Maybe the Moon

two men weren’t on the same wavelength at all. I just thought they’d look cute together. Jeff thought so too, I know damn well, though he’d done his best to convince me otherwise.
    “You know,” I said, after a pause, “people do lose phone numbers.”
    He brooded a moment longer. “So if I called him, what would I say?”
    I shrugged. “That you’d bumped into me, and that I’d told you about seeing him at Icon, and that had made you realize who he was.”
    “At which point he hangs up on me.”
    “Maybe not.”
    “You don’t mind if I mention you?”
    “Of course not.”
    “That would at least be a conversation point. What a coincidence it was, and all that.”
    “Sure.” I thought about this for a while. “If he told you his name was Bob, will he be freaked out that you know his real name?”
    “Probably,” he said.
    “Oh, well. Can’t hurt to say hello. You wanna borrow the phone? There’s one in Renee’s room, if you want privacy.”
    “She’s not here?”
    “Nope.”
    He heaved another sigh. “This is going to be irretrievably humiliating.”
    “Then don’t do it,” I said. “Or do it, anyway, and write a chapter about it.”
    He gave me a sardonic, brotherly smile, then went into Renee’s room and closed the door.

    I was making tea for us when Jeff returned to announce that Callum wasn’t in his room at the Chateau Marmont. He said he hadn’t left a message, since as far as Callum was concerned, he, Jeff, was just a one-night stand of several weeks back. How he’d come to discover Callum’s whereabouts, not to mention his true identity, wasn’t the sort of thing to be entrusted to a desk clerk. Even a desk clerk at the Chateau Marmont.
    Jeff waved toward the teapot in my hand. “That isn’t for me, is it?”
    “Both of us. Yeah.”
    “I have to run, Cadence.”
    “You dick.”
    “I know. I’ll make it up to you.”
    I set the teapot down. “Go on. Desert me. Leave me out here with all the wives.”
    He laughed. “I’m meeting with an editor. Otherwise…”
    “That’s OK. You’ll be sorry. When my video is all the rage on MTV, I’ll remember this.”
    “What video?”
    “Never mind. You’re in a hurry.”
    “You’ve got a video?”
    “I’ll tell you about it later. You want the picture of Callum?”
    He hesitated for a moment. “To keep, you mean?”
    “I’ve got two of ’em.”
    “Oh…thanks, then.” He went into the living room and picked up the photo, giving it a once-over. “It’ll be nice to have. Mostly because you’re in it.”
    “Right. Kiss my butt, now that you’re leaving.”
    He smiled. “How’s Renee, by the way?”
    I told him Renee was fine, that she was on vacation this week, that she was just out for a few hours. I didn’t put much into it, because I knew he didn’t really care. Jeff has always thought of Renee as a hopeless mess; especially since Easter, I think, when he caught a glimpse of her here in high Protestant drag, complete with handbag and corsage, on her way to church. They’re not enemies or anything; they’re just not exactly two peas in a pod. Most of my friends are that way; I’m all they have in common.
    “Do me a favor,” I said.
    “Sure.”
    “Find out about his movie.”
    “What movie?”
    “The one he’s making. What he’s come here for.”
    “Oh.”
    “Don’t say I asked or anything. Just let it come up. I’m sure it will.”
    “OK.” He thought for a moment before giving me a snaky look. “So that’s your stake in this.”
    “I have no ‘stake in this,’” I said firmly. “This is just a favor you can do for me.” For a moment it sounded like something Rumpelstiltskin might say, a wicked dwarf’s decree, so I laughed self-mockingly to convince him of my innocence and offered my cheek to be kissed.
    “I’ll call you soon,” he said, scrambling to his feet. “About a movie.”
    “Oh.” He meant seeing one, I realized. “OK.”
    “Did you read about Pee-wee, by the way?” (For a while, Jeff and I used to watch Pee-wee’s Playhouse together on Saturday mornings. We’re also serious fans of the movie—the first one, not that embarrassing sequel where they tried so hard to make him look straight.)
    “What about him?” I asked.
    “He was arrested in Florida for wagging wienie in a porn theater.”
    “Oh, no,” I said. “With another man?”
    “No. Alone.”
    “Can they arrest you for that?”
    Jeff was already out the door, heading for his car. “In