All About Yves

by Ryan Field

  "You wouldn't lay a hand on me,” Harris said. “And you know it. Getting involved in a scandal right now could ruin your image of being the nice, sweet, innocent Yves Marisano."

  "Then I'll call security and have you taken out,” Yves said.

  "You won't do that either,” Harris said, regaining his balance and smoothing the back of his head. He knew Yves was strong, but he wasn't worried.

  "Why not?"

  "For starters,” Harris said, “You're not Yves Marisano. You're Harvey L. Fuchs. You come from a poor background in the Midwest, just like you said, but your parents never threw you out of the house and they never sent you to one of those religious places that try to turn gay men into straight men. They actually supported the fact that you were gay, and never tried to stop you from being who you are. They haven't heard from you in almost two years. They miss you and wonder about what you're doing all the time. You did have a sexual relationship with a man after high school. But he wasn't the captain of the football team, as you've claimed. The man you slept with was the forty year old high school football coach, with a wife and three children. And somehow you managed to get videos of the two of you having sex together. You were on top and he was on the bottom, as usual. When you threatened to expose him to the community with the video, he paid you five thousand dollars to leave town."

  "No one knows about that video,” Yves said.

  "I have my ways,” Harris said. “And I have a copy of the video."

  "Get out of here,” Yves said. “You're nothing but a vicious old troll who preys on innocent young men.” Then he walked to the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

  Harris followed him into the bedroom. Yves was lying across the bed, with his face buried in the pillows. “That five thousand dollars got you far, I must say. You managed to turn your back on your family, almost ruin the football coach's life, and lie about being an abused gay man who had been sent away to be reformed. With that one vicious lie about being sent away, you managed to mock young gay men all over the world who have suffered through all kinds of pain and anguish you'll never know, you selfish little prick. And what you did to Marco was even worse. He brought you into his home and life and trusted you. Then you tried to take Frazier away."

  "I didn't try to take Frazier away,” Yves said. “You're babbling now. You're senile."

  "I was there, you filthy liar,” Harris said. “I heard you from out in the hall. You almost feel on your knees trying to seduce him."

  Yves turned his head. The rage in his eyes had softened. “I had to lie about my past,” he said. “I had to get into Marco's dressing room and I had to say something. I had to make them all feel sorry for me."

  "Then you used my good name and my column to blackmail Molly into getting you this job with Frazier's home shopping project,” Harris said.

  "Molly's a liar,” Yves said, pounding the mattress with his fist. “She's just jealous because Jasper's in love with me."

  "You're delusional. I had lunch with Molly yesterday,” Harris said. “She thought she was trying to get information from me and as usual I wound up getting more from her. Would you like to change your story about how Jasper showed up at your apartment the other night?” Harris already knew Jasper had received a phone call and Yves's neighbor had begged Jasper to come over that night.

  "Enough,” Yves said in a low voice. “I've had enough. I don't want to listen to any more, please."

  Harris stood over the bed and watched him beg. He stared at him with contempt and said, “I'm not even sure why I want to be bothered with you. Big dick comes and goes. But I think it's because we're so much alike. We have no respect for other human beings. We're ambitious, we crave attention, and we know how to get exactly what we want. We deserve each other, you and I. Are you listening to me?"

  Yves face was still buried in the mattress. He nodded yes.

  "Then answer me,” Harris said, raising his voice. This was clearly a direct order and Harris was demanding respect.

  "Yes,” Yves said. “I'm listening."

  "Do you see why I own you?” Harris asked.

  "Yes, Harris.” His body was limp.

  "Take your nap and I'll see you later tonight during the next segment,” Harris said, turning to leave the room. “I'm sure you'll be every bit as wonderful as you were this afternoon."

  When Harris reached the bedroom door, Yves lifted his head from the bed and said, “I can't do the segment tonight. I can't smile and pretend everything is okay. I just can't do it anymore."

