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by Connie Bailey


  “Barry seems really happy,” Jason said. “Yeah… in a wholesome kind of way.”

  Jason laughed and hooked an arm around Spanish’s neck. “I love you,” he said in the same tone he usually used to inform Spanish what a nut he was.

  A jolt ran through Spanish as though he’d touched a wire with current running through it. His entire body tingled and fizzed and his vision swam with black velvet blobs. He’d taken three steps before he remembered to breathe. “Jason and John sittin’ in a tree,” he said lightly when the constriction of his throat eased a little.

  Jason’s trademark chuckle bubbled up. “K-IS-S-I-N-G,” he said in a singsong voice.

  “First comes love, then comes marriage,” Spanish continued.

  “But only if we move to Can-a-da,” Jason finished. Spanish laughed, and they leaned against one another as they walked on with the foaming edges of the waves washing over their feet.

  “Have you ever thought about coming out like Barry did?” Spanish asked as they reached the canal next to his house.

  “Of course I have, but no one in my organization thinks it’s a good idea. If my fans turned against me, a lot of people would be out of jobs, you know?”

  “Barry would say you should do it to show that you don’t think there’s anything wrong with being homosexual.”

  “I’m glad you’re not Barry.” Not wanting to ruin the mood, Spanish dropped the subject. What did he care if Jason was out or not? He’d just had an amazing day with a hot, sweet guy and was going to have hot, sweet

  sex with him as soon as they got home. Why rock the boat when the cruise was going so well?

  ONWEDNESDAYnight, Spanish went to the wrap party at Speltz’s Westwood mansion “Great party,” Spanish said when he found his director in the kitchen. “You look like you’re having a good time.”

  Speltz pulled his face from the cleavage of a truly epic rack and smiled at Spanish. “Come here and meet Kaycee Koczek.” The director put an arm around the woman’s tiny waist. “Kaycee, this is Spanish Joe Vega, the best there ever was.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Kaycee held out a dainty hand. “I haven’t thought of a good porn name yet.” Spanish shook her hand. “So you’re an actress?”

  “I hope to be.” Kaycee giggled. “Otherwise, my boyfriend wasted a lot of money on these.” She looked down at her substantial bosom showcased by a heart-shaped neckline.

  “Kaycee was going to go off to college, but she’s too smart for that.” Speltz pinched the girl’s dimpled cheek. “She knows she can make a ton more money in the movies.”

  “Let me guess,” Spanish said. “Kaycee’s boyfriend is also her manager.”

  “Hey! How’d you guess?” Kaycee said.

  “He’s real smart,” Speltz said. “Would you mind excusing me and Spanish for a minute?”

  “Just don’t forget about me,” Kaycee said as she left the kitchen.

  “He won’t,” Spanish answered. “So,” Speltz said as he poured Spanish a shot of tequila. “How soon can you be ready to start on Erection Man?”

  “I’m not sure. I need to think about it.” “You need to think about it? Where’s my goto guy?”

  “I just need a little time, okay?”

  “Sure, sure. You need a break. I understand. But don’t take too long. I want to be ready when Resurrection Man comes out.”

  “How’d you find out what the sets look like?” “After you tipped me off, I called some friends who have friends. They found out that the film is shooting on the MGM lot and took a few

  pictures with long-range lenses. Our sets will look good enough for the kind of people who watch these things.”

  “Well, when you put it that way, I should do it out of sheer pride in the product.”

  “Don’t get all meshuge. I just chose my words badly.” “I think I’ve made some bad choices too.” Spanish poured two more shots and drank his. “Just give me some time, Win. I need to think real hard about a few things.”

  “Fine, fine.” Speltz held up his hands. “Just remember, without you, I got nothing. Where else I’m going to find another Jason Forrester body double?”

  “I’m going. Say hi to Fawn for me.”

  “Aw, come on, Spanish,” Speltz said as Kaycee stuck her head in the door. “Stick around. I promise not to talk shop again.”

  “Does that mean I can come back in?” Kaycee asked.

  “All three of you can come in,” Speltz said. “Come to papa.”

