In My Father’s House

by E. Lynn Harris

  I stiffened as anger pumped through my whole body. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, B, I wish I was. Now I can’t get in contact with Seth. What do you think I should do?”

  I forced myself to sound calm. “Jah, you need to get on a plane and bring yourself back to Miami. Now. I don’t like how this sounds.”

  I hated the whiny sound in Jah’s voice as he said, “I want to hear from Seth first. Maybe both of these guys are lying and just trying to get rid of me.”

  I shook my head, wishing I could shake some sense into that boi. “But you said Seth told you to stop being so uptight. He could be behind it, Jah.”

  “He loves me and wouldn’t do that to me.”

  “Jah, get on a plane and come back home!” The fantasy was over and we needed to let the curtain fall before somebody else wrote a tragic final scene.

  Jah whined again, “I don’t have an apartment anymore.”

  “You can stay here until we find you another one.”

  “I need to see Seth and find out what’s going on.”

  “Jah!” I almost shouted. “Why are you putting yourself through this?”

  “Because I wanted to be loved, B.” The sadness and desperation in his voice gave me goose bumps.

  “You are loved, Jah. More than you know. I love you.”

  “I know,” he sighed, “but I’m talking about a different kind of love. You’re like a big brother to me.”

  “Jah, you said you were scared and I think you have reason to be. Come home, Jah.”

  “Oh, wait a minute!” He sounded excited. “This is Seth calling me. I’ll call you back, B.”

  “Jah!”

  No Jah. Just the dial tone.

  I waited about an hour before trying to call Jah back, but I didn’t get an answer. I thought maybe if I went and got something to eat, the meal might take my mind off Jah. I grabbed a light jacket and as soon as I opened my door, I had a guest standing there. For a second I didn’t recognize him, but the afternoon in my office on the desk came back into my memory quickly.

  As I stared at his gorgeous face and his huge, athletic body, I flashed back to the erotic encounter we’d shared a few months ago. It was Daniel. He was the model who had no condoms but made me cum like a teenager from just humpin’ on my lap.

  “Daniel,” I said with surprise and delight, “what are you doing here?”

  He smiled. “You remember my name. That’s a good sign. What’s up?”

  “I was getting ready to grab a quick bite. I wasn’t expecting a guest.”

  He devoured me with his eyes as he said, “I started to call, but I thought a surprise might be better. Can I come in?”

  “Sure, I’m sorry.”

  Daniel walked in, looking very dapper in all white. I led him to the living room and offered him a seat. He plopped down on the sofa like he’d been to my house before.

  I sat down on the couch, glad that Daniel was distracting me from my worries about Jah. “So why haven’t I heard from you before this evening?”

  Daniel looked down at the glossy magazines on my coffee table as he said, “I had some out-of-town business and I didn’t have your number in my cell phone. I’d got a call the day I met you and left your info next to my bed.”

  I smiled as he looked back up at me. With a seductive voice, I said, “Sounds like a good place for it. Is everything okay?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “With your out-of-town business.”

  Daniel flipped through a magazine. “Yeah, I had to take care of something in Chicago.” Then he made eye contact and asked, “How’s the modeling business?”

  I noticed how large and beautiful his hands were. “Things are still slow. The industry needs a little stimulus like everybody else.”

  He pressed his hand to his flat stomach and asked, “So where were you going to get something to eat?”

  I told him I had decided to get in the car and just drive until something caught my eye.

  “Cool,” he said. “Looks like I came at the right time.”

  Just as I was getting ready to see if Daniel wanted to join me for dinner, my cell phone rang and Warren’s name flashed across my screen.

  “I need to take this,” I said as I stood and walked near the wall unit. I heard Daniel tell me to take my time. I nodded at him and watched him pick up one of my photographic art books from the coffee table.

  “Hey, Warren, what’s up, guy?”

  “Just thinking about you and thought I’d give you a call.”