  Harris lowered his chin and laughed. “You must be joking,” he said. “You'll do the segment, you'll march your cute little ass around for the camera, and you'll sell even more clothes tonight than you sold this afternoon.” Then he turned his back and left Yves lying on the bed.

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  Chapter Nineteen

  When Yves Marisano walked up to the head table to receive the Rendell Vista Award, he smiled with his head bowed. Marco, clenching his fists in his lap under the table, watched him move and glide in a tuxedo worth thousands of dollars. In less than a year's time, Yves had managed to receive the most coveted award in the industry, an award it had taken Marco years to receive. And without Marco, Yves would still be standing outside in the rain, waiting in a dark alley to get a glimpse of the life he'd craved for so long.

  But then, Marco Denny had never played the dirty politics Yves had played. And these awards, like most awards in any other industry, were about politics. Marco had earned his award through hard work and dedication, not because of the people he'd slept with or the asses he'd kissed.

  Molly was sitting next to Marco at their table. When Yves received the award and started to speak, she leaned into Marco's side and said, “I still can't believe I brought him back to your dressing room that night. How stupid could I have been?"

  Marco smiled. “Don't be silly,” he said in soft voice. “If you hadn't brought him back, my life wouldn't have changed and I wouldn't be doing all the wonderful things I've been doing these past few months. You did me a favor.” He reached for his best friend's hand and squeezed it hard. “In a way, Yves helped open my eyes so I could see what really mattered to me.” Then he looked at Frazier and smiled.

  After the night Yves had called Molly's apartment and asked Jasper to come over, Molly had confided in Marco. She'd called Marco the next morning and she'd told him the little trick she'd played on him. Poor Molly—she'd cried in Marco's arms later that day, apologizing for removing the gas from the car the weekend they'd spent in Vermont. She'd begged him for forgiveness when she'd told him how she'd deliberately made him miss the live taping of the reality show so Yves would have to take over in his place for just that one night. She'd said it was just a practical joke, to teach Marco a lesson about being humble to a nice young people like Yves.

  Marco had held her in his arms while she'd sobbed. If she'd told him a few months earlier about what she'd done, he probably would have been furious with her. But he'd already begun planning for the future, and that future did not include working as a model on home shopping television. Marco had no intentions of ever doing a reality show on television again either. He wanted to continue modeling occasionally, but he wasn't going to let his career as a famous model define him any longer. Though Marco was getting older and his career was winding down, his life was better than it had ever been. He was happier than he'd ever been, and that was because he was lucky. He had a partner with whom he was madly in love, and his partner felt the same way about him.

  He'd been productive, too. Marco had finished his book on household hints and he was planning to create a new division of Frazier North designs on his own. And it had nothing to do with modeling or fashion. Marco would focus on an entire lifestyle, from interior design to landscape design, and the household hints book would be the platform on which he'd build the entire concept.

  When he first told Frazier about all this, Frazier wanted him to make a deal with the home shopping
people so he could sell the book on television. Frazier said there was already a book like it on the competitive shopping channel and he thought Marco's book would be excellent competition. But Marco smiled and thanked Frazier, then declined. Marco had seen an awful household hints book on the competitive channel and he didn't want to be even remotely associated with that sort of thing. The other household hints book was nothing more than a contrived collection of trashy solutions, and the person who had written the book reminded Marco of a fast-talking, shifty snake oil salesman selling goods and wares that were all questionable.

  Marco's book wasn't about clipping two old socks together with a clothespin so the socks wouldn't get lost in the clothes dryer or teaching people how to reuse stale bread for sandwiches by soaking the hard loaves in wet towels. If Marco wouldn't eat stale bread, how the hell could he expect his readers to eat it? The household hints in Marco's book were more along the lines of how to repair fine porcelain and how to wash Dupioni silk in the washing machine to avoid expensive dry cleaning bills. In almost every single way, his book was about saving people money, but also improving the quality and style of their lives. Many of his tips were environmentally safe, too. He'd devoted half of one chapter to the importance of using inexpensive cloth napkins instead of paper. If everyone in the world just made one small change, the environment had hope. Marco could see the entire concept in his mind's eye, and this time he was going to trust his own instincts and he wasn't going to listen to anyone else's stupid opinions.

