I left Babylon to search for Brian as quickly as possible – but that was not very quickly. Waving off my bodyguard/driver, Eli, I waited, assuming my most commanding expression when he hesitated. He responded in character as deferential chauffeur – which might have been enough to mislead any eavesdropping fans or paparazzi, but didn’t fool me for a second. I held out my hand and scowled.

“You sure you want to drive yourself, Mr. Lane? I’d be happy to bring the limo around....”

“The keys to the Porsche, Eli. Now.”

He blinked. Twice. But to his credit, that was his only reaction to the news that I was going to be taking off on my own. I made it a practice to arrive at functions like this in a limousine, a very showy one. Whenever I traveled any distance by car, Eli drove me in either the limo or one of the large luxury cars I owned, such as my Mercedes or Lexus, but I made sure he kept something fast like the Porsche nearby, in case I wanted to make a quick exit. I rarely drove myself but when I did, I wanted to have fun doing it. In this case, the Porsche wasn’t mine actually, although I bought it – it was destined to be a birthday present. It looked like I was going to have to break it in a little first.

Catching the keys that were reluctantly tossed to me, I strode out a side exit to the alley where the car had been left under the watchful eyes of one of Brian’s bouncers. I tipped the man and told him he could go back inside or home, whichever he preferred. 

“Wait,” I called to him before he reached the door. He turned back to me eagerly. The tip had been generous and he looked eager to earn more, perhaps with more personal services. He was especially fit, but my taste did not run to such overly muscular men. I smiled warmly at him nonetheless.

“Did you perhaps see your employer, Mr. Kinney, leave the club, oh, about twenty minutes ago?”

The man’s face fell. I pulled out my wallet and he brightened.

“I saw him pass by that way,” the man said, indicating the street at the end of the alley. “He was walking fast, heading east, toward the Meat Hook.”

I nodded briskly and handed over another hundred dollar bill. “Merci. Please keep that to yourself, my friend.” He gave me a glib assurance. My smile broadened, but my eyes narrowed. I knew this type.

“No, you do not understand, my friend. If I come back and word of our conversation, or of where you think your boss might have been heading, is all the gossip inside or outside Babylon, you and I may no longer be friends...and my good friend Brian Kinney may no longer be your friend. Do we have an understanding?”

The muscular young man looked now as though he did understand. Danny assures me that my normally genial demeanor makes it all the more scary when I show my “street tough” persona. I once heard Peter Linton, during the time when he was pretending to be George Main, tell him that it was the street tough who was the real me. He was not wrong...though he was not completely right, either. I am many men, and the street tough is just one of the many faces I can wear with comfort.

I got into the Porsche and thought about where Brian might be. It was difficult to imagine him going to the Meat Hook, which was a seedy club, but I drove in that direction anyway. Perhaps he was just walking off whatever burst of temper had sent him storming out of his own club. I drove down the street slowly. It was a Friday night and cruising down Liberty in an expensive convertible was not the most unobtrusive way to look for someone. As I had to push more than one bold young man away after he had started climbing into the car with me, I began to regret leaving Eli behind.

Parking near the Meat Hook, I called a twink over and offered him fifty dollars to watch my car, with the promise of another fifty if it was unmarked when I came back. He stared at me raptly.

“You...you’re Stephen Lane, aren’t you? I heard you were at Babylon tonight but I couldn’t get in. You don’t need to pay me. If I could take a picture of you standing with me, I’ll watch your car for you all night! I’ll make sure no one hurts it. Your movie gave me the courage to come out.”

Ah, undoubtedly Two For The Road, the movie that made gay life look so...carefree and happy. Even the breakup is relatively upbeat. I smiled at the young man and held out my hand for his phone.

“Let me take the picture, my arms are longer and I am used to doing this so we will be sure to get a good one. I will take a picture of both of us standing next to the Porsche, yes?”

As I walked away, leaving a blissfully happy twink behind, it struck me how easy it was to make some people happy. That young man’s night was made with just a picture – though I insisted he take the money too, whereas that other young man, the one at Babylon, he was left dissatisfied, despite receiving more money for less. Brian would have considered watching my car and keeping his mouth shut part of his job duties – without extra remuneration.

Entering the Meat Hook, I tried to keep a low profile. I didn’t want to have it make the newspapers that Stephen Lane was cruising rough gay bars on the night he was premiering a commercial opposing DADT. Personally, I felt that whatever a person enjoyed was fine, as long as they didn’t hurt any non-consenting adults...or children...or animals. That whole gerbil thing.... I made a face. Still, it was a price of fame that I could accept, to always have to be conscious of my behavior and the appearance it would have to my public was not that big a price to pay for all that I had gained. I had no time for those celebrities who whined about it.

