Chapter 8
Friday, November 1
Mike wiped his lips on his napkin. “Anthony, do you always do the cooking?”
Anthony preened. “I make a mean omelet, don’t I? And yeah, it’s usually me in the kitchen.” He grinned and launched into song, a Taylor Swift number Mike vaguely recognized, something about being in the kitchen humming.
“And here we go again,” Elliott muttered.
Anthony gave him a brief glare before glancing at the others. “We’re not gonna discuss your past culinary efforts, are we?”
Elliott shuddered. “God, no. It’s much safer if we stay out of the kitchen.” He snuck a glance at Jim. “Don’t you agree?”
Jim rolled his eyes. “Christ, it was one time , okay?”
“Sure it was,” Sam retorted. “And we all got food poisoning, remember? Girl, you know the rule. You are not allowed within five feet of a chicken ever again.”
Elliott snorted. “Sweetie, you know she prefers a bear over a breast any day.”
Jim squinted at him.
Anthony leaned back in his chair. “Of course, before things took a downward turn, we used to eat out a lot.”
Sam smiled. “Breakfast at Café Heaven, dinner at Tin Pan Alley, Ross’ Grill, Sal’s Place, the Red Inn—”
“Ciro & Sal’s, the Crown & Anchor,” Elliott added. He patted his flat stomach. “I could put on ten pounds just looking at the menus.”
Mike had to ask. “When did things start going downhill?”
The four men glanced at each other.
This was getting him nowhere.
“Look, I get that you might not want to rake over bad times, but we have to talk about this. I have some big decisions to make.” Ashley dug him in the ribs with her elbow and coughed loudly. Heat rushed through him. “Oh yeah. Before we go any further, and to avoid a night like the last one…” He stared at three of the faces around the table. “Offering me sex is not the way to persuade me to let you stay. Have you all got that?”
Sam’s mouth fell open, and he jerked his head to gape at Elliott, Anthony, and Jim. “You did what?”
Anthony narrowed his eyes. “You telling us you didn’t?”
“Of course I didn’t,” he retorted, his eyes wide. “Because that would’ve been all kinds of wrong .”
“Who died and made you Mother Superior?” Jim flung out.
“Girls, can we save the bitch fight for later?” Ashley glared at them. “Because there are more important matters to discuss here.” When they gazed at her, their faces flushed, she nodded. “That’s better. Now, can one of you answer the question?” She gestured to their surroundings. “This place has everything going for it. So what went wrong?”
“Are you just not very good drag queens? Is that it? Were the shows a flop?” Mike wasn’t usually so adversarial, but he figured his barb would get them talking.
Anthony’s eyes flashed. “Honey, we are fabulous drag queens.” He got his phone out and scrolled. “There. See for yourself.”
Mike stared at the screen. “Oh wow. You look amazing. What’s your name?”
He grinned. “Miss Dixx.”
Miss Dixx was a vision in green sequins, her hair pulled up on top of her head, secured with a heart-shaped headpiece. Her heels had to be at least five inches, and considering Anthony was the tallest of the four, that was an awesome sight.
Mike smiled. “Okay, I’m impressed.”
“This is me.” Elliott held out his phone, and Mike stared at the slim queen with long crimson hair that reached her ass, a generous cleavage and narrow waist, her sparkly red catsuit clinging to her curves. Elliott beamed. “I’m Cherry Popp.”
Ashley chuckled. “Love the name.”
It was Jim’s turn. He handed Mike his phone. “And I’m Luscious D-Lite.”
Ashley peered over Mike’s shoulder. “You’ve got a whole Courtney Act thing going on, haven’t you?” Mike gave her a puzzled glance, and she rolled her eyes. “Australian drag queen. I swear, sometimes I’m not even sure you’re gay.” Luscious had glossy blond hair, and shone in a bright yellow dress shimmering under the lights.
Jim flushed, and Elliott snickered. “Told ya you were being too obvious. Not that I can’t see why you wouldn’t ship. Courtney is amazing.”
Mike glanced at Sam. “And what about you?” He was curious to see Sam in all his drag glory.
Face it, you’d be interested in seeing Sam if he was wearing a sack.
Yeah, the guy was definitely Mike’s type.
Sam smiled. He scrolled on his phone and held it up for Mike to see. “I’m Candy Cummings.”
Candy really rocked the blue wig and sequined purple dress, and the heels were awesome, though how she managed to walk in them, Mike had no idea. What made him smile, however, was the fact that she kept the beard, tinged with blue dye.
“You all look fantastic,” he admitted. “So I’ll ask again… What went wrong?”
They fell silent, until Jim let out a sigh. “I guess it all started when Polly left.”
Mike stilled. “Polly Amoray? I saw photos of Nick and Polly in a drawer.”
“They were an item.” Anthony’s face tightened. “She’s the reason he’s dead.”
Elliott touched his arm lightly. “Babe, a heart attack killed Nick.”