  When Yves began to speak about how he didn't deserve the award and how he wasn't ready to receive it, Marco started and poked Molly in the arm with his elbow. “If you ask me,” he whispered to Molly, “he not only deserves this award, he deserves an Oscar, too. If nothing else, the little slut sure did work for it. On his knees."

  Molly lowered her gaze and sighed. “I've been to many of these awards, and I've never heard quite a performance like this,” she said. “He has them all eating out of his hand, believing every single word. I don't think I'll ever be able to listen to an award speech without wondering how sincere the recipient is."

  Marco laughed. “That's because most of them are liars,” He said. “But not all."

  Marco lifted his chin and looked around the room. The audience was filled with important people from the fashion industry and the modeling industry. They applauded Yves's most humble comments, then applauded again when he thanked the people who had helped him get his start. Harris Wolfe was sitting at the head table, with his head tilted up and his arms folded across his chest. When Yves thanked Molly, calling her his best friend, Harris looked at Molly and rolled his eyes. Marco just watched and listened, not knowing whether to laugh or throw the centerpiece at Yves's head. The only one Yves didn't thank publicly that night was Harris Wolfe, which was surprising because Marco figured Harris had been chiefly responsible for lobbying to get Yves this award.

  As the speech came to an end, Yves thanked one last person. “I'd like to give a special thanks to the man who made all this possible for me. Without him, I would not be here tonight. Marco Denny.” Then he smiled at Marco and stretched out his right hand. “Thank you, Marco,” Yves said. “You've been my mentor, my biggest supporter, and my best friend."

  While the audience applauded, Marco closed his eyes and gulped.

  There was an odd custom with this particular award. The person who had won the award the previous year was expected to give the final speech at the end of the award dinner. Though Marco just wanted to go home and read a good book, he knew he had to get up and say something. So he stood from the table, gave Frazier a quick look, and crossed up to the platform where Yves was still standing. In all the years he'd been coming to this award ceremony, he'd never felt so awkward. Part of him wanted to rip the award from Yves's hand and crack it over Yves's head, and part of him wanted to shrug his shoulders and laugh out loud.

  When Marco reached the platform, he shook Yves's hand and Yves went back to his own seat. Then Marco adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. “How can I add anything to such an eloquent speech by such a talented young professional like Yves Marisano?” he said. He almost choked on his own words, but the audience gave a huge round of applause. “Ah yes,” he said, “Yves Marisano is certainly one of a kind. Winning this prestigious award was one of the highlights of my life and my career, as I'm sure it will be for Yves.” Then he turned to face Yves. He stared him up and down. “And I wish him everything he's wished for me, and more."

  The audience stood to applaud. They seemed to be applauding Marco and Yves at the same time.

  "This award is important because it recognizes hard work and dedication,” Marco said, “but I've also learned there are other things just as important as awards and money, fame, and work. Those of you who know me well know I've been in love with the same wonderful man for a long time. He's the most perfect man in the world, and he's always been there for me when I needed him the most. This weekend I'm marrying my longtime partner, Frazier North, in a small ceremony in East Hampton. Though it's not legal in this country, we will be just as much a married couple when the ceremony is over as we've been for the last fifteen years."

  The audience gave a huge round of applause, and this time they were applauding for Marco and Frazier, not Yves.

  "And with that,” Marco said, “I'd like to thank everyone for presenting me with last year's award. Winning the award was unforgettable, as were so many other things in my life this past year.” He looked in Yves's direction and raised an eyebrow. Yves blinked, then smiled. Marco bowed quickly to the audience and walked back to his table.

  After Marco's little speech, everyone stood up to leave. The award dinner was over and some of the guests were going back to Edgar Dupree's home for another party. Marco walked back to his own table. Molly, Jasper, and Frazier were standing by then, waiting for him to join them.