Shrugging off men, I made my way to the bar...and then to the back room. There was no sign of Brian. Which was a disappointment and a relief. I was over-reacting, I decided. Brian probably took a brisk walk and then headed off to his loft, or better, caught a cab to the townhouse. Just because the Danny of old, the one I lived with who was the Dark Angel a good part of the time, just because that Danny would have headed for the nearest back room at a time like this, didn’t mean that Brian would. But Danny must have thought he would, which was why he sent me after his runaway lover. I had experience in this type of...retrieval project.

Ignoring the invitations I received, I headed out the way I came. Only my sharp hearing made me catch the stray comment at the bar, where one of the bartenders was telling the other why he was late for his shift. I paused to hear more.

“Seriously, Frank, you would have had trouble tearing yourself away too. He was there, in the Rack Room not ten minutes ago, the Stud of Liberty himself, looking for some rough action.”

I sat down on a stool and got a scotch from Frank, who had a good bartender’s ability to gossip and get drinks at the same time. A benefit of his distraction was that he didn’t look at me so he didn’t recognize me. He was focused on the other man.

“Yeah Rick, sure. Are you sure it wasn’t you looking for some rough action and forgetting about the time? Kinney being in the Rack Room is no big deal, he was a regular there back in the day – you’re going to have to come up with a better story than that.”

“I know he used to go there, but not for a while...and not looking for someone to fuck him hard. I’ll tell you, you’re lucky I showed up at all.”

Frank’s snort of derision was loud enough to cover the sound of mine. This Rick was fit enough but he wasn’t in Brian’s league. He didn’t take offense. He elaborated.

“Well, Kinney wasn’t being too picky. The guy he left with was uglier than you, Frank, but strong looking. He looked like he could put a hurting on someone.”

“Yeah, but it would feel so good. But I have to tell you, the temptation to give Kinney a thrashing would tempt me beyond my self-control.”

They both laughed, in a nasty way. I would have loved to have stiffed them but I wasn’t completely sure no one would recognize me so I left a routine tip and quit that place as quickly as I could without attracting attention. Retrieving my car from the lad...Billy was his name. Nice boy. I dropped a kiss on him in thanks for directions toward Tremont. It was pleasant to make someone’s night so easily.

I had to concentrate to find my way to Brian’s loft, even with the directions, I so rarely drove myself. I considered calling Danny but decided it would be better to clear out whatever trick, or tricks, Brian picked up to amuse himself. Less bloodshed. Danny might talk about being in an “open relationship” but he was possessive as hell and he liked to be the one to decide when it was open and when it was closed.

It was easy to find my way to the right place once I reached the address. The loft was illuminated with the infamous blue lights, which I’d heard about. I could see it from the road. I parked inside, taking a spot I hoped corresponded with Brian’s place. I’d hate to come back and find the car booted. It was the correct floor, from what I could tell, and I had a vague recognition of the number assigned to it. I must have heard the address of the loft at some point.

Pushing thoughts of the car aside – though vowing to think twice before I left Eli behind again – I hurried up the stairs, two at a time, rejecting the ancient looking elevator. Reaching the floor, I was gratified to see that I had remembered the correct number of his loft – the door was partially ajar and I could hear voices – one of which was Brian’s.

“I told you – I changed my mind – so get your ugly ass out of here and...ugh....”

“Not your decision anymore, sweet cheeks.”

I didn’t wait for more. Brian’s voice had been cut off by the unpleasantly familiar sound of someone being struck. I pushed through the door and saw a large young man with a shaved head pressing Brian against one of the support beams in the center of the living room. Brian had just his jeans on and there was a large welt on his back and a reddening area on the side of his face that wasn’t being pressed into the beam by the man’s beefy hand. Brian’s arms were twisted painfully behind his back at an awkward angle.

“Sweet cheeks?” I grabbed the man from behind. I had to grip him at the wrists and apply pressure in the manner Linton had taught me to get him to release Brian – I didn’t want to risk having him twist Brian’s arms any more. Once he did release him, however, I was free to pull the jerk away and pummel him, taking full advantage of his shock.

“Get out,” I growled, standing over his kneeling form as he looked up at me dazedly. He really was an ugly looking customer, but a broken nose didn’t help. He staggered up and seemed to consider, for all of five seconds, taking a shot at me, but for all my leanness, I am pretty strong, which he seemed to realize, so he made discretion the better part of cowardice and left. I walked over and locked the door before turning my attention to Brian. He had fallen to the floor, and was crouching by the beam, looking...well...like Brian. Ironically amused. And either drunk or high still.

