Razzle Dazzle

by Morticia Knight

  He was instantly hard.

  All Roman wanted to do was grab Jack and crush his mouth against his, but he had agreed to go along with the whole courting thing, so he uncrossed his legs to give his dick a little more room and took a deep breath. Hopefully, he’d have control of himself before they arrived at their mystery destination.

  “Would you like to give Juan an idea of where we’re going this evening?”

  “Sure.”

  Jack leaned over the seat and cupped his hand over Juan’s ear. Juan recoiled a bit, but Jack grabbed the shoulder of his uniform and held him fast. Roman could hear Jack whispering, and could see from Juan’s reflection in the rear-view mirror that he was perplexed by everything that was going on. It actually amused Roman quite a bit. There was such an unassuming aura to Jack that it took everyone by surprise. Especially Hollywood people.

  He sat back, and Juan said to Roman, “Sir?” in a puzzled voice.

  “It’s fine. Carry on.”

  Roman angled himself towards Jack, but remained in his corner so that they wouldn’t touch. He marvelled at how different things were with Jack in his car this time. Especially at the end of their first day together when Roman thought that he might have frightened him away for good.

  “I see you’re wearing the shoes I gifted you. They look splendid. Are they to your liking?”

  “Very much, thank you,” Jack said in a shy voice.

  “So, my dear Jack, back to this evening’s destination. Can you give me any hints? Please tell me that there are no beaches or parks involved.”

  “No beaches, no parks and no hints.”

  “What a tease you are.”

  Jack smiled happily. “Oh, I can be worse.”

  Roman let his breath out, not even realising that he was the one who was tensed up this time. Their easy banter on the set remained even when they were alone. Hopefully it was a good omen that the moments they spent getting to know one other would be very short.

  Juan turned onto Wilshire Boulevard, and Roman had a thought about where they might be headed. He’d only been to the Cocoanut Grove a few times, and it was a little crowded and noisy for his taste. He was surprised Jack would pick it, unless he had no clue what it was like. Jack seemed to be okay in smaller places—like the speakeasy they had been to—but larger crowds and confined spaces appeared to bother him. And Roman wasn’t sure Jack’s plan of them talking and learning about one another would work so well in such a public place. Especially with their peers potentially stopping by every few minutes to give their regards. If that was indeed where they were headed, Roman had an idea on what to do to make it less of a problem.

  Roman considered Jack again. He looked out of the window, taking in the sights like an excited child. Everything was a wonder to the young man, despite whatever it was that he’d been through already in his short life. Roman’s heart filled with his love for him. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have Jack in his car, wanting to spend time with him.

  Apparently, I’ve finally gone mad. “Are you looking forward to this evening?”

  Jack looked at Roman eagerly. “I sure am. I just wish Marvin hadn’t kept us so long.”

  “Yes, well, he does that when he’s anxious to wrap up a picture.”

  Jack’s face fell a little. “Wrap it up? But we’ve only been shooting a little over a week.”

  “That’s how Marvin works—he’s not a great artist like Griffith or Stroheim. And the studios don’t want him to be. They want him to crank the pictures out as quickly as he can.”

  “Stroheim kinda scares me. Is he really a great artist?”

  “So they say. I don’t care for his films. Maybe I only appreciate art that’s not been imprisoned on a piece of celluloid.”

  “But what about your films? I think they’re amazing. At least you are,” he said shyly.

  Roman wanted to hold Jack’s hand, be close to him even a little. But he didn’t dare. Not yet. “You are much too kind, my dear Jack. My films are drivel for the masses. But as said drivel has financed my lifestyle, I am grateful.”

  “I don’t agree. Maybe they aren’t art the way your beautiful statues and paintings are, but your films give people a chance to escape to another world for a while. They make them feel good or scared or excited. And you make them happy by being so many different interestin’ characters. Plus you’re really nice to look at.”

  Every time Jack gave Roman a direct compliment, he noticed that Jack’s voice got a little softer. It was very sweet.

