The Chrysalis

Chrysalis Part 2-Chapter 23

This story is about a young man's quest to fix a major birth defect--he was born without a penis. On his quest he meets his soul mate and many other soon to be friends.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any real person is coincidental.

The story depicts procedures and practices common for gender reassignment; however, this story does not claim to be a medical treatise, and information is primarily for the purpose of the story and not medical advice. This story is written for adults with adult themes. If you are underage or live in a location where references to gay relationships or transgender people is forbidden, please log out of the story or move.

This work is copyrighted by Boethiuscell@gmail.com © 2023

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Chapter 23--The New Digs

Chris awoke late on Sunday to his phone buzzing. It was Tom texting that he needed to see him. Chris checked the time: 11:18 AM. Chris decided to brew coffee while he took a hot shower. Clean and dressed in grey jeans and poppy-red T-shirt, since it was to be almost 80, warm for early May, global warming, Chris sat at his table with coffee and a bagel. He noticed the keys to his new home sitting on the table. He had a new home; the paperwork needed to clear, but that was just a formality. So, Derrek gave him the keys.

Chris had a new home and nothing in it: no furniture, kitchen stuff, linens, nothing--almost 1500 feet of nothing. Chris looked around his apartment--one or two carloads of shit. Maybe he should hire an interior decorator, let them do the planning, although a part of him wanted to do it himself. Chris texted Tom to come over; he needed to run ideas through Tom. Chris wanted Tom's involvement because he saw it as a place for them. Tom might not totally realize it yet, but Tom was his from the moment he asked for a light. If Tom balked, he'd just let Ariel loose. Chris smile at that thought.

While Chris waited for Tom, he check messages: sister about how excited she and her friends were about New York in a few weeks (more demands on Chris's time), Chet say he would pick Chris up at 4:30 on Tuesday to meet with the FBI, Helga doing follow-up, Cynthia about the schedule for the week--outdoor shot since the weather was warm, reminder from Dr. Sturgeon's office for an appointment Friday at 3. More messages from Cordelia Duncan, Ariel, Cedrick, Derick, Zack, Ollie, Slim. Chris wanted to crawl back into bed. Tom knocking at Chris's door, sullenly he padded barefoot to the door to let Tom in. Tom's smiling face eased all Chris's concerns, so Chris threw his arms around Tom in on large desperate hug.

They stood in the doorway for several minutes. Tom pried Chris's face from his chest. "That bad?" Tom back walked Chris to the sofa. Chris sat with a plump.

"Not really bad," Chris smiled weakly, "just overwhelmed--my new digs, friends, family, work, my new digs, which I have nothing for."

"You are not in this alone. You have me and many friends who will gladly help you." Chris breathed a heavy sigh almost convinced. Tom sat back and gave Chris a critical look, "How was last night at Derick's? You okay?"

Chris appreciated Tom's concern, maybe jealousy. "It was, for me mostly boring, naked people having sex in multiple derivations of the Kama Sutra, while stoned out on a vast array of drugs."

"That dull," Tom said flatly, "All that happening around you and not participating would be tedious. Or did you participate?"

"I found a seat on a sofa with two drugged out girls in just panties and had Chet bring me club soda and snacks. I met an interesting woman and her stepson. She was trying to get him more engaged in life, that meaning sex, but Derick's was not the place. Chet and I had pizza with them at midnight at Patzeria. I was home a little after 1:30."

"Did all those bare tits upset you?"

"I don't mind tits on other people, just not me." That caused both of them to laugh. "Chet was very happy with the evening. I meet with the FBI on Tuesday. I think they are interested in the guy Max I talked too. He scared me too, especially after I literally twisted his arm off of Chet's bare ass."

"Chet's ass was bare." Tom leaned back to stare at Chris. Why was Chet bare assed?

Chris leaned into Tom giggling, "All of him was bare, except for the collar and butt plug. It was sort of my revenge for conning me into going."

"Were you both nude?"

"Nope, just Chet in all his glory. I wore my leather. We were master and slave. I didn't tell Chet until it was too late to back out. He should get a promotion for what he did for this case."

"Shit Chris, you are ballsy. Wish there were pictures."

"Likely are with all the hidden cameras. Chet noticed one in the bathroom; I saw a couple more in the living room. Makes for good blackmail. Larry, the young man, mentioned he recognized several prominent people."

Tom grew pensive, "I don't like that you were used and might be in danger. It sounds like more than a fuck party." Chris was saved from answering by a knock on his door. Chris let in Juan and Zack, followed closely by Ollie and Louis.

"We had a late breakfast downstairs and decided to head up." Juan explained. "Zack and I wanted to talk to Stan and Stella about this apartment, since you are moving on up in the world."

"And Louis and I needed to talk to them about catering from their place until we find or build our own kitchens." Ollie said as he and Louis claimed a single chair. "They have a very nice setup, but I think it will be too small if business grows like we would like." Louis interrupted, "Thanks, Chris for introducing us to Ariel, we are catering her event." "Yes, thanks Chris," Ollie continued.

Chris turned to Juan and Zack, "You moving in here?"

"Looks that way." They both said together and then giggled. Juan continued. "As soon at the sleaze bag moves out we can move in."

"Yeah, I heard that. But I understand that the new people are even worse bottom feeders," Chris joked. "This place will great for you."

"What is included?" Juan asked becoming serious.

"Everything except the clothes, computer system, stereo and TV, and the artwork from Slim."

"Way cool man," Zack said looking around. "Just think Juan our own place." Zack grinned at Juan. "Our own place--no brothers barging in while." Juan blushed. "and we're not giving them a key." Emphatic. Everybody laughed.

"When are you moving, not to be pushy?" Juan asked.

"I would like to be mostly moved before my sister's visit in about two weeks." Chris's statement is fraught with doubt, so much to do. "Just so much to do."

"We are here to help," Juan said with agreement from everyone.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it. It is just too much." Chris gazed more at the floor; the men in Chris's apartment totally unaware of Chris's mood. Chris looked up and smiled, "Want to see my place and offer ideas?"

Thirty minutes later everyone was at Chris's new home. Chris was excited and worried what the others would think. Chris winced; I owned a million-dollar home before the age of twenty as a gift from an unknown person. How? Why?

They took the elevator from the stately art deco lobby to the third floor. Liam was playing opera a little too loud, but Chris did not mind, Ollie just rolled his eyes. Chris was expecting to show the guys an empty apartment, but against a wall was a beautiful grand piano. "Holy shit," Chris muttered ,"where did this come from." Chris walked over, and it was a Steinway. Chris was almost in tears. Chris sat and ran his fingers across the keys, listening. It was tuned. Zack urged him to play something. Chris's mind went blank; he started a Beethoven Moonlight Piano sonata. It was a good three four years since Chris played it. He was rusty but he didn't care. Zach caught Chris's mood and started dancing, moving elegantly around the bare room. His movements slow and stately, bending from the waste his hand sweeping the floor then into the air like catching butterflies. Ollie, Louis, Juan and Tom sat on the floor more toward the kitchen so as not to be overpowered by the piano and to watch Zack. None of them had seen Zack dance before. Zack changed style for the second movement and prance around delicately, a bee in a field of flowers. By the third movement he was frantic, leaps, jete's, cabrioles. pas de chat and saut de basque, which he barely had room to execute. Chris flourished his ending, and Zack fell to the floor exhausted. Four pair of hands were clapping in the room, three more pairs at the door, where stood Liam , Matías, and Mrs. Coons.

"Chris hope you don't mind us intruding," Mrs. Coons and the rest entered Chris's condo. "The performance was breathtaking," she continued. Chris offered her a seat on the piano bench. "Your playing was brilliant Chris." She turned to Zack, "And you, young man, must be a professional dancer because you took my breath away."

Chris quickly introduced everyone being sure to mention that Zack was with the New York City Ballet, and Louis was the chef Chris mentioned. Running Chris's hand over the piano, Chris asked, "This is a beautiful piano; why is it here?"

Mrs. Coons, who insisted she be call Millie, said, "It is a gift from the board. Dan had shared a video on YouTube of you playing at Jazzabel's and wanted you to have it so when you hosted party night, which was once a month at rotating units, you would entertain."

"I will entertain gladly, at any event." Chris was so stunned by the gift he could hardly find words. Chris sat at the piano and started playing a medley of Rodgers and Hammerstein. Millie jumped in and they were playing four-hand. Millie backed off as Chris started to improvise. Soon Chris switched to more popular songs that others knew and a song fest ensured. Matías joined us with a rich tenor-baritone. Chris wound down after about forty-five minutes.

Liam invited everyone to his place for refreshments, which was wine and an assorted cheese tray. Soon Millie said she needed to get ready, her granddaughter was taking her out for supper. Dan and Matías were meeting friends, and Liam was entertaining a female companion. Chris and gang excused ourselves, with thanks, and returned to Chris's unit.

"That was very unexpected." Tom and Chris sat on the bench. The rest sat in the chairs Liam lent to Chris. "So, what do you think? I mean this is a lot of space and what of the kitchen." "Yeah a lot of space, let's see the rest of your palace." Juan said standing. The tour was short because the unit was empty; soon they returned to the living room to discuss furnishing the place. Chris told them that he thought he would hire a decorator, which had everyone's approval, but did anyone know any. Chris got no suggestions. Louis and Ollie looked at the kitchen. Louis kissed the stove in homage to Mr. Dupré, but said the kitchen needed an updated refrigerator, and a larger pantry, which had room against one wall covered in cook books, since Chris would have an office/library/media room for the books, converting one of the bedrooms. Chris offered Louis a pick of any of the cook books. Ollie pulled him away, stating that he would be there a week before he could decide. Louis slugged Ollie on the shoulder with a laugh.

Leaving the condo about 6:00, Chris had treated everyone to Chinese and then they went to a cocktail bar for an after diner cocktail. Tom and Chris ended up back at Chris's place at about 11:00. "Chris, you place is perfect for you, once you have it furnished. The cohabitants of the building seem truly splendid and you have won their hearts, as if there were any doubts."

