SPLASH IN THE POOL

 

Jack Scribe

 

 

Part 22 – Hooray for Hollywood

 

The birthday dinner and physical endearment afterwards were perfect. Dave and Mike took turns expressing a growing love to each other. Dave left around midnight so that he could be at the pool early Sunday morning. His butt was tender to the bumps on the road driving back. Dave was relieved that Mike had been thinking of contingency plans for later in the year

 

DAVE

 

Mike outdid himself for the Monday 4th of July celebration. Wow what a crowd! Jim was assigned for the day to the Club. It was fun working with him.  Once getting the lustful curiosity out of the way with the jack-off session in the barracks shower, a firm friendship developed. We settled into a Monday and Wednesday evening workout and swim schedule at the base gym and aqua facilities.

 

I didn’t see Brent all weekend. He mentioned something about business in St. Louis. Nothing else was ever said. ‘Business’ was the buzzword we both understood. He would be back sometime early evening Monday.

 

 Mike arrived mid-morning in a loud aloha shirt and white shorts. We casually waived. He purposely walked over to Jim first at the other end of the pool. He knew where I’d be. In a few minutes he joined me in the locker room. “Officially, Happy Birthday,” he said as we shook hands. With no one there, we lightly kissed each other. It didn’t pay to push the envelope today.

 

“Thanks, Mike. I guess I can throw out my fake I.D. I’ve gotten good mileage from it.” I walked over to the wash sink and turned on the cold water. I needed a splash on my face as a diversion from my man. “Beth and Phil have invited us for an informal dinner. How does that sound?” I asked as I palmed cool water on my face and body.

 

“Sounds good. I’ll get in late Friday night. We can run errands and loaf Saturday. What time did they say?”

 

“Seven-ish. It will be very casual. I suggested that we bring dessert and wine. Ok?” I asked.

 

“Add it to our shopping list. By the way, I was trying to figure out when Doug, Brent, you and I can get together. They always seem busy.”

 

I almost choked as I said, “We’re not available this weekend and next weekend Brent mentioned that he and Doug are taking a long weekend in L.A. I think Doug wants to introduce Brent to his family.”

 

“Wow. Talk about an Italian homecoming. I hope no one gets deep six’d.”

 

“Oh, Mike. Give the guy some slack,” I playfully replied.

 

DOUG

 

It was mid-week. The party at the “O” Club had been an awesome success. I basked in the afterglow with Mike, because Special Services was a major contributor to the event. The Admiral and Commanding Officer were very pleased.

 

I walked through my leave request yesterday. Except for official posturing, Naval Officers took care of each other. I knew that Brent would have no problem in the Admiral’s Office. Today was the day to take care of the other matter concerning the L.A. visit. At 1630 I called home. I knew that Mom would be there. In LA it was only 1430.

 

“Hi Mom.”

 

~~~“Dougie. How sweet of you to call. You’re in Memphis? Is everything all right?”

 

 “Yeah, from Memphis.” That was cheerful enough without overdoing it. “Everything’s fine, Ma. I wanted to let you know that I’ll be in L.A. a week from Monday.” Very measured now. Keep a calm pace. “I’ll in town on business and wanted to bring a friend over to meet you and Dad.” Be slightly upbeat.

 

~~~”Oh Doug. Is this a new girl friend? Is she Italian?”

 

“No, it’s not a she. His name is Brent.” Take a deep breath. “A friend of mine in the Navy.” Just the facts, M’am. “A very good friend.” Here it comes.

 

~~~”What do you mean, ‘good friend’? This friend is special?”

 

“About as good as you can get.” Momentum rolling. “More than best friends.” Bombs away.

 

~~~”Doug, when a man is more that a best friend to another man, well, I mean, that’s not what we taught you at home, I, well, ummm, this doesn’t make any sense. What are you trying to tell me, and who is this better than a best friend…have you been corrupted…oh Mary, Mother of Je…”

 

“Ma. Please don’t talk so fast. Ma, you’re yelling.” Ratchet down time.

