Staying Power Book 14 in the Action! Series (21 page)

"Just got news." Carl sat beside Keith and
began wiping the makeup off his face as well.

"And?"

"Alexander was offered a starring role in a
George Ford film."

Keith froze mid-wipe, trying to digest it.
"Rumor?"

"Heard it from Charlotte, so…no." Leaning
closer to the mirror, Carl wiped off more makeup.

Keith slouched in the seat and stared at
himself. "What the fuck?"

"Huh?" Carl glanced at him, continuing to
clean his face.

In frustration, Keith threw the makeup
towelette on the counter in front of him and slouched in the
chair.

"Keith?" Carl touched his arm.

"You know how long we've been doing this
fucking show?" Keith said, meeting Carl's green eyes in the
mirror.

"Don't be jealous. Be happy for the kid."

"He goes from that stupid twenty-something
vampire show to a major motion picture with the hottest director in
Hollywood, and I'm not supposed to be jealous?"

"Keith. Come on." Carl finished wiping his
face and stood to use the sink, and soap and water to get the
residual off.

"Did Adam get him that role?"

"I didn't ask. I assume so." Carl splashed
his face.

Keith crossed his arms. "Is he even looking
at films for us?"

"Keith! Cut it out." Carl dried his face on a
towel and gave his husband a weary look.

"No. Seriously, Carl." Keith stood up and
made Carl look at him, grabbing his upper arms. "We've been stuck
in this fucking rut for years. Adam warned us not to come out
because we'd never get work in anything major, and look." Keith
gestured to the area behind the wall of their private room. "Out,
gay, Alexander Richfield gets a movie role?"

"Jesus, Keith. I never would have mentioned
it if I knew I'd get this kind of reaction from you." Carl moved
away from his grip and brushed his brown, conservatively cut hair,
standing in front of the mirror.

Keith washed at the sink, trying not to
become irrational. Once he had dried off his hands and face, he dug
his phone out of his pocket. Carl stood by, watching him.

"Keith, hello."

"Hi Natalie. Is Adam available?"

"He's on the phone. You can hold or he can
call you back."

Keith wasn't feeling patient for either.
"Hey, what's the word on Alex getting that film part?"

"Oh. I guess Ford's daughter has the hots for
Alex. So when the script was accepted, she mentioned Alex to her
dad."

Keith's jaw dropped. "Are you shitting
me?"

"Nope. She's daddy's little girl. Sounds like
that kid has her future made. Bet she becomes the next A-List
director in Hollywood."

"How old is she?" Keith looked at Carl who
was obviously trying to figure out what was being said.

"Fourteen! Ha. Shit, wish I had a rich dad.
No such luck."

"Fuck. So, Adam didn't find Alex that
part?"

"No. He didn't. The part found Alex…oh. Why?
You…" Natalie changed her jovial tone and said, "Keith, Adam works
really hard for all his clients. If a movie role came up that he
thought you should audition for…"

"Okay. Okay, Natalie," Keith held up his hand
as he spoke, stopping her, but of course the gesture was not seen
by anyone but Carl. "Thanks. I guess I had the idea that Alex was
getting special treatment because Adam fucks Mark."

"Oh, God no. If anything, it's the opposite.
Adam works like a dog for everyone else so there is no favoritism.
Adam just asked me to hire someone. I think really we are just so
overwhelmed we need another body in here to keep scanning the
audition sites."

"Okay. I appreciate the information,
Nat."

"Look, Keith, I'll tell Adam you really want
a movie role. He actually thinks because this happened to Alex he
may have more clout in Hollywood films, and get a little more work
outside TV."

Keith nodded.

Natalie asked, "You there?"

"I'm nodding." Keith met Carl's eyes and his
anger completely deflated.

"I will have Adam call you back, Keith."

"It's not necessary now."

"I think it is."

"Okay. Thanks." Keith hung up and stared at
Carl.

"Well?"

"Adam had nothing to do with it. Ford's
daughter wanted Alex, so daddy went and got him."

"Holy shit." Carl ran his hand over his hair.
"Well, you can't blame Adam any longer."

"Nope." Keith pocketed his phone and looked
in the mirror, running a brush over his hair. "I need a drink."

"Ditto. Let's go." Carl made sure he had his
possessions and his jacket and opened the door.

