Chapter 4
David approached the doorway leading into his kitchen, and stopped when he heard music drifting out of the room. He took a few steps forward and looked inside. He saw Mark standing in front of his stove, apparently cooking something in a pan while he swayed his hips in time to the music coming from the radio sitting on the counter beside him. He’d removed the denim jacket that he’d been wearing yesterday, and was now wearing only the rumpled and none too clean t-shirt and the battered pair of jeans that he’d also had on yesterday. His feet were bare.
He felt a lance of relief and pleasure go through him that Mark hadn’t bolted while he slept. He cleared his throat a little. “Good morning, Mark,” he said.
The young actor stopped dancing and turned to look over his shoulder briefly. He smiled. “Good morning, David. Are you hungry?” he asked.
He was. He’d slept so long and so well that he’d missed several meals. His stomach rumbled loudly. Mark’s grey eyes twinkled at the sound. “Sit down, I’m almost finished. We’re having veggie omelets and toast. Sound good?” he turned back to his cooking.
“Yes, it does,” he replied, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
Mark expertly flipped the omelet in the pan. “You got a good deal, having me as your dogsbody,” he remarked to David. “Because I can cook. My mom taught me how. I’ll feed you up right!” he added, lifting his spatula into the air rather triumphantly.
David found himself smiling. “How’s your face?” he asked, referring to the darkening bruises on Mark’s skin.
“It hurts. Throbs a little. But nothing too bad. Vlad just wanted to scare me, not damage the merchandise. I wouldn’t be able to bring in as much money if I were disfigured.” Mark reassured him.
“Yes, I guess I can see that,” the writer conceded. He paused, then went on: “What about your room? Have you gotten settled in yet? And do we need to go to your apartment and pick your things up?”
Mark sighed, sliding the finished omelet onto a plate expertly. “Vlad trashed my apartment yesterday, looking for anything valuable - and also as a warning to me. He wrecked most of my stuff, though fortunately he didn’t destroy my family photos or anything really important. But as it is, I don’t think that I have too many pieces of intact clothing left,” he looked glum as he set the plate in front of David.
“I’ll buy you more clothes today,” David said as he picked up a fork.
Mark frowned. “I wasn’t angling to get you to buy me clothes,” he chided.
David nodded. “I know you weren’t. But you can’t very well wear the same set of clothes day after day,” he pointed out, nodding toward the t-shirt and jeans that Mark was clad in. “And if you’re going to be my employee, that means that you represent ME. I want you to look good when you’re out in public. Besides, you want to look your best when you go to audition or for casting calls. They’re not going to want to hire someone who looks homeless…unless they’re casting for a roll of a hobo, that is.”
Mark laughed ruefully. “I suppose you have a point,” he said. “But I’ll pay you back for anything that you buy me, when I get an acting job.”
“That’s fine,” David said serenely, cutting into the tasty-looking omelet with his fork.
Mark looked at him, then turned back to the stove to finish making his own omelet. “You’re just too nice,” he sighed.
“If you’d prefer, I’ll try to be as mean as possible from now on,” David told him in amusement.
Mark chuckled. “Nope. I prefer nice, all things considered.”
David ate his food in peace, and was joined by Mark after a few minutes. The actor ate his food with concentration and enjoyment, and after a bit David found himself watching Mark eat. He knew that he was torturing himself, but he couldn’t seem to stop. He wanted to groan aloud when a small pink tongue darted out to lick up the toast crumbs at one corner of Mark’s mouth, and he looked down at his almost empty plate hurriedly.
“Oh, I called Uncle Sid earlier and told him what happened yesterday. Once I got him calmed down, he said that he’d be coming over later to make sure that we’re both okay. Sometime after noon.”
“Okay. We’ll pick up some lunch at this great deli that I know. Sid always comes over for lunch, because he’s addicted to the hot pastrami on rye sandwiches that I always get for him. It’s a kosher deli,” he added with a smile for Mark’s benefit.
The actor laughed, leaning back in his seat. “That’s Uncle Sid for you. He’s a bit of a moocher,” he said, his eyes dancing.
“But he’s a great agent, so I can’t complain,” David replied easily. He studied Mark’s face. “You know, you don’t look that much like him…”
“By that I suppose that you mean that I don’t look very Jewish,” Mark said with a smile.
“Well…” David hesitated, not wanting to offend him.
Mark chuckled again, a bright sound that made weird things happen in David’s stomach(and parts lower down as well) . “That’s because I’m only half,” he told David. “Jewish, that is. My dad is Uncle Sid’s brother. But my mom is Irish-Catholic.”
David blinked. “Jewish…and Irish-Catholic…?” he repeated incredulously.
Mark snorted. “I know, right? But somehow it’s always worked for them, for almost thirty years now. Which is weird when you think about it, especially since they’re both pretty devout. But they got smart when they first fell in love, and decided that they wouldn’t try to convert each other. So my dad goes to temple every week, and my mom goes to Mass twice a week, and she doesn’t cook or drive a car or anything on Saturdays just for him. And when we kids started to arrive, they agreed not to push their religion onto any of us until we were old enough to decide for ourselves which one we wanted to pick. Although mom did get to take us to Christmas and Easter Mass, and Good Friday, and all of the major religious events, while we celebrated Hanukkah and all of the Jewish holidays as well. Which was sort of cool, since we got twice the number of presents at Christmas as everybody else did.”
“So you have siblings?”
