Date: Thu, 10 Apr 2003 22:10:12 -0500
From: A. Janes <aj2637@earthlink.net>
Subject: Now Let Me Get This Straight, Part 2

Now Let Me Get This Straight, Part 2
By Austin Janes

A light snow had begun to fall as Josh and Edward drove downtown to the
opera ball. Josh had insisted they go in Edward's Toyota Prius rather than
in his own Jeep Wrangler. Edward could tell Josh was nervous and needed to
be in control, so he quickly deferred to Josh and let him drive. A year
ago, when Edward's old Ford Taurus had finally given up the ghost, Josh had
convinced Edward that he must buy an environmentally friendly "Aqua Ice"
Prius even though it was a little out of his price range. How Josh could
continue to drive a Wrangler, which on a good day got only 18 miles per
gallon, Edward never figured out. But, he thought, image--especially when
it concerns personal transportation--seems to trump any other
considerations in the minds of the young.

During the short drive, Edward was tempted to remind Josh once again not to
pester Charlotte about introducing them to Charles Bingley. Edward had, in
the previous week, admonished Josh that Charlotte's job at the opera,
although it didn't pay a lot, was very important to her sense of
self. Pestering her at the ball about the introduction might put her in an
embarrassing position in regard to the General Director. Josh must allow
her to use her own discretion in making the introduction. Josh, of course,
protested that he wasn't a child and that he knew how to act
appropriately. And there the matter lay.

Edward watched his cousin tightly grip the steering wheel, shoulders
hunched and eyes glued to the now somewhat slippery road, and he thought
better of bringing up the subject again. Instead, he put his left hand
around the back of Josh's neck and massaged it lightly.

"Try to relax, Josh. We're going to have fun, right?"

Josh grinned and relaxed his shoulders. "I'm not nervous, you know. I'm
just trying to not like total your car, okay?"

"Yeah, right," Edward answered grinning back.

The opera ball was being held in an indoor sports arena known as the Chrome
Dome, after the large investment firm, Chrowe, Magnon & Mann, which had
purchased the naming rights. Most local residents, however, referred to it
as the "Sucker Dome", because of the large sums of taxpayer money that were
spent to build the facility in hopes of luring a National Football League
team to the city. Edward thought it a bizarre location to hold a fundraiser
for the opera, whatever its name, but figured the space must have been
donated.

They parked the car in a large parking garage marked with a temporary sign
"For Opera Ball Patrons", and sprinted across the street to the arena,
shivering all the way, since they had left their topcoats at home. The
imposing main entrance was locked tight, and they needed to go in through
the almost hidden players' entrance. Just inside at a check-in desk
Charlotte was waiting for them.

"Well, it's about time you guys showed up!"

"You haven't been here this whole time, have you?" Edward asked.

"No, I got to eat dinner with the adults, but I've been here at the desk
off and on. Fergus figured since I know everyone, I would be the best
person to identify the guests. You may have noticed security is a little
tight tonight. The mayor and a few other VIPs are here." She winked at
Josh.

Edward and Josh then became aware that there were two very large men in
dark suits partially blocking the hallway that led to the players' locker
room. Charlotte threaded herself between the cousins grabbing an arm from
each and, nodding to the security guards, escorted her friends into the
locker room. The sounds of an orchestra tuning could already be heard from
the distant arena floor.

"You look stunning, Charlotte! What a beautiful color!" said Edward
referring to her dress. Then, whirling around and planting himself squarely
in front of her, he stared down closely at the diamond necklace nestled in
her large bosom and asked pointedly, "Are they real?"

Charlotte immediately caught on that he wasn't referring just to the
necklace and pushed him away lightly.

"You better watch it, buster!" she said laughing. "And I was going for
'smashing'--not 'stunning', but thank you for the compliment. You're
looking mighty sexy yourself, handsome." Then noticing Edward's neckwear,
she said, "Hey, nice tie!"

