Bennies Wish Part 1

Bennies Wish.

Xara X. Xanakas.

Chapter One.

"It was a dark and stormy night."

ALLY looked at his computer screen with a mischievous smirk. This latest ma.n.u.script would take the cake. He knew it was bad. Laughably bad. Intentionally bad. So bad those cheesy parody movies would say it was awful. looked at his computer screen with a mischievous smirk. This latest ma.n.u.script would take the cake. He knew it was bad. Laughably bad. Intentionally bad. So bad those cheesy parody movies would say it was awful.

He had three rejection e-mails filed away on his system. The printed copies of the ma.n.u.scripts that matched those rejections sat in a drawer in his desk. Each one of those had been a masterpiece, at least to him. He'd poured his heart into those novels. Thrillers were his specialty. Dark stories about unforgivable men doing unspeakable things. He loved writing. It let him live-truly live. His heroes were always tall, raffish figures. They were cops, private eyes, and FBI agents. Brave men who foiled the bank robbery, or saved the kidnapping victim, or thwarted the plot to overthrow the government.

His heroes were everything he wasn't. No author in his right mind would build a hero like him. Too short, too pale, too pudgy, too bald. He'd never be anyone's hero. Too many cons, not enough pros. In fact, he had exactly one pro. He had something huge in his pants. Something so big, men and women lined up to get their hands on it, no matter what he looked like. So fat, their mouths watered, and they would tell him whatever they thought he wanted to hear just to get him to pull it out.

His wallet.

Usually stuffed with cash and credit cards that, when they had a limit, it was so high that his newest, bestest friend of the moment couldn't hit it in a year. He'd had the luck to be born to wealthy parents, but after college, he turned down the huge trust fund they had set aside for him. Instead, he took a modest portion of it and invested it, managing the a.s.sets himself. The rest of the fund went into a foundation he set up. He was aware enough to know he'd hand the money out to anyone who came asking, whether the request was reasonable or not. His role kept him in the background overseeing the investments. Far away from the eager hands reaching for his wallet.

Every person who pa.s.sed through his life wanted something from him. His parents just wanted him to carry on their name. And what a doozy they had saddled Ally with-Aloysius Theodisius. His friends-if you could call them friends, anyway-just wanted the free ride that came along with his wealth and status. They wouldn't do anything to rock that boat. When they read his books, they had nothing but rave reviews-"the best ever" or "a certain bestseller." No one had been honest with him. They all seemed to be afraid of being cut off. Not one of them had pointed out the wildly implausible story line in the first one, or how bad the dialog was in the second one. His third "award winner" had plot holes so big you could drive a giant blue semi through them.

That first rejection had crushed him. A form letter. He couldn't believe the publisher was turning it down after all the praise he had gotten from his friends. He blamed the editor who read his novel. It had to be some s.a.d.i.s.tic failed writer rejecting his brilliant work out of jealousy. Some poor hack who couldn't cut it as an author, so he retaliated against better writers. When his second novel was complete, he'd tried another publisher, determined not to allow that other group of would-be Pulitzers to get a crack at his genius. The second rejection stung worse than the first. His friends rallied around him, consoling him by taking him to Venice for a week. Well, they all piled into his family's jet and availed themselves of his family's villa. They were considerate enough to call ahead to the caretaker to ensure the wine cellar was unlocked, the bar was fully stocked with all the top-shelf whiskeys they could drink, and the kitchen staff was on site and prepared to cater to their every whim. They ordered enough of their favorite foods to last several weeks. Except they overlooked the fact that Ally was allergic to sh.e.l.lfish, couldn't stand eggs, and never drank hard liquor.

They nearly emptied the alcohol carts during the plane ride and kept urging him to buy the publishers so he could force them to see the error of their ways, and he could finally get published. Once they landed, they arranged for the bags to be taken directly to the villa and also suggested Ally accompany them. After all, it was was his villa. He really should be the one to show up with the luggage and make sure all the rooms were ready for them. his villa. He really should be the one to show up with the luggage and make sure all the rooms were ready for them.

Ally agreed, and the next time he saw his friends was on the tarmac, ready to board the plane to return home. The bills from that trip had been staggering, as every excursion, every night on the town, every shopping spree had been billed to the Theodisius household.

"But Ally, you were so depressed, we had to do something to cheer you up," they had said when he showed them the invoices. they had said when he showed them the invoices.

"How, exactly, was whisking me off to dump me in a room, running up my credit cards, and spending my money, halfway across the planet for a week supposed to cheer me up?"

"Ally, it's not our fault you didn't have fun. You should have tried harder. It's like that with you every time we go."

Or something else to that effect. It was always Ally's fault he never had fun at their parties-in his house, with his booze, on his dime. The one time he tried to step up, dared to cut them off, they berated and bullied him for being selfish. As always, he'd backed down and continued to fund their lifestyles.

