by J. P. Bowie
“Oh, always Mr. Nice-guy. There is only one way to help—get me the money.”
“No way. That’s not going to happen.”
Joey came round to where Jeff sat and knelt at his side. “Please Jeff, please? I beg you…help me.” He put his hand on Jeff’s thigh and began to stroke it, his fingers inching near the zipper of Jeff’s slacks.
Jeff knocked Joey’s hand away then stood, pulling Joey to his feet. “I’ll help you, but not that way. You don’t have to give me a hand job to get what you want.”
“Believe me, the pleasure would be mine.”
“It’s over, Joey. I’ve moved on.”
“You think so, eh? I think you’d like to fuck me right now.” He reached out and tore Jeff’s shirt open, pressing his lips against his bare chest.
“Stop that!” Jeff pushed him away roughly. “What don’t you understand about ‘it’s over’?”
Joey’s expression of disbelief quickly turned to anger. His eyes blazed as he hissed at Jeff, “Asshole. You want to see me dead? That’s what I’ll be if you don’t help me.”
“Calm down, for God’s sake.” Jeff grabbed Joey’s arm. “Tell me what happened.”
“You don’t give a damn what happened.” Joey pulled himself from Jeff’s grasp. “All you care about is that prissy artist guy you live with—who you say you love. You don’t care what happens to me.”
“Stop being such a drama queen Joey. Just tell me who you owe the money to and how much.”
“A syndicate in Puerto Rico.” Joey began pacing the office floor. “I owe them five hundred thousand.” He slumped down on Jeff’s desk as though suddenly deflated.
“God Almighty.” Jeff gasped. “Five hundred thousand? How the hell did that happen?”
“My partners ripped me off. They left me high and dry, owing the money.”
“And the syndicate is only after you? What about your partners? Don’t they want them too?”
“They disappeared.”
“And you couldn’t disappear? I thought that was something you were very good at—disappearing.”
“I tried, believe me.” Joey ignored Jeff’s barb. “I came back here, but they caught up with me somehow. They know where I am and they’ve given me five days to get the money—or it’s over.”
Jeff leaned back in his chair and stared grimly at Joey. The man avoided the eye contact, a faint tint coloring his cheeks.
“All right Joey. Now tell me the truth. I’m not buying any of that hogwash.”
The man’s eyes widened in surprise. “You think I’m lying to you?”
“I know you are. I know you’re way too smart to be caught in a deal like that. You might need money, but it’s not because some “syndicate” is after your hide. Try telling me the truth, it might just help.”
“Oh ho, Mr. Clever who thinks he knows everything.” Joey got up from Jeff’s desk and paced about the office again. Jeff watched him in silence, figuring Joey was rethinking his strategy. “Okay,” he said finally. “You win, there’s no one after me, but I need some money quickly.”
“Get a job then.”
“I have a job, smart-ass. My own business. I have a photographic studio in LA.”
Jeff raised his eyebrows in surprise. He knew Joey had been a talented photographer and Jeff had urged him to take advantage of his gift, but at the time he hadn’t been interested.
“So you’re finally doing something you’re good at.”
“Yes, but now I’m in trouble with the landlord. I can’t pay the lease—he wants six months in advance because I’ve been late so many times.”
Jeff’s mouth twitched. “The rent is five hundred thousand dollars?”
“No, of course not. But it’s two thousand a month and I haven’t got it.”
“Have you tried negotiating with him? Say a couple of months in advance?”
“I don’t have a couple of weeks.”
Jeff looked at his ex-lover and slowly shook his head. How typical of Joey to come busting in like this, giving him a song and dance about Puerto Rican syndicates and threats on his life, when all he needed was a bill paid off. He’d lived in Joey’s over the top world long enough to know he was an inveterate liar who would spin any tale to get what he wanted—the more bizarre, the better—and if he thought he could actually convince Jeff to come up with five hundred thousand of Peter’s money, he’d go for it.
