Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Novelist/screenwriter David Fine and his girlfriend fashion model have had some of their Christmas celebration, but not all of it. In this installment, they attend a New Year's Eve party thrown by his best friend clothing designer Claude Marsh. Maritza had promised David a surprise, and we find out what it is. A character shows up that we haven't seen in a while. Way back when, David had promised to wear a gown if he was nominated for an Oscar; in this installment, the nominations are announced. And finally, the conspiracy is revealed!

Part 9
Usually, Claude’s parties were huge affairs with a hundred guests, live music, and a champagne fountain. But he did something different for this New Year’s Eve. It was a more intimate dinner party with a few friends and business associates. David found that concept much more comfortable, and he was actually looking forward to going to a party for a change.

Even though it wasn’t a big shindig, that didn’t mean they couldn’t dress up. Maritza wore an amazing black silk gown (one of Claude’s, of course) that softly draped her curves as though it were flowing liquid, all without seeming to be excessively tight or revealing.

David knew he wanted to wear something Claude had made, but he wasn’t sure. Maritza thought it should wear the red tux he wore on their first date, but he said no even when she asked him nicely. However he quickly agreed when she asked him naughtily. She made him wear a black shirt under it instead of the white, and that lent an air of gothic mystery to his look. He still thought he looked like a pimp, but a smoother one at least. Maritza had even braided his ponytail for him, so he felt it had a kind of “Kung Fu” aesthetic. The red ribbon she tied it off with detracted from that a little, but fortunately he couldn’t see it.

David didn’t like to be late, so he made sure they were on time for the party, but they still turned out to be the last guests to arrive. Claude showed them into the lounge and made introductions. David recognized a slender black girl who was chatting with Antoine as Vanessa, one of Claude’s assistants. He’d seen her a few times before when he’d met Claude for lunch.

A pudgy guy who apparently knew Maritza ran up to her and “air kissed” both cheeks. Jeffrey was a beautician who’d worked on her a few times when she’d done shows for Claude. He was there with his partner Tomas, a bronze set of muscles in a silk suit.

Kay was a strawberry blonde in her mid thirties who kept to herself mostly and quietly watched the crowd. She was an acting coach that Claude had brought in to help one of his models prepare for a show. David didn’t quite get all the details, but apparently the model was going to be wearing the centerpiece of the presentation, and Claude wanted to make sure she projected the proper emotion or something like that.

The other guests were an older couple, Ben and Evelyn. David could not figure out whether Ben had married much younger or if Evelyn was just in really good shape. Evelyn was very excited to meet David. She was a big fan of his books. In fact, when she’d learned that he was going to be there, she’d brought her hardcover copy of Sublimation in her purse, and David gladly agreed to sign it for her. He still had a hard time thinking of himself as famous, so it felt a little weird.

Maritza told her that she would be sure to love the next one, and Evelyn was extremely jealous that she’d gotten to read it before it was published. Claude snarled that he wasn’t even allowed to look at the manuscript. David got embarrassed and said that he’d wanted to impress her, and she’d shown a little interest on their first date, so for their second he’d brought her the book. Maritza pointed out that it was part of what drew her to him, that instead of flowers for her nose or chocolates for her tongue, he’d brought something to stimulate her mind. Most guys don’t even think that models have brains, but David saw her as a reader.

He was being lectured at length about proper eyebrow maintenance by Jeffrey when he was rescued by the announcement that it was time for everyone to go to the dining room. There weren’t any place cards or anything, so they were all free to choose their own neighbors at the table.

The dinner was delicious. Claude had hired an excellent caterer. They started with a fairly ordinary salad of crisp greens, but then the main entrée was a tender beef roulade in a puff pastry with a herbal mushroom filling, and it came with baby potatoes prepared in a balsamic glaze and a steamed carrot in the shape of a rose.

Maritza nudged David and said, “This is too complicated. I like your cooking better.”

Evelyn cocked her head. “You cook?”

Claude took control of the conversation and regaled them all with how impressed he’d been by David’s skill in the kitchen. David tried to shrug it off and just explain that he was raised by his grandmother and she taught him. He just thought that preparing a meal was the best way to center a home, and bring family or friends together. Kay smiled and said that it was a very sweet sentiment, and not one most men would share. The center of a man’s house was usually the living room, not the kitchen. That was probably the most she spoke all night.

