Men of London 05 - Cross to Bare (11 page)

Chaos. Complete, unmitigated chaos
.

Around him he watched squabbling fashion models in various eye-popping stages of undress; tits, dicks and bits wobbling everywhere he looked. Shrill jibes, soft exclamations and resigned entreaties flavoured the air in a symphony of discordant music.

The bottom floor of the Debussy offices was a hub of beautiful, mostly naked flesh, frazzled employees, screaming queens, screeching divas and every now and then the voice of reason from a large, calm individual whom Brook only knew as Dasher. There was also the slim, rather hyperactive figure of the man Brook had met in Laverne’s office the day of Brook’s abortive visit.

Leslie Scott looked like a fashion model himself with those deep blue eyes and elegant frame, all draped in a classic, grey suit with a bright red tie. The man standing next to him looking like he’d stepped out of
G
Q magazine was watching him with laughing eyes and a swathe of blond hair that fell over his handsome face. Brook imagined that was Oliver, Leslie’s boyfriend and the infamous adult entertainer, Nicky Starr. Lenny had mentioned them both fondly in conversation.

Oliver’s eyes narrowed when a man approached Leslie with a cheeky grin and enveloped him in a hug fit enough to smother the smaller man while copping a feel of Leslie’s admittedly pert arse. The man was dark-haired with a goatee, sparkling brown eyes and well-built with an easy smile. Leslie had called him Maxwell. Oliver watched the easy interchange of the pair, but Brook thought in amusement if Maxwell had got much
more
familiar with the laughing, admittedly sexy Leslie, he might be missing a few teeth by the end of the night.

He sighed heavily. Fashion shows weren’t something he went to regularly, but for Lenny and of course, Laverne, he’d made the effort so he could see his lover in action. It was about time he observed Laverne Debussy-Smith in her native environment. He couldn’t put it off much longer if he wanted to be with Lenny. And he
did
want to be with Lenny.

He smiled as Leslie bustled over to him, dragging his boyfriend behind him, followed by Maxwell. Oliver wore both a look of resignation and amusement at his hyperactive partner’s antics.

“Brook,” Leslie exclaimed as he came in for a hug, nearly knocking Brook off his feet. The man certainly didn’t have any PDA issues. “How wonderful you’re here. Laverne will be so pleased.” His eyes twinkled, but behind them Brook sensed a warning not to fuck things up tonight for her in any way. “This is my boyfriend, Oliver.” He bounced excitedly and cast an adoring look at his partner. “And this is Oliver’s friend, Maxwell. He’s flown in from New York and he’s on a stay over. Max is a flight attendant. He flies all over the world, the lucky bitch.”

Brook grinned and hugged Leslie. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it. It’ll give me a chance to see the lady herself in action.” He extricated himself to shake hands with Oliver.

“Brook.” Oliver nodded. “Good to meet you at last. He’s told me a bit about you but it’s good to meet the man behind the gossip.” He grinned widely and cast an affectionate look at Leslie.

Leslie sniffed regally. “Uh-uh, I am not a gossipmonger, baby. I love a bit of idle chat.”

Brook laughed as he shook Maxwell’s hand, noticing the sly, slow brush of Maxwell’s thumb over his palm and the swift glance at his crotch.

Hmm, this man is a definite player
.
He’s cute, but he’s not Lenny.

“Nice to meet you too, Maxwell.” Brook released the hand that was holding his a little too long and grinned. “It must be an interesting job, flying all over the world?”

Maxwell shrugged. For the first time Brook noticed dark shadows under Maxwell’s eyes. “It’s a lot of fun. You get to meet people and see the world and fuck a guy in every port, so I guess people would think it was a cool job.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes and Brook thought his words, probably meant to shock, had sounded a little contrived. From the quick, concerned glance Oliver threw his friend, he seemed to think so too.

“Maxwell is staying with me for a few days,” Oliver said softly. “He’s been a little unwell. He picked up some bug in one of those ports although he’s over it now. Someone needed to make sure he eats properly and rests a bit more.” He reached out an arm and gently punched his friend in the solar plexus in a mock boxing move.

“Yeah, I wasn’t really in the mood to come tonight, but Leslie insisted.” Maxwell threw a fond yet exasperated look at Leslie who stuck his pointy tongue out at him. “And we all know Leslie gets what he wants.”

Brook chuckled. “I’m beginning to get that impression, yes. Lenny says much the same thing.”

