Metamorphosis Read online

  Metamorphosis

  Book Five of the Amusing Amanda series

  D.J. Manly

  Published 2007

  ISBN 978-1-59578-408-7

  Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2007, D.J. Manly. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Liquid Silver Books

  http://LSbooks.com

  Email:

  [email protected]

  Editor

  Jean Cooper

  Cover Artist

  April Martinez

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  Amanda offered to personally drive him back to the Agency, which had caught Ramsay by surprise. Usually, her chauffeur did all the driving.

  This morning, few words passed between them. He had brought up the subject of his leaving a few times last week. She hadn’t said too much. She’d merely nodded at him. Last night, he walked out onto the patio where she was sitting by the pool, took a deep breath, and announced that the time had come.

  The Los Angeles sky was threatening rain. He tried to focus on the clouds overhead as Amanda got behind the wheel and steered the small foreign coup out of the driveway. He wondered if Hunter was standing in the window. He told himself he didn’t care if he was or not. Something akin to a knot settled in his throat and remained there. He laid his head back against the neck rest and closed his eyes. Hunter hadn’t even come down to say goodbye to him this morning, and he’d been unusually cool to him the past few days.

  “Are you all right, Ramsay?” Amanda asked him suddenly, taking her eyes off the road for a moment to glance at him.

  “Sure,” he replied, his voice sounding superficial, even to his own ears. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

  “You’re quiet, that’s all.”

  “You’re not angry with me, are you?”

  “Why should I be angry? You fulfilled your end of the bargain. I’m more … ah … concerned, I guess.”

  “Concerned?”

  Amanda stopped the vehicle at a light. “What is it exactly you’re looking for? I’m not clear on that.”

  The question caught him off guard. He tried to put together an answer in his head, but before he could, Amanda began speaking again.

  “And I never did understand what it was between you and Hunter.” The light changed. They were moving again. “At first, I thought you were afraid of him because he’d hurt you somehow, but…”

  “He’s never hurt me,” Ramsay protested. “Hunter may look tough, but he’s a pussy cat underneath all that macho stuff.” He laughed, a laugh teetering on a sob. He turned his head to the window and quickly brushed at his cheek to hide the sudden rolling tear.

  “You did know each other before.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “One you don’t want to talk about.”

  “History,” he grunted. “I never had much use for it, even in school.” He attempted a faint laugh. “Will you get a replacement?”

  “I don’t know. That’s up to Hunter. Maybe he’d like some variety instead of the same guy all the time.”

  He regretted the question. “Do you really intend on introducing him to high society?”

  “Yes. Why? Don’t you think that’s a good idea?”

  “Hunter is … well … rough trade all the way. He’d find those people plastic.”

  “They are plastic.”

  “It would be only to spite his father.”

  “And bloody worth it,” Amanda said adamantly. “And Ramsay, you never answered my question.”

  “What was it again?”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I know Hunter thinks I’m a fool,” he blurted out suddenly. “He doesn’t believe I’ll ever find that client who will give me the life I dream about.”

  “Well, I suppose you can fall in love with a rich man the same as you can a poor one.”

  Ramsay decided not to comment. Fall in love? Love had absolutely nothing to do with it. He’d grown up in abject poverty. He’d dreamed of living a life of security and luxury. He’d witnessed first hand the lifestyles of some of his wealthy clients, and he wanted to live like that. He was waiting for the day one of those clients would offer to share that life with him. To hell with love … at least the passionate kind … there were many different kinds of love.

  When Jacques’ house came into view, Ramsay sucked in some breath. This was it. He was home, the only home he’d known after the streets. He reached behind him and grabbed his suitcase. “You don’t have to come in,” he told Amanda, feeling anxious all of a sudden.

  She reached out and touched his pale blond hair. “You take care of yourself, Ramsay. I’ll miss you.”

  He smiled and then leaned over to kiss her perfumed cheek. “Me, too,” he told her, and scrambled out of the car.

  * * * *

  Amanda watched Ramsay walk up the path to the front door. She’d called Jacques last night to tell him Ramsay was coming back. “I’d expected as much,” he’d said. “Ramsay is still waiting for his Prince Charming.”

  Amanda leaned back and closed her eyes. She’d felt especially protective of Ramsay these last few days. He seemed fragile. She hadn’t even asked him to have sex with Hunter. She knew he was somehow silently grateful for that, although she wasn’t sure why. As for Hunter, well, he’d been really into himself lately, hardly acknowledging Ramsay’s presence the last few days. This morning, he hadn’t even bothered to get out of bed to say goodbye.

