Krewe Daddy (26 page)

He stopped at the dining room table. Not to be out-done in the game of cryptic messages, he simply wrote:
Be back later. L.

* * * * *

Luis nodded to the bouncer when he crossed the threshold at Tanners.

"It's been awhile, Luis."

"Too long." Luis made his way to the bar. He shrugged off his vest and out of his T-shirt, before ordering a tall Jack and Coke. He stuffed the hem of his shirt in his back pocket, and hoped it would be there when he left.

While he was putting on his vest again, a familiar voice caught his ear.

The bartender put his drink on the rail. "Four-fifty."

Luis gave him a five spot and picked up his glass. A fire smoldered in his gut as he made his way around the crowded bar.

He stood behind a man wearing a black wig.

"How's it going, doll face?" He'd chosen a condescending tone on purpose.

Ronnie swung around, a few strands of his shoulder-length wig catching on his beard. He arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Well, if it's not the Daddy."

A smirk lifted the corner of Ronnie's painted lips.

Luis launched his attack. "How could you pull that devious bullshit behind my back, and call our CEO to get me on your float? You knew I was going to Minnesota, and that Drew isn't ready to travel alone."

"It's business, sweetheart, plain and simple. The Flamin' Dames pumped a nice lump of cash into Magik Studios
and
your pockets this year." He pointed at Luis' chest to emphasize his point. "You know the designer always rides the float in the inaugural parade."

"The float's inaugural parade was last year." Luis gritted his teeth, trying to keep his temper in check. He took a long pull of his drink, and then signaled to the bartender to make him another.

"As your CEO explained, the changes are so significant that Aphrodite looks like a brand new creation. We have fabulous new costumes, too. Fair's fair, my love."

"Don't call me that."

Ronnie ran his index finger down Luis' chest. His eyes smoldered with wicked intent. He grasped the edge of Luis' vest, pulling him close enough for Luis to smell the cognac on Ronnie's breath.

"We could go in back and get reacquainted. Perhaps if you do an enthusiastic job, I'll recant, and you can go off to frozen la-la-land with your beloved." Ronnie's smile matched his sickening-sweet tone.

Slapping the cross-dressing bitch was out of the question. Ronnie had a vindictive streak. An assault of any type at this point would cost him, professionally and personally. Luis guzzled the rest of his drink before paying the bartender for a fresh one.

"I'll be there. I honor my commitments, but you'll be needing a new Krewe Daddy. When your parade is over, I'm off the account."

Luis took his drink and walked into the back room. Although the pool tables were more often used for a pickup opportunity than a serious game, tonight Luis wanted to play. And play he did. Always very good with the stick, he sank one ball after another, along with his pool-playing victims, who probably hoped they'd still come out a winner in a different way. Blowjobs were a frequent fee for a loss. Luis also fended off the advances of other guys in the room, and pounded down the Jack and Cokes.

A few hours later, he'd had his fill for the night. Luis reeked of sweat, booze, and of every guy who'd pawed him tonight. All the alcohol he'd consumed gave him a serious buzz. A few steps into the main bar, Luis knew he couldn't drive.

"Need a ride home?"

Luis turned to see Ronnie standing behind him. All evening long, he'd been hovering, and Luis had deliberately ignored him. Well, except for the provocative way he'd spread his legs and shifted his ass to take a shot every time his back was to Ronnie.

He definitely wanted to make Ronnie pay for his manipulations, even if the price was only an aching hard-on. Luis knew exactly how to work that game, too.

Even in his inebriated state, Luis smelled trouble. "No thanks. I'll call a cab."

Ronnie grabbed the keys from Luis' hand. "Don't be an idiot. I'll drive you."

"I'd be the idiot if I let you." He reached for his keys, and not only did he miss, he stumbled. The full effect of the booze hit him hard. "I don't trust you as far as I can throw you."

His words slurred, and he poked Ronnie's shoulder with his index finger. "And right now, that's not very far. Give me my keys. I'm calling a cab."

Ronnie glared at him.

"Fuck that, I'll get the keys another time." Luis took out his cell phone. It clattered on the floor. "Son-of-a-mother-fucking-bitch."

He leaned down to pick it up, swaying as he went.

Ronnie interceded, picking up the phone, and grabbing Luis' arm to steady him.

