"253 Creekside Canyon" 14
Lunch at Belinda's Bistro, West Hollywood.
By Gaedhal
Los Angeles, December 2005
"I'm meeting Mr. Rosenblum for lunch," Brian told the
hostess, a tall brunette woman in a pink Chloe dress, at
the front desk at Belinda's.
She smiled slightly and nodded. "Of course, sir," she said,
not even glancing at her reservation book. "This way."
The hostess led Brian to a quiet corner table. And sitting
there, drinking a Cosmo, was a short blonde female.
"There must be some mistake," said Brian as the hostess
set a menu down at the seat opposite.
"There's no mistake," the blonde chirped. "Take a load
off, Brian. Ronnie is late -- as usual. He can never resist
taking one more phone call even when he's due at lunch all
the way across town."
Brian hesitated. Who the fuck is this? he thought. And
where's Ron?
"I bet you're wondering who the freak I am?" The blonde
wrinkled her nose at Brian.
Brian frowned back. But then it dawned on him. "I've
seen you in one of Ron's films. You were in 'The Winding
Stair.' You played the psychic!"
"That's it!" she cried in delight. "I thought no one would
ever recognize me in that black wig!" She presented her
hand to Brian like a trophy. "Diane Rhys, actress,
spokesmodel, and semi-professional fag hag. And Ron's
very good buddy and confidante."
Brian shook the woman's hand tentatively. It was tiny.
But then Diane was tiny, almost like a live Barbie doll.
"I wasn't expecting anyone except Ron at lunch." Brian
slipped into the seat across from Diane and then glanced
around. "Is anyone else going to show up that I should
know about?"
"Like who?" Diane asked. She waved the waiter over.
"Another Cosmo for me, honey, and... what will you have,
Brian?"
"An Absolut," Brian said, eyeing the sandy-haired waiter.
He wasn't bad. Not bad at all. "On the rocks."
"Very good, sir," the waiter replied, smirking at Brian.
"I'll bring it right away."
"So," said Diane, staring directly into Brian's face. "Who
are you trying to avoid? Not Ronnie?"
"No, of course not!" Brian insisted. "It's... someone else.
That friend of Ron's -- Dorian. Everywhere we go, he's
there! Now I'm afraid he's going to show up here, too. I
know Dorian is Ron's old boyfriend and they're still close,
but it's like the guy is stalking us."
"Dorian Folco? A stalker?" Diane guffawed. "I doubt that,
honey!"
"Well, we went to some big Christmas party on Saturday
night," said Brian. "And he was there. He made a few
faces at me, mumbled something, and then took off like
I had bad breath."
"Ah, Charles and Donnie's Annual Holiday Bash," Diane
nodded. "I've never been invited. No females allowed. Of
course Dorian was there, honey! All the openly gay men
who are anybody in this town -- and all the closet queens,
too -- go to Charles and Donnie's parties. It's practically
a requirement."
"Maybe," Brian sniffed. "But then we went to brunch the
next day -- and the guy was there, too. He sat across the
room and didn't come to the table, but I knew he was there.
And Ron knew he was there, but didn't say anything. Then
later he was at Jimmy Hardy's house where Ron and I went
to watch some people play tennis. The fucking guy didn't say
two words to anyone all afternoon. He just sat and glared at
me. Ron told me to ignore it, but it makes me fucking
uncomfortable."
"Poor old Dorian!" Diane exclaimed. "He's still carrying
a torch, so you can't blame him for trying to get Ron's
attention." The waiter brought over the drinks and asked
if they wanted to order. "We better wait for Ron to show
up. Especially since he's paying for this lunch!"
Brian took a sip of his Absolute as he watched the waiter
walk away. The boy turned and winked at Brian before he
disappeared into the bar. "Then some jerk I've never seen
before in my fucking life stops me on the street just before
I came in here and starts telling me how Ron and Dorian
were the world's perfect fucking couple! I still don't know
who the hell the guy was!"
"What did he look like?" asked Diane with growing interest.
Apparently Ron's new crush was making quite an impression
on all the boys.
"Short, bald, and annoying. He said something about
dressing Susan fucking Lucci," Brian grumbled. "I didn't
know what the fuck he was talking about!"
"Sounds like Willi Vronsky," Diane suggested. Yes, Willi
was just the kind who'd stop Ron's new friend and interrogate
him. "He's a costume designer. He was probably at the party
Saturday night. He's worked with both Ron and Dorian."
"And that gives him the right to button-hole me on the
street? Jesus!" Brian huffed. "People have fucking nerve
out here!"
"Listen, honey," Diane confided. "Los Angeles is a big city,
but Hollywood is like a small town. Everyone working in
film and television knows everyone else, but especially
the gay men. They don't call it the Velvet Mafia for nothing!