As he and Carl left the studio, which was in
the same building as the filming of Being Screwed, Keith spotted a
group of very young actors and actresses, all laughing and texting
on their mobile phones. Keith felt as if being in his thirties, he
and Carl had missed the boat for any kind of movie career. He
shouldn't complain. At least he and Carl had steady work in their
highly acclaimed, award winning drama. Many actors were on the
breadlines.

Carl asked softly, "Wanna see if Alex is
there? Congratulate him?"

Keith knew he should, especially now that he
knew Alex had not gotten preferential treatment from Adam.
"Sure."

He and Carl walked up to the chatty crowd of
Being Screwed and a few of the youngest crew members actually gave
them a bored look, as if they were soooo old! They didn't even have
their handheld electronics in their palms!

Carl asked, no one in particular, "Where's
Alex?"

One of the cast members who had been on the
show longer than the rest, Santiago, said, "I think he's done for
the day. Check his dressing room."

"Thanks." Carl walked with Keith down a hall
to Alex's changing room and tapped the door. "Alex?"

"It's open!"

Carl turned the knob and stepped inside. The
room was smaller than Keith and Carl's changing room, but similar
in clutter with the basics of a mirror, sink and wardrobe
cabinet.

"Carl! Keith!" Alex hopped to his feet for a
warm hug and kiss.

All Keith's bad feelings left instantly with
Alex's affectionate demeanor. Keith held him and smiled. "A little
birdie told us you hit the jackpot."

Alex lowered his eyes and smiled.

"I am very proud of you," Keith said, and he
did mean it.

"You guys deserve it. Not me. Shit. You two
have been at this game nearly twice as long as I have."

Carl said, "It's not about that. It's about
luck, timing, and well…having the director's daughter have a crush
on you."

Alex cracked up and his cheeks went bright
red. "I know, right? I couldn't get there on merit. I had to be a
teen idol."

Keith caressed Alex's hair back from his
eyes. "Babe, however you can get there, do it."

"Thanks, guys." Alex reached for them and
they fell into a group hug.

Carl purred comically. "Mm, a three-way with
the newest rising star."

Alex broke up with laughter and shook his
head. "Oh God. Billy would seriously have a fit."

Keith caressed Alex's smooth jaw. "Billy is
one lucky guy."

"I wish you two could be in the film, too.
Come with me. I'm going to Rome…on my own."

"On your own?" Carl smiled sweetly. "Babe,
when George Ford makes a film? There are thousands of cast and crew
members."

"No. I mean…" Alex pouted. "I won't know
anyone. Can't you guys audition for some of the smaller roles?"

"Don't we wish." Keith blew out a breath.

"Well, ask Adam. I'm in. Why can't you guys
get in?"

"What's the story about?" Carl crossed his
arms over his chest and sat down on a folding chair.

Keith's mind began racing with the
possibilities, but he knew he and Carl would never have a chance at
a big Hollywood production with their skimpy TV resume.

"It's called Bedtime Stories and is about an
international spy who falls for an Italian street musician."

"And you're the musician?" Carl asked.

"Yeah. Gotta learn the accent. And…probably
speak a little of the language."

"Hey, for a smart guy like you?" Carl teased,
"No problemo."

Keith asked, "Do you have a copy of the
script?"

"I do, but I can't show it to anyone. You
know." Alex ran his hand through his hair. "Oh! Billy got promoted
to captain!"

"Wow." Carl stood up and stuffed his hands
into his jeans pockets. "He's another one climbing high. The two of
you will be having a contest to see who gets to the top first."

Keith smiled. "A gay chief of police in LA?
Are you kidding? Never gonna happen."

"May already have. Just not an openly gay
man." Carl grinned.

Alex's mobile ringtone sounded. He looked at
the phone. "Oh. That's him right now."

"His ears must have been burning," Carl said,
smirking.

The minute Alex answered both Carl and Keith
said in harmony, "Congratulations, Captain Sharpe!"

Alex held out the phone so Billy could
hear.

Keith smiled when he heard Billy's laughter.
Alex put him on speaker phone. "It's Keith and Carl, Billy," Alex
said, holding up the phone.

Keith looked at the cell phone and asked,
"Why don't you two have phones so you can see each other? Hello?
What century are you living in?"

