PHOTO - Mike at Veronica's Secrets

**

The rest of Mike's first day of work at the agency seemed to fly by. He was kept busy every minute and thoroughly enjoyed it all. Everyone was friendly and companionable and, in addition to that, interesting. It was easy to see how Ronnie, being friend, confidant, and mother hen to the others, set the mood and pace for an enjoyable setting where they obviously did a lot of impressive and important work.

In a staging room, Adam applied light makeup to Mike's face and Reece took a series of short- sequence video shots in front of a green screen. Mike did exactly what he had done in his unexpected and unrehearsed presentation - he smiled at the camera, pulled off his suit jacket, flung it over his shoulder and pointed at his shirt that stated I AM NEW YORK. He added an especially high-voltage smile, put the suit jacket back on, and then grinned downward a little, exactly where the crowds on Times Square would be looking up at him.

With his software, Reece would add an image of the Empire State Building and the bottle of Empire cologne to the take that would be used for the video billboard ad. Mike also posed for a series of head shots and full-body photographs for advertising purposes, some shirtless and only in underwear, and he reveled in the good feeling it gave him to do all this important work in his dad's vintage suit, and out of it too.

Reece's and Adam's hands were all over him as they worked and it was amusing Mike, not annoying him, how much they were touching him when he knew they really didn't have to. Not that much. He felt so different about it than he had yesterday. Reece was gentler, not so obvious in his pulling and grabbing as Adam was in helping Mike pose and kept touching up his makeup.

Reece just had to bust Adam's balls. "Mike's gonna be sore by the time he gets home tonight if you don't let up."

Adam beamed a smile at both of them. "It's part of the job, dude. And nothing could hurt him anyway. He's built like a brick wall. I'm looking forward to doing Shirtless with you at Saks and Abercrombie, Mike. Then I get to apply make-up on your chest and abs and back and ..."

"He gets the idea," Reece cut in, getting a little testy. "Don't work him over, man. He's only been here a few hours. You'll scare him off and he won't come back."

But Mike just laughed at them. He felt comfortable and at home and surrounded by like-minded friends, and he could hardly believe the good fortune that had come his way here at Veronica's Secrets.

Having completed that part of the job, Mike and Reece went to a nearby deli for a quick lunch, over which the camera man talked a lot about the business and the agency itself, giving Mike a good idea of what to expect. When they got back up to the office the Amedeo soccer outfits had arrived from Saks, and also three male models to help wear them. Chet and Key would also be in the group video, and they all changed into the new clothes.

Shoes and socks were also provided and, when ready, the six models and Reece and Adam hauled equipment down a service elevator to the garage on the ground floor where the agency's two vans were parked. They loaded the vans and split up into two groups, Mike sticking with Reece and Adam and one of the new arrivals, and they drove up to Central Park. Mike knew the park well and directed them to the Rumsey Playfield where there were lined fields, bleachers, and refreshments stands, everything they'd need to film a realistic video of soccer playing.

The day had turned out to be warm and sunny and the park was filled with New Yorkers out to enjoy the spring weather. Eight such good-looking young men with video equipment and two vans marked Veronica's Secrets on the sides would certainly not get away without attracting attention, and a crowd began to form as Adam was touching up the handsome faces of the models. The crew spent a couple hours filming various formations, maneuvers, and solo actions. The one Reece said looked the best was when all five of the other models had charged at Mike from various positions and, after he had kicked the ball, picked him up off the ground and raised him to their shoulders as if in victory. Reece felt confident that Ronnie would choose that one. Also, a series of additional posed photographs were taken for other related advertising needs.

Mike hadn't known work could be so enjoyable. It was like being back in high school playing with his old soccer team in Central Park. And the idea of his being up on that video billboard in Times Square, where everyone could see him, was totally awesome. He knew he'd have to see it first to actually believe it. It's not that he didn't have a grandiose imagination. He'd just spent the last year writing three books about space wars on a hostile planet and its three moons in a distant galaxy. But that, for him, was easy to imagine. He himself, sixty feet tall on Times Square ... nah, his wild imagination had never taken that kind of leap.

Then later on, back downtown, Mike had to fill out employment papers with Audra in one of the private rooms. He knew they could have done it in the reception room, but she boldly flirted with him and he figured she'd taken him in there just to get him alone. She was very sexy and her come-on didn't fail to affect him as she obviously intended, but he just played it cool and tried to remain friendly and take it all in stride. He'd never made love to a black girl, certainly not an Asian-looking one with blue eyes, and it's not that he wasn't interested, he just didn't want to start fucking his fellow employees on the first day of work.

