The Jade Butterfly. Jeffrey Round

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      “It was good, but a bit disconcerting.”

      “Do tell.”

      “You know me, I prefer discretion. Let’s just say he likes it rough, but I won’t go into the details.”

      A pause ensued. “Rough or violent?”

      “It’s a thin line, but I managed to walk it. So far just rough.”

      “Name? Occupation?”

      “His name’s Ren. My guess is he’s a Taiwanese businessman.”

      “Your guess? You obviously didn’t go in for more than the basics, if you don’t even know that.”

      “We had other things to discuss.”

      A demure pause. “No doubt. Will you see him again?”

      “Probably not. I left my number. He didn’t offer his.”

      “Too bad. He was unbelievably yummy-looking.”

      Dan paused, wondering whether to divulge more. Mischievousness won out, knowing Donny’s predilection for the frills and fripperies of life.

      “He’s staying at the Saint-Germain.”

      There was a pause.

      “An extremely wealthy Taiwanese businessman, then.”

      “I didn’t snoop in his wallet …”

      “And you call yourself a detective.”

      “… but that’s my guess, too.”

      “Anyway, it sounds like you struck it rich. I wish you luck.”

      “I know you better than that.”

      “Okay, you’re right. I wish you a brief but memorable fling before you come crawling back to the fold of the Lonely Hearts Club. I can’t be stranded here all by myself forever.”

      A buzzing interrupted the line.

      “Gotta go. I’ve got another call coming in.”

      “Keep in touch. Don’t leave town suddenly.”

      “I’ll try not to.” He hit the reset button. “Dan Sharp.”

      “Hello, tough man.”

      Dan felt the smile creep over his face.

      He settled in the chair and lifted his feet onto the desk, visions of himself splayed across silk sheets dancing before his eyes.

      “Hello yourself, Ren. It’s nice to hear from you.”

      “Thank you. You left your card. I thought it perhaps not inappropriate to call.”

      “Not at all.”

      “I wished to tell you I am very glad I went out last night instead of staying in my hotel. I think this is what is called serendipity, is it not?”

      “Something like that,” Dan said. “It doesn’t matter what you call it, but it was a good encounter.”

      “I should like to see you again.”

      “I’d like that, too.”

      “Perhaps not just for the personal, but also for business reasons.”

      Dan felt himself shift from casual to cautious. “I see.”

      “You are a private investigator.”

      Dan swung his feet off the desk and onto the floor. “That’s correct.”

      “Then we must talk,” Ren said. “Perhaps with the more personal to come afterwards.”

      Dan was silent. He wasn’t sure what he thought of mixing business with pleasure. It spelled complication.

      “Unless this is not the usual protocol?” came Ren’s voice.

      “You read my mind. We’ll have to leave it at that until you tell me more.”

      “Very good. Shall I come to your office? I am free this afternoon.”

      Dan glanced around the small, cramped space and thought again of the sumptuous Hôtel Le Saint-Germain.

      “Let’s meet somewhere else.”

      “When?”

      He opened his appointment book: blank.

      “How about an hour from now?”

      “Very good.”

      Dan looked over at his notice board and rattled off an address from a lunch flyer. “I’ll see you there,” he said, feeling a pleasant lightness at the prospect of meeting Ren again so soon.

      Six

      Doing the Dannie

      Toronto’s Danforth Avenue is to Greeks what Santa’s Village is to elves, with the scent of grilled calamari, the tangy kiss of tzatziki, and the crackling burst of saganaki flames to astonish the uninitiated before the ritual dousing in lemon juice. Then too there are the waiters, centaur-like with their crisp linens and protuberant buttocks, who smile and crinkle winsomely, but always leave you wanting more. Not everyone needs a stage to break a heart.

      Ren was seated near the back, dressed in a suit and tie. Armani, and not the cheap kind. At Dan’s arrival, he stood and gave a vigorous nod, his smile broadening. The greeting seemed oddly reverential. No matter, Dan liked eagerness in his dates, whether business or pleasure. He studied Ren’s face in the daylight: the flat cheekbones, silky skin, and pouting mouth. Late thirties, he decided, though he could pass for younger. Maybe because of the desire he saw etched there.

      They shook hands with a show of formality. Had it been two North Americans who’d slept together the night before they would have embraced, brothers at arms, revelling in the instant familiarity gays accord one another, no matter how disparate their backgrounds. Once you slept with a man, you were connected with him in some ineffable way that non-sexual comrades never could be.

      “It is a distinct pleasure to see you again so soon,” Ren said.

      “Thanks. Good to see you, too,” Dan replied.

      He would allow Ren his awkward formality for now. If he steered toward the weather and last night’s baseball scores as topics of conversation, Dan might rethink his strategy, but a bit of stiffness was fine for the moment. How straight men tolerated the nonsense they bonded over was beyond him, though maybe it was just a shallow connection they were seeking and not true intimacy. But one look at that angelic face atop a satyr’s body promised to be worth any amount of small talk he might endure.

      “I СКАЧАТЬ