"Because," Billy said, "If I could see him on
my phone, I'd never get any work done!"

Carl said, "I hear ya. Well, congrats, Billy.
We're both very proud of you."

"And Alex!" Keith added. "Your hubby is
really going places."

"Yeah, Rome!" Billy yelled through the phone.
"I don't have a leash that long!"

Keith laughed and Alex said, "You don't need
one."

Carl kissed Alex's cheek. "Keep in touch. Let
us know if you need anything."

"Thanks."

Keith kissed Alex as well and they waved as
they walked out of his dressing room. Carl bumped Keith with his
shoulder. "Feel better now?"

"I feel like I want to see if there are any
minor roles in that fucking movie." He took out his phone and
dialed Adam again.

"Okay, but don't get your hopes up." Carl
walked alongside Keith down the hall.

Adam answered the phone, "Keith? I was going
to call you. Natalie said you called."

"Yes, hey, Adam, can you search the casting
calls for that production Alex is on? See if there are any minor
roles for us?"

"You'd do a bit part?"

"Not a background part!" Keith shook his head
at Carl as they walked to the exit of the studio. "Something minor,
but it has to be a speaking role. Just look. Can you at least
try?"

"Of course! Let me look right now while
you're on the line."

Carl asked, "Ya gonna play a waiter?"

"Shut up." Keith elbowed him and they both
walked outside to their car in the parking lot.

Steve sat with Mark on the sofa at Dr Van
Eldon's office waiting room. It was three pm, and Steve figured if
he was going to take off from work early, he'd rather be out
running than sitting in a stuffy psychiatrist's office. But since
this was his idea, he was obligated to go.

Mark relaxed beside him, his leg crossed,
holding it at the ankle, while Steve loosened his tie. He spotted a
magazine, picked it up, and thumbed through it. In the center was a
two page ad, Mark in the luxury car, tight white stretch pants,
topless, with a hard-on. Steve nudged him.

Mark looked at it and rolled his eyes, then
stared into space, or maybe at a landscape painting on the
wall.

"What are we supposed to talk about?" Steve
asked, inspecting Mark's cock in the ad, knowing it was in fact a
dildo.

"I don't know. Look, Steven, it was your
notion to come here in the first place."

"I just can't believe this guy is charging
you three hundred an hour and you're still really messed up."

Mark sat upright and glared at him. "Messed
up? Am I? Really?"

The door opened and Dr Van Eldon leaned out.
"I'm ready for you now."

Mark stood up abruptly and entered the room.
Steve tossed the magazine on a table and got up off the sofa,
walking into the large open office. Mark was fuming, arms crossed,
his back facing both Steve and the doctor.

Dr Van Eldon sat down, a pad on his lap.

Steve noticed two bottles of water on the low
coffee table so he picked one up and dropped to sit on the hard
sofa, leaning on the arm as he twisted the cap.

"Mark?" the doctor asked.

"He called me, 'messed up'!"

Steve gulped the water and wiped his mouth.
"Poor choice of words."

"Ya think?" Mark glared at him.

"Mark, please sit down." Dr Van Eldon
gestured to the sofa.

Mark sat as far as he could away from Steve
and his body language said it all, leg crossed, elbow on the arm of
the couch, looking away from Steve's direction.

"This was exactly what we discussed in the
last session. Why did you say that, Steven?" The doctor's voice was
calm.

"I didn't mean it that way." Steve slouched
over his knees, holding the bottle in both hands. "I just mean,
he's been seeing you for decades and doesn't seem to be getting
anywhere."

"Piss off!" Mark folded his arms.

"Where do you want Mark to be?" the doctor
asked Steve.

"I don't know. Off valium? Not starving for
shoots? Aware that no matter how old he is, he will still be loved,
beautiful, and mine?"

Mark snatched his bottle of water from the
table and didn't look at anyone as he drank from it.

"Does this have anything to do with him
having his birthday yesterday?"

"No!" Steve replied loudly. "We did nothing.
None of us acknowledge it. See?" He pointed to Mark. "Didn't
help."

"You think this is constructive?" Mark
narrowed his eyes at Steve. "You think coming here to demean me is
helping? You did this last time as well. I'm not happy about
this."