  “Then I stand corrected. I see your point. I am an impossible cynic, so I ask your forgiveness. I believe you shall have a very healthy influence on me.”

  “I wasn’t trying to correct you. I could never do that.”

  “And why is that? In addition to being nice to look at, do you also believe me to be perfect?”

  “Kinda.”

  Roman howled with laughter. If anyone was perfect, it was Jack. Certainly not Roman.

  “What’s so funny?” Jack had that hurt tone in his voice.

  “I promise I am not laughing at you. I am merely laughing at myself, and the thought that I could be considered anywhere near perfect. But you are very flattering, and I thank you.”

  Jack smiled, apparently appeased.

  Since it was Wednesday night, it was possible that they might get lucky and it wouldn’t be too overcrowded. They pulled into the large circular driveway of the Ambassador Hotel that housed the Cocoanut Grove, and were directed to the valet. Juan opened the door for them both this time, even though Roman had to block Jack from leaping out of the car to accomplish it.

  As he stepped out, Roman turned to Jack.

  “Excellent choice. I was completely surprised.”

  The look of joy on Jack’s face was worth any white lie Roman uttered. And the small amount of conversation they’d shared on the ride over had actually been enjoyable. He was connecting with Jack on a level other than wanting to fuck him. Maybe that’s what Jack had been trying to tell him all along.

  * * * *

  It was a little too noisy, a little too crowded, and the room they were in was enormous. But it was dazzling. There were palm trees everywhere, lined up in perfect formation, two to a cluster. The dozens of white cloth-covered tables were interspersed in the large open room, with a miniature lamp on almost every one. Basilica style archways welcomed patrons at the front, and lined the floor—all the way up to the bandstand. Gold filigree detailing adorned the walls and arches, and a multitude of recessed can lights in the high blue ceiling gave the impression that they were dining under the stars.

  Roman had secured a more private table in one of the corners, not too close to the music. Jack had wanted to protest when he saw Roman press a bill into the maître d’s hand, but Roman had gestured for Jack to wait. It turned out to be perfect, because this way, they were able to view what was happening but have no one at their backs. Jack always preferred that. There were only tables and upholstered chairs for the dining arrangement, so Jack didn’t have to worry about whether he was sitting too close to Roman. On occasion, though, their feet would touch. Jack never said anything, and he couldn’t tell if Roman was doing it on purpose or if it was just an accident.

  The menu had so many choices on it, he didn’t know what to do. When he’d been at Musso & Frank’s, a menu hadn’t been offered. Apparently, the Global Studios chiefs ate there so much that they didn’t even bother with one. All Vincent had asked Jack was if he liked lamb. Wanting to be polite, Jack had said yes. This time Jack could have a choice. The one time he and Nick had eaten at a somewhat fancy restaurant, they’d chosen the Pig ‘n Whistle on Hollywood Boulevard. Trixie had encouraged them to enjoy their new money a little, and not be such sour pusses all the time. They both had ordered what they knew best, but rarely ever had—steak.

  There were plenty of steaks on this menu, in all different cuts. But there were also other things that Jack couldn’t figure out. Words that he couldn’t even pronou
nce—like vichyssoise, consommé, asparagus polonaise, and hors d’oeuvres.

  The prices were pretty high—the whole bill would probably be twenty to thirty dollars—depending on what they got, but Jack had more money than he really needed. He couldn’t buy Roman any fancy artwork or clothing, and even if he did, he wouldn’t know what to get. Roman already seemed to have everything. But Jack could definitely buy him dinner.

  They had been somewhat quiet since arriving, but it didn’t seem too awkward. The orchestra played dinner music, and the hum of many conversations surrounded them.

  But now, the rise of panic began. He had been doing so well. However, being confronted by the multitude of food items offered overwhelmed him.

  I really wanted to do this for him, but I’m going to mess it up.

  He glanced up from the menu with the Arabian-inspired motif, and saw that Roman was watching him intently with a kind expression.

  “Do you know what you would like, Jack?”