Josh beamed. Charlotte, pretending she'd just noticed him, said, "So who's
the tasty piece of eye candy you came with, Edward? I didn't know you knew
any film stars."

"Aw, Charlotte, cut it out!" Josh responded. "It's just a tux, okay? No big
deal!"

She smooched him on the cheek and watched his face color slightly and his
grin widen.

"You're going to break a lot of hearts tonight, young Josh," she said.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


If Edward had had any thought that the arena floor would be transformed
into a rococo Viennese palace, he was soon to be disappointed. As the trio
passed through the entrance tunnel and on to the field at one end of the
arena, the first thing to strike his eyes was the bright blue tarp covering
the Astroturf. At the far end of the field, where the other goal post would
normally be, an open-sided white tent had been erected. Guests were still
lingering at the round dining tables underneath the canopy. Nearby a small
wooden dance floor had been set up, and on the sidelines a twelve-piece
orchestra was playing the first strains of an arrangement of waltzes from
Der Rosenkavalier.

They made their way in the dim light along the outside of the field toward
the brightly lit tent. Edward remarked on how poor the acoustics were-it
was an indoor sports arena, after all-but Charlotte assured him that the
sound would improve as they got closer. Josh just stared in wonderment.

When they finally reached the tent, Edward could see that the dinner must
have been splendid. Even in the disarray of dishes and chairs after the
meal, he was impressed by the choice of tableware, flower centerpieces and
the ambience created by the lighting and colors.

"Do I detect your influence in this little shindig?"

Charlotte smiled modestly. "Well, yes. I did play a small role, although
there is only so much one can do with rented dishes and a sports dome."

Turning to his cousin, Edward then asked, "Josh, are you going to be okay
on your own for a while? I'd like to ask this charming young lady for a
dance."

"Sure, I'll be fine, Eddie. Think I'll go grab a drink or something." And
off Josh went into the crowd.

"Will you do me the honor, my dear?"

"Why of course, kind sir!"

None of the hundred or more attendees had yet ventured on to the dance
floor. Edward and Charlotte began the familiar turning pattern of a
Viennese waltz. A few of the guests, thinking the dancing couple had been
hired as entertainment, applauded politely. Soon, however, several more
couples joined them, and when the number of people on the floor finally
made fast waltzing impossible, Edward and Charlotte slowed down enough to
converse.

"Do you think Josh will be all right tonight?" Charlotte began.

"Yes, he'll be fine. He's a good kid, really--just a little star struck."

"Chaz Bingley is quite the charmer. Everyone is taken with him. Even
Mrs. Acquaponte was falling all over him at dinner. She actually pretended
to brush a crumb off his lapel and then accused one of the poor catering
staff of carelessness!"

"Oh, hell! Mrs. Acquaponte's here?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. She's on the Board of Trustees after all."

Mrs. Acquaponte was the wife of the CEO of HappyFeet Shoe
Corporation. Edward's sole encounter with her had started with what he
thought was going to involve a fundraising brochure for City Opera. Edward
had taken some calligraphy classes in the course of his graphic design
education and could write a decent Spencerian hand. How she knew that
Edward could do calligraphy, he never found out, but Mrs. Acquaponte
approached him about addressing a few "special invitations" for
her. Thinking this was for the fundraiser, he readily agreed. The "special
invitations" turned out to be nearly 300 invitations to the wedding of her
oldest daughter, Pamphylia. Not only did Edward barely make minimum wage on
this endeavor, but Mrs. Acquaponte also had the gall to ask that fourteen
of them be done again, because "they weren't fancy enough." In the course
of this job, Josh would often hear grumbling and soft curses coming from
Edward's studio, including what sounded like "wok, wok, wok!" He later
learned that Edward had shortened "wizened old crone" to its acronym and
would spit it out as an epithet to relieve his frustration. Edward had
heard it rumored that Mrs. Acquaponte's second daughter, Mesopotamia, had
just become engaged, so he was anxious to avoid her.

"I'll keep the big, bad witch away from you, dear," Charlotte said
soothingly.

