The mixer turned out to be a lot of fun. The bar was decorated in an ersatz South Seas motif with plastic flowers, plastic banana trees and plastic fish in a plastic fountain. The bartenders were friendly and could only be described as hunky. One of them was wearing nothing but a short grass skirt and a lei around his neck. As he moved around behind the bar, little flashes of flesh served to prove that the grass skirt was all that he was wearing. Everyone loved it.

Sam scanned the room and spotted several guys from Desert Pride, although he couldn't recall any of their names. Since everyone was wearing a name tag, he made it a point to greet each one of them and associate each of them with his name tag.

Over the shoulder of one of his neighbors he saw Toby come through the door and go to the table to check in. Sam excused himself and worked his way across the crowded room and caught up with Toby just as he was pasting on a name tag.

"Buy you a drink?" Sam asked.

Toby glanced over at the bar and then grinned at Sam. "No thanks. It's always more interesting to get your own drink when Frank's behind the bar."

Sam laughed. "You're right about that. Come on. You order, I'll pay and we'll both get to look."

They stood at the bar for as long as they could, until they had to give their places to some newcomers. Then they moved across to the fountain with the plastic fish in it. Sam asked about his trip, and Toby seemed pretty happy about it. "The only thing I hate about these meetings is I have to shave."

Sam looked at him critically and realized the stubble was gone. "So I see. Too bad, I kinda liked the unshaven look."

Toby grinned. "Not to worry. It'll be back in a couple of days."

Sam nodded. "I'll bet you grow it pretty fast." He reached out and ran his thumb across Toby's jaw. "It's already making an appearance. I tell you what, why don't you let me take you out for a dinner to celebrate its reemergence."

Toby smiled. "I guess it is your turn to pay, so yeah, I'd like that."

They went to Plum, a place Toby suggested. They sat out in the patio and ordered martinis. "One only," Toby proclaimed. "Any more and I'll never make it to work tomorrow." He grinned at Sam. "So what have you been up to while I was cooped up in a meeting room in San Francisco?"

"Not a whole lot. I moved into the condo, which took about three minutes."

Toby nodded. "I remember you telling me you bought it turnkey. How is it?"

Sam laughed. "Mostly junk. I took a bunch to the thrift shops this morning. You should have seen the stuff on the walls that was supposed to pass for art. The kitchen stuff looks okay, though. At least from what I can tell. Most of the linens are crap, so I'll be spending some time replacing sheets and towels."

The waiter, a young man about Toby's age (and almost as good looking, Sam thought) came to the table, pad in hand. He recommended the salmon with roasted garlic and dill or the leg of lamb with mint sauce. "Not the beef," he said in a conspiratorial whisper. "It's a little on the fat side. I think the chef is going to make them take it back."

They both ordered the salmon. When the waiter left, Toby asked Sam if he had met any of his neighbors.

Sam grinned. "Some. A couple of guys had an anniversary barbeque for some friends and invited me. Turned into quite a party. They had it out at the clothing-optional pool, so I got to see quite a lot of my neighbors."

Toby laughed. "I've heard stories about that place: nude swimming, naked cocktail parties, midnight orgies around the pool. Sounds to me like you got yourself into another hotbed of naked frolicking."

"Wow! You think stuff like that really goes on?"

"So I hear tell. One of the guys in my office lived there for a little while and loves to tell stories about it. I'm not sure how many of them are actually true, but they're fairly entertaining."

Sam smiled. "I'll keep you posted. Now, what about you? What did you do in San Francisco besides go to boring meetings?"

"Not actually a whole lot, although last night some of us went to a concert. It was pretty good."

"Oh? Where was it, the Opera House? Davies Hall?"

Toby grinned. "No, Sam. It wasn't that kind of a concert. It was called Naked Boys Singing, and it was done in a converted store front."

Sam laughed. "Oh, yeah. They're really good, I've heard. And really naked, too. Sounds like fun, I'm envious."

"They were good." A twinkle came into his eyes. "Good and naked. That pretty much describes them. Other than that it was work, work, work."

When the good-looking waiter reappeared offering dessert, they ordered the cheesecake-but only one piece, to be divided between them. The waiter grinned and went off to fetch it.

