by Amy Lignor
His brows moved up and down on his forehead. "Aren't you rich?"
I shrugged. "Now. But growing up poor, you respect it a hell of a lot more. My brains came first; I like to think the money's just a bonus for all the hard work. Plus, I'm frugal as all get out. I always have those memories in the back of my mind of having nothing—so I'm not a mansion, sports car kind of person."
He nodded. "Me, too."
I turned back to Chris. "Okay, let's see…stores. We have very high-class boutiques here, and Victoria's Secret, my personal favorite. Then there are the well-known names from the City for your clothing, household, etc. They spare no expense. I mean, this certainly isn't the '400 Club' anymore, but they get their stuff."
"I really need to go to VS. I get my cologne there." Chris nodded. "You want to go shopping with me?"
I laughed. The exuberance that came out of him was beyond compelling; he was like his own little aphrodisiac. "Sure. I could use some things."
Bobby looked at Chris. "You shop at Victoria's Secret?"
"Of course. Beauty is a must. Right?" He looked at me for confirmation.
"Right."
"Can we see what you buy?"
I turned to Matt, seeing the teasing grin pasted on his face. "Perv."
He laughed.
"The Ben-Gay would stain the silk," I said. "A big, disgusting stain that smelled like menthol."
Chris chimed in, "Ben-Gay?"
Retelling the tale, Chris began to laugh. He stared at me with a look of sheer love, like a new best friend that I just had to have by my side.
"I like Ben-Gay," he said. "At least, I did until I put it on my balls just to see…burned like hell!"
As I felt the now slightly cooled mixture hit the side of my face, I could barely contain myself. Matt had, yet again, sent another shot of coffee flying from his mouth.
"I am SO sorry." His body jerked in the chair as he tried to stop his laughter.
"Not a problem." I rolled my eyes. "Next time we dine together I'll just stay upwind."
Standing up, I looked at the men laughing all around me and felt…safe, as I raced back up the stairs for shower number two. Upside? I was super clean today.
~***~
The black and pink striped bags were sitting on the chair beside us as Chris and I sat down to have a small snack after our shopping excursion.
The waitress sort of circled around the room, continuously glancing at the cute face of Chris as if trying to judge whether or not he'd be interested in seeing her outside of the elegant room.
As I caught her eye, I felt a bit bad for the girl.
"So why did you let us stay?" His melodic voice took over our little corner of the world.
"Bobby asked me to."
He squinted. "I have a feeling you've said 'no' to Bobby before."
I sighed. "I don't know. You both seemed so…nice. Besides, your friend did a very big favor for me by taking on the piece that I wrote. I thought it was the least I could do."
"Believe me I know Matt, and if he hadn't wanted to do it he would have had no trouble saying so."
"Well…I thought it was nice, considering everyone says he's all about the 'song and dance' part of life."
Chris daintily placed a forkful of the Key Lime pie in his mouth and rolled his eyes back in his head. I was almost angry, knowing that no matter what this man ate he probably never gained an ounce.
Chris smiled. "He does love it. Matt's so amazingly talented that he has blown away more than one audience—not to mention more than one member of your fair sex—with that voice and body combo."
I could imagine.
"But Matt is different," Chris continued. "He tries so hard; he even takes acting classes to become better and better. He's a lot like you in that way."
"I couldn't act if I tried," I snorted.
"I mean the work, dear." He smiled. "Bobby showed me your personal space."
I looked down at the table.
"Beautifully decorated, by the way. He says you study a great deal to learn everything there is to know about everything, except math."
I nodded. "I hate math; never saw a need for it. All that work and then they hand you a calculator when you grow up, so what's the point?"
"Agreed." He winked. "After seeing your marvelous inner sanctum, I have to say you strike me as a true Renaissance woman. Why the intense drive to learn?"
"I just want to know, and what I don't know I want to figure out."
Chris remained quiet, enjoying his lime treat and encouraging—nope, wrong word—forcing me with his bright blue eyes to continue speaking whether I liked it or not.