"'Witch' is not the word I would have chosen," Edward replied gritting his
teeth.

The first set of waltzes had ended. As Edward escorted Charlotte off the
dance floor he noticed Josh leading a pretty young lady on.

"Look, Charlotte!" He pointed toward Josh.

"Good for him!" she replied. "He's managed to find the only woman here
under 30."

"Who is she? And what do you suppose she's doing at this old fogy's
convention?"

"Well thanks a lot, Edward!"

"I didn't mean you, Charlotte! You know that."

"Anyway, that's Fergus's daughter, Fiona."

"But I thought Fergus was..."

"Gay?" she finished for him. "That doesn't mean he can't have a daughter,
does it? His ex-wife in Scotland wanted her to spend more time with her
father, so she's here till after the New Year."

Edward and Charlotte watched the young couple whirl around the dance
floor. Josh's natural physical grace lent itself well to waltzing. The
young lady matched him step for step.

"Well, God bless Catholic schools!" Edward exclaimed. "Who knew Josh could
dance so well?"

"Is that where he learned, do you think?" Charlotte asked. "I'm glad he's
found something--or someone--to distract him. I'm afraid I have some bad
news about Mr. Bingley."

"What do you mean?" Edward asked with concern.

"He's not gay."

"He told you this?"

"Not exactly. But the way he flirted with me--hell, not just me but with
every woman here! A woman knows these things."

"You mean you have straydar," Edward said smiling in relief.

"Straydar?"

"You know, the straight version of gaydar."

Charlotte laughed. "Something like that."

"No offense, my dear Charlotte, but I will continue to hold out hope for
Josh's sake, that Mr. Bingley is at least bi, if not gay. And if Fergus can
have a daughter, why can't a gay Mr. Bingley flirt with attractive young
ladies such as yourself? By the way, where is Mr. Bingley?"

"You haven't noticed him yet?" she asked incredulously. And then pointing,
she continued, "He's standing right over there."

Mr. Bingley was about twenty feet away from the pair on the other side of
the dance floor. For all the talk about Charles Bingley during the past few
weeks, Edward had little idea of what he actually looked like. Not an avid
reader of People or even The Gayzette, he assumed Mr. Bingley must be a
good-looking man but knew nothing beyond that. What Edward saw was an
exceptionally handsome man, perhaps a little shorter than his cousin, with
bright blue eyes, light brown hair and an open countenance that bespoke
good humor and affability. Mr. Bingley sported a carefully cultivated
three-day growth of beard and was wearing what Edward calculated to be a
very expensive tuxedo. He was watching something intently on the dance
floor.

Following the direction of Mr. Bingley's gaze, Edward realized he was
watching Josh and Fiona as they danced. Just at that moment, Mr. Bingley
looked over at Edward, smiled broadly and came towards him and Charlotte.

"Charlotte, I need your help!" he said laughing. "Oh, pardon me, I don't
think I've met your friend." After the proper introductions were made, he
continued, "What a terrific idea to have an opera ball as a fundraiser!
Everyone is having such a good time, don't you think? I bet Will will want
to suggest the same kind of thing at the next Met board meeting."

"I think the ball was Charlotte's idea, actually," Edward responded, not
really understanding who Will was. "But what I would like to know is where
the arrangements for the dance music came from? They're brilliantly done."
The orchestra had just begun a rendition of the "Jewel Song" from Faust.

"I know Miles did some of the arranging," Charlotte offered. Miles Owenby
was the Artistic Director of City Opera and was conducting the small
orchestra. "But, Chaz, you said you needed my help?"

"Yes, of course! You seem to know everyone here," he said, eliciting a
smile from Charlotte. "Who is the young man dancing with Fergus's daughter?
I don't remember seeing him at dinner."

Charlotte was momentarily speechless. Edward suppressed a guffaw and
answered for her, "That is my cousin, Josh Bennett. We both arrived
together a little while ago."

"Where did he learn to dance like that?"

