Page 4 of Something Like Hail

Noah glanced over his shoulder to whereNathaniel still sat.

“Don’t worry about him,”Marcello said reassuringly. “He finds this sort of businesstedious. I doubt he’ll take in a word of it. Speakfreely.”

“I want to work for you,”Noah said. “As an escort.”

“The direct approach!”Marcello sat and gestured at one of the chairs. “Please. Makeyourself comfortable.”

Noah did so, trying to position himself in away that was sexually appealing. He spread his legs wide and angledhimself so he could put one arm on the back of the chair. He wasn’tsure what to do with the other arm. He moved it around a few times,finally placing a hand behind his head.

Marcello was busy taking a tablet computerfrom a drawer, but when he looked up, he did a double take.“Everyone has their own definition of comfortable,” he said. “Areyou sure that’s yours?”

Noah shifted, cheeks burning as he adoptedhis normal sitting pose. For whatever reason, this seemed to makemore of an impression.

“Lovely,” Marcello said. “Ido wish I was still capable of blushing. That’s the problem withbeing shameless. I can’t remember the last time I felt the youthfulflushing of cheeks. Then again, that depends on which cheeks we arereferring to and to whom they belong. Tell me, what is it preciselythat an escort does?”

“An escort has sex withother people,” Noah answered, glad his face was already red. “Formoney.”

“Incorrect. That would beprostitution, which is illegal. An escort provides company togentlemen with specialized needs. Men who appreciate discretion.That definition is specific to the business I run. I want to bevery clear on all points. One: You willnotexchange sexual favors formonetary rewards. Two: We cater to clients who demand exceptionalcare and quality. Three: The work done here is not to be discussedwith anyone, not friends, lovers, or spouses. Not even your mother.Do you feel you can handle all of that?”

“Yes,” Noah said, alreadywondering how much of it was true. He didn’t really want to havesex with complete strangers, but he was pretty sure Marcello onlypretended his business didn’t involve that for legal reasons. “Ifyou would just give me a chance, sir, you won’t bedisappointed.”

“Everyone deserves achance,” Marcello said, sliding the tablet toward him. “You canbegin by filling this out.”

On the screen was what looked like a verynormal job application, although without a section for previousemployment. The only equivalent was a blank field asking for areference. He entered the same name he had used on Nathaniel. TimWyman. The rest of the application didn’t require dishonesty,although one question tripped him up. “I don’t have a phone.”

“None at all?” Marcelloasked. “There isn’t a single number where you can bereached?”

There was, but Noah wasn’t about to give itout. “I’ll get one,” he said. “I promise.”

Marcello looked him over again, but not in away that felt sexual. He barely glanced at the tablet when it washanded back. Instead he motioned to Nathaniel, who approached totake it before asking for his ID and Social Security card. OnceNoah had relinquished these, Nathaniel returned to the elevator andleft with the tablet.

“Alone at last!” Marcellosaid, shooting him a wink.

Were they going to do it now? Noah assumedthat’s how it worked. Marcello would try out all of his boyspersonally before passing them around for money. Noah wondered—notfor the first time—if he could really go through with this. Hesupposed the test began now. “What do you want me to do?” heasked.

“Talk,” Marcello said.“Tell me how you know Tim.”

Great. Noah struggled to remember usefuldetails about him. He knew one story in particular, but it wouldn’tearn him any love. Instead he resorted to inventing things again,even though it went against his instinct. “I met him at aparty.”

“A party?”

“A club.”

“Ah,” Marcello said, as ifthis made more sense. “Go on.”

“We danced together,” Noahsaid.

“Did he extend theinvitation?”

“Yes. He bought me a drinkfirst. We talked a little, but mostly he just wanted to dance. Idid too.”

“You like todance?”

“Yes,” he said truthfully.“I’m pretty good. Tim was impressed enough that he mentioned your…business.”

Marcello smiled. “How thoughtful of him. Andhow did the evening end?”

“We just talked,” Noahsaid. “I didn’t go home with him.”