Taste. Part 23

Lil nodded.

"How many people work for you?"

"I have several draftsmen, two a.s.sistants, a couple of apprentice architects, and then the designers. About fifteen people, all told."

Grier whistled. "Wow."

"We'll go down there tomorrow. I want you to meet everyone and get a feel for the business. You would love my designers."

"Are they gay?"

"You sound like your father."

Grier opened his mouth to protest but shut it again. "You're right. That was a dumb question."

"I'm an equal opportunity employer, love, but the majority of my people are, in fact, gay."

"A coincidence?"

"I hire them based on their talent and nothing else, but this is San Francisco."

"Isn't it simpler, though, working with people who share your orientation?"

"We share a love for beauty. The rest is immaterial. Besides, I don't fraternize with my staff. It's bad business."

"Okay."

"My chief designer is straight and married with two kids."

"All right... don't belabor the point."

"My point is that it doesn't matter who's in your bed. What matters is what you bring to the table."

"Not everyone thinks like you."

"So surround yourself with like-minded individuals."

"Don't start."

"Are you hungry?" Lil asked, changing the subject altogether.

"I could eat."

"Do you like j.a.panese food?"

"Sure."

"j.a.pantown isn't far from here. I know a great sus.h.i.+ bar."

"I need a shower first," Grier said.

"Shall we?" Lil queried.

"It is big enough for two?"

Lil took Grier by the hand. "See for yourself."

Chapter 23.

THE bathroom, and the shower stall in particular, was like everything else in Lil's apartmentflawlessly planned and perfect for sharing. There was no fear of elbows banging on tiled walls as they navigated the generous gla.s.s enclosure. The aroma of the Neutrogena body wash permeated the air as the room quickly steamed up from the heat of the water that cascaded out of the s.h.i.+ny chrome rain-shower fixture. Lil showed him how the flick of a switch could turn the calming rain function into a self-pressurized spray that would provide a vigorous ma.s.sage if so desired. bathroom, and the shower stall in particular, was like everything else in Lil's apartmentflawlessly planned and perfect for sharing. There was no fear of elbows banging on tiled walls as they navigated the generous gla.s.s enclosure. The aroma of the Neutrogena body wash permeated the air as the room quickly steamed up from the heat of the water that cascaded out of the s.h.i.+ny chrome rain-shower fixture. Lil showed him how the flick of a switch could turn the calming rain function into a self-pressurized spray that would provide a vigorous ma.s.sage if so desired.

They took their time, leisurely exploring their bodies once again as they soaped each other with tender care. Not surprisingly, the entire process turned into another round of lovemaking, which was completed on the plush Egyptian cotton towels Lil spread out on the marble floor, outside the stall, and away from the pummeling spray.

"Your light fixtures are very unusual," Grier said after catching his breath, following another earth-shattering o.r.g.a.s.m.

"This is the strangest pillow talk ever," Lil commented.

"I was going to ask you earlier, but I got distracted." Grier turned on his side to kiss Lil and commented, "You're burning up."

"I get this way whenever you're around," Lil joked.

"Shall I crack open a window?"

"No, we'll catch a cold. The fog's already starting to roll in."

"Cold? You don't know cold until you've experienced winter in Chitown."

"You're right. It's not high on my Bucket List, believe me."

"That movie made me cry," Grier admitted.

"Me too," Lil exclaimed. "Yet another thing we have in common."

"Tell me about your lighting."

"The LEDs are remote-controlled, and each room has a sensor that will turn the lights off and on as they detect movement. It's convenient, especially when your arms are full of groceries, or in this case a beautiful man. Another benefit is that I never have to change a light bulb."

Grier stood and pulled Lil up. "Give me the grand tour. I want to know everything about your apartment."

Lil wrapped a towel around his waist and followed Grier into the bedroom. The brunet hadn't bothered with a towel, and Lil enjoyed the view of his taut and muscular backside. "What do you want to know?"

"Your bedI've never laid on anything as comfortable."

Lil grinned. "You have a very discerning body. It's a Hypnos."

"Never heard of it."

"It's a world-renowned British company that makes the finest mattresses in the world, but you won't find them on display at Sears."