After coffee and dessert, which was a miniature cheesecake layered with bitter dark chocolate, sweet caramel, and sour raspberry syrup, they gathered in the den to hear an exquisite performance from a young female violin player. David didn’t know anything about classical music, but the pieces she played were sad and beautiful. The audience convinced her to play two encores before she really had to leave.

The party had been so high-brow and low-key that they’d almost forgotten the holiday. Antoine went out on the terrace and started squinting at the horizon, and suddenly he pointed and called to everyone. If you looked in just the right spot, you could just barely see the fireworks that were going off over Marina Del Rey. That made everyone check their watches and at eleven-thirty Claude broke out the champagne and poured out a glass for each of his guests. He tuned his big-screen TV to the live countdown show, and at precisely the stroke of midnight they all shared a toast, and the couples shared kisses.

As David looked forward to a new year that would bring new possibilities and opportunities while he held the one the wanted to share it all with in his arms, it was a perfect moment. He took a moment to debate with himself about asking Claude to get Maritza’s engagement ring so he could propose to her, but he wanted a more intimate setting, and it still seemed like there were too many strangers around.

No one was too drunk to drive home, but they did wait an hour for the crazies to get off the road.

***

Maritza was fairly busy that week, with several auditions (or as they liked to call them in the modeling business “go-sees”) to be part of shows in events related to February’s Fashion Week. She ended up getting hired by Claude’s company, without pulling any strings or calling in any favors.

On Friday afternoon, she called David and told him she’d be bringing a friend home for dinner, but that neither of them was hungry for anything really heavy so he didn’t have to go through too much trouble. Fortunately, he hadn’t started the roast he’d been thinking of, and could switch to doing a soup and salad meal instead. He checked to make sure he had a good supply of vegetables, and then took some out some frozen soup stock and put it on to thaw. While in the freezer, he saw that he’d had some bread dough ready to go. His grandmother had taught him to always have the makings of a meal handy, in order to be ready for anything.

By five-thirty he had a nice chicken and vegetables soup simmering, and a colander of bowtie pasta ready to be added right before serving. A peasant loaf in the oven was making the kitchen smell like home. He’d washed the lettuce for the salad and was slicing cucumbers when the front door opened and he heard something heavy being dropped in the front hall.

Maritza walked into the kitchen. “You remember Amanda, right?” A thin girl with freckles on her nose and long red hair was with her. She wore a long-sleeved short green dress that matched her eyes, and white tights with an argyle pattern.

David thought about where he’d seen her. “You were at that apartment where I picked up Maritza in New York, right?” He reached out to shake her hand.

Amanda grabbed his hand and used it to pull him toward her. “That’s absolutely correct.” She surprised him with a kiss that was a little more than friendly and then let him go. “Ritz has some stuff to do upstairs, so is there something I can do to help you with dinner?”

There was something about her he was trying to remember. He put her to work washing tomatoes while he finished the cucumbers and worked on figuring out what was significant about her. He tried making small talk. “So, what brings you out to the left coast? Working on a fun fashion job?”

“My agent got me a commercial, and they’re shooting out here. But that’s not until Monday. I’ve got all weekend to play!”

“Did they put you up in a nice place?”

“They got me a room at the Marriott in Burbank. It’s a decent place; I’ve stayed there before. But I don’t check in until Sunday. I’m crashing here with you guys until then.” She flashed him a big grin.

“We’re not really set up for guests, but we can try to set up something. I don’t think anyone’s ever slept on our couch.”

“Don’t be silly! Ritz tells me you’ve got a nice big king-size bed. I’m sure I’ll fit in there fine.”

David instantly remembered, and nearly cut his hand as he dropped the knife. Amanda had introduced herself back in New York as someone Maritza used to date. She’d invited her ex-girlfriend to spend the weekend, sleeping in the same bed. Was she getting bored with him? Was kicking him out of his own bed her way of breaking up with him? He stepped back and had to hold his head while he took a few breaths.

Amanda didn’t know what to do. She ran to the stairway and called up, “Hey, Ritz! You’d better get down here. Something’s wrong with your man.”

Maritza dropped what she was doing and ran down to the kitchen. She recognized immediately that David was having one of his panic attacks. She guided him to a chair and held him tightly. “It’s okay, Baby. I’m here.” She stroked his hair while he shook. “What’s the matter?”

David tried to brave. He tried to man up and be strong, but his nose was running. “Are you leaving me to get back together with your ex-girlfriend?”

