Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/229

 It was a small brass plate, inscribed with the name "Paul Boudreaux." It gave the door an air of something personal, and he liked it.

"Here we are," Paul said, turning his key and pushing the door open. "Hope this spooky hall hasn't scared you."

"I'm not scared."

Paul turned on a light and Gaylord was again in a modern world; amidst blond structures of wood and shiny metal. The light came from brassy lamps beneath clean homespun fabric and was directed toward a shaggy carpet.

"My gosh, Paul; what a difference," he cried, aghast.

"Like it?"

"It's like from a magazine." He absorbed the modern, masculine room. "Did you do this?"

"No, I had it done. I'm afraid I'm not the artistic type. Want to see the rest of it?" He smiled and patted Gaylord's waist. "Come on, I'll fix you a drink first."

"You think you should …? I don't want to pass out on you."

Paul laughed a throaty baritone. "Just a little one. I want to fix you a real special one."

Gaylord giggled. "What?"

"Surprise … Like surprises?"

"Sure."

"Come on then."

With his hand still on Gaylord's waist, they strolled across the room to a mirrored niche. Gaylord sat on the cushioned stool in front of a rounded blond counter. He had never seen so many bottles of liquor in a private home before. He grinned back at Paul who was busy shaking a chrome cocktail shaker.

"What do you do, Paul?" Gaylord asked innocently.

"I have a rich, a very rich aunt that thinks I'm terrific." He handed Gaylord a tumbler filled with a frosted whiteness. "In fact, she thinks I'm so terrific, she gave me this building along with four others. I don't know why … She was my mother's only sister. Never married … She was a wonderful woman … So kind and thoughtful … She loved the gay crowd … So I guess I'm sort of a cruel landlord. Taste your drink and see if you like it."

Gaylord took a sip. "It's good … Tastes like a milk shake." 219