Radford leaned too close to me, as if he were sharing a secret, and said, “I’m trying to get him to audition for this independent movie I’m doing. He’ll be perfect for it. He would play a black James Bond character.”
“I’ve never acted before,” Warren said.
“Just be yourself—the dick daddy that you are.” Radford looked at me like he was announcing breaking news. “Warren is bigger than being a sportscaster, even if it is a national station.”
“So it’s network, Warren?” I asked. “That’s been your dream for a while.”
Warren said modestly, “Well, it’s a cable network.”
“Still sounds like a wonderful opportunity.”
“I think he can do better,” Radford said, “and I’m going to stay on him until he relents and gives it a try.”
I looked at Warren, thinking, I bet Radford will stay on you long after that.
The awkward silence that ensued was my cue to exit stage left.
I needed to find Jah. I scanned the room for him and Sterling. I had to make sure everything was okay.
“Nice meeting you, Radford,” I said, hardly looking at him. “And, Warren, it’s always great seeing you.” I glanced into his eyes, wondering if I would ever see him again, and if I even cared.
“Nice seeing you, Bentley.” He smiled. “I’ll give you a call before I leave.”
“Maybe we can take you to brunch or dinner,” Radford offered.
“That would be cool,” I said.
Like hell it would. I was about to step away when Warren said, “Take care, Bent.”
A chill shot through me. I was shocked to hear him call me that private pet name in public. That was a first. It never happened when we were together.
I needed to leave now, before I got into a catfight with Radford over Warren.
“I will,” I said coolly, stepping away. “You guys enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“Oh, we will, Bent,” Radford said.
My pet name on his voice hit me like fingernails across a blackboard. Yeah, I had to get the hell away from both of them. Now.
I looked around the media room, but Jah was nowhere amid the red velvet theater-style seats, the popcorn stand, or the huge white screen where men were mingling. As I hurried toward the door, I almost bumped into Sterling.
“I was looking for you,” Sterling said. “I have someone I want you to meet.”
“Who?” I asked impatiently. “Have you seen Jah?”
“Yeah,” Sterling said casually, “Jah is changing into some swim trunks. He’s doing fine. Really nice young man.”
“Yeah, young man.”
“Follow me.” Sterling led me down a long hallway. I couldn’t help but notice how nice everything was in this beautiful house. Expensive crown molding, Brazilian wood floors, and very rich, bright colors. I followed him into a modern, metallic kitchen that was bigger than most restaurant kitchens. Men and women in white chef uniforms were preparing fancy foods over open flames. It smelled like I had walked into culinary heaven.
“This is our chef for the evening, LaBron Wolfe,” Sterling said.
I bowed slightly toward the thick-waisted man with a cappuccino complexion and tiny beads of sweat at his temples. “Nice to meet you, Chef LaBron. What’s on the menu tonight?”
Sterling teased, “Yeah, Chef LaBron, what’s on the menu?”
The food sizzled in a pan as he shook it over the flames. It smelled so good, I just kept inhaling.
“Well, right now, I’m working on a creamy seafood risotto and a fennel and sausage risotto. We’re going to have yogurt marinated lamb kebabs, and of course the Emperor’s favorite, stuffed flounder with frizzled mint and ginger.”
“Sounds great, LaBron,” I said. “I’d ask what’s for dessert, but I’ll let you surprise me.”
“It will be the grand finale,” LaBron said proudly.
As we walked away, I whispered to Sterling, “Who is the Emperor?”
“He’s the one paying your tab. He’s my boss and that’s where I’m taking you now.”
Sterling and I got on an elevator with gold doors that were so polished, they were like full-length mirrors. When it opened, we walked out into a huge master bedroom that had a sitting area bigger than most living rooms. A male butler was putting a bow tie on a tall man whose back was facing us.
“Emperor,” Sterling said, “I have Bentley Dean here to meet you.”
The Emperor turned around.