Leslie smiled wickedly then his eyes narrowed. “You look a little overwhelmed, Brook.” He chucked Brook softly on his shoulder. “Laverne is an absolute darling. We all love her so much. She rocks this place.” He cast a jaundiced eye around the heaving room. “Although I’m not sure having this event here was such a good idea. Transforming the lobby into a dressing room and having a catwalk event in Brilliantine’s boardroom might not have been the best idea anyone’s ever had.” He made a pout of dissatisfaction.

Brook was heartened by the fact that everyone seemed so at ease referring to his lover as a woman. “Brilliantine is the business on the first floor, the fake fur traders? The company with that huge, fancy boardroom that takes up a whole floor and the fake waterfall in the corner?” He’d heard all about it from Lenny when he was excitedly planning the event. It was a small but substantially attended private event, and one where the audience was carefully selected for best effect by the canny CEO of Brilliantine.

“Yep. Ostentatious much?” Leslie frowned. “This is a charity event for sick kids from Great Ormond Street and apparently one of the Brilliantine directors is on the board or something. She really wanted to use the boardroom for the event and show it off.” He rolled his eyes. “But this lot,” he waved at the frantic activity all around them, “are really
so
not appreciative of that. All I’ve heard is, ‘This place sucks,’ ‘Where’s my latte, I ordered it, like, minus ten seconds ago,’ and ‘Darling, you need to really clip that bush of yours, it looks like a hen’s nest.’” He shuddered. “I’m not good with the whole lady-bits part.”

Oliver chuckled loudly beside him. “You’re good with the man bits, love, and that’s all that matters.” He cast an enquiring look in Brook’s direction. “So, you’re seeing Laverne here for the first time since that meeting, then? I guess that could be a bit daunting if you’re not used to it. But you’ll be fine, I’m sure. Think of it like anyone else who dresses up differently for the day job. A clown wears their outfit, a go-go boy wears his, and we retired porn stars take it all off and hang loose. It’s another side of you, but it doesn’t mean it’s who you are.”

Brook nodded. “I do understand. It’s a bit weird being with a man, then seeing him dress up as Laverne for work in the morning.” He grinned.

He was already worried about a future weekend they’d planned. Lenny had badgered him into going to his best friend Ryan’s club in Soho. Brook had heard of it; Club Delish was one of the trendiest clubs in the city. Brook hadn’t watched a live drag show before but Lenny had assured him with a wicked grin that he was in for a treat.

Oliver flashed a warm smile. “I’m sure you’ll get it right. Lenny is really into you, and as long you both feel the same, you’ll get there.”

“Oliver’s so wise,” Leslie said adoringly. Maxwell snorted in amusement and rolled his eyes. Oliver smiled back at Leslie, and Brook wanted a man to look at
him
the way Oliver looked at his fiery boyfriend. He supposed he might have seen a fleeting glimpse of something like it on Lenny’s face once or twice, but it had been gone in an instant. Almost as if he’d been fighting it back. Brook thought wryly that Lenny had probably seen him do the same thing. He wasn’t sure what this thing was they had going on other than the fantastic sex, but one day soon he hoped to have it figured out.

He caught a glimpse of yearning on Maxwell’s face but as quickly as it flashed up, it was gone, and Brook wondered if he’d mistaken it.

Maxwell stared at him evenly then grinned widely. “They’re dreadful together, aren’t they? So damn lovey-dovey.” He made a wicked but disgusting gesture with his hand. “Ollie and I used to be fuck buddies but there’s no room for me now he has this one.” Maxwell waved at Leslie and sighed heavily. “He won’t even let me do a threesome. That’s how serious he is about being monogamous.”

Leslie’s eyes widened in uncertainty as he bit his lip and looked at his boyfriend.

Oliver scowled. “Max, that’s enough. The whole fucking world doesn’t need to know our personal business. Besides, I thought you
had
someone special?” He cocked his head as Maxwell’s brow furrowed. “Is there some trouble in paradise then?”

Maxwell didn’t reply but he looked uncomfortable. Oliver carried on. “Now behave or I’ll have to send you to your room without supper.” His tone was light but Brook and no doubt everyone else present couldn’t mistake the tinge of a threat beneath it. Oliver took hold of Leslie’s hand and ran his thumb across the top, smiling at him.

“Sorry, my bad.” Maxwell affected an air of insouciance as he looked around the room, but Brook saw the swallow and a look of sadness in his eyes. He wondered what the man’s story was. Maxwell was a man who looked as if he had one.