  “That’s cool. Where you hanging these days?” For a split second I thought about taking the call in another room. After all, Daniel was a stranger, even though we’d simulated the wild thing on my desk.

  “Right now I’m out in California on business.”

  His boyfriend at the party appeared in my mind. I’m sure I made a snarling face. “Is that business in the form of your actor friend?”

  “I might see him while I’m here, but I came out here for a couple of meetings with agents.”

  “How’s that going?” Daniel had now closed the book.

  “It’s cool. I’m thinking about making the move out here.”

  Why was I not surprised? Warren was king of mystery, a moving target. “So it looks like I’m going to lose out again.”

  “Don’t talk like that, boo. Besides, if you really want me, you could always move out here.”

  “My business is here, Warren.” My inner voice was whispering that I shouldn’t have this conversation in front of Daniel, but the rest of my brain was telling me I was being overly cautious because my imagination was running wild about Jah’s safety.

  “Nothing is final, Bent.”

  “Cool,” I said, knowing that this conversation would go nowhere except in frustrating circles. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure, boo boo.”

  Daniel was perusing one of Miami’s glossy lifestyle magazines. I turned my back to him and lowered my voice: “Do you think you’ll see Seth or any PGC members?”

  Warren answered, “I don’t know, why?”

  “I’m a little worried about my young friend that I was telling you about. He moved out there and I want to see if you can find out if he’s all right.”

  Warren sounded eager to help. “What’s his name again?”

  “Everybody just calls him Jah.”

  “Let me see what I can find out.”

  “Thanks, Warren, I would appreciate that. Hey, a friend dropped by, so I’m being a little rude right now. Can I give you a call a little later?”

  “Yeah, Bent, that’s what’s up. Hopefully when I come to see you, that friend will be gone.”

  “I’ll make sure, Warren. You stay out of trouble.”

  “I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises. Take it slow, boo.”

  “Bye.”

  I hung up and walked back to the sofa near Daniel. “Sorry about that.”

  He flashed that gorgeous smile. “Hey, Bentley, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but did I hear you say ‘Seth’ and ‘PGC’ in the same sentence?”

  I eyed Daniel with suspicion and nodded. Damn, that was not the smartest move to have that conversation in front of this guy I didn’t know.

  “I thought so,” Daniel said. “Is that who you were booking for when I came to see you?”

  I warned Daniel that I didn’t know him very well and even if I did, I wouldn’t discuss my client roster with him unless I was sending him out on a go-see or a booking.

  “I understand,” he said, “but when you told me about the job, I thought immediately that it had to do with Seth Sinclair and his band of merry men.”

  I tried to keep a cool face, showing no surprise. “So you know Seth?”

  “Yeah, and I don’t mind telling you—”

  I felt nervous for a split second as a disturbed expression flashed across Daniel’s face.

  “—meeting him turned out to be one of the worst moments of my life,”
Daniel said. “That guy gives the devil suggestions.”

  “That bad?”

  “That bad.”

  Daniel said he’d met Seth five years ago at a party where he was booked to just go and be a party guest. Since he was one of the younger guys there, he said he was picked to keep the king company that evening.

  “Next thing I know,” Daniel said, “I’m being showered with expensive gifts and more money that I ever thought I’d make at such a young age.”

  I asked if Seth moved him to California.

  Daniel shifted on the couch. “No, he kept me here, but I made several trips to the West Coast before it started getting crazy.”

  I drew my brows together and asked with an urgent tone, “What do you mean, crazy?”

  “First of all, Seth Sinclair and his cohorts think they can buy any man or boi they choose. And when they tire of them, which is quick, they pass them around just like an old pair of pants they’ve outgrown. It took me almost two years to get away from him and those horny old men.”

  I closed my eyes, praying that Jah would get the hell out of there. I thought about getting on a plane and going out there myself to bring him home to the safety and sanity of Miami.