Sighing, I set my elbows on the table. "I love books. I love walking into rooms filled with the words of the 'best of the best' and learning what happened, who did it, how it all came to be… Everything from architecture to politics to information on the most intriguing discoveries of our entire lives are all in books."
I could feel my head begin to spin as I thought about my other precious library in New York. "You can sit in any chair and immediately enter the world where Poe placed everyone who believed they'd survived the Red Death, just to let you watch the door swing open and the Masque appear. Then, in the next minute you can enjoy the perfect sunny day with Mr. Darcy by your side, and then immediately sit in a prison cell talking to a true psycho, or find yourself in a Senate meeting…talking to a true psycho." I laughed.
Chris's smile was precious as he leaned forward. "Continue."
"I pick up another book and I'm in Petra. I can look inside those Coptic jars that archaeologists discovered at Qumran. I can walk through Cleopatra's mines and learn what she had to do with King Herod. I can go through the Library at Alexandria, or actually see where the legend of the Minotaur came from when I research the labyrinth below the Palace at Knossos. I can…."
My brain snapped back to me and I looked into Chris's wide eyes. He gazed at me as if a complete and utter loon had appeared right before his eyes.
"Sorry." I looked out the window at the mansion peeking through the trees at the top of the mountain.
Reaching out, Chris took my hand. "You are inspiring." Leaning over the table, he placed a kiss on my cheek. "You really are. The passion you have for learning, exploring, adventure, writing…it's mesmerizing."
"I rattle on."
"You should."
"So…it's your turn."
He tilted his head to the side.
"What do think of Bobby?"
Chris's cheeks immediately grew beetroot red, as he attempted to clear his throat. "He's very nice."
I remained silent, trying my best to turn the tables and force him to continue.
Chris fiddled with his fork. "I like how much you care for each other. He acts like you're his big sister. How did you two come across each other?"
I felt the anger return along with the memory. "I was headed to NYU to give a lecture about the Romanov family and their 'trouble' with Rasputin. I was outside the campus library when I saw Bobby at the side of the building. There were three guys and I didn't think anything of it, but suddenly one of them threw a punch and Bobby fell."
"What?" Chris gasped.
"I ran over and, well…you have to understand that Bobby was way smaller back then." I smiled, thinking about the six-foot, muscular man who now called himself my assistant. "He got his growth spurt late in life."
Chris smiled.
"He was only nineteen then; he's actually six years younger than I am. I went into full boil when I saw this sweet boy with tears rolling down his cheeks and blood coming from his nose…" I felt my heart speed up as I relived that manic moment. "I grabbed the hater by his nuts after he made some snide comment about wanting to bed me down. Although, his wording wasn't quite as respectful as that."
Chris glanced at my body and immediately looked back to my eyes, nodding his understanding.
"Anyway, he was just a bully who liked to pick on people. I thought all that ridiculousness had stopp
ed. I mean, all these years and morons are still yapping about sexual orientation? Give me a break!"
A shadow crossed Chris's face, and I was sure he was remembering his very own haters that he'd crossed paths with over his short lifetime.
"I twisted extremely hard, as well as used my new high-heeled boots to make my point very clear."
Chris winced.
"His other buddies booked it. I picked Bobby up off the ground, got some ice, canceled the lecture and took him out to lunch. After that I just felt…protective of him. He was studying journalism, wanted to help with my writing projects and get some background in history, so he came on as my assistant. And he's the absolute best person in the world," I added. "He even writes now, works in the areas of history. He really loves the Gilded Age." I smiled wide. "We're family now."
The blue eyes were filled with emotion. "He seems okay with being gay."
I nodded. "Oh, he is. Those boys did nothing but give him a bad day. Bobby's always known who he is and has just about the kindest heart I can imagine."
Chris's hand seemed to tremble a bit on the tablecloth. "Why me?"
I leaned forward. "Sorry?"
