Chapter 2

Leo arrived at Chantelle's Kitchen a little earlier than the time he had arranged with Roger. He was dressed in one of his finest suits. Max had told him to dress in his best attire, but Leo's wife, Ulla, had helped him in that department; he had never been very fashionable himself.

The restaurant had an expensive air to it. The waiters were dressed in tuxes, everyone seated at the tables were all dressed up, and everything looked so clean and pristine. Leo could only imagine the prices written next to some of the food. He hoped Max had given him enough to pay for it all so he wouldn't be stuck washing dishes afterwards.

The host, a blond man in an expensive tux, approached Leo once he had returned to his podium. "Name?" Leo had made reservations to avoid any extensive waits or diva fits from Roger.

"Leo Bloom, but I'm waiting for someone else," he said just as Roger came bounding through the doors. He was decked in his sparkly tuxedo - the one Max always rolled his eyes at - and had his hair gelled back. He put a hand on Leo's shoulder and smiled at the waiter.

"We're ready to be seated," he said.

The host cocked his eyebrow at the two. "Then follow me." He picked up two menus and led Roger and Leo toward the main dining area. Roger's face lit up when he realized that they were going to be sitting at the table directly under the crystal chandelier. Leo, on the other hand, wasn't so excited. He could already feel his heart hammering against his chest, and the looks the host was giving them didn't help.

"Your waiter will be over in a moment," the host said. Roger gave him a friendly wave as he walked away, and then turned his attention toward Leo.

"So, Mr. Bloom, how are you doing this fine evening?" the director asked, draping his hands over Leo's. Leo slowly pulled his back toward his menu and flipped through the pages. He had been right; the prices were ludicrous!

"I'm doing fine, thank you," he replied.

The two remained silent for a moment as they looked over their options. Leo was grateful that by the time they had both placed their menus down, their waiter came to the table. It put off talking to Roger, even if it was only another minute or two.

"Hello, my name's Andy, and I'll be your waiter this evening," he said, flashing a smile. "What would you like to drink?"

"A bottle of champagne!" Roger exclaimed. "Sound good, Leo?"

Leo had been hoping to just get a Coke, but he wasn't about to argue. "Sure."

"Excellent! And I think we're ready to order, too. I'll have the steak tips with veggies, please."

"The same for me."

"I'll put that right in," Andy told them, and then took off.

Roger leaned his head in his hand and gazed into Leo's eyes. Leo folded his hands to prevent them from shaking too much. "So, Leo, you wanted to speak to me about the new show you and Mr. Bialystock are producing?"

"Yes," Leo replied, glad to be getting back on track. "That's exactly why we're here. It's called Prisoner's of Love. It's kind of like Springtime, but with convicts instead of Nazis, and we want you to direct and star in it."

"Hmm." Roger stroked his chin. "Well, I'm not too sure I'm willing to trust the two of you after your last scheme. Using me and all, just to make yourselves a fortune."

"And Max and I are completely sorry for that." At least Leo was. He wasn't so sure about his colleague.

"If you think a simple apology will win me over, you're sadly mistaken. I'm sure that you were misguided by Mr. Bialystock, the piece of scum. After all, you're so sweet and innocent." He took Leo's left hand and ran his fingers along it. Leo wasn't sure whether to be happy about the comment or be worried. "I don't blame you as much as I blame him. But still, there is that issue of trust."

The champagne came, and soon after, their meals. Roger and Leo stuffed their faces with their steak tips and the veggies that accompanied them. Both agreed that their dishes were delicious, but they spoke little about the food. It was a mere distraction from their continuing debate about the new musical. Leo continued to apologize and promise that he and Max weren't using Roger this time around. They wanted him to direct the show because they thought he was great - or at least the audiences did. But by the time Leo had paid the check, Roger still wasn't convinced.

"Well, Leo," Roger said, standing up from his chair, "I believe that you're sincere, yet I'm still not prepared to join you and Max. But, if you'd like to continue this discussion, we could go back to my place for a little bit.."

Leo was ready to refuse. It had been awhile since he had last stepped foot in Roger's townhouse, but he could still remember it clearly. Carmen flirting with him, other men trying to dance suggestively with him to conga music; it wasn't something Leo wanted to go through again.

But Max's voice played back in his head. Come on, Leo! It's only show biz!

And maybe his business partner's words were true. A visit to Roger's place wouldn't kill him, and if anyone wanted to do anything a bit too crazy for Leo's liking, he could always refuse. He gave a nervous smile and nodded.

"Sure. Let's go."

As soon as Leo and Roger were back at the director's apartment, Roger sat him down on the couch in the living room. All the lights were out, and the only thing illuminating the room was the light that was coming from out the windows. There wasn't a sound to be heard, either. Carmen and the rest of Roger's production team that lived with him were probably all in bed.

"Um, Roger?" Leo asked. "Would you mind if we turned on a light or something?"

Roger put his hands and on Leo's shoulders and chuckled. "Very funny, Mr. Bloom." Leo reached for his blue blanket that was tucked away in his pocket, but Roger gave his hand a light slap. "You don't need that rag. You have me."

"Roger?"

Roger leaned in closer to his face. Leo could feel his hot breath on his neck. He tried to pull away, but Roger pushed him down on the sofa. He knew the director had drank quite a few glasses of champagne, but he hadn't expected this! "What?"

"I'm married, and I'm not . . . I'm not like you. Get off of me, please?"

"Married, not married, what does it matter?"

"And you have Carmen."

"He's probably asleep. We'll just keep quiet."

Roger pressed his lips in toward Leo's, but Leo turned his face away. He threw Roger off of him, but the director just pushed him back down. "Come on, Leo. Ever since I've met you, I've wanted this. You're so adorable. So cute."

"No, you don't understand!" Leo felt Roger unfasten a few of the buttons on his suit coat.

"Just a quickie. Then I'll sign your contract."

Leo pushed Roger off of him again. He stood up from the sofa, his hands trembling and his eyes wide. "No. We can find another director."

Roger rushed up to him and threw his arms around his neck. He wasn't ready to give up on having an intimate moment with Leo just yet. "Then let's compromise. Just a kiss, and I'll sign."

Leo was about to refuse again, but then he thought of Max. What would he say if he arrived back at the office tomorrow without a signed contract? He had been sure his plan would work, and being without his director and lead actor would only make him angry. And hadn't Max done worse things to raise money for Springtime for Hitler, like sleeping with little old ladies? If he had done that, Leo figured it was only fair for him to give Roger what he wanted in order to make sure that their new show was a success.

"Alright."

He pushed his quivering lips toward Roger's and locked on. He felt so strange. He had never kissed a man before. It was so odd, even when he tried to enjoy it. After a few seconds, he pulled away. He stood there, dumbfounded, while Roger jumped up and down with excitement.

"I'd do that again if you'd like," Roger told him, rubbing his face up against Leo's. Leo backed away and whipped out the contract and a pen that he had been storing inside his suit coat the whole time.

"Just sign," he said, his stomach still uneasy from what he had just done.