CHAPTER THREE
The phone started ringing right when I entered my apartment. This is it! I dropped my groceries and ran into my bedroom to answer the call. “Hello?”
“How are ya, Sugar?”
“Hi, Agatha! Did I get it?”
Her long sigh was enough of an answer. My heart dropped to the floor. I leaned against the wall and rubbed my face. “Are you serious?”
“It was very close. They’ll be in contact if something changes.”
That movie would never be a hit, but it could have been my first attempt at a comedy, which I always wanted to try. Not to mention that I was the living definition of “beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Is there anything else?” I half-begged.
“Nothing right now, but you know how quickly things can change. You scored High Life after only two auditions.”
True, but it felt like a decade ago, as my bank account would attest.
“Is there maybe… oh, I don’t know, a commercial that I can do?”
She laughed. “You think it’s easy scoring commercials these days?”
I tried to keep my frustration at bay. “Well, I can’t just sit and wait like a dummy. I’m still taking acting classes, but they don’t come cheap, and they definitely don’t take up my entire day.”
“I hate to be a bitch here, but have you thought about being a waiter temporarily? Maybe a bartender? You’ll make great money once you show them your smiles.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “This wasn’t the plan. After the Globe—”
“Come on, Jonah, you’re a smart guy. A plan? This is Hollywood! Nobody cares about your plan. Just hang in there and keep improving your acting. Maybe talk to Eliot about helping you out. You can’t work anywhere that isn’t chic.”
It took me a moment to process her words. “Wait, how do you know about Eliot?”
“You told me.”
“I didn’t. I tried calling you the other day to tell you about going to Pickles, but you were busy.”
“Well, Eliot knows many people, and one of them must have mentioned it. Think about what I said. Ego doesn’t pay the bills—unless Ego is a sugar daddy. I’ll be in touch if anything comes up.”
“Fine. Thanks.” For nothing.
Even though I’d just gotten home, I needed to clear my head. I entered my car and drove aimlessly around Norwalk, where I lived. I passed by billboards for Batman Returns and Wayne’s World . The year was shaping up to be packed with blockbusters, but that had nothing to do with me. Less than a year ago, High Life was on billboards as well—albeit, only on small ones. But that hadn’t stopped me from glowing with pride.
After an hour of driving aimlessly, I headed back home. My head might have been a bit clearer, but my mood was still in the gutter. I slumped on my bed and let the ceiling fan cool me down.
I debated whether to call Eliot. After my strange and slightly traumatic visit to Pickles, Eliot gave me his home number and told me to keep in touch. He might have just been polite, but I had nothing to lose by trying. I took his number from my wallet and dialed his home, worried he might have forgotten me in the week that had passed since we met. He must be meeting dozens of people every night.
“Hello,” he answered, his voice as deep and rich as I remembered.
“Um, hey, Eliot.”
“Huh, if it isn’t the talented Jonah Carter.”
I sat a bit straighter on my bed. “You recognize my voice?”
“I do, though I tend to remember most people I meet.”
“Oh.”
“Are you disappointed?”
“Well, you also called me talented. Do you say that to most people?”
“I do not.”
“Then I guess I can forgive you.”
He laughed, and my nervousness floated away.
“How are you, Jonah?”
I exhaled. “Can I be honest?”
“I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”
“I’ve lost a role I wanted.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. What was the role?”
“For a comedy. It sounded pretty dumb, really.” But so did Wayne’s World , and everyone was talking about that film.
“Dumb comedies are not your niche. You should aspire higher.”
“My current aspiration is to get paid.”
“I see. Money’s tight?”
“Very. Hmm, I was actually calling you about that. Do you maybe know of a place where I can work as a waiter?”
He stalled before asking, “Do you think that it’s wise?”
“My agent seems to think so.”
“How is Agatha?”
“Fine, I guess. I only talk to her on the phone these days when she bothers picking up.”
“Well, unlike her, I believe in a more personal approach. I would like to take you out tonight to brighten your mood.”
“Are you serious? You don’t have to.”
“I am well aware of my freedom of choice. Should I pick you up at eight?”
“That sounds great. Aren’t you working, though?”
“Call it an owner’s perk. I’ll see you at eight.”
*
I left my apartment when Eliot honked at exactly eight o’clock. The temperature was mild, so I settled for a short-sleeved button-down shirt and my nicest pair of jeans. I’d spent a bit too long making sure my curls were behaving, but they had a mind of their own.
