Chrysalis Part 3-Chapter 1
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 challenges, 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 1--You, me ugg ugg
Chris was nervous. He was flying Sunday to spend a week in Los Angeles where he was to meet with the Rising Star Talent Agency for a screen test. It was only a small part in a possible music video, but he had never acted before; sure, he did a play his freshman year of high school, but that did not count for experience. Helga was arranging for Chris to be enrolled in Equity, for everybody's protection. All potential contracts were being managed out of Dreamweavers--Central, Chicago. One less headache for Chris. All Chris needed to be was charming. Tom was along on sub rosa business for Dreamweavers. They wanted to expand into the L.A. market and Rising Star was hinting toward a buyout. Tom was to get a feel for the company and staff.
But what was sending Chris up the padded wall during this trip was meeting Tom's family. Even Tom was a little nervous, but he refused to admit it.
This was the first time Tom had brought a romantic interest home. The family met many of Tom's bedroom buddies but never one that had Tom's heart. Tom always felt the knowledge of his preference for men was safe with his family--it was Southern California--once he came out in his early teens. His parents provided condoms and lube and privacy in the bedroom. They treated him the same as his older brother and older sister, who were even more sexually active than Tom. Tom was uncertain about the preferences of his younger brother, Tracey. Sex, for his parents, was normal, fun, and plentiful.
While his parents were not swingers, they were not 100% monogamous. Both felt that monogamy was a social construct and not a biological imperative. It happened occasionally that Tom would come to breakfast and find a friend of his parents sitting in his or her underwear at the terrace table. Many were famous faces of film. To Tom they were just buddies of his parents. A couple of the younger male stars made it to Tom's bed without his parents complaining. His parents were the epitome of liberal and should not have reservations about Chris. So why was he nervous?
The sun glinted off the Pacific into Chris's eyes as they landed at LAX. It was a welcome like he was a sun child returning home. Chris smiled to himself--more confident.
Tom, much to Chris's relief, drove from LAX to their small hotel in Santa Monica, which was a boutique hotel. Helga had reserved a Deluxe Suite with King bed for the week, although Tom's parents offered a place to stay. Chris thought he was becoming jaded because the outside of the hotel was nothing spectacular. The main lobby was far more impressive with its minimalistic take on Craftsman style. But it was the room which impressed Chris the most with the large bed and enclosed patio with a fireplace. Chris was surprised that Helga booked a suite, usually she was more frugal. Since Tom and Chris would be working, and Tom might need work space for guests as part of his mission, she opted for a suite, which neither Chris or Tom complained about.
Chris stepped out on the patio and took a deep breath. He could smell the ocean but not see it, which disappointed him. Tom joined Chris on the patio, putting his arms over Chris's shoulders, asked, "Why so glum, hon?"
Chris leaned back and kissed Tom's jaw. "Not glum, just disappointed. I was hoping to see the ocean."
Tom laughed lightly while turning Chris around to face him. "Don't worry my Pop Tart. You'll see plenty of ocean when we drive to my parents' place."
"You've told me that your dad is a screenwriter and your mom is an attorney and you have three siblings and that your grandfather disowned your father. But you have said little else. What do I need to know before you throw me to them?"
"Both my parents are very successful and lucky. My dad was about my age when he moved here. He worked at a restaurant while trying to find a career. One of the patrons was a director lunching at his table. The director had a script in his hand and was swearing and drinking. He looked at my dad and said, `Bet you could write better shit than this.' and threw the script at him. My dad told the director that he could return the next day with an edit. The man laughed and told him to have at it. The rest is one Oscar and two nominations and a successful career."
"I thought shit like that only happened to actors sitting at soda fountains wearing tight sweaters." Chris did not think it was that simple, but then reflected on his own life since March. A cheesy pickup line led to Tom and his career. That single event, that sequence of words, Chris thought, was a catalyst that changed his chaos to order. How many other random events have changed the world. Chris knew he had to give this further thought.
"We should go." Tom pulled Chris back from his meanderings. "My mother is expecting us for supper at 7:30 and the drive can be anywhere from 30 to 90 minutes depending upon traffic."
"Where do your parents' live?"
"Malibu." Chris's eyes popped. "But not on the beach. We'll take the Pacific Coast Highway. You can see the ocean. It is a lovely drive."
"Which is why you changed out the Nissan sedan for the red Mustang convertible."
Tom just grinned--boys and toys. "I'm an L.A. boy and need my flash."
The sun was in the west but well above the horizon. Light licked the surface of the water, shadowed bluffs, and burnished the windows of homes. Chris breathed in the salt-tinged air as it blew across his face. He was one with the four elements of earth, air, water and fire. No conversation was necessary until Tom, now on a two-lane street, stopped before a gate. "Your son's home with his hand on his boyfriend's lap. Let us in before we do the dirty on the street."
There was a laugh from a male voice, "Wouldn't be the first time." The gate swung open on a long, tree lined driveway that ended at a low-slung Spanish style house with a large paved courtyard and a three car garage. As Chris looked, he realized that the house was built into the hill and the main entrance was the second floor. Tom parked to the side of the massive front door.