"This probably costs more than my Harley."

Lil laughed. "It does."

"s.h.i.+t... what about the frame?"

"Charles P. Rogers."

"Who?"

"He manufactures custom bed frames. The tufted leather can be quite user-friendly." Lil smiled, thinking of all the times he'd b.u.t.ted his head against the padded leather rather than suffering a minor concussion if he'd had a wooden headboard.

Grier ran his hands over the black leather, admiring the workmans.h.i.+p. "Very nice," he murmured.

"These names will be commonplace when you get into interior design."

Grier snorted. "Pigs would have to fly."

Lil took him in his arms. "You've got to want it bad enough."

"I can't just walk away from my responsibilities."

"Your ability to provide a good future for Luca will increase with a college degree, and why not spend the rest of your life doing something you love?"

"My father would have a cow."

"Your father seems like a reasonable man. I'm sure he could be persuaded."

Grier maneuvered Lil gently out to the living room to continue his tour. "Your furniture looks imported."

"And you," Lil said as he kissed Grier's parted lips, "have an excellent eye. The leather pieces are from Milan. The coffee and side tables are Philippe Starck designs bought from Ca.s.sina USA. The rug is Persian."

"What about the dining room table?" It was a huge slab of round gla.s.s resting on a crisscrossed frame of iodized steel.

"That's a Mario Bellini design, also from Ca.s.sina."

"Don't you like American designers?"

"I love them all, but the design has to fit the s.p.a.ce and the client's taste. Right now I'm into Italian. Next year it may be Oriental or Early Americana. I'm constantly changing. I get bored after looking at the same thing day in and day out."

"Does that include your men?"

"In the past it has."

"What about me?" Grier asked, moving into Lil's embrace. "Will you get bored with me in a few weeks or months?"

Lil met Grier's questioning gaze with one of his own. "Will you?"

"It's pointless, isn't it?" Grier sighed and pushed Lil away. "I'll be gone in a week, and we may never see each other again."

"Hey." Lil reached out and caught Grier's hand. He tugged gently, drawing the reluctant man back into his arms. Grier was tense and poised for flight. "It doesn't have to end this week."

"How do you figure?"

"We have time to go over our options. Why don't we put this conversation on hold until you've had a chance to explore my city and all it has to offer?"

"I could never leave Luca."

"Who said you'd have to?"

Grier c.o.c.ked his head. "What are you saying?"

"Let's go and eat," Lil said, blithely changing the subject. He had no desire to get into a heated discussion on their first night in town. Furthermore, he needed more time to work on Grier and show him the benefits of living in San Francisco. He had every intention of making him an offer by the end of the week but didn't want to spoil it by acting prematurely. "Put some clothes on, love, or we'll end up in bed again."

Grier smiled. "Not such a bad place."

"Don't worry. We'll be back for a more extended tour after dinner."

When they were both dressed, Lil grabbed his keys, set the alarm, and hustled Grier out the door into the elevator that took them down to the bas.e.m.e.nt garage. Grier whistled appreciatively when he saw the deep red Mercedes Benz E550 Cabriolet soft top parked in a slot marked with Lil's last name.

"Holy s.h.i.+t!"

"You like? I got it about three months ago."

"It's fantastic. Do you ever put the top down?"

"All the time, love."

"We're not that different, are we? You like speed as much as I do."

"I prefer to be coc.o.o.ned in the loving arms of German engineering than free floating on high hope."

"You can get killed just as quickly in a sports car."

"I disagree, but I'm not going to debate the merits of one against the other. You're free to ride your Harley to the ends of the earth. Just don't expect me to wrap my skinny arms around your waist and hang on for dear life."

"I'll beat you down with loving persistence."

"You do that, Grier. I'll enjoy every minute of it."

Lil drove expertly, navigating the car around streetcars, buses, and pedestrians as they headed toward j.a.pantown, which wasn't far away. Maki restaurant was on Post Street, and a car was pulling away from the curb just as they arrived. Lil slid the Mercedes into the vacated spot easily.

"That was a lucky break," Grier said. "Parking in Chicago is usually a nightmare."