Chapter 28

Melly picked Harry up at LAX. He was exhausted. “In and Out?” she asked.

“Sure,” he agreed. “How are things at home?”

“Mistress is feeling a bit bruised,” Melly smirked.

“Good then.” Harry chuckled.

“The ice finally broke,” Melly sighed. “Good now.”

“And the garage?”

“A couple months before we open, giving time for the ladies to give plenty of notice. You remember Queen Genna?”

“At the lesbian bar.”

“Call it what it is, a dyke bar,” Melly chuckled. “She’s a major player in the community and posts a hugely popular blog with an attitude as you can imagine. Her girlfriend...”

“The willowy blonde,” Harry remembered.

“Heather. Just as tough. She’s a press agent and knows her away around media and how to sell a product. She came up with name Artemisia Garage, Artemisia some ancient warrior queen, obscure enough not to become too obvious.”

“So the staff will be exclusive?” Harry asked.

“Illegal probably if it were. The core group definitely, but we’d be willing to hire on whoever while encouraging other mechanics out there who share the problems lesbians face, or any woman for that matter. I’d say any heterosexual man we might hire would be on fragile ground as far as sexual harassment if he can get past the discomfort of a staff who both hates and distrusts him because of his gender. If he can make it through that gauntlet, and to be honest why would he, I can’t imagine it would be a comfortable work environment, then I guess more power to him.”

“I got a taste of that discomfort,” Harry chuckled. “So you’re still working for Sissy?”

“As much as that entails: dropping off and picking up the kids and not a lot else. There’s definitely a lot of time to put the garage together. So how are you? You look tired.”

“It’s been an exhausting couple of days essentially researching two stories. I have to prove to the publisher of Whatever You Want that that book wasn’t some fluke. It would benefit both my contract and the timeline for release if they see that I have other novels in me.”

“They want you to write two more novels?” she asked.

“Not in the two weeks I have,” Harry chuckled. “They want an outline and some chapters of a second novel, and to show another completed work, a finished short story. Both they and I have the disadvantage of not having a history of writing with pretty much any published novelist would have. I just came from talking to my friend Joseph and his daughter about the assault that put him in prison. A painful subject, especially since I wanted to visit where it happened and where Joseph had lived before, but Joseph is a stoic man, though I could tell it affected him. In the end though, when he and his daughter said goodbye to me, both said there had been some catharsis.”

“So a true story then,” Melly noticed.

“Similar to how Whatever You Want is a true story. Which makes me question whether my idea for this second novel is the right one since its pure fiction. With the novel and short story based on fact, is that what they want to see or even what I want to write?”

“You like to research what you write.”

“I like immersing myself in it.”

“Why not write about yourself? There’s no more immersion than that.”

“Stillwater is already that,” Harry pointed out.

“It’s a film, Harry, and your character is named Rancid. Is he you?”

“Yes and no, maybe as much as the Nathaniel character in the novel and script is like the actual Nathaniel. But I doubt the publisher would be interested in a novelization of a movie.”

“If it was about the real Rancid, the person the character was based on?”

“An autobiography of an unknown actor; the true story behind a low budget film.”

“With a unique life, and definitely a unique character, whose talents got held back for years and then exploded once released, including your Don Juan nature.”

“I guess there’s an arc. Autobiography as novel.”

“Maybe a dirty novel at that,” Melly chuckled.

“The new Henry Miller,” Harry contemplated.

“Who?”

“A controversial writer whose books were banned because of their explicitness. He helped break things open, but even though banning and trials against indecency are mostly gone, there’s a lot of sealing up of that break. Ironically it’s as much about the permissiveness, of allowing pornography to be legal, that demarks what is and isn’t legitimate anymore. Dirty stories are allowed but are categorized and marginalized as dirty stories. Even nudity and explicitness in film has been polarized such that women wear bras when fucking in acceptable movies or television and sex is a montage that doesn’t even scratch soft core. I think I’ve seen far more male frontal nudity than female.”

“Because actresses rightfully feel more exploited.”

“Of course, but it still feels somewhat like a backlash.”

“What about the Fifty Shades thing?”

“Never read them, but I imagine they’re closer to Dan Brown than the Marquis de Sade.”

“Sadism right?”

“From the eighteenth century, which shows you the flux of acceptance historically. Although it also says something about pornography existing for ages, probably from the beginning of storytelling, often kept hidden like a boy hiding his Playboy under his bed. So maybe it’s just more of the same, just a little less hidden. Sex sells and always has. But, aside from Fifty Shades which probably could never be mistaken for great literature, you won’t find much of it on any bestseller lists.”

“Does it have to be great literature?”

“As close as possible with this particular publisher, or maybe more correctly, because I imagine they sell enough pulp to make their money, it’s expected of me.”

“It does solve the immersion problem and I think your life would make interesting reading.”

“I guess I’ll be writing a third sample,” Harry sighed.

“Sorry,” Melly laughed.

He called Trina letting her know he was back in town. They had traded emails early in his New York trip as did he and Orlando. It followed him signing virtually a generous contract for his rewriting services and he would make sure the generosity would be deposited in his account instead of through his manager/agent Linda. She’d gotten him the audition, but it was his idea to rewrite the crap script.

Orlando had sent him a revised scene, the revisions highlighted in red, and he added to them in dark green, but ultimately they agreed to wait to continue working on it until Harry got back, as much because of the clumsiness of distance as it was Harry wanting this to be like a honeymoon for Peg.

Trina got back to him after talking to Orlando and they decided to meet for dinner at Trina’s place on Monday, the next day.