  Kaycee giggled. “I heard you’re famous,” she said to Spanish. “I hope I get to work with you.”

  “He’s gay,” Speltz said. “If you want to butter someone up, you should concentrate on me.”

  Kaycee managed the not inconsiderable feat of giggling and pouting at the same time.

  “You know what might be fun?” Speltz said to Spanish. “Some kind of Dogpatch thing. Kaycee here would make a great Daisy Mae.”

  “I like it,” Spanish said. “What do you think, Kaycee?”

  “I’d love it!” she squealed.

  “And you think you’re ready to do triple-X porn?”

  “Sure. It’s just fucking for the camera, right?”

  “Do you have any experience?” Spanish asked, glancing at Speltz in disbelief.

  “Well, I’ve done plays and a couple of music videos for my old boyfriend’s band.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Take it easy,” Speltz said. “No need for the Spanish Inquisition.”

  “Did you find out anything about this adorable creature before you started plying your wiles?”

  “What’s going on?” Kaycee asked.

  “What year were you born?” Spanish said.

  Kaycee’s face squinched in a kittenish expression of trapped consternation. “Phil,” she called out.

  “You don’t need your boyfriend to tell you when you were born, do you?”

  “Phil!” Kaycee’s tone took on an edge as she called for her boyfriend again.

  “Just tell us how old you are and be honest.”

  “I’m sixteen! Satisfied?”

  “Not hardly.” Spanish looked at Speltz again.

  “I didn’t know,” Speltz said. “Look, Kaycee honey, I can’t hire you until you’re eighteen, even if you do look twenty. Sorry, but I’m gonna have to ask you to leave now.”

  “Phil’s gonna be mad,” Kaycee said.

  “If he gets mad at you, you call me,” Speltz said. “If he hits you, you call the cops. And you tell them how old you are.”

  “Okay.” Kaycee went to the door. “Bye. I hope I get to work with you someday.”

  “I’m proud of you, Win,” Spanish said when Kaycee was gone.

  “I may be a scumbag, but I’m not that big a scumbag.”

  “Well put. Pour me another shot and then I’m going to mingle. I’ll say hello to Fawn myself.”

  “Wise decision. She likes you, and if she found out you were here and didn’t say hi, you’d be made aware of her displeasure. The woman’s mean as a snake, but I love her like crazy.”

  “Then why do you cheat on her?”

  “Are you kidding me? Have you seen the schmoonda that passes before me on a daily basis? How can I be expected to stay on a diet with a four-star smorgasbord in front of me?”

  “It’s called willpower. Google it.”

  “Piss off before I Google you.”

  “I’m not worried, but I will piss off. I want to make the rounds before everyone is shitfaced.”

  “Catch you later.” Speltz toasted Spanish with his shot glass.

  Spanish drifted around the party having drinks with his costars, the crew, and their significant others. He shared in the telling of amusing stories about filming and echoed the wishes that they’d work together again. Sometime around midnight, he realized it just wasn’t the same without Jason, and he went home.

  AFTERbreakfast at noon, Spanish was thinking about going shopping for a new phone, but when his current one rang, he threw
his vague plans out the window and jetted over to meet Jason for some afternoon delight. As usual, the sex evolved from the initial fierce and frantic neediness to languid fondling that led to more sex. Half an hour after arriving at one of the Chateau Marmont’s bungalows, Spanish gleamed with a layer of sweat as he sprawled in a post-orgasmic haze across the once-crisp sheets. Idly, he ran a hand down Jason’s damp back to his crack.

  “Damn, that was good.” Jason pressed his ass back against Spanish’s hand. “Thanks for meeting me. I really needed it after the news I got today.” “What’s got you so uptight?”

  “Believe it or not, there’s some guy who looks like me—my body, anyway—and he’s making porn. The X-rated stuff gets spliced into one of my movies, and then it gets sold overseas— mostly in Asia and Russia, looks like, but they’ll turn up here eventually.”

  “Sounds like he has a great job,” Spanish joked to cover the fact that his heart was plummeting.

  “I guess it does… if you’re not me.”

