“Hi, Russ. No, let me have a Coke.” Since I’d taken the car, I’d lay off the hard stuff. Wills had rubbed off on me.
“Don’t you look tasty!”
I turned and faced one of the newer rent boys, who went by the name of Grand Prix.
“Sweetcheeks! It’s you.” He had brown hair and brown eyes, but they were nothing like my lover’s.
“Hello, Geep. Does that mean you don’t think I look tasty?”
“Truthfully? I’d do you so fast it’d make your head spin. Word is you’ve got a tight little ass. At least that’s what Charlemagne says. I’d like to see for myself. Wanna step into the men’s room?” He waggled his eyebrows at me.
That took me aback. I had no idea Charlemagne was still talking about the few hours we’d spent together.
“So, what do you say?”
“I say no thanks. I’ve got a guy, and I won’t screw around on him.”
He shrugged. “Your loss.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here on a work night.”
“I could say the same for you. Aren’t you out of the business?”
“Yes, I am, but I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by for a drink.”
“Here’s your Coke, Sweets. That gentleman is buying.” He nodded toward the end of the bar. An older man sat there, raising his drink and looking hopeful.
“Excuse me a minute.” I took the glass and joined the man. “Thank you for the soda.”
“You didn’t want something stronger?”
“I’m driving.”
“Oh, but…. You’re Sweetcheeks, aren’t you? I thought I heard that boy call you that.”
“I stopped using that name. I’m no longer in the business.”
Now he looked like he was going to cry. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.” I sat down next to him and touched his arm. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I…I’ve never done this.” And a tear actually slid down his cheek. “I’m fat and bald and—”
“You’re not.” Oh, he was a little overweight, and his hair was thinning, but he had a sweet expression on his face. “And you think the only way you can get a boy is by buying him?”
“Yes. I heard you were kind and took care of your…your….”
“My clients?” I didn’t know who told him that, but I was pleased to have such a reputation. “What would you like me to call you?”
“You’ll spend the night with me?” he asked hopefully.
“No. I’m with someone now.” He looked around the bar, and I wouldn’t laugh at him. “I mean I’m in a relationship.”
His shoulders slumped. “Then what does it matter what my name is?”
“I’m going to introduce you to someone.”
“Yes? My name is—”
“I don’t think you want to use your real name.”
His eyes widened. “I…I never thought…I don’t know what to use.”
“I think you look like a Martin. Is that okay with you?” He nodded, and I glanced around. “Kory.”
A slim rent boy in his mid-twenties sauntered over. “Hi, Sweets.” And although he spoke to me, he let his gaze run over Martin. “What can I do for you?”
“I’d like you to meet Martin. Would you take care of him?” I leaned close and whispered in his ear, “Treat him well, okay? I think he’s new to our side of the lake.”
“It’ll be my pleasure.” Kory smiled at him and held out his hand. “Hello, Martin. My name is Kory. May I join you for a drink?”
I left them there, but before I could decide where I wanted to sit, Grand Prix sidled up to me and latched onto my arm.
“That was a waste of a perfectly good john,” he said, urging me toward a table at the rear. “If you’re pimping now, you could have tossed him in my direction.”
“Did you really want him?”
“God, no! He’s short, fat, and bald, and probably has bad breath in the bargain—”
“Actually, he doesn’t.”
“—but a buck’s a buck.”
I took his fingers off my arm. “So what are you doing here, Geep?”
“I’m schmoozing. Come on and join us.” He gestured toward the largest table, which was crowded with rent boys. “Another round, guys?” They nodded, and he raised his hand. “Russ, drinks for my constituents.”
“Constituents?” I nodded to the boys, greeting them, and pulled up a chair. The way they looked at me made my skin crawl, but that was ridiculous. I knew these guys.
“I’m running for Le Roi.”
“Good luck.” It was an expensive proposition, which I remembered not only from when I’d run, but from my year as Le Roi.
“Do you mean that?”
I took a sip of my soda so I wouldn’t have to answer him.
“‘Cause I could really use your help, Sweets.”
“How?”