"You know," Sam said, "this has been fun. Why don't we do it again Friday?" He held up his hand, deflecting Toby's response. "No, no. My treat. Really, I want to, and I can afford two dinners in one week. Okay?"

Toby thought about it and finally nodded. "Okay. But you can't keep taking me out to dinner all the time. I mean, sometimes you've got to let me do something."

Sam shrugged it off. "It's not important who pays, Toby. Let's just enjoy it, okay?"

Afterward, Sam took Toby back to Toucan's to get his car. Then he went home, to bed. Alone, he realized. How come it's always alone?

Sam spent the rest of the week shopping for things for the condo and watching the demolition at the Las Palmas house. Things were going well, but the workmen had to be awfully careful of the walls. By week's end though, much of the siding was stacked up in the driveway.

He also decided that it was time to drop a few pounds and maybe shape up a little, so he started using the gym at the complex. He actually found it kind of fun, exercising naked, especially when someone else was there-naked. On Wednesday he even got to play with a guy, in the steam room. It was nothing serious but enough fondling to make them both breathe just a little harder. When they quit and went to the showers, the guy introduced himself as Nick Avery. He said maybe they could do it again-maybe go further if he could get out of the house without his lover. Sam simply nodded. He thought guys who needed to get out of the house without their lovers might be good guys to stay away from.

Friday evening finally came and Sam knocked on Toby's door promptly at seven. Toby seemed just a little out of sorts, but Sam passed it off as perhaps the result of an overwhelming amount of work at the office. Sam gave him a fleeting kiss and suggested he might feel better with a martini in his hand. Toby agreed.

Sam took him to Spencer's, the restaurant that had impressed him so much when Jay had taken him there. He'd even arranged that no check be presented.

They were seated quickly, and the maître d' took their orders for very-dry martinis. Toby ordered a double, which Sam found a bit out of character.

When the menus came, Toby noticed that his didn't have any prices on it. When he mentioned this, Sam just smiled and said it was that way so that Toby wouldn't be distracted and would order what really appealed to him. Toby rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything.

When they ordered, Toby also ordered another double martini, which Sam took to be a bad sign. When the shrimp cocktails came Toby picked at his a little, drained his martini in one gulp and threw down his napkin. "I can't do this," he hissed at Sam. "I cannot sit here, eating a twenty-five dollar shrimp cocktail while wondering how you are going to want me to repay you."

"Toby, easy. I don't want you to repay me. Your company, here at dinner is enough. I just like-"

"What?" Toby said, looking down at his shrimp cocktail. "What do you like? You looking for a toy? Well, I'm not your man. Try one of the busboys"

"Toby, no. I just wanted-"

"I know what you want, and I'm not it. You're looking for a... a thing you can have for a hundred dollars and the price of dinner."

That stung Sam so hard that he lost all control of his civility. "Is that what you think I want? A common whore? Someone I can buy?" he said in a low, menacing voice. "Well, if that's the case," he pulled out his wallet and threw a bill on the table, "there's your hundred. I guess you've earned it. Now eat your dinner."

Toby looked at the money on the table for what seemed a long time before he picked it up, crumpled it and dropped it into his shrimp cocktail. Then he stood and said, "I'm not hungry. Goodnight." He walked slowly and carefully to the door and out.

Sam pushed his chair back and stood, thinking to go after Toby. A waiter suddenly appeared at his side saying, "It's alright, sir. There is a taxi outside that will take him."

Sam's sudden anger quickly turned to embarrassment. "Will you see if you can-"

"I've taken care of it, sir. The wine had not yet been opened and was cancelled with the rest of the order. Will you come to the bar and perhaps have a drink?"

"No. Thank you, no. I'm way too embarrassed for that. I'll just leave. Quietly."

The waiter patted him on the shoulder. "Don't be embarrassed, sir. This... ah, this sort of thing has happened before. Please, promise you will come back another time." He handed Sam a card. "Ask for me. It will be my pleasure to serve you."

Sam dug out his wallet and handed the man a hundred-dollar bill. "Thank you, uh..." He looked at the card, "Henry. You're very kind."

Driving home, Sam's thoughts ran the gamut of emotions, from anger to hurt to confusion. He couldn't figure out what he'd done to set Toby off, and he found that he desperately wanted to know. Toby had somehow grown on him in the past three weeks, and he'd begun to think of him as potentially more than a friend. And now this.

