The Gay Blade

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

Paris Clayton was born to hustle. He had dark, wavy hair, a swarthy complexion, and little-boy dimples. Since he was an actor, he kept his teeth perfect. They sparkled when he smiled, and he smiled a lot—in case someone was watching—someone in the entertainment world. He had walked the streets of Jersey City for almost eighteen years and then decided if he wanted to be in show business, he had to go where it was all happening—New York. The city was hoppin’, and it was only his first stop. He had plans to go from here to Hollywood, so he threw everything he had into one bag and thumbed his way to New York. It was a whole new world to him. He scoured Variety for acting jobs and got a few. He learned quickly that it wasn’t always a good performance that got him the job. Often his auditions began and ended in some producer’s bed. It got him started in a world where he had to be tough or turn around and go home. He was a phone actor at present, but he had hopes and dreams the size of a mountain. Tonight he had plans and asked to get off early.

“I want to visit a sick friend.”

Shayde smiled. “Paris, surely you can think up a better excuse than that.”

“All right, I’ve got a heavy date, an interview, an acting class. What’ll it take to get out of here for a few hours?”

“If you leave, we might lose all our female customers,” Shayde said teasingly.

“What is this? A compliment from the hottest woman this side of the Mason-Dixon Line?”

“All right, you little charmer, but you be here early tomorrow night, and no more time off until you make up the hours you missed. Got it?”

“Sure,” he said and gave her a wink and a smile as he threw his jacket over his shoulder and walked out.

* * * *

Grant had just dropped off Shayde’s tickets to the Broadway play Spider-Man when he saw Paris walking out, his young strut arrogant and conceited. Slipping into a shadow, he watched him for a moment, and then followed him into the darkness of the night. He’d managed to follow him for a couple of blocks when he began questioning his actions. Had his desire for this guy reduced him to stalking? Just then he saw him stop beneath a street lamp and light a cigarette.

After pulling in a lung full of smoke, Paris said, “So how long are you going to follow me?”

Grant realized Paris was talking to him, and said, “How did you know I was here?”

“I ain’t no fool, Grant,” he said as he turned and looked at him. “I’ve been taking care of myself since I was five, and I probably know what you had for breakfast this morning. What the hell is this? Did Shayde send you…?” His words stopped when he saw Grant’s evening clothes. “What the hell are you wearing? You look like you stepped out of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.”

“I ran an errand for Shayde. I left my blue jeans at home.”

Paris chuckled. “I doubt you even own a pair.”

“So, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the club working?”

“Shayde gave me the night off. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”

When Paris turned to leave, Grant called out to him. “I wish you wouldn’t go.”

Paris turned around, and Grant stared. Even in the seductive nighttime shadows he could see that Paris’s lips were wickedly kissable. Their sexy shape made Grant lick his lips in anticipation when he imagined kissing them. Grant could feel a coil of lust snaking its way up into his belly when his gaze lowered to Paris’s perfect body.