 

~~~”You’re living in sin. How can a son of mine be telling me that he’s with a man doing what the Church teaches is only reserved for a man and woman? I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this. I don’t think there is anything else to say. I’m going to…”

 

“If you hang up, there’s no turning back.” That should get her attention. “Mom. Listen for a second. Have I ever disappointed you or Dad?” One guilt trip coming up. “I wish we were in the same room talking right now too.” Play the sympathy card.

 

~~~”Dougie, I love you. I honest to God don’t know how to react to what you’re saying. You’re saying that you and this other man are homosexuals? What’s the word? Gay?”

 

“Ok, here’s the deal. I’ve never, Ma, never been interested in girls. The girls I dated in high school and college were just cover up.” Lower the tone and rhetoric.

 

~~~”What about Sarah and Melissa? You mean that those steady girls didn’t mean anything? Maybe you didn’t give it a chance? Maybe you need the right woman to make you a man? Oh, I don’t know what I mean?”

 

“I’ve tried. Believe me I’ve tried. You think I’d want to be gay if I had a choice? Believe me, Ma, I’m no less a man.” There it was. I said it.  Give her a chance to whack away at my vulnerabilities.

 

~~~”What did your Dad and I do wrong? Are you sure you can’t change? This something that you haven’t chosen? Oh God, what am I saying? How did this turn out like this? Maybe you should talk to a Father at Church?”

 

“You have no idea how many times I’ve asked that same question. I don’t know why. It just is.” Maybe this will work out? “And no, I don’t want to talk with a Priest.” Jeez, they have enough problems.

 

~~~”Are you positive that this is the…ah…person that you want to be with in that way?”

 

“Yes, I’m very sure. He’s the one I’ve given my heart to.” Do I use the “L” word? “I do love you, Dad, and our family. Brent is the one that I want to bring into your lives as my partner. My love is just as real as Louie’s is for his wife.” Brother Louie had married his high school sweetheart last year. Hopefully, Mom could understand the similarity of her two son’s love for their significant other?

 

~~~”Son, you’ve given me a lot to think about. But, you’ve never disappointed us. Give us a chance to discuss this. If this is what you want, I can’t turn my back on you…or your friend.”

 

“Ok Mom. I want to see you. I’ll be there on Monday. I’d like to talk to you and Dad over lunch. Just the three of us. Then, I’d like you two, Brent and me to go out to dinner somewhere nearby before we return on Tuesday.”  Here’s the contract. Does she sign? “Can you sell Dad? I’ve never heard him run down gays. I just don’t want to be the first one in his crosshairs.” This is subtly laying it on the line.

 

~~~”I don’t know, Dougie. Your Dad is very strong willed and stubborn. I can’t tell you that he will be very accepting. He may be very upset and unforgiving. What happens then?”

 

“The consequences are that you’ll never have to bother with me again. I’ll just accept that my family doesn’t love me.” Second guilt trip…big time.

 

~~~”That’s no way to speak to your Mother. Threats will get you nowhere.”

 

“That’s not a threat. That’s reality. If you can’t accept me for what I am or the man I love, then it’s not worth a close relationship.” Bottom line.

 

~~~”Now what a minute. You are part of our family. I don’t quite understand why or what you’re doing with this Brent. But I don’t want to split up our family. I love you son. We both do.”

 

“No Ma, I don’t want that either.” Reverse engines.  “And, I love all of you very much.” Mellow out time. “Please smooth the waters? Brent is very important in my life.” Resolution with crossed fingers.

 

~~~”You know I’ll do my best. I’ll talk to your father tonight and try to sell him on these changes in your life. Can we talk tomorrow?”

 

“Ok. I’ll call tomorrow about this time.” The ball is moved to the three-yard line. “I love you.”

 

“Love you, Son. Bye.”