Before either Chris or Tom could extricate themselves from the convertible a lanky young man with bleached blond hair and crimson highlight bounded toward the car. "Hey bro." Tom reached out to hug his brother but the bro ran around the car and grabbed Chris, lifting him off the ground and spinning him around. "So, you are the man who tamed that lecherous sod."
"Tamed as long as I have my whip and chair," Chris said as he caught his breath. Chris looked at the young man and recognized the family resemblance to Tom: the same facial structure but with a little baby fat and similar blue purple eyes like grape jelly. Chris wondered if they changed color like Tom's did. "You must be Tracey."
"The same," Tracey said with an impish grin and a hand on Chris's rump leading him toward the front door, "and you must be Chris." Tracey turned to Tom and smacked him on the back. "How'd you manage to hook such a hottie." He turned back to Chris. "Most of the guys he dated, I use the term loosely, were real dogs. So ugly that their momma beat them with a frying pan just to pretty them up."
"Chancellor was not that bad looking."
"Yeah, right. If you only looked at his 10-inch dick. Guy had a schlong that almost hit his kneecap," Tracey confided to Chris. "Dumb as a brick and a face as pitted as a full moon."
"Some of your paramours have not been the best. Are you still dating Skate?" Tom turned to Chris. "Her nickname was Skate Board because she had tits so huge that you could stand on them like a skateboard. On a rainy-day, guys would shelter under them like they were an umbrella." Chris did not laugh. "And then there was Everett with the penis the size of a jelly bean and absolutely no ass."
Chris stopped at the door to the house. Looking at the two brothers laughing and joking, he shook his head. "I thought the meme of L.A. people being shallow and cruel was an exaggeration, but I guess not." Tom and Tracey were so busy trashing that they did not hear Chris. Chris let himself into the house, leaving the two brothers stupefied outside.
Chris was met inside by an elegant woman in her late forties or early fifties with medium brown hair sculpted to shoulder length. She was wearing red tailored slacks, a white silk blouse, and she was barefoot. "Hi, I am Miranda or just Anda. You must be Chris." She held out a manicured hand for Chris. Chris turned the back of her hand over and kissed her wrist. She giggled. "You are a smooth one Chris." She looked over Chris's shoulder. "Where are the boys?"
"Outside being idiots."
She gave a long-suffering sigh. "They bring out the worst in each other. Come meet my husband, Quentin," She leaned into Chris's ear. "but he hates being called that so just call him Quent." Chris walked through the mansion, although he doubted Tom would call it that. The entryway was walled on two sides with a short flight of stairs to the large living room with a spectacular view of the Pacific. The white walls supported a light wood plank ceiling with heavy beams. Oddly, to Chris, the stairs led up to a corridor and then down two stairs to the living room with its arched window and a fireplace to the right. To the left and up two steps was the formal dining room and patio doors to the terrace, which shared the same view as the living room. Beyond the dining room was a large eat-in kitchen that was larger than Chris's condo. Anda led Chris through patio doors onto a balcony and then into a sunroom with a fireplace.
"Quent, this is Chris." Anda said as she made room for Chris to meet Tom's dad. The man rose with the elegance of a swan. He was a good 5 inches taller than Chris, silver grey hair, and the Greenwood eyes of plum. It was obvious that Tom got his height and eyes from his dad, but his looks from his mother. Chris could have been intimidated by the man's earnest glare except for the Jerry Garcia T-shirt and cut-off jean shorts he wore.
"Pleased to meet you sir." Chris extended his hand.
"None of that. It's Quent or possibly Dad." Quent looked down at his clothes. "I'd hug you but I've been working in the vineyard. Small but 60 bottles of cabernet and Petit Verdot."
"You have a vineyard here on the property?" The excitement in Chris's voice was like a dinner bells. "If you don't mind, can I have a tour?"
Quent found a soulmate and practically dragged Chris outside, down the stairs and then down more into his vineyard "The grapes are still too small. We do not harvest until August or September. And with the drought, yield have been small. Fortunately, here, with the Pacific so close, we do get fog, which helps." Quent handed Chris a bunch of grapes. "What do you think?"
"The grape does not taste like it would make a cabernet so it must be a petit grape." Quent nodded. Chris popped a few more grapes in his mouth. "I like the sweetness with the acid. Once you crush all the goodness out of it, it would be a wine I would drink. Although my experience is very limited."
"You have a good feel for the grape. We should have an excellent vintage this year. I'll be sure to send you a case."
"Tell me more about raising grapes." Chris slowly chewed the last few grapes. Quent lectured Viticulture 101, 102 and 103 when a bell stopped him. "That is the call to return to the house. I need to shower, but I would love more talking grapes with you."
They took the forty stairs to the house where Chris joined Tracey, Anda, and Tom in the sunroom while Quent said he would return shortly. Tom grabbed Chris's jaws in both hands and twisted side to side. "Wanted to see if Dad talked your ears off." Knowing chuckles came from Tom's family.
Chris smacked Tom lightly aside the head. "Your dad is a wealth of knowledge. My appreciation of wine has grown immensely." Tom looked stunned.
"I already like your boyfriend, Tom. Doesn't take crap from you." A young lady spoke from the doorway of the sunroom. She was about 25 or 26 dressed in jeans and a black sequined T-shirt.
"Takes crap from me sis," Tom was indignant, "more likely gives me crap. You saw how he abused me."