  Frazier put his arms around Marco and said, “That was a wonderful speech. I can't wait until we actually exchange our vows this weekend, because I'm more in love with you now than I've ever been. I'm looking forward to the future.” Then he kissed him on the lips and gave him a tight hug in front of everyone.

  Marco sighed and said, “The only thing in the future I care about is spending the rest of my life with you."

  "Are we all going back to Edgar's?” Molly asked, tapping Marco's back with her handbag. “Or are you two just going to get a room here for the night?"

  Marco stepped back and adjusted his jacket. “We're going,” he said. Then he looked at Frazer and said, “We'll just pick up where we left off later tonight."

  "We will?” Frazier asked, grabbing Marco's ass.

  "In the bathtub,” Marco said.

  "You two lovebirds just sound creepy sometimes,” Molly said. “And I'm so jealous I could kick you.” But she was smiling, and everyone knew she wasn't serious about kicking him.

  Jasper put his hand on Molly's ass and squeezed it hard. Molly's eyes bugged and she jumped forward. “Hey,” Molly said. “What's that all about?"

  Jasper smiled and put his arms around her shoulders. He kissed her on the forehead. “Stop worrying about them, because I have plans for you later tonight, too."

  It was a rare show of affection for Jasper. He rarely even touched Molly in public, let alone grabbed her by the ass. Marco thought it was so unusual, he reached for Molly's arm and said, “Are you sure you don't want to get a room here for the night? Why spoil a moment, is what I always say."

  Molly smacked his arm. “Be good,” she said, smiling so wide her eyes squinted. “We'll pick up where we left off later tonight, right, Jasper?"

  Jasper squeezed her ass again. “Damn right we will."

  On the way out of the banquet room, the four friends were forced to pass by Yves and Harris. They were standing in the doorway of the banquet room and there was no way to avoid them. From the way it looked to Marco, Yves and Harris had come to the event as a couple. But he wasn't sure. The only thing Marco was s
ure about was Yves had slept with Harris, and it wasn't because Molly had told him. Knowing Harris Wolfe, Marco knew there was no way Harris would have done half the things he'd done for Yves if Yves hadn't slept with him. Molly and Jasper nodded at them. Frazier just ignored them and walked right out into the lobby as if they were both invisible.

  But Marco stopped in the doorway and reached for Yves's arm. He squeezed Yves's bicep and said, “If you need any help finding a place to put your award statue, Yves, just give me a call. I'm sure I can find the perfect place to shove it.” Then he smiled and turned in the other direction.

  Marco was about to follow the others into the lobby. His last comment would have been the perfect exit line. But a tall young man in baggy jeans and a knitted cap crossed to where they were standing, and Marco stopped to listen. The young man was scruffy-looking on the surface, but had handsome chiseled features and bright blue eyes. He pulled a piece of paper and a pen out of an oversized denim jacket and gestured to Yves.

  "Oh, Mr. Marisano,” he said, with a soft gentle voice. “I'm such a huge fan of yours. I've watched every single segment you've done on the home shopping channel and I have every single magazine you've ever been in. I even started a fan club for you on Facebook. I know I'm out of line, but I was wondering if you could please, please give me an autograph. My only goal in life is to become a famous model just like you."

  When Marco heard this, he was glad he'd stopped to listen. He smiled and squared his shoulders, then tapped Yves on the arm and said, “I'm sure you can teach this nice young man everything you know, Yves. And I'll bet he can teach you a few things, too."

  Frazier was standing at the exit door with the others. He called Marco's name and said, “Are you coming, baby?"

  "Are you and Harris going to Edgar's party?” Marco asked, waving to Frazier, signaling he'd be right there.

  At the same time, Harris said yes and Yves said no.

  Harris frowned and tilted his head. “But the party is for you, Yves.” He seemed to be working hard to keep his voice friendly.