 

Thursday, our second telephone conversation was like old times. I could hear reluctance in Mom’s voice. But she was trying. We confirmed the lunch date. I didn’t push the dinner right now.

 

*****

 

The next week was a blur of the usual activity. Friday morning, Brent and I boarded the 0845 Northwest Flight #179 to LAX. With the time change, the four-hour flight brought us in on time at 1045 PDT. After collecting our bags, we saw a very handsome young man in a black suit holding a sign stating “Di Marco.” I walked over to him and said, “Are you looking for Doug Di Marco?”

 

“Yes Sir. Welcome to Los Angeles. I’m Chuck. Chuck Barnett. ”

 

“Chuck, this is Brent Williams.” We all shook hands.

 

“I’m Mr. Barron’s personal assistant. He has told me all about you two. From what I know, you two must be very successful in what you do.” With that, he winked very subtlety. We all smiled. He grabbed our carry-on bags a led us to a very sensible, dark blue BMW 750 curbside. I noticed that the license plate was not livery-tagged. It read “SB.”

 

Once in the backseats of the comfortable, leather-trimmed German masterpiece, we gently cruised away from LAX to the 405, to Wilshire Blvd and Beverly Hills.

 

“Chuck, what exactly is your relationship with Mr. Barron?” I asked fairly innocently.

 

“During the day, I’m his PA at the office. I guard the gate so to speak. After hours, I also do that plus whatever else he wants.” He looked at me through the rear view mirror and smiled.

 

“Got it.” I returned his smile with a wink.

 

“Brent, I know that Doug was raised here. How about you? Have you ever been to L.A.?” ‘Ok,’ I thought. ‘Reality time.’ Chuck is clearly more than a gofer.

 

 “This is the first time in your city,” Brent replied. “I’ve lived in New York all my life except for the time in Memphis. Where are you from?” 

 

“Originally West Virginia via Ohio State University and New York to work with a theater talent agent. I came out here about two years ago and met Sam shortly after at a party. Been with him and Creative Artists Management since then.”

 

We rolled onto Lasky Drive and into the cobblestone-paved entry to the newest luxury hotel in Beverly Hills. Creative Artists Management – CAM – was right across the street. Arriving at the entrance, Brent and I got out of the car. Chuck directed the bellman to the trunk he had popped open from the dashboard controls.

 

At the front desk, Brent and I were welcomed profusely. Talk about suck-up time. It was explained that all charges were taken care of by CAM. Following the bellman, we were directed to one of the garden bungalows that were discretely positioned behind a luscious garden. Chuck followed us.

 

Once inside, the bellman showed us all the amenities of this beautiful two-bedroom suite. The designer had been given carte blanche.  After the banter was completed, Chuck gave the Bellman a twenty-dollar bill. The bellman was very happy as he departed.

 

“Guys, here’s the plan. I’d suggest a light lunch and a little naptime. This is going to be a busy weekend. Your success is vital in Sam’s final business dinner on Monday with the two princes from Saudi Arabia. We’re all in this together.”

 

BRENT

 

“Chuck, knowing that you and Mr. Barron are more than business associates is reassuring. Tell us what we need to do to achieve this success.”

 

“I appreciate the no ‘bullshit’ approach,” Chuck answered. “Let me first say that when I was told that the two of you were coming in from Memphis, I couldn’t fucking believe it. I imagined a couple of local yokels out of ‘Hee Haw.’  Ok. I’m guilty of stereotyping. Remember, I’m from West Virginia. When I saw you two, with a natural male handsomeness and an intellectual curiosity, I understood why Sam wanted you here. The guys that are available here pale by comparison. And believe me. In L.A., everyone is available.”

 

“We plan on being part of Sam’s success. Just give use a clue along the way. I hope you know that Doug and I will not disappoint.”

 

“Here’s the plan as I know it. Tonight you two will come up to Sam’s home in the Hills for a quiet dinner with the two princes, Sam and me. The dress is L.A. casual. Look into your closet for inspiration. Don’t worry about toiletries. Everything is at the house.”

