Let There be Love - 1. Part I

“Hey, Angie, welcome back. How was winter break in Savannah? Any hot men?” My best friend at Brooklyn School of Law had come downstairs to help me carry luggage up to my room. We’re second-year students, each with an apartment at Feil Hall, and my parents had just dropped me off in front of the school’s main residential facility.

“Bitch, stop calling me that. My name’s not Angie!”

“It is too!” It had been an ongoing battle since we first met last year. I thought it was cool we could both use the same nickname and loved seeing people’s expressions when I introduced us as the Angies. Apparently, my humor was not appreciated.

“You’re such a pain in the ass, Angela. Anyway, Christmas wasn’t bad, mostly family stuff and seeing old friends. One of the Butler cousins came over from Columbia for a couple of days. His looks are definitely wasted in South Carolina; that man would be a hit here in New York. The typical family square jaw and reddish hair; the Scottish heritage definitely showed up in him. He’s a football player, so he has a rocking body with shoulders out to here”—Angus spread his arms about a yard apart—“and a butt you could bounce quarters off. I may have entertained incestual fantasies.

“The best part about the break was the weather; it sucks here. We had a few chilly days in Georgia, but the snow and the freezing temperatures were a shock when I got to LaGuardia.”

“Was the cousin any good? And I agree about the weather―we should have gone to law school in Florida.” As he pushed the luggage cart towards the elevator, I removed the gloves, scarf, and hat I was wearing. January had us in a deep freeze, and the beginning of the second half of the school year had arrived way too early; it was not really welcome. Bad enough there was going to be a lot of work; the crappy weather would be keeping us inside for a while even when we weren’t studying.

“Wouldn’t know, babe. He’s a senior in high school, and I’m not into changing diapers. At least not until I have a kid of my own.”

“I hear ya. What about New Year’s Eve? I’m sure you went out away from the rents.”

“Hell yeah! Went out with some friends, caught the Lady Chablis show, swapped some serious spit with this hunky frat boy from the University of Georgia, and we spent the night together.”

The Lady Chablis, made famous in the book Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, was a legend amongst drag queens. Her show was a must-see while in Savannah, even twenty years after the book had been published. It had been a hoot to watch her perform the previous summer when I spent a week visiting.

“Details, details!”

“Hell no! You know better than to ask. I don’t kiss and tell. What about you? How was your time off?”

“Same as always with a large Italian family. If I had heard one more relative tell me I was too skinny and needed to eat more, I would have exploded. No wonder all the damn men in our family cheat. The women think having a baby gives them permission to turn into lactating cows!” Why couldn’t my aunts understand when my brothers and I limited ourselves to one serving of lasagna? Talk about a generation gap.

“Ouch! A little harsh.”

“If the milking machine fits… at least New Year’s Eve was a blast. We rounded up a bunch of friends and cousins, came into the city, and welcomed 2015 at Prime in Chelsea. Even though most of the men were gay, the eye candy was enough to make us straight girls have to squeeze our legs together.”

“Sounds like my kind of place. We’ll have to hit it on a Friday before school gets crazy.”

“You got it, stud.” Angus being gay was a shame; he’s a hot man. A slightly older version of the cousin he described; tall, with grapefruit-sized biceps and a perfectly defined smooth chest with small, perky nipples. A sharply-defined Adam’s apple, a prominent masculine nose, ears that stuck out a bit, and a smile good enough for a Colgate commercial made him a babe. The man was yummy!

“Mario, is that everything?” My new friend surprised the hell out of me when, two weeks after meeting, he suggested we share the Brooklyn co-op his brother Tony was vacating. We first met while putting up Christmas decorations at the Chelsea loft where said brother now lives with his boyfriend. It was a nice little gig putting a few coins in my pockets. Mario and I hit it off and quickly established a friendship.

The guy’s a good-looking, athletic, red-blooded heterosexual from a large Italian family. His older brother is obviously gay, but he’s one of the most masculine men I’ve ever met. There go the fucking stereotypes right out the window. My new apartment mate’s not very bulky, but he has a sharply defined chest and abdomen with a near-perfect pattern of dark hair on his pecs; he attracts looks from both men and women at the gym. His smile could melt hearts and the cleft in his chin, visible when he’s clean-shaven, adds another touch of masculinity to his appearance. As I said, one hundred percent heterosexual, and that is just fine with me. He’s a good friend, period.