"Oh, Tommy Wommy is so delicate." Chris kissed Tom on the check he slapped. Chris was uncertain why he said what he did this in front of Tom's family, but it felt appropriate. The room had erupted in chortles and guffaws.
"Tommy Wommy? I like that." Next to Tom's sister stood a twin of Tom, just a little older. "I'm Lincoln or Linc, Tommy Wommy's older brother." He walked over to Chris, pulled him off the loveseat for a hug.
Tom's sister was with him and as she hugged Chris introduced herself. "I'm Lizbette or Bette for family. You Chris are family even if you come to your senses and dump my asshole brother." She pulled Tom out of the loveseat and took his place. "As the oldest I have all the dirt on Tommy Wommy. We'll talk later."
"How long are you here for?" Linc asked. Linc dragged a chair over to sit on the other side of Chris.
"Until July 5th. Chris has a screen test for a music video, and I am doing work for Dreamweavers. We are staying during the week in Santa Monica. I assume it will be fine if Chris and I stay in my old room over the fourth weekend?" An older Hispanic lady entered the room and announced dinner in 30 minutes.
"That's Inez, she has been our housekeeper, cook, and mother confessor for 26 years. Mom hired her when I was born." Bette whispered in Chris's ear. "She makes the most amazing enchiladas." Inez gave Chris a light head nod.
"She makes the most amazing everything," Linc added.
Quent returned to the room wearing tan shorts and a green polo. He looked at Chris and gasped. "My poor boy, we are the worst hosts ever. We have not offered you anything to drink. You walk in our house, I pull you out to the garden for two hours, and then my negligent son, your boyfriend, has totally forgotten that you must be parched." Chris attempted to brush off the slight. "What would you like?"
Before Chris could say water, Bette yelled, "Margaritas." Then shaking Chris's arm like it was an attached leech continued, "He makes the best margaritas. You like margaritas." Chris politely nodded yes: he had one once at one of his mother's parties and was not impressed. But then that margarita came premixed.
"Want to help and learn my secrets?" Quent guided Chris into the barroom, which was next to the sunroom.
"Hey, no fair," belted out Linc. "You are showing Chris, whom you just met and yet refused to show us your secret. What gives?"
"Chris likes grapes." Quent eyeballed his son, settling the issue.
Dinner was served family style in the main dining room with the best enchilada Chris had ever eaten. Conversation was light and casual. Chris assumed that Tom told his family about how they met and his past because it was never mentioned. The only slight hiccup was Bette. "Chris since Tom met you in Chicago and said how amazing you are, I've been following you on your fan page."
"I don't have a fan page. Not that interested in social media hype."
"Sorry to say, but you do have a fan page with almost 250,000 followers. It is managed by Stephen. He has it hard for you. Anyway, he posts every clipping he finds about you: the evening with your sister, the Slacker's perv, the Backdoor take down of the behemoth, your dinner party, and of course everything at Jazzabel's. I do PR, and I try to find the latest trends, who the influencers are, and who might need my help. I was stumped with you because you carry the whole David Bowie androgynous persona so well, but then that left hook is so bad boy. You are a savvy gender bender."
"Sorry Bette, but right now I am between genders." All conversation at the table stopped. Bette frozen with a bite of enchilada inches from her mouth. "I start testosterone treatments next week. I had assumed Tom had told you that I am transgender." Chris sent a meaningful glare at Tom.
"That is way cool," blurted Tracey. "I have two friends at school who are transgender--male to female. They have it rough, and to know that you have the balls to be who you are is GOAT."
"I don't have the balls." Chris grinned at Tracey, "yet." The tension broke as everyone enjoyed a hearty laugh and life continued.
"Do you think you would have time to chill with us?" Tracey was sitting on the edge of his chair almost leaning into his plate waiting for a response. Chris thought back to his family and could not refuse. Tracey was his sister's age; they would make a cute couple. Chris looked at Tom, who winked. Chris laughed into his napkin.
With the last finger of sun on the edge of the sea, the meal ended around the pool with flan, churros and Quent's home brewed port. The conversation continued with photo albums, and about Hollywood, the music video business and life in New York. Tracey invited himself a visit before he started college at Stanford. By 10:00, Chris was fading so they said farewells and drove back to Santa Monica.
"I like your family Tom," Chris said with his goodnight kiss, "maybe more than I like you." Tom was already asleep in the large bed.
At 9:30 the next morning arrived by knocking at the door. Tom answered in his grey three-piece Dolce Gabbana suit, lavender shirt (to match his eyes) and floral tie with silver edges to the purple, lavender, rose and mauve flowers. "Good morning Mr. Greenwood. I am Jacob Wong with Rising Star. Mr. Tony Wong, the son, is waiting in the car to take you and Mr. Wentworth to our offices. I'm your driver." He blushed as he tried not to stare at Tom.
"Our ride?" Chris said as he came out of the bathroom in jeans and a grey silk shirt. Tom hid a snicker at the face of Jacob as it ogled Chris. "I dressed casual," Chris said to Jacob because I assume that I will be changing clothes."