"I like them too; the interview was a bit intimidating but they approved me. That is all that is important. Now the big challenge is decorating. I wish Chaz was in New York. I like his sense of design,"

"You can call him tomorrow, and see if he can suggest someone."

Chris thought that a good idea. Chris's head jerk mid Tom's reply. It was time for bed.

Monday slipped by. Tuesday, Chet picked Chris up for debriefing with the FBI. Chet was effusive about how well the undercover operation went without giving details. He said that the FBI was going to make him an offer to join the Bureau, but he was not certain. By the time they reached a nondescript office building with no indication that it was FBI, Chet had talked himself into the change to the FBI. The interrogation, although friendly, was still an interrogation. It was over two hours of questions, details, more questions. The two men and one woman doing the questioning were amused that Chet was Chris's naked pet. Chet laughed with them, not in the least embarrassed. As he said, "If you got it, flaunt it." Chris detected no ridicule, disparagement, or harassment over Chet's demeaning role. In fact, Chris thought it earned Chet respect that he was willing to do what was necessary to investigate a case. They thanked Chris and sent him on his way with no comments on what actions they would take or that Chris would need to take.

Chet dropped Chris off at Chris's apartment and came up for a beer. He was so excited to be part of an FBI investigation, to be thought good enough to join the FBI, that he rambled for forty-five minutes before suddenly saying he needed to go home. He thanked Chris for everything he did and left. Tom stopped by to say he had an interior designer set up. We were to have supper with him Friday at 7. They would meet at Thai Holic, which was close to Chris's new apartment. Chris was pleased that Tom wanted to join him with the designer. He was already going to Chris's doctor's appointment on Friday afternoon; it would be a full Tom day, which Chris relished.

Friday came and Chris was tired and bitchy. Even Cynthia, who usually took Chris's mood swings with humor, was glad to pass him off to Tom for the doctor's visit. Doctor Sturgeon, was efficient and totally disregarded Chris's bad mood. He harvested several eggs, which he said looked good, but Chris needed at least another month of hormone therapy. Tom groaned and rolled his eyes; the doctor did not respond with any commiseration. Since they had time, Tom took Chris for a drink.

Chris didn't like himself when he was grumpy and ornery; he didn't like to inflict this mood on others. He was ready to tell Tom, curtly, to cancel the dinner with the designer. Tom insisted that they keep the appointment. Chris's mood turned more sour. Chris snapped, barked, and belittled everything. Tom, who irritated Chris more, was calm, solicitous, and kind. Chris wanted to kill, and Tom calmed him. The more Chris frowned; the more Tom smiled. The more Chris grumped; the more Tom laughed. Chris knew Tom laughed at him making a fool of himself, which Chris was; Chris knew he was, but he could not control it. Slowly, a second scotch, which Chris rarely touch, made him see the humor in his attitude. They left the bar, Chris slightly intoxicated. But he was not in a better mood, but at least he could find the humor in it.

Chris had eaten several times at the Thai Holic with Tom and others. The sauteed turmeric chicken or duck noodle soup were Chris's favorites. Chris's mood demanded spicy: he was drooling for a curry. Intent on his food choices, Chris, not paying attention where they were seated, looked up and there was Chaz. Chaz stood up, and Chris and Chaz had a beyond friends hug with Chaz's hand down the back of Chris's pants.

They sat; Chris just staring at Chaz. "What are you doing here Chaz?"

"I understand you need an interior designer, I am one such best, so here I am," he gave Chris a delicious grin. "But," Chris could only stammer. "Tom called Helga about your new condo and the need for an ID, Stu called me asking if I would do it. And for you it is a definite yes."

Chris looked at Tom, who was enjoying Chris's excited disbelief, "You knew this didn't you."

"Yes, Chris, since Monday when I talked to Helga. Chaz called me Monday night to confirm his flight. He is staying with me. You out of your bitch from hell mood now?" Chaz looked at me with a question.

"Yes I am with Chaz. I don't know with you though." Chris looked at Chaz. "It was one of those days when it is best to lock me in a closet until the full moon passes."

"You are not always sweet Pollyanna." The sarcasm, while not thick, was evident, from Tom. "Dearest, sweetest Chris can turn a mean Joan Crawford while channeling Bette Davis." Chris whined that he was not that bad. That earned a guffaw from Tom.

Deciding that Tom was likely right, Chris changed topics. "How long are you here for Chaz?"

"Till Tuesday, I figured we would spend tomorrow and Sunday at your place. Monday I want to shop for me and clients in Chicago, and I fly home early Tuesday. This trip is not all business. Tomorrow night you are treating me to a nice supper and Jazzabel's."

"Got the right Chaz." Chris patted Chaz's hand as a friendly gesture, just pleased to see him. After food (Chris opted for the duck noodle soup) and a few drinks at a pub near Tom and Chris's places, Chris crashed not realizing how fatigue and stress crept in after the FBI, doctor, his new place, and now Chaz.

Chris rolled into the deli at about 8:30 to find Juan and Zack sitting across from each other; Juan into his waffles and Zack into his bacon and eggs. Juan moved beside Zack; Chris took Juan's place. Chris had just slurped his first taste of coffee and ordered a Greek omelet when Tom and Chaz joined them. Chris introduced Chaz and laid out the day. Chris invited them to supper with them and then to Jazzabel's Palace. They could not turn that down; Zack was not part of the show that night.

While Tom, Chaz, and Chris went to Chris's new place, Zack and Juan wanted to look at Chris's apartment above the deli so they could decide what they needed to bring. Everyone settled on activities, the three headed off to Prospect Park and Chris's place.

While Chaz had seen the photos Tom sent, he was excited to see the solid structure. He oohed at the park across the street and the art deco entrance with sentinels with torches beside the heavy oak door with leaded glass panels. He saw Gatsby in the elevator, original except for a control panel. He aahed over the corridors with the original oak floors. Chris opened the condo door, and Chaz gasp at the light flooding in from the row of paned windows next to the French doors that opened to a small balcony with a view of the park. Chaz immediately took out a tablet and starting taking pictures. We went to the two guest bedrooms. Chris showed him the one he wanted to be an office, library and media room. He was not sure about the media room. Finally, we went to the master with is its large windows facing the park.

Liam's chairs were still in the unit so they sat and talked in the living area. They talked about what Chris liked, the piano, the kitchen and cooking, entertaining and sundry other topics. After about two hours of talking, measuring, and visually placing, Chaz had a rough plan. Colors: teal, light grey, white with accents of dusty rose. Chris thought that too feminine. He then offered forest green with accents of pale green and white. He suggested wallpapering one wall in the dining area and the headboard wall in the master. Chris said no to the master wallpaper. They exchanged more ideas. Chaz never getting upset or claiming designer privilege. Chris love the way he worked with him to find something he liked. They finally decided on forest green for the master with white and light blue grey accents. The head wall to be determined. The other bedroom was to be a dark burgundy with white, the office walnut wainscot, built in bookshelf with tv/stereo connection, light wood desk on an oriental carpet, walls above the wainscot burgundy. The living dining area remained a bone of contention was tabled until they decided on furnishings.

Chris's stomach growled; Tom ordered lunch.

After lunch they discussed furniture: king size bed for master, queen for guest, semi-formal dining room to seat 10, with leaves, otherwise four. Sectional with comfortable chairs for living area. He asked about remodeling the kitchen. Chris agreed based upon what Louis suggested. He finally asked about time frame. Chris said two weeks. He freaked but agreed. By five Chris's head was spinning; Tom was bored; and Chaz was still hyper. They agreed to continue on Sunday. Chaz wanted to take Chris to a large designer warehouse to look at samples. Chris texted Juan to meet them at 7 at Bebe's. an Italian restaurant that service Tuscan rather than Sicilian food. Tom and Chaz went to Tom's to freshen and change into clubbing clothes; Chris went home to do the same.

By 10:00 they were in line for the midnight show. Chaz was concerned that they would not be admitted, but the line manager saw Chris and escorted them to a VIP table. Chaz stopped whining and cocked an interested eye at Chris. Chris was not sure that he would receive VIP treatment, but he was certain that Jazzabel would welcome him back. Drinks came with a pink envelope for Chris.

Chris,

Ecstatic that you are back.

Ready to play?

Jazzabel

Only Juan and Zack were present the first time Chris was at Jazzabel's, Tom was too busy monitoring Toby to fully watch the show. Chris was antsy about Tom and Chaz, but he was more prepared to play, if asked. Chris knew, however, from the note, she was challenging him. Chris spent the previous night, using a digital piano on his computer, to learn several obscure songs. Once he was in his own place with the real piano, he would pick up more tunes.

The show started at 11:00 with the Jazzettes, a comic, and a soloist. By 11:45 the crowd was roaring for a good time and very rowdy. At midnight Jazzabel made her grand entrance carried from the back on a litter carried by four muscular hunks just in silver thongs. As she moved down the aisle, a burly, black bouncer the size of a small ship, dressed in a skimpy wrap around his waist, gold bands on his arm, and a whip made the crowd move and bow to the mistress of the evening. Jazzabel threw gold bar token to the crowd as she made procession to the stage. On stage, her four litter bearers gently place the litter and knelt before Jazzabel. She rose in gauzy silver like mist from the couch, smiling beneficently to everyone. The four hunks each kissed her feet and on knees moved off stage. The crowd was amped. As she watched the four leave, "I do love my stallions; they have endurance. They hold up for the long haul." The crowd roars. She smiled at everyone. She caught Chris's eye and winked. "And, of course, there is my beast master." She barely nodded to the bounce. "He has a nasty whip, which he beats...anyone off with." Another howl. "He does like to use it. it would be a shame to waste that talent." The bounce cracked the whip three times over the head of the audience, once teasing a patron's hair--he was good with it. "Yes, he does need to use it. Do I have any volunteers?" Two dozen hands went up. She stretched out her hand pointing, toying with the audience, but finally landed on Chris. "You, golden boy. here now." Her smile was one of victory, hoping that she could embarrass Chris.