He grinned. "I can see the look in your eye. Why would you want your best friend set up with me?"
I sat back in my chair and studied the face before me, trying to put into words exactly how I felt. "Bobby has the biggest heart, but I have a feeling you'd come in a very close second."
The blush returned to his cheeks.
"I don't know you at all, Chris. But there's something about you—the way you were with Amber, the way you are with Matt—you have this energy around you that makes me think you celebrate life. Bobby needs that. He needs to enjoy life. But I would never want him hurt by some ego-driven ass."
Chris grinned. "I'm a star, lady. Doesn't that automatically come with ego?"
I laughed. "This is true. But I think you're a star who may still go home at night, put his head on his pillow and wish he had someone there to talk to who looked at him with eyes filled with love and not idolatry."
I saw the glaze appear in the corner of his eye, and immediately felt bad. "Oh, wait, I'm sorry. Way over the line. I don't know you. I mean…I'm sure you have tons of friends and maybe even a special boyfriend and I'm just way off base."
He put his finger to his lips and shook his head. "No. You nailed it. You're a very good people-reader. Another quality you share with Matt."
"Sorry?"
"That's how Matt and I met. I was at an audition. God, I must have only been about nineteen, or so, and it was sort of a different scene than a bully on a schoolyard."
I waited; completely humbled that Chris would let me in.
He took a deep breath. "Suffice to say there are a great deal more of the 'likes of me' then there were heterosexuals like Matt backstage that day. In fact, he might have been the only guy there who was looking at the showgirls, if you know what I mean."
I laughed at his wide-eyed expression and whispered tone. "Gotcha."
"At this audition there was a stunning boy there who walked around backstage like he'd already gotten the part. But, you should know, the gay community also has their share of absolute jerks and he became one, fast. He started hitting on me, grabbing…" His eyes came up from the table and focused on mine. "You probably have met up with millions of these jerks in your own category."
I sighed. "Yup, jerks are everywhere, and their maneuvers are not only disgusting, but exhausting to deal with."
Chris shook his shoulders and closed his eyes, as if completely disgusted with his memory. "He was so…pushy and…"
"What happened?"
Opening his eyes, his small smile reappeared. "Out of nowhere, Matt crossed the stage, took me by the hand, looked up at the guy and told him exactly where to stick it. And then when the guy turned his attentions on him, Matt made sure that the boy knew he was completely straight and really loved to act out movies like, Fight Club."
I laughed. "I assume the guy left you alone after that?"
"Oh, yes. And Matt and I ended up with the roles in the play." Chris smiled wide. "Matt became a true friend that day. Stuck his neck out for me and didn't even know who I was. I look up to him, you know. I admire the type of person he is and how he treats other people."
Stopping, Chris stared at me with complete honesty in his eyes. "Matt could very easily be one of those jerks if he wanted to. He has the looks, talent, but he was most definitely made to be a hero. It was hard when he moved out West, but we've spoken, and he wants to find me work out there whenever Broadway is a little dim. He's a great friend."
I swallowed the rest of the coffee. "Fight Club still the fav?"
"I think so." He laughed. "What about you?"
"Favorite movie?" I thought about the passions I had over the years. "I would have to say I'm still a Shawshank fan."
"Really?" Chris said. "I was expecting something a bit more girlie."
"Well…I love Dirty Dancing. Does that help?" I chuckled. "Of course, seeing as that Stephen King is one of my absolute favorite writers I also like the sick and twisted."
Chris grinned.
"I love The Overlook Hotel. Totally want to stay there."
"That's real?"
"Yup. It's called The Stanley Hotel, but I seriously want to go there and check it out."
"I loved Carrie," Chris said, raising his hands to his cheeks and offering up a small scream.
I nodded. "I have to say I'm really partial to a car that plays old, cool rock-and-roll music while it takes out the bullies who've been mean to me, too. And then is able to repair itself? Now that's the vehicle for me!"