"I do not know sir." Jacob stuttered, "I'm just the driver, but you look drip to me." Chris blushed and followed Jacob to the car, an Audi limousine with Rising Star painted in script on the side with stars for the dots of the I's. Jacob opened the door and one the passenger side for Tom and then directed Chris to the driver's side and opened the door. In the middle was Tony Wong, whom Chris remembered from Jazzabel's.
"Good morning, Tom, Chris. I hope your accommodations are satisfactory." Tom acknowledged that they were more than adequate. "I look forward to working with both of you this week." He turned and smiled at Chris, eyeing Chris from scalp to crotch. Chris squirmed in his seat. "Chris, you will be working mostly with my sister Natalie, whom you've met, and her team." Turning to Tom, "Tom you will be spending time with me and my dad." Tony stared at Tom, "I don't mean to be offensive but you seem a little young to be representing Dreamweavers."
"Mr. Wong," Tom smiled a smile that said pissed off but polite. "The management of Dreamweavers has every confidence in our skills; otherwise, they would not have sent me. If you object to my age then I suggest you call Stu and voice your concern. Chris and I would be more than happy to spend the week in Malibu with my parents."
Tony bit his tongue, "Again, I meant no offence. I am sure that the management at Dreamweavers knows what they are doing." The tone suggested that he did not agree with what he said.
"Mr. Wong," Chris joining the conversation startled Tony. "I understand your concern because you are the heir to the business, which you do not like or want, which is why Mr. Greenwood is here. You want a relationship with Dreamweavers where you can reap benefits without the work. You don't like actors; you think they are narcissistic asses." Jacob snickered from the front of the car. "Your real joy is restoring cars. To paraphrase Joseph Campbell, whom you admire, `follow your bliss'. Mr. Greenwood's presence here is to allow you to do that. Don't attack the hand that can set you free."
Tony Wong looked like he just swallowed a puffer fish. "I apologize to both of you. Your research on me is far deeper than I thought possible. You are very prepared, which I admire." Tony turned back to Tom. "You will have my full cooperation." Everyone was silent as the car turned left onto Wilshire Blvd and drove only a few more blocks
"Gentlemen," Jacob said as he pulled into a parking lot at the back of an office building. "I normally enter through the back door, but the main entrance is on Wilshire."
"We'll go in through the front," interrupted Tony. "We can meet the receptionist first." Jacob nodded and closed the doors to the car as Tony led Chris and Tom down the street and around the corner to the front of the building. The front of the building was full-length glass windows with one neon sign for Rising Star; on the door were office hours of 9-5 and closed from 12-1 for lunch. Tom looked at Chris, who only shrugged. Inside was modern: a glass table as a reception desk with the phone and computer se off center so the receptionist was fully visible. A sofa, several chairs and a coffee table, which showed the start of wear, filled the remaining space. Behind the desk sat the receptionist filing papers into a portable file cabinet. She did not look up as the three entered; she did not look up as the three approached; she did not look up until Tony spoke. "Angelica." She looked up and resumed filing. "Angelica, I need to introduce you to Mr. Greenwood and Mr. Wentworth." She looked up and eyed Tom like a slice of pizza. "They will be here this week. Mr. Wentworth is here for an audition and Mr. Greenwood is representing Dreamweavers. I expect you to be helpful to both gentlemen."
"You can count on me to offer them anything they need." She eyed Chris and licked her upper lip. "A-n-y-t-h-i-n-g." She grinned; Chris wanted to hide behind Tom.
Tom took Angelica's hand and kissed it. She almost had an orgasm. "I and my boyfriend appreciate the offer. I am sure that we can count on your assistance." Angelica sighed, disappointed that two hot men we gay. Tom went off with Tony Wong while Chris followed Natalie Wong, who appeared at the front desk.
When Chris returned to his room after 7:30 PM, Tom was already there in jeans and a white T-shirt, channeling James Dean. "What a fucked up mess," Chris said as he threw himself on the loveseat in the room. "So disorganized. Natalie knows what she is doing but nobody listens to her. It is always another Wong contradicting her with bad ideas."
"The place has a bad case of nepotism." Tom sighed as he sat next to Chris and handed him a glass of wine. "Mr. Wong, the old man, has an eye for talent and has signed several good potentials. But since he has stepped back, the kids each think they own a part and run as they will. I asked about Felix Moser." Chris remembered the man from Chicago. "They fired him because he wanted a raise for bringing us together."
"Do we want to find him and offer him a position?"
Tom took a deep drink that Chris suspected was his second glass. "I think not. I've reported back to Stu and Helga. They are ready to cancel the talks, but there is potential in this market and the bones are still good. I would appreciate you keeping your eyes open. You have a knack for spotting talent."
"I'm starved. Want to hit the Pier. Natalie says there are several good restaurants there." Tom slipped his shoes on and grabbed light jackets against the ocean breezes. They found a nice seafood restaurant, dined, drank, returned to the hotel, and retired for the night.
The next morning, only Jacob picked the pair up. Chris started a casual conversation about Santa Monica, L.A., and Rising Star. Jacob was a basket full of information, gossip, and insight. He lamented how badly the company was run and how much he loved his grandfather. Chris spent the day with Natalie and Greg Li, Natalie's brother-in-law, discussing the music video based on the song by their newest contract. Natalie had insight and talent, which Greg Li always shot down as too expensive, too immoral, or too edgy. His ideas would never be seen on MTV, ever.