Chris stood. "As her majesty commands, so her humble servant must comply." Chris climbed onto the railing to VIP section and jumped, trusting hands would catch him. They did. And Chris body surfed to the stage. Landing on his knees, Chris crawled over and kissed her feet. She pulled Chris up and kissed him on both cheeks whispering, "Trying to upstage me?" She had humor in her voice; she was loving every minute of this. "Silence" she yelled, but the crowd was too loud to hear her. She nodded to the bouncer. "Silence, maggots." The bouncer's voice reverberated around the room. "Silence, her majesty commands silence." The whip cracked three times, close to the heads of a couple of less attentive men. "It is a pleasure," Jazzabel said to a fully attentive room. "This is my dear friend Chris. If you were here about a month ago, you might remember him and me on stage together. It was one of the best shows we ever had. I am more than pleased to see him here again. Of course, he will perform." She looked imperiously at me. "I command it so." The audience erupted in cheers. Chris did a deep bow of acquiescence. "But first, I think he is not dress appropriately for the show. Brutus, take Chris back stage and have him properly dress for my court." Brutus led Chris off stage while Jazzabel did some of her usual routine.

Chris returned, not thrilled with the attire. He wore only a sheer tunic that ended well above his knees and flesh briefs. Chris decided that if he was going to be on display he might as well go big; Chris pumped up his prosthetic to a little less than max. It showed subtly through the tunic. This would drive the boys wild. Jazzabel finished a song, and Chris was led out with a slave collar and a leash. A piano was moved on stage too. "Ah, my pet," she took Chris's leash. Chris stood humble. "You are so beautiful. A birdy said you were into collar and leashes, but not on yourself." She kissed Chris on the lips; the crowd roars. "Jealous?" She eyed the room. "Don't you think he is a perfect package? My slave?" Chris tilted his head down toward his crotch. Stamping and hooting filled the room. "Now Chris, please entertain my devoted subjects while I change." Chris sat at the piano, the hoop of the leash attached to a Liberace size candelabra. Chris did a few arpeggios launching into Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue, which Chris morphed in Perry's Hear me Roar, then into Sound of Music, with everyone encouraged to sing. Jazzabel returned to stage in a pleated gown like Cleopatra, a garland of blue and white flowers in a gold circlet. Chris stopped in mid chord and bowed to her. The crowd slowly silenced. "Did Chris entertain you sufficiently or should I have him flogged?" Of course, of few voices prompted flogging but most cheered enthusiastically. "Now Chris and I are going to have a little competition. He will play a song and I must follow with the lyrics." She looked at me, "Think you can stump me." Chris accepted her challenge with only a bow of Chis head. Chris started with Love for Sale, which Chris knew she would quickly know. While this was a competition it was also a show, so Chris needed to play it out. He did Sondheim, Porter, Mancini, Berlin, and Beetles. After forty-five minutes Chris decided it was time to play for the kill: Bessie Smith, Need a Little Sugar in Me; Billie Holiday, Fine and Mellow; Sarah Vaughan, Poor Butterfly. The last had her to the ropes but not down. Chris played Dinah Washington, Sunday Love, which she recognized about a third into it. Chris decided on something easy to build false confidence--Judy Garland, The Boy I Love. Chris moved to K D Lang, Ms. Chatelaine. She was sweating but managed to pull a few of the lyrics. Chris started his next song played an introduction then launched the tune. She huffed and blow out her cheeks in frustration. Chris started again. She tried to hum along, then stopped. Chris started again and sang, Chris's voice was a high tenor, not professional, but sufficient for the crowd.

When I grow too old to dream

I'll have you to remember

When I grow too old to dream

Your love will live in my heart

So, kiss me my sweet

And so let us part

And when I grow too old to dream

That kiss will live in my heart

When I grow too old to dream

I'll have you to remember

When I grow too old to dream

Your love will live in my heart

So, kiss me my sweet

And so let us part

And when I grow too old to dream

That kiss will live in my heart.

"Oscar Hammerstein" Chris whispered in her ear as he stood.

She laughed loud and clear, "Chris's dear boy you bested me. `So, kiss me my sweet and so let us part.'" She kissed Chris on the cheek. "For his invaluable service should I free Chris?" she said to the crowd, who roared approval: stomping and hooting. "I free you, Chris. Please kneel." She removed the collar and leash, but kept a restraining hand on Chris's shoulder. She glanced at the Brutus, who quickly returned with a sword. "My sweet, sweet Chris. You have proved yourself courageous, loyal, and true. Therefore, I knight you and make you a permanent member of my court. You will have all the rights and privileges of this court: immediate seating in the VIP box, immediate seating at the five restaurants I own and free taxi service anywhere in Brooklyn through Jazz Cab Service, and finally, free drinks in this establishment." The last brought the crowd to standing. "Rise, Sir Chris." Chris bowed and Brutus led him off stage to change. Soon Tom, Chaz, Juan and Zack we brought back. Chris had reduced his bulge and straightened his hair as Jazzabel was finishing up the show. Brutus said they should wait.

Chaz was effusive with praise, which made Chris blush. Tom just smiled like a proud poppa, and Zack and Juan were fascinated by Jazzabel's wig collect. Brutus brought them champagne and snacks. Jazzabel came breezing into the dressing room flicking her wig on the counter. "Chris, darling, you were sensational. We killed them tonight. I wish I could have you every night. I could double the cover charge, give you half."

"I enjoyed myself immensely," Chris said, "I would like to do it again, but only as a guest. my life is getting too busy, and I like where it is going." She nodded understanding as she removed makeup to become Ralph Brown. "You knew the last song didn't you?"

"Yes, of course, but it was the perfect song to end the show on." She laughed loud and rawkus. "Because we both know it was really a show and not a competition, but a couple of them almost had me." We both laughed. "So, who are these gorgeous people. Of course, I know Zack." He gave Zack a chaste kiss. Chris did introductions, mentioning Chaz was decorating Chris's new condo. Chris spent a good deal of time giving details. Ralph knew the building and Dan Oppenheimer. When Chris introduced Tom as a coworker, Ralph pulled Tom into a hug. Chris mouthed to Ralph "boyfriend". Ralph held Tom out at arm's length, looking him over like a used car. "You treat Chris bad, and I will have every drag queen in the greater New York area whoop your ass." Tom gulped taking the firm statement as an honest promise. "Sir, I will do my best." Ralph pulled Tom back into a killer hug, "I know you will," Ralph whispered and winked at me. We sat and chatted with Ralph and Brutus, whose real name was Darius, drinking champagne and nibbling on cheese, crackers and fruit. As they stood to leave, Chris told Ralph that the next time he came to Jazzabel's he would give advanced warning, crowd surfing was just too risky for him.

A Jazz Cab took everybody back to Chris's apartment; Chris tip the cabbie forty although the fare was zero. There Chaz, Tom and Chris made arrangements to meet at the deli at noon. Everyone left, and Chris crashed happy a little buzzed.

Chris dragged himself into the deli, not hungover since he only drank club soda and a little champagne. Chris was still tired by the late night. Stella saw him dragging, and before Chris was fully seated, she had coffee in front of him. Chris mumbled a thank you which gained a slight laugh from her. Tom and Chaz were already seated, bright and chipper and most annoying. "Sleeping beauty has awoken." Tom chirped; Chris glared.

"This sleeping beauty needs more beauty sleep before any handsome prince should risk Beauty's wrath." Chris smelt his coffee and took a sip, the bitter taste of caffeine lingering on his tongue.

"Don't want to rush you, Beauty," Chaz's smile was as nice as Chris's coffee, "but we have a fucking lot to get done today. I want to place orders by tomorrow and then schedule deliveries, except for the rooms we are going to remodel: the living and kitchen, and the library. Chaz expect painters in on Tuesday and furniture in by Friday." Chris looked at Chaz and groaned. Tom laughed, which prompted a kick to his shin by Chris.

"Hey," Louis said as he walked over from the kitchen, "you look like the dirty sock that didn't make the hamper." Chris mumbled a sarcastic thank you. Chris asked why he was here to annoy him by stating the obvious. Louis slid in next to Chris, "I'm helping Stella and Stan revise some of the menu. Removing items that never get ordered and replacing with more salads and light sandwiches. The neighborhood is changing and getting younger, so more contemporary items will help business." Tom commented on how he would like a nice Cobb salad and more seafood. Louis nodded but it was obvious that was not what he had planned. "What you guys up to today?"

"Hitting designer warehouses, deciding on the final layout for the great room." Chaz looked at Louis, "Do you have time to join us? I would like your input on the kitchen area."

"Me design a kitchen is a dream, I'm ready now." Louis was bouncing in the seat. "To redesign the kitchen of Gabriel Dupré is a great honor. Of course, I would want pictures and credit for the design."

Chaz looked at Chris suddenly serious. "You mean the unit was owned by Gabriel Dupré?" Chris nodded affirmative. "This is very important that I do a first rate job. It was featured in an issue of Architectural Digest about twenty years ago." Chris asked how he had a copy of an article that old. "In school, I ran across it doing a class project on apartment design. This was when everyone was going condo." He pulled out his tablet and scrolled. "I love the look, both contemporary and French classic. Maybe too heavy on the classic." Chaz chuckled. He showed everybody pictures. "I love the design, never thinking that I might redesigning the space." Everyone oohed over the pictures but Chris said that was not his taste. "You are right Chris, this is not you, and this is twenty years dated. But this is now a significant commission of preservation and modernizing. If I do this right, it could be Architectural Digest material again." Chris just smiled at Chaz and his sudden enthusiasm. "I was just going to do a quick design for you Chris and be gone and done today, but this will need more attention. I have appointments the next few day, but if it is okay, I will be back Thursday night and spend several days overseeing the project. And then I'll bounce in a few more times before it is done." Chaz quickly looked at Tom, "okay, if I crash at your place?"