Amanda laughed at this and Maritza shot her a look. “No, you must have misunderstood something she said. Yes, Amanda and I have slept together before, be we were never girlfriend girlfriends. We were never in love or anything, right?”

“Nope, but you are sexy as hell and great in the sack!”

“Anyway, we were going to surprise you after dinner, but I guess I can tell you now. She’s the rest of your Christmas present from me.”

“What?”

“Every man has the fantasy about being with two women at once, and tonight we’re going to give that to you.”

“Yeah, we were working together a couple months ago, and I mentioned that I was between boyfriends and she told me all about how wonderful hers was, and that you were sexy and smooth all over, and that intrigued me, so I said why don’t we give your man a triple delight some time, and she at first didn’t want to share you, but I convinced her.”

“But, I don’t need another woman; I only need you.”

“That’s very sweet, but I know you will enjoy this. We’ll explain the rules to you after dinner. But first I need her help to finish getting ready upstairs. Will you be okay to finish getting this ready on your own?”

“Um, ok.” He nodded, waiting for his brain to catch up with all this new information.

Maritza kissed him and went out, and for good measure Amanda kissed him, too. He had absolutely no frame of reference for this. He almost missed the timer going off to tell him the bread was ready.

His head was still buzzing all through the meal. He didn’t have time to question anything when Maritza told him not to open a bottle of wine and served water glasses instead, and he did as he was told when Amanda handed her a couple of pills and she told him to take them. “The white one is to mellow you out a little. We don’t want you having a heart attack or a stroke or whatever. The blue one, well, everyone knows what the blue one is for. We want you to be able to go the distance.”

Maritza went to get ready, and Amanda helped David clear the table. When they finished, she brought him upstairs. The bedroom and master bath were lit with candles. There was a strong fragrance of vanilla in the air, and soft music was playing. Maritza was sitting on the end of the bed wearing nothing but a silk robe. Amanda went into the bath, and Maritza helped David undress and get into a matching robe of his own. She showed him how there was a heated infuser over on her makeup table sending scented oil into the room. She also pointed out that each nightstand had been cleared off and now only had two things on top: a folded towel and a tube of massage oil.

They walked over to the bathroom and Amanda was also in a robe, but she also wore a shower cap, and held one out for each of them. They helped David get his hair under the cap and then showed him the room, where big fluffy towels had been set out on the counter.

Amanda told him what was going on. “The rules are simple. Everyone is allowed to touch everyone else anywhere on or inside any part of their body, with any part of their body. Does that make sense?” He nodded. “And we start by getting completely clean, which is why we’re in here. But there’s one more thing you need to know. No talking is allowed, unless you’re in unbearable pain.”

“Okay.”

Maritza came in from the bedroom. “There’s one more thing you need to know. You only get to use your sense of touch. The windows are covered with blackout curtains, and I even covered the little blinky lights on the stereo with tape. With the candles out it’s totally dark in there. And all you can smell or taste is vanilla, and all you’ll hear is the music. You’ll never know who is doing what to who.”

She dropped her robe, got in the shower, and turned the water on. Amanda blew out the candles in the bathroom, and it became complete darkness. David soon felt his robe being untied, and hands pulled him into the shower, while other hands pushed. Someone started rubbing soap all over his body, which had more of that vanilla scent. While someone was washing his back, another bar of soap was pressed into his hand, which was guided onto a breast. He hadn’t thought Amanda’s were this big, so it must have been Maritza’s. He played around as he washed, spending an inordinate amount of time getting those nipples clean.

He moved on down, soaping up her stomach, sticking a sudsy finger in her belly button, and then moved his hands out to scrub her hips, then brought them together in the middle. When his thumbs hit a little patch of curly hair, he realized the naked woman he’d been touching wasn’t his girlfriend. He knew what he’d planned to do next when he thought it was Maritza, but now he didn’t know what to do, and froze there for a moment.

Suddenly, he was surprised as the bar of soap washing between his buttocks slipped inside him. He reflexively leaned forward, and now his hands were definitely touching something he wasn’t supposed to. He couldn’t come up with a better idea, so he washed it, paying some extra attention to her button with his thumb, and trying not to get any soap inside her.

She widened her stance a bit and he took the hint, teasing her labia with his fingers while the other hand kept the soap far away. Someone was now soaping up his erection, and a hand passed his on the haunch he was washing. He thought he might have heard kissing, and his hand was pushed aside from where it was. He was spun around and rinsed off, and he totally lost his bearings.