“That was quite impressive, Lane. Though I have to tell you, I was holding out for a hero, I suppose you’ll have to do. You know, you get to ravish me now as your reward for saving me from the ugly villain.”

“Sounds tempting, but I think I’ll pass...for now. Let’s get you cleaned up a bit and some antiseptic on your face. You’re cut.”

Laughing weakly to himself, Brian toppled over sideways. Sighing, I walked over and hauled him to his feet. Catching his wince, though he tried to cover it up, I half carried, half led him to the bathroom. His ribs were bruised and I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a few cracked ones. He must have fought a little bit as he tried to convince his suitor that he’d lost interest in the evening’s festivities.

I sat him down on the closed toilet seat and dampened a clean wash cloth in order to wash away the grit and grime that was in the raw skin on his face. There were more areas to be cleaned on his torso – he really had done a bit of a number on himself in a short amount of time.

“Want a shower,” he mumbled.

“You feel steady on your feet now?”

“You could hold me up,” he suggested, peering at me from under his lashes. He and Danny had certain tricks in common, I thought ruefully. A boyish mischievousness that was almost irresistible was among them. Brian stood up and dropped his pants, leaving him stark naked. He looked over his shoulder at me...and smiled.

“Take a shower with me? You can scrub my back.”

“You are a devil, Brian Kinney,” I told him fervently. He just laughed, and stepped into the shower, turning the water on high...and hot.

I left the bathroom since he looked unlikely to fall and crack his head open. I went into the living room and helped myself to some scotch – and called Danny’s cell phone. He didn’t pick it up until it rang several times.

“Eti...is everything okay?” His voice was tense. I considered what to tell him. That his lover was under the influence of something and hitting on me with more than his usual level of seriousness, which was not so much? No, that was not a good idea. “More or less, my child. How are things there?”

“Pretty...intense. Can you handle things with Brian until I get there?” There was a pause. “Where are you guys anyway?”

I looked around the loft. “We’re..en route. I think it might be a good idea for me to take him back to my hotel. He is in an itchy mood, if you know what I mean? Not appropriate for your little one.”

Danny laughed uneasily. “I can imagine not, Briana would be sure to wake up and demand a front row seat. But I’m not sure if your hotel room is the best place either.”

I sighed. “I know. Believe me, I know. But what I do not know is what else to do. I could leave him....” I did not even finish the sentence before Danny broke in.

“No! Please Eti, don’t leave him. I’m needed here for a bit longer. I’m not sure what made him lose it tonight but from the way everyone reacted, it had something to do with the Rage comic and Brian’s history with Justin. But that’s just my guess. So far I’ve been caught up into this family matter to the exclusion of all else so I need you to keep him from self-destructing. He can get like...well...like....”

“Like you,” I said softly.

He laughed humorlessly. “Oh surely he’s not that bad. Eti! Listen, I’m sorry to dump on you like this but...”

“Not at all. I’m your friend and Brian’s. But...hurry up, Danny. I left Eli there so he’ll be able to bring you to me when you’re ready.”

After Danny thanked me and hung up, I turned to find a naked Brian standing behind me.

“Well, do we have permission to play, ‘Eti’ mon cher? I have a whole collection of toys in the bedroom, let’s just walk upstairs and you can show me how those long legs of yours feel...” He wrapped his arms around me and started nuzzling my neck. I stifled a moan.

“I have a better idea. Let’s go to my place, Brian. I have a bir...a something for you. But it requires that you have clothes on for you to get it. So as much as I am enjoying...very much enjoying...too much enjoying...your body on display, why don’t you put on clothes and we will go downstairs and you will dr...I mean, see, your new, ah, thing.”

“Thing is it? I am quite satisfied with my old...ah, my current thing, and I think you will be too if you give it a whirl.”

I laughed. “I can see that thing is quite attractive and I’ve no doubt it gives satisfaction, but I’m too fond of you and Danny as friends to try out any things that I’ve no business trying out. So stop tempting me and go get dressed.”

Brian smirked. “I’ll get dressed. But no promises on the rest.”

I watched that firm ass and long toned back as he walked back to the bedroom. I adjusted myself and then took another gulp of scotch. It looked like it was going to be a long night.
 

************
 

I paused before I took John into the dressing room where Etienne sent Maria to wait. I put my hands on his shoulders to stop him.