Chris left Greg and Natalie that day frustrated. Tom's day was no better with Charlie Wong, CFO, and his wife Hilary, who was the director of marketing.
The family was overpaid for their positions, and they spent too little on developing talent, which was then poorly marketed. Both Tom and Chris participated in a video conference with Stu, Helga, Cynthia, and Adam. Despite the frustration of the personnel, Chris was impressed by the talent of the singer and Tom by the market value. Stu was going to pressure Mr. Wong the senior to sell for cash by Friday. It was agreed that Tom and Chris would stay another week if the sale happened. Helga was sending Tom and Chris contacts of those who might be interested in working for Dreamweavers-West. It was almost 10:00 PM when Tom and Chris went to supper at The Speak Easy, a local joint Jacob recommended.
Wednesday morning, Jacob arrived at 9:00 like usual but neither Chris or Tom were ready to leave. Tom was on the phone with his dad looking for business contacts. Chris was on the phone with Natalie plotting out the music video and how to override Greg. Chris snickered to himself as he watched Jacob drool over Tom, shirtless, until he threw on a crimson polo over black slacks; he was going to be comfortable when he, Stu and Mr. Wong Senior had their conference call at 11:00 AM Pacific time. Chris firmed up plans for him and Natalie to have lunch. Jacob looked at the two of them. "You look like you're planning a takeover," he said with a slight frown. Tom choked on the coffee he was quickly downing.
"Not a takeover," Chris said, "more a rescue."
Jacob nodded, "Good, got my support. I love my gong-gong, grandfather, and parents but they need a career change."
The showdown with Greg was anticlimactic. Chris said this was the way the video would be shot, using most of the ideas from Natalie; Greg waved his hands and said fine and left the room for a long lunch. Natalie and Chris looked at each other and laughed. "Don't know what charm you have Chris, but he has never backed down. Glad to have you here." They went to lunch at a small bistro that Natalie loved. There Chris told her what was being proposed. After the first shock, she said she understood because the agency was floundering. Chris told her that they would be keeping her on. She looked at Chris. "You have been with Dreamweavers since April and you have the authority to make that decision?"
"I do not decide, but I recommend. My opinion is valued, as yours will be as part of Dreamweavers-West." Nat, as she liked to be called, was all in; change would be good. They returned to the agency, which was in an uproar: Senior had agreed to the terms. The screaming, yelling, and banging of doors would make a sorority proud. Chris told Tom he was heading back to the hotel to call Blaine, who was training at Cedrick's L.A. hotel. Tom followed an hour later. Letting the family resolve their issues, but the deal was done.
Blaine arrived at 7:30, dressed in a crisp Italian suit, pale yellow shirt and plaid tie. The young man Chris had met at Chaz's party wearing only a gold thong, was now confident, self-assured, and poised. Chris loved the new Blaine. They chatted for a bit about Chicago, New York and why they were in L.A. before leaving for the 9:00 PM reservation at Spago.
Spago's was an initial disappointment because Chris was expecting a very elegant restaurant, with dark fabrics, heavy crystal chandeliers, and lushly upholstered chairs. It was more of an IHop with nice table clothes. Chris could not help but glance around noticing a couple of people he recognized from movies and TV, but there were not that many, not like rocks on the beach. The food was excellent, but very expensive, but then so were some restaurants in New York.
Blaine was talking about how wonderful it was to work for Mr. Greenwood, when a very handsome young man interrupted, Chris recognized him as a character sometimes on NCIS Los Angeles, "Sorry to interrupt." He said to Chris. "Are you Chris, the Chris that performs sometimes at Jazzabel's?" Chris acknowledge that he was. "I was in New York a few weeks ago and saw you. You are amazing." Chris blushed. "What brings you to L.A.?" Chris explained the music video with Rising Star. "Rising Star used to be a reputable and successful agency until the kids took over. You'd be better off with another agency." Chris explained that he was only under contract with Rising Star through Dreamweavers. "Good group, wish they had an office here. They have a strong reputation for integrity and respecting their talent." Tom let slip that Dreamweavers had just bought Rising Star, but it was still hush-hush. The young actor could tell others only when it became official. After the man left, Tom snarked that the rumor will be around town by tomorrow night. "We will have new clients by Monday."
Blaine picked up the tab as thanks for Chris connecting him with Mr. Greenwood, Cedrick Greenwood he clarified. He was also very excited that he was going to Rome in September to train. He lamented that while his sex life was far from stellar, he had not found Mr. Right. Chris left Blaine with a promise to meet if he was in Milan for Fashion Week. Tom said they would be there.
Thursday, wearing fashionable ripped jeans and a local band T-shirt, Jacob picked up Chris and Tom. "You blew smoke into the hornet's nest," Jacob laughed as Chris commented on how relaxed he looked. "And the queens fled the hive. Just us worker bees left."
Jacob was not exaggerating. "Where is Angelica?" Tom asked.