 

“Will we be coming back to the hotel?” Doug asked.

 

“Yes, at some point tomorrow. It really depends on how the princes enjoy your company. The only scheduled appearance is dinner at Spago in West Hollywood Saturday night. Sam has a table that is his every week. Unless you hear otherwise, we will have a large party there including some actresses that love the attention we pay them. They’re all represented by CAM.”

 

“That sounds like fun. Who all will be joining us?”

 

“I’ll find out tomorrow. Be out front at eight when I return to pick you up tonight.” With that, Chuck waived and left our suite.

 

I pulled Doug into my arms. “I guess we’ve been welcomed to La La, Honey.”  We closed in on a tight embrace.

 

“Yeah. Welcome to my hometown. Ain’t it a bitch?”

 

“We’ll face the family welcome Monday. In the meantime, let’s explore the suite.”

 

We walked into the master bedroom and opened the walk-in closet. Inside was a collection of apparel that would make any clothes hound jealous. Arranged in opposite areas were clothes that were tailored exclusively for us: Jackets, slacks and pre-laundered shirts. I looked down and checked out the variety of shoes in both our sizes.

 

“Doug, I think we won the gay clothes lottery,” I said with a chuckle. Returning to the bedroom, we embraced and prepared for a short nap in the nearest bed.

 

DOUG

 

As I kissed Brent, I couldn’t help but think that there was a lot of money at stake. The wardrobe we discovered was fucking sensational. In addition to the five grand that was the fee for this gig, we got to keep a wardrobe that had to be worth twice the value of our “paycheck.”

 

We stripped and rested until 7:00 p.m. After cleaning up, I dressed in a casual, comfortable black on black shirt and pant ensemble with a silver-inlayed belt. Brent looked great in tropic beige. We both were commando. Our soft cocks casually swayed against the micro-fabric as we walked. Perfect.

 

Looking hot wearing a form-fitting white polo shirt and jeans, Chuck met us at the hotel entrance with the Bimmer and we motored up the “Hills” to a mansion that was discretely tucked away behind tall shrubs and a wall. Using a remote, Chuck opened the two large, iron gates backed with green canvas, and we proceeded up the curved drive to a sprawling one-story home featuring flagstone, glass and redwood trim. The “moonlighting” in the surrounding trees set off a very impressive scene. ‘Hell,’ I thought’ ‘This is what L.A. is all about.’ I subconsciously started humming “Hooray for Hollywood” as we all got out of the car.

 

Opening the door was a short, dark-featured man in his late-thirties with an acceptable build and a face that probably had been enhanced. ‘Nice job,’ I judged. ‘His plastic surgeon is very skilled.’  Chuck walked up and embraced him with a short kiss on the lips. “Hey, Sam.”

 

Sam kissed him back and turned to us. Knowing who we were, he smiled and shook each of our hands, using our names. “It’s great that you could get away for this weekend. As you know, it’s very important that we all succeed.”

 

“We’ll do everything in our power to entertain your guests,” Brent rejoined.

 

“From what I’ve been told and what I see, you are most welcomed. The two men, Abdul and Fahd, prefer to be called Abe and Fred. Abe is the taller of the two. And he loves blond men, Brent. One word of caution: Don’t bring up their royal titles or country. And, they think that you are both students. Later, if they want you to stay tonight, both like a little dominant action with them playing submissive. They prefer getting fucked. Any problem with that?”

 

“Absolutely not. Brent and I will go with the flow. We will keep our time flexible through Monday morning.”

 

“Great,” Sam said. He wrapped his hands around Chuck as the group entered massive foyer that was best described as upscale rustic California. Lots of slate, stone and wood beams with neutral off-white walls that were the backdrop for an incredible grouping of abstract art, expertly lit. The area carpets were museum-worthy. Walking into the living room, we saw two men standing by the fireplace dressed in casual slacks and Tommy Bahama silk shirts. The taller of the two, I guessed that Abe was in his late twenties. My ‘date,’ Fred, was probably thirty-five.

