Lexington Black (14 page)

'Thanks,' Rob said faintly. 'He didn't have
to do all this. He really didn't.'

'No, but he wanted to.'

'He's a generous man.'

'Only to those he likes and admires, Mr.
Martyn.'

Rob didn't have a lot to say to that. He
fought the desire to gawp like a tourist as he was driven into the
heart of Manhattan. Ty negotiated the Holland Tunnel, eventually
driving into an underground parking lot under an immense black
glass building. Rob caught a glimpse of the sign over the entrance
saying "Black Tower."

The concierge promptly handed over the key
and smiled at Rob, saying "welcome to Manhattan."

Up on the 49th floor, Jonathan gave him a
whistle-stop tour of the apartment. And what an apartment it was,
with a swooping view down to 5th Avenue, warm blond wood floors and
comfortable brown leather couches, a bed the size of a swimming
pool and large kitchen fitted with all the latest technology. He
had never been in such an overtly luxurious place before in his
life. It made the five star hotel he and Sandy had stayed in on
their honeymoon look like a youth hostel.

'There's one more thing,' Jonathan said. He
led Rob to another door which he unlocked and opened. It led to a
short flight of stairs heading up to another floor. Jonathan went
up them and Rob followed him. Within a few moments they were out
into bright sunshine and tropical heat.

'This is the pool deck,' Jonathan explained,
as though Rob had not already noticed the shimmering square of blue
water that seemed to drop off the edge of the building into the
street below.

'Wow,' Rob said stupidly.

'This is also an alternative entrance to Mr.
Black's penthouse suite. He only gives this key to certain guests.'
Jonathan smiled and held out the key to Rob, who took it slowly.
'Use the pool whenever you like. Mr. Black says you're to make
yourself at home here.'

Rob nodded. 'I appreciate it.'

As Jonathan showed him around Lex's two
storey apartment, he began to feel more and more out of his depth.
Jonathan explained that the apartment Rob was in was actually one
of two suites on the 49th floor. Lex's living space took up the
whole of the floor space above, and was positively palatial in
comparison to Rob's. The decor was a mix of 1970's Bond movie set
and 21st Century chic, with curvaceous edges and black marble
floors, flecked with sparkling fragments which could have been
diamonds, and a glossy black and white kitchen with an enormous
white work surface which ended in a large circular eating area.

Rob stood in the middle of the floor and
looked around him. A massive, modern chandelier hovered over the
living area, which looked out on the pool. Otherwise, there was
minimum clutter, the emphasis being on clean lines and unsullied
floor space. Four large white leather sofas surrounded a thick red
rug, on which stood a large glass coffee table, held up on curved
chrome legs. After consideration, Rob decided it was definitely
more Bond than Austin Powers.

He went back down to his own apartment with
Jonathan, who asked him if he needed anything else. Rob didn't.
What more could he possibly want after all that overt luxury? He
was ready to be on his own so he could digest just being there and
possibly get some sleep before meeting Lex that night. He didn't
want to fall asleep on him again.

After Jonathan left, Rob explored the
apartment more fully. He found his battered suitcases in his room.
They looked shabby on the thick cream carpet so he quickly emptied
them, put his clothes away in the walk-in closet and kicked the
suitcases into a cupboard, gratefully shutting the door on them. He
wouldn't think about when the time inevitably came to get them out
again, and plummet him back to reality.

In the kitchen he stood in front of an
enormous larder fridge. He had opened ten cupboards before locating
a glass but now he poured crushed ice and water into it, just
because he could. Whilst drinking it, he opened the fridge, just
out of curiosity. To his surprise, it had already been stocked with
milk, orange juice, coffee for the coffee machine, a bottle of red
and bottle of white wine, butter, eggs, bacon, pastries, and a note
in front of it all saying "Welcome to New York. I bought in a few
items to get you started."

It then listed a couple of nearby grocery
stores before being signed off with an extravagant "L."

Rob was grateful, but right then all he
wanted to do was catch up on the sleep he had missed overnight. He
had never been a relaxed flyer, even when travelling First Class.
The bed was enormous and looked very inviting. He sat down on it,
bouncing gently to test its firmness. Very nice. He lay back and
closed his eyes.