“For now, it is. Let’s get these last two boxes into the apartment and open a couple of beers. It’s freezing out here, but I’m sweating from all the exercise.”

“Not sure I want a beer. It’s too damn cold for that. How about some hot apple cider with a shot or two?” Two weeks into 2015 and the temperature had not climbed above the freezing mark so far. The place we were moving into was a far cry from the cramped Manhattan one-bedroom I’d been sharing with a co-worker. I swear I’ll never again live with a gay man; all the fucking drama can drive anyone crazy. I might not be as butch as Tony or his partner, Colt, but how much Lady Gaga or Madonna can anyone listen to?

“That works for me; you’re the culinary expert, after all. I’m gonna love living with a graduate of the Florida International University School of Hospitality in Miami and the Institute of Culinary Education here in New York. There’s going to be some great food in this place.”

“Yeah, if I can find the time to cook for us. But I promise at least a couple of good meals a week. Have I told you yet how much I appreciate you and your brother allowing me to move in here with you?” Not only was the change in living companion welcome, but the new place was sick! It’s got two bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, a nice living room and a large kitchen and dining area. And the price was the steal of the century. Tony owned the place outright and was letting us live there without charging us rent; we’d only pay the building fees and the utilities.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… like maybe a million times already? Bud, I think it was perfect timing, and I think you and I are going to do real well sharing the living space. Just remember Tony’s the gay brother, so control yourself and don’t go trying to lure any other relatives into bed!”

“Hey, babe, sorry I missed the meeting with the architect and the designer. That stupid manager has caused me nothing but headaches this week.” It was cold outside, but thankfully there was no snow at the moment. Most of what accumulated the previous week had already melted or was piled to the sides in mounds of dirty, frozen slush. Walking the few blocks between the bar and home still left me chilled; I was happy Colt had a fire going for added warmth in the apartment.

“Give me your coat and take off the boots, Tony; I think you need a hug and a drink before dinner. Want to tell me about it while I fix us a couple of martinis?”

“Not much to tell. He was caught with his hand in the till and is now booked for theft. Remember I told you a couple of weeks ago the take was somewhat light compared to how busy the bar was that Friday?” One of the managers got greedy and decided his salary was not enough. Prime was incredibly successful, and our revenue and profit margin were well above industry standards. Employee wages were higher than the going rate, and their benefits package was unheard of in the industry. I believe in sharing the wealth and rewarding those that help me make money.

“Yeah, you said something about calling your uncle for help.”

“I did. He contacted a friend at Gallant Security. They came over, set up some surveillance equipment, and over the past few days, the idiot was recorded failing to ring orders and sticking cash in his pockets. We’re still checking for an exact amount, but the fucker was also fiddling with purchasing and slipping in fictitious invoices. When he showed up today, he was met by my uncle, a representative of the security company, and a couple of New York’s finest. He denied everything but finally clammed up when shown the video. The cops took him away and promised to let me know if they found any of the money when they searched the guy’s place.”

I make sure we provide the beat cops a place to rest, get warm in winter, and to cool off during the heat of summer. If we ever open the damn restaurant I want next door, we’ll give them free food as well. Prime contributes to the Police Benevolent Association, even though it is one of the worst-run charities in the country, and we support any events sponsored by the local precinct. It’s always good to have the boys in blue on our side.

“And how much did your uncle’s associates find before the police were able to get a search warrant?”

“What do you mean?” I tried to play dumb but realized Colt could see right through me. The raised eyebrow and the smirk on his face told me he was okay with whatever my family had done. It was hard to stop myself from smiling.

“Tony, don’t play dumb… I’ve met Don Martellini, remember?”

“Fifty-two thousand dollars and change?” I mumbled while looking down at my feet and picking imaginary lint off my sweater. By then, there was no way to hide my smile.

“WHAT? Fuckin’ A! Now I don’t have to worry about how to pay for furniture in the two new guestrooms!”

“You’re such an ass, Colton Mann. Here I am, sweating buckets on how to tell you about having cash to hide, and you’ve already spent it.”

“Not all of it, babe, not all of it. But give me a day or two, and I’ll do my best.”

“Are those the drawings? Did he follow what we explained we wanted?” Colt’s loft was mostly open space, and we liked it that way, but with two of us living here now and the likelihood of frequent house guests, we needed to make some changes.

