Page 132 of Rhymes with Metaphor
“You look lovely,” Reg murmured, kissing Joel’s forehead.
Joel was keyed up as they crossed the garage to Reg’s car, walking far ahead of him and bouncing on his toes.
“Slow down,” said Reg.“We don’t want to be on time.”
Silas lived in a converted warehouse by the river, all silver and glass and thin, black shadows.
Silas greeted them at the door and took their coats.When he saw what Joel was wearing underneath, he said, “Sporting the urchin chic, are we?”His hands lingered on Joel’s shoulders.
“Same scriptwriter, I see,” said Joel.
Silas laughed, narrow-eyed.He swept them into his loft, and they were met by chamber music so light and tasteful, it was almost offensive.The place was full of people sipping champagne and chatting in little groups.The entire wall of the living room was a window overlooking the river.The centrepiece of the room was a sculpture of a puma in chrome and raw obsidian, back arched, mouth open in a silent scream.
“If you put your hand in its mouth, young man,” said Silas to Joel, “you’ll bleed.”
Joel did not put his hand in its mouth.
“I see your compatriot’s had a piece published inThe New Yorker,” said Silas to Reg.
“Who?”said Reg.
“Martin,” said Silas.“Do you have so many co-conspirators published there that you can’t keep them straight?”Silas lingered on that last word.“Or are you no longer in each other’s pockets these days?”
Reg knew he was being needled.Although he didn’t dignify the remark with a response, he still felt it; if Martin hadn’t lowered the drawbridge to announce an accomplishment of that magnitude, a truce clearly wasn’t imminent.
Joel kept close to Reg for most of the evening, but at one point, Reg was waylaid by a mutual friend of Flip’s from their undergraduate days.By the time Reg managed to tactfully extricate himself from the conversation, Joel had left, perhaps not wanting to hear about Flip.Reg eventually found Joel in the kitchen.The lights were dim, and Silas had Joel backed into a corner by the stove, not touching him, but obviously encroaching into his space.
“...my little lamb,” Silas murmured.
For a queasy moment, Reg sensed he was interrupting.
Then Joel made eye contact with him and said, “Reg.”and his voice was so full of relief, it bled the tension out of the room.
Silas reluctantly stepped back, releasing Joel.He cast a sharp and appraising stare at his back.
“We have to go,” said Reg.
“So soon?”said Silas.
“We have another engagement,” said Reg, setting his glass on the counter.Joel followed suit.
“The offer still stands, Joel,” said Silas.
Joel didn’t say anything, but Reg felt him trembling as he put an arm around his shoulders and led him away.Joel was in a hurry and walked out the front door the moment he’d put his coat on.Reg caught up to him at the elevator.Joel was breathing hard.
“He’s married,” said Joel, sounding outraged.“He has awife.”
“He does wear a ring.”
“It doesn’t look like a wedding ring,” said Joel.
“I expect he designed it himself.”
“Hebackground checkedme,” said Joel.
“Was that what he was doing?”
“I’m serious, Reg.He knows things about me I’ve never told him.He knows my dad’s dead.He knows who my mother is and what Juliet’s doing her thesis on.And he knows all about you.”