"Went with her sugar daddy, Tony. They are sort of an item. They have a very giving relationship. He gives and she takes. She was horrible at her job, but Tony liked her close; kept other men out of her hoochie." Jacob locked the front door and turned the sign on the door to closed. "Only Gong-gong, for his last day, Nat, Peony and I are here. The rest packed up and fled like vampires at dawn." The halls were eerily quiet. "If you need help, I am here as is Nat. She knows more of the business than I do, but I start my college programs for Entertainment Management at UCLA in September. I want the practical experience too." Tom assured Jacob that they would find a place for him. Chris went to find Natalie while Tom sought out Mr. Wong. By the end of the day, they had interviews scheduled. Natalie shifted from planning the video to reviewing the books, which were in disarray and suspicious. Tom and Chris agreed that each would interview candidates. If they liked them then the other would interview. Natalie would continue to work on the books and contracts.
Friday the agency remained closed and Helga was in the conference room directing Natalie to find files with contracts. She looked up, a broad smile on her face. "There's my sexy man. So glad you're here and to see your sunny face in this gloomy place." Chris rushed over to her, and as she stood, he kissed her on the lips. "My, my, my old heart is all aflutter." Then she laughed and Chris did too. "Didn't think you would walk into this shit show when you flew in?" And she laughed again, a laugh that rang home, security, and love. "You have three people coming in today for the CFO position." Chris looked at Natalie, concerned that she would be left out on the street. "Natalie has agreed to be the COO." She winked at Chris. "If you agree." Helga turned to Natalie. "Chris has the best instincts about people and talent. He reads people accurately, so his opinion is always valued."
"Jacob told me what you said to Tony in the car the other day. He said it was spooky how you read him to the bone. So, Helga, I trust him too." Nat was adjusting to the change and liked how business professional Helga was without being stuffy, condescending or arrogant.
A very young lady of about 14 or 15 entered the office wearing jeans and a Harry Styles T-Shirt. She was obviously a Wong from her face, but she was bright, energetic and professional. "This is my niece Peony," Natalie said as an introduction. "She is our receptionist today and is doing a very good job."
"A dyslexic monkey with a yeast infection could do a better job than Angelica." Peony, put her hands on her hips as if she were a scolding teacher. "Oh shit, that was not very professional. She was worthless, so I do not have a high bar to meet." She looked Chris over. "You must be Tom's boyfriend. You're hot. He got the better end of the deal when he hooked you."
Chris laughed, "I hooked him and am glad every day that he didn't get away."
She scrunched her face as only a fourteen year old can. "Love is blind. Your 9:30 appointment is waiting in the conference room. I have already offered him a beverage." She handed Chris a manilla folder. "Resume inside. You may want to review it before you see him. It is always best, my Grandfather would say, to keep people who want something waiting." She turned and flounced out of the room.
Chris looked at Helga and Natalie; all three cracked up. "She will be running this business in ten years." Chris sat in a chair and read the resume, which was impressive.
Chris had three interviews: 9:30, 10:30, and 11:30. Only the last was asked to return in the afternoon to meet with Tom, Natalie, and Helga. Tom had two for Chris to meet in the afternoon. Natalie directed everyone, including Jacob and Peony, for lunch at Little Fatty, a Chinese restaurant. It was not much to look at from the outside or inside, but it was the best Chinese food Chris had ever eaten. Chris looked at Natalie, Jacob, and Peony and smiled: enthusiasm and talent, although raw, would preserve their grandfather's legacy.
The two afternoon interviews for marketing and talent recruitment were very talented and professional. Neither were condescending toward Chris like the first two in the morning. Chris fully understood that he was young, even by Hollywood standards, for making decisions, but Stu and Helga had confidence, and he would not disappoint them. The best and only hire of the day was Lydia Brown as the receptionist. She was an older African American woman of about 55 who was terminated from her last job because her image did not meet corporate standards--meaning she was old and starting to grey; they wanted a younger, more youthful public face. She understood the phones, computers, and running an office. Even more important, she knew people. She and Chris hit it off immediately when she started to rant about the state of the reception area during a tour. Chris sat with her after the last interview discussing L.A., which she grew up in, Watts specifically. She said she once had a date with Sammy Davis Jr., when she was much younger, and he was much older. She laughed at how naive she was back then, but did not regret the experience. "Bad experiences are more educational than good ones." she told Chris with a wicked laugh. Chris understood the truth of that.
Helga had a room at the same hotel as Tom and Chris, so they went out to supper that night to discuss the future of Raising Start, soon to be Dreamweavers-West. At supper Tom asked Helga to spend Saturday, the 4th with them at his parents. She could watch the fireworks with them from his parents' patio. The way he said the last nudged a suspicion in her.
After a light breakfast, Tom, Helga, with a floppy straw sunbonnet firmly tied to her chin, and Chris were off to Malibu, with Chris scrunched in the cramped backseat of the Mustang. The day was a cool 79° and overcast, but no rain, which was a relief from the 90° the day before Chris and Tom arrived. While Tom and Helga talked, Chris drifted with the wind on his face and running races in his hair. The ocean was blue with what the local stations said was moderate surf. But Chris saw , snow on mountain peaks with trolls lurking in the froth. Inhaling the salt laced air and the exhaling slow and steady, Chris centered himself. He was off the estrogen therapy; his mood swings were more controlled, but would it last when he started testosterone therapy? His periods would almost disappear. The curse would be gone. The rest of the physical transformations he was not sure of: the voice deepening, more muscles, a more masculine face, and likely male pattern baldness. Chris imagined himself with a shaved head, short beard, and a basso voice. He liked the image. Less appealing would be the increased horniness and the enlarging of his clitoris. Even more troubling was the emotional changes. He might become less emotional or unable to feel some emotions; he was told that the nature of relationships may change. If it meant he would no longer love Tom, would it be worth it? He was successful and happy. Why rock the boat? The steady rhyme of the car and the warm air lulled Chris to sleep with those thoughts.