“Yep. The area behind the kitchen, which is usually hidden behind the dividing curtains, will end up with two bedrooms, a large bathroom in between, and an open entertainment area. The kitchen will remain where it is, and the suite will surround the windows facing Eighth Avenue. All interior partitions, except the bathrooms, will use overhead, garage-style doors with glass inserts. Curtains on the inside will provide privacy and some soundproofing when we have guests. When we’re alone, the curtains can be pulled back, the door walls raised, and aside from some columns, the loft will retain its open feel.”

“Where are we hanging the sling?”

Kærlighed: “Hey sweetie, welcome to New York City.”

Upendo: “Fuck you, mon. Dis fucking place always dis fucking cold?”

Kærlighed: “Well, nice to meet you too, cupcake. Only in winter. I gather you’re not used to the chilly weather?”

Upendo: “No, mon, been in Kingston for de last five years, nice ‘n’ warm dere.”

Kærlighed: “Oh yeah, this will be different. You get four seasons and a bunch more people.”

Upendo: “You got weird name, mon. That be German?

Kærlighed: “Close, it’s Danish. What about yours?

Upendo: “Swahili. I hate moves right ‘fore Valentine’s Day. Busy, busy, busy.”

Kærlighed: “I think we’ll have fun this year; we’ll be working at New York’s most popular gay bar on the fourteenth.”

Upendo: “Oh fuck me, mon! A gay bar, and we be wearin’ a nappy and little wings?”

Kærlighed: “Don’t worry, they’ll be drunk and won’t even notice us.”

Upendo: “I hope so, mon, last time I work a gay bar, my butt got pinched all night. Dem fuckers could see me!”

Kærlighed: “It’ll be a breeze. We’ll shoot some arrows into the air, and where they fall, we just won’t care.”

Upendo: “What you mean, mon? We not have to match ’em up?”

Kærlighed: “Nah, only a few; we’ll get a printout with those. The rest will settle for Mr. Right Now if Mr. Right isn’t around.”

Upendo: “Sluts!”

“Come in, door’s unlocked.” Angela’s apartment in Feil Hall was one floor below mine. I was picking her up so we could walk over to the corner deli and get something to eat. The blonde side of beef sitting at her desk took me by surprise and made me stop in my tracks as I opened the door. Hot damn! What a hunk. I’m wearing sweatpants, going commando, and already chubbing up―if I go full boner, I’m in trouble.

“Hey, guy, I want you to meet my new neighbor, Cameron Titus Scott; Cam this is my good friend Angus Rhett Butler. You can call him Angie; we share the nickname. I invited Cam to join us for dinner.”

The blond stud grinned. “Hi… Angie? Rhett Butler?”

“Bitch, you’re so dead.” I shifted my attention from Angela to Cameron. “Hey, nice to meet you, bubba. Please ignore Angela, she was repeatedly dropped on her head as a baby, and her cognitive functions are not entirely normal.” The blonde Adonis stood up, his gray thermal Henley stretched tightly across his chest and upper arms, and extended a hand to shake. His eyes opened wide as he stared back and forth between us. “Please call me Gus, the Angie thing she does to piss me off and shock people. The Rhett Butler part is my Southern roots showing. My parents have a wicked sense of humor.”

“It’s kinda cool actually; nice to meet you, Gus.”

“Careful living next to Angela; she’s trouble with a capital T. I love her to death, but I’m constantly watching my back.” Cam’s smile appeared friendly and welcoming, his eyes sparkled as he looked right at mine and his thick, moist lips curled up in a slight grin. I decided it was time to turn on the Southern charm and do a little flirting. “That’s a cool little scar on your cheekbone. It makes you look dashing and rugged.”

“A souvenir from an auto accident I was involved in when I was fourteen. A semi hit my parents’ car. We all got banged up but somehow survived.”

“Angus, you stop drooling and flirting right this second. Cameron’s straight and has a girlfriend back home in Philadelphia, so you have no chance of getting into his pants. Sorry, Cam. Angus is right; I was being an evil bitch. But people see Mr. Muscles over there, with the square jaw and the bright smile, hear me call him Angie, and the looks we get are priceless.”