Walking toward Eliot’s gorgeous turquoise convertible, I couldn’t help but feel like I was going on a date, butterflies flapping in my stomach and all. Only it wasn’t a date, and the last thing I needed was to get into anything with this man, who was clearly way above my league. He must have also believed me to be straight after what happened at his club.
“Hello,” I said as I slid into the car. “Sweet ride.”
“Hello to you, too, and Gloria appreciates your compliment.”
“Gloria?”
He stroked the dashboard fondly.
“Oh, I see. Hi, Gloria. Where are you and Eliot taking me?”
Eliot began driving. “We’re going to a spot close to the ocean, where we will dine and talk.”
I had expected a club or a bar, but this sounded better. “Awesome.”
He sniffed. “You smell nice. Is that the new Jean Paul Gaultier?”
“Yes. I rubbed it on my neck from a magazine.”
He laughed, maybe thinking I was joking. He drove us away from Norwalk with the radio set to an old Motown station. It seemed fitting for him to enjoy such music. I noticed his clothes were less formal than last time, but his elegant blue shirt still complemented his shoulders and lean chest.
“Tell me something about yourself,” he said, lowering the volume.
“What would you like to know?”
“Something that will surprise me. It’s hard to be surprised these days.”
Well, let’s see. The only way I managed to score Agatha as an agent was by swearing not to tell anyone I was gay, and the closest I’ve come to a sexual encounter in the last six months was that blowjob at Pickles.
“My father’s a minister,” I ended up saying. “Back in Kentucky, he’s sort of a big deal if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“That is indeed surprising. You used to go to church a lot?”
“Oh yeah, all the time.”
“Do you still go?”
“I haven’t been since I left home. I had my fill.”
“And what does your mother do?”
“She organizes things for the church like fundraisers and boycotts of books with boobies. I’m not sure if she’s still doing that, though.”
“Am I to assume you and your parents aren’t talking on the phone each day?”
“I haven’t spoken to them in almost three years. They were very vocal about my decision to move to LA.” Though maybe I shouldn’t have told them I was gay during the same conversation.
Eliot glanced at me. “Three years is a long time. Do you have other family members?”
“I’m an only child. I used to be close to my grandmother, but she passed away a few years ago.”
“Was she also of the religious sort?”
“Nanna Ruth? Hell no! I only started thinking of acting because of all the movies she let me watch. She was my audience when I made my plays and tried out costumes. She even signed me up for a library in a different town so my dad wouldn’t know I was borrowing unholy literature.”
Eliot smiled. “I’m sure I would have liked Nanna Ruth.”
“Yeah, she was great.” I sometimes feared what would have happened if she hadn’t broadened my horizons and allowed me to be myself. “So, what about you? Where are you from to be talking all fancy?”
“Do I talk fancy?”
“You know you do. I’m feeling like a hillbilly next to you.”
“I can assure you, as someone who grew up with hillbillies, they would not have accepted you as their equal.”
“Oh yeah? Ain’t my English plain enough for ya, mister?”
He laughed. “Take it as a compliment, Jonah Carter.”
“You can call me Joe.”
“Why on earth would I do that?”
“It’s shorter.”
“I promise I won’t run out of breath from saying your long name.”
“Suit yourself.” I glanced out the window to see the ocean as we began to drive up a mountain. We parked a few minutes later on top of a cliff, the silvery moon the only source of light, glittering over the endless water.
“Here we are,” Eliot said.
I looked around. It was just the two of us out here. “It’s dark.”
“For now.”
We exited the car, and Eliot went to the trunk to take out the things he’d brought.
“Need help?” I asked.
“No need. Go look at the view, but don’t fall—you’re not famous enough for the story to be tragic.”
I laughed and walked closer to the edge, the silvery ocean spread as far as I could see. “It’s beautiful!”
Eliot came closer. “Help me spread the blanket.”
There was almost no wind, so the blanket stayed still once we laid it on the grass.
“Now, for the light.” Eliot placed a lantern a few feet from us. Seconds later, golden light pushed away the darkness.
We sat on the blanket next to a big picnic basket. I peeked inside. “Sushi, yummy.”
“I forgot to ask what you like, so I guessed. Wine?”
“Yes, please.” I was still at the stage where drinking wine made me feel sophisticated, as long as I didn’t drink too much.
Eliot pulled out a bottle. “This one’s a bit strong, but it’s from a good winery in Italy.”
“Well, if it ain’t from Italy, I ain’t drinking.”