 

“Gentlemen, our guests have arrived.” Sam made introductions all around. Abe and Fred had already met Chuck. An Asian man in a white jacket offered us white wine. “I think you’ll enjoy the Corton-Charlemagne,” he proffered.

 

The light conversation maneuvered around Abe and Fred’s travels in our country and Sam’s business. Names like Brad, the two Toms, and Julia were mentioned as a matter of fact. He represented all of them. Brent and I would comment whenever asked to jump in. We had seen several of the actors’ recent films. Sam slipped into the conversation his excitement about an Australian actor by the name of Russell Crowe that he wanted to use in a new film. Abe and Fred listened intently. This was the production that was being brought to the table for financing. Kevin Spacey and another Australian actor would be co-starring with Crowe. Sam also represented Curtis Hansen, who would direct. I was impressed. ‘God,” I thought, ‘would I love to be working on this film.’

 

After a short while, we all moved into a dining room that offered a spectacular view of the pool and bathhouse below and the manicured landscape. A beautiful buffet of skillfully prepared hot and cold finger food was expertly displayed. This was merely a snack to tide us over until a large meal, that Saudis loved, would be served after midnight.

 

BRENT

 

After filling a plate with food we started pairing off as couples for the evening. Abe was very polite and moderately attractive with his olive brown skin and dark features. He was around 5’ 10” and obviously kept in shape. I saw Doug and Fred walking outside to the balcony. Fred was shorter and a little thin. Wiry was probably the best description. Sam and Chuck had returned to the living room.

 

“I’m happy that you could take a break from studies and join us for the weekend.”

 

Placing my half-finished plate of food on the table, I walked over to him put my arm around his waist. “Abe, I look forward to it. Sam’s a great host and I know we’ll have a good time.”

 

He put his plate down and moved closer to me. “May I invite you to my room?”

 

“Lead the way.” I followed him as we walked out to a wide hallway that was lit only with indirect lighting and a continuation of the art collection. We stopped at the second door and he gestured for me to enter.

 

“Come inside, my beautiful man.” He followed me inside this massive bedroom that was painted in a chocolate brown that set off more art and a cream-colored Berber carpeting. ‘I’m sure that I had seen this room in Architectural Digest,’ I judged, as I heard the door close behind me. I turned as he walked up to me.

 

Pulling him closer, I said, “I think we’ll be more comfortable without our clothes.” I unbuttoned his loose shirt and removed it. I pinched his nipple to indicate that I knew what was going to happen. “Take off my shirt.” After he removed it, I took it and placed both shirts neatly on an ottoman.

 

“Oh Brent, what can I do for you?” I sensed his was slightly quivering with anticipation. His dark eyes sparkled.

 

“After you take off your shoes and pants, get over here and take off mine.” I toed off my shoes as he removed the remainder of his clothes. I observed that he was thinner than I expected with normal Muslim-mandated circumcised equipment and a heavy patch of pubic hair. I smiled and the smile was returned as he walked over to me. ‘I hope that I have this role-playing figured out,’ I pondered. ‘No second-guessing now.’

 

Releasing my belt and un-zipping the fly, he slowly pulled down my slacks as I slipped out of my shirt. After stepping out of them, I said, “Put my clothes over on the chair.” He did so and returned to me with his dark-skinned cock coming alive. The purple head was now half-out.

 

Looking lustfully into my eyes, he asked, “May I, Sir?” as he reached for my still-flaccid dick.

 

“Get down and make we wet.” With my cock in hand, he kneeled and immediately put his nose to my crotch. Licking my balls, he was getting the job done. I was waking up. As it went to full-mast, the hot tongue started moving up and down my length. “Take it in your mouth,” I ordered.

 

“Yes Sir.” His lips immediately encased my dickhead.

 

“Hold it right there.” He did as told. I started slowly fucking his face.

 

“Hmmm,” Was the only reply.