"Wake up sleepy head," Tom gently shook Chris, who moaned and then stretched, "We're home." After Helga exited the car, Chris pulled himself out of the backseat, stretched his arms high over his head and bent, palming his hands on the pavement. "Fuck, your limber," laughed Tom as he took Chris's elbow and escorted him into the house.
Tracey raced toward Chris and hugged him. "So glad to see you again, let me show you your room, actually Tom's room. You're staying the night?" Chris looked back at Tom, who had a backpack in his hand, so he told Tracey they were. "That's great, Dad's doing steaks on the grill. Mom's doing her firework's salad, molto caliente. And Inez is making her rum flan. It's the bomb." Chris waved weakly at Tom as Tracey dragged him away.
"Seems my family likes Chris better than me." Tom gave Helga a doleful look.
"Do you blame them." Helga slapped Tom on the wrist. "He is a better person than you." Tom stared at Helga, laughed and agreed. He took Helga to meet his parents and then to the guest suite.
Quent cooked thick steaks on the grill while most of the family enjoyed the pool. Chris stayed with Quent. Since the grill was on the top level overlooking the pool, Chris looked down at the siblings playing in the pool. Tom and Tracey were trying to dunk each other with the help of the Bette and Linc. The sound of laughter echoed off the side of the house. "You and Anda raised great kids. You must be proud of them."
Quent moved the steaks to the side of the grill and sat next to Chris. "Yeah, we did alright. But it was bloody hard in L.A. with the wealth and drugs. And Anda and I working long hours. At least I could work from home once computers were around. I had my doubts about each of them off and on, but they have their heads screwed on right. They never got into drugs. granted they did pot. But that is as ubiquitous here as designer water. Can't tell them not to when Anda and I occasionally have." Quent took a sip of his martini. "Tom, while he talks about you often, has never mentioned your family. Is it large and supportive?"
Chris sipped his Aperol spritz debating what to say. "I have one sister who is three years younger than me." He took another sip, Quent looked at Chris like he did not expect any more information. "My parents kicked me out of the house when I was sixteen because I was transgender." Quent said nothing. "Thanks to Tom, I have reconnected with my sister, who is a remarkable young lady. My sister arranged a meeting," Chris laughed softly, "ambushed a meeting with my mother. I think we are on a positive track."
"I am sadly not shocked by your parents' reaction. You are very forgiving. I know how hard it is to be a disappointment to your father." Quent looked into his martini glass and stared at the empty olive pick. "But you continue to be your own person. Tom loves you; I doubt he has said it, but he does. And Anda and I are so thrilled that you are in Tom's life. He needs an anchor, a home port, a guiding star. You are that. His mother and I worried that the shallow nature of modeling would corrupt Tom, lead him away from core values. But with you he is far more focused and centered in himself. Thank you Chris for that." Anda joined them by the grill and sat next to Chris. Looking up at her, he said, "I was telling Chris how much we appreciate his relationship with Tom."
"It has been several months since we have seen Tom," Anda added and then continued. "The last time he was here, he was a wasp without a hive. His boyfriend Toby was texting several times a day. He was a snake using him, and Tom was too besotted to see it." She quieted as she thought. "We talk every week. Since he has met you, we talk mostly about you. He is so besotted, but I know that you will not hurt him."
"Toby is no longer in the picture." Chris did not want to go into all the sordid details, if Tom had not told them. "That in itself is a sigh of relief. Toby is not a good person by any standards. As for Tom and me. I love him. I loved him from the first moment I saw him in a window at Macy's in Chicago. I am not sure where our relationship will go, but I will do nothing to intentionally hurt him."
Anda's gentle smile said she understood. "Are the steaks done because Inez is finishing the flan and everything else is ready to serve." Quent told her to ring the bell. Within ten minutes everybody was at the patio table grumbling for food. Bette asked how Chris and Tom met. Tom and Chris co-told the story about his asking for a light. "So, Ingred Bergman," Bette squealed with delight. "Hope my future husband is so romantic."
Tracey asked about Chris's sister. He had seen the picture in the New York paper. He thought she was hot. "Yes, she is. And my father insisted she learn self-defense." Tracey only said, "cool".
Inez served her flan for dessert, which was the best Chris ever had. She was asked to join the family but declined because she needed to see her bambinos. Linc said that her children were in their forties. We laughed until Anda called each of her children her bambinos. The topic switched to Helga, who told embarrassing stories about Tom. Tracey asked if she had any about Chris. She replied that Chris was too perfect; then told the one about the biker bar, which Chris did not know she was aware of. Chris blushed, which cracked everyone up.
As the meal was winding down, Bette cocked her head at Chris. "Heard you play a mean piano. Would you play for us?"