“Ah yes, another one of our female friend’s endearing qualities. She’s always happy to out me to new people. Not that I hide the fact I’m gay, but she never gives me a chance to say so myself.” Straight or gay, girlfriend or not, the boy was still mighty fine eye candy. He was definitely being added to the wank bank.

“I also invited Cam to join us on the fourteenth at Prime, but he’s going home to see his girlfriend.”

“I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you, bud.” Lucky bitch. “We’ll get a group together to go out some other time.”

“Let’s go. This girl’s getting hungry. Oh yeah, Cam’s family has a beach house down in Avalon, and he wants to get a bunch of us to go down for Spring Break. It’ll probably be cold, though.”

“That’s cool. I’m in.” Hell could be freezing over, and the stud would still raise my temperature. “It’ll be fun to bundle up, build a fire on the beach and pass a bottle around while we roast marshmallows.”

“I can’t take this anymore! I’m going crazy.” It was the beginning of February, and since moving into my brother’s Brooklyn co-op, my outings had been limited to attending classes at New York University, in Greenwich Village, and sporadic trips to shops or restaurants in the neighborhood.

Troy chuckled. “A little case of cabin fever, Mario?”

“Little nothing, man, this sucks! Between the crappy weather and studying, I’ve not been out to do anything fun since we moved in. Fricking Polar Vortex, climate change crap’s turning us all into hermits.” The only real pleasure I’d enjoyed over the past month was Troy. Asking the man to move in with me was one of my all-time smartest moves. He is pleasant, considerate, a great cook when he has the time, and is almost as much a neat freak as I am. Okay, so he didn’t make his bed every morning, but nobody’s perfect.

“You’re not getting any sympathy from me, bud. I spend most of my time shopping for a shindig or setting up for it. I don’t cook for events as much anymore, but I’m not getting paid any more money for serving as a manager. It’s getting old real quick, and I may need to start looking for another job. I’m no longer happy at Tina’s Catering.”

“Troy, I think we’re both in a rut, and we need to get out and socialize, maybe even get laid. How come you’ve not brought a date over since we moved in?” We had a long conversation about dating and overnight guests when we were first getting settled in. Our agreement was: no nudity when guests were present, call ahead if bringing someone home unexpectedly, ignore any strange noises, and no pecker tracks on the furniture.

“I haven’t had a date since before Thanksgiving, dickhead. And you’re one to talk; I don’t see a parade of tits and ass going through your bedroom door. Face it, we’re an old married couple, and you’re not even my type―too much body hair and way too butch. I prefer my men with a touch less testosterone.”

“Oh fuck, stop. You’re killing me here.” I’d not laughed so hard in ages. During one of our bull sessions, Troy explained he was hairy enough and preferred his men smoother. He also admitted he liked them bigger than him and versatile but willing to let Troy take the lead.

“Dude, my cum rag’s so stiff it just stands up on the nightstand by itself. I love you to death, but I’m sick of you. We need to get out and mingle.”

“Hey, I’ve got it. Since neither one of us is likely to have a date for Valentine’s Day, how about we go to Prime next weekend and have some fun? We can cruise all the meat in the place and hopefully get lucky―you look at your tits of choice, and I’ll look at mine. No competition, and we could even help each other out.” Even though it was frequented primarily by gay men, my brother’s bar in Chelsea was always a fun place. There were usually straight couples, and enough straight girls came in with gay friends or in groups to give us breeders some game to hunt.

“Yeah! That sounds like fun. Count me in. Valentine’s Day means romantic dinners at home or in a restaurant for most people, so we have no events planned for the weekend.”

“If we get too drunk, we can always crash at Colt and Tony’s place.” My brother-in-law’s loft is within walking distance of Prime and WOOF, the gym owned by Colt. Those fuckers have the easiest damn commute in the world, step outside, walk a couple of blocks, and voilà, you’re at work.

“If we do that, maybe we can get a workout in at WOOF on Sunday morning? I’d love to get time in with some free weights; I’m getting tired of the machines downstairs.”

“Great idea! We can take a gym bag with us and leave it at coat check when we get to the bar.” We’d been making do with the small facility in the basement of our building, but I missed all the equipment and amenities at Colt’s place. It would be nice to spend a night and day away from the books for a change.

“Are you sure you’re okay with tending bar on Valentine’s Day?