They know everybody's business. Ron is a big player in
this town. He's an A List director and that makes everything
he does news. Including you."
"But I'm only visiting for a few days, so why do people
feel they have to go out of their way to remind me about
Ron's old boyfriend?" said Brian, fidgeting with his glass.
"It's not like we're in a fucking relationship!"
"No?" Diane questioned. "You sure about that?"
"Sure about what?" said Ron, coming up to the table.
"Sure that you're always late!" cried Diane. "Again!"
"Sorry about that, my dear." Ron bent over and kissed
Diane on the cheek. "But I see you've been entertaining
Brian in my absence."
"It's been a pleasure," purred Diane. "He's a very, very
sweet boy."
"Sweet?" Ron questioned. "That's a new one." He sat down
and gazed at Brian. "I should have called to let you know
I'd be late, but I knew Diane would take good care of you."
Ron hesitated for a moment and then leaned over and kissed
Brian on the mouth. "I had to take a call from New York
and we talked longer than I expected."
"I told you he can't tear himself away from a phone call!"
Diane exclaimed. She was watching the two of them with
fascination. She'd never seen Ron quite so open with his
affections in a public place. Or so obviously enthralled
with any guy before. Brian must be something else --
besides being tall, handsome, and dressed like a gay wet
dream. "All work and no play makes Ronnie a very dull
boy!"
"I know," said Ron, never looking away from Brian. "I'm
trying to remedy that situation. What were you two talking
about before I so rudely interrupted?"
"Nothing," Brian stated. "Nothing important. No one
important."
"Good," said Ron, opening his menu. The young waiter, who
had followed Ron to the table, lifted his pencil in expectation.
"I'm starving. I'll have the Thai Salad. And I think you'd like
that, too, Brian."
"That sounds great," said Brian, smiling for the first time.
"But I don't usually eat a very big lunch, so not too much."
He sat back and took another sip of his Absolute. He looked
at the waiter again and remembered that he didn't care much
for redheads.
"Okay," Ron instructed the waiter. "We'll split one order.
Then we can share a dessert -- if you don't mind, Brian?"
"Sure," said Brian. He noticed Ron's hands as he held the
menu. They looked strong, but also gentle. He had a sudden
urge to touch them. "We can share. I don't mind. I don't
mind sharing at all."
By Gaedhal
Los Angeles, December 2005
"I'm meeting Mr. Rosenblum for lunch," Brian told the
hostess, a tall brunette woman in a pink Chloe dress, at
the front desk at Belinda's.
She smiled slightly and nodded. "Of course, sir," she said,
not even glancing at her reservation book. "This way."
The hostess led Brian to a quiet corner table. And sitting
there, drinking a Cosmo, was a short blonde female.
"There must be some mistake," said Brian as the hostess
set a menu down at the seat opposite.
"There's no mistake," the blonde chirped. "Take a load
off, Brian. Ronnie is late -- as usual. He can never resist
taking one more phone call even when he's due at lunch all
the way across town."
Brian hesitated. Who the fuck is this? he thought. And
where's Ron?
"I bet you're wondering who the freak I am?" The blonde
wrinkled her nose at Brian.
Brian frowned back. But then it dawned on him. "I've
seen you in one of Ron's films. You were in 'The Winding
Stair.' You played the psychic!"
"That's it!" she cried in delight. "I thought no one would
ever recognize me in that black wig!" She presented her
hand to Brian like a trophy. "Diane Rhys, actress,
spokesmodel, and semi-professional fag hag. And Ron's
very good buddy and confidante."
Brian shook the woman's hand tentatively. It was tiny.
But then Diane was tiny, almost like a live Barbie doll.
"I wasn't expecting anyone except Ron at lunch." Brian
slipped into the seat across from Diane and then glanced
around. "Is anyone else going to show up that I should
know about?"
"Like who?" Diane asked. She waved the waiter over.
"Another Cosmo for me, honey, and... what will you have,
Brian?"
"An Absolut," Brian said, eyeing the sandy-haired waiter.
He wasn't bad. Not bad at all. "On the rocks."
"Very good, sir," the waiter replied, smirking at Brian.
"I'll bring it right away."
"So," said Diane, staring directly into Brian's face. "Who
are you trying to avoid? Not Ronnie?"
"No, of course not!" Brian insisted. "It's... someone else.
That friend of Ron's -- Dorian. Everywhere we go, he's
there! Now I'm afraid he's going to show up here, too. I
know Dorian is Ron's old boyfriend and they're still close,
but it's like the guy is stalking us."