"I would gladly play in payment for the fine repast and convivial persiflage. Led on to the ivories." Off the patio was the family room with a full bar and the most delicious Baldwin piano with a six-candle candelabra on it. "Reminds me of Liberace's piano," Chris jested.
"It is." Quent said with a wink. "We bought this house with the piano and candelabra in it. The previous owners said they bought it from Duke Goldstone, who was the producer for Liberace's TV shows in the 50's. I have no reason to doubt it."
Chris sat with a flourish, miming that he had a tux with tails, ran his left hand down the keys in an arpeggio and started playing "My Funny Valentine" then riffed into Billy Joel's "Just the Way You Are." He played several more pieces from Chopin, to Gershwin, to Elton John and ended with "I'll Be Seeing You", Liberace's theme song. He stood, did a deep bow and said, "Thank you from me and my brother George." Only Anda caught the reference, as he looked out at the enthusiastic faces of Tom's family. He loved Tom's family.
Tom walked over to Chris, handed him a glass of ice water, looked at his family, and knelt on one knee. "Chris Wentworth will you marry me?" The room froze like a still life: hands raised, heads turned in conversation, laughter frozen in the air.
Chris stared down at Tom at first caught off guard. This is what he wanted with every fiber of his being. "Tom Greenwood. I love you with all my soul. Marrying you would make me the happiest man in the world. But I must say no." Chris turned and walked out onto the patio, clutching his glass of water like he was holding the ocean. He set his glass on a table, and stood at the railing looking at the Pacific rise and fall like the workings of massive lungs. He knew he hurt Tom deeply, but better now than later. Tears fell, but he would be strong. He pulled out his phone to call a cab, but he did not know the address. He pulled up his map app to find his location. A hand lay gently on his shoulder.
"That was one of the bravest things I have ever seen." Helga smiled at Chris. "I know that you are worried about your transition and what it will mean, how hard it will be on you and the people that love you. But it was also the stupidest thing I have seen. It is precisely what you will be going through that you need people around you that love you. And Tom loves you to his core. He will be strong for you." Chris knew she was right, but did Tom deserve the pain? "It should be Tom's choice not yours." Helga said as she turned Chris to face her. She took a lace handkerchief from her bosom and wiped Chris's wet eyes. Chris wanted to laugh at how matronly the simple act was. "You need to talk to him." Chris nodded and turned back to face the ocean. Chris wondered if he started swimming could he swim to Japan.
Gentle arms encircled Chris, pulling him close to a warm chest and seductive breathing on his right ear. "Chris, I love you, but if you do not want to marry me, I will accept your decision. But you owe me an explanation."
Chris turned around, still tight against Tom's chest. "I am scared, I am scared to death, Tom, that I will hurt you or change, and no longer be who you are in love with. Next week I start testosterone treatments. The good part of it is that my gender dysphoria will be reduced, I will become more masculine, my curse will be lifted, and my libido will increase."
"I like all of that, especially the horny." Tom smiled down at Chris with so much love that Chris lost his train of thought for a moment.
"The bad side is my personality may change. I will be less emotional; how I react to you may change, which is the worst besides the possibility of acne and male pattern baldness. I don't want to become someone other than the one you love. Who you see now will not be who I am in six months."
Tom looked at Chris and did not say anything as he let go of Chris and sat in a chair. Chris willed himself to stand straight; this is what he needed--to set Tom free. Tom patted his lap for Chris to sit on his lap. "Chris, I was with you through your estrogen treatments. Do you remember the mood swings?" Chris nodded. "Was that you?" Chris said no. "Chris, sorry but that was you at that time--Queen Bitch. But that was only part of you, a small part, The other parts; the funny, talented, sexy, aggravating, loving, kind, and compassionate parts of you were there too. I love you both the Queen Bitch and everything else. How you react to the new round of hormone treatment, we will need to adjust too because all the other parts of you that I love will be there too." Chris leaned his head on Tom's chest, holding back tears. "I see you as a fascinating but incomplete person. You are a piece of Michelangelo's' marble that he has just started to carve. I want to see the finished work and stand back in awe. If I get covered in marble dust along the way; it is the cost of seeing the creation of a work of art."
Chris leaned back to look into Tom's eyes. "Thank you."
"Again Chris, will you marry me?" Chris could not find words so only nodded. "We have a room of people anxiously waiting for us, my future husband."
They returned to the family room with Quent opening champagne and rounds of congratulations and obscene comments. Chris leaned into Tom's ear. "You're right. We are stronger together," then louder for everyone "how does Greenwood-Wentworth sound?" Several boo. "No, my intention is to drop Wentworth and carry only Greenwood for here is my heart." Chris tapped Tom's chest, "and here is my family." He motioned to everyone else in the room. There was no cheering, except from Tracey, only raised glasses from Chris's family in affirmation. Chris went to Quent and Andra asking if he could call them Dad and Mom. Andra blubbered a yes while Quent pulled Chris into a hug calling him son.
The sound of explosions broke the solemn mood. "Fireworks," yelled Tracey as he leapt from the floor, where he was sitting, and ran to the balcony. The entire family watched with childish delight.
Tom pulled Chris away. "Chris, my love, my future husband, the husband of my heart, you me slip away and ugg ugg?" Chris followed Tom to their bedroom and quietly closed the door to the world.