“Good boy.” He poured wine into tall glasses. “What should we toast to?”
“Hmm, since you’re the host, we should toast to your health.”
“I’m not eighty yet, so let’s toast to your next big role.”
“Oh, I’ll drink the entire bottle to that!”
The wine tasted rich and strong. I hoped to never learn how much it cost. I took off my shoes and socks, and Eliot did the same. His feet were pale and groomed, as big as his hands.
He opened the basket and handed me a sushi roll. “I never tried sushi before I moved here,” I said after eating two delicious pieces.
“Is it not popular in Kentucky?”
“We prefer our Hot Browns and Burgoo.” I devoured six more pieces before asking, “Do you get a lot of famous people coming to your club?”
“Other than you?”
“I’m not famous.”
“And do you want to be?”
That made me pause. “I want to play roles that people will remember. It’s not about fame.”
He whispered, “Not even a little bit?”
I hid a smile. “Maybe a little. Is that bad?”
“To seek fame? No, as long as it isn’t your only goal. And yes, famous people visit my club, though it wasn’t my intent when I bought the place in the late ‘80s. I enjoy talking to people, and owning a club seemed like a good way to go about it.”
I stopped myself from asking if he usually took his guests out here with a picnic basket.
“You could’ve been an actor,” I said. “You have the looks.” I realized it might come across as flirting, so I hurried to add, “I meant that I could picture you in a movie, and you have a way with words.”
“Thank you, but I’d rather leave the acting to you.” He smiled. “Is there a special lady in your life?”
“Hmm.” My words jumbled in my mouth. I was well practiced in answering that question, but something about him made me more self-conscious. “I’m single,” I said, a bit too stiffly. “I want to focus on my career.”
“I understand.”
Feeling pleasantly full, I lay back with my hands behind my head and my eyes to the stars. Next to me, Eliot did the same.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “I love it here.”
“I’m glad. And to think, this isn’t even the main attraction of the evening.”
I turned my head to see his profile. The golden light from the lantern made his features more profound—a skillfully crafted sculpture. I stopped myself from saying he was beautiful. “What’s the main attraction?”
His mouth stretched into a smile, making a dimple appear at the center of his cheek. “You’ll find out soon.”
“A hint, then.”
“Nope.”
“Oh, all right.” I returned to watch the endless sky. The soft ocean wind made my curls dance on my forehead. I didn’t want to spoil the moment by bringing up my problems, but I couldn’t ignore why I’d called him in the first place. “Do you think I’m being spoiled by not finding a part-time job?”
He thought before answering. “Do you consider yourself a spoiled man?”
“No, but maybe I’m letting my ego take over.”
“You don’t strike me as the type. I suggest you wait a few more weeks to focus on auditioning and acting classes. If you feel there’s no choice, I’ll make some calls and find you a job in the city.”
I felt relieved to have a logical plan to follow. “Thank you. I’ll mention you in my first Oscar speech.”
“You do that. But until then, I’d like a favor.” Maybe for the first time, I heard hesitation in his voice.
“Name it.”
He tilted his head to meet my eyes. “Would you act for me? Perform some lines?”
“Which type of lines?”
“Anything that will make you happy.”
“Well… I have something, but you need to promise not to laugh.”
“On my honor.”
I pushed myself up and went to stand on the cool grass. “It’s a scene I used to perform for Nanna Ruth. She was into Shakespeare.”
“A fine woman was Nanna Ruth.” He moved to sit with his legs crossed, looking at me intensely.
“It’s from All’s Well That Ends Well .”
“Lovely. And what part will you play?”
“Hmm…” Maybe I should’ve picked something else. “Helena.”
He nodded for me to proceed.
I began delivering my lines, not allowing the awkwardness of the situation to get in my way. I finished with a line that felt relevant to my life. “Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.”
Eliot clapped, his blue eyes glimmering. “Thank you, Jonah.”
I shrugged, hoping that my blush wasn’t showing. “No big deal.”
He rose to his feet and came to stand in front of me, taller by almost a head. I swallowed, sure I was about to be kissed beneath the stars.
“Are you ready to go?”
I blinked. “What? Oh, yes. We can also stay here a bit more.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want you to get too tired. The night is still young, and your gift awaits.”
“A gift?” It felt as if he’d given me more than enough.
He made a mouth-zipping gesture.
I helped him pack everything into the trunk before we drove off, leaving behind a memory I wanted to hold on to for as long as possible.
*
We parked in front of a strip club.
“Hmm, is this where we’re going?”