"Dorian Folco? A stalker?" Diane guffawed. "I doubt that,
honey!"
"Well, we went to some big Christmas party on Saturday
night," said Brian. "And he was there. He made a few
faces at me, mumbled something, and then took off like
I had bad breath."
"Ah, Charles and Donnie's Annual Holiday Bash," Diane
nodded. "I've never been invited. No females allowed. Of
course Dorian was there, honey! All the openly gay men
who are anybody in this town -- and all the closet queens,
too -- go to Charles and Donnie's parties. It's practically
a requirement."
"Maybe," Brian sniffed. "But then we went to brunch the
next day -- and the guy was there, too. He sat across the
room and didn't come to the table, but I knew he was there.
And Ron knew he was there, but didn't say anything. Then
later he was at Jimmy Hardy's house where Ron and I went
to watch some people play tennis. The fucking guy didn't say
two words to anyone all afternoon. He just sat and glared at
me. Ron told me to ignore it, but it makes me fucking
uncomfortable."
"Poor old Dorian!" Diane exclaimed. "He's still carrying
a torch, so you can't blame him for trying to get Ron's
attention." The waiter brought over the drinks and asked
if they wanted to order. "We better wait for Ron to show
up. Especially since he's paying for this lunch!"
Brian took a sip of his Absolute as he watched the waiter
walk away. The boy turned and winked at Brian before he
disappeared into the bar. "Then some jerk I've never seen
before in my fucking life stops me on the street just before
I came in here and starts telling me how Ron and Dorian
were the world's perfect fucking couple! I still don't know
who the hell the guy was!"
"What did he look like?" asked Diane with growing interest.
Apparently Ron's new crush was making quite an impression
on all the boys.
"Short, bald, and annoying. He said something about
dressing Susan fucking Lucci," Brian grumbled. "I didn't
know what the fuck he was talking about!"
"Sounds like Willi Vronsky," Diane suggested. Yes, Willi
was just the kind who'd stop Ron's new friend and interrogate
him. "He's a costume designer. He was probably at the party
Saturday night. He's worked with both Ron and Dorian."
"And that gives him the right to button-hole me on the
street? Jesus!" Brian huffed. "People have fucking nerve
out here!"
"Listen, honey," Diane confided. "Los Angeles is a big city,
but Hollywood is like a small town. Everyone working in
film and television knows everyone else, but especially
the gay men. They don't call it the Velvet Mafia for nothing!
They know everybody's business. Ron is a big player in
this town. He's an A List director and that makes everything
he does news. Including you."
"But I'm only visiting for a few days, so why do people
feel they have to go out of their way to remind me about
Ron's old boyfriend?" said Brian, fidgeting with his glass.
"It's not like we're in a fucking relationship!"
"No?" Diane questioned. "You sure about that?"
"Sure about what?" said Ron, coming up to the table.
"Sure that you're always late!" cried Diane. "Again!"
"Sorry about that, my dear." Ron bent over and kissed
Diane on the cheek. "But I see you've been entertaining
Brian in my absence."
"It's been a pleasure," purred Diane. "He's a very, very
sweet boy."
"Sweet?" Ron questioned. "That's a new one." He sat down
and gazed at Brian. "I should have called to let you know
I'd be late, but I knew Diane would take good care of you."
Ron hesitated for a moment and then leaned over and kissed
Brian on the mouth. "I had to take a call from New York
and we talked longer than I expected."
"I told you he can't tear himself away from a phone call!"
Diane exclaimed. She was watching the two of them with
fascination. She'd never seen Ron quite so open with his
affections in a public place. Or so obviously enthralled
with any guy before. Brian must be something else --
besides being tall, handsome, and dressed like a gay wet
dream. "All work and no play makes Ronnie a very dull
boy!"
"I know," said Ron, never looking away from Brian. "I'm
trying to remedy that situation. What were you two talking
about before I so rudely interrupted?"
"Nothing," Brian stated. "Nothing important. No one
important."
"Good," said Ron, opening his menu. The young waiter, who
had followed Ron to the table, lifted his pencil in expectation.
"I'm starving. I'll have the Thai Salad. And I think you'd like
that, too, Brian."
"That sounds great," said Brian, smiling for the first time.
"But I don't usually eat a very big lunch, so not too much."
He sat back and took another sip of his Absolute. He looked
at the waiter again and remembered that he didn't care much
for redheads.
"Okay," Ron instructed the waiter. "We'll split one order.
Then we can share a dessert -- if you don't mind, Brian?"
"Sure," said Brian. He noticed Ron's hands as he held the
menu. They looked strong, but also gentle. He had a sudden
urge to touch them. "We can share. I don't mind. I don't
mind sharing at all."