Chris frowned in concern, "Will you still be able to complete most of the work so that I can move in two weeks? My sister arrives the 15th and I want to be in the place."

"I can definitely have the master and guest bedroom done by then since it is mostly paint. The library/office/media room unlikely, but have the unit electronics in by then. The living area should be done mostly, and the kitchen mostly depending upon what Louis decides." Chaz patted Chris's arm across the table. "I won't let you down." Chaz's face twitched as his mind whirled. "Could I see your current apartment now. I want to get a sense of your style."

Chris laughed so hard he almost fell out of the booth, "My style now is rented--so none."

Upstairs, Chaz sadly agreed with Chris's assessment of design until he saw Slim's art work. He asked Chris about how he acquired it, and if he liked it. Chris said that it was perfectly him, and it was a gift from the artist. He asked if Chris might be able to acquire more. He then asked about an art budget. Since Chris underpaid on the unit and had a separate remodel budget, Chris said he could go 300 grand. Chaz choked on his coffee.

They spent the afternoon at Picket Furniture, Wonk, Recycled Brooklyn, and Sentinel. All had nice handcrafted wood furniture. Most of them had lag times, since the furniture was custom made, of 6 to 8 weeks., Chris ordered a bed from Sentinel and would make do with a temporary one. It was at the thrift shops that Chris found the guest bedroom furniture; it would need to be refurbished, but is had the feel Chris wanted--warm, welcoming with natural colors. After that it was for kitchen appliances; Louis had done a rough sketch of a kitchen for workflow. They decided to use only Jenn Air, mainly to have the same brand in case of repairs. Chris ordered a 48-inch stove, double door fridge and freezer, drawer refrigerators, wine fridge, dishwasher and compactor, two microwaves and a possible ventilation system. Then Chris added a warming drawer at Louis's suggestion. Chris looked at the preliminary cost of appliances at over 100 K. But Chris was assured by the sales clerk that it was worth every cent. The final decisions on style or color Chris left to Chaz.

After a supper of Vietnamese, they went to Chris's unit for a walk through, measurements, and discussion. The ultimate consensus was that Chaz would do everything, and Chris would have final approval. Chris's final instruction was that this was his home, where he would live and not a showcase or museum. Comfort and function over glam. Chaz laugh and called Chris a repressed Victorian. Chris countered with "more hedonistic Zen." Chaz just nodded, "Plush, but minimal clean lines spots of rich texture and color. The biggest problem is the piano, but it is solvable. Would you consider combining the two guest bedrooms into one room, it is a simple change but it will give you more space for your office and media room, unless you are considering a steady stream of guests?"

"I am not sure about that right now. It can always be done later."

"Both bathrooms need an update, but that can be latter. I'll just add new lights, vanity and mirrors and you will be good."

A knock on the door interrupted them; it was Liam . "Hope I'm not intruding, but I heard noise and wanted to check it out for any intruders." He nodded to Tom and Louis. Chris introduced Chaz to Red with Chaz's role. This piqued Red's attention, and he started asking very pointed questions about Chaz's design. Soon Chris was involved in the discussion on the history of the building, its architectural value, and historic preservation while adding modern amenities. Chaz's haggles began to rise as Red took over more and more of the design conversation. Red finally clarified that he was a semi-retired architect. After exchanging more personal information they were best buds because each was aware of the other's work and respected it. Red mentioned he was working on refurnishing an old brownstone for a large design firm; they wanted to preserve the outside but wanted a blend of old and ultra-modern inside. Chaz and Red exchanged numbers and went back to Chris's remodel project. He agreed with Chaz on combining the two guest room, make a sleeping alcove, and move the living room wall. Chris mentioned time frames. Chaz worried about permits. But Red, now excited about this project said he had an in and could have the permits, since he would do the architectural and engineering today and could have a crew in by Thursday or Friday, and done in ten days. Louis entered the discussion with questions about the kitchen and the appliances. Louis left about 8. Chris grew bored and superfluous; he sat at the piano and played. This was his home. Tom joined Chris on the bench: Chris's home was complete.

A little after 10:00 most decisions were made. Red was around most of the week so Chris gave him a key for any deliveries. He poked his head in at Millie's to let her know what was transpiring. After wine and cheese with her, they were in a Jazz cab for home.

Monday morning, Chris received a text from Helga that he need to be in Chicago next Monday for an all staff meeting, according to Tom this happens every six months. Cynthia announced that the X project this week with swimsuits, but some of the models will be on location in St. Croix next week Monday for additional work. Only four people would go: Art, Katil, Boyd and Chris. Chris mentioned that he was to be in Chicago on the following Monday; Cynthia gave him a so-what look. Fly out of Chicago on Monday. Everyone was to be ready to shoot on Tuesday morning and would be back on Friday.

He was flustered. He would need to fly out that Sunday evening for Chicago, leave Monday evening for St. Croix, work 12 hour days, and return late Friday night. He would be exhausted. Chris's sister was to arrive on this Friday and staying until the day after Chris returned. He would be gone for most of her stay.

Chris had ballet tickets for Sunday for his sister and him; Chris looked at Zack in . Zack patted Chris's hand and said they would work it out. Ariels open house was Friday; he would be traveling.

Then there was the condo still under renovation. Chris's Unit would be ready for first inspections this weekend, and Chaz would be here. He wanted to move in this Thursday or Friday if the place was livable. Life just got complicated. But the here and now first--swimsuits.

The schedule for the final week was routine: Monday evaluation of the garments with a preliminary assessment of who will be wearing what. Dorn and Sledge primarily deciding. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday photoshoots. Chris was self-conscious for this final week of fittings since a few of the swimsuits were minimal. The range of styles and the designs compensated for the lack of fabric. What fascinated Chris more was the technology woven into the suits; some suits changed color with exposure to UV rays so the wearer could cover when the risk of a burn was too high, all tunic cover-ups had built in UV protection, a couple had built in timers or alarms.

Usually not all the models were required all days, but Chris, Arthur, Katil, and Boyd were required all three days. Friday, the final day, the four going to St. Croix were excused. Chris sighed with relief since it gave him time for his routine doctor's visit and prepare for Brittany and Ariel. He was also was hoping to move into his new place; Zack and Juan were pressuring for his old apartment.

Tuesday after Silent Models, Chris asked Zack to visit his unit with him to see the progress. Chris poked his head into Millie's place to see her and thank her for her letting in workmen and delivery people. She was a bundle of enthusiasm and effusive over the work being done. She insisted on accompanying Chris and Zack to his unit. "Chris," she effused, "Your designer is a marvel. The place is a miracle. Everyone who lives here is so excited to have you as part of the family and finally joining us. Do you have a date to move in?" Chris was not sure but targeted this weekend, maybe sooner depending upon the progress. Millie paused outside Chris's unit pointing to his name on the mailbox "5/Chris Wentworth". He had a home, a place of his own. He was the owner and no one could kick him out; no one could force him to the street. He turned his back to everyone to hide the start of tears. Zack moved into a shoulder hug. The noise inside his unit brought him back. It was an army laughing, hammering, and making an unseemly racket.

"Hope all this noise is not disturbing the other tenants?" Chris said apologetically. Millie just waved her hand as if to forget any disruption. Millie opened the door and Chris stood stunned. Although workers were busy, most of the unit was complete. The kitchen appliances were missing but all the cabinets were finished. Chris walked in and saw Tom and Juan talking to one of the workmen.

Tom waved Chris and the others over. "Chris, this is Fred. He is telling me that you can start moving in by Thursday night or Friday. Some of the kitchen appliances will need to be hooked up Friday and the office/tv room furniture needs to be connected, but the rest will be done. The master will be done tomorrow, if you want to start moving clothes and other stuff in."

"Normally, this would take at least three weeks." Fred grinned at Chris, "But Liam is a personal friend, and he is pushing us." Fred shook his head in disbelief. "Chaz, your designer, is one of the easiest people to work with. He has everything detailed out and materials ready. I look forward to meeting him Friday for a walk through."

"I am beyond delighted," Chris said as he looked around the living area. "Can we walk through the place because I am anxious to move in. My sister is visiting from Chicago Friday, and I would at least like her to see the place mostly finished."

Fred did a small laugh, "Should be very presentable. Chaz has to hang artwork and finishing touches Friday and Saturday but all done by Monday. You can start moving in Thursday evening and sleeping in by Friday." Chris thanked Fred profusely. Fred glanced at the piano. "Do you play?" Chris nodded with a smile and moved toward the piano. "Guys, break time. Living room pronto," Fred yelled. Once the crew of a dozen was assembled, Fred gathered everyone around the piano. "This is the young gentleman we are busting our asses for on this project, and is paying us handsomely to complete the project this week. He has offered to play on the piano for us."

Chris asked for suggestion: Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen, Barry Manilow--that turned a few heads. Chris apologize for having a very limited repertoire of these musicians but he started with "Born in America" and "Racing in the Streets." He shifted to Billy Joel's "Piano Man" and "Only the Good Die Young" and finished with Manilow's "Mandy" and "Unchained Melody." Chris stood and bowed to the enthusiastic applause and thanks. Fred yelled break's over and get back to work. Chris, Tom, Juan, Zack and Millie toured the unit. The master bedroom was finished except for art work and touches. The forest green head wall with the woven steel planks headboard was a focal point. Opposite the bed was a deco armoire. It was an inverted trapezoid of walnut trimmed in black lacquer. The door had a metal medallion of a woman with an ewer. Chris opened the armoire and found a large screen TV and stereo units. The bedside tables matched the armoire in shape and wood but had stainless steel tops. On the wall next to the bed was a chest of drawers with a deco mirror above it. At the foot of the bed was a small bench in walnut; it was long with three drawers under the padded seat. On the opposite wall was a high deco chest of drawers next to an empire full length mirror. Two fan back chair offered seating. The chairs was by the front window, which overlooked the park. Next to it was a small side table whose base matched the bench. Chris knew that this was to be his favorite place. Tom nudged Chris to look up. Hanging in the center was the most beautiful chandelier. It was all blown glass shaped like overlapping tongues. The glass was a frozen waterfall in shades of clear to yellow almost two feet in diameter. Chris found the light switch, which was also a dimmer; he slowly turned up the intensity and stood in awe. While the living, dining and kitchen was comfortable and elegant, this room was everything that was Chris.