  Ever since Ramsay and Hunter had come to her three months ago, she’d been trying to figure out what their prior relationship had been, but it had remained a mystery. They both came from the Agency, and although they didn’t seem to be friends, they certainly weren’t strangers either. Ramsay seemed skittish where Hunter was concerned, and Hunter was often impatient with Ramsay, passing remarks which seemed uncalled for.

  Amanda started the engine. She’d call Jacques later on. She wasn’t sure if she wanted a replacement for Ramsay. Perhaps she’d wait a little while. The last few weeks had been rather hectic. Scott had gone into therapy, and according to the brief reports she’d received from Ciel, it was hell. And she’d been really worked up over Hunter’s father lately. Her own father had been a cold son-of-a-bitch, but at least he’d never gone to the point of refusing to acknowledge his own children. She wasn’t intending to let Senator Frank Delany get away with it.

  It was almost noon. She hated driving. The traffic was getting worse as she drove toward home. She thought about stopping by to see Scott and Ciel, but changed her mind. She promised herself she wouldn’t interfere. She’d agreed to pay for Scott’s therapy, without asking anything in return. She’d stay away until she received an invitation.

  * * * *

  Hunter sat watching his estranged father on the television. He’d been in front of the cameras a lot lately. The press was saying that he could be a candidate for president. Today, he was speaking about why he’d decided not to back the gay rights initiative. No surprise there. He turned off the set and walked outside. For a moment, he stood staring down into the swimming pool. “Going to drown yourself, loser?” he said aloud, then recklessly raked a hand through his dark hair.

  It was ironic really. If not for Ramsay, he wou
ldn’t even be here. When he’d first come to America looking for his father, he’d been given temporary lodgings in one of his father’s associates’ condos, with the understanding that he’d disappear soon. This associate had used the services of the Agency, and one night, Hunter found the phone number and called. Ramsay showed up at his door. The attraction between them had been electric and immediate, that is, until Ramsay found out that he was just some poor reject living on borrowed time. Then everything changed. After Hunter’s father told him he was on his own, Ramsay took him to the Agency, then suddenly acted as if he barely knew him. Ramsay was looking for a sugar daddy, and Hunter just didn’t qualify on any level.

  When Amanda requested that both of them come to stay here together, Hunter knew Ramsay hadn’t abandoned his stupid ideas. He’d just put them on hold for a while. Now he was gone. Hunter couldn’t help wondering if Ramsay would ever find what he was looking for.

  As for living here with Amanda, it wasn’t bad. Amanda was a fascinating woman. She had more money than anyone deserved to have, and her money allowed her to indulge all her whims and fetishes. She enjoyed watching men have sex, and she had no qualms about paying well for that privilege. She knew exactly what she wanted, exactly what turned her on, and she didn’t give a damn who disapproved. Hunter couldn’t help admiring that.

  Now Amanda seemed hell-bent on plotting vengeance against his father by making him over for high society, and initially, he’d been enthusiastic about that. Lately, however, little doubts were beginning to settle in, and he wasn’t sure if it was worth all the anguish. His father had another family. Did he really want to ruin their lives? None of this was their fault. They didn’t even know he existed. Maybe it was better to leave well enough alone. It was true his father had been cruel to him, and Hunter had been bitter about that, but revenge wasn’t going to change anything. He had to face the fact that his father was never going to accept a gay son with Jamaican blood, no matter how well he could preen to high society.

  He was content to stay with Amanda for a while, though, content to separate himself from Ramsay, who had damn near broken his heart. Yes, he loved Ramsay, damn fool that he was, and he’d clung to the idea that Ramsay loved him, too, and that eventually he’d come to his senses. It hadn’t happened. Ramsay hadn’t suddenly run into his arms and declared his undying love for him, and it looked fairly certain that he was never going to.

  Hunter settled back into one of the comfortable lounge chairs. He wondered if he’d eventually become another Scott. Scott had been Amanda’s first. After the death of her rich husband, she’d brought Scott home from the Agency, and he’d become her companion, amusing her with a variety of men, until Ciel came along. On a quest to find the most beautiful man, she’d found Ciel in Europe. She brought him back to America for Scott. She’d never imagined that Ciel would take Scott away from her. They’d fallen in love, but Scott was damaged goods. He’d been shifted from one foster home to another, and it seemed he didn’t believe himself worthy of love, not even Ciel’s love. Now, after a brief separation, Scott and Ciel were back together again. Scott was finally in therapy, the expensive kind that Amanda volunteered to pay for. He hoped it worked out for them. When Scott had separated briefly with Ciel a short time ago, he’d come back to Amanda’s. Hunter had gotten to know him a little. He liked Scott. And although he’d only met Ciel briefly, he seemed to be a nice guy … not to mention drop-dead gorgeous.