“John. Stop. Would you please give me a clue as to what is going on in your head. There’s a really nice kid sitting on the other side of that door and so far this has been one of the best nights of her life. I’d like you to be sure of what you’re about to say...and how you’re going to say it. She’s not had an easy time of things since her mother....”

I stopped at the look on his face. Damn, this wasn’t going to be easy. I pulled him into a hug and just held him close for a long moment. And he let me, which was an indication of just how shook up he was. I think his face was wet with tears because when he pulled away, my shoulder felt damp. But he tried to make his question sound casual.

“Barb...her mother...she’s not with her anymore?”

“She died seven years ago. Car accident.”

“Fuck. What happened to Maria? Did she have family? A stepfather? Barb had really nice parents...a brother.”

“Parents died two years earlier. Her brother lost touch with the family. Maria had no way of reaching him. She, well, there’s no way to soft pedal this, she went into foster care for three years, from fifteen to eighteen. Her mom left a trust fund but she named her parents as trustees and they couldn’t find anyone to step forward. The court appointed person didn’t do much of anything, well, it was a rough road. Listen, maybe it would be better to talk to her tomorrow. Tonight has been really special and....”

“And you don’t want me to ruin it for her, yes, you said that already. I got the message.” John’s voice wasn’t bitter; it was just really, really sad. I felt terrible for him, but yeah, I didn’t want him to ruin Maria’s night. She deserved to go out now and celebrate the fantastic job she did without any emotional storms. I was ready to push just a little harder to get John to let things go for now but that was when the door opened. Maria stood there, her face alight with curiosity. She stared at John.

“I don’t think anything could ruin this night for me but sitting in there and listening to you two whispering out here just might drive me crazy. Who’s your tall friend, Coach?”

“This is...” I stopped dead. Should I just say this was my brother John? I looked to my brother for guidance. There are times, not often, but on very rare occasions, John manages to blend all the best qualities of my other five brothers. He shows Matt’s fatherliness, Mark’s empathy, Luke’s courage, Joey’s heart, and Jamie’s...well, something good about Jamie. Actually, Jamie has a great sense of humor and a lot of smarts, but I’d never admit as much to him. Just as I would never tell John how much I admired his strength at times like this.

John took Maria’s hands in his and led her over to the small battered sofa in the corner of the room. I stayed by the doorway, standing guard, I guess, though I must have looked like a major tool since I still had the Rage costume on. I’d grown very fond of Maria and wanted to make sure that this wasn’t more than she could handle. By the same token, I sensed that John was walking a thin edge, and needed very much for this to go well. I said a quick prayer, for both of them. They seemed so fragile to me, for such tough people.

“Maria, I’m John O’Keefe. I don’t know if your mother ever mentioned me but we were good friends in college, at Penn State, before she left.”

Maria was staring intently at John’s face, into his eyes. “She told me...you’re him, aren’t you? You’re....”

I held my breath. So much seemed to rest on what she said next. There were so many ugly, cold words she could use to describe the man who impregnated her mother but wasn’t there to help raise her. Hell, Johnny, John’s oldest son has called him the sperm donor on occasion when he was feeling especially evil. But Maria didn’t use any of those nasty names. She reached up and touched his sharp cheekbone with her fingers, and whispered,

“You’re my father.”

John pulled her close, his strong arms wrapping around her tightly. I had to blink very rapidly, as I thought about what this meant for her – the first hug from a parent in so many years.

“I am so sorry that I was not there for you,” he told her, “but I never knew about you. Your mom left without saying a word about...well, about....”

Maria pulled away. Her face was stormy. “She didn’t have much choice. She went to tell you. She couldn’t though. She was your friend, she had to do what was right, she always said. Which was why we had to go it alone. You had prior commitments.” She jumped up and started pacing.

John looked as lost as I felt. Her comments did touch off my protectiveness toward John. “Maria, what are you talking about? Your mom told you about your father, I take it? But if you knew my brother was your father, why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“Oh no! I was never told who my father was, not specifically. I just knew that my mom was friends with him, such good friends that she said, she said.....”

John stood up and walked over to take her hands again. He asked gently but firmly, “Tell me what she said, Maria. I don’t understand why she would have thought that I wouldn’t have wanted to know about you, or be there for both of you. I would have honored my....” He paused, searching for the right words. She looked at him sadly.

“Responsibility? Mom knew you would have done, well, done what you ought. She didn’t want to make you have to. She didn’t need to be told to back off, though. She understood her place.”

I had to ask. “What are you talking about, sweetie? Who would have told your mom to back off? John is lots of things but I cannot in a million years imagine him telling any friend to stay in her place – he’s more of your honorable, stand by his woman kind of guy.”