*****

He woke with a start, and was alarmed to see
that it was four o'clock in the afternoon. Jetlag had never suited
him very well, but he suspected that it would work in his favour
this time. Lex had warned him about the late nights with his
strange friends, all of whom wanted to meet him.

He stood for a long time in the cavernous
shower, letting the hot spray wake him up. He felt disorientated
and a little stoned as he dressed again and went down onto the
street to find something to wear for that evening. The concierge
directed him to Bloomingdales, five blocks distant.

Two hours later, he was back at the
apartment, getting ready to go out. He had been reliably informed
by a helpful local that the Blue Bayou was a Texan bar, so he had
bought a Western-style checked shirt and snug-fitting blue Levi's,
and tried on the Stetson he had found in a vintage store. He didn't
want to appear over-dressed but wanted to fit in. Finally pulled on
his battered but clean brown leather boots and left the room.

Out on the street he looked back to commit to
memory the building he was staying in. Black Tower soared, an
unmistakable gleaming obelisk of iridescent glass. He walked down
four more blocks until he reached 54th Street. He could see the
Blue Bayou from the intermittently flashing blue neon sign.
Saxophone music poured into the street as the door opened. He went
in and looked around.

Everyone was wearing black clothes and
disbelieving expressions as he walked in. Mentally, he made a note
not to trust people who were too helpful in the future. He was
aware of the looks as he tried to see where Lex could be. Catcalls
of "yeehaw" and "where's Tonto" followed him as he moved closer to
the bar. The urge to remove the Stetson was almost overwhelming but
he didn't want anyone to think he knew he had made some god-awful
fashion
faux pas. This is how I roll
, his stance said as he
sauntered, Clint Eastwood-style, towards the bar. Inside, he was
shriveling with embarrassment.

'You lost?' The bartender looked pitying at
him.

'I'll have a beer please,' Rob shouted above
the crowd.

A wolf-whistle from close by was followed by
a hoot of laughter. He turned his back on them and tried to look
moody rather than self-conscious.

******

Oh. My. God,' Caressa said dramatically.
'Who's the extra from Brokeback Mountain?'

I was used to the dramas of Caressa. She
lived her life at breakneck speed, swooping from deep lows to
stratospheric highs like a peregrine falcon on high grade cocaine.
I had been trying to fix her up with a man who could calm her down
for years but so far, no-one had been good enough for her. So her
look of greedy lust seemed promising as I turned to look at who had
caught her attention.

At once, I saw it was a no-hope. Hell would
freeze over before Caressa dug her pink glittery talons into the
prime beauty who had just entered the bar. He was even more
stunning than I remembered, his hair mussed up as if he had slept
in it, a bemused expression on his face.

But what in the hell of holy fuck was he
wearing?

I hadn't expected him to stroll in, looking
like a cowboy porn star. The check shirt was open to reveal pale
skin barely smattered with silky dark hair and those tight blue
jeans hugged his pert backside perfectly. Even the hat looked cute,
with his brooding dark eyes and sexy tortoise-shell spectacles. I
was sprung, and would be all night.

'That's Rob Martyn, and he's mine, Caressa.'
I fixed the tall queen with a look. She quailed sarcastically.

'Ooooh, okay, hot shot. I get the picture.
He's pretty, though. Very, very pretty. Let's hope he doesn't have
European teeth,' Caressa murmured bitchily. I did not deign to
reply.

Rob was being given a rough ride by the usual
crowd, sizing him up, leering at his divine ass in those tight
jeans. He just lifted his chin and walked determinedly up to the
bar. When he asked politely for a beer, I heard Caressa spurt her
cocktail back into her glass.

'Rescue him, Lex. You're being cruel.'

'I just want to see what he does.'

I watched Rob perch on a stool and look
around. He was checking out the crowd, his self-consciousness
giving him away. From the left, I also saw a butch homo begin
moving in. It was time to stake my claim.

