Jewels for Vishnu (Siren Publishing Allure ManLove)

by Roland Graeme

  “Bullshit. What makes you think that?”

  “He’s never given me a clear signal or made a move on me.”

  “Jesus, Corey, it’s pretty sad when a straight guy has to tell you how to go after another gay guy. Why are you waiting for Kaustav to make the first move? Why don’t you make a play for him?”

  “It’s a good thing you aren’t gay, Kevin, because if you were, you’d obviously be a real slut. Kaustav is a customer of mine, for starters. We’re in a business relationship. How would it look if I started coming on to a guy who’s commissioned a big project from me? It’d be like a whore trying to earn a bigger tip.”

  “To me, that doesn’t sound like a very good reason to hold back. After all, you’ve got the hots for Kaustav, don’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t throw him out of my bed.”

  “So why should you limit yourself to the bland white Italian bread when you can have the spicy curry-flavored dark meat, too?”

  “What a way to put it. That’s offensive on so many different levels that I don’t know how to begin to respond to it.”

  “Oh, pardon me, Mr. Politically Correct. Come to think of it, as long as we’re talking about sandwiches and meat, I imagine Joey is more like a thick salami.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  “And you’re hypocritical. Tell me the idea of being with Joey one night, then with Kaustav the next night, turns you off completely.”

  “Okay, it doesn’t turn me off completely, I have to admit.”

  “Better yet, imagine yourself in the middle of a Joey-Kaustav sandwich. Taking them both on at once. You’d be like the mayonnaise, getting squished in the middle.”

  Corey grimaced. “If I thought you could be serious for a moment—”

  “All right, I promise, no more cheap shots.”

  “Thanks. So, seriously, there’s another reason why I believe this fantasy of yours, about me and Kaustav becoming lovers, is likely to remain just a fantasy. Don’t forget he and I come from different cultural and religious backgrounds.”

  “Yeah, but so what?”

  “I get the impression his family, back home in India, is extremely conservative.”

  “Well, that’s their problem, not yours. It doesn’t seem to affect Kaustav much, does it? Hold him back, I mean?”

  “No. Not directly.”

  “Even India’s going to have to drag itself into the twenty-first century eventually.”

  “True. But then there’s the other thing about Kaustav that bothers me. His money.”

  “His money? Damn. I’d like to be bothered that way. In all seriousness, Corey, you’re a bit of a reverse snob.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yeah. You think there’s something inherently virtuous about having to be careful about money, keeping to a strict budget to make ends meet and trying to put a little away every now and then and so on. But there’s nothing saintly about it. It’s a necessity and just common sense. On the other hand, you really don’t have a very high opinion of most of the rich people you sell stuff to, do you? You think they’re kind of shallow. That they take being privileged for granted.”

  “They’re usually in a position to do that.”

  “But from what you’ve told me about Kaustav, he may be the exception that proves the rule. He’s no playboy, is he? If I was a gay man like him, with money to burn, I’d have a whole string of guys like Pierce Taser on speed dial. I’d have a different stud for every day of the week, and two on Sunday. I’d be insufferable.”

  “You’re already insufferable,” Corey joked.

  “Thanks. Well, I’ve said my piece. You’re a big boy, Corey. I can’t run your life for you—if I could, you’d get out more, and you’d be getting a lot more action. You’re going to have to decide for yourself what you want to do.”

  “True.”

  The two friends talked about other things. Corey was now in a better mood. As they separated, Kevin, true to form, got in a parting witticism.

  “Don’t feel so bad, Corey. If I were queer, I’d move in with you. I’d let you keep me, and I’d put out for you any time you were in the mood.”

  “Listen, buddy. If you moved in with me, you’d turn queer within twenty-four hours, and for good. I have that effect on men,” Corey boasted.

  “Think you’re pretty irresistible, don’t you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Keep working on your self-esteem. It seems kind of low.”

  Privately, though, Corey wished it was true—that he was irresistible, at least to one other man. Oddly enough, this theoretical man, toward whom he was now directing his longings, was no longer embodied in his imagination by Joey Arena but by Kaustav Thevar.

  Corey was getting ready for bed one night when his cell phone rang. He recognized the number, which was Kaustav’s.

  “Am I calling too late?” Kaustav asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “I was wondering how the most talented jewelry maker in Los Angeles was doing.”

  Corey had to laugh at this compliment. “He’s doing fine.”

  “That’s good to hear. What are you doing tomorrow evening?”

  “The same thing I’ve been doing most evenings lately. I’ll be here at home, working on Vishnu’s jewelry, unless I get a better offer.”

  “I’d like to take you out to dinner. Does that qualify as a better offer?”

  “It’s one of the few things that could tear me away from my work.”

  “I enjoyed our dinner at Vercusi’s. I wouldn’t mind going there again.”

  “I liked it, too.”

  “Shall we meet at Vercusi’s, then, at eight?”

  “Sure. Only, this time you’re going to have to let me treat you.”

  “We can discuss that tomorrow night,” Kaustav said smoothly.

  “I can’t let you pay my way all the time.”

  “I don’t see why not. You’re going to have to get used to having men admire you and want to enjoy your company and indulge you.”