His third rejection letter came with feedback. When he reviewed the publisher's comments, he couldn't believe that none of his friends had pointed out the problems with his story. How could they have missed such glaring plotting issues? He decided to review his other two works of art. Now that some time had pa.s.sed, he could read them with a more objective eye. What he found shocked him.

They were awful. Amateurish, overwrought, and just plain bad. That's when he put his current plan together. He finished the chapter and printed it out. Then he went to get ready. He was just taking one last look in the mirror when he heard his name called.

"Ally! You up here? Come on, we're going to be late." Footsteps echoed in the hallway as his friends, Derek and Robbie, pushed into his room. They wore similar b.u.t.ton-front shirts and flip-flops, with no pants. Derek had on a pair of plaid silk boxers, while Robbie flaunted a pair of red briefs. Both would certainly attract attention at the No Pants Day brunch they had insisted Ally go to with them.

"What the f.u.c.k are you wearing?" Robbie asked.

"A waistcoat. What's wrong with it?" Ally thought he cut a dashing figure in his French-cuffed shirt, silk tie, and pin-striped vest. As dashing as he could pull off, anyway.

"No, those. What the f.u.c.k are those?"

Ally looked down to where Derek was pointing. He had always felt his legs were his best feature-nicely muscled from constantly standing on his tiptoes around his taller friends. The dark blue knee-high nylon socks were sheer enough to make out the definition of his calves, while the sock garters drew the eye to them and down to his polished wing tips.

"Dude, you are not wearing those. Go change," Robbie ordered as he started looking through Ally's watches.

"Yes, I am. And put that down."

"I just need to borrow one. Mine stopped working for some reason."

"The Wyler-Zagato you took from here last week?"

"I thought it was a gift." Robbie started to get that indignant look again.

Ally sighed. It had been a gift to him from a business a.s.sociate trying to get Ally's financial backing for a new project he wanted to launch. He didn't know why he'd accepted it, let alone kept it, other than to remind himself of the hypocrisy some people were capable of. The outlandish price of the watch could have made a nice down payment for the project, but Ally supposed it was easier to risk someone else's money. The watch had been the last step in wooing Ally's wallet, after the pathetic attempts at dating him failed. "Just take the Tag and bring the other one back. I'll see if I can get it fixed." Ally suspected the problem was that Robbie hadn't thought to wind it.

Robbie beamed. "Thanks, pal. I got that piece of s.h.i.t in the car. You can keep it."

Ally looked up from winding his great-grandfather's military-issued pocket watch and shook his head with a sigh. When he considered that both were his to begin with, Ally thought it was awfully magnanimous of his friend to allow him to keep the pricy timepiece in exchange for another of his name-brand watches. Granted, the Wyler cost about twenty-five times the Tag, so maybe Ally was getting the better end of the bargain.

Ally wiped the antique crystal face with a polishing cloth, thinking of his great-grandfather and the stories he'd told him about using the navigational watch during WWII. He loved hearing how his great-grandfather used it to get his crew safely back to base. Ally never could grasp how to do more with it than tell time, no matter how many times his great-grandfather tried to explain it, but just looking at the face helped calm his nerves and gave him a sense of direction. He dropped it into the vest pocket, straightened the white gold chain running across his slightly rounded belly, and slipped his arms into the sleeves of his suit coat and shrugged it over his shoulders. He folded his sample chapter and tucked the pages into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Ready?" He smoothed the lines of his coat, squared his shoulders, and left the room with all the dignity a man wearing half a suit could muster.

Chapter Two.

"OH, NO NO, you don't. Get back here, Bennie." you don't. Get back here, Bennie."

"What?" n.o.body could pull off an innocent look the way Bennie could. Except for those who actually were innocent, and the prep.u.b.escent. That was why he was in so much demand as a model.

"You know what. Drop 'em, pal."

"But I can't. Not here." They were standing in the vestibule of the country club's dining room.

"Don't even try to use those eyes on me. You know I'm immune." It was true. Harley was the only person Bennie had ever met who didn't fall for his puppy-dog eyes. "Now drop 'em."

"Harley, I can't. I'm going commando."

Harley laughed at Bennie's predicament. "You knew it was No Pants Day. First Friday in May. How could you forget?"

"Lot on my mind lately. Look, I'll go back to the hotel and change, and I'll go pantsless for the rest of the day. Okay?"

"Nope." Harley smiled and shook his head as he stepped out of his cargo shorts. "You can't get in for breakfast with pants on. One of the club rules."

"Who makes up these rules? And why do I care?" He was trying to stay in the spirit of the day, but being forced to walk around half naked-exposing himself in the process-was not his idea of fun.

"You're naked on sets all the time. Why so nervous here?"