'Rob!' I raised my hand. Rob saw me and his
smile made my heart flip over. I had a moment of uncharacteristic
hesitation as he walked towards me. Should I kiss him hard on the
lips, like I so desperately wanted to do? Would that be too much?
Would a hug be enough or too lame?

He was in front of me, his eyes shining, yet
he seemed as awkward as I felt. Caressa was watching us
closely.

'Well, for God's sake do something,' she said
finally, as we stood staring at each other.

Laughing, we stepped forward at the same time
and hugged tightly. I didn't go for the kiss, sensing he was still
self-conscious, but he didn't move away when I kept my arm around
his waist.

'I was told I had to dress like this,' he
said ruefully.

'You look fabulous, darling,' Caressa said.
'I'm so happy to finally meet you! Lex has told me so much.'

I could see Rob computing what he saw before
him. The beautiful, square-jawed, perfectly made-up face, coiffed
blonde hair, the husky voice, the slight bulge of an Adam's apple,
and the fact that Caressa was over six foot tall. Immediately he
held out his hand for Caressa to shake it.

Caressa looked at the proffered hand, aghast.
I thought that any headway Rob might have made with my difficult
friend, he had just bombed it.

But then he took Caressa's hand and lifted it
to his lips, sending her all aflutter.

'Ooh, he's so proper! Bless you, sweetheart.
Maybe you can teach our brutish friend here a few manners.' She
shot an evil look at me.

'I don't know. I'm sure there's nothing I
could teach Lex that he doesn't already know,' Rob said, smiling at
me. Again, my heart did that little dipsy-doodle thing in my chest.
I was glad of the darkness of the bar, concealing my erection. It
was not going to subside with him standing right in front of me,
looking like a homo's wet dream. He smelled fresh from the shower
but the warmth of the bar was bringing out his natural, earthy
scent. I leaned closer and flared my nostrils as I would with a
glass of expensive red. It was too indistinct to catch. I wanted
him to work up a sweat so I could get to the real man underneath
the soap.

After a couple of hours Caressa tossed back
the remainder of her bourbon and kissed us both on the cheek.

'Time for my curtain call. I'll see you on
stage.'

'She's a blues singer in her spare time,' I
explained to Rob. I steered him away from the crowd and found a
seat with room for two people only. Until then we had been
surrounded by the Blue Bayou's usual crowd of reprobates and aging
queens, all of whom wanted to know more about him. So far he had
answered their questions with bemused politeness. I could tell he
had never experienced such people before but I was ready to have
him to myself. I draped my arm around his shoulders as we sat down
and held him close.

'You're looking great,' I said, smiling at
him.

'So are you.' He felt slightly tense in my
arms. It seemed I had my work cut out to get back to the easy
sensuality we had shared back in England. I placed my finger under
his chin and tilted his head to look at me. His lips were soft and
slightly parted, so I hazarded a light kiss to break the ice.

He melted against me, almost as if he had
been waiting for me to kiss him. In the dark our kisses deepened
and became hotter. His fingers brushed against my cheek, his body
pushing against mine. Any residual ice was crushed as we let our
hands and tongues rove at will. We only came up for air when a
cheer broke out. A spotlight had appeared on a small stage,
revealing Caressa in a red basque, long satin skirt split to the
thigh, and tall cowboy boots, a rhinestone Stetson dipped over one
eye.

Watching Caressa never got old for me. Her
classical education had finally paid off. At Oxford she had studied
music, and had performed in almost every club whilst she was
studying. Her parents didn't see the progression of her musical
career in quite the same way I did, though, and disowned her. That
and the loss of her life long love, Gavin, had imbued her
performance with a sense of melancholy which only enhanced her
stunning voice.

Rob was entranced. I lifted his legs over
mine so he was half sitting on my lap, and held him in my arms as
we watched Caressa. At the end of "At Last," I stuck my fingers in
my mouth and whistled, heartened by her returning grin. I wished I
could find her someone to love. She was my closest friend and I
adored her.

When the show ended, she appeared, still
dressed in her stage costume, and grasped my arm. 'If I don't get
some food RIGHT NOW, I'm going to pass out.' She tucked her other
arm under Rob's. 'Come on, darling, we're going to Chinatown. I
need noodles.'