Someone turned off the water and opened the shower door, and he was taken by the hand and guided to a towel. It was soft and warm. He dried himself off, and then gentle fingers removed his shower cap and ran through his hair. His eyes were going crazy trying to find the smallest glint of light, but it was absolutely black. His towel was pulled from him and he was led toward the bedroom.

It was just as dark in there. He slowly walked to the bed while several hands slid over his body. He was pushed down onto the bed, and a mouth found his for a deep kiss. Then a hand turned his face and he was kissed from the other side. He felt a cool splash as someone squirted oil on his chest, but it quickly warmed up as fingers started smoothing it across his skin.

One of the hands stroking his chest found a nipple, and the mouth on his lips moved down to suckle at it. He tentatively moved his arm and gently stroked the back and shoulders of whoever was licking him. She seemed to like that; a hand found his other nipple and started playing with it.

Whoever was on his other side had his arm trapped under her body and was nibbling on his ear. He got bold and rotated his wrist around so that his fingers touched a soft thigh. She shifted position a little to give him more freedom. A hand touched his and led it up and back, where he found an eager wetness. He spent a little time exploring all the important parts, and then set his fingers to work. A moment of curiosity crossed his mind, and he wasn’t sure who he was touching but he realized that it didn’t matter.

The girl under his left moved around, and her hand brought his to a breast and held it there as she changed position. He felt himself being mounted, and before long he heard lips smacking and he realized that the two women he was inside of were kissing, and they were rocking with the same rhythm. His free hand discovered that all four breasts were within reach, and played around teasing all four nipples.

The one on his hand hit her climax first, but the one on his penis wasn’t far behind. David relaxed and had his own release. They collapsed in a pile and had a brief moment to breathe, but shortly someone was kissing him and pulling him up to a kneeling position. Then someone else was kissing him much lower, and the little blue pill was doing its job admirably.

The one on his face moved around and then his back was being oiled, and peppered with little kisses. He hands were empty, so he reached out to try to touch someone and thought he found a smooth, sexy leg but it turned out to be his own. The girl on his back moved lower and lower and soon oily fingers were between his cheeks and spiraling around to tempt, to tease and finally to slip sensually inside him.

The finger (or fingers) found the right spot and he was almost there, but then it withdrew out of him and he missed its presence. However something else replaced it — was that a tongue? Being orally serviced at both ends was just too too pleasurable, and he couldn’t help but explode.

After another quick rest, they rearranged themselves and started up again. It went on for quite some time, a jumbled mishmash of confusing body parts, all stroking, fondling, penetrating, and being penetrated by each other. Eventually they all fell asleep in an interlocking naked human pretzel.

David woke up the next day at some time that felt like morning, he went into the bathroom. It was still dark, and they’d duct taped the light switch so he couldn’t turn it on. So it wouldn’t make a mess, he sat down to relieve himself then wiped off the seat. He was still oily. He groped around on the floor for a robe and then went downstairs to start breakfast. The clock in the kitchen told him that it was actually closer to lunchtime.

He wasn’t really sure how to react to what they’d done. It had been intense, and supposedly every guy’s dream, but in the light of day he felt a little guilty about it. And he wasn’t sure how he’d ever do any baking again when the scent of vanilla would now be triggering naughty, sexy thoughts.

He busied himself putting together a refreshing brunch. He checked in on the ladies, trying to see who was who from the little bit of light coming from the hall door. He kissed a shoulder and lightly whispered that there was food in the kitchen. Someone moaned and he left to set the table.

He heard the shower running, and the ladies came down about an hour later, all cleaned and dressed and made up pretty. He was embarrassed to still be in his robe. He took the frittata out of the oven to cool and they helped themselves to coffee and fruit salad. While the girls were eating, he snuck upstairs for a quick wash and a change of clothes. It was hard to do working blind.

He wondered how they were able to look so put together getting ready in the dark, and figured it was probably something models got good at, but then Amanda complimented David on how amazing Maritza’s closet was, and he remembered that she had a light switch in there, as well as one on her makeup table.

The women were acting like it was just another day and nothing unusual had taken place, so David didn’t find any opportunity to talk about what had happened. The only real thing out of the ordinary was that Maritza did a load of laundry to wash the sticky bedding and towels. Otherwise, she and Amanda just chatted all day, catching up on mutual friends and associates.