  Roman held a lit cigarette between his fingers. His hands were crossed at the wrists on the table, and he leaned just a tad towards Jack. Jack watched the smoke curling up from Roman’s fingers as if in a trance.

  “Jack? The waiter shall be returning momentarily with our soda water. How about we start with an appetiser? Is there one that appeals to you?”

  Jack stared back at the word that started with a ‘V’, and tried to imagine what it meant. Roman reached over with his free hand and covered Jack’s with a little squeeze as he slid the menu from his grasp.

  “I can give you some suggestions if you’d like. There are several things here that I enjoy.”

  “You’ve been here before?”

  “Yes. A few times.”

  “Aw. I wanted to take you somewhere you’d never been.”

  Roman chuckled. “That’s very sweet, but we would have had to leave the country, and possibly travel to an unknown desert island. However, I’ve never been here with you. Which makes it feel as though I were here for the first time.” Roman inhaled his cigarette deeply, then stubbed it out in the crystal ashtray.

  “This is your evening, Jack, so I don’t want to step on your toes, so to speak. But would you mind terribly if I were to order for us? Seeing as I am acquainted with the selection already, perhaps you might trust my judgement?”

  What a relief.

  Jack wasn’t sure if Roman was just being nice, or if he really wanted to order for them, but either way, it saved him from making a fool of himself in front of Roman and the waiter.

  The waiter returned and Roman awed Jack with his easy and elegant way of ordering for them.

  “Yes, we shall begin with two orders of vichyssoise…”

  Vishy swa.

  “A lobster cocktail, a crab and avocado cocktail, and two filet mignon, rare.”

  Fillay min yawn.

  Eventually he would be able to order for them and make suggestions. But he had to admit, he enjoyed letting Roman take charge. Roman turned to Jack. He picked up his glass.

  “Here’s to our first date, my dear Jack. Thank you for bringing me here.”

  Roman waved his drink at Jack and raised his eyebrows. Jack took a quick peek around to see if anyone was looking their way, grabbed his glass then clinked it quickly with Roman’s.

  Roman took a swallow and set his soda down, all whilst keeping his eyes on Jack.

  He leaned over and whispered, “You know there are many men in the world who have never even had a cock in their mouth, yet still toast one another.”

  Jack gasped.

  “Let me worry about whether or not something is safe for us. I know this town better than it knows itself.”

  Jack lowered his head a moment. Roman coaxed his chin up with one finger the same way he had earlier.

  “I prefer seeing your lovely face rather than the top of your head.”

  “I’m sorry, Roman. I guess you never had no one beat you up or turn you away because you liked guys.”

  “Really? Who says I haven’t,” Roman said the last part bitterly, and looked away for a moment before turning to meet Jack’s eyes again. Roman’s smile was a little crooked, his eyes hooded with sadness.

  “Geez, Roman, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

  Roman’s face changed back to his normal above-it-all, slightly smug expression. “Hardly good table conversation on such a glorious evening. Tell me, Jack, what brought you here to Hollywood so that the fates could intervene and bring us together?”

  “Oh. Well, Nick—”

  Roman held his hand up to Jack. “Could I possibly hear this tale without a mention of the boyfriend?”

  Jack wasn’t sure what to make of that. It almost seemed as if Roman were angry, but he knew that Jack had been with Nick, so Jack couldn’t see why it should matter if he talked about him. “Sure. Uh, well I came here because we… I mean, there seemed to be good opportunities in Hollywood. To get good jobs and make real money.”

  “That there is. Did you not have any employment back in New York?”

  “How come you know that kind of stuff about me already?”

  Roman sighed and pulled out another cigarette from his case, offering one to Jack. He shook his head. “May I confess something to you? But you must promise not to be angry with me.”

  “Um. Okay.”