"Because it's mostly naked, not the full Monty. Besides, I'm getting paid to be gorgeous and naked on set, and everyone's a professional there. I'm narcissistic, not an exhibitionist."

"Look, we're just meeting some of my friends here, and we'll be out quick."

"You know they're not going to let me in and be around food with nothing on." Bennie had only waited tables for a month before getting his break, but it was long enough to know that, and he wasn't above using it to get out of this torture.

Harley frowned and looked around the restaurant. "You're probably right. Wait here." He took off before Bennie could say anything.

While he waited, Bennie leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, letting the events that drove him here wash over him. He'd left his parents' trailer as soon as he graduated high school. He'd literally grabbed the parchment, climbed in his car, and started driving across the country. He'd made it to Los Angeles and started pounding the pavement, looking for any work he could get. Everyone had always told him how gorgeous or how hot he was. It was time to put it to a test. If he couldn't somehow work that to his advantage over the summer, he would return home and go to college. He didn't have to wait long. With his light brown skin and wavy black hair, he immediately caught everyone's attention when he batted his baby-blue eyes at them. Within a few weeks, the exotic combination got him signed to a lucrative contract, and he'd never looked back. Until now.

His circle of true friends had gotten smaller as his career took off. He was surrounded by people, all of them claiming to be his friends, but very few really were. Most of them were just using him, wanting the exposure he drew to get their fifteen minutes of fame. Hooking up with him to get their head shots to agents, hanging off his arm just to be seen, most of them with something to promote. Wear my new line. Help open my club. Introduce me to the photographer. Wear my new line. Help open my club. Introduce me to the photographer. It seemed never-ending. It seemed never-ending.

Then he'd met Palmer, and finally he felt he had a partner. Someone to stand by his side. He wanted Bennie for Bennie, not for what Bennie could do for him. Quiet nights at home, just the two of them, doing nothing but being with each other. Secluded dinners out, away from the crowds and the chaos that usually clung to him. Then the photos had started turning up online. Intimate moments caught with them unaware. Bennie couldn't believe the access this lucky photographer had gotten, so he started cutting people out of his life one by one, trying to figure out who was feeding the press these photos.

When it was down to Palmer and Harley, he knew which one it must be. Harley had been his best friend since he'd arrived in LA. He was the first person Bennie made friends with after settling in, all the way back at that c.r.a.ppy wanna-be-upscale restaurant. That first night, when Bennie didn't have a clue what he was doing, Harley stepped up to train him, never judging him on his looks. When the first agent came calling, Harley helped Bennie understand the contract. And Harley helped keep him grounded when fame tried to pull him apart. He didn't believe Harley would ever betray him in any way.

His heart broke when he realized it had to be Palmer. The confrontation had been awful. Palmer yelled and screamed at him with such sense of ent.i.tlement, it made his stomach roll. He found out Palmer had planned it from the beginning. Get himself famous by d.i.c.king Bennie over with no thought to Bennie's feelings. He was just another replaceable pretty face, after all.

When he decided he had to get away, Harley was the one who cleared his schedule and rearranged his commitments. Getting out of town and away from their regular crowd sounded like a great idea, and tagging along to visit Harley's high school buddies might be just the thing he needed-a low-key mini-vacation with real people instead of the soul-sucking toadies who usually surrounded him.

He sighed and bounced his head against the wall to clear out the negative energy. A voice roused him from his thoughts. He looked over and found a pair of stunning green eyes, just above the cutest pair of dimples he'd ever seen.

"Excuse me," the stranger said. He and his party had come in through the outer door while he stood there lost in his thoughts. Bennie took in the well-made suit, down the well-formed legs, and back up to those incredible eyes. He was struck with an overwhelming urge to stick his tongue in one of the dimples that deepened as the man smiled wider.

"Dude? You mind?" Bennie noticed the man flinch when his friend stepped up next to him. Bennie bristled against the att.i.tude but stepped aside.

"Not at all," he said, looking at Dimples, hoping to get another smile from him.

"Thank you," Dimples mumbled and dropped his gaze as he followed his friends to a table.

Bennie watched them leave, with Dimples still staring at the floor. One of his friends stepped up to whisper something in his ear and slap him on the shoulder. Bennie could see his profile as he looked up and smiled at the p.r.i.c.k, but he could tell from where he stood that it wasn't real. Bennie wished he could see that infectious grin again.

"All right, man. Let's go." Harley returned from his mission, somewhat defeated as he bent over to pick up his shorts and put them back on.

"What?"

"You're right. They won't let you in with it all hanging out." He turned and waved at the party that had just been seated. "We'll catch up with them later."

Bennie noticed the man sitting next to Dimples waved back. "You know those guys?"

"A couple of them. I went to school with them."