And then there was Jax, wherever she was, whatever she was doing, and he felt bound to her now, wanted to be bound to her now. Audra wasn't very happy when he left the office without having made a responding move, but he figured he couldn't please everybody all the time.

After work he stopped at a waxing studio in his neighborhood and got a complete body wax. He didn't have to go to the office tomorrow but on Wednesday he'd be doing Shirtless at Saks for Amedeo, right at the Fifth Avenue store, and no chest or armpit hair allowed. The process took longer than he expected, and when he finally got home it was almost eight o'clock. He had turned off his cell phone in the studio because he was pretty much just lying there naked, being worked on by a dish of a Brazilian girl and her male assistant, who was almost as pretty. Talk about embarrassing, what they were doing to him, and the difficulty in not getting aroused. So when he finally plopped down on the couch in his den, he turned the phone back on and it began to jabber at him with notices.

The first one he checked was Giorgio, saying, "Hey, where are you? Call me, Mike. I'm ... oh ... just call me, dammit!"

Mike did, figuring the other calls were from Giorgio too, and his cousin answered on the first ring, saying, "Dude, where the hell ya been?"

Mike stifled a yawn. "I worked all day, G. Then went to get waxed. I just got home. Are you okay? Is Jax all right? You sound pissed off."

"Jax is fine. I stopped over her place about an hour ago. She started work, too, and had a real good day. Don't worry about her. She's doing good."

But Mike could tell by the tone of Giorgio's voice that he himself was not.

"What the fuck's wrong? Tell me about it."

He heard a deep sigh, then, "Aw ... shit! I ... oh cripes ... I'm at the pizza shop and there's ears everywhere here. Let me go out back to the alley." Mike heard a series of noises as Giorgio walked down the back hall and opened and closed the doors. Then, "Dammit Mike, Eric called me earlier when I was at Columbia and broke off our relationship."

Mike felt a stab at his heart, and he sucked in a shocked breath. 'Aw shit' was right. And, of course, he figured it was all his fault. "Dude! I'm sorry. Fuck, I was such a creep to him. Maybe if I talk to him about it? I know I was a total dick. I won't be like that anymore. I can promise him."

Giorgio sighed again, wearily. "It's not that, Mike. He loves it when straight guys hound him. He's militant and he likes to fight. He wasn't mad about that. He loves you. He thinks you're the greatest thing in the world. It's us, Mike. Me and you. He says I'll never love another guy as much as I love you, and he's probably right. He doesn't want to be the third person in our relationship, yours and mine."

Mike groaned. "Yah, he told me that too. He wants to be the number one person in his lover's life. Damn! I had a really good day, but now I want to go jump off the fuckin' roof terrace."

"It's not your fault, bro. It's just us, the way we are. Maybe a different guy wouldn't mind it, knowing we've had a whole life together and have seldom been apart. But it bothers Eric, and I really don't blame him."

"But you two make such a cool couple. I was just so crazy jealous. I can't even believe it now that I felt that way. I ..."

"Stop blaming yourself," Giorgio interrupted him. "If you'd been all over him, too, like he was with you, the outcome would've been the same. He knows me, he saw us together, he got to know you. He gets us. And that did it. Hey, it's not like I was gonna marry him."

"Well who are you gonna marry if you can't love another man more than me?" Mike asked in frustration.

"You really want me to marry a man?" Giorgio asked, surprise in his voice.

"Yes. I'm supposed to be your best man, like you're gonna be mine. We're supposed to be coombars. Officially."

There was a moment's silence, then Giorgio said, almost in a whisper, "You'd really be my best man if I married a man?"

Mike could tell Giorgio was feeling bad about this now, by the catch in his voice.

"Yes, I will."

"My own mother wouldn't come to that wedding, but you will?"

"Stop it, G. You know I will. I'll marry Jax and you'll be my best man. And we'll find a dude for you to marry and I'll be yours. We'll do it, bro, and nobody or nothing will stop us. Your mom might not want to come to the wedding, but you know damn well she'll have to cater it, at least. No way she's gonna let somebody else cook the food!"

Giorgio snorted a laugh. "Thanks, Mike. It means a lot to hear that." He paused a couple seconds, then, "I think I'm coming over for the night, okay?"

"Yah, come over. I told you, come over here and live. It's as much your house as it is mine. I never told you, because my dad doesn't want me to, but screw that. You're in his will too. There's a bunch of millions for you if he dies. Like a hundred, I think. And half this house goes to you."

"Jeezus! No shit?"

"No shit, bro. It's yours too. Every freakin' piece of fluff and frill. And all the art pieces the Met is dying to get its hands on. Especially the Monet water lilies in the fourth floor sitting room."