  “Daniel, are you telling me the truth? And why didn’t you tell me when I told you about the job?”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t my business. I knew if it was Seth, then he was paying you a lot of money to find bois for him.”

  “I was finding models for his representative,” I said, defending myself. I had a sudden feeling that I’d shared too much information with Daniel. What if he was actually sent here to fish for information from me?

  Daniel asked who Seth had picked at the party. “Let me guess. Someone young, good-looking with a nice ass and pretty big package. If this guy is a friend or one of your top models you should warn him before he gets caught up in that crazy shit.” Daniel buried his face in his hands for a moment. “Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat thinking about some of the stuff that man had me do.”

  My head was spinning with bad scenarios involving Jah and Seth. Now I was really worried about Jah, and curious at the same time, but I didn’t want to pry too much. I got the gist of what Seth Sinclair was up to. Daniel just confirmed my thoughts. I asked Daniel how he got away.

  “I had to meet with several attorneys and sign lots of papers saying I would never talk about this crap.”

  I gave him a puzzled look. “Then why are you telling me?”

  “Because I know you probably signed some papers as well,” Daniel said, “and trust me when I tell you that crossing Seth Sinclair is not a wise move. That’s why I was up in Chicago. I was there tending to a friend of mine who didn’t listen to Seth’s warning, because when these people say ‘watch your back’ they mean it.”

  Oh, shit. I immediately thought of Wilson and his dead friend. This couldn’t be a simple coincidence. “What happened?”

  Daniel shook his head and stood up. “Look, Bentley, I’ve said too much already. I just came over here to see if we could finish what we started in your office, but I’m suddenly out of the mood.”

  I stood. “I’m sorry, Daniel, but I’ll have to give you a rain check on hitting the sheets. After talking to you, I need to check on my friend.”

  He looked at me with the sad expression of a missed opportunity. “Yeah, you do that. I’ll be around and you’re going to like what I got to offer.”

  I smiled, remembering the visual of his huge dick in my office.

  “I took a year off from sex after dealing with Seth and company,” Daniel said. “I wanted to make sure those people didn’t leave me any gifts I wouldn’t want, if you get my drift. So you were going to be my foray back into having a normal sex life.”

  “I guess I should be honored.”

  “Yeah, you should be.”

  Daniel leaned over, gave me a peck on the forehead, and vanished out the door.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Alexandria opened the door of her apartment in a chic art deco building not far from the office. It was painted a soft shade of orange, like cantaloupe, that relaxed me as I stepped inside. Her cozy furniture was faux suede, so as soon as I sat on the couch, I sunk down and got comfortable.

  She had the flat screen on while the coffee table offered a spread of nachos, pineapple slices, mixed nuts, and popcorn.

  “I feel like we’re about to watch a football game,” I said playfully, popping a nacho into my mouth.

  “You’re gonna help me score a touchdown,” Alex said, looking so different than she did at the office. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail but fell in soft wisps around her cosmetic-free face. She wore no jewelry. And baggy pink sweats had replaced her femme fatale, form-fitting skirts and blouses. No spiked heels tonight; she wore fluffy white shearling slippers.

  “We’re about to switch on the baby-daddy shopping channel,” she said, aiming the remote at the DVD player under the flat screen. It was attached to the wall facing us.

  I chomped some pecans and cashews, feeling a little nervous about this. “Alex, tell me what you’re looking for again.”

  “Intelligent, handsome, healthy, tall, and allergy-free.” She said it like she was ordering ingredients in an omelet.

  An introduction played from the sperm bank, explaining that she would have a choice between men who wanted complete anonymity and men who wanted to play a role in the child’s life.

  A gorgeous blond showed up on the screen first. “Hi, my name is Greg. I’m a full-time surfer, so I have great coordination and balance. I have very low body fat and long, lean muscles. I’m six-three and weigh one-sixty—”

  I looked at Alex, who was mesmerized. But she said, “Sounds a little skinny.”