He tried calling Jenny but it went to voicemail. He let her know he was in town, and since she’d be at the read through Monday for the series in which he plays the villain, he didn’t worry if she called back. It was probably for the best considering how tired he was, which proved obvious when he essentially passed out as soon as his head hit his pillow.

Whether the garage door opening had awoken him, when he looked out the window he saw Melly driving the Bentley into the garage. His decision to wait for her to settle in before disturbing her was taken away when she opened the door. “You are awake,” she smiled, lifting a sack. “I bought breakfast.”

“I’ll put something on,” he told her, dressed in his usual boxers and t shirt.

“Maybe your suit? I bet you missed swimming.”

“Sure,” he smiled.

She waited. He shrugged and removed his shirt. “You’re sure you’re not interested?” he asked, his hands at the top of his boxers.

“I’m sure,” she chuckled and darted out.

The tease continued when she stood naked with her bathing suit in hand. He shook his head, watching her put the sexy one piece on and then the athletic shorts and the tank top over it.

Coffee and orange juice accompanied the breakfast burritos she’d bought, and their chatting about his adventures in New York continued after they finished, but the water called and they headed down to swim.

After several laps, they showered together under the cold water shower head, close in and teasing. Eventually he pulled her against him and hugged her. “The cold water helps,” he spoke into her ear. “But only so far.”

“Does this bother you?” she asked.

“It’s part of our friendship.”

Her head pulled back, showing him her smile which he kissed briefly. She giggled and pressed her firm abdomen against his burgeoning erection before pulling away and darting to her towel, tossing him his soon after.

She donned her covering and he his t-shirt and they headed upstairs, separating so Harry could shower, dress and read through the script he’d be reading aloud in about three hours.

A couple hours in, Melly entered his room. “Ready?” she asked.

“Yep,” he answered, shoving the script in the bag that contained his laptop and drawing pad.

During the drive, he muttered, “Maybe I should buy a car since I’m going to be here for a while.”

“Getting tired of my services?” she smirked.

“Never,” he chuckled. “But you have other things to worry about.”

“Not really. I pop by the garage to check on things, and my partners and I Zoom for conference calls. After I drop you off, I’m heading to Bea’s. She volunteered to help me with the business side, or actually she’s become a partner dealing with the books and taxes and such, a dubious CPA advising her.”

“Part of the underground she and her husband deal with.”

“Yep. But she and Horst created a network system, including the register and inventory and requisition inputs and stations at the garage for the mechanics to punch in and out and record their work for billing the customer, even checking on parts they’ll need and ordering them, everything involved with monetary transactions. She and Horst, mostly Horst, are teaching me how the devices and the software work, hopefully well enough for me to teach my partners and our employees. Any troubleshooting, either she or Horst will come visit if necessary, an advantage to her partnering, because she never does that. They’ll be there for the install because everything is new and proprietary.”

“Sounds expensive.”

“And a main reason we made her partner. All expenses will be her paying in, and of course recorded for her to get tax write-offs.”

“How many partners?”

“There’s five of us, and it’s an LLC. Missy put some money into it, mostly getting the place with a discount from her ex, but also helped secure the loan. She didn’t want her name on it because...”

“It’s a lesbian organization.”

“Yep, but that shady CPA made sure that there’d be a shell game to keep her name out. Missy will have our back in case things go south, but I really think, with the quality of my partners and our strategy of sales, we’ll do fine.”

“Their quality as mechanics?”

“Fifty years of experience, the three combined. I’m the rookie, and will mostly be the face of it, who customers see when they come in, but I do have a base from a technical school, and I plan to get my hands greasy to learn from the masters.”

They’d arrived at the studio where the reading would take place. It wasn’t clear when the reading would be finished, but Harry assured Melly he’d get a ride or if worse came to worse, he’d get an Uber. “Just call me if Jenny’s being a bitch,” Melly insisted. “If I’m busy, you can just wait until I’m not.”

“I’ll let you know one way or the other,” Harry agreed.

Harry was one of the first to arrive, purposely, and after making use of the craft services, and after he was measured for his costumes, he and the director sat and discussed his part. His minions arrived, Jenny first, while the director and he chatted. The director had the ladies join him and Harry. Jenny was strangely distant and sat a couple chairs away.

As soon as the discussions ended, everyone having arrived, the table reading began. Again Jenny sat separately.

The reading went well, and Harry thought the interactions between him and the characters, even Jenny, felt right. Call sheets were provided, and Harry was first up.

He caught up with her when she started heading out.

“What’s going on?” he asked. He could see her tear up and attempt to leave again. “Please? Can we at least talk?”

She nodded and headed out, Harry following. They stopped at her car and then she embraced him. He waited for her to explain. “Get in,” she decided, opening the doors.

Once settled in, she murmured, “I should have asked if you had a ride.”

“I don’t. I kind of hoped you would be.”

That brought on her first smile not done in character. “Want to work on our scenes?”

He looked at the car clock. “I have dinner at seven at Trina’s,” he told her. “Otherwise I’m free. I can call her to ask if you could join us.”

“I don’t know if you’d want to.”

“I’m certain I will.”

She nodded and Harry left a message with Trina before letting Missy know he had a ride.

“My place?” Jenny asked shyly.

“Sounds good,” Harry grinned.

Jenny had on a public radio news station. “You can put on something else,” she offered.

“This is fine,” he told her.

They listened to All Things Considered in silence.

Jenny had a nice if small apartment in a modern apartment building. A lower floor, so not much of a view. It was a bit messy which embarrassed her. “Give me a sec,” she said and removed clothes off the couch and straightened up magazines on the coffee table, making room for them to sit together. She took the clothes into her bedroom and spent a couple minutes there obviously neatening things.