"Yow. I guess that makes me feel better about things, huh?" Giorgio said. "Of course, we hope your dad lives to be a hundred, at least, don't we?"

"Yes, at least, because he'll just keep making tons more money. We're lucky. We've got a lot to be happy about. We'll just have to figure out the bad parts as we go along. Okay?"

"All right, dude. I'll see you later when I'm done here at the pizza shop. I love you, Mike."

"I love you, G. Catch you later."

Mike put the phone down on the end table and switched on the lamp. He felt a distinct sense of loss because he'd grown to like Eric and had expected him to be around. And he still felt responsible for the breakup. He had that incredibly anxious feeling when you want to just turn back time and make the awful thing that happened unhappen. Undo it somehow. But he knew there wasn't a fucking thing that could be done about it.

Nothing.

He got up and went into the galley and got a beer out of the fridge. He popped the top and took a slug, wanting to go downstairs to the bar on the third floor and get something stronger. He never kept liquor up here because he didn't drink much. But he sure felt like it now. He looked out the back window at the spring twilight. There wasn't much of a view, just the apartments in back, the patio down below, and the museum gardens to the side and the museum itself in front of them. He could hear Fifth Avenue but could not see it, just the tree tops in Central Park across the way.

Damn, he hated this feeling of wanting to go back in time to change something. If only he hadn't been such a dick! He'd acted like the quintessential straight bigot he'd always prided himself on not being. Then he remembered his presentation at the agency this morning, his success at winning the others over, and the fact that next week he was going to be three hundred feet up there overlooking all of Times Square, the fucking Crossroads of the World. He wasn't perfect, he knew that, nobody was. But at least now he was on his way going everywhere, like his dad had done, and he sure wasn't going to let himself, of all people, stop him.

"So you made a stupid mistake, dude," he growled at himself. "All right. Okay. Just don't fuckin' do it again!"

He went into his bedroom and changed into a set of sweats for the night. He took out a set for Giorgio because he knew he'd come right up here and not go down to his own room on the fifth floor. He hung the white suit and black shirt in his closet and went back out to the den and got down on the carpet and did his one thousand crunches for the day. Then he hit the couch and sprawled back down with his beer, watching CNN to keep his mind from running wild on crazy thoughts about the last couple days.

He didn't bother to eat because he knew Giorgio would bring home some pizza and maybe meatball sandwiches or eggplant parmesan. They'd drink beer and eat, and joke and argue, and fall asleep on the couch like they always used to do in days gone by - back when life was simpler and who you loved and why they weren't with you, and why they just left you, weren't things they had to deal with or even think about.

**

The following morning at seven sharp, Henry Wildings came into the house to work, and he called Mike on his cell phone from the kitchen downstairs to see if he had to get up for his new job.

"Not today," Mike told him groggily. He and Giorgio had stayed up late into the night drinking beer and talking. "But Giorgio's here, Henry, and he has classes later. Call me back in a half hour, okay? I need more sleep."

But instead, Henry went up on the elevator at seven-thirty to bring some kitchen supplies and toiletries. The mild-mannered man was a career housekeeper, an Englishman through and through, even though he had lived in New York for most of his life. He was born in Yorkshire, in the north of England, and had lived there until his late teens when his father was transferred from York to New York to head an American division of the company he worked for. Henry had come along with his parents and a younger sister and completed his education at NYU. But he had never gone into the business world despite the opportunities his father's company had for him. He preferred to work in home service and went on to have an exemplary career working in some of Manhattan's most prestigious private homes. He had been housekeeper here at the Strato mansion for fifteen years now, ever since Mike had been a little boy.

He entered the den and saw Mike and Giorgio sprawled out on the couch like drunken sailors. Placing the basket of supplies down on the table, he said, "Good heavens! We have a dozen beds in this house and both you big lugs have to squeeze onto that couch?"

Mike opened one eye and looked at him. "Dude, we got drunk."

Henry nodded. "That is rather obvious," He looked distastefully at the mess of beer cans and stale pizza and other food leftovers. "You and Master Giorgio get up and get cleaned up, then come downstairs. I'll make you breakfast. And plenty of coffee. I'll clean this mess up here later."

"Strong coffee, please," Mike requested, pulling himself up into a sitting position. "We'll both need it."

Henry left the room shaking his head as Mike tried shaking Giorgio awake. After a few minutes Giorgio finally, albeit reluctantly, opened his eyes.

He groaned. "I'm glad I don't break up with a lover often. I couldn't take this on a regular basis."