Maria gave a sad smile. “Mom knew that. It was one of the things she loved so much about him. But no man can stand by two women at one time, Mom said, and she told me that the other one had dibs.” She rolled her eyes. “Mom was honorable too. Only she was stupid.”

John frowned. “She wasn’t stupid.”

Maria crossed her arms across her chest. “I didn’t say she was...most of the time. Listen, I’m willing to give you a chance because that’s what she would have wanted, but I’m not going to be your little girl.”

John looked cowed but little girl attitude was something I was used to dealing with. I folded my arms across my chest and gave the attitude right back to her. “If you’re not a little girl, then you won’t have any trouble acting like a grown-up instead of a brat. This is tough on John just like it’s tough on you – and while you had knowledge that you had a dad, he didn’t know he had a daughter, so cut him some slack.”

John gave me an odd look, while Maria glared for a second, then giggled. “You’re right, I knew I had a dad – like, I wasn’t a test tube baby. Mom was not at all good at science.” She turned back toward John. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, and a hell of a lot I don’t know about you, but I can tell you, Mom never said anything bad about you. She got mad at me if I did, in fact, which I did. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to lie to you. I hated you for a long time, once I was old enough to understand what a bastard was.”

John’s flinch was almost imperceptible but I knew his face pretty well – it was so similar to my own, after all. I thought about intervening again but Maria was waving her hand airily.

“No, really, it wasn’t that big a deal, not really. My Pops was a bit strict, he was a minister, did you know that?” John nodded, but I was surprised. Maria hadn’t mentioned that before. Damn, that must have made her mother’s homecoming a bit more difficult – not that it is ever easy for a daughter to come home knocked up. My family certainly hadn’t taken the news well when it was Angel.

“Anyway, Pops wanted to know who it was, Mom had said, because he thought the father should know about his daughter, but my Grandmother said that Mom had told him my father was promised to someone else, which made them even more disappointed in her, as she made it seem like she had seduced a man who was taken. Was that what it was like?” Maria looked at my handsome brother and managed to infuse her innocent seeming words with about ten tons of skepticism. To the surprise of both of us, John didn’t take that passively. It was his turn to start pacing in an agitated way after biting off an expletive. He turned and faced both of us.

“Of course Barb never seduced me, for God’s sake, she wouldn’t know where to begin. She was the original tomboy. The only use she had for guys was as teammates.” He shot a look at me. “Which wasn’t to say that she liked women – she wasn’t a lesbian, she was just more focused on sports. But the thing is, it wasn’t a seduction by me either. Barb was my friend. She was one of the few people I could just hang out with and not have to put up this whole front of being the soccer star, the homecoming king, class president, you name it. We played basketball together – you know how forbidden it was in our family to play any other sport but soccer, Danny. Barb got me to play pickup games with her...for fun.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Which is great, John, but I’m kind of seeing what Dad had against b-ball if it leads to girls getting pregnant – never saw that happen from a good hard game of soccer.”

Maria giggled. John cursed again, but I held up my hands in surrender before he tried throwing a punch – never knew with John.

“Pax! I have had a few athletic endeavors turn sexual, and hell, my agent Vince practically counts on it, so I can imagine that you and your gal pal were working up a sweat on the court one day and somehow one thing led to another – but you knew you had sex, right? And you had to know that sex has consequences sometimes.”

I think Maria and I probably had the same expectant expression at that point, like, explain this one, big guy. John sat down, his hands clasped loosely between his knees as he stared at the floor. I got the feeling he was seeing something far different than the slightly dirty carpeting of the dressing room. His eyes had that smoky green look they get when he is lost in his own thoughts.

“I know you think I don’t know the meaning of birth control but I really do, little brother. I feel awkward explaining this to my daughter, but I feel like I owe you an explanation, Maria. Your mother and I got carried away, but we weren’t that irresponsible. We did have sex – once – but we used protection. It...” John couldn’t have turned any redder if he laid out on an Atlantic City beach in July with no sunblock, I thought, amused despite the seriousness of the topic. There really must be something wrong with me, I decided, that I wished I could share this with Jamie and Brian – but no way could I ever tell them. They’d crucify John with teasing if they knew. I bit the inside of my mouth to stop myself from showing any reaction but even so, John looked at me suspiciously.

“The condom broke,” I suggested, my voice totally innocent.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“Well, I guess I’m not sorry about that,” Maria interjected, while I tried to think of sad things – and of course, remembering that she was sitting there promptly made me somber again. “But you really shouldn’t have been fooling around if you were engaged....”

