Jewels for Vishnu (Siren Publishing Allure ManLove)

by Roland Graeme

  He also had a new ambition. Some day, he promised himself, he was going to have to be successful enough to afford to hire his own houseboy. And it would definitely have to be a hot, well-mannered, accommodating young Tamil stud, just like Renesh.

  Chapter Six:

  A Dinner Engagement

  After another week of intensive research and work, Corey was ready for the next stage of the project—obtaining his client’s approval of the designs. Satisfied with the last drawing he’d completed, Corey set it down then found his phone and punched in Kaustav’s number.

  The unmistakable voice of Renesh answered.

  “This is Mr. Thevar’s residence.” The boy sounded as formal as a butler in some old black-and-white movie.

  “Hi, Renesh. It’s me. Corey Oliver.”

  “Oh! Corey! How good to hear your voice again.”

  “And yours, too.”

  “It’s been a while since I have seen you.” There was now the slightest hint of seductiveness in Renesh’s voice.

  “Yes. I’m been busy, though. Working on my project for your boss. Have you missed me?” Corey asked just as suggestively.

  “Yes. Very much.”

  “Well, we’re going to have to do something about that sometime soon. Your boss does let you have the occasional day off, doesn’t he?”

  “Of course. And I should have some free time coming up soon.”

  “Call me when you do and we’ll get together.”

  “I will.”

  “In the meantime, speaking of your boss, is he there?”

  “Yes. One moment. He’s told me to put you through at once, whenever you call.”

  That was flattering, Corey had to admit.

  Kaustav’s voice suddenly was on the line. “Corey! What a coincidence. I was about to call you.”

  “For a progress report?”

  “For that and for other things.”

  “I’ve finished some designs for the jewelry, including alternatives. I can’t wait to show them to you and see whether you like them.”

  “I’m sure I will. I’m eager to see them. Let me get out my engagement book. What are you doing tomorrow evening?”

  “Working, I’m afraid. It’s one of the nights the shop is open late. Until nine.”

  “So you will be on duty? Selling jewelry to the needy, jewelry-deprived residents of Beverly Hills?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what do you usually do afterward?”

  “I go home, make myself something to eat, and try to unwind. Which means I’d be free then. Would you like me to come to your place, if it’s not going to be too late for you?”

  “I have an alternative suggestion. I have a business meeting downtown in the early evening. After that, I’m sure I’ll be feeling a need to unwind, too. Do you know Vercusi’s?”

  “Sure.” Vercusi’s was a very upscale restaurant, not far from Rodeo Drive and Rosenthal’s.

  “Shall we meet there tomorrow evening, then, at nine thirty?”

  “That would be fine.”

  “They know me there. There won’t be any trouble getting a reservation, even at such short notice. I’ll make sure they give us a good table. Bring your designs along. We can look at them before, during, or after dinner. But I don’t want to spend the whole evening talking business. I’d enjoy simply spending some time with you.”

  “I’d enjoy that, too.”

  “It’s a date, then.”

  “Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow evening, then. Say so long to Renesh for me, will you?”

  “Of course.”

  Corey felt a flush of pleasure go through him after he and Kaustav exchanged good-byes and hung up. He was going to see Kaustav again. And it wasn’t going to be just a business appointment. It was going to be a date, of sorts. A dinner date, which in the fullness of time might or might not lead to other things.

  It wasn’t long before Corey started worrying about what to wear. Vercusi’s, he knew, was a ritzy place. He wondered whether Kaustav would show up in a suit and tie or in more casual attire. Corey smiled at the thought that Kaustav probably would not come to the restaurant in his beat-up old sandals and tinkling anklets.

  He took care to wear one of his best suits to work the next day, accessorizing it accordingly, with a tie and silk pocket square that matched and a pair of his most elegant cufflinks. After helping Mr. Rosenthal to close up, Corey went into the men’s room to freshen up. Then, in the main area of the shop, he checked his appearance and primped a bit in front of one of the many mirrors. Fernando, who was waiting to let him out, noticed his preoccupation.

  “Hot date tonight?” the security guard asked.

  “Well, it’s a dinner date. Whether it’s going to be hot or not is still up in the air at the moment.”

  “Oh, somehow I think you’ll make out all right. Anyway, good luck.”

  “Thanks, Fernando. See you tomorrow.”

  Vercusi’s had valet parking. Corey handed the keys to the Triumph over to the valet, went inside the restaurant, and gave the maitre d’ Kaustav’s name.

  “Ah yes, sir. Mr. Thevar is waiting for you at the bar. Your table is ready for you, whenever you gentlemen want it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Kaustav was standing at the bar, nursing a drink. He was wearing a made-to-measure suit, in a soft bluish-gray. With the exception of a brightly patterned tie, his accessories were subtle. He evidently knew how to make himself blend into the corporate world. But with his glossy black hair and light brown skin, he looked stunningly handsome, and Corey was lost in admiration for a moment before Kaustav happened to glance up and see Corey coming toward him. Then his black eyes lit up and his full lips curved in a warm, unguarded smile.

  “Corey. You’re very prompt. It’s just nine thirty now.”