Zack, who had wandered off to the bathroom, returned and pulled Chris urging him to see. The bathroom was large with a whirlpool tub and walk in shower with two heads and two hand held sprays. As Juan explored the controls, he pointed out that the shower could do both steam and dry sauna. He pointed to a large fan that led outside to prevent mold. A small separate room held the toilet/bidet combination. "Some fancy place to shit," Juan laughed, "Heated seat, warm air to dry, auto open and close, and even a night light."

Fred stuck his head into the bathroom, as the group ogle the toilet. "Best crapper around," he laughed. "even cleans itself. Put one in at home, and the wife loves it. Long way from my grandpa's outhouse." Everyone followed him like ducklings out of the bathroom. Chris took a quick look in the closet and said, "Oh shit." Everyone fit into the closet easily. "I'll never have enough clothes to fill this." Tom just laughed commenting that it would be full in a year. "Guys and ma'am," Fred said with a bow to Millie, "The crew is finishing up for the day, but I'll stick around a bit to answer any questions. The guest bathroom while having only a shower was just as nice as the master with the same toilet. The combination bedroom, office, and media room held an efficient desk, two large L-sofas facing a very large curved screen TV. A corner cabinet provides storage space. Fred said the entire sound system would be connected Friday. Speakers would be in every room, with Wi-Fi, security, and master server for the unit, which was in a small closet in the guest bedroom. Chris looked for the guest bed but did not see it. Fred was amused by Chris's confusion. "Guest bed is a Murphy bed." He walked to a small alcove next to a large walk-in closet. The alcove held a small sofa and two wall sconces for lighting. He pushed a button, the sofa folded up and a queen size bed descended. "Now here is the cool part." He pushed a button by the bed and the wall on the closet side started moving until it created a wall around the bed. As the wall moved a door into the closet opened to allow access to the TV/Office area. "The bed area is sound proofed so anyone watching TV will not disturb anyone sleeping." The gang was suitably impressed. Exiting through the closet, which had a hidden door to the bathroom, Fred pushed a button and the wall smoothly slide back hiding the door to the alcove. "The closet door to the bathroom automatically locks when the wall is folded up."

When everyone was back in the living room, Fred pointed out the gas fireplace, patio grill unit running off the same line as the fireplace and the general layout of the kitchen, without the appliances. "Any questions Chris?"

"I'm blown away. This is far more than I imagined."

"Well Liam and Chaz like you a lot and want you happy in your new digs." Fred clapped Chris on the shoulder. "If there is nothing else, I'm out of here." With that Fred shook everyone's hand, but gave Millie a kiss on the cheek.

"I guess I need to arrange a move this week. Recommend any movers?" Juan offered his brothers and a rental truck, which Chris accepted. He did a quick call and arranged for Friday. He knew Juan and Zack were panting for their own place. Chris called a Jazz Cab and they waited in Millie's unit until they saw the cab pull up. Back at Chris's place, Chris treated Tom, Juan and Zack to dinner at the Deli. He told Stella that he would start moving out tomorrow with everything done by Friday. Juan informed Stella that he and Zack would start moving in Sunday, since little needed to be done to the apartment. Stella moved into the booth with Chris and started crying; she said she would miss Chris every morning for breakfast. Chris's eyes were wet too but he assured her that he would still be back often because his friends were here.

Once upstairs in the apartment, Chris said, "I need boxes so I can start packing." Chris looked around uncertain where to start, but then realized little besides clothes and personal items needed to be moved. Zack offered to run downstairs and see if Stella had any boxes that could be used. While Zack was gone Chris looked at Juan, "I'll leave the TV and stereo since my new place is fully covered."

"Shit, Chris, yours is top of the line" Juan smiled back, "thanks, we appreciate it. We will pay you for it."

"Nay, consider it a housewarming gift." Chris knew that Juan and Zack's budget was tight, and he really did not need the money.

"Thanks, man." Juan gave Chris a kiss on the cheek. "Where do you want to start?"

"Let's unhook my computer, I'll leave the printer since I saw one in the office, but I want the laptop as a spare in my bedroom. Tom, could you take down the artwork. I want to take the laptop and artwork with me tomorrow with some clothes. I can get that in a cab." Chris pulled Post-it Notes from a desk drawer. "I'll put a sticker on everything that needs to go." Zack, with Benjie, was back with five smallish boxes for canned vegetables. Within thirty minutes everything was tagged: it was paltry little.

Juan looked around and said, "Guess my bro don't need a truck, just a car or two. I didn't realize you had so little."

Chris just tilted his head and shrugged with a wry grin, "Guess, you didn't realize how fully furnished the place is."

"Thank the lord," Juan grinned back because we could not afford to furnish the place."

"I need to make a list of things I need for the new place. Tom could you grab paper and pen and keep a list." Tom wrote furiously: bed linens, towels bath and kitchen (to coordinate with Chaz), glasses--water, wine, ice tea, dishes-- three sets--for every day, formal and parties--silverware, pots and pans (for Louis to recommend), small appliances (again Louis), drapery or blinds (Chaz), corkscrew, reminded Tom, which had everyone grin in agreement, Chris texted Chaz, who replies promptly that he had all that covered: linens, towels, dishes, glasses, and silverware and a "see you Fri.". Chris then texted Louis who responded that he would send a list tomorrow with items and brands. "It's nice to have friends who are experts, it sure makes it easier for me." Chris said as he leaned back into the sofa.

"Zack's been telling me about the sexy swimsuits you are wearing this week?" Juan said changing topics.

"Yeah, I'm worried about the very skimpy ones, especially the thong that changes color with heat."

Tom started to laugh, "Why are you worried about that? Your dicks fake and is ambient temperature." Both Zack and Juan looked at Chris to see if Tom embarrassed him. Chris just laughed, "I could put ice in my cum reservoir." Now Zack and Juan were confused, but Chris decided they did not need to know all the features of his deluxe prosthetic.

"Sorry, Chris, Tom; Zack and I need to bug out." Juan said as he stood and grabbed Zack's hand. "My boy needs his rest for work tomorrow and practice for the ballet. He has a lead role, which I am so proud of." Zack gave Juan a firm kiss on the lips.

"I can't wait to see you perform," Chris said. "I am bringing my sister to Saturday's performance. I changed my tickets from Sunday since I need to be in Chicago. She does not know about it. I want to surprise her."

"I'll invite you backstage after the performance." Zack said. "I can give you two passes on Thursday, since you are off Friday."

"Zack, you are the best. We both will love it. Now, I need to have something for her to wear because I know she is packing mostly jean and T's."

"I've met your sister." Tom interrupted. "I know by looking at her size." Chris looked at him questioningly. "I've been in the clothes business long enough to know sizes. What are you wearing?"

"I thought a tux. I have the one you bought me, but I have an offer for a free one from a designer down the street from Silent Models. I want to look cool and edgy."

"Then go naked," laughed Juan.

"I'd definitely be cool," Chris chimed back, "since it is going to be in the mid-60s."

"You don't need to worry about freezing it off." Zack shot back. Chris scowled at Zack then laughed.

Juan pulled Zack to the door, "Night guys,"

Tom moved close to Chris on the sofa, then put an arm around him. "Are you excited about moving?"

"Yes and no." Chris snuggled into Tom's shoulder. "I look forward to having my own place that no one can take from me, that can kick me out of because of who I want to be, but I will miss being away from Stella, Stan and Benjie. They are family."

Tom pouted. "What about me?"

"You, not so much." Tom gave Chris a dirty look until he realized Chris was teasing. "Yeah, I will miss having you close by, but I think it is good for my sense of independence and for you to grow to miss me."

"I miss you every night when I turn down my cold, cold sheets and you are not in my bed. I miss the way you creep into me as I sleep: the smell of your hair next to my nose, my arm around you." Tom sighed and looked directly at Chris. "I know I screwed up with Toby when we got to New York. I just want you to forgive me and let me back into your life the way we were in Chicago."

"That cannot happen Tom." The hurt in Tom's face was eviscerating, "I am not that same person. I am discovering who I am. I am finding out who I want to be. I am no longer the homeless waif you took pity on. I have more confidence in myself and in what I need to do to make me the person I want to see in the mirror. Granted I have my days, particularly with these hormones, which makes me beastly. But I am emerging, like from a cocoon, and you must be ready to accept the evolving me. I am not the same person I was two weeks ago. I am not the same person I was a week ago. I will not be the same person a week from now. I am struggling with all these changes. I am not sure it is fair for you to struggle with me." Tom frown ready to speak, but Chris continued. "but I want you to try." Tom pulled Chris into a hug and then a kiss on the forehead. "I want to do more than try." Tom whispered back. Twenty minutes later Tom rose from the embrace and said goodnight.

After Tom left, Chris spent some time packing boxes and suitcases. If Chris was to be totally moved by Friday, just three days, he needed to start now and hold out from the packing only what he needed to wear. Sleep was an absent lover for Chris: the anxiety over the next two weeks with moving, his sister, Chicago, St. Croix, Ariel's opening all crowded his path to the arms of sweet sleep. Well after midnight, he rose to wander around the apartment, lit a sandalwood candle, put on Sibelius's Symphony No 2, and sat on the floor to meditate. At first, thoughts rushed him like a rush hour freeway, but slowly he calmed, slowly he accepted the change, slowly he embraced the uncertain future as one might a long-lost friend--tentative and hopeful. Two hours before dawn he woke, on the floor, to silence. The music had stopped, but the candle still flickered, the lone light in the room. He blew it out with a huff and a smile, then crawled into his bed.