“But I wasn’t,” John protested, looking slightly bewildered. “I didn’t become engaged until,” he paused, and you could tell he was adding the months up in his head, “until five months later. “Mickey and I were on the outs then, actually. She wasn’t even dating me, I forget what she was mad about. But it was why I was spending a lot of time playing basketball. We made up after that, and then, yes, she got pregnant about four months later, and when we found out, a month after, we got engaged immediately, but your Mom had left school by then. A friend of hers told me she was transferring to a school closer to home. I was never able to locate her.”

I had a bad feeling about this. “Maria, did you get any more information from your Mom or grandparents about why your Mom never told John that she was expecting his child?”

It was Maria’s turn to look down at her hands. John sat down next to her and I moved to her other side. He tipped her chin up. “What happened to make her leave like that? We were friends, I would have helped her.”

She took a deep breath. “I wasn’t given much when Mom died. You know that, Danny. But one thing I was able to get before they sent me away were her journals, her diaries, kind of. She kept them ever since she was a kid. I held onto those composition books from home to home. That’s how I knew that she was happy when she was expecting me – even though she had to give up her scholarship at Penn and finish school at night. And I knew that she loved the man who fathered me – as a friend, sure, but a little bit more as well, which is why she knew he loved someone else and she didn’t want to stand in the way of that. So when she found out from the other girl that she was pregnant too – Mom knew the only decent thing she could do was leave town. And you’re right on your math – Mom was about four months along, but being an athlete and all, she took a while to figure out that she was pregnant, and she didn’t show for the longest while.”

John was quiet. He looked stunned. I wasn’t stunned. I was working on angry. “Are you saying that your Mom somehow talked to Mickey, John’s first wife, and she told your Mom that she was pregnant?”

“She went to go talk to him, but his girlfriend, Michelle is what Mom called her in her journal, was there, and she figured out somehow that Mom was expecting, because she told her that she was expecting too, and Mom made up a story about a boy back home when she asked about the father.”

“But Mickey wouldn’t have known she was pregnant then,” John said quietly, though I knew he wasn’t questioning Maria, it was just the lawyer in him sorting out the evidence. If Barb had presented herself to Mickey as a good friend of John’s, and was four months pregnant, at a time when Mickey was soon to become “unexpectedly” pregnant, but not known to be pregnant for another month, how, and why, did Mickey tell Barb she was already pregnant with John’s child?

To achieve exactly the result that she got – a rival leaving town?

I liked Mickey a lot, always have, so I really didn’t want to think this was true. Maybe Barb Senyour had misunderstood? I ran my hand through my hair – this was getting too complicated to work out in one night. John must have reached the same conclusion. He stood up and held his hand out to Maria.

“Maria, we clearly have a lot to talk about – and I have a lifetime to catch up on with you. But I know you have friends waiting to celebrate with you. Can we meet tomorrow, for breakfast?”

She smiled shakily, but warmly. “Make that brunch and you’ve got a deal.” They clasped hands and then, after a pause, turned it into a hug. Releasing John, Maria turned to me, her cheeks damp but her eyes sparkling with humor as much as with tears.

“Do I still get to hug you...and do I have to call you ‘Uncle’ Danny now?”

I groaned as I recalled some of the details of the scenes we had filmed. John growled, no doubt recalling the ones that were in the video – which were tamer than what had not made it to the final cut. I assumed my most avuncular demeanor.

“Of course you may hug me – in a niece to uncle way. No body parts below the shoulder touching.”

She laughed and gave me a full-bodied, bone-crushing hug. “I think it might be nice to have some family,” she confided, with a wide smile at both of us. I opened the door to the dressing room as she spoke, and on the other side of the door were a good dozen O’Keefes. I closed it and turned, with my back pressed against it.

“You want to rethink that?”
 

************
 

I followed Lanier downstairs to the parking garage, curious to see what his plan was. I was still feeling the buzz from whatever the fuck I’d taken earlier – Anita never fails – but I had a clearer head than when I was in The Rack Room. Whatever the fuck I’d been thinking of to go to that loser line-up, I couldn’t imagine, but I was glad that Lanier had gotten rid of that freak who’d outstayed his welcome. For now, I intended to amuse myself torturing Lanier and seeing how far his heroic role as friend to Danny would take him once I really pushed his buttons.

A guy needed to find his fun where he could get it, after all.

Lanier came to a stop by the side of a 1958 Porsche 356 Speedster – perfectly restored by the looks of it. Forget sex – this car was better, I thought I just might come in my jeans from looking at it.

“Is this yours?” I asked, trying to keep the drooling envy out of my voice.