It was apparent to Edward, at least, that Mr. Bingley had more than a
casual interest in his cousin. He answered, "Charlotte and I were just
talking about that. I'm guessing he must have learned to dance at Our Lady
of Perpetual Responsibility High School in Chicago. I think parochial
schools are the only ones that still teach ballroom dancing in gym class."

"Wow!" Mr. Bingley replied. "He's a great dancer. And how did a young guy
like him get interested in opera?"

Edward knew that Mr. Bingley was how Josh "got interested in opera" but
decided not to blow his cover. He answered instead, "Would you like to meet
him? I'll let Josh tell you himself."

Charlotte, finally regaining her tongue, cried, "I will do the
introductions, thank you very much!" Looking at Edward she said, "You go
get me a glass of champagne." Edward laughed out loud this time, made an
exaggerated gesture of obeisance and went off toward the bar.

When he got to the long table set up as a bar, he paused and looked back at
the dancers. Josh and Fiona were still waltzing away, but a man and a woman
had joined Charlotte and Mr. Bingley on the edge of the dance floor. The
woman had very short hair--excruciatingly blond, Edward thought. She was
fashion model thin and dressed in a black leather miniskirt with an
expensive looking black top of some sort. She had a heavy silver choker
around her neck, which she was fingering nervously as she balance herself
awkwardly on chunky black shoes with heels of an indeterminate height. Her
shrill laughter cut through the music of the orchestra.

The man was something else entirely. Taller than Mr. Bingley by an inch or
two and perhaps a few years older, he had black hair with just a hint of
gray around the temples, very dark eyes and a square, clean-shaven cleft
chin, although the shadow on his face suggested the stubble of a very heavy
beard. If Mr. Bingley was handsome, this other man was positively
dangerous. Elegantly dressed in a tuxedo like Mr. Bingley, he was gazing
around the arena with what seemed like barely concealed contempt.

Despite himself, Edward began to feel aroused by this man's intimidating
masculinity. In the ten years since his break up with Greg, Edward had
tried to avoid strong feelings of any kind, but especially sexual
ones. Seeing this man was therefore an unwelcome shock. Edward felt his
cock harden and began to panic that his erection would become
noticeable--or worse yet, a precum stain would begin to appear on his
trousers. In his panic, he tried to readjust his suit coat to hide whatever
might lurk below and was only brought back to earth by the sound of a voice
behind him.

"Hey, Mr. B.!"

Edward turned around, and behind the table that served as the bar was
standing Josh's friend Brandon. Between the panic brought on by his sudden
sexual arousal and the surprise of seeing Brandon in an unfamiliar context,
Edward just stared at him with his mouth open.

"It's me! You know--Brandon Dilschneider. You seen a ghost or somethin',
Mr. B.?" Brandon asked with a smile.

The absurdity of the situation suddenly hit Edward and he began to
laugh. "I'm sorry, Brandon. I didn't recognize you at first. What are you
doing here, anyway?"

"I moonlight as a bartender with Cacciatore Catering. When Josh told me he
was going to be here, I made sure they used me for this opera gig."

Brandon was dressed in black pants and a black vest over a long-sleeve
white shirt with a red bow tie. The heavy steel ring that usually pierced
his left eyebrow was replaced with a thin silver post capped by small
silver balls on either side. Three small silver rings pierced his left ear
lobe and his long blond hair was tied back discreetly in a ponytail. Edward
figured this must constitute Brandon's "work" attire.

"It was very nice of you to lend Josh your tux," Edward said. "You didn't
need it for work?"

"Shit, no, Mr. B.! This is what they want me to wear when I'm workin'. You
won't catch me in that fuckin' monkey suit, if I can help it!" he
replied. "So who's Josh talkin' to over there anyway?"

Edward turned back toward the dance floor and saw that Charlotte was
introducing Josh to Mr. Bingley and to the man and woman who had joined
them. Josh seemed to have become uncharacteristically shy and was looking
down toward the floor as Mr. Bingley talked to him in a rather more
animated fashion.