  “I didn’t have far to come, and I have a feeling you appreciate promptness. I imagine Renesh has rather spoiled you in that respect?”

  Kaustav laughed. “Yes, in that respect—and in others,” he said smoothly. “What will you have to drink?”

  “Oh, since this is a special occasion, something exotic, I think. I know. I’ll have a Miso Mule.”

  “What on earth is that?”

  “Sort of a takeoff on a traditional highball. It’s Japanese whiskey with spicy radish, miso paste, and honey, all topped off with Italian lemon soda. Cocktails like that, with unusual combinations of ingredients, are the latest fashion. At least in places like this, to which I don’t get invited very often.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not very fashionable. Obviously, I need to get out more. Tonight can be a start. I must try this concoction. Make it two Miso Mules, bartender. Shall we take our drinks to our table?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m hungry, and I hope you are, too.”

  “I am. I suppose selling jewelry isn’t very labor-intensive, but it’s surprising just how hungry I can feel at the end of the day.”

  They were soon seated opposite one another at their table, studying their menus. Kaustav took a cautious first sip of his drink.

  “Why, this is good,” he exclaimed.

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I am surprised. Pleasantly so. I was prepared to grit my teeth, smile, and force it down, so as not to insult your taste in beverages.”

  “You don’t have to be so paranoid about possibly hurting my feelings, Kaustav. My ego isn’t that easily bruised. Tell me, how did your business meeting go?” Corey asked.

  “Rather well, in its predictably boring way. I had to stifle a few guilty yawns toward the end. Now I’m sleepy and hungry. So I’m relying on you to be a brilliant conversationalist and help me bounce back.”

  “Oh, dear. I’m afraid you may be disappointed.”

  “I doubt it. I’m really just apologizing in advance, in case I get too busy stuffing myself to keep up my end of the conversation.”

  Corey smiled. “Relax, Kaustav. Unwind. I’m easy to entertain. It’s nice, just the two of us sitt
ing here.”

  They ordered, and a few minutes later, they were both attacking their salads with undisguised hunger.

  “I feel more human already,” Kaustav mumbled around a mouthful of greens.

  “Good.”

  “Now, what shall we talk about?”

  “You decide.”

  “Let’s talk about you. Tell me some more about yourself.”

  For some reason, Corey felt shy and not particularly forthcoming. He couldn’t imagine why. It wasn’t as though Kaustav was at all intimidating. So he deftly sidestepped the question by telling his dinner companion about his recent visit to the Rashi family’s shop.

  “Oh yes, the Rashis. A charming family. Not that I know them all that well. But they have an excellent reputation in this town.”

  “Mrs. Rashi had only good things to say about you.”

  “Did she?” Kaustav smiled. “That was kind of her. Although, at the risk of being slightly cynical, I wonder if her high opinion of me has anything to do with the fact that she has three unmarried daughters still living at home with her, and I, if you’ll permit me to be immodest for a moment, am what is often called an eligible bachelor.”

  Corey laughed. “Exceptionally eligible, I should think.”

  “It’s difficult for traditional Hindu families who live here in the States to find suitable husbands and wives for their sons and daughters. The pool of candidates can be small. That’s why arranged marriages, which are still common in my country, are also common here. The spouse is recruited and brought over here to live—or the son or daughter goes back to India to set up housekeeping there.”

  “I’m afraid that the whole concept of arranged marriages is unheard of, where I come from. Unless we’re talking about what we call a shotgun marriage,” Corey joked. “Back home in South Carolina, even if a marriage—or another, less formal kind of arrangement—is based primarily on social or economic concerns, the couple at least would like to think they’re in love.”

  “It’s possible for a man and woman to have little or no contact with each other before their marriage and still make a success of it. It’s possible even for affection and, yes, love to develop as the marriage continues.”

  “That can happen in other kinds of relationships, as well. For example, when a relationship starts out as purely sexual, but then, gradually, the two men—they’re usually men, in the kind of situation I’m thinking of—get to know and like each other as individuals. And it develops into more than just sex.”

  Kaustav had a droll, but also slightly pensive, look on his face. “I’m sure that’s possible.”

  “But not probable? Is that what you’re thinking?”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong, Corey. It may sound strange to say so, but I have a high respect for recreational sex. It has its place in life. And one can feel extraordinarily close to a so-called ‘casual’ sex partner. But a real friendship between two men—or among several men—whether it incorporates physical intimacy or not, is something quite different. Not necessarily superior, because I don’t make such value judgments. But different. And, I will venture to suggest, harder to find.”

  “Yes, I’d say we do agree on that.”

  Their entrees arrived, and they busied themselves with them for a few minutes, in silence.

  “Oh, this is good,” Corey declared. He had ordered the pasta special, ravioli stuffed with shiitake mushrooms and garnished with an herbal-flavored tomato sauce. Kaustav, for his part, was attacking a broiled trout.

  “So is mine. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

  “This is a nice restaurant. Lots of celebrities come here. If we’re lucky, we may catch sight of one or two before we’re done eating.”

  “But for some reason I get the impression, Corey, that you’re not the kind of person who’s all that impressed by celebrity.”