They were interrupted by a loud screech from the other side of the foyer and they all turned to see two people, one man, one woman, fighting over a hair piece. Brook stared wide-eyed as the unfortunate feathered tiara was tugged and pulled to and fro, small pieces of feather drifting to the floor in the scurry. From the outskirts of the room a large, placid-looking man moved through the crowd like an ice breaker, and beside Brook, Leslie giggled.

“I wouldn’t want Dasher’s job for all the money in the world. I don’t how he does it. He says it’s like having kids again, and he should know. He has five.”

Brook blinked. “Five? Hell, that’s a lot of mouths to feed.”

Leslie shrugged. “Most of them are out of the house but he does have this one adorable twelve-year-old daughter who’s absolutely precious. He brings her to work sometimes and we play dress-up when Laverne’s not looking.” He shot an
It’s our secret
look at Brook. “Please don’t tell her that. She’ll have my arse paddled for using her stuff and taking time out when I’m supposed to be working.”

Oliver snorted. “The only paddling that cute arse of yours will ever get be from me.” He leered at Leslie whose face pinked up. Once again Maxwell rolled his eyes and threw a
See, what did I tell you?
glance at Brook.

Brook laughed. “I promise to keep mum about it, honest. Sounds like fun.”

Leslie nodded with a happy smile. “Oh yeah, I love it. I get to wear all sorts of stuff. Even makeup.”

Beside him, Oliver shook his head in amused frustration. “He’s still a kid,” he explained to Brook. “My man is Peter Pan, I swear.”

There was a deep, familiar laugh at Brook’s elbow. He turned to see the eyes of his lover observing him from long lashes lightly flecked with mascara. Brook was fascinated by the sight, but also a little uncomfortable. And there was no mistaking the uncertainty in those aqua eyes, as they searched his anxiously. His boyfriend was as nervous as he was at this encounter.

“That’s a very apt description of this minx.” Laverne smiled, lips rimmed with pale pink lipstick. “Chickens, the show will be starting in about fifteen minutes, so if you want good seats, I’d suggest you get upstairs before the stampede.”

Brook cleared his throat and his eyes darted nervously down Laverne’s body.

Laverne wore a classically styled dress, bottle green and form fitting, with a tight bodice, nipped waistline and flowing Grecian pleats to the floor. She wore one-inch high peep-toe shoes of shimmering silver. Brook’s eyes were hypnotically drawn to the bulge of two breasts over her chest. He swallowed and lifted his eyes to meet hers.

“You look really lovely,” Brook said awkwardly. “That colour suits you.”

“Thanks,” she said softly. She glanced out across the crowd then her eyes narrowed. “Prick,” she said softly.

Brook turned to look in the direction she was and noticed a thin, brightly dressed man with a spume of red and yellow hair on the top of his head standing beside a rather portly matron dressed in what looked like a gaudy type of plaid frock.

Brook looked at Laverne. “Who’s a prick? The guy with the parrot crest?”

Laverne nodded. “Yes. His name is Tracy Trey. He’s been shooting his mouth off about his new suit designs, which are terrible by the way, and just generally giving the industry a bad name because he’s so full of himself.”

Leslie butted in. “Laverne, I remember now what I wanted to talk about today in the office when I forgot.”

Laverne smiled at him. “You spotted a new shirt design on my desk and its brilliance made you forget what you came to see me about. I remember.”

Leslie nodded. “I noticed you were still throwing your old drafts into your bin,” he scolded. “I thought we agreed you were to going to get rid of them securely?”

Laverne opened her mouth to reply but Leslie was on a roll. “And I saw a suit cuff the other day with something that looked remarkably like a copycat of that design you showed me the other day. The one you wanted to experiment with.” He whispered conspiratorially. “On one of Tracy Trey’s suit jackets.” There was a stunned silence. Brook wasn’t sure what was expected so he waited. He didn’t have long before Leslie was off again.

“It was at a closed showing of his. I managed to get into it because the organiser loves me. Duffy lets me sit in as long as I gave him fruit candies and promised him—” his voice tailed off as he became distracted at the sight of a famous drag queen walking past. She smiled at him.

“Oh—my—God—Kiki Kittens, I love her,” he gushed, gazing after the woman in adoration.

“Promised him
what
exactly, Leslie?” Oliver’s dangerous voice brought Leslie back to the real world. Brook stared in amusement at Leslie’s boyfriend, wondering how the hell he coped with him. Max gave a long-suffering sigh then started biting his nails.