  Roman used his silver lighter that he had on the table to light the Murad. He inhaled deeply until the end glowed brightly. He blew out a long puff of smoke. “You see Jack, I was entranced by you from the moment I caught you watching me from the balcony—”

  “I wasn’t trying—”

  “Shush, Jack, we’ve been over this. I would not be sitting here with you now if you hadn’t done that, so I am quite grateful you did. But to answer your question, Hector, my valet, told me he saw you and Trixie arrive together. So I asked her about you. How did you think I was able to get my dinner party invite to you with your full name?”

  Jack held a hand to his head. He hadn’t really thought the whole thing through. He had been so mortified at being caught at Roman’s, then the thing with Nick had happened that same night. He hadn’t really paid much attention to those types of detail.

  “So unless you want to slap me across the face and storm out of here, I would still love to hear about what you did before you became a film star.”

  Jack forced himself not to look down, but he was incredibly embarrassed. How much had Trixie told him? “I would never want to slap you. And I’m not a film star.”

  “Of course you are. You are currently in a film, and you’re one of the stars. Hence, you are a film star.”

  Roman’s statement affected Jack deeply. Too much was happening to him. He couldn’t think about it just then. Being with Roman on a date and trying to have a coherent conversation with him was more than enough to handle at one time.

  “I built sets and painted scenery off Broadway.”

  Roman sat a little straighter, and tapped his ash into the tray. “Indeed? I’m trying to picture it. All I see right now is the handsome film actor. I can’t imagine you in coveralls.”

  Jack grunted. “I feel the opposite.”

  “How long ago, Jack? How long ago was it that you were there slaving in the theatre?”

  He had to stop and think. It seemed like it had been years and years. But it had only been a small amount of time. A very small amount. “A little over four months.”

  Roman’s shot his eyebrows up in surprise. “Really?”

  Jack had never heard Roman sound that shocked about anything. “Yeah. I guess it’s been pretty fast.”

  “Ah. ‘Tis the way of the star making machine out here. So, you came here to be in the movies.”

  Jack shook his head. He didn’t see how he could get too involved in the story without mentioning Nick at all, and he especially didn’t want to tell Roman anything about what they’d had to do to survive. He knew that if things went any further with Roman, he’d have to tell him everything. But not just yet. “No.
It was, you know, his idea.”

  “Hmmm. So I suppose I should be grateful to him for bringing you to me.”

  A stab of pain went through Jack’s heart. And for leaving me.

  Roman moved very close to him and whispered softly, “There, there, my sweet Jack. I am here for you now.”

  Tears stung behind Jack’s eyelids, and part of it was from Roman’s kind words. He didn’t believe them to be anything other than genuine. He could feel something different with Roman than he had with him before. It felt comforting. And safe.

  Carefully avoiding Nick’s part in his story of heading west, Jack told Roman his adventure. He told of hopping the train, which Roman delighted in and insisted it should be made into a movie. He also explained—skipping over key details—that they had begun working at Global building sets, and how they’d met Trixie. He was able to tell Roman about how he’d always admired the actors in the theatre and on film, and that is what had motivated him to pursue acting once he’d arrived in Hollywood. It was important to Jack that Roman not think the way Nick had—that it was just a flight of fancy from being around Trixie and the studios.

  All the while he regaled Roman with his tale, they had been eating their soup.

  I wonder if I should say anything about the soup being cold? It’s odd that such a ritzy joint would serve up unheated food.

  Jack paused before taking another swallow. It tasted pretty good, but it was strange to eat it that way.

  “Is there a problem with your soup, Jack?”

  “It ain’t… It’s not hot. Is yours okay?”

  Roman pressed his lips together, and Jack had the distinct impression that he was trying not to laugh.

  I’m so stupid about these types of thing. Roman deserves someone more sophisticated.

  “I said a dumb thing, didn’t I?”

  Jack felt Roman’s hand on his knee. It was a light touch, perfectly still, the heat from the contact with Roman building. For some reason, Jack didn’t want to move away this time.

  “It’s not dumb. The first time I had vichyssoise I thought the very same thing. It grows on you.” Roman pulled his hand away and sat up straight. It was too bad they were in public, and he couldn’t keep it there.