Mike got to his feet and grabbed Giorgio's forearm and pulled him up. "Come on, dude. On your feet. Henry's cooking breakfast for us and you have to go to school. Let's get goin'."

Giorgio swayed and almost fell back down on the couch. Mike had to hold him up and help him across the room.

"Will you be able to take a shower?" Mike asked him.

Giorgio grinned. "Dunno. Maybe we'll have to shower together so you can help me."

Mike twisted his arm. "All right, ballbuster. Just because Eric is gone doesn't mean you have to start on me now."

Giorgio shook himself free of Mike's grasp and laughed. "Somebody has to bust your balls, bro. You just got them all waxed and shining - ripe for attack. Don'cha worry, I'll be okay. I'm just not a drinker and don't have much experience being hung over."

Mike watched him wobble down the hall toward the front room and the elevator to go down to his own room. He shook his head in dismay at their behavior last night, getting drunk over relationship problems. They'd never had to do that before. As Mike went in his bathroom to shower, he hoped like hell they'd never have to do it again!

**

As he bustled around the big kitchen preparing breakfast for Master Mike and Master Giorgio, as he called them, Henry reminisced on the many mornings past he had done the same throughout the years as the boys were growing up. Amazing, wasn't it, he was thinking, how fast the years had gone by, and they were hardly boys anymore, more like big grown men. But he wondered why they'd gotten drunk last night. It wasn't like them. They'd always been very well behaved. Perhaps even a little too well-behaved, from what one usually heard about young fellows their age.

Henry came to the house four to six days a week, depending on the current needs. He loved the place, it was his absolute favorite of all the houses he'd worked in. The irony of going from its massive elegant splendor to his small studio apartment in nearby Yorkville, which was the size of a bedroom in the Strato house, always wore on his mind. He often just stayed here, even when he really didn't need to. The servant suite on the first floor was far bigger than his apartment, and Mike seemed to like it when he stayed. The boy was usually far away upstairs, anyway, in his own little world of fantasy books and outer space adventures. Henry knew all about Mike's amazing secret worlds, having read the manuscripts when Mike wasn't at home.

Especially now, as Henry was nearing retirement age, he longed for a big house like this of his own. But that was an impossibility. There was no way for him to ever achieve such a dream. And he knew he'd probably keep on working for many years to come, as long as possible, so that he could stay here in this house. What would he do, anyway, day after day in that little one room studio apartment of his own? Other than go crazy with boredom?

He began setting the table in the breakfast room as the eggs and bacon fried and toast popped out of the toaster, and the coffee maker whined its little musical morning tune. Yes, the boys would definitely need him for many a year to come. He knew Mike would never leave the house. It was the only home he'd ever had and he loved it. And Giorgio would eventually move in too. They were as close as twins, the kind who spend their lives together as much as possible. Henry doubted that either one of them would ever be going anywhere. And why should they when they had this incredible house to live in, a stone's throw from Fifth Avenue in the world's most wonderful city?

As much as he wished the place could be his and his alone, Henry knew that just was not going to happen. It was too much of a stretch of the imagination for a docile man like himself who was not in the least bit aggressive. But at least, he was certain, it could be his for the caretaking as long as he was able to do it.

**

Mike had stopped on the way down to get Giorgio, who had managed to shave and shower and look his normal self, and they were clattering down the marble stairs to the main floor like a couple extreme sports jocks. The thick marble railings were especially good for sliding down, but they seldom did that anymore like they used to when they were younger. Yet they still managed to turn the staircases into challenging danger zones with their daredevil antics. Upon reaching the main floor, they ran the long way through the grand salon and the big dining room, instead of taking the hall to the kitchen, and on past the library and parlor into the breakfast room and almost knocked Henry over as he was pouring coffee into cups at their place settings.

"Good heavens, boys! A few minutes ago you were dead to the world. Now you're ready to destroy it."

"Sorry!" Giorgio said as he sat down. "But the smell of this food is a banger! Real actual non-Italian food! Eggs, bacon, pancakes ... yummm. I'm so tired of the stuff we cook at the pizza shop. It's like coming out of my ears."

"Yah, right," Mike laughed, plopping down next to him. "And this afternoon when you're back there you'll be scarfing it down like a wolf."

"Hey, I'm still growing. I need all the food I can get. You're just jealous I can eat whatever I want, all day long, and look this fabulous. Ha! And now that you're a big time model you'll have to survive on air sandwiches. Yuck! Oh, thank you, sir," he added as Henry set a plate of food in front of him.

The man looked at Mike. "You're a model now?"