  “That sounds like something I could get used to, given the chance. But you are an incurable optimist. Where have all these men been hiding all my life?”

  Kaustav chuckled. “We will have to see whether we can flush a few of them out of the bushes.”

  The moment he hung up, Corey began to worry about what to wear on this second dinner date with Kaustav.

  I won’t wear a suit this time, he decided. I’ll go for a “dressy casual” look. He began to ransack his closet and bedroom drawers in search of anything that might be considered even remotely “dressy casual.”

  The next evening, Corey found himself not only seated opposite Kaustav at Vercusi’s but at the same table they had occupied on their previous visit to the restaurant. They were served by the same waiter.

  “This is déjà vu all over again, as they say,” Corey joked.

  “Everything does seem oddly familiar, doesn’t it?”

  “One thing that’s different, though, is your outfit.” Kaustav was wearing a classic blue blazer with gold buttons, over white linen slacks and a shirt with vaguely nautical-looking blue and white horizontal stripes. “Don’t you look elegant.”

  Kaustav smiled. “Do I?”

  “Yes. As though you just stepped off a yacht.”

  “Thanks for the compliment. But that’s a funny thing for you to say, because the fact is I’m a terrible sailor. I get queasy when I see the breeze rippling the surface of the swimming pool.”

  “That’s a shame. I love being out on the water.”

  “Lucky you. By the way, you look very nice yourself.”

  “I agonized over what to wear,” Corey confessed. He’d finally chosen black slacks, a lightweight cotton sweater with a bold geometrical pattern, and a brownish-beige sports coat.

  “Why? Every time I’ve seen you, you’ve looked good. In things that seem to suit you.”

  “I’m still trying to make a favorable impression on you.”

  �
��You’re wasting your time, because you’ve impressed me ever since we first met.”

  Corey could feel himself blushing a little, and once again he hoped it wasn’t too obvious in the restaurant’s subdued lighting. “You have a way of talking to a guy that’s very flattering—that makes him feel special.”

  “Do I? Am I a ‘schmoozer?’ I heard someone use that term, and I wasn’t sure whether it’s a good or bad thing to say about a person.”

  “You’re a schmoozer, yes. In your case, it’s a good thing. It’s good when you say nice things to people because you’re sincere. It’s bad when you tell people what you think they want to hear, insincerely, because you want them to like you or you’re hoping to get something out of them.”

  “I see. Thanks for the language lesson.”

  Their very handsome waiter reappeared, to take their drink order.

  “Shall we have a bottle of wine?” Kaustav asked Corey.

  “Yes, why don’t we?”

  Kaustav glanced at the wine list. “What do you like?”

  “Anything. You choose.”

  Kaustav ordered a merlot, moderately priced by this establishment’s standards.

  “I’m glad you’re not a wine snob,” Corey remarked when the waiter had gone. “Or a food snob, for that matter.”

  “I try not to be any kind of a snob. I find that food and drink needn’t be expensive, or elaborate, to be enjoyable.”

  “Don’t let anybody here overhear you saying that,” Corey joked. “The chef might take exception and have us thrown out.”

  “Point taken. We’d better play it safe and order something reasonably elaborate.”

  They studied their menus. Everything looked elaborate.

  “This is a really nice restaurant,” Corey said.

  “I’m glad you like it. Our waiter is extremely attractive,” Kaustav remarked now that the young man in question was out of earshot.

  “Yes, isn’t he?”

  “I wonder if he’s what is called a waiter-slash-actor-slash-model?”

  “I’d be willing to bet he is. Ninety percent of the good-looking guys here in LA are.”

  “And the other ten percent?”

  “They’re porn actors and male prostitutes.”

  Kaustav laughed. “You’re terribly cynical.”

  “Sorry.”

  “And you’re just as good-looking as our waiter. But you’re neither a waiter-slash-actor-slash-model, nor a porn actor or a male prostitute.”

  “True. My ambitions are more modest. I know my limits, you see. I’m comfortable with my life the way it is.”

  “Ah, here comes the wine.”

  There was a delay in their conversation while the waiter offered the bottle to Kaustav for his approval, then uncorked it and poured out wine for both diners.

  “That’s fine,” Kaustav told the waiter after taking the ritual first sip.

  “Very good, sir. Have you gentlemen decided?”

  “I have,” Kaustav said with a directness that Corey found endearing. “I’m very hungry. I’ll have the tuna steak. What about you, Corey?”

  “Actually, that sounds good. I’ll have the same,” Corey said.

  “Wouldn’t you rather have the beef steak?”

  “Maybe I will.” The beef steak came in two sizes, both appallingly expensive by Corey’s standards.

  “Go ahead. And have the full-sized cut.”

  “All right. You’ve talked me into it. Well done, please.”

  Corey told himself that he could always take some of the steak home with him in a doggy bag and get another meal out of it. He waited until the waiter had gone before he spoke again. “Is it true that Hindus don’t eat beef?”