  “Well… what does it hurt, really?”

  “It hurts me personally. I know most people are smart enough to know it isn’t really me getting busy on camera, but there are going to be some who think it’s me. This might sound ridiculous to you, but even though it isn’t really me, the thought of people watching this double having sex and thinking it’s me just creeps me out.”

  Spanish began to feel queasy. “Like how creepy is it?”

  “When I’m at home, I feel like I’m being watched. It’s damn near impossible to take a dump without imagining a hidden camera somewhere.”

  “That sucks.” Spanish paused. “Can’t you find him and, I don’t know, make him stop?”

  “Well, it’s not just him, is it? There’s a director, an actress, a film crew. And of course all their names are fake ones. Someone has to know something, but so far the people my manager hired haven’t found anything.”

  “Amazing that someone can run an operation like that so secretly.”

  “Yeah, but even though there are probably dozens of them, it’s the guy impersonating me who really pisses me off. What a dick, huh?”

  “Or he could just be some regular guy trying to make a living.”

  “I guess.” Jason swore under his breath. “I’m really glad I have you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. You don’t want anything from me. You just want me. You’d never fuck me over. I value that, John.”

  The slight queasiness had escalated to roiling maelstroms of acid in Spanish’s stomach. He swallowed and leaned over to kiss Jason. “You’re special to me too,” he said. “I’m sorry I can’t stay. I have a dinner meeting I can’t get out of.”

  “It’s cool. I’m busy later too. Meeting Dusty at the special effects studio.” Jason paused. “Listen, you don’t talk about your job much and that’s cool, but I want you to know that if you’re working as an escort or something, that’s cool too.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “I mean, I’m not thrilled by the idea that you might be fucking other dudes, but I know I got no right to tell you what to do.”

  “I’m not an escort.”

  “No big deal. Hey, you didn’t plan anything for next weekend, right?” Jason asked as Spanish got out of bed.

  “You said save the date, so I did. What are we doing? Or is it still a surprise?” Spanish picked up his jeans and stepped into them. “I just want to know what to pack.”

  “An overnight bag with your skimpiest swimsuit.”

  “Got it,” Spanish said as he zipped up. While buttoning his shirt, he gazed at Jason, all rumpled and golden in the welter of snow-white sheets. Leaning over the bed, he stroked Jason’s tousled hair and kissed him again. “Call me,” he said as he turned to go.

  “I will,” Jason said as Spanish reached the door. “I need you, John.”

  “Me too,” Spanish managed to say as he left the bungalow. A valet fetched his car while he waited numbly. As soon as he was behind the wheel, he punched the gas pedal and tore away from the curb. “Shit!” He pounded the steering wheel as he left the grounds of the Marmont. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

  Spanish had known all along that Jason could stumble across a copy of one of the “enhanced” movies, but until now he hadn’t known how bad it would actually be. When they’d started fooling around, his attitude was that no matter what happened, at least he’d nailed Jason Forrester. He didn’t feel that way anymore. Jason wasn’t just a prestigious trick; Spanish cared about the down-toearth, slightly obtuse country boy he’d found under the superstar gloss. He didn’t want this relationship to end, even if they never took it public. The thought of life without Jason made him feel so sick that he almost had to pull over.

  “You have to tell him, dickhead,” Spanish muttered. “Before he finds out for himself. Either way, you lose him, but at least you won’t feel like such a turd.”

  Taking the next exit ramp, Spanish drove to Westwood and parked in the circular drive of Speltz’s house. “Hi, Fawn,” he said when Speltz’s wife answer the door.

  “John! Please come in. It’s always a pleasure to see you.”

  “Likewise. Sorry to be rude, but is Win here?”

  “You should have called, sweetie. Win’s in Vegas.”

  “Crap.”

  “You can say shit if you need to. You look very upset.”

  “I need to talk to Win, and I don’t want to do it on the phone.”

  Fawn tilted her head to the side. “You’ve finally decided to get out of porn,” she guessed.

  “What? No. I’m not—” Spanish paused. “I’m not quitting the biz, not just yet. I don’t have enough in my savings.” He paused again. “But I might not be working with Win anymore.”