"Righto, Sir Henry," Giorgio answered before Mike could say anything, getting British, which Henry always loved to hear. "He's the new Amedeo man for the Italian designer and he'll be on one of those big Times Square video billboards for two months starting next week. Ta ta, huh? When all the gals get a load of him up there, they'll find out where he lives and they'll be ganging up outside both back and front trying to get in. You'll have to chase them away with your wooden spoon and the old Hoover, I dare say."

"Oh Lord," Henry sighed, setting down a platter of food for Mike. "There goes the peace and quiet. I haven't been down to Times Square in years, but I'll have to go check you out on that billboard, Master Mike."

"You do that," Mike said as he and Giorgio dug into their food. "And you can tell me what it looks like. I don't know if I can go there and look at myself. It's beginning to weird me out - me up there with all those flashing lights, and West Side Story, Hello Dolly ... Hamilton? Nah, It's too crazy."

Giorgio jabbed his fork at him. "Hey, you convinced those people at the agency that you're the Prince of  New York. You gotta keep remembering it yourself. You belong up there."

Mike shrugged. "That's right. I know. Maybe I just need lotsa food and coffee. Getting wasted like that last night isn't good for my self-confidence."

Henry sat down with them to drink a cup of coffee. "Why did you boys get drunk? I've never seen you do that before."

"Hah! Love problems," Mike said. He nodded at Giorgio. "His boyfriend broke up with him. And I sort of got a girlfriend, but already she doesn't want to see me."

Henry looked at Giorgio with an upticked brow. He knew the boy was gay. They weren't keeping it a secret. It had come as a complete surprise to him when he'd been told, but then that was something he knew so little about.

"You had a boyfriend?" he said to Giorgio.

"I sure did," he answered with a mouthful of food. "But then he met Mike and he broke it off because he feels he'd only be a third party in my and Mike's relationship."

Henry looked over to Mike who was slugging down his coffee. He got up to get the coffee pot.

"That certainly is a tough one," he said, coming back to the table. "I don't know much about these things, of course, but you boys are unusually close. It'd really be difficult for another man to fit in, regardless of his role."

He filled Mike's coffee cup and set the pot down on a trivet on the table. "And you, Master Mike. I've never known you to actually have a girlfriend. When did all this come about?"

Mike briefly told him about meeting Jax on Saturday, not mentioning that he'd found her out back and allowed her to stay in the house when he went back to work. He knew Henry would be aghast and be angry at him for allowing a stranger stay in the house alone.

"But she has lots of problems," he added, "and she doesn't want to see me for a few days while she tries coping with them."

Henry frowned. "What kind of problems could a rich and beautiful young girl like that have?"

Mike shrugged. Attempting to make a joke of it, he said, "I think she's got the devil after her. We may need an exorcist."

Henry looked at him with widened eyes. He quickly made the sign of the cross. "God forbid, Master Mike. Why would you say such a thing?"

Mike looked at Giorgio and they shared an understanding glance. Henry was very religious and he had been involved with the church and parish proceedings up at Sacred Heart Church as long as they could remember. Mike had forgotten about all that.

"Sorry," Mike said to him. "I shouldn't be joking about it. Let's just say she's being plagued by something very evil. I'd like to talk about it with a someone who's familiar with that kind of thing."

Henry nodded his head as he sipped on his coffee. "The new priest at Sacred Heart, Father Kent. He's the one to see. He was trained as an exorcist. The Roman Catholic Church still has them, you know. Sometimes the problem isn't actually an evil entity itself but rather a psychological problem resulting from an evil deed the sufferer partook in or was the victim of. An exorcist can help with that also."

"That's what I was thinking," Mike said, popping half a strip of bacon into his mouth. "Can I call there and ask to see him?"

"Of course. That's what he's there for. Call Sister Agnes at the rectory. She's the secretary. Or you can just stop by. Father Kent is set to be the new pastor in a couple years or so when Monsignor steps down. I'm sure he'd love to talk to you. After all, your father is the biggest donor in the parish, Master Mike. They'll gladly take care of you and this unfortunate girl."

Mike felt a little surge of hope after hearing that. He didn't have much faith in Christianity anymore, and certainly not in its clergy. It was all so outdated and out of touch with the world, totally stuck in the past. But a priest trained in the psychology of evil and its long term effects on victims might be able to help. He knew that Jax's problems were in her mind now, and maybe there was a way to jar them loose so she could be free from them.

And he also wanted to report the current cult activity down at the House of Pain to someone who would know what to do about it. It seemed that the new priest at Sacred Heart was definitely the man to talk to.

**

Thanks everybody for reading, voting, and commenting!

Next chapter - THE EXORCIST. Meeting Father Kent results in Mike getting way the hell more than he bargained for!