  “Most of us avoid beef and veal, yes. I’ve heard the expression ‘supermarket Catholics’ who pick and choose which tenets of their church they follow. I suppose there are supermarket Hindus, too, but I’m not one of them. I tend to be a traditionalist, in some things.” Kaustav smiled. “Which is no reason for you to abstain. You can at least provide me with the vicarious pleasure of watching you enjoy your steak.”

  “I’ll do my best to make the experience a memorable one for you,” Corey joked. “I intend to devour that fat, juicy steak, every morsel of it, and feel no guilt whatsoever.”

  “Good for you. Fortunately for me, I do like fish.”

  For a few moments, they concentrated on their salads and their glasses of wine.

  “Are you enjoying your wine?” Kaustav asked.

  “It’s perfect.”

  “Good. You see, Corey, I wanted this evening to be rather special.”

  “Oh? For any reason in particular?”

  “Yes. I’m afraid I won’t be able to see you again, for a couple of weeks. I’m going out of town—out of the country, in fact—on a business trip.”

  “Oh.” Corey realized that he wasn’t doing a very good job of masking his dismay. “When are you leaving?”

  “Tomorrow morning. I had to change my plans at the last moment and book an earlier flight. That’s why I called you last night.”

  “And where are you going?”

  “First to Tokyo then to Hong Kong then to Australia.”

  “Wow. That’s a lot of time to spend in the air, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. That part of such a trip can be tedious.”

  “And how long will you be gone?”

  “Two weeks.”

  “Two weeks. For some reason, that seems like an eternity. I’ll miss you.”

  “I shall miss you, too. I’m hoping we can do something together when I get back.”

  “Yes, we’re going to have to, to make up for—because I’ll miss you while you’re away, and I’ll want to hear all about your trip when you get back.”

  “We can go out for dinner again. Or do whatever you like.”

  “Frankly, I’d like to just spend a quiet evening with you, just the two of us.”

  “I’d enjoy that, too. Oh, don’t get me wrong, Corey. Sometimes I enjoy going out on the town and being around a lot of other people. But at other times, I prefer to be at home, by myself—or, better yet, with just one special friend.”

  “Am I one of your special friends?”

  “You are very dear to me.”

  Feeling slightly embarrassed by what Kaustav had just said, and the solemnity with which he had said it, Corey felt a need to lighten the mood. “Well, since this is going to be our last evening together for a while, let’s make the most of it. I can see our waiter coming this way, with our food. Get ready to dig in.”

  They ate with relish.

  “While I’m away, Corey, I want you to feel free to make use of my house.”

  “Your house? What do you mean?”

  “I would like you, quite literally, to treat it as though it were your own home. Come over and swim in the pool. Stay overnight, if you wish. I have several guest rooms, which have been going to waste lately. There’s always plenty of food on hand. Renesh will see to your needs.”

  “Oh, so Renesh isn’t going with you abroad?”

  “Not this time. Sometimes he does accompany me on business trips. But, since he will be here and in charge of the house while I’m gone, he may as well have something to keep him busy. He can attend to your needs in my absence.”

  “I’d feel strange being in your house while you’re not there.”

  “Why should you? I’d like to be able to think, while I’m away, that you’re enjoying yourself. You do like to swim, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Then come and use the pool. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t.”

  “Well, I’ll think about it.”

  “Renesh will enjoy having your company while I’m gone. And he’ll enjoy having someone to fuss over, should you decide to spend some nights. Which I hope you will.”

  “Kaustav, are you trying to push me into Renesh’s arms?”

  “I don’t think you need to be pushed. You like the boy, don’
t you?”

  “He’s very sweet.”

  “And he likes you. What is the problem?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t quite put it in words. Somehow, though, it seems kind of…unseemly…for Renesh and I to be balling our brains out under your roof without you being there.”

  “I don’t see the unseemliness. It’s not as though the two of you need a chaperone. And it would, in fact, give me a great deal of pleasure to think that you and Renesh were enjoying yourselves in my absence. Provided, of course, you don’t allow yourself to get so carried away by the pleasures of the flesh that you neglect Vishnu’s jewels.”

  Corey shook his head. “You really are the most extraordinary man, Kaustav.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  “Yes. You’re not like anybody I’ve ever met. No one else I know thinks or talks quite like you. I can’t figure you out.”

  “But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? While you are trying to figure me out, as you put it, you will at least not become bored with me.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone ever becoming bored with you, Kaustav. You’re full of surprises.”

  “And you, dear Corey, are an unending source of delight for me.”

  Corey could feel himself, all too predictably, starting to blush. “It embarrasses me when you say things like that.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because most men aren’t nearly so frank about expressing their feelings, in words. Maybe because I feel I don’t deserve it.”

  “But you do deserve it.”

  “Do it?”

  “Of course you do. Why do you doubt yourself?”

  “I like you so much,” Corey blurted out. “You’re so different from most of the other men I’ve met. I’m afraid of saying something stupid to you. You know, something silly and sentimental.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as that I might be falling in love with you.”

  “Why do you think that’s silly and sentimental? If that’s what you happen to feel, why hesitate to say it?”

  “Because we haven’t really known each other that long. There’s a sexual attraction between us, isn’t there? But it’s a little early to be talking about love. I don’t want to promise you anything I can’t follow through on. Something I may regret later.”