“Where have you been, Joey?” Jeff asked quietly. “You left me without a word, without any idea of what might have happened to you. Do you know that I have imagined you dead after all this time? Now you barge in here, lying through your teeth, demanding money, and with not one word of apology.”
Joey looked downcast. “I am truly sorry, Jeff. I was just…scared of the commitment you wanted from me.”
“Bullshit. You just wanted out. It had run its course for you and you wanted out. Plain and simple.”
“I can’t fool you anymore, eh Jeff?” Joey slid his body onto Jeff’s lap and began kissing his face. “But I still find you very sexy…”
“Cut it out,” Jeff roared.
Joey jumped to his feet laughing. “All right amigo, I get the message. You love Blondie, with or without all his money.”
“That’s enough, Joey.” Jeff’s expression shut his ex-lover up momentarily. “I’ll see if I can raise enough for you to pay your landlord. But I’m not asking Peter for it. How much money do you have?”
“A thousand dollars, but I have a car payment in a week’s time.”
“Call your landlord. Ask him if two or three months rent will do it for the time being”
“Thank you, Jeff.”
“And for God’s sake, cut out the game playing.”
“Oh, you used to love the games we played…remember?”
“That was different.”
Joey looked at him through half closed eyes, a little smile playing about his lips. “Not so different, really.” He took a step closer. “If you would just relax and let me in again.”
Jeff gazed into Joey’s beautiful eyes and, despite himself, he felt a tremor somewhere in the pit of his stomach. He stood up quickly. “Let me have your phone number, Joey.” His voice sounded thick in his own ears.
“Sure, here’s my card.” Joey was looking at him, a small smile of triumph on his face.
Jeff studied the card. “How did you raise the money for the studio in the first place?”
“A—a friend wanted to put me up in business. He gave me the capital to put it together.”
“And this friend can’t help you out now?”
“He bailed on me after a year.”
“Whatever…” Jeff didn’t want to hear the details. “By the way, if you call the house again, be sure to leave your name. Anonymous phone calls are pretty childish.”
“I didn’t want to upset Blondie.”
“Stop calling him that. Peter isn’t exactly the type to get upset over an ex-friend of mine calling to talk to me. Besides, he knows all about you.”
“If he really knows all about me, he should get upset.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Joey. Even your charm is fallible.” Jeff stood up, signaling their conversation was over. “Call me after you speak to you landlord.”
Joey attempted a grateful look. “Thanks, Jeff.”
Jeff did not move to give him the hug he obviously expected, so he shrugged slightly and turned to go. “Oh, and give Peter my regards please,” he added, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
For a long moment Jeff stood looking at the closed door. He could not quite believe what had just happened. Joey was back in his life—and, oh God, how he wished he was not!
CHAPTER FOUR
Gloria’s house stood within a gate-guarded community in Corona del Mar. Jeff showed his invitation to the young security guard at the gate who gave him the directions to the house.
“Enjoy your evening sirs.”
Jeff glanced at Peter as he pulled away from the
security gate. “Before we go inside I want to say thank you again.”
“For what?”
“For being so understanding.”
“What brought that on?”
“I was just thinking about the Joey situation and how well you took it when I told you he came to my office the other day and what he wanted.”
“Oh, that.” Peter covered Jeff’s hand with his own. “Don’t sweat it. I don’t think an old boyfriend coming back on the scene can threaten what we have.”
“And you’re not upset I’m going to help him out?”
Peter grinned at him. “Just don’t make a habit of it.”
“No chance. And you know, once Joey gets what he wants, I’ll probably never hear from him again.”
They got out of the car and walked up the driveway toward the house. Jeff put his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “You’re the best.” He pulled Peter closer and kissed his forehead.
Peter chuckled. “Anymore of that and we’ll have to skip this party.”
The spacious entry to Gloria and Johnny’s house was filled with flowers and balloons. A smiling young woman greeted Peter and Jeff at the door then ushered them into the crowded living room. Gloria spotted them immediately and rushed over to greet them.