"You must have heard Josh talk about Charles Bingley recently."

"So that's that Bingley dude." Brandon frowned. "Mr. B., can I ask you
something?"

"Of course, Brandon. What's up?"

"Josh and me, like we've been friends now for a while, ya know? And I
really like him and stuff? But it's like he doesn't know I exist
sometimes. I mean, what's wrong with me? Do I like have major body odor or
something?"

"Brandon! I'm sure there's nothing wrong with you. I've only really gotten
to know Josh over the last couple of years, but it's become apparent even
to me that he hears the beat of a different drummer. Do you understand?"

"You mean he's like into leather and chains and stuff? I mean, that's cool
with me."

"No, no! I was quoting Thoreau." Edward could see that Brandon was still
confused. "What I mean is that Josh seems to have priorities of his own
that aren't always apparent to other people. I wouldn't take it personally
if Josh hasn't responded to you the way you'd like him to."

"What does he see in that old guy, anyway? Look at the way he's making the
moves on Josh. It's disgusting!" Brandon was clearly displeased.

Edward looked over again to where Josh and Mr. Bingley were standing. Josh
had said something that Mr. Bingley responded to with uproarious
laughter. Mr. Bingley was clearly of the "touchy-feely" school and
punctuated his responses by gently squeezing Josh's shoulder or lightly
touching his arm. Edward and Brandon continued to watch the pantomime in
silence. Josh seemed to be teaching Mr. Bingley some of his dance moves.

"Mr. Bingley can't be more than ten years older than you, Brandon. Is that
so old?" Edward asked.

Brandon just frowned harder.

"Look, for some reason it was really important to Josh to be here and meet
Mr. Bingley. Now that he has, I suspect things will go back to the way
they've always been. Don't worry so much about it, okay? You're a nice
kid..."

"I'm not a kid!" Brandon interrupted.

"You're a nice young man, then. If things don't work out between you and
Josh, you'll meet someone else. That's the advantage of being young."
Edward had exhausted his "fatherly" advice. "By the way, I must have come
over here for a reason. Oh yes! Brandon, I'd like a glass of champagne for
Ms. Lucas, please."

By the time Edward was handed the champagne flute, he had Brandon smiling
again. Saying good-bye he scanned the crowd to see where Charlotte had
gotten. He spied her talking with Fergus Kenton under the tent and made his
way over to her through the crowd.

"Here's your drink, my dear."

"Edward! I'd just about given up on you. Fergus was telling me that not
only has Chaz Bingley pledged a substantial amount to City Opera, but his
friend Will D'Arcy has too."

At this point Edward and the always dapper Fergus greeted one another.

"It's great to see you here, Edward, but I must be off and begin mingling
again. These cows won't milk themselves!" And off Fergus went.

"So who's this Will D'Arcy?" Edward asked once Fergus had left.

"He's one of Chaz's two guests. He's talking with Chaz's sister,
Caroline--that blond over there." Edward recognized the man and woman he
had seen earlier.

Remembering his recent panic over whom he now knew to be Will D'Arcy,
Edward took the counter offensive, "Mr. D'Arcy is quite the stud, don't you
think? I know who'll be starring in my next wet dream!"

"Down, boy! Too much information!" Charlotte laughed. "Your dreamboat is
unfortunately a jerk of the first magnitude. Don't you know who he is?"
Edward's puzzled look was enough for her to continue. "Does Senator D'Arcy
ring a bell?"

"Isn't he one of those southern Senators?"

"Yes. South Carolina, to be exact. This is the same family--all descended
from Stanley D'Arcy, founder of Acme Oil. The Senator is Will D'Arcy's
uncle. Will keeps a very low profile, but he's one of the richest men in
the country."

"That doesn't make him a jerk, does it?"

"No, it doesn't, but it kind of explains why he thinks we're all lower than
pigeon shit here in St. Louis!"

"Charlotte! Such language!"