After a day mostly trying on swimsuits against backdrops, Chris headed over to Tuxed In. Chris opened the door to a cubby hole lobby with a receptionist, in her late fifties, bleached platinum hair, too much green eye shadow, and a dress reminiscent of Ma Kettle. "Yes?" came the high nasal voice. The question was neither friendly nor hostile nor curious. Chris decided that she was more annoyed.

"Could I see Ted please?"

"Did he hire you for the afternoon?"

"No, he asked me to stop by a few weeks ago."

"What's he paying you?"

Chris looked at her confused; she also saw his confusion. "Why would he pay me, although he did offer me a free tuxedo when I met him at Silent Models for an Association meeting."

"I'm his sister," she looked Chris over more carefully assessing her opinion. "I usually need to approve any rent boys. That man has a heart too big and a libido even bigger."

Chris suddenly blushed at what the reason she thought he was here. Then as he thought harder he found it funny and started to laugh. The sound spilling over the small reception desk and the larger lady. Once he calmed himself, he looked at the bewildered lady, "So sorry ma'am for laughing, but I found the idea that you thought I was a rent boy funny because that was a career option just a few weeks ago." She was not sure she liked that answer; she never found rent boys funny--she wanted to take each one home with her like lost puppies. "Tell Ted that Chris Wentworth is here. I'm the kid that slugged old man Duncan."

He face dropped, and she moved rapidly around the desk grabbing Chris in a huge bear hug. "I'm Irene. It is a real pleasure to meet you." Chris had difficulty breathing in the cleavage of her endowments. She pulled Chris partially away; he gasp for breath, and she pulled him back in for another hug. She pushed Chris back out without losing a tight hug. "You don't look strong enough to hurt a flea."

"Dad, insisted on self-defense lesson." Chris grinned back, slowly extricating himself. "Black belt, Third Dan, in mixed martial arts, but I haven't practiced for over three years."

"Impressive." Irene looked Chris over carefully deciding that she liked the kid. "Let me get Ted. He will be happy to see you." She went to the desk and pushed a button. "Chris," the quality of her smile made up for the excessive makeup. "If Ted tries to get fresh with you, you have my permission to pop him one."

"Who is the recipient of physical assault?" Ted said as he walked into the lobby.

"You, nincompoop." Irene turned toward Ted. "I told Chris that if you got fresh with him he could slug you."

Ted walked over to Irene and Chris. Turning toward Chris, "Sibling love is such a rare and precious commodity. Just bask in my sister's example." Ted turned and kissed Irene softly on the cheek. "Chris, you here for the tuxedo I promised?"

"Yes, sir,"

Ted put a finger to Chris's lips, "No sir, just Ted. You are family since my sister is defending your honor." Irene scowled at Ted, briefly.

"Yes, Ted, I am here to take advantage of your generous offer. If it is still okay?"

"Of course, Chris, a promise is a promise. I am looking forward to finding you the perfect outfit. Irene, do you want to lock the door and join use. I have no appointments this late in the afternoon." Ted gently wrapped his arm around Chris's shoulder and led him into the back area.

The back area was a direct contrast to the reception area. The back area was half a city block divided into an area of cutters, assemblers, sewers, and wardrobe attendants. The bulk of the building was split between bolts of fabric and clothes in various states of completion. Only a few eyes glanced up as Ted entered with Chris. A young man, mid-twenties, ran up "Hey, Ted, do you need help?" The young man was not looking at Ted. He was looking at Chris, actually at Chris's bulge. Chris returned the appraisal. The young man was wearing black skinny jeans, too tight, a yellow T-shirt, too tight, and an unlined linen sport coat in powder blue. The man's face was angular framed by neck length layered hair with blonde highlights Chris thought. He was attractive, but not his type.

"Easy, Jordan, keep your pony in the barn." Jordan just laughed. "Chris is here for the tuxedo I promised him. He is invited to an exclusive gallery opening by Ariel Greenwood. He needs to look his best."

"My needs have slightly changed." Chris interrupted, "I am going to the ballet and want something cool--fashion forward."

"Love the ballet?" Irene said.

Chris did not have time to answer Irene. "When and with whom?" Ted asked.

"Saturday and with my sister. She is in town this week as part of a high school trip, and I want to impress her."

"Are you and your sister close?" Ted looked at Irene.

Chris was not sure of the answer. "In soul yes, but proximity no. The first time I saw my sister was at lunch a few weeks ago after three years apart." Ted, Irene, and Jordan waited for more explanation but got none. "I want to rebuild what we have lost."

Irene moved close to Chris and grabbed his hand. "Never too late." She looked at Ted, "What are standing there for? Find Chris an outfit."

Ted jumped, "Yes Sir," and saluted his sister. "Jordan, what do we have in my experimental collection that can be completed in two days?" Irene stepped away from Chris as Ted and Jordan, now in professional mode, walked around Chris. "Blonde hair, blue eye, lascivious blue eyes, pale skin. Do you think complementary or contrasting?" Jordan asked.

"Both good options." Ted tapped his chin, "Bronzes, black, and orange."

"Yes, you are right, but I am not sure about the orange. Let me pull a couple." Jordan left. "I'm following to find a couple more."

"They seem to work well together," Chris observed to Irene.

"Jordan is Ted's apprentice. He just finished his masters in fashion design. Had several offers from the larger fashion houses but he likes Ted, his approach, and his sensibility. Ted likes his, enthusiasm, creativity, boldness and" Irene grinned, "his ass. Although I don't think Ted has made any advance," she moved closer to Chris, "nor do I think Jordan would rebuff any advances. I just enjoy the sexual tension between the two; especially since neither of them thinks it exists."

"Beware if they do discover each other, you could be in for a bumpy ride."

"I would like to see Ted happy. He is only seven years older than Jordan. Ted and I own this business. After my husband died, I was lost and Ted was struggling to find his way both professionally and personally. I was left a sizeable estate by my husband so I funded Ted's dream. The business is doing well. Ted designs for many of the fashion house, but it is never his name on the garments. I want him to make a name for himself. He is very talented."

"I am new to the fashion world. I am finding many sides of it tawdry or manipulative."

"How long in the business?"

Chris chuckled, "a month." Irene laughed too.

"You know that Ted and I are very close. You and your sister have not been in proximity for three years you said. Guessing your age, you were separated while you were still in high school. The results of a divorce?" Irene looked at Chris for confirmation. "Ahh," Irene quietly said, "I am sorry for the pain your parents caused you, but you are a remarkable young man. I see your strength, determination, and your ability to take your pain and make it not a hindrance but a spur." Irene stood next to Chris, although she wanted to hold him, she did not. "I think that is why Ted likes you. He can relate to some of your pain and determination to not let it cripple you. The colors I see around you bring me joy and peace." Chris wanted to say something but Ted and Jordan returned each with two garment bags.

"Got a few things for you to try on." Ted laughed, so did Jordan. "Now strip." Chris hesitated. "Com'on kid, Clooney, Pitt, and Banderas stood in their skivvies where you are standing now. If they aren't ashamed why should you be?" Chris looked at Irene.

"Chris honey, in this business, I've seen more penises than you find in a military barracks shower," Irene said. Chris reluctantly removed his clothes, less worried about being undressed than about showing his prosthetic.

Ted walked up to Chris and grabbed his crotch. "You have a first class one man there. Right now, it is part of who you are. If you are ashamed of it, you are then ashamed of who you are?"

Chris had never been so embarrassed, but he wondered why because Ted is right. "I am not so much embarrassed as afraid of how people will react."

"How did we react? Do we scare you?" Ted did a foppish pose. Jordan quickly mirrored him. Then did Irene.

"No, I am not afraid of you. Frankly, all my friends and coworkers, who know, could care less. We even joke about it. It is a master work of engineering. I can make it any level of firm, and it can even shoot fluids, although I have not tried that yet. Even better I can piss standing up, which is great in restrooms." Chris winked at Ted and Jordan. "I've had a few men check it out at urinals with positive comments."

"When pumped up it stays hard for as long as you want?" Jordan asked. Chris nodded. "Need to get my next boyfriend one of those. My last lost his stiffy after he came. He never did fuck me to heaven and back."

"You have never had an older man then. Us old geezers have staying power." Ted joked back.

"Need to find me an old geezer," Jordan smiled at Ted, daring him to take this conversation further. "Do you know any?"

"Might," Ted said quietly. "Now Chris back to you. Jordan, show him one of yours then I do one of mine."

Jordan pulled out a robin's egg blue tuxedo by the cut of the jacket. The jacket was textured with a pattern of interconnecting squares of different sized. Chris slipped into it; although it was too large, the feel of the fabric was seductive. The pants were black satin that slightly tapered to the knees and then flared slightly. Jordan pulled clips from his jacket pocket pulling fabric in so everything fit better. He was walked over to a fitting room mirror. He loved the look on him. The color of the jacket made his eyes bluer. Irene snapped a picture from her cell phone.

"That is a beautiful design Jordan. I like that the pants are black and emphasize the beauty of the jacket. What color shirt would you wear?" "Not sure," replied Jordan, "Black would be too much, so would any shade of blue. I would do white."

"Might I suggest a pale pastel shades or pink tie-dyed T-shirt." Jordan ran off and returned with a bolt of fabric with shades of pink running like water stains down from palest pink to raspberry. He held it up under the jacket for Ted to see. "I would add a black patent leather belt and same in leather ankle boots with a small heel." Ted nodded at Jordan's suggestion. "Wearing the shirt tucking would lose the color shift." Ted commented. "Right," Jordan said thoughtfully. "What if I cut the shirt so it and the pants share the belt. The shirt would match the loops in the pants." Ted and Jordan continued to discuss design option totally ignoring Irene and Chris.

"Do they act like this often?" Chris asked Irene. Irene just nodded like a mother watching kids play.