Over a grilled-cheese sandwich at home, Sam decided to forget about Toby and just get on with life. He knew he wouldn't do it, but he felt better, pretending he would.

He took his fourth scotch on the rocks up to his bedroom, stripped off his clothes and went out on the balcony where he could look at the stars. When a couple of guys walked by, holding hands, he drained his drink, said "shit" out loud and went to bed. It was not a good night.

The next day Sam tried to get on with life, but by two o'clock he knew it wouldn't work. He'd hoped Toby would call him and apologize, but when no call came, Sam called him.

Toby was noncommittal on the phone, but agreed to meet Sam for a cup of coffee. Since the day was bright and sunny, they went to Koffi on Palm Canyon, where they could sit outside at little white tables and enjoy the early-spring weather under the trees.

After they'd gotten their coffee-each man paying for his own-they sat and looked at their cups. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Sam quietly said, "I'm really sorry for last night, Toby. The trouble is, I haven't any idea what I did that was so wrong."

Toby tasted his coffee and then took a long drink. When he looked up, he looked so miserable that Sam wanted to take him in his arms and comfort him.

After a moment Toby took a deep breath and shook his head, as if to clear it. "May I tell you a story, Sam?"

Sam nodded and sipped at his own coffee, not trusting himself to say anything.

"Once upon a time," Toby started, in a quiet, dreamy voice, "in a faraway land called Los Angeles, there was an eighteen-year-old college boy. The boy lived with his parents, because, even though he had a scholarship and a part-time job, he couldn't afford to live anyplace else.

"One day, in the college coffee shop, he met a man who swept him off his feet. That very night the man took the boy to dinner and, afterward, to bed. It was the biggest bed the boy had ever seen, and from it he could see for a hundred miles across Los Angeles, and, if the night was clear and he looked carefully, he could see Catalina Island."

Sam swallowed hard, thinking he knew what was coming. He didn't.

"The boy spent that night, and many others, with the man. He learned to do things that brought the man, and himself, incredible pleasure, things he'd heard about and some he hadn't, but all were wondrous.

"There were other pleasures, too. The man gave the boy things, things the boy could never have bought for himself, and provided experiences that he could never have had otherwise. They actually went to Catalina Island once for a weekend and looked back with a telescope, trying to find the bedroom with the very big bed." Toby looked at Sam and laughed, but the laugh had no humor in it.

"So the boy fell in love." He shrugged his shoulders. "Who wouldn't? The boy loved, trusted and adored the man and would do anything to please him. Even go to bed with his friends."

Sam sucked in his breath. "Toby, no."

Toby smiled. "Oh, yes, Sam. Anything. I loved Jack." His tone changed and he became very controlled, almost business-like. "I think I knew pretty quickly what was happening, but when you love someone the way I loved him, any misgivings are easy to ignore. Well, it wasn't until a man I'd spent the night with... Let me back up. Jack liked me home at night, in his bed, in his arms. He was very sweet that way. It was unusual not to be with him." Toby shrugged and looked away from Sam, as though he was talking to the tree they sat under.

"Anyway, I'd spent the night with this guy, and in the morning he pressed a hundred dollars into my hand and told me it was just for me and not to tell Jack about it." Toby paused and looked back at Sam. "It took me almost all the way home to realize that it was a tip. That's how dumb I was. So you see, Sam-"

Sam shook his head. "So what happened?" He was half afraid to hear the answer.

"The usual. There was a loud scene, some things were broken..." He caught Sam's expression. "No, no parts of me-or him-got broken. Except maybe for my heart. And then I ended up where I'd started, back in my parents' house."

Sam wanted to cry and take Toby in his arms but knew it was the wrong thing to do-at least, at that point. He sat back and rubbed his eyes, searching for the right thing to say. Toby solved his problem.

"So now you know why last night happened."

"Yeah, I guess I do." They sat in silence for a while. Then, quietly, Sam said: "I'd still like to get to know you, find out who you are, let you find out who I am. Can we do that? Try to be friends? No strings, no expectations, no obligations. Just... just friends?"

Toby spent a long time thinking before he nodded. "I need a little time, Sam-mostly, I guess, to get over my embarrassment. But... Yeah, we can try being friends."

Sam reached across the table and offered his hand. Toby solemnly shook it, sealing the bargain.