  “Darling, why not?” Fawn gestured for Spanish to follow her to the kitchen, where she poured him a cup of tea. “Tell me what my shady husband has done now.”

  “It’s me. I just don’t feel comfortable doing the inserts anymore. I got no problem with shooting porn in general. I just don’t want to be Jason Forrester’s body double.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “That’s what I want to tell Win.”

  “You don’t have to. As of three seconds ago, Scarlet House Productions has officially stopped making inserts for Jason Forrester films.”

  “Just like that?” Spanish leaned against the counter behind him.

  “If it makes you unhappy to do them, you don’t have to. I’ll explain it to Win when he gets home. Since I control the bank accounts, I’m sure he’ll see reason.” Fawn smiled. “Now that the unpleasantness is over, how have you been? We haven’t talked in ages.”

  Spanish collected himself and told her something he thought she’d like to hear. “I’m in love.”

  “Good for you! Do I know him?”

  “Jason Forrester.”

  “Oh, darling! Does he know?”

  “About me doubling him? Of course not.” “I meant, does he know you love him?”

  “Well, it hasn’t been said, exactly, but we’ve danced pretty close to it.”

  “You know you have to tell him… about how you feel and about the inserts.”

  “I know.” Spanish sighed. “I’m going to do it this weekend.”

  “Make it fast and pray he doesn’t find out for himself first. I wish you the best of luck.”

  “I’m going to need all I can get.”

  “If he’s smart, he’ll realize what he has in you and forgive you.”

  “God, I hope so.”

  “He’d be the beneficiary of a lifetime of guilt blow jobs from you.”

  “Maybe I should mention that when I talk to him.”

  “Couldn’t hurt, darling.” Fawn reached out to touch his cheek. “I hope you don’t get your heart broken. You’re such a nice boy.”

  “Then why am I always alone? All the people I call friends are people I work with and get together with sometimes. I wouldn’t call any of them to talk about my problems�
�� unless I needed bail. Seriously, you’re the only person I can open up with—besides Jason.”

  “I know there’s only eight years between our ages, but I’ve always felt motherly about you.”

  “Yikes! I just flashed on some of our scenes from The Spanglish Patient.”

  “Don’t be gross. I just want you to know that I’ll be there for you if you need a shoulder.”

  “Thanks. Sincerely. I feel bad about you breaking the news to Win, though.”

  “It’s okay to let Mommy fight a few of your battles for you.” Fawn smiled her lioness smile. “I know you won’t make it a habit. You’re a strong man who’s been pretending to be a boy for so long that you’ve forgotten just how strong you are.” She laughed briefly. “Listen to me, handing out advice like I’m Oprah. All I am is a washed-up bimbo.”

  “No you’re not. You’re the brains behind Scarlet House Productions. Win’s a stroke-film genius, but he’d be on the streets if you didn’t run the company for him.”

  “He’s a vulgar little troll who can’t keep it in his pants, but I do love him. What’s wrong with me?”

  “Not a damned thing.” Spanish moved closer and put his arms around her.

  Fawn returned his hug and let him go. “Don’t worry about Win, okay? You concentrate on your relationship with Jason.”

  “It’s the only thing I can think about.”

  “Poor baby. All I can tell you is that it’s better to do it as soon as possible. The longer you wait, the more time you have to stew.”

  “That’s one of the most sensible things anyone’s ever said to me.” Spanish kissed her cheek. “I’ll get out of your hair now.”

  “Try not to brood and don’t be a stranger.” “Thanks for the tea.”

  Fawn and Spanish gazed at each other for a moment before abruptly breaking into laughter.

  “Sorry,” Spanish said. “I don’t know why that struck me as funny.”

  “Me either. Maybe we just needed to break the tension. See you later.”

  “Bye, Mom.” Spanish left her smiling and got into his car. He waved at the lawn guy on his way out, and his spirits were unaccountably lifted by the man’s return wave and beaming smile. If the immigrant on the garden tractor could be that happy, surely Spanish could too.

 

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