“Actually – it’s yours. Do you like it?”

I was going to come in my pants. No – if I did that I wouldn’t let me sit on the upholstery. “It’s beautiful....” I was proud, my voice hardly cracked. “Beyond beautiful...but it sure isn’t mine. I’d remember a beauty like this.”

Lanier smiled. “It has a set of keys with your name on them. But I’m not too sure how wise it would be for you to drive right now. Perhaps....”

“No way would I drive her in my present condition – are you crazy? I love her! I love her so much I’m not even going to waste time asking why or saying it’s too much, or pretending I can’t possibly accept such an extravagant gift. A 356! An original from the first year of production, you’re amazing, Lanier.”

“Shall we give her a test drive and see how she goes?”

I looked at him. Does Saturday follow Friday? Does a headache follow a binge? All I said though, was, “Sure.”

The car was amazing, rode like a dream. I wished I hadn’t gotten high and drunk so that I could drive her myself but I was willing to wait. The last thing I wanted was to get a dent – or worse – due to being impaired.

I confess that I talked a bit... incessantly... about cars, classic cars, classic Porsche cars...on the ride to wherever Lanier was taking me, but the thing was, he seemed to genuinely like listening. When he commented, his remarks were pertinent and reflected a real knowledge of cars. Danny liked fast cars but he didn’t have a true car fanatic’s passion for cars. To him, they were a way of getting from one point to another and looking good while doing it. Lanier was as much of a car buff as I was.

It was one of his nicer qualities that when he gave a gift, money was no object – but in the best sense of the phrase. He once brought Em a particular type of omelet pan or cheese grater, some kitchen item, that wasn’t particularly expensive but was very difficult to find outside of France. He found out from his stepmother where it could be bought and went on his own to get it. It was the same with the guitar he gave Danny last year. Danny has a dozen guitars, but owning one that had been played by Eric Clapton? That was special. That was a Lanier style gift.

I really had to come up with some way to thank him.

We arrived at the hotel where Lanier was staying. He insisted on parking it in the VIP spot himself instead of entrusting the car to the valet parking guys. Probably a good idea. I still get pissed when I remember how the Westin garage guy took my Vette for a ride the first time I’d been with Danny – lucky for them I was still in the afterglow.

We entered the hotel and were greeted by a gaggle of press and paparazzi. Lanier grumbled, “Never should have left Eli behind,” but you’d never have known from his demeanor that he was anything but pleased to see the bottom-feeders. He shook hands, posed for photos, politely answered a few questions about how the event at Babylon had gone. He smoothly answered questions about me, saying only that I was a friend and business associate and we were waiting for my partner and his other friend, Danny O’Keefe, to finish up at the club and meet us here.

After about ten minutes of Stephan Lane, movie star, he smiled his self-deprecating smile and suggested that we’d had a long day and perhaps the gentlemen would be kind enough to let us adjourn to his suite for refreshments and relaxation?

The gentlemen were all apologies – how could they have kept such a charming star as Mr. Lane from his well-deserved rest? And whatever relaxation he planned, some of them added, with a knowing look at my disheveled appearance. I rolled my eyes. I would have told them to fuck off but Lanier dragged me away.

“Why do you act so nice to those jerks,” I asked, once we were on the elevator heading to his suite.

He leaned against the wall of the elevator and closed his eyes. I wondered if he was counting to ten. Probably more, I decided, as it took until we reached the penthouse on the thirtieth floor before he answered. “It does not benefit me to act like a jerk to those people who make their livelihood by selling their pictures and their stories. It takes only a few minutes of my time to give them something they can use – and it benefits me, because if there is ever a time when they have the chance to do me ill – well, most of them will let the opportunity pass.”

“You think so?” I doubted it. Most people only cared for the almighty buck in my experience. The bell dinged for our floor and Lanier pushed off the wall of the elevator and headed out before answering. I followed, increasing my pace in order to hear his softly spoken answer.

“Well, I guess I’ll find out tomorrow when we see what type of spin they put on you being here with me.” He swiped his cardkey into the slot and opened the door.

I followed him in and then pushed the door closed behind me. I walked behind Etienne, who had gone directly to the bar.

“Would you like....?” Before he could finish his question, I pulled him close and kissed him. I took my time and explored his mouth thoroughly, letting my hands rest lightly on his shoulders. He remained passive for a good thirty seconds or so, but then he moved his hands to my back and turned his head so that he could deepen the kiss. But he broke it off before it could get too interesting...yet.

“This is not a good idea, Brian. Instead, why don’t we talk about why you ran out of the club?”