"I mean it, Edward. He hasn't had a kind word to say to anyone tonight--or
any word for that matter. Even Mrs. Acquaponte could only get one or two
words out of him at dinner, and that was to say that the veal was
tough--which it wasn't, by the way" Charlotte was defending her turf. "He's
spent the entire evening so far talking either with Chaz, his sister or
occasionally Fergus. I was surprised he said a whole sentence to Josh when
I introduced them."

The contrast between Charles Bingley and William D'Arcy was like night and
day. Mr. Bingley loved parties and thought the present one was one of the
best he'd ever been to. He'd never met such interesting, friendly people,
and although not a great dancer himself, was delighted to dance with many
of the women at the ball. He felt right at home. And indeed St. Louis was a
second home to him because his mother, a Bommarito by birth, had grown up
on the Hill, the Italian section of the city. He'd visited his grandparents
in St. Louis frequently as a youth. And now that he was opening up a series
of Italian restaurants, St. Louis seemed like the perfect location for one
of them as well as a place to set up residence.

Mr. D'Arcy, on the other hand, was bored out of his mind. Although
confident and aggressive in business situations, he felt ill at ease in
social ones. Accustomed to wealth and privilege since his birth in
Charleston, South Carolina, he was instilled with a sense of social
responsibility by his father, who also, however, taught him the necessity
of extreme caution when dealing with other people because of that
wealth. It was that sense of caution combined with his social diffidence
that prevented him from enjoying the present occasion. Whereas Mr. Bingley
was declared by everyone to be a "great guy" and a wonderful new asset to
the community, Mr. D'Arcy was universally disliked and heartily wished
somewhere else.

That two such men should have become friends seemed unlikely. Will D'Arcy
was six years older than Charles Bingley and had gone to work for his
father in New York City after his undergraduate years at Harvard
University. His father had divorced his mother when Will was twelve and had
started another family in Connecticut soon thereafter. Will had one
half-brother, Stan, from the second marriage and came to live with them
during his high school years. Five years after graduating from Harvard,
Will decided to go back there to get an advanced degree in business.

Charles Bingley and his sister grew up in a middle class family in Nutley,
New Jersey. Considered a computer geek in high school, he had gone on to
the Massachusetts Institute of Technology where his work on search engine
technology planted the seed for his future fortune. He, too, went on to
Harvard for an M.B.A., and it was there that he met Will D'Arcy.

The two men were immediately attracted to one another and soon became
lovers. Mr. Bingley's easy-going ways helped to loosen up Mr. D'Arcy's
cautious ones, and in return Mr. D'Arcy reigned in some of Mr. Bingley's
exuberance to the benefit of both. Unfortunately they were too much alike
sexually, both wanting to be the alpha male in the relationship. After two
years of trying to accommodate each other's needs, they decided that in
order to save their friendship, the physical aspects of their relationship
would have to be put aside. Their continuing closeness to one another,
however, made other intimate relationships a challenge.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The ball was getting on towards eleven o'clock. Although Edward had been
initially flustered by Mr. D'Arcy's strong sexual presence, he had managed
as usual to suppress this conflicted desire deeply within. Like
Mr. Bingley, he had asked a number of women to dance, and indeed, several
eager women had even asked him to dance as well. Feeling fatigued, he sat
down for a moment to catch his breath at one of the tables under the
tent. Standing a few tables away were Mr. Bingley and his sister with
Mr. D'Arcy, and Edward could just hear what they were saying.

"Are you going to spend the entire night hiding in the tent, Will?" said
Mr. Bingley.

His sister interrupted, "Chaz, that isn't fair! Leave poor Will alone. I
can barely stand it here myself. What a colossal bore! Could these people
be any stupider? Or full of themselves, for that matter... This was one of
the lamer things you've dragged us into."

"Hey, I can defend myself, Cari!" Mr. D'Arcy said laughing. He had a deep,
resonant voice with a soft southern accent that seemed intoxicating to
Edward. "You know what a social animal Charlie is."