And I could have fallen over. I was speechless. Unless he had a twin, I was looking at Seth Sinclair, one of Hollywood’s biggest—and probably richest—actors and directors. His movies made millions. And he was not only popular in the African American community, but in the entire world. As in Tom Cruise, Tom Hanks, and Will Smith would kill for his box office receipts. I had just seen him and his wife, and their young children, on the cover of Ebony, under the headline THE FIRST FAMILY OF HOLLYWOOD. Alex was always following the celebrity gossip about his wife, because they had modeled together in New York.
Time had just featured Seth Sinclair on its list of the top fifty most important people in America.
And I was standing in his bedroom, supplying “gay friendly” models to his all-male party. He was wearing a Ralph Lauren Black Label tuxedo and I couldn’t help but notice his black Italian loafers. Seth looked even more handsome than he did on screen. Several inches taller than me, he had cinnamon-colored skin and large brown eyes that made you feel like he was seeing more than what normal people saw. His wide jaw, nose, and cheekbones had the sculpted look of a model, and his black hair lay in tiny waves close to his head. And when he smiled, it was like you’d just walked into a snow blazer.
“Bentley,” he said, “so nice to meet you. Sterling tells me you’re providing us with some of our honored guests. I’m looking forward to meeting some of them.” His voice was so smooth and deep. It was strange hearing it in person, after I’d watched him star in so many movies and present at the Academy Awards last year.
“N-nice m-meeting you,” I stuttered and shook his hand. What other surprises awaited me?
“I hope you’ll have a good time at your first PGC event,” the Emperor aka Seth Sinclair said.
“PGC?” I asked.
“That’s the name of the organization the Emperor heads,” Sterling said. “It stands for the Prosperity Gentlemen’s Club. You have to be invited to join, and membership dues start at one million dollars.”
“Are you serious?” I tried to make a joke. “I guess you wouldn’t have a lot of people on the waiting list for membership.”
“You’d be surprised,” Sterling said.
The Emperor smiled. “Well, I need to finish getting dressed. I shall see you downstairs.” He turned his back so the butler could finish securing his tie.
“Everything is ready,” Sterling said. “The members and the guests are waiting for your arrival, sir.”
“I will be there momentarily, Sterling and Bentley.”
When Sterling and I got back on the elevator, I asked, “So what’s really going on here, Sterling?”
“What are you talking about?” Sterling focused on the gold elevator buttons and pushed one.
“Is that who I think it is?”
“What do you mean?” He looked at me as if I had just spoken another language.
I cast a look that told him he could not play me for a fool. “That’s the famous actor and director Seth Sinclair. I’ve seen all of his movies, but I’ve never seen him in person.”
Sterling chuckled. “Well, I guess that’s not true anymore, but you must refer to him as the Emperor and not any other name.” But nothing was funny about the threatening way he looked at me and said, “I need to remind you of your nondisclosure and you need to remind your guys. If a word of this gets out, then we’ll sue your firm with every lawyer in our employ. Do I make myself clear?”
“Understood,” I said, “but I didn’t have a clue that was who you worked for. I thought he lived in S
an Francisco with his wife and twins.”
Sterling glanced at his diamond-faced watch. “Don’t believe everything you read. And since it looks like we’ll be doing more business together, it’s very important that we trust each other, okay?”
I was getting that same slippery, half-truth vibe as when he’d first visited my office.
“Bentley, if there are guys we like from tonight, can you fly them to our next event?”
Was he just dangling a golden carrot to make sure I followed his rules? Or was this really a chance to make more money? I said with my usual calm, cool business tone, “I’m sure if the guys want to come, we can work something out. How often do you have these events?”
“Every month. Each time in a different city. Members are not notified until the week of the event about where the party will be. I think next month will be in Hawaii. In the summer, we tend to travel abroad because the Emperor has business outside the country.”