Bennie looked at the other two men at the table, and he realized he recognized them. He didn't know them, but they had the exact same look as the group of sycophants he'd been removing from his life. The ones he'd left back in LA. He caught Dimples's eye and winked at him, delighted by the blush he watched race up the man's neck and cheeks before he quickly looked down to study his flatware. He turned to Harley, a plan forming in his mind.

"Give me a minute."

Chapter Three.

ALLY sat down between Derek and Robbie, but his attention kept returning to the man at the host station. He watched the man's friend show up and say something while he put on his shorts before turning and waving at their table. Robbie waved back to him. Ally could feel his face burning when the gorgeous man looked directly at him and smiled. He looked down to study the place setting and nervously moved the silverware around. When he spared a glance back up, the man was heading toward the kitchen area, leaving his friend standing there. sat down between Derek and Robbie, but his attention kept returning to the man at the host station. He watched the man's friend show up and say something while he put on his shorts before turning and waving at their table. Robbie waved back to him. Ally could feel his face burning when the gorgeous man looked directly at him and smiled. He looked down to study the place setting and nervously moved the silverware around. When he spared a glance back up, the man was heading toward the kitchen area, leaving his friend standing there.

"Do you know them?"

Robbie shook his head. "Just Harley. He went to school here before taking off." He tried to wave Harley over, but Harley just put up a hand and waited for his friend.

"What about the other one?" Ally hoped his voice didn't sound as desperate as he thought it did. He cleared his throat and took a sip of water.

"He looks familiar, but I don't know him." Derek looked over at Harley, who was pacing in the small foyer.

"Me, either," Robbie said before flagging down a waiter and ordering drinks and food for the table.

"Oh. Okay." Way to not sound desperate, Ally. Get your mind on why you're here. Way to not sound desperate, Ally. Get your mind on why you're here. "Before I forget, I've started a new story. I really want your opinions." He stood and pulled the pages from the inside pocket of his jacket before taking it off and draping it on the back of his chair. He handed out copies to both his friends and waited while they read them. The waiter brought the drinks and the first courses. Ally tried to catch him before he left, but as usual, he ignored Ally and rushed off to take care of other customers. He pushed the c.o.c.ktail away and picked up his water gla.s.s while his friends read his work. "Before I forget, I've started a new story. I really want your opinions." He stood and pulled the pages from the inside pocket of his jacket before taking it off and draping it on the back of his chair. He handed out copies to both his friends and waited while they read them. The waiter brought the drinks and the first courses. Ally tried to catch him before he left, but as usual, he ignored Ally and rushed off to take care of other customers. He pushed the c.o.c.ktail away and picked up his water gla.s.s while his friends read his work.

When they finished, he put the water down and turned to Derek. "Well, what do you think?"

His friend's smile was wide. "I think it's your best yet. It's fantastic. I can't wait to see how this works out. I'm hooked."

"Really? You think so?"

"I know so," Robbie kicked in. "This one will get published. No doubt about it."

"What do you like best about it?" Ally couldn't help but ask. He had to know just how far they would go to give him what they thought he wanted to hear.

"Everything, man. It really moved me."

Ally nodded and leaned back in his chair. He'd suspected they had just been humoring him, but now he was sure of it. Now he had to decide what he wanted to do about it. He looked between his two friends. Derek motioned toward the appetizer, a serving of bacon-wrapped shrimp. Ally sighed and nodded, pushing the plate toward him, while Robbie leaned over to take his c.o.c.ktail. "You gonna drink this?"

"No, go right ahead." Ally closed his eyes and shook his head. He was already running plans through his head, thinking of all the things he needed to do when he heard some movement behind him. He turned and saw Robbie's friend Harley walk up and put a hand on Derek's shoulder. The gorgeous man from the lobby stood next to Ally's chair. He looked past a skintight blue shirt to matching blue eyes. Ally let his gaze wander back down the man's body, but he stopped at the short ap.r.o.n right in front of his face. In his peripheral vision, he noticed the man's legs were exposed. He let out the breath he had been holding, inadvertently exhaling directly into the stranger's crotch. Ally really tried to look back at his face, but the ap.r.o.n shifted slightly, even though the rest of his body remained still. When he realized that meant there wasn't anything but bare skin under the ap.r.o.n, Ally blushed and studied his silverware again. "Excuse me."

"No problem, man." He smiled at Ally and held his hand out. "I'm Bennie." Ally took it, but he couldn't remember his own name. Not with his eyes glued to the ap.r.o.n that seemed to be moving toward him.

Derek stood up and put one hand on Ally's shoulder and held the other out. "I'm Derek, that's Robbie, and this is Aloysius."

"I'm sorry. Did you say Aloe Wishes?" Bennie asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Close enough, dude." Derek shook Bennie's hand, then Harley's. "Hey, man, long time no see."

Robbie stood and gave Harley a one-armed hug. "Cop a squat."

"Thanks. It's good to see you guys. It's been what, four, five years?"