"Billyboy, if you're not at least going to dance..." Mr. Bingley began.

"I did dance," Mr. D'Arcy protested.

"Yeah, one dance with Cari. Big deal!"

"I also danced with Charlotte what's-her-name."

"Okay, two dances then. But what I started to say was that you don't have
to stand around looking stupid." He held up his hand to prevent his friend
from interrupting him. "There are some very interesting men here to talk
with."

"You've found the only guy here worth 'talking' to," Mr. D'Arcy shot back.

"Yeah, Josh Bennett is a real sweet guy," Mr. Bingley said. Then with an
exaggerated tone of voice he continued, "I think I'm in love!"

"Cut it out, Chaz!" Ms. Bingley cried angrily. "I'm not letting you get
involved with some Gen-X slacker from the middle of nowhere."

 "As if you have any say in the matter!" Mr. Bingley laughed. "But, Will,
seriously, you could be having a lot more fun tonight if you'd just make
the effort. There's Josh's cousin sitting over there. He's a very funny guy
and seems to know a lot about opera. I think you'd enjoy talking with him."

Mr. D'Arcy looked over at Edward and catching his eye immediately turned
back to Mr. Bingley. "I'm sure he's a regular Conan O'Brien, but I didn't
come here to make the day of some old opera queen with a comb-over."

Ms. Bingley erupted in brittle laughter. Mr. Bingley started to protest and
take his friend to task for his cruel comment. Edward heard none of this,
however. After Mr. D'Arcy's remark, he had turned beet red and fled the
tent. Somehow finding his way to one of the men's rooms deep in the bowels
of the sports dome, he stood shaking in front of a mirror trying to pull
himself together.

Minutes passed, and when Edward had finally calmed down somewhat, he
splashed some cold water on his still warm cheeks. He heard the door burst
open, looked up into the mirror and saw Josh come in with a very worried
look on his face.

"Eddie, thank God you're here!" Josh shouted. "I've been searching for you
everywhere. Brandon said he saw you run out lookin' real sick or
something!"

"I'm fine, Josh, really." Seeing Josh's great agitation, Edward realized
how much he had overreacted to Mr. D'Arcy's comment. Why should he care
what Mr. D'Arcy thought about him? The whole thing seemed ridiculous in
retrospect and he began to bubble over with laughter. His laughing seemed
to upset Josh even more.

"Dude, I'm not sure you're fine at all! What's goin' on, Eddie?"

Edward finally stopped laughing long enough to explain what Mr. D'Arcy had
said about him and about his own overreaction.

"Well, I'm glad you can laugh about it, I guess," Josh said
uncertainly. "But what a shitty thing to say! You can't be any older than
him and you sure as shit don't have a comb-over."

The which was certainly true, since Edward kept his thinning hair cut too
short to comb over even if he had wanted to. What Edward didn't know was
that Mr. D'Arcy had been watching him on and off during the evening. At
first Mr. D'Arcy convinced himself that his scrutiny of Edward had just
been a way of killing time, but as he overheard snippets of conversation,
saw the man dancing, and all but laughed out loud at one of his remarks,
Mr. D'Arcy found himself drawn to him. Edward certainly wasn't handsome in
a conventional way, but his bright, intelligent eyes and easy demeanor were
strangely captivating. Feeling in danger of real attraction, Mr. D'Arcy put
the brakes on and resorted to caricature in order to put his friends off as
well as himself.

Edward was touched by Josh's concern for him and told him so. As they left
the men's room and found their way back to the arena, they spotted
Mr. D'Arcy talking with Charlotte's father, who as a major donor to City
Opera had sat at the head table.

"I can't believe that D'Arcy dude would say something like that, Eddie. He
was like really nice when he talked with me and Charlotte," Josh began.

"People like Mr. D'Arcy can turn it on and off, I'm sure, and remember, he
didn't know I could hear what he was saying. But let it go, Josh. He's not
worth getting bent out of shape for." Deciding a change of subject was in
order, Edward continued, "So you finally got to meet Chaz Bingley! How did
it go?"

