The Start of a Beautiful Friendship by Tinnean

Author:Tinnean [Tinnean]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf

IX

A COUPLE of hours later, Louis began stirring.

“Merde! I fell asleep?”

“Yep.”

“I am sorry.”

“Not a problem, although I have to wonder why.”

“This has been a bad week for me. A friend… died, and it struck me harder than I had anticipated. We had worked together for a time, but then he….” Louis sighed.

“I’m sorry.” I thought of UB. “Cancer?”

“No, he was a Sagittarius.”

“Huh?”

“Pardon? Oh, you are inquiring about the cause of death. No. You might say it was lead poisoning.”

A bullet wound? At least that was what “lead poisoning” meant in all the Westerns I’d watched as a kid.

Yeah, I could see that. The life of a rent boy could be dangerous.

“I lost someone recently too,” I heard myself saying.

“I am sorry. A lover?”

“No. Not even a fuck buddy. We spent a day together once.”

“Ah.” Louis rolled onto his back and stretched. “So, what do we do now?”

“What do you say to some lunch?” I’d worked up an appetite, and I was starved.

“We just had breakfast.”

I glanced at my watch. “A few hours ago.”

“Truly? That much time has already passed?”

“You did take a nap.”

“Ah, that explains it. I was wondering why I felt a little hungry.”

Considering what the French had for breakfast, I wasn’t surprised.

“Does this hotel have room service?” he asked.

I burst into laughter.

“I take it that is a no.”

“You’ve got that right, Louis.” I freed my arm and gave it a shake. Damn, it had fallen asleep.

“Do we go out?” he asked hesitantly.

“Maybe later.” He seemed relieved. Did he think I’d be ashamed to be seen with him because of what he did to survive? Not fucking likely. “I need a shower.” His semen had smeared over my abdomen and dried in my pubic hair, making me itchy. I got up, crossed to the little desk, and opened the middle drawer, which held a stack of menus. “You’d better call. Every time I do, they don’t understand me, and I wind up getting something I’d never have ordered on my worst day.”

“You have been here in Paris before?”

“On business.”

“Perhaps you should learn the language.” He rose and joined me, took the menu, and scanned it.

“You said something about teaching me.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He grinned but continued to study the menu. “What would you like?”

“Anything except fish.” I pointed out one item. “I’ve had this before.” It was heirloom tomato Napoleon, and I figured I could get away with it, since Napoleon was pretty much the same in English or French. “That’s a safe bet for me. Order whatever you’d like. Get a bottle of wine as well. And don’t forget to tell them we’ll need forks and knives. And glasses. Here.” I handed him five hundred francs. “This should cover the tip too.”

“Bien sûr. Of course,” he translated with a lazy grin.

I laughed and went into the bathroom and shut the door.

His jacket hung from a hook behind the door. In a pocket was a disposable cell phone. He must have been the kind of working boy who kept his contact numbers in his head, because nothing was listed in this phone.

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