He dropped his falsetto. "Let's get you out of here before something happens that shouldn't. I'll get you home safely, and we'll call it even."

Luis couldn't focus well enough on Ronnie's words to discern whether he was telling the truth. His mouth felt like it was coated in paste; his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He hadn't gotten this wasted in a long time. Too drunk to argue, Luis agreed.

"Drive me home and that's all. You can call a cab from the parking garage."

* * * * *

Luis stared out the window while Ronnie drove. Streetlights and taillights looked blurry and made his head spin. He closed his eyes to avoid the inevitable—

throwing up—and cursed himself for letting his guard down.

When they arrived in the parking garage of Luis' building, Ronnie helped him from the car. He threw his arm under Luis' to steady him.

"I'll get you upstairs. If I don't, they'll probably find you passed out in the elevator."

Too wasted and tired to argue, Luis nodded. He leaned against the wall like a mannequin for the ride up. His stomach rolled when the car lurched to a stop.

They left the elevator and walked down the hall. Luis focused all his energy on making his feet take as straight a path as possible. His legs acted like rubber bands.

Even in his inebriated state, he knew he was staggering like an exhausted bull.

The security guard outside his door stood up. "Late night, Luis?"

He merely nodded.

"Let me help you with those keys, Miss."

Ronnie giggled, his falsetto back in full force.

The security team knew that Drew and Luis were gay, but chagrin filled Luis when he thought of what they must be thinking of this performance.
Tomorrow is going
to be a long day. I just hope Drew is in bed, asleep.

* * * * *

The key hitting the door lock awakened Drew. He got out of his recliner, nervous as hell about seeing Luis. He'd given up on being angry hours ago; he just wanted him home.

"Luis?"

The door swung open to reveal Ronnie, his wig askew, and Luis half-draped over him.

At any other time, with anyone else, the scene might have been laughable. Not tonight. "Jesus Christ, what in the hell happened?"

Luis gave him a sloppy smile. "I'm home, dear, did you mmm . . . miss me?"

Ronnie followed up with a sour expression that matched his peeved tone. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Drew. We're just friends."

Resist as he might, Drew's temper flared. "Friends with benefits still, Ronnie?"

He narrowed his eyes at Drew. "You are such a fool. Let's get him into bed."

Luis raised his hand. "I want to go to bed. We'll talk in the morning. You coming, Ronnie?"

His words slurred, his gait just as uneven, Luis stopped in the middle of the living room. Swaying on his feet, he seemed to realize his mistake. "I mean Drew. Put me to bed, Drew."

Drew hesitated. He had two choices: act like a man, or a jealous lover, for the second time that evening. He glared at Ronnie. "Thanks for bringing him home safely.

Now get out."

"Like I said, you're such a fool."

Drew slung Luis' arm over his shoulder, and hoped they could navigate without falling.

Ronnie got on the other side of Luis. "Oh for fuck's sake, let me help you before you hurt yourselves."

Drew didn't argue. Getting a rubbery Luis down the narrow hallway was a challenge. He shuddered over the idea of letting Ronnie back into Luis' bedroom.

Knowing they'd slept in the same bed many nights together, too, Drew made a note to buy a new bed.

They poured Luis onto the mattress. He landed with all the grace of a seal on a patch of arctic ice.

As much as he detested the idea of having to say it, he did. "I can take it from here, Ronnie, thanks."

"I'll see myself out."

Drew didn't look backward.

Soft snores were already coming from Luis. He wasn't wearing a shirt. Judging from the smell and the condition he was in, Drew surmised he'd been at Tanners. He unlaced the boots and tugged them off Luis' feet. The dead weight of his legs challenged the strength in Drew's right arm. He didn't bother with Luis' pants. Drew knew he couldn't negotiate them off the sleeping man's body. Afterward, he pulled the sheet over Luis, and went to the guest room for the night.

* * * * *

Drew spent a restless night alone. The morning passed as slow as a turtle in a hundred-yard dash. He heard Luis get up several times to do hangover kinds of things in the bathroom, and waited for him to rejoin the living. A big part of Drew hoped his head exploded and he'd puke his guts up until dinnertime. The rest of him felt bad that he'd probably been the reason Luis got so hammered.