“Darlings! Thank God you two are here.” She guided them out on to the patio where a bar had been set up. “What’ll it be?” She appeared already quite tipsy, her eyes sparkling with mischief and merriment. “I’m so glad now you’re here to liven things up a bit.”
“I’m sure you’ve been keeping everyone on their toes all by yourself Gloria.” Peter hugged her. “You don’t need anyone else to liven up your shindigs.”
“Oh, Johnny invited some of his partners and their wives—and they’re so boring.” Gloria’s stage whisper brought a smile to Peter’s lips. “I’ve been standing glassy eyed for the last half hour, listening to them prattling on about their tea parties and charity drives and,” She shuddered dramatically. “They’re trying to get me to volunteer. Can you believe it?” She glanced toward the French doors as a young couple stepped out on to the patio. “Emily…Jerry…Now all my favorite people are here.” She dragged the couple over to where Peter and Jeff stood by the bar. “This is my cousin Emily and her fiancé, Jerry. And this is Peter, the artist I told you about…and his partner, Jeff.
“Now tell the nice bartender what you’d like to drink, darlings. I’ll go rescue Johnny from those boring old farts and bring him out here.” She swept off, teetering slightly on her heels.
Emily giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. Peter smiled at her, admiring the long dark hair that hung around her shoulders in shiny waves. He noticed her large blue eyes, still sparkling with amusement.
“Johnny’s going to have his hands full tonight,” Jeff remarked.
Jerry chuckled. “I think he’s probably quite used to it.”
“You two are engaged?” Peter asked. “When’s the happy day?”
“We haven’t quite settled on that yet,” Emily said after a quick look at Jerry. “We only got engaged last week.”
Jerry slid his arm around her waist. “We have to let the folks at home get used to the idea first.”
Jeff handed Peter a glass of champagne. “They don’t approve?”
“Mine do, but Emily’s father…”
“Oh, he’ll come around.” Emily slipped her hand inside Jerry’s. “Besides, we’re both over twenty-one.”
Gloria re-appeared with Johnny in tow. Hanging on to her husband’s arm, she beckoned them over. “Come on. Time for everyone to see me in all my splendor…courtesy of the greatest artist in the world.”
“Gloria…”
Peter’s protest was waved away by the lady. “Don’t go getting modest on me, Peter Brandon. I know you better than that.”
Jeff took Peter’s arm. “Better get it over with.”
Peter grimaced and let himself be steered towards the waiting crowd in the living room. Champagne was being poured for the birthday toast and all eyes were on the covered portrait now hanging over the fireplace.
“Ta-da!” Gloria cried. “I know you all can’t wait to see it, so Johnny, expose me!”
Johnny dutifully pulled on the silk cloth hiding the portrait Peter had recently completed and revealed Gloria’s seductive smile to the assembled crowd.
“Wow…” Jerry, standing near Peter and Jeff, exclaimed. “That’s really something.”
“It’s beautiful,” Emily murmured her agreement.
Peter turned and met Emily’s eyes. Behind that attractive smile he sensed something else—a sadness perhaps? A secret knowledge she was keeping from everyone else. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but looking into her eyes, the feeling grew stronger in him, and he touched her arm as though to comfort her.
Then, for a moment, it seemed as if they were alone together in the room. The sounds of laughter and conversation faded away. A connection had been made, a feeling shared by two people who had both known anguish and suffering.
Peter was suddenly aware that Jeff was looking at him strangely and he stepped back, breaking the invisible thread that had bound he and Emily together for that brief moment. People were now surrounding them, congratulating Peter on his work.
“Are you all right?”
Peter nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll tell you later.” He squeezed Jeff’s hand gratefully, then forced a fixed smile on his face as a large woman in a pink dress gushed at him about how he had captured the unique planes of Gloria’s face and how the flesh tones were ‘just right’ and how on earth had he managed to make her eyes so alive?