In the evening, they brought Amanda along for their usual swim in the pool. He imagined that his neighbors would be peeking out and wondering how he got to be such a stud, with a beautiful girl on each arm.

Back at the townhouse it was a repeat of the night before, starting with a shared shower to rinse off the chlorine. David was tense and nervous, so he asked to be medicated again. The rules were back in place: pitch dark, no talking, overwhelming aura of vanilla.

He seemed to be even more uninhibited the second time, occasionally even taking the initiative and moving someone into a better position for easier accessibility by his tongue or fingers or other. And he didn’t panic when he was nearly smothered a couple of times by one of them overenthusiastically grinding herself against his face.

They slept even later on Sunday. David wasn’t the first to wake up this time, and they shoved him into the shower. Amanda barely had time for lunch before she had to go check into her hotel. She gave each of them a deep, wet kiss goodbye and promised to let them know the next time she’d be in town.

When they were finally alone, David thanked his love for the present. It was incredible, and exhausting, and he didn’t regret the experience. But it was definitely not something he wanted to do regularly. She told him that was good, because she didn’t want to become a swinger. It was just fun to mix it up once in a while with someone who was safe and clean and familiar.

***

David’s publicist Nadine called him a few times during the month of January, to answer questions she’d taken from the press about what he thought he chances were to be nominated. But other than that, he didn’t think about it much. He didn’t have a very high opinion of his art, so he naturally assumed that plenty of other screenwriters would be getting the nod, and they wouldn’t need to scrape the bottle and name him, too.

One of the press inquiries was from none other than the annoying fashion commentator Jane Waters, who wanted to remind David of his promise to wear a gown at the ceremony if he was nominated. Nadine wanted to know what kind of answer to give her. David said that he would wait until after the nominations, and then plan his outfit accordingly. He hoped that answer would be boring enough that she’d leave him alone.

She didn’t. It seemed like she was aiming for some kind of controversy that would drive ratings up for her little bits on the entertainment news hour, because she kept bringing up how David was refusing to own up to her calling him out as just another Hollywood phony with no integrity. That she was able to call someone fake without any sense of irony was amazing chutzpah, but it was annoying David to no end.

Finally he got so tired of it that he had Nadine issue a statement. He bounced a couple ideas off of Claude, and this is what they came up with: “Out of respect for the other contenders, I would have preferred not to make a comment based on the assumption that I will be nominated. But I will assure you that should I be chosen, I will live up to my word and attend the ceremony in a gown. I do not wish to disrespect the Academy or make a mockery of the proceedings; if I do have to appear in a dress, I will do my best not to look like a joke.”

That did get her to shut up about it, but it forced him to make an even stronger commitment to potentially looking like a fool on national television. Claude tried to show David some sketches for possible gown styles, but he didn’t want to have to deal with it until after the nominations came out. He’d rather not worry about something that was only a possibility.

The last week in January, the Academy held its press conference to announce the nominations. David and Maritza were glued to the television to watch. One of the supporting actresses from Condensation was nominated, which seemed to be a good sign, but none of the rest of the cast was picked for a supporting actor or lead actress or actor nomination. But then the director was named, and things were looking up.

It felt like the listing of the names for Best Original Screenplay took forever, and then at last the Best Adapted Screenplay nominees were given. Three other screenwriters were named, and the odds weren’t looking good. But then they read David’s name as the fourth of the five writers chosen. Maritza threw her arms around him and gave him a deep, wet kiss in celebration that had the suggestion of shifting into full-on foreplay, but then the phone rang with more kudos from Nadine and he stepped into the kitchen to take the call.

She congratulated him on the nomination, and pointed out that it meant the publisher would be holding his next book back even more, in the hope that they could put “From the Oscar-winning writer of Condensation” on the back. It was a mixed blessing, but she was very excited. She asked him if he needed her to look for a way to get out of the promise to wear a gown. He had nearly completely put that out of his mind, so he had to take a moment. But he told her that he’d go through with it somehow, to show that he lived up to his word.

He heard Maritza cheering in the next room, and she said that his movie had been nominated for best picture, too. So he had to hang up and make some calls of his own to congratulate the director and producers. It made him a little uncomfortable talking about how great his screenplay was; he just didn’t have the right kind of ego for Hollywood. He got his obligations out of the way and was ready to relax, but then Claude called.

He started by congratulating David, but then quickly changed the topic to talking about the gown that he’d be wearing to the ceremony. He asked if David had any ideas about the kind of style he wanted, and threw out a lot of technical fashion terms that David just didn’t understand. He needed pictures. Claude said he’d throw some things together and then come by David’s townhouse after lunch.