 

This went on for a few minutes. I stopped and withdrew when I felt too close to the edge. Pulling him firmly up, I asked, “Do you like my cock?” He nodded. “I can’t hear you.”

 

“Oh yes Sir. Very much,” he urgently replied.

 

“Do you want that hard cock up your ass?”

 

“Yes Sir, please.”

 

I maneuvered Abe to the bed, lifted him under his arms and firmly placed him on his stomach. Getting on my knees between his legs, I reached under his body and started massaging his pecs and nipples vigorously while probing his pits with my thumbs. He whimpered when I pinched his tits. At the same time, I marked him by biting and sucking his left ass cheek. ‘That will give him a reminder of me for a few days,’ I thought, smiling.

 

Grabbing some lube from the nightstand, I dribbled a few drops on my cock and reached for a conveniently placed condom. After rolling it down, I generously applied lube on my encased cock and hands. Aggressively rubbing his brown anus, I started with two probing fingers and boldly rubbed his sphincter and beyond. Although playing the ‘dominant’ role usually meant entering roughly, I didn’t want to cause pain. After applying a third and forth finger, I growled, “Are you ready to take it like a man?”

 

“Urrgh, Uhhh…..” He nodded yes while uttering something in his native language. I raised his rear by lifting at his pelvis area. He instinctively supported himself with his elbows. I brought my slick hard meat and parked the head at his chute for a moment. Reaching around, I grabbed his equally hard dick and slowly entered him, not stopping until my 8” weapon could go no further. “You ready for a ride?” I said lowly into his ear.

 

“Ahhh, yes Sir.”

 

Do you want it slow and easy, or fast and hard?”

 

“Hard Sir. The harder the better.” He was slightly squirming trying to get more of me inside him.

 

I slapped his buttocks and started long-dicking him with an increasing tempo. After a few minutes my balls were slapping against his. “Like it fucker? Tell me how much you like it.” He kept grunting incoherently.  This continued until I heard his breath shortening. I knew he was ripe. But I wasn’t ready for either of us to cum yet. I withdrew and swiftly rolled him over to his backside. He opened his eyes and looked at me with a questioning expression. “You want more?” I already knew the answer.

 

“Oh yes…Sir.”

 

“I like to look at my man in the face when I shoot a load.” I brought his legs up around my shoulders and rammed my still-hard dick back in. As I started up to regain the momentum I noticed a dreamy smile on Abe’s face, with his eyelids half-closed. Perspiration was dropping from my body onto his sweat covered brown skin. As I slammed home, I felt his ass muscles start to tighten.

 

“Ohhh fuck, oh shit…Allah be…Uggh,” he shouted as he shot a load up his stomach. This brought me home. I sunk into him and felt my dick swell even more as I blasted into the reservoir head. Abe was writhing with pleasure.

 

DOUG

 

As I finished slamming into Fred, I removed his legs from my waist and gently moved over to his side.

 

“Doug, that was beautiful. Thank you.”

 

“My pleasure.” I knew from his tone that the role-playing was over. Part of the pleasure was his submissiveness to my subtle “dom” part. I was now returning to the role of escort. I leaned over and kissed his eyelids. We lay there for a while. I let his hands explore my body.

 

“Dear Doug. Would you honor my request to go out to the pool with me?”

 

“Fred, I think we could both use a shower first.”

 

“There are showers outside by the pool.”

 

“Let’s go.” We got out of the massive bed and put on terry robes. ‘I guess skinny dipping is okay in his culture if you’ve just been fucked by another man,’ I considered, as we walked out to the back patio and down to the pool. We both tossed our robes on a chair and showered each other down. Looking over, I noticed that Brent and Abe were in the Jacuzzi with Sam. Chuck walked over to us, also in the buff.

 

“Gentlemen. I guess we all came up with this idea independently.” Sam’s boyfriend was definitely checking me out.

