked up their glasses.
Peter raised his glass in a toast. “To Prince Charming, long may he reign,” he said with a big smile. Alec raised his glass in acknowledgement and thought to himself, Here’s to my Cinderfella, before putting the glass to his lips.
Their forty-five-minute wait seemed like no time at all as they sat chatting and nibbling. When it was time to go downstairs, Peter led again as they made their way back out to the main entrance. Once in the bar’s vestibule, they turned right and went down a curved flig
ht of stairs lit by tubes of blue neon running along the lower edge of the wall. At the bottom of the stairs was what appeared to be a cloakroom, but it was where smartly uniformed staffers handed out hooded thermal capes for the patrons to wear while they were in the ice bar.
A woman with short blonde hair and very red lipstick quickly sized up the two men and handed them silver-colored ponchos. Alec grinned, feeling just a bit silly but enjoying it all the same as they slipped the billowing garments over their heads.
The ice bar was as advertised, the walls of the room were sheathed in etched glass, but the bar itself and the tables scattered around the room were carved from massive blocks of clear ice. There were more than a dozen people already clustered around the frozen bar when Alec and Peter entered the icy room. Alec pressed ahead and bellied up to the bar while Peter slotted in behind him. When Alec felt the entirety of Peter’s body lean against him, he stiffened and unconsciously canted his hips in the direction of Peter’s groin. Peter answered his nudge with an almost imperceptible grind of his hips; it was as if their genitals were in control of the lower halves of their bodies while the upper halves went on with the formalities of social intercourse.
“What can I get you gentlemen?” the bartender asked.
“I’ll have a vodka tonic,” said Peter from behind. He had pressed even closer to Alec, and the unmistakable hardness of an erection bumped insistently against Alec’s right buttock. “I’ll have the vodka lemon,” Alec requested with a slight squeak in his voice, grateful that the shapeless thermal cape hid the bulge in his jeans.
When the drinks arrived, Peter reached around to hand over the drink vouchers. “C’mon, let’s check out the rest of the room,” he said while ghosting his lips against Alec’s ear, a gesture that sent such a shiver through Alec that his nipples hardened.
Finding Forever Page 3