“Yes, two brothers.” Mark grimaced in amusement. “One is a Roman Catholic priest,” he told David wryly, “And the other is a rabbi.”
David’s mouth fell open a little. Mark’s grinned at his expression. “I know. And here I am, the baby of the family who doesn’t even go to church or to temple, and who doesn’t really believe in religion at all. Although maybe that has something to do with the fact that gay people aren’t really very welcome in ANY religion, and I don’t go where I’m not welcome.”
David felt that odd sensation in his stomach again when Mark admitted to being gay. “I know how you feel,” he remarked casually. “I was raised Methodist, but I don’t go to church either. Some religions are willing to accept gays, but it’s too uncomfortable to know that many of the people in the church with you think that you’re going to Hell. It’s too weird a feeling.”
Mark stared at him. “You’re gay? Uncle Sid never mentioned that.”
David shrugged. “I don’t advertise my sexuality, though Sid does know that I’m gay. But then again, he never mentioned that he had a nephew living here in L.A. I didn’t know about you until you tried to brain me yesterday in my living room.”
“It’s cool that I get to work for another gay guy,” Mark commented. “I’ve never had a gay boss before. Does that come with any perks?”
David thought of a few perks that he’d like to mention, but he kept them to himself. “I’m afraid not. Except for the fact that I won’t have any problem with you dating guys,” he pointed out aloud.
Mark made a wry moue with his mouth. “I haven’t been very lucky in that department lately,” he said. “Although since my life in turning around in other ways, maybe I’ll get lucky in love.”
David just looked at him, saying nothing. He reminded himself rather severely that a man who was almost ten years older and rather boring to boot probably wouldn’t be what Mark considered ’getting lucky’. “If you’re finished eating,” he said at last, “We should get going. We need to buy you some clothes and pick up the food.”
“Just let me rinse the plates and tidy up,” Mark said, grabbing his plate and jumping to his feet. “I’ll be ready in a moment.”
“I’ll get my keys and meet you at the car. Oh, we have to return the rental car today, too. Will you drive that while I follow in my own car?” David asked him.
“Sure will. Just tell me where to go, Captain,” Mark said sunnily as he scraped the plates and rinsed them in the sink.
“But I’m telling you, this is too much!” Mark protested as they exited a shop in the mall, laden with bags.
David sighed. “I wanted to buy it all, it’s not like you’re forcing me,” he pointed out in faint exasperation.
Mark just snorted. “You can’t help but be nice, and generous too,” he told David. “But I don’t want to take advantage of that fact.”
“Maybe not,” the writer replied, “But everything’s already bought and paid for. You might as well wear them, because I won’t be returning any of these clothes.”
Mark huffed a little, but finally had to accept David’s stubbornness. “Fine. But I WILL pay you back someday,” he vowed.
“I know you will,” David replied calmly.
They left the mall together, and stowed all of the various bags and boxes in the trunk of David’s Toyota. All except for the dark-blue pullover and the new pair of black jeans that Mark was already wearing, in lieu of his rumpled and dirty t-shirt and jeans. “Now for food,” David remarked as he got behind the wheel. “What kind of sandwiches do you like, Mark?”
“Actually, where that’s concerned I take after my mom’s side of the family,” Mark told him. “I like corned beef sandwiches with Swiss cheese and hot sauerkraut. And just a dash of mustard. On St. Patty’s day I’ll make you traditional corned beef and cabbage, just like my mom makes. You’ll love it.”
“I’m sure I will. Do you make traditional Jewish food, too?”
Mark laughed. “Yes, courtesy of my Jewish grandma. I can make challa, latkes, knishes, blintzes, tzimmes, cholent, holishkes, kugel, matzah ball soup, and of course bagels and lox. She taught my tons of recipes. Whenever I went over to her house, she’d teach me how to cook something else. I think she wanted a granddaughter, but no such luck. So she used me as a substitute.”
David glanced sideways at Mark, thinking to himself that the young actor was ALMOST pretty enough to be a girl. Almost. Except for the very masculine shape of his face's bone structure. Which David preferred anyway, since he’d never been attracted to women at all. He wondered silently just what he’d gotten himself into, taking in a handsome young gay man to live with him. He gulped a little as he remembered the Speedo bathing suit that Mark had bought, imaging the actor swimming in his pool wearing only that scrap of fabric. Boy, was he in trouble! And he’d brought it all on himself, when he’d given Mark the money to pay off his debt. Still, he wouldn’t change anything. Because the thought of poor Mark ending up a male prostitute to make money to pay back his debt, was enough to make him shudder. If he’d been in a similar situation, he’d have hoped that someone would help him. So he’d just have to endure, and hope that it wasn’t really possible to die from suppressed lust and enforced celibacy...
Mark appeared in the doorway of his study. “David, I’m doing laundry to wash my new clothes,” he said. “Should I wash everything in your suitcase, too?”
“Sure,” he said absently, looking up from his laptop for a moment. “If you would, thanks.”
Mark grinned. “I’m your dogsbody, David. This is what I do,” he said, disappearing from the doorway as quickly as he’d appeared.
David went back to his writing. He was actually outlining the chapters for his new book, the eighth in a series about a former American spy who now worked for a private security company, traveling the world cleaning up messes and getting into dangerous situations. Nate Dunning was as different from his creator as was humanly possible. Which suited David down to the ground; thinking about how frightened he’d been confronting the Russian gangster Vlad made him break out into a sweat even now. He just wasn’t cut out for danger and intrigue; he’d leave all of that to Nate.
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