David started to get suspicious when Claude showed up with an easel and a portfolio full of design boards to present his “thrown together” pictures. Clearly, he’d been working on this project for some time. His first board was a collage of magazine photos of actresses in gowns that had been chosen for previous Oscars’ Best Dressed lists. David looked it over and saw a lot of beautiful women. He couldn’t say what made them better dressed than others.

He did notice a couple things all the gowns seemed to have in common. “All those long skirts spill onto the ground. How do they walk in them without tripping?”

Maritza was looking over his shoulder at the pictures. “It’s not too hard; you just need to practice. There’s a technique to it. You’re going to have to learn to walk in heels anyway, so it’s not much more difficult.”

“Heels?”

This time Claude answered. “You’ve said you didn’t want to look foolish. The only way to avoid that is to properly accessorize your gown, and that means heels.”

Maritza smiled. “Besides, they’ll make your nice smooth legs look so much sexier!” She licked her lips.

David shook his head. “This is getting more complicated that I imagined.”

Claude flipped to the next board. “I figured we’d really stick it to that cow by putting you in the same color as last year, so here are some swatches of different fabrics in that color, to show how their different textures react to the light.” David nodded, so he continued to the next board. “And here are some sketches of different gowns that I’ve thought might work on your frame, to minimize your shortcomings.”

David looked at the sketches. “It looks like you’ve drawn them being worn by a woman. How would they hang differently on me?”

“Oh no, that’s how they’d look on you. With the right foundation you can look like that — pad you out here, squeeze you in there, strap you down over there. You should be able to look passably female.”

“But why? Can’t I just look like me in a gown?”

“You said that you didn’t want to look like a joke. A man in a dress is a joke. A feminine person that wears her gown with style and grace as a vision of beauty is no joke.”

Maritza gave him a squeeze on the shoulder. “And you could look very beautiful if you tried. I can’t wait to see you in your gown. You are already so soft and feminine in many ways; he’s only suggesting that you go a little further than you already have.”

David tensed up. “It kind of feels like you two are ganging up on me.” He got an uncomfortable thought that went straight to the pit of his stomach. He looked at Maritza. “Have you been in cahoots the whole time? Have all your encouragements to change my appearance been just to fit his plans to get me to accept wearing a dress for Oscar night? You’ve got me with long hair and smooth skin, and convinced me to wear earrings and nail polish — was this all part of some scheme to make me all feminine, like when you put my in panties?” He turned to Claude. “Are you trying to make me gay or something? Did you set this up with her from the beginning?”

Maritza came around to face him. “You look so frightened. I am so sorry if I scared you. I love you, and I have never done anything that I thought would hurt you. I do not know what a cahoot is, but I have talked to him about you, and kept some things secret.” She held her arms open and he fell into her embrace, sobbing softly. “He told me he was going to take you for a full laser hair removal, when all I asked you for was a chest wax, but I thought it would make you sexier so I didn’t tell you. And I do think that it made you very hot. You know I like to be with girls sometimes, and I’m not trying to change you into a girl for me. You are already a very feminine person, so sweet and caring and nurturing inside, that makes me love you more than if you tried to pretend to be a rough, macho man. You are a man with a lot of woman in him, and I don’t want you to get rid of all the man (some day I plan on having your babies), but there are fun things about being a woman that I think you could enjoy, too. It’s an awesome feeling when you can put on that perfect dress and killer shoes and get your hair done up all fancy, with flawless makeup and all the right bits of jewelry and accessories, and you go out there and knock them dead. I would love for you to get a chance to feel like that, and your promise to wear an evening gown to the awards is the perfect opportunity.” She kissed him and wiped his tears. “But if you don’t want to, I understand. We can say you were only joking, or we could stay home that night and let someone else pick up your award for you. Because you are definitely going to win!”

Claude took advantage of her coming up for air and David’s shock about the mention of babies to get his words in edgewise. “Okay, I’ll admit it. I’ve been working on this ever since last year. But every time I broached the subject you didn’t want to talk about it, so I just stopped talking about it and went ahead and made plans without your input. And yes, those plans involved getting the cooperation of other people, but I wouldn’t call it ‘cahoots’ as much as a mini-conspiracy. Or maybe a cabal would be better. That’s it: The David Fine Oscar Gown Cabal, or DFOGC. Anyway, you know me, and when I do something I like to give it my all. I was just as insulted as you were last year, so I want to put together a design that will stun that hag speechless. Does that make sense?”

