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An Excerpt From: THE PERFECT COVER
Copyright © CLAIRE THOMPSON, 2007
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.
“Cut the crap, Gerald.” Robert, large and beefy, with a
full head of sandy blond hair, barked a laugh. “What Gerald’s trying to
say, Ryan, is you are one hot little package. Eye candy
for the guests, good enough to eat.” He smacked his lips and smiled
wolfishly.
Ryan felt his face heat and forced a smile in return. Since
he was there under false pretenses, he knew he’d better watch his step. Although
the question was never expressly asked on the application, Ryan was pretty
sure it was assumed anyone applying for a job at a gay resort was by
definition gay. And while Ryan had nothing against homosexuals and had in
fact even had the occasional sexual fantasy involving another man, he
considered himself as straight as the day was long.
“Thanks,” he managed, hoping to steer the interview to
more comfortable territory. “I really appreciate the opportunity to get to
know more about the resort and what my job might be, if I get it that is.”
He smiled what he knew was his best charming grin, a dimple appearing in
each cheek, his green eyes sparkling. Gerald and Robert smiled back,
leaning toward him like plants seeking the sun.
“Here’s how it works,” Gerald said. “We’ll hire you on a
provisional basis for the first two weeks. Your trial period as it were. If you do a good job and the guests like you, you
stay. If you do anything indiscreet, like try to sell drugs to our guests
or practice unsafe sex…” Gerald paused. “Are you okay, Ryan? You look
flushed.”
“Gerald, I think we may have an innocent on our hands.
We better lay this out more clearly for him. I don’t want to waste time
with some wide-eyed newbie who squeals at the first offer of cock from a
guest.”
“Here, have some water, Ryan. You look positively ill.”
Solicitously Gerald poured a glass of cold water from the silver pitcher on
the table between them and handed it to Ryan. He drank, ordering himself
silently to get a grip.
Clearing his throat, Ryan said, “I’m fine really. Just a
tickle in my throat.” Uneasily he wondered if he were in over his head.
Gerald accepted his explanation and continued. “We’re
impressed with your credentials and your excellent references.”
“But mainly with how you look in a bathing suit,” Robert
interjected as Gerald directed a frosty glare his way.
Turning back to Ryan with a tight smile, he continued.
“Your main duties would be to serve food and drinks to the men at the
cabanas you’re assigned to and on the beach, bring them fresh towels, get
something from a guest’s room they forgot, things like that. You’re
expected to put in six hours a day, six days a week. The schedule varies
depending on where and when you’re needed. What you do on your own time is
up to you. Swim, scuba dive, snorkel, go fishing, use the weight room,
enjoy the beach, even leave the island if you
wish. The resort’s yacht ferries guests and employees to and from Barbados
twice a day. Meals are free from any of our three dining facilities—there’s
an employee canteen at each one or you’re welcome to eat at any of the
outdoor cabanas when they’re open. You’ll stay in a staff bungalow with a
roommate, but you each have your own bedroom and bathroom.” He paused and
said, “How’s that sound to you?”
Ryan couldn’t help being impressed. There had to be a
catch. “That’s all I do?” he asked. “Just serve drinks and get towels and
stuff?”
“It’s not so much what you do, though that is
important,” Gerald replied. He paused and stared up at the ceiling as he
formulated his response. Looking back at Ryan, he said, “We strive to
create an atmosphere at Club Eros of beauty and luxury. This resort club is
for men who pay good money to come together for some serious fun. They
expect royal treatment by a staff of gorgeous young men. As an employee,
you are part of that atmosphere—an essential part. Club Eros,” he intoned,
his voice reverent, “is a paradise for the senses.”
Robert interrupted. “Which is Gerald’s flowery way of
saying your primary job is to look hot for the guests. You wear a Club Eros
Speedo during day shifts and shorts or jeans and a tank top on the evening
shift. You keep that gorgeous body of yours fit and tan and you make our
guests think you exist solely to please them. You are part of the package that
is Club Eros. White sand, blue water, luxurious accommodations, discretion
and privacy for those who wish it, plenty of public play for the more
adventurous, and last but most certainly not least, buff boys in bathing
suits that leave little to the imagination. That’s where you come in. Think
you can handle that, pretty boy?”
Ryan felt uncomfortable under Robert’s intense gaze. He
felt his neck heat and hoped he wasn’t blushing. The job was too good to
turn down, and since the hotel he’d been working at had been sold and his
job eliminated, it wasn’t as if he had a lot of opportunities at the
moment. He figured this would be a kind of paid vacation with only the
small, rather unsettling detail that everyone around him was gay and he was
supposed to be “eye candy” for the guests.
Yet Ryan liked a challenge and enjoyed trying new
things. He was reasonably comfortable around gay men and certainly had
nothing against them. Would he be able to pass? He’d been hit on by guys
before at bars and had been able to sidestep them pretty easily. How much
tougher could this be?
What the hell! What was life without adventure? “Sure,”
he answered, flashing his dimpled grin. “When do I start?”
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