Chris raised his finger in the air and the waitress, with what was now a full-blown crush, seemed to appear out of nowhere. He pointed at his clean plate. "Could I have another slice, please?"
She batted her eyelashes and ran to get his order.
"I feel bad for the waitresses on the East Coast since you and Matt arrived."
"Huh?"
I just laughed. "Nothing."
Chris leaned across the table. "So…are YOU looking for a hero?"
Eleven
~ His ~
"I really don't think I should be in here." I looked at Bobby, completely unsure as to how Beth would feel if she walked in and found me sitting in her most private haven poking around like a real jerk.
Bobby laughed. "Believe me, there won't be any heat on this one. Beth's not like that. This library is her thing, but it's not off-limits unless she's buried herself in a book project. And you'll be able to find way more out about her from this room than you ever could learn from me."
"Still," I said. "I feel like I'm spying." Even though I should've walked, I was totally mesmerized by the surroundings. The emerald green walls were such a contrast to the softer, muted shades throughout the rest of the house. Here, Beth had made a bold statement, that the lioness that ran this lair was extravagant and passionate under that cool shell of hers.
"Look, I gotta go into town. Need to grab some food and beer for the big games this weekend."
I sent him a humorous gaze.
He shrugged. "She told you we were boring. Tonight we'll head to the bar, but the weekend is beer, chips and screaming at the widescreen."
"My kind of weekend," I said, completely serious. I looked anxiously at the open door.
"Look, man. I'm not setting you up, okay?" Bobby looked around the room at the cabinets filled with books and pictures. "This IS her. And something tells me, unless my radar is completely off, you'd like to know a little more about her. This is the quickest way."
Walking back down the hall, Bobby headed out to the car and drove down the gravel drive.
It was too intriguing…I had to check it out. The room was so like its owner—corners, window seats, tiny angles offering shadows that could be hiding just about any treasure imaginable. The center of the room was completely open, with a staircase that ran up the far wall leading to a second floor f
illed to the polished wood ceiling with books and papers.
Walking toward the fancy record player, I smiled. Beth had the ultimate vinyl collection. Apparently technology was not her thing; she liked the way those old records sounded. Pawing through the stack, I saw that amazing cover art that depicted everything from Swayze having the time of his life as he dirty danced into people's hearts, to a pair of vibrant theatre masks that called out to fans to come home with the Crue.
Past the cabinets I wandered, taking a gander through the glass. There was a beautiful photo of Beth in the arms of an older man wearing a big, kind smile and a cowboy hat. The man looked to be about seventy and held his beer in the air, as Beth kissed him on the cheek, reminding me of a grandfather and granddaughter who were celebrating the fact that they'd been born into the same great family.
Beside it was a pic of Nicole, and I almost laughed out loud. The petite Commandant was dressed in a short red skirt and top and smiling from ear to ear. She was holding a copy of the Times high in the air and pointing to a headline—a bold headline that showed Lily Stone's advancement into the number one slot on the bestseller list. A personal message had been written on the picture in big, bold handwriting: "You owe ME $500!"
Moving forward, I stared at the myriad of books. Some were truly old, sporting antique gold lettering on the worn leather spines. Some titles were written in Latin, others Italian, and huge books of colored photos and maps were spread out across the large mahogany desk in the center of the room. The intricate carvings of Irish sprites on the legs of the desk were absolutely stunning, and alluded to the fact that her very talented grandfather had also created this piece once upon a time. Polished to a high shine, I smiled at the person it portrayed to a 'T.'
One side was neat as a pin, allowing room for the mammoth computer screen and small photos of other strangers who looked at Beth with friendship and love. One even showed Bobby in cap and gown, as Beth looked up at him with pride. The other side of the desk was, if you believed the theory, the home of a genius. Books were piled one on top of the other, papers stuck out from each of them; bookmarks were strewn everywhere and the hundreds of notepads and pens were piled high. I stared down at the lovely script, seeing everything from notes on archaeological sites to long conversations between her characters.