Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Ralph: Breaking free - 11. Photographing and being photographed
Morrie was positively vibrating with energy and excitement, again. Ralph had driven over late Monday, ostensibly for a catchup on the website, as new pages and new product lines were being added. Also, there had been teething problems with the online shop, and Ralph feared he would have to do some soothing of client ego.
Not a bit.
Morrie brushed off the online problems, which was entirely a-typical of him, he didn’t usually just leave things to the experts. Then he hurried over the new sections, agreeing to everything without a single quibble. Finally, he produced his news. He had had a working lunch with Russ Kahn at the man’s office. This was evidently atop a tower at the West side of the business park, which made for great views.
The food had been good (no alcohol though), the business discussion even better. Russ Kahn had been intrigued by Morrie’s product line. He held regular parties for business associates, evidently these were lively. Ralph had heard talk, both from Morrie and elsewhere but didn’t believe the rumours. However, Morrie was all eagerness, for a long time he had been angling to be invited.
Now it was happening. On Saturday, and the waiters were going to be wearing Morrie’s product line, well product lines.
“Wait a second. You mean your thongs and ‘barely there’ swimming gear.”
Morrie gave a beaming smile, “Precisely”.
“Isn’t that a bit”, Ralph considered, “near the knuckle?”
Morrie laughed, “His last party had real strippers, men, waiters in nothing but tight shorts and beefy security men in jock straps.”
Ralph exploded into his coffee. Morrie had offered beer, but it seemed to early on a Monday for that.
“How the hell do you do security in a jock strap?”
“No idea, but I bet they looked good.”
“So, this time…”
“Something similar. No strippers though.”
“But waiters in thongs and barely there…” Ralph shook his head.
Morrie smiled, “It’ll be a great showcase, get our name around.”
“If you say so.
“I was wondering…” Ralph’s brow wrinkled, what was Morrie cooking up. “Can you handle a camera?”
Ralph shrugged, “Yeah, well enough.”
“No. I mean to produce stuff good enough for the website.”
“Well, as long as it’s clear they’re live and not studio. Why?”
“You could come with me and take photos. You’d have to leave the camera, and their tech guy would check you’d not photographed any of the punters.”
“Christ. What sort of party is this?”
“A business one. But men only and well”, Morrie went a bit pink, “they can be quite lively.”
“As in…”
“Guys disappearing off for a quickie with one of the entertainers.”
“Christ, do I want to be there?”
“It’s just they’re a bit antsy about photos and extra personnel. I’m having problems enough getting them to agree to having India there to style the models.”
“Waiters.”
Morrie shrugged, “Whatever”. India was someone I’d never met, but knew Morrie used them to help style shoots and that. “I think as my business associate, it looks better.”
“OK. And Russ Kahn has a tech guy?”
“No. Ares, the security people do. Normally Ares send a couple of their managers to Russ Kahn’s events, and they’d sort it out there and then.”
“But…”
“The two blokes who manage things are getting married so will be otherwise engaged.”
“Married? As in a double wedding or what?”
Morrie laughed, “No! To each other.”
Ralph raised an eyebrow, “Is Ares a gay outfit, then?”
“Not as far as I know. Still, you’ve got to admire an outfit that sends its managers out with the grunts.”
“In jock straps.”
“Evidently”, Morrie smiled, “that’s what happened last time.”
Ralph wanted to say no, but what was there to lose. This was business, wasn’t it?
After chatting to Nolan on Sunday after Ralph had calmed down; they’d knocked around ideas, keeping things low key, ignoring his parents, or being a bit more open. Facing up to the monster.
Ivor, that afternoon, had made a similar comment. Whilst admitting he knew nothing about coming out, he did however have experience of parental problems and had often gone the other way and made a grand gesture. Then Ivor had peered at Ralph and admitted that he hadn’t the slighted idea what Ralph’s grand gesture might be.
“You Ok?” Morrie was peering at him.
“Sorry”, Ralph gave an abashed grin, “was thinking. Parents are interfering in my life again, so I thought I needed to make a break for freedom. Count me in.”
“Great.”
Next day, Beth was delighted. She had been contemplating different approaches to promoting Morrie’s site and the local link to them was a good one. Then she turned a winning smile on Ralph, so he knew she wanted something.
“I overheard Ivor saying about the grand gesture. I was thinking how about that photo shoot Morrie wants. How about you doing it?”
“Me!”
She grinned, “And Ivor, he’s willing to take one for the firm if you are. And I wondered…”
“What?” Ralph’s brain was spinning. Was he in the closet, slipping a toe out or cannoning out?
“Would Nolan do it as well? He’s a client and a friend of yours.”
The panic was still there, but the ‘fuck them’ excitement too. He’d felt it the moment he’d first kissed Gordon behind the sports block. He’d not felt it much since. A bit when he turned his back on his parents’ ideas for his career, perhaps.
Now was the time, wasn’t it?
Before he chickened out, he agreed, much to Beth’s delight and Ivor’s disgust; the man had never believed that Ralph would agree. Ralph emailed Morrie and checked with Ivor again, just in case. Ivor was gloomily acquiescent, commenting that it was Ok for Beth, she wasn’t a bloke.
---
Ralph phoned Therese that evening.
>Hi. A problem?
“I have a work thing on Saturday and wondered if you’d have the twins?”
>This Saturday? Christ, Ralph, a bit of notice would have been nice.
“Short notice, but a client, the guy who owns Iverson’s, has just found out his wares are being modelled at a private event.”
>Wares? You mean the posing pouches and that.
“Yes. It’s a business event, for men, and there’ll be a sort of fashion show.”
>With lots of tongues hanging out.
Ralph could hear her amusement, “I expect so.”
>Where do you come in?
“Taking photos for the website.”
>Nice. ‘WebIdeal’ gets credit for the photos too, and you’re seen at this exclusive event.
Her tone had turned sharp.
>It is exclusive, isn’t it?
“Very. I understand. Security done by Ares, the lot.
>Mmm. They are very boutique. And very expensive. Who is it?
“Russ Kahn.”
>My, my, in with the fancy world.
She paused.
>The fancy gay crowd.
“I know. I was going to stay under the radar but…”
>This isn’t staying under the radar, Ralph, not even close. More like bloody broadcasting loud and clear.
“Well, if it’s a problem.”
She sighed.
>Don’t be play the martyr, either. I’ve said I’ll live with it, and I will. As long as you’re not planning on bringing the work home, then I’ll take the girls. Leave you to enjoy the sights.
She gave a dirty laugh.
>You take them to football on Saturday and I’ll collect them, at least I’ll get some lie in.
“Yes. And you’ll return them on Sunday.”
>Damn right. I have plans for Sunday.
“Indeed?
> Just a walk and tea. Don’t get your hopes up. Saturday, I might do a tea for some of the twins’ friends. By the way, have you been talking to them about their birthday?
“But that’s not till February. Christ, let me get Christmas over with, first.”
> They’re already on about their party. You’ve not talked to them?
“Not a bit. What is it?”
>The adventure centre, an action party. Bloody hell, Ralph. As if.
“Not my idea, Therese, not at all.”
>It’s not going to go away, is it?
“Sorry. I don’t think it is. But what about Eloise and their other friends?”
>I am assured that Eloise has an action side, too.
“You’re doing tea parties as a sort of counterweight?”
They laughed.
>Too damn right.
“See you Saturday.”
- 13
- 19
- 1
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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