“You mean making movies,” I said, thinking of the St. John detective series Seth had made so popular. They had even eclipsed the James Bond series.
Still, this didn’t make any sense. I’d never heard any rumors about Seth Sinclair being gay or even bisexual. And I usually heard all the rumors. All you ever heard about him was praise that he was such a big family man and how his beautiful and socialite wife was building private charter schools in poor communities. The Sinclair name was so popular that many people actually thought he could have been the first African American president if he wanted.
“No,” Sterling said, “I mean conducting his business. Now, enough with the questions, because it’s important that I continue to trust you.”
The elevator made a ding sound and the button for the first floor lit up. The golden doors started to open, but Sterling pushed a button to keep them closed. He gave me that warning look. “Bentley, there will be some more surprises as the night plays out, if all our current members show up tonight. And we do expect them because we had such a nice time the last time we had a party in Miami. You’ll see several other people you might recognize. Don’t gawk. Just act like you see them every day.”
I didn’t appreciate Sterling’s subtle attempts to intimidate me, but I had to keep reminding myself that he was the well-paying client who was actually a godsend for my agency.
“Honestly, Sterling, that might be pretty hard. Especially for some of the models, because these guys are young and impressionable.”
Sterling chuckled in a way that sounded almost sinister. “Then they better grow up fast, Bentley. I think when we get downstairs, you should tell your guys not to stare and please, please don’t ask for autographs. They need to act like they belong here. Are we on the same page?”
I nodded. “Yes, we are. I’ll make sure they know. But it would have been better if I’d been told sooner.”
“I told you your client was a very important man.”
“Yeah, but never in a million years would I have expected that it was Seth Sinclair.”
“The Emperor,” Sterling said as he opened the elevator and disappeared into the crowded living area.
The huge room was packed and loud from all the voices and live music. I spent a few minutes searching for my models. Finally, I saw Godfrey and Bendal drinking champagne. They were older guys, so I hadn’t told them they couldn’t drink.
Godfrey was tall with a basketball build and absolutely beautiful brown skin that was the color of tobacco. Bendal was a football type, thick as a piece of corn bread, and made the cut because he was interpersonally generous. I knew he’d be a hit.
“Hello, guys,” I said as I walked up to them. “I love the clothes.”
“Whassup, Bentley!” Bendal said. “Man, this shit is off the chain. I ain’t never been to a place or a party like this. Man, the only thing missing is some fly chicks.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen, guys.”
Godfrey hit Bendal on the arm and said, “Remember, we’re supposed to be gay.”
“I thought Bentley said ‘gay friendly.’ ”
“I did. Hey, fellas, let me talk to you a minute.” I moved Godfrey and Bendal into a corner where no one could hear us.
“What’s the deal, Bentley?” Godfrey asked.
“This is a bigger affair than even I suspected. There are some real high rollers here. Really famous people. So when you meet them, please don’t stare. And above all, please don’t ask for autographs.”
“Is our presidential candidate here?” Bendal asked.
“Hell no,” I said. “When I say important, I mean maybe you’ll see some actors that you’ve watched in movies. When they introduce themselves to you and give you another name, just play along. Understand?”
“Sure,” Godfrey said. “But man, I guess this is some real, undercover gay shit.”
I gave them a serious warning look. “Yeah, and remember those papers you signed. These guys will come after you if any of this gets out. I’ve been warned. So if you see any of my guys that you know, make sure you remind them, too.”
“Okay, we can do that,” Bendal said.
“Have you seen any of my guys?”
“I met the flamer named Gabriel,” Bendal said.
Godfrey laughed. “Yeah, what a jolt of sugar he is.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about Gabriel,” I said. “He’s been warned.”
Bendal laughed. “Oh, I think Gabriel’s gonna win most popular tonight.”
I looked around for more models to warn as soon as possible. “Remember, no autographs, and if someone does something or asks you to do something that makes you uncomfortable, just decline in the nicest possible way.”