In typical Josh fashion, he replied, "It was cool..."

"Just 'cool'?"

Josh was coloring and looking around uncomfortably. "C'mon, Eddie. Don't
embarrass me, 'kay? I'll tell you later."

Edward said no more, but smiled broadly as he thought to himself that Josh
had apparently done very well indeed. Josh went off to talk to Brandon, and
Edward decided to find Charlotte. He couldn't wait to tell her of his
recent adventures.

Under the tent, Charlotte's father was still talking with
Mr. D'Arcy. Mr. Lucas was a respectable older gentleman, who though never
really having had to make a living, fancied himself a rare and antique
bookseller. That more books ended up at the Lucas mansion on Lindell
Boulevard than actually left there in sales did not seem to bother anyone,
least of all Mr. Lucas. His real life's work was to be kind and generous to
everyone around him.

"I love to see the young people dancing. Don't you, Mr. D'Arcy?" Mr. Lucas
inquired.

Mr. D'Arcy just grunted.

"I suspect the Met must hold a lot of these fancy fundraisers. Do you do a
lot of dancing in New York, sir?"

"In New York, we prefer to leave the dancing to professionals," replied
Mr. D'Arcy, and then they both became alert to Edward walking by.

"Edward!" Mr. Lucas cried. "Have you met Mr. D'Arcy? Mr. D'Arcy, you must
meet my daughter Charlotte's friend, Edward Bennett. You two have a lot in
common, I think."

Mr. D'Arcy proffered his hand, and Edward was momentarily too startled not
to accept the handshake. Recovering quickly, he said with a sly smile,
"What a pleasure to meet you! I understand from Charlotte that you sit on
the board of the Metropolitan Opera. We must seem like pretty small
potatoes to you here in St. Louis."

Now it was Mr. D'Arcy's turn to be taken aback, but enjoying the challenge,
he countered, "You know quite a bit about opera, I bet."

"Oh heavens, don't get me started!" Edward replied. "You don't want to be
bored to death by an old opera queen like me!" Mr. D'Arcy colored. "Well, I
must be off. I see Mrs. Acquaponte coming this way and I need to avoid her
at all costs or she'll make me dance with her! Nice to meet you,
Mr. D'Arcy."

Edward walked quickly away, barely able to keep a straight face. From a
safe distance, he turned back and saw that Mrs. Acquaponte had cornered
Mr. D'Arcy and was dragging him onto the dance floor. Miles Owenby had
announced that this was to be the last waltz, and as the music began,
Edward watched Mr. D'Arcy expertly lead the "wizened old crone" around the
floor.

"Damn!" he thought. "Does this guy have to be good at everything?"

The digital time display on the scoreboard in the dome was showing 1:47
a.m., and Edward suddenly felt very tired. He looked around the arena for
Josh and spotted him back under tent talking with Mr. Bingley. Josh caught
his eye and motioned for him to come over.

"Hey, Eddie! Chaz has invited you, me 'n' Charlotte to the opening of his
restaurant on New Year's Eve! Isn't that wicked cool?" Josh beamed.

"That's very kind of you, Mr. Bingley!" Edward said with delight.

"Hey, please call me Chaz, Eddie. Mr. Bingley is my father."

Edward winced. No one called him "Eddie" except Josh and that was because
he couldn't stop him. Nevertheless, he was pleased for Josh that things
were going so well and let it go.

"Well then...Chaz. It's way past my bedtime and I'm afraid I'm going to
have to drag this miscreant here along with me, 'cause he's driving. It was
a real pleasure to meet you, and I'm looking forward to seeing your
restaurant!"

Goodbyes were said, handshakes were made, and Josh even got a hug from
Mr. Bingley that lingered perhaps a bit too long. Josh and Edward then
sought out Charlotte to bid her farewell, too, after which they joined the
crowd making their way out of the dome to the parking lot and thence home
and to bed.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

To be continued ...

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