"Sorry Chris," Ted said, "We tend to get caught up in each other." Ted removed a tuxedo from one of his bags. It was traditional black, but the cut was not. It was more a military cut with the jack long narrowing below the waist, epaulettes with grey fabric buttons that match the one button on the jacket and the two on each sleeve. The collar was high and close to the neck with gold embroidery. As Chris looked at the jacket, he discovered that the threads ran diagonal toward the center of the jacket. The fit was perfect. The pants would be worn without a belt because they were fastened with one button similar to the jacket. What stunned Chris most was the pants; they had the same embroidery as the collar but starting around the cuffs until it was a single line ending on the outside edge by the knees. "You could wear any color shirt, but white would be better. And instead of a tie a beautiful batik scarf."

"This is very elegant," Chris said as he slipped from the tux, "but it is too formal for the ballet I think."

"When you get married to the man of your dreams." Jordan soothed Ted slightly bruised ego.

"Once I can convince the man of my dreams to marry me, which may be before you two finally marry each other." Chris laughed. Ted and Jordan looked at each other, lingered, and then laughed nervously.

Jordan pulled the content of his last bag out. "It was russet embroidered with yellow and brown leaves. The jacket rode high, well above the navel, with thin lapels and three-quarter sleeves. The pants were the same russet without the embroidery. The paints had no zipper but buttons of small acorns. Chris fumbled with the pants buttons; the awkward shape did not want to go through the eyelets. "The embroidery is phenomenal, and the fabric catches light beautifully and falls softly." Chris said. "But the acorns? I see people commenting that my nuts are hanging out."

Jordan laughed not the least offended. "They are more Hollywood or awards ceremony. I just wanted to see the tuxedo on your great body." Chris laughed and struggled again to undo the pants buttons muttering that it was good he had no urgency to pee.

Ted pulled out his last suit. Chris and Irene both gasped at the creation. It was a bronze thread woven in almost a large herringbone pattern. Each edge of the rectangles reflected light differently. "I've not seen this before." Jordan said to Ted; he reached out and felt it. "Silk...beautiful."

Chris slipped into the tuxedo. It flowed around him like water, molding to his shoulders and chest, narrowing, and then cascading away to his hips. The pants hung on rock like hips before the flow fell over to his feet. "I would wear a black silk shirt," Ted gave Chris an evil grin, "or better no shirt with black suspenders. You would also want shoes the same color as the tux." Chris looked at himself in the mirror. He was so stunning that he did not recognize himself. The color of the tux with his hair and eyes.

"Chris," Irene said as she took a picture this one, "this one is you, both solid and soft." She turned to Ted, "This is some of your best work, and Chris is the perfect person to wear it." Ted just nodded beaming. Jordan pulled Ted close and kissed him on the lips, which surprised and pleased Ted.

"This is the most exquisite piece of clothing I have ever seen Ted. I would be proud to wear it, but the blue one Jordan showed me might be more practical for the ballet." Chris looked at the blue one and then the bronze one unable to decide. "The bronze one. Sorry Jordan, I love yours too."

"Let's measure Chris up and get him on his way before Chris changes into his street clothes," Irene stated "I'll send you the pictures of the four outfits you tried today." She said to Chris while Ted and Jordan both measured without taking any notes.

"You can dress now, Chris," Ted said with a light slap on the butt, "You have a great body for clothes. The alterations should be easy." Chris dressed and stood by Irene. Ted and Jordan were huddled together like Siamese twins. Irene was smiling at the pair.

Dressed, Irene said to Chris, "Knowing these two, you can pick up the garment tomorrow afternoon after 4. Be prepared for a final fitting, more a formality." Chris acknowledged the information still watching Ted and Jordan moving closer together and then a quick furtive kiss. Irene took Chris's hand and led him to the reception area. "Let's leave them and see how things play out. I am so happy for the two to finally realize their feelings." Irene looked at Chris. "Did you say anything to encourage it?" Chris gave a who-me smile

Once back at his apartment, Chris stepped into the deli for a quick Reuben, Stella and Benjie sat opposite him in the booth. "We are going to miss you Chris," Stella said hesitantly, "but this is a very good thing for you, and we are happy."

Chris reached across the table and grabbed Stella's hand. "I know, it is very difficult for me too." Chris gave a weak smile, "I almost refused the offer."

Stella slapped Chris's hand hard. "That would have been damn foolish."

"I said almost. I am not damned foolish." Half-hearted laughs followed. "I should be totally moved out on Friday. I did not realize how little I need to move. I will take some clothes and other stuff over tonight and tomorrow night so little should be left for Friday. Juan and his brothers will help then, but it should not be much." I leaned in closer to Stella and Benjie. "I think they want Juan out of the house, so the sooner the apartment is free of my stuff, Juan and Zack can move in."

"I will want to do a little cleaning on Saturday morning before the place is theirs. You were a great tenant so the place needs little."

Chris sat back in the booth running a French fry in the ketchup. "You nervous about the move Chris?" Benjie asked watching Chris draw circles in the ketchup.

"Yeah," he ate the French fry, "but it is more than the move. My sister comes in on Friday for a week. I move Friday, meet with Chaz, the designer Friday, have a routine doctor's appointment Friday. Take my sister to the ballet Saturday. Fly to Chicago Sunday for a Monday meeting, then to St. Croix for location shoots. I am back Friday. That day is the opening of Ariel's new exhibit. Your invited Benjie. My sister leaves Saturday. I am just overwhelmed by everything and not being able to spend time with my sister. I have missed three years of her life." Chris tossed the half-eaten French fry into the ketchup.

"Hun, it will be fine. She is with her classmates, so it not like she is alone. School will be out for the summer soon and she can return for a longer visit."

"True, but I am realizing that the next week's frenzy may become my new normal."

"How old is your sister?" Stella asked. Chris pulled out his phone and found a picture he took when they met in Chicago. He passed it around.

"Shit, she is hot," Benjie blurted. Chris shot a warning scowl. "Chill bro, I got hormones moving through my system, but I'll back off." Benjie gave Chris a reassuring look. "Unless she says otherwise." What could Chris do but grin.

The conversation continued about Chris's sister, the reason for the visit, the nature of the class. Chris suddenly wanted Stella and Benjie to meet her. "Stella?" She looked up from Chris phone. "Could we reserve tables Sunday, I know it is your busy day and I promise we will be on time, but I would like to invite my sister and some of her class to breakfast here."

"How many?"

"Twelve in her class with two teachers, but I doubt all of them will want to venture out of bed before noon. Of course, me, Tom." Chris looked at Benjie, "and Benjie. I wish I could give you precise numbers."

"Text your sister," Benjie offered. Chris dash off a text; he included that he was buying to increase interest for her and her friends. She texted back seven for sure but she will ask tomorrow and have firm numbers by late afternoon tomorrow. "She says that Sunday is a free day."

Stella smiled, "We can do that. We can use the meeting room." Chris looked at Stella confused. "You've never seen it because it is used during the week for business groups. We can do a buffet so the numbers are not as important."

"What time?"

"Say eleven"

"Now I know why I love you so much. You are a lifesaver. I need to book a stretch limo." Chris's head whirled as he needed to plan more things. Without him noticing a piece of apple pie ala mode was set in front of him. He looked around and saw Stan wave. Chris waved back and devoured the pie. "I hate to eat and run but I need to move somethings tonight."

"Need some help?" Benjie asked. Looking at Stella for permission, who nodded approval.

"Sure, always need help."

Benjie helped pack clothes into two suitcases. As he packed he noticed Chris's leather jacket and pants. "You every wear these?" Benjie was caressing the leather.

"Yeah, a few times. It got me the modeling job." Chris pulled out his phone, thumbed through and showed Benjie the photo Gorky took."

"Holy, fucking shit Chris that is so hot." Benjie sat on the bed and stared at the picture, then thumbed some more. "No way man, you bare as a hungry man's plate." Benjie looked up at Chris. "You actually posed nude? I mean man, nude, nothing, nada?"

"My job is showing my body, usually with clothes, but I like these photos. I think they are art."

"No way man could I do it. I couldn't show my junk."

"My junk is not showing," Chris laughed, "Got none yet."

"But your ass sure is. Aren't you afraid others will see these."

"Was initially, but after no one seemed to be obsessing over them, I decided that my skin was my clothing and forgot the whole thing." Chris sat on the bed next to Benjie. "I like them because I look like a naked man, hairless, but still masculine. I use the nude photos for inspiration when I lose confidence that I can do the surgery and everything else that I need to do. It may sound weird but parts of my brain acts feminine. I worry that that portion may stage a coupe locking away my dreams of being fully a man."

Benjie sat quietly on the bed next to Chris, "Bro, you are a dude in the most essential ways. I have never pictured you as anything other than a dude. Sure, you're not a caveman dude, hulking and knuckle dragging. You are a sensitive, kind, and take no shit dude. You have the true strength that a man needs. You have big balls and the courage to show them off." Chris smiled at Benjie struck by the sincerity of Benjie's comments. Benjie stood abruptly, "Let's get this together and to your place."

It was a quick trip just putting clothes in the closet and the dressers. The emptiness of it all was appalling. Chris's things took so little of the available space. Benjie chided that everything would be overflowing once Tom moved in. Chris slugged Benjie on the shoulder for that statement.

On the way out from dropping off the items, the two boys stopped to see Millie. She was so happy to hear that Chris was moving in clothes.

Thursday at Silent Models was finishing up day: final photos in the skimpiest swimsuits, saying goodbye to everyone with hopes of working together again. Chris liked all the guys he worked with; though very different, they were professional and funny. Cynthia had a late brunch for everyone. Sledge and Dorn put together a slideshow of some of the funnier events of the last five weeks. Finally, each of the models was given a large box, like a shirt box, which surprisingly was what was in it. Although each shirt was a color to match the wearers complexion, they all had the same build in technology for WIFI, biometrics, and wearability, all were made of futuristic fabrics that either heated or cooled the body. Cynthia said as Chris was leaving that she would see him Tuesday and to enjoy the weekend with his sister. When Chris entered the reception area, Tom was waiting. He wanted to see the tuxedo Chris chose for the ballet and meet Ted and Jordan.