David nodded and made a grunt of agreement, while still clinging to his girlfriend. He was still in a fragile state; Claude needed to tread lightly. “If you take a beautiful masterpiece of a painting and put it in the wrong frame, it can look horrible. It’s the same thing with fashion. If I’m trying to create the perfect gown to knock Jane Waters’ socks off, I need to make sure it’s being properly displayed. And since you are the frame for this particular masterpiece, I have been nudging you in a direction that would help you become a better frame for my painting, and away from anything that would hinder that. Like when you were trying to get in shape and I didn’t agree when you wanted to lift weights; I didn’t think added muscle mass would look good in a gown. But I truly do love you as a friend and I’ve never suggested anything that I didn’t think was in your best interests. I knew your girlfriend had lesbian leanings, so they wouldn’t likely be any problem if I helped you to a more feminine look.”

“So you are trying to make me gay so you can have your way with me or something?” David blushed as he realized how ridiculous the question sounded.

Claude took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I am a homosexual man, which means I am attracted to men. You’ve seen my boyfriends. I like them big and buff and masculine. If I were interested in you, the last thing I would do would be to try to bring out your femininity. Now I’m sure you know there’s a segment of the gay community that’s into drag, but I’ve never really seen the attraction. I’ll admit I tried it briefly in my early twenties, but that’s sort of a requirement when you’re a swishy gay boy into fashion and trying to find yourself. Do you get that you can be feminine without being gay, and gay without being feminine?”

“I guess so.”

“Alright, then. So tell me how far you want to take this? Do you want Jane Waters to ask herself ‘who is that gorgeous creature coming down the red carpet?’ only to be forced to eat her own words?”

“Do you really think I could be gorgeous? I’ve seen some of those guys in dresses, and they look hideous.”

Claude reached somewhere in the back of his stack of boards, and pulled out one that was a collection of images of beautiful models. “You could probably look something like this if you worked at it.”

“No way! Those women are naturally attractive. I could not possibly compete with that.”

“Well, all these so-called women are men, or at least were once. These over here are women now, with the surgery and everything.” He pointed at a sexy Asian in a bikini. “Her wedding was a major media event in Korea. These over on this side only dress as women professionally as entertainment, but live as men offstage. This one’s married with three kids.” He pointed at a blonde in a cocktail dress.

David looked at the pictures and still couldn’t believe it. “Those are guys? Really? But I still don’t think I’d look that good.”

“If you could look that good, would you be willing to do it?”

“I guess, if I’m committed to wearing a gown to the ceremony, I’d rather look pretty that look silly.”

“Well then it’s a good thing for you I have my cabal. Whatever those initials were that I gave, I put together a group of people from a variety of disciplines. They took a couple pictures that I cahooted Ritz to sneak of you, and applied their skills to it on the computer, and came up with this.” He pulled another board out of his case that was twice as big. It had a large photo of a sexy brunette in a glamorous red dress. “What do you think?”

David thought it must have taken a lot of editing to get there. The woman in the picture seemed familiar, like she could have been a distant relative, but he didn’t think it looked like him very much. “Wow. They sure did a lot of editing to get that. I can’t imagine there’s anything left of the original if it was a picture of me.”

Maritza’s eyes were wide. “Ooh, you’ve got to let them make you look like that. You are so beautiful! Those are definitely your eyes; I’d know them anywhere. And you can tell those are your hands by the little bump on her finger that you’ve got from writing by hand. Why did I never notice your hands were so delicate? And the shoes might not be yours, but under the shiny polish those are your toes. I like the way the middle ones bend.”

“You think so? I’m just not seeing it.”

Claude was prepared for that, and pulled out a board with a smaller version of the lady in the red dress, next to a picture of David standing in the same pose in shorts, sandals and a tank top. Looking at them side by side, he could see the similarities. It’s quite possible the woman on the right was only a few slight differences apart from makeup and wardrobe.

However, some differences were more noticeable than others. “Just like a lot of those previous ‘best dressed’ actresses, the woman in this picture is showing a good amount of cleavage. Now if that’s supposed to be me, I don’t really see how.”

“We told you before that accessories were the key to any outfit? The gown designs that would have the biggest impact would be best accessorized with silicone.”

David fell back into his chair as the lights went out.