Peter answered politely, but from the corner of his eye he saw Emily and Jerry engaged in what looked like an argument with an older man. The man was tall and imperious with iron gray hair. He might have been handsome once, but from the look of his flushed and florid face, too much alcohol had left its mark. It was obvious he’d been drinking and his voice carried over to where Peter stood as he tried to concentrate on what the lady in pink was saying.
“I don’t give a damn what you think…” Peter heard him say, then the rest was lost as a group of people, headed by Gloria, descended on him and the gushing lady in pink.
“Everyone loves my portrait, darling,” Gloria said, swaying slightly in front of him. Peter made his excuses to the pink lady then took Gloria’s hand and led her off to a quiet corner.
“Who’s the guy talking to Emily and Jerry over there?”
Gloria followed his glance and frowned. “Oh, that’s Emily’s father, my Uncle Charlie.” Unable to hide her dislike, she said, “I had to invite him and my Aunt Patricia, though I can’t stand either one of them. Look, he’s drunk and they arrived late. Absolutely no class. I don’t know how Emily can stand living in the same house with them after what she’s been through.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh—oh nothing, sweetie.” Gloria appeared strangely flustered. “I’m just rambling. Too much of the bubbly. Look, there’s Johnny and Jeff hiding in the corner. Let’s join them.” She whisked Peter across the room to where the two men stood talking. She flung herself into her husband’s arms. “Oh, thank you so much for my lovely gift, Johnny. It’s just so wonderful.”
Johnny looked ruefully over her head at Peter and Jeff as he held his wife close. “You’re welcome, honey. Now slow down on the champagne or you’re not going to last the night.”
“I’m not as drunk as old Uncle Charlie over there. Look at him giving those two kids such a bad time. He really is a creep…I’ve a good mind to go over there and tell him to shut up.”
“You will not.” Johnny restrained his wife with a firm grasp on her arm.
“But look how he’s upsetting Emily.”
“Okay. We’ll just wander over there and break it up like we don’t know they’re having a problem—and be diplomatic.”
Peter watched as their hosts approached Emily and her parents. Johnny, all smiles, shook Charles Ha
stings by the hand then kissed Emily’s mother on the cheek. Peter couldn’t quite make out what was being said, but he saw Emily and Jerry relax a little at the obvious change of subject. Gloria turned and beckoned Peter and Jeff over to the group. Somewhat reluctantly, they walked over to join them.
“I’d like you to meet my uncle and aunt, Charles and Patricia Hastingsh.” Gloria was deliberately slurring her syllables, and the effect was hilarious. Emily giggled involuntarily as Gloria, leaning on her husband, continued, “This ish Peter and hish friend Jeff…”
Emily and Jerry were convulsed by silent laughter as Peter, trying to keep a straight face, shook hands with the grim pair. He only just managed to control the laughter building inside him as Charles Hastings glowered at Gloria.
“You’d better have that speech impediment looked at young lady.” There was not a trace of humor in his voice. He turned his attention to Peter. “So, you’re the one who paints. Patricia, my wife here, has always had a yen to have her portrait painted. Probably should have had it done years ago, though.”
His wife’s face took on a pained expression at the implied insult, but said nothing.
“Well, let’s take a closer look at the work of art.” He grabbed his wife’s arm, leading her away from the rest of the group who let out an almost simultaneous sigh of relief.
“I’ll get us another drink,” Jeff headed for the bar outside.
Peter watched him go for a moment then turned to Emily and Jerry. “You two all right?”
“Oh, yeah. Thanks to Gloria’s performance. She certainly broke up the tirade we were getting from Emily’s old man.”
“Jerry…don’t.” Emily gave Peter an apologetic look. “We don’t want to air our family problems at a party.”
Once again as their eyes met, Peter could feel some form of connection with her. Instinctively, he knew there was more, but he also knew he would not get the answer here.
“Did I piss my Uncle Charlie off, do you think?” Gloria was hanging on to Johnny’s arm for support.
Johnny kissed the top of her head. “Come on beautiful. I’m taking you out for a breath of air.”