“Of course I am, Tony. You’re shorthanded, and it’ll be a busy night. if you bartend, I bartend. We’re a team, baby.” Damn right, I’m going to tend bar right next to him―I’m not about to let him work shirtless, at a gay bar, without me there. I trust my man one hundred percent―his patrons, not so much. Any guy starts getting too friendly, I’ll just walk over and stick my tongue down Tony’s throat―gotta mark my territory.

“Great, the gear was delivered today. The bartenders get red jockstraps, red sweatpants with Prime embroidered on the right butt cheek, and a red silk bowtie. Security gets a white t-shirt and a shiny red jacket, and the shift manager will wear one of our white polo shirts instead of the bowtie.”

“I like the jockstrap idea. A nice wide elastic band showing could improve tips, and the jock will provide easy access to your butt for my hand!” Maybe I’ll bring a little Crisco and dip my middle finger in it whenever I get near the boss.

“Colt, you’re such a slutty pig! Speaking of slutty pigs, also known as rugby players, the Gotham Knights team members will sell cherry red Jell-O shots as a fundraiser. They plan on wearing red nylon shorts, no shirts, and red ball caps.”

“They better bring plenty of shots; all that beef parading around half naked will have the boys lining up to buy the damn things.” The Knights were a local gay rugby team Prime was sponsoring during the upcoming season. We’d gone to a couple of their games last fall and had a blast—no wonder the Brits, Kiwis, and Aussies went crazy over the game.

“Oh, Shandy Lier agreed to serve as Mistress of Ceremonies for the Mr. Valentine contest. I think she’ll do a good job.”

“Cool, she’s a riot. I’m sure she’ll do a great job but get ready ‘cause you know she’ll pick on the two of us at some point.” Prime hosted a drag show every Sunday during tea dance, but on special occasions, Tony brought in someone to help with presentations or contests.

“We’ll keep it short. I don’t want it to drag out, pun intended. We’ll crown Mr. Valentine 2015 and promote the Bunnies & Bonnets benefit on Easter Sunday. We need to decide on this year’s beneficiary for the event before then.”

“How about we poll the employees? I’ll get a vote this year as an unpaid staff member. ” Prime works hard to be a good corporate citizen year round. The neon signs hung in front of the bar every week were auctioned off once a year to benefit the Human Rights Campaign. During the holidays, patrons are encouraged to support Feeding America or a local food bank, and the Ben Cohen StandUp Foundation is a regular beneficiary of the bar’s fundraising efforts.

“Let’s forget about polling and go with Ben’s StandUp Foundation. The work they are doing to combat homophobia and bullying is outstanding. Ben’s one of the gay community’s staunchest straight allies, and the man usually drops in to say hi when he’s in New York. He’s become a friend. The anti-bullying message always resonates with the patrons—many of them can relate.”

Kærlighed: “Did we get our delivery for this weekend while I was out, darling?”

Upendo: “FedEx hottie bring clean nappies, extra arrows, and final instructions.”

Kærlighed: “I hope they sent enough of the magic powder to make us invisible.”

Upendo: “Whole big bottle. We be working da gym WOOF in daytime.”

Kærlighed: “What about nighttime? Are we still at the club?

Upendo: “Yeah, mon. We got us some good shit here. Look at da cute couple we get to shoot.”

Kærlighed: “Wow, baby! One dark-haired stud and one blonde stud, good-looking boys.”

Upendo: “They already be togedda, darkie be da club owner, and blondie own da gym.”

Kærlighed: “You say they’re already together? Why are they on the list?”

Upendo: “We gonna giv’em boosta shots.”

Kærlighed: “Cool! Do we have any other specific assignments?”

Upendo: “Yeah, mon, two more. One straight couple ‘n’ one gay couple.”

Kærlighed: “Really? A straight couple at Prime? Nice!”

Upendo: “Da owner’s brodda and da pretty lady in da picture dere.”

Kærlighed: “Oh yeah! They’ll make a really hot couple.”

Upendo: “You imagine da cute kids dey have?”

Kærlighed: “Oh definitely, I hope I’m in New York long enough to see them when they’re born.”

Upendo: “Da odda couple be da girl’s best friend and da boy’s roomie.”

Kærlighed: “Wow! How cool is that? It’s like a full circle with the three couples.”

Upendo: “Yeah, mon. Dis gonna be a fun Valentine.”