“Don’t worry, Bentley, we got the memo,” Bendal said.
“Okay.” I had to find Jah. As I strolled through the house, I saw so many familiar faces that I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. I had to make sure the shock didn’t show up on my face as I saw a few more actors, several leading businessmen, and even a politician or two.
Some guys were retired athletes. Several guys obviously didn’t have the money to be members of PGC, but they had other attributes, if the gay Web sites were correct. The sight of a few porn stars—who were not sent by me—was a great relief. That lowered the chance of my guys getting propositioned for sex.
I had to find Jah, so I took the elevator back up to the floor where I’d met the Emperor. It opened onto a long hallway lined with closed doors. It was silent until I reached a room with double doors. I opened one.
All I saw was a tangle of nude male bodies. They were either old or very young. All over the floor and furniture, old guys were paired up with bois, engaging in various stages of sex acts. Moaning and groaning, they were too busy to notice me.
But at least Jah wasn’t in that mix.
I tried to get that image out of my head as I hurried back down the hallway.
Downstairs, I walked outside to the pool area. A cool breeze from the nearby ocean whipped my face. Most of the men around the heated pool wore all-white pants and jackets. Several guys were in the pool.
“Jah!” Finally! I was so relieved. He looked like he had a drink in one hand as he lounged on a pool raft, looking quite handsome in a yellow gold swimsuit. Several men were eating him up with their eyes, like Sterling had earlier. I suddenly wished he had his phone so I could text him and tell him to get his ass out of the pool, but I didn’t have the opportunity to embarrass him.
“Damn, Bentley, you’re right. There are some big ballers here.”
I turned around and there was Godfrey standing next to me. He’d changed into a powder blue bikini swimsuit that left little to the imagination and could make some of the porn stars jealous. I looked down, but didn’t linger. I took my gaze to Godfrey’s face. “I told you.”
I was pleased with myself for choosing Godfrey for this party.
“Man,” he said, “I saw some of the guys I used to watch all the time. Now some of them are old enough to be my father
, but this is some wild shit. Two of them got Gabriel in a corner, chatting him up real good.”
“Does he look okay?” I glanced at Jah, who was obviously loving every minute of this surprise night of luxury.
Godfrey laughed. “Man, they all look like long-lost friends. But you might want to check on him a little later. He is throwing down the cocktails.”
“Oh, shit,” I said. “Where is he?”
“He’s on the inside. But I’m sure he’s cool.”
“Where is Bendal?”
“He’s getting his eat on. Some dude’s been following him around like a little puppy, but my boi is handling himself correctly.”
“Cool. So I guess you’re going for a swim?” I took another look at Godfrey’s impressive package.
“Yeah, I think I will. It’s so weird being at a party without women. It’s like chips without the dip. A burger without the bun. Popcorn without butter.”
I smiled.
“Man, this is something none of my friends would believe. You sure they didn’t invite some local strippers for later on tonight?”
“Trust me, Godfrey,” I said playfully. “If strippers were invited, they’re not the kind you’re looking for.”
“Let me just go jump into the pool. Who knows? I might leave here with a sugar daddy who can pay my way through law school,” Godfrey said with a sinister laugh.
I needed a drink, so I went to the bar near the pool. It was the perfect spot to keep an eye on Jah and Godfrey.
“Can I have a glass of merlot?” I asked the shirtless bartender.
“Sure.”
Someone spoke so close to the back of my neck that it almost tickled. “There you are.”
I turned around.
It was Warren, looking splendid in a pair of white, midlength swimming trucks.
“You been looking for me?” I asked coolly, refusing to look at Warren’s bare chest as he stood beside me at the bar.
“You knew I would be.” His eyes blazed at me.
“Where is your keeper?”
“Getting toasted.”
“Really?” I glanced at Jah. “So are you a member of PGC?”
“Hell no! This is only my second event and it might be my last.”
In My Father’s House Page 9