Luis almost had to hang onto the carpet to keep from falling off the face of the Earth last
night.

He flipped through the television channels and finally settled on a football game.

Might as well watch the Saints hand Minnesota their ass again.
The memory of that play-off game always made Drew smile. He sat back, hoping for a repeat performance.

Around halftime, the bedroom door opened. Drew twisted around to see if Luis was trekking across the hall again or not.

"Hey."

You look like hell.
"Are you going to live?"

His face ashen, and his eyes looking like two piss holes in the snow, Luis shrugged, and went to the kitchen. He leaned against the kitchen counter on one hand, while reaching for a glass out of the cupboard.

Drew had been in that drunken-alien-in-my-body spot many times.
Best not to
poke the bear.
Ice clattered into Luis' glass, followed by water. Drew tuned back into the football game.

The shuffling of his slippers on the floor made Drew give Luis his full attention.

"Would you please turn that off? We need to talk." Luis voice sounded like he was chewing gravel.

Drew turned off the game.

Luis sat on the couch. "What the hell happened last night?"

"You got blasted. Totally schnockered. Commode hugging drunk. Ronnie brought you home."

Luis rubbed his face. "That's what I thought. What else?"

"You asked Ronnie to put you to bed."

Groaning like he had an abscessed tooth, Luis leaned back against the couch.

"Did he?"

"I may have acted like a jealous lover earlier in the evening, but I wasn't going to just hand you over." Drew paused. "He helped me. You were so unsteady on your feet. I think Ronnie knew I'd be in trouble if you fell on me."

Luis glanced at Drew, a disgusted look on his face. "I don't remember any of that.

I don't know what possessed me . . . ."

"You don't?"

Turning the proverbial shade of ready-to-throw-up green, Luis rubbed his temples. "Don't shout. I'm right here." He took a few deep breaths, and the normal color of his face returned. "I didn't go out with the intention of getting sloshed. I just wanted to get out of the house. And by the way, where did you go, and why didn't you take your phone?"

"I went shopping. It's been months since I could leave here without a Fort Knox security detail on me. I wanted to surprise you and . . . apologize. I slid back into old, reactive behaviors when you told me about Ronnie yesterday."

Luis massaged his temples some more. "So why didn't you pack your bags and leave last night when he brought me home? To be honest, Drew, I don't think I slept with him, but I could have. Everything that happened after we left the bar is sketchy."

Drew closed his eyes, his chest tight with anxiety. "I don't think you did." He looked at Luis. "First of all, you were so polluted, you could barely walk. And secondly, I think if that had happened, Ronnie would have shoved my face in it. He acted decent toward me, and when I insinuated that maybe something had gone on, he said I was a fool."

"I'll ask him. He'll tell me the truth." Luis looked like a hung dog. "I'm very sorry.

I had no idea he'd be at Tanners. I do remember telling him how mad I was about being forced to ride in their parade. I told him that after that day, I'll be off the Flamin' Dames'

account. My days as their Krewe Daddy are finished."

Relief washed through Drew. "You've done so many things for me, but this has to top them all."

He leaned toward Luis and wrapped his arms around him.

Luis rested his head against Drew's shoulder. "Don't squeeze too hard. I might break or puke."

"I love you. I'm sorry for my behavior. It won't happen again."

"I hope so, because I'm getting too old to abuse my liver the way a teenager does.

And I love you, too. I'd kiss you, but I think that I taste pretty disgusting."

"Your breath could peel paint."

Luis' body shook with quiet laughter. "Don't make me laugh. My head will pop off."

Chapter Twenty-Four

Two weeks later, Luis pulled up to the airport with Drew. He went to get Drew's suitcase from the trunk.

Drew took it from him, anxiety etched on his face like the lines between concrete masonry blocks.

"You're going to be fine. Blair will meet you in Minneapolis, and stay with you the whole weekend."

"I know." Drew looked around, the memories flooding back of what had happened to him the last time he left Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport.

Luis raised his chin with his knuckle. "Don't go there. The past is gone. Look forward. You're going to have a fantastic weekend with your friends. Call me, and we'll have hot phone sex when Blair isn't around." He hugged Drew. "I'll miss you. I wish I could be there. I'll be waiting here for you to come back."