Irene bounce from behind the reception desk, pulling Chris into a generous hug. She looked at Tom. Chris introduced him as a friend; Chris did not see Tom's hurt at the cool introduction. Irene locked the front door, put a return at sign in the window and escorted us to the backroom. Immediately, Ted and Jordan ran screaming from opposite areas of the warehouse, "Chris, Chris, Chris," like five-year-olds. They both met Chris at the same time and formed a three-way hug. Then they stepped back and looked at Chris and each other. At Jordan's urging, Ted said, "We're getting married." Chris stood flummoxed for five seconds, recovered and offered congratulation. "After you left yesterday," Jordan said. Ted continued, "We both realized that we have loved each other for a very long time but." Then Jordan spoke, "but too afraid to say anything. We talked and talked." Ted added with a blushed, "Kissed and kissed. That decided it for us." Jordan, "we are soul mates and marriage is the next step, no need to date." Ted, "We have been dating for three years here at work. That's long enough before we popped the question."

Chris glanced over at Irene, who was beaming with joy. Chris pulled the two into a large hug, beckoning Irene to join the huddle. "I am so happy for you guys. You are so perfect for each other."

The hug dissolving, Ted looks over at Tom. "That young man your intended?" Before Chris could respond Tom blurted, "That is my intention. He's just a little slow on the uptake." Ted laughed. "I see what you mean about the kid being a tad on the slow side. Just means that you need to be more direct, `You, me ugg ugg.'" Chris turned to walk out, but Tom pulled his arm; the momentum pulled Chris around and into Tom's waiting kiss. "No one so dense that he can't understand that." Jordan said.

Irene grossed loudly, "Where's my man?"

Tom pulled Chris in front of him so that Chris's back was against Tom's chest. Tom had his arms firmly around Chris's chest. "Chris is a gifted matchmaker. Chris will find you the perfect man within a month." Chris choked, commenting that he was not a matchmaker. Tom tusshed him.

"I will hold you to it Chris," Irene laughed, but the laugh was serious. "Now to the fitting." She looked at Tom. "This is my favorite part." Then to Chris, "time to strip." Tom started unbuttoning Chris's shirt, belt and zipper of the pants before Chris was able to pull away to complete the task himself. "Tom, you got yourself a keeper. Don't screw it up." Irene looked Tom in the eye; he nodded agreement.

Ted brought out the bronze tuxedo with a black shirt and shoes. It was perfect. Tom felt the material, walked around Chris to examine the fit. Returned to the front, gazed up into Chris's face and was lost in this vision of a god. "This is an amazing garment. And Chris is the perfect person to wear it. Is this your design, Ted?" Ted nodded. "I am seeing the start of a new, important fashion house."

Chris carefully removed the tuxedo and started to dress when Jordan interrupted Chris, "Not so fast, you need to try this on too." He handed Chris the blue tuxedo. Chris looked around and dressed. Jordan cooed as he flattened a catch of the jacket on Chris's hip. "What do you think."

The shirt was not the T-shirt Chris had tried on the day before. It was silk with a high collar out of Jane Eyre. The shirt was black like the pants. Instead of a bow tie was a flouncy cravat, pale blue to midnight blue, held at the top with a blue periwinkle tie pin with seed pearl in the center. At first Chris thought the cravat was over the top for the subtle jacket, but then he realized that nothing else would work as well. Tom was effusive over the outfit. This was not the Chris he saw in the dinner with his dirty jeans and torn shirt. This is the elegant, confident man under the kid who needed a bath. "Jordan, you are a very cruel person. Both tuxedos are magnificent, but I can only take one and that must be Ted's."

"Who says you need to decide." Ted slyly said. "We want you to have both, one for the ballet and one for the opening."

"But, I can't. It isn't right."

"It is right if we say so," Irene said both hands on her hips. "This is our first chance to display Ted and Jordan's design sense. These clothes on you in these prominent places will be advertising which we are not in a position to obtain because we are unknown. You will make us known." Chris continued to object until Tom said they were right. Chris sputtered but acquiesced. Both garments were just too beautiful to refuse. Chris asked if they had cards he could pass out if anyone asked about the designers. Chris was given a stack of one hundred. Chris thought that was an ambitious number, but he graciously accepted them.

Tom and Chris went directly to Chris's new home; it did not make sense to take the tuxes to the apartment and then move them again. Chris spotted Liam on the patio. "Hey Liam, thinks are looking amazing." Liam was inspecting the work on the outside grill.

"Gabriel was very smart." Liam said without turning around. "When the owners of this building decided to go condo, Gabriel only agreed to buy if he could add a patio. He ran steel beams six feet into the floor of the unit, ran the gas line from the kitchen to the fireplace and then the grill. Sweet setup." Liam turned to Chris, the burners of the grill glowing. "You have a first-rate grill here Chris-boy. Six burner grill, warmer, deep frier--Gabriel never liked the smell of frying inside--and two side burners. Hope you like to grill because you owe me a thick steak."

"Man, I owe you more than just a steak. Without your help, I would be still waiting for permits." Chris moved closer to the grill to check it out, he noticed the faucet and small sink and a refrigerator under a prep area. "Need to get a large deck umbrella to protect people from sun and rain." Liam eyes sparkled with devious glee as he walked toward the sliding glass doors and flipped a switch. An awning in Van Gogh blue unrolled covering the entire patio.

"Gabriel was a man of simple tastes, simple but expensive." Liam laughed as he hit the switch again and the awning rolled back up. "Let's get back inside, so I can show you the kitchen. All the appliances are in and working. Your bud Louis selected you the best. He was a great guy to work with, understands the limitation you have with space and that this is not a commercial kitchen. He selected for looks too."

There were the two large double convection ovens abutting the patio. Liam said they vented directly outside to avoid heat buildup. Oddly the dishwasher was under the two ovens for the same reason. Chris ran his fingers along at the large grey granite farmhouse sink. Chris liked that the front of the sink was rough and unfinished. The countertops were yellow river granite. Chris lamented the lost space from the corner cabinet. Liam pushed Chris next to the cabinet and asked him to push on the top. Chris did and it slowly sank. Liam explained that as dirty dishes or pots and pans were stacked on it, the weight would lower the top to hid the dirty dishes. No one likes to see dirty dishes. He also explained that the top could lock and be used as a prep area. Next to the corner unit was a fridge looking like more cabinets except for the ice and water dispenser in the door. Chris ran a loving hand over the coffee espresso maker next to the fridge, and then more counter space.

Chris looked at the upper cabinets that extended to the top of the twelve plus high wall. Chris commented "I will need a fire ladder to access the tops of those."

Liam pranced with excitement, "Louis is a genius at kitchen design." Liam pushed a hidden button under the corner edge of the lower cabinet, From the corner came a panel of wood the morphed into a ladder that could slide in a track under the lower countertop. Cautiously Chris climbed the stairs, amazed at how sturdy they were. At the top he was still too short to reach the very top shelf of the upper cabinets. Liam smiled again and pushed a button. The entire cabinet unit descended two feet. "Cool," comment Chris, "way cool." "Ain't seen nothing yet laddie." Liam had the cabinets ascend and the ladder retreat to its cubby. "Like the backsplash?" It was pale yellows, white and occasional grey standing like grass at the back of the counter. "Your ID planned the counters and the backsplash. Since the ceiling are high, you have a higher backsplash than the usual foot and a half. I think you will love the lighting for the counters." Liam pressed a toggle and an even bright light flooded the counters. He turned the lights off and hit another toggle, taking a step back. The entire backsplash lit up. Liam smiled. "Nice effect. It has a dimmer feature too."

Chris stepped back in awe until his was stopped by the island. "Chaz is a true genius." Tom added, "Architectural Digest material."

Liam turned off the backsplash and directed Chris's attention to the island. The island was oval and two tiered. Toward the living room side was a high counter to seat four stools. The kitchen side was lower with the six burner stove top, below that two warming drawers and one for plates. Next to the stove was the wine cooler with the opening on the side of the island, while on the other side were three refrigerator drawers. Just below the counter and above the refrigerator drawers was a thin drawer for herbs and spices. A similar drawer above the wine cooler held knives. "I don't see anything for kitchen waste."

"Got you covered laddie. Disposal in the sink, Trash compactor below the sink, and..." Liam pushed an area between the warming drawers and wine cooler and out popped a garbage can. "Cool," Chris said. "Stove vent?" Liam turned on the stove and a small vent rose between the back of the stove and the raise counter. "This is a highly efficient vent. It pulls cooking air in through several filters until blowing out along the floor at your feet." Liam said smiling. "I'd show you more, but I have a hot date."

"Thanks Liam, this is far more than I ever thought or dreamed of. I am so happy I left it in the hands of professionals. This whole place would be Ikea."

"Nothing wrong with Ikea," Liam chuckled. "Have a few pieces myself, but this is your place, and you deserve it fully functional." Liam left with hugs and a final wave.

"Once Ariel sees this, Cheddy is in for a rough time." Tom snorted.

"What time does Chaz arrive?" Chris asked.

"About 9:30. Should be at my place by 10:30. Thought I'd take him to Brantley's for a snack and a drink."

"Drinks," Chris reprised. "I would like to join you but I am stressed out and beat like a dog that pissed on the Persian rug. Tell Chaz I will see him in the morning. At the Deli?"

"Sounds like a plan. say 8ish."

"Yea, good, because I expect Juan and his brothers by 7."

"Shit that is early."

"Food, home, pack a little and then bed. Can I treat you to supper." Tom agreed. "Ethiopian?"

"Ghenet's, I like their veggie combo."

"Deal." Chris locked his unit, his, and hailed a cab.