As Luis turned to walk back to the house, he glanced over at Ted Barker’s empty house. It was to the right of the driveway, an old white stucco over stone farmhouse that sat close to the road. Ted had booked a three-month trip to Europe that summer and he wouldn’t be around at all, which seemed to make Jase smile more than usual. Though Luis had never been sexually attracted to Ted, he had bonded with him as a friend, which often caused Jase to shove his hands into his pockets so no one would see him clenching his fists.
Sometimes he even popped a stick of gum into his mouth and chewed so fast his ears moved. Jase wasn’t normally the jealous type. He didn’t seem to mind the way Luis was always harmlessly teasing and flirting with Cory, and he laughed at the way Josh was always trying to get into Luis’s pants. But there was something about Ted Barker that could set Jase’s jaw and turn his face red with rage. Maybe it was because Ted treated Luis with respect on an intellectual level. In other words, Luis wasn’t a sex toy to Ted, and Ted was interested in more than fucking Luis’s hot ass. To Ted, Luis was a smart guy who held serious conversations. And no matter how many times Luis assured Jase he wasn’t attracted to Ted, Jase always glared at Ted whenever he was around.
Luis sighed and turned to look at Angus Bernie’s old stone house, which flanked the other side of the easement road. The Reverend von Klingensmith’s big black Cadillac sedan was parked in the driveway and there was a white pickup truck parked behind it. The pickup truck was an older model, a compact-sized truck, with extra-large tires that seemed to lift it into the air and create an off balanced, uncertain image. Luis thought about knocking on Thomas’s door, but when he saw the pickup truck he decided not to interrupt him without calling first.
But as Luis turned to walk back to the house, Thomas shouted his name from the front yard. Then his voice went up with a singsong inflection and he said, “I was going to phone you, Luis. This nice young man has been looking for you and he stopped to ask for directions.” Thomas gestured to a handsome young blond guy on his right and said, “He says he was sent here by an employment agency in New York.”
Thomas was wearing beige shorts pulled high above his extra-large waist, and his pure white, hairless legs looked almost transparent in the strong morning sun. He’d just had his silver hair tinted with a blue rinse, which had been a big mistake.
Luis turned and smiled. The employment agency he’d contacted last week hadn’t called to set up any appointments.
The young man standing beside Thomas wore shiny bright blue basketball shorts, white cross training shoes, and a baggy white T-shirt. The blond hair on his athletic legs—the shorts came down below his knees—was a shade darker than the short blond hair on his head. He had deep cleft in his strong, square chin. For a moment, Luis thought he’d met this guy somewhere before. But when he caught his breath and realized it was probably his imagination, he crossed to the white picket fence that surrounded the stone house and said, “Good morning Thomas.” He smiled at the young man.
“What can I do for you?” Luis forced a smile. He’d expected the employment agency to send a middle-aged woman with a gray bun, half glasses, thick ankles, and gum-soled shoes.
Something along the lines of a cross between Nanny McPhee and Mary Poppins, with or without the bad teeth and magic umbrella. He hadn’t expected a college basketball jock with dimples in his cheeks and bright blue eyes. Frankly, it crossed Luis’s mind this guy should be auditioning for modeling jobs instead of housekeeping jobs.
Thomas said, with his glance set at the protrusion between the young guy’s legs, “This nice young man is Darius Denby. He says he’s here about a nanny-housekeeper position at Cider Mill Farm.” Thomas’s voice went higher and sounded excited. He was one step away from dropping to his knees and sticking out his tongue. His face turned pink and he smiled so widely Luis could see his gold crowns. Good-looking young Darius-the-jock had driven Thomas into a state of sheer giddiness and the poor guy hadn’t done anything but stand there and smile.
Luis had seen this reaction before with a lot of his former older clients. They simply couldn’t help themselves.
Whenever older gay men like Thomas were in the company of handsome athletic young men like Darius Denby they always seemed to lose their senses and bubble over with uncontrolled excitement. It had something to do with basketball shorts, hairy blond legs, and sneakers.
So Luis pretended to ignore Thomas’s excitement. He maintained an even voice and said, “I’m Luis Fortune. I live at the other end of the road. Were you sent by the agency? No one contacted me about it.” Luis wasn’t sure whether or not it was considered discriminatory to be against hiring a young man like Thomas for a nanny-housekeeper position. So he spoke with no emotion, paying close attention to each word that came from his mouth. The least the employment agency could have done was contact him ahead of time to let him know someone was coming.
Darius took a few steps forward and lifted his right arm across the fence. When he shook Luis’s hand, he smiled and said, “I’m sorry about that. I was told the agency had contacted you and you’d be waiting to interview me.” He laughed and shook his head and his voice was deep and sincere. “I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll leave and wait for the agency to contact you. I feel so awkward now.” Then he turned, lowered his head, and started walking back toward his truck.
Thomas’s smile turned into a frown. He sent Luis a pleading stare, as if to say, please don’t let him leave. For a moment, Luis was worried Thomas might throw his arms around Darius and console him.
So Luis shrugged his shoulders and said, “As long as you’re here, you may as well come back to the house and we’ll talk.”
Thomas smiled again. His faith in Luis had been restored.
Darius stopped walking and turned. “Are you sure, Mr. Fortune? I don’t want to put you out in any way. I can always come back at another time.”
Though Luis wasn’t thrilled about interviewing a guy who looked like a personal trainer at his gym, he started to feel bad about turning him away now that he was already here.
“It’s no problem,” Luis said. “And please call me Luis. I have a light schedule today and as long as you’re here I may as well interview you.” It was the least he could do, after all. But he had no intention of hiring him. He was doing it to be polite.
So Darius left his truck in Thomas’s driveway—Thomas said he’d keep a “watchful” eye on it and continued to gaze at the slight bulge between Darius’s legs—and they walked back to the house. On the way, Luis learned Darius was the oldest child of seven, from a household in Utah with a single working mother. Darius had helped raise his brothers and sisters, from doing their laundry to cooking their meals.