“Yeah, because she broke his heart, that’s why.” Anthony swallowed, then shocked the hell out of Mike by launching into a song. This time it was a gut-wrenching rendition of the chorus of Without You .
Sam rolled his eyes. “And she’s off again.”
Jim clamped a hand over Anthony’s mouth. “No singing at the breakfast table, remember?”
Anthony glared at him as Jim removed his hand.
Sam met Mike’s gaze. “You’d better get used to it. This happens a lot around here. Ant’s got a song for every occasion, and I do mean every occasion.”
“Although you should be flattered,” Elliott added. “He doesn’t usually do this in front of other people.” He smiled. “I guess he feels comfortable around you.”
Mike gazed at Anthony in admiration. “You can really sing. Why isn’t this part of your act?”
He shrugged. “The people who come to our shows expect lip-syncing. They don’t wanna hear me.”
“ I’d pay to hear you,” Ashley confessed.
Anthony patted her hand. “You’re sweet, but… I just don’t have the confidence to sing in public. Maybe one day?”
“Anyhow, Polly went off to find fame and fortune in Hollywood, and that was the start.” Sam’s expression grew gloomy. “Everything just… snowballed.”
“Nick began drinking, for one thing,” Elliott said in a low voice. “We’d put on a show and his heart just wasn’t in it. Before she left, he’d be in the audience, whooping and cheering with the rest of them. After?” He shrugged. “He’d stay in the bar, drowning his sorrows in a glass of bourbon.”
“Several glasses, you mean.” Anthony’s brow furrowed.
“The next blow was losing Frank. He was our pianist,” Jim informed Mike. “Polly had been gone a week before she messaged him to come join her. He was packed and out of here in less time than it takes for me to shoot when a guy nails my prostate.”
Ashley snickered. “Okay, that comes under the heading of TMI.”
Mike frowned. “I saw a photo of Nick and… what was his name?”
“Doesn’t matter. She’s Polly now, and sharing that would be deadnaming her.” Anthony finished his coffee. “As much as we hate what she did— all the things she did—we won’t do that.”
“She transitioned?” Ashley asked.
“Yup, about a year after she left us. She found herself an amazing plastic surgeon who provided her with an equally amazing boob job. So yeah, she had the work done, and now he’s a she.”
“You said all the things she did. What else happened?”
Elliott glanced at Jim, who nodded. Elliott leaned forward. “We all knew she was with Nick, but… we also knew she was cheating on him with Cal.”
“Who was he?” Mike’s heart sank. “Did Nick know?”
“Cal was my boyfriend,” Jim ground out.
“And we’re not sure if Nick ever found out,” Sam said.
“Of course he did,” Anthony yelled. “He wasn’t blind. That was just another nail in his coffin. And we all know why she poached Cal, don’t we?”
“Cal was the one who made our costumes,” Sam explained. “What that man couldn’t do with a needle and thread wasn’t worth knowing.”
“Polly wanted to make sure her costumes were better than anyone else’s,” Jim said with a sneer.
“Did he follow her to Hollywood as well?” Ashley’s lip curled and she wrinkled her nose.
“Yeah, about a week after she left here. So then we were short one pianist and one dressmaker, and we never found anyone to replace them.” Jim scowled. “And then there was the dancers.”
“We had a team of six guys who used to dance for our big numbers,” Elliott explained. “Oh, they didn’t desert the sinking ship right away. But once Hollywood Queen aired, we didn’t see them for dust.”
“What makes it so painful about Polly’s betrayal?” Elliott’s eyes glinted. “She was our drag mom. She helped us all get started, she gave advice on our acts, our costumes…”
“And now she’s making big bucks in LA, while we’re struggling to put food on the table, or stay warm this winter. And there ain’t no winter like a P-town winter.” Jim sounded so down Mike’s heart went out to him.
“Mike…” Sam glanced at the others, and they gave him reassuring nods. “The thing is… We don’t want to leave P-town. This is the safest, best town I’ve ever lived in.”
“Same here,” Elliott added.
Jim and Anthony joined him, their expressions grave.
“I know you own this place, but I’m asking, on behalf of us all, that you don’t throw us out onto the streets.” Sam grimaced. “We can’t afford to find anywhere else.”
“Just like nearly everywhere else in this country, P-town rents are sky high,” Anthony told him. “That’s if you can even find a place.”
“We’ll earn our keep.” Elliott gazed at him with such desperation that Mike’s throat seized. “We’ll clean, Anthony will cook, we’ll shop, whatever it takes.” He flushed. “Short of giving a repeat performance of last night.”
“Thank God,” Ashley murmured. “I might get some sleep tonight.”
Mike sighed. “I’m in the same boat as you. I don’t have any money to fall back on. I’m going to struggle to heat this place. And when the taxes are due, I won’t be able to pay them. I’m sorry, but…” He squared his shoulders. “Selling is probably my best option.”
Four dismayed faces stared back at him, and he hated the fact that he’d had to drop that bombshell.
“Not necessarily.” Ashley sat upright. “What if there was a way to keep the Velvet House?”
What the fuck?