I frowned. My plan was designed to avoid talking. And get us both off. I reached for the whiskey.

“Want ice?” Etienne asked, holding out a filled bucket. Nice that the hotel kept it stocked. I really needed to upgrade my travel arrangements. I made a mental note to speak to Cynthia. I had to fill my own ice buckets, or wait for them to be filled by the bellhop when I arrived..

“Yeah,” I said, accepting a filled glass from Etienne, which I then filled with the Jack Daniels. Lanier poured himself a glass of scotch, neat, and downed it before filling his glass with ice and adding some more of the booze. Hardly a way to drink thirty year old scotch but no doubt he needed a bit of liquid courage. I laughed and decided to take pity of him...for a little while at least.

“I won’t talk but I’ll listen to you. Tell me a story, Lanier,” I invited. I was beginning to shake the reckless mood that had been with me all night but now I was feeling incredibly horny. “Danny’s told me that you are a wonderful storyteller, though I really didn’t need him to tell me. That voice of yours...you could always do books on tape you know if the movie star gig doesn’t pan out.”

He laughed and relaxed, as I intended. No good seducing someone who’s all stressed. Besides, it was bad form in my book to upset someone who just gave me the most incredible car in the world. I dropped down onto the plush divan. A basket of fruit and candy sat on the table next to me. I picked through it before finally selecting an apple.

Lanier sat down on the sofa opposite me. “I think I will tell you a story. The story of why you left tonight. Left in a rush a celebration that, while not technically for you, was certainly expected by one particular green-eyed man to thrill you.”

I growled but it didn’t faze him. He smiled; this time it was his wolfish smile. “Don’t bother telling me that I – and that Rage commercial – can go to hell. You’ve already made that quite clear. And I suspect that it has nothing to do with Danny or me, but rather because somehow, in your rather dramatic romantic past with Monsieur Taylor, there was some bad episode involving Rage, maybe even Babylon.”

“So clever,” I said. “You make it sound like it was some petty little difference of opinion, but it was.....” How to describe it? How to make it sound like something more than a petty fight and bad behavior all around? I frowned. Well, maybe it was more of a pout. Lanier chuckled, damn him.

“Relationships can be such tricky things,” Lanier mused, holding his glass up to the light and looking at how the light shone through the amber liquid. “You think things are going so well and then, all unknowing, you stumble onto a landmine and things blow up in your face. Hurts like hell, and, worse, you look like a fucking fool to everyone and his brother.”

I remained quiet but couldn’t help thinking, damn straight. But then Lanier said, “When I first met Danny, it happened all the time. The first night we were together, he’d asked me to come to a party at his apartment. I was thrilled. This...this god that I’d met that day was inviting me over for what he called a slumber party. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I knew it would be better than my lonely apartment. I brought wine – who goes to a party without bringing some refreshments, yes?”

I looked up from my contemplation of my feet. “You brought wine? To the apartment he shared with....”

Etienne’s smile was rueful. “Exactly. To the apartment he shared with the lovely Angel, who was about ten steps short of a successful twelve step program. You would have known that was a mistake, all of his other guests knew that was a mistake. Even Edward Simon, the villain of the piece knew not to bring alcohol to the O’Keefe siblings’ apartment. But moi? I was the fool who did not know.”

“Well, how could you know,” I pointed out, reasonably. “You’d just met Danny. It wasn’t like anyone would have told you something like that on a first meeting. Hi, how are you, by the way, my sister’s a lush.”

“Of course they would not. But neither would someone ever be likely so share every traumatic event, or even mildly distressing ones, that occurred during the course of past relationships.”

I raised my gaze. “You have a point?”

“My point is that Danny wouldn’t have known about whatever it was that set you off. That first night, he almost blew me off completely because of the wine. Maybe he’d have been better off seeing how things turned out in the long run.....” I snorted. Lanier’s smile in response was one of his better ones. “Merci – in truth, I think we were good for each other. I regret the years we were estranged but it makes me value all the more the friendship we have now.”

“Which is why you don’t want to fool around with me?”

“Not just because of that,” he said softly. His eyes were an intense shade of blue, very different from another set of blue eyes I’d known. Etienne’s were sharp, knowing. Right now, I felt as though they were looking deep into me.

“I want to fuck you,” I told him, getting up and moving over to the sofa.

“The trouble is...I want that too,” he answered, before falling back beneath me.

Neither of us heard the door open. We were too busy pulling each other’s shirts off. The first clue we had was a deep voice saying reflectively, “When I asked you to take care of Brian for me until I could get away, perhaps I should have been more specific.”

Tbc....