  “You’re probably right. After all, they’re people, just like us. The only difference is that they’re famous, and they usually have more money.”

  “I also get the impression that you’re not necessarily impressed by the mere possession of money.”

  “I respect people who’ve worked for what they have. I don’t begrudge them the enjoyment of it.”

  Kaustav seemed to hesitate for a moment. “May I ask you a personal question?”

  “Of course you can.”

  “Are you involved with anyone at the moment?”

  “I’ve here having dinner with you. But, seriously, I am seeing this one guy. Dating him, I guess. It depends on what label you choose to put on it. We’ve been having the kind of recreational sex you were talking about before,” Corey specified, feeling oddly flustered. “He’s a little younger than me.”

  “Interesting. You sound apologetic when you say that he’s younger than you are. What’s wrong with that?”

  “He’s about the same age as Renesh. So maybe you can relate. Joey—that’s my friend’s name—well, he’s at the same stage I was in when I was his age and I first moved out here. To seek my fortune, as the expression goes. In other words, Joey still has a lot of choices and options open to him, while I already feel more settled in my ways. So I can’t get over this nagging feeling that the difference in our situations, not necessarily in our ages, could get in the way of a long-term relationship.”

  “Or that could be looked as a challenge. An obstacle to be overcome.”

  “Well, that’d be one way to put a positive spin on the situation.”

  “I’m no starry-eyed optimist, Corey. I think I’m a realist. But I prefer optimism to pessimism. I like to believe that things will come out all right, in the end.”

  “I like that kind of an attitude. I’m not crazy about people who are all gloom and doom.”

  They had cleaned their plates. Their waiter approached.

  “You must have dessert,” Kaustav told Corey.

  “I’ll get fat.”

  “Unlikely, from the looks of you. Anyway, we have to order dessert, and coffee, so we can look at the designs you said you have ready for me and which I assume you have there in that portfolio.”

  “Kaustav, you are what’s known as an enabler. All right, if you insist, I’m going to have the cheesecake.”

  “And I’ll have the apple tart. You see? Perfectly simple. All you have to do is place yourself in my hands.”

  While they waited for the desserts to arrive, they sipped their coffee and Corey opened his portfolio and handed Kaustav his sketches. “This is what I’ve come up with, so far.”

  Kaustav leafed through the drawings one by one, even holding them up to catch more light.

  “Did you draw these yourself?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  “They’re very good. As drawings, I mean, quite apart from the fact that I also like the designs.”

  “Thanks. I once had illusions of becoming an artist—drawing and painting, you know. I was okay at it, but I wasn’t really good. And in a way, I find it more satisfying to work in three dimensions. Maybe that’s my consolation prize.”

  Kaustav was still studying the drawings. “I particularly like this group.”

  “I was actually hoping you would. I based it on a piece of antique jewelry I bought from Mrs. Rashi. That’s where I got the idea for the basic lotus-blossom motif. But, as you see, I’ve incorporated into it the shape of the solar disc Vishnu holds in one of his hands.”

  “Ingenious. They’re the most intricate of the designs.”

  “Which means they’d be the most time-consuming to make,” Corey said with a rueful laugh.

  “I don’t mind paying you for the extra hours of labor, if the result is good.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of that. I was thinking of all the squinting through a magnifying glass that such close work will require. But that’s part of the job, so I’ve learned to live with it.”

  “Well, if you’re up to the challenge, then I would definitely like to go with this design.”

  “I have a confession to make. I wa
s secretly hoping you would. Because I do like that one the best.”

  “That’s decided, then. Will you need any more money up front, for materials?”

  “No, I’ve barely spent any of the advance you gave me. I think I can bring this project in without going over the budget we agreed upon.”

  Kaustav waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I don’t want to scrimp or cut corners. Let me know what you need, and I will write you a check for the amount.”

  “I will.”

  “What’s your next step going to be?”

  “Making the maquettes, which are sort of mock-ups, in three dimensions, to give us some idea of what the finished pieces will look like.”

  “Will you need the statue?”

  “Not at this point. I can work from the notes I’ve made. I have all of the dimensions pretty well laid out. What I will need are the gemstones you want to incorporate in the pieces. I need to measure all of them, individually, since there are minute discrepancies from one to another of them. Then I’ll lay them out and play around with them a bit to see how best to form them into the various patterns. I’m going to substitute rhinestones in the same approximate sizes, shapes, and colors for them when I make the maquettes.”

  “That sounds rather labor-intensive.”

  “It will be, but it’ll be worth it in the end, I hope, because the maquettes will be as realistic as possible. We’ll be able to put them on the statue and get a good idea of what the finished jewelry will look like on it. Once you approve that, I’ll start work on the actual pieces.”

  “I can have Renesh deliver the jewels to you. Perhaps tomorrow evening?”

  “That would be fine.”

  “I’ll have him call you to set up a mutually agreeable time.”

  “I have a safe in my apartment, where I keep my supplies of precious metals and my really good pieces that I have on hand for sale. The jewels will be quite secure in there.”

  Kaustav made a dismissive gesture. “I’m not worried about it. I trust you to know your business. And now perhaps we can stop talking business and find something more enjoyable to discuss.”