Eliot killed the engine. “It is.”
Oh, God.
“We don’t have to. I mean, it’s sort of late, and—”
He put his hand on my leg, squeezing gently. “You can trust me.”
Could I?
We climbed out of the car. I didn’t feel comfortable walking around South Central LA at night, but Eliot carried himself like nothing could touch him, and I pondered how little I knew him.
He nodded to the bouncer, and we were ushered inside. The flickering red and blue neon lights gave me a headache, and the loud music didn’t help. I ignored the nearby performances as Eliot led me toward the bar. He ordered us gin and tonic without asking.
“How did you know I like gin and tonic?” I asked.
He leaned close to my ear. “I can read you well, Jonah Carter.”
I beg to differ.
I watched the stage closest to us, where a topless blonde danced to the latest Madonna song.
“Are you done with your drink?” Eliot asked.
I took a final sip. “Yes.”
“Let’s go, then.”
I followed him deeper into the club through overly-excited men. It seemed that he knew where he was going.
“Do you come here often?” I asked.
“This is my first time, but I got instructions in advance. Oh, here we are.”
We stopped in front of a dim hallway with a row of doors on both sides. Eliot led me to the farthest room and opened the door. Inside, a leather chair sat at the center, with a couch to the side. The air smelled of lavender.
“Sit,” Eliot said.
I sat on the armchair with a sigh, guessing where this was heading. If I was lucky, it would end with a lap dance, but I worried about another blowjob. It didn’t take a village to get me hard, but it had required a lot of concentration that time at Pickles.
Eliot stood in front of me, looking down into my eyes. “Do you trust me?”
I didn’t fully, but I nodded, caught in his gaze.
“I’ll be back soon.”
Once he left, I let out a long breath and rubbed my face. Those beautiful moments on the cliff seemed like a summer haze. I wanted to go home, to erase this pointless part from my memory. I didn’t know what I’d done to make him think I’d be into getting blowjobs from random girls. Perhaps it was common courtesy in some LA circles.
A few minutes later, Eliot returned. I straightened, expecting a girl to follow him inside, but Eliot didn’t return with a girl.
My stomach tightened as the unfamiliar man shut the door behind him, looking a few years older than me. He was blond and very tan, his shirtless body gleaming with oil.
“Uh, Eliot…”
He came to stand behind me, his hands on my shoulders. The room was quiet enough for me to hear my rapid heartbeat.
“This is Jack,” Eliot said. “For the time being, Jonah, Jack is yours.”
“What? I don’t—”
He leaned down and whispered, “Didn’t I say I can read you well? Let me give you this.”
I couldn’t speak or think. My eyes followed Jack as he walked to a panel on the wall. Seconds later, the silence was replaced by soft electronic music. Jack stepped closer, his muscles shifting underneath his glittering skin.
He stroked my cheek and smiled, a wet dream of a man.
“I—I’m not sure,” I stammered.
“He’s shaking,” Jack said in a southern accent. I wondered if he’d come to LA to become an actor.
“Then it’s up to you to make him relax,” Eliot said.
Jack nodded and took a step back. He began to move his body in sync with the music, slowly removing the rest of his clothes until he remained fully naked.
Eliot leaned to raise my hand, placing it against Jack’s smooth and oily chest. I swallowed, even though my mouth was dry, and slowly ran my palm across his firm pecs. My erection pressed stubbornly against my jeans as Jack undulated his body like a snake, his arms above his head.
It was unapologetically sleazy, and I was a fly caught in his erotic web.
“Jack, I think that Jonah needs air down there.”
I tensed as Jack reached to pull down my zipper, then lowered my jeans and underwear to release my erection. I didn’t care how exposed I was—I wanted this man—Eliot’s gift to me.
The constant dread of sabotaging my career had made me resent my desires, and it felt so unbelievably unfair.
“What do you want, Jonah?” Eliot whispered in my ear.
“I want…”
“Say it. No one will judge.”
“I want to fuck you,” I told Jack, a tear sliding down my cheek.
Eliot squeezed my shoulders in approval. Without saying a word, Jack went to lean over the couch, spreading his legs.
“Go on,” Eliot prompted when I failed to command my limbs.
I drew a breath, pushed myself from the chair, and turned to look at Eliot. “Will you tell anyone about this?” I never felt more vulnerable, standing with my cock out in front of the man who had unmasked me.
Eliot’s eyes hardened. “I will never tell, Jonah.”
And I believed him with all my heart.