 

“Hi Chuck. Yeah this is a beautiful evening. It would be a shame to let this all go to waste.” He was no slouch in the body department either.

 

“Are you enjoying the evening, Fred?”

 

“Absolutely. Doug and I have been having a wonderful time. He is great company.” He squeezed my hand.

 

“I’m going to jump in the pool and cool off. Doug, Fred, you want to join me?” Chuck asked.

 

“Let’s go.” I kept my hand with Fred’s and we walked over to the pool and waded into a water temperature that was just perfect.

 

BRENT

 

Relaxing in the Jacuzzi after the first coupling of the evening, I saw the trio go into the pool. Abe got up and said, “I’m going to join the other men for a little cool-down. Brent, stay here. I’ll return soon. Wait for me?” He winked while climbing out of the agitated hot water.

 

When Abe was out of hearing range, Sam said, “I think that you and Doug are going to help make me a very rich man. If everything goes as well, I won’t be able to thank you to enough.”

 

“Well, Sam, if everything is successful, I want to mention that Doug gets out of the Navy the end of the year and plans on returning to L.A. to start a career in your crazy film business. He’s a graduate of the UCLA Film School.”

 

“Really? That’s interesting.”

 

“Please don’t mention it to him. He’d kill me if he knew I said this.”

 

“I’ll file this away for future reference. Now, tell me a little about you. I know we’ve never met. But, for some reason, you look familiar.”

 

“I did some modeling and print work back in New York a few years ago.”

 

“New York? That’s where I grew up. How about your folks?”

 

“Mom was an actress on one of the soaps and Dad played baseball ’til he blew out his knee.”

 

“”Soap? Which one?”

 

“Guiding Light.”

 

“Oh shit. Was her name Brenda Williams?” Sam started grinning big time.

 

“Ya…yes.” I stammered. My eyes were as wide as the CBS logo. I felt my heart going into overdrive.

 

“Fuck. My Dad represented her. He was her agent.”

 

I was dumbstruck. Almost in a small boy voice that quivered, I asked, “Your Dad was Uncle Manny?”

 

“Well, officially Manny Baranski. But I do remember you as a little toe-headed blond kid around four or five that would be at rehearsals. That was, what, 17 or 18 years ago? Your Mom was one of my Dad’s breadwinners. I used to go over to Studio 51 on East 44th Street after school to watch to the production.”

 

“My Mom loved your Dad. And, I remember your Dad’s kindness to me. Those were good times.” I plunged my head into the Jacuzzi momentarily to wash away the tears.

 

When I emerged, Sam asked, “How about you. What are your plans?”

 

“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but Doug and I are a couple. In fact, we’re going to see his folks Monday after we’re finished with the entertaining.” I looked into his eyes, trying to read any reaction. The only thing I saw was interest and curiosity. “I’ve got one more year in the Navy. Then, I’m coming out here and enroll in UCLA. I’ve got one year completed at Columbia.”

 

“Columbia? UCLA? You must be one smart goyim.”

 

 “Yeah. Smart enough.”

 

“Smart enough to look at opportunity in the face?”

 

“I don’t follow you.”

 

“Brent, bottom line is that I’m in the talent business. With your fucking looks, wholesome attitude, a brain that rises to the occasion, and possible acting chops that are genetic, I think that I could mold you to be a very hot talent here in Hollywood. There are a lot of pretty faces. Dime a dozen. What you offer as a package doesn’t come very often.”

 

“Wow, that’s a mouthful. This isn’t just bullshit, is it?”

 

“On my Father’s grave, and on your Mother’s, I swear that if you have faith in me, we can make a great future for you.”

 

SPECIAL NOTE: Those reading this story in real time are aware that the story is advancing two or three days after a new chapter is posted without any new chapters being added. I am converting earlier chapters from txt. to HTML. Apparently this is the established procedure whenever something is posted to a story. I plan on continuing new chapters of “Splash in the Pool” each Tuesday. Please excuse this temporary annoyance.  Thanks, Jack.