  I looked at her harder, wondering if she was going to consider what was obvious to me. “And?”

  “Shhh, he hasn’t mentioned his education yet,” she said.

  “—and I was on the dean’s list at UCLA, but I decided not to go to law school,” he said. “My family’s pretty all-American. My mom stayed home while my dad ran a chain of restaurants. So I love to cook—”

  “He makes the cut,” she said, clicking to the next guy.

  “Pause!” I ordered. “Alex, you’d cross the color line to find some sperm?”

  She looked at me like I’d just asked her if she’d eat at dinnertime.

  “Of course I would,” she said. “What’s the big deal?”

  I yanked up a nacho chip covered in gooey cheese and a jalapeño slice. “I guess it’s not a big deal, since you’re biracial yourself.”

  She smiled, aiming the remote, but she paused when I said, “That baby would come out superlight. French vanilla. A drop of coffee in the cream.”

  She pushed the button. “Hush, Bentley Dean. I’m ’bout to find the darkest brotha on here and put him on the list, too. It doesn’t matter to me.”

  “Well go ’head with your bad self,” I teased. “I like lookin’ at these dudes, too. I’m still trippin’, though, that we’re shopping for a sperm donor through a DVD.”

  She smiled. “Welcome to the new millennium. You should see the Web sites. You can pick the sperm donor’s hair color, eye color, race, religion, ethnicity, height, and weight. Then you click and up pops that type of sperm, and they tell you which sperm bank has it.”

  It seemed like the good old-fashioned way was easier than all that. “So, Alex, you’re an equal opportunity sperm seeker?”

  “The sperm bank told me not a lot of black guys donate,” she said. “In fact, they said some sperm banks have no black sperm!”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “They didn’t say. These guys get paid. One donor said he made sixteen grand over four years.”

  “Why aren’t more brothers signing up to donate? They could get paid and help black women and couples get pregnant.”

  Alex scooped up a handful of mixed nuts and popped a few in her mouth. “Maybe they’re getting pregnant the natural way, without a
ll the formalities. Personally, I think this is safer. All the donors are screened for HIV and other STDs. But when you do it naturally, you have to have unsafe sex. Yuck!”

  She clicked on the next guy. “Hi, my name is Edward—”

  “No!” Alex and I exclaimed in unison.

  We laughed.

  “Guess we agree on that one,” she said. “Next!”

  “I’m Anthony,” said an olive-skinned man with dark wavy hair and warm brown eyes.

  “Italian?” she asked.

  “Beautiful comes from any country,” I said. “Definitely Italian or Latin, but no accent.”

  “I have an MBA from Stanford and a BA from Yale. I play soccer, I’m on a debate team, and I’m a marathon runner. I own a software company and I love to hike in the mountains.”

  Alex stared. “I wish this were a dating service.” She sighed. “His fine ass would be mine!”

  “You’d have to fight me for that dude,” I said playfully.

  “Sorry, Bentley, the FDA said gay men can’t be sperm donors, due to the HIV risk.”

  “For real?”

  She nodded.

  “This is a trip,” I said. “What’s next?”

  “You help me pick my baby daddy. I get artificially inseminated. And you become a godfather.”

  This was still feeling a little wild for me, so I reached for more nachos and looked up at yet another man offering to help Alex make a baby.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Over a week had passed and still no word from Jah. I’d left so many messages on his cell phone that now it was full and not accepting any more messages. I was worried, so I called Daniel to see if I could get some more information out of him. He told me he had already told me too much and was worried about his safety. When I asked him what he meant by that, he told me that it would be best to just stop worrying about Jah because when he got a little older, he would be released to pasture by Seth and his cohorts.

  That would have reassured me, except for the fact that Daniel’s tone of voice made me doubt that what he was saying was true. Was Daniel trying to tell me that he escaped, but too many others didn’t? Seth probably picked boys like he was casting them as extras in a film of his sick, sordid life.