  After Scott left Amanda for Ciel a few years back, there had been others. Chase, too, had been on the streets, having run away from home after his stepfather tried to sexually molest him. Chase and another guy called Cassidy had come here together. Although Hunter didn’t know all the details, Cassidy apparently was shot and killed by his boyfriend, who’d had a serious drug problem. After Cassidy’s death, Chase fell into a depression and stayed with Amanda for a while. Amanda’s half-brother Jordon came for a visit after the death of their father, and Chase fell in love with him. Chase and Jordon now lived together in New York.

  Poor Amanda. She seemed destined to lose all those she held dear. Hunter couldn’t help wonder why Amanda collected all these wounded gay men. Perhaps she didn’t realize how much personal baggage they carried when she invited them into her home, or maybe they were exactly who she wanted them to be.

  Hunter sighed and felt himself drifting off. Yes. He would stay here for a while, lick his wounds, and when he felt stronger, he would move on. Gradually he would learn to accept the fact that he and Ramsay were never going to be together.

  * * * *

  When Amanda walked out onto the patio, she smiled. Hunter had fallen asleep in the lounge chair. She moved closer and smoothed back some of his soft, dark hair. She felt a little melancholy. She knew it had something to do with losing Ramsay. It was strange. She felt as if she’d never known him, not really. He hid so much of himself. It was true that Hunter was no big communicator either, but he’d opened up to her a great deal lately, especially about his father. Somehow the whole messy subject had brought them closer.

  Hunter’s dark eyes blinked open suddenly. He issued her one of those famous smirks of his. “Well, woman, what’s the news?”

  She was quite used to him now calling her “woman.” At first, it had irked her a bit. She’d since realized that coming from Hunter, it was a sign of affection and wasn’t meant in any derogatory sense. She pulled a chair closer to him and sat down. “Ramsay got home safe and sound. I drove him myself.”

  “I meant, what’s the news on Scott?”

  “Oh.” She met his eyes, noticing the sharp tone to his voice. “I see.”

  He smiled faintly, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “Is it that painful?”

  “Painful?” He looked surprised. “What ‘cha talking painful, woman?”

  Sometimes his Jamaican accent seemed especially pronounced. “You couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye to him.”

  “I value my sleep.” He looked away.

  “If you’d tell me about it, then I could…”

  “Could what?” He looked at her again. “Pat my shoulder, tell me it’s going to be all right?”

  She sighed softly. “Hunter.”

  “Just empty words designed to make you feel better, but they don’t change anything. They don’t help a hell of a lot, even if the intentions are good. What ‘cha need to know for?”

  “I never really knew him.”

  “That’s the way he likes it.”

  “I don’t want it to be that way with us.”

  “It won’t be.”

  She smiled. “If you ever want to talk to someone about it … I’m here. It’s not good to keep things bottled up inside.”

  “I talked to Scott about it already.”

  She lifted an eyebrow.

  “It’s nothing against you, Amanda. It’s just that Scott was almost as miserable as me when he left that man of his. Misery loves company, you know?”

  “Hunter, Ramsay is…” she began.

  “Amanda.” He put up a hand. “Please, I’d really like it if we could talk about something else. Okay?”

  “Okay, I need to call some people. I’ve been thinking. We’ll need a whole new wardrobe, dancing lessons and…”

  “Can we hold off on the makeover?” He laughed.

  “We have to be ready by September,” she protested.

  He pursed his lips. “Is it really that important?”

  She sucked in some breath. “You’ve changed your mind?”

  “No, I haven’t changed my mind exactly, but I need to think about this a while. When I said I’d do this, my emotions were … well, I wasn’t thinking things through. Why do you want to go back into that scene again, Mandy? You told me you despised those rich folks.”

  “I do. All my life I watched those people, moved among them. I saw the hypocrisy, most of them a bunch of self-righteous bigots who criticize others, then do worse themselves.”

  “Then you want to use
me to get your revenge, is that it?” There was a twinkle in his brown eyes.

  “No, Hunter. I…”

  He laughed, reaching for her hand. “I’m teasing. I know there’s a little of that in it because of your own father. That’s what gets you all steamed up. But I also know you think my old man needs a whipping because he hurt me. You care about me, and I can’t help but feel touched by that.”

  “It’s worth it, if we make him feel ill at ease for even a minute.”

  “Only a minute?” He laughed. “Look, my father is not going to suddenly develop a conscience where I’m concerned. I know that.”

  She fell silent.

  “Look,” he released her hand, “I didn’t say no. I just don’t want to go off half-cocked. I need to think this through.”

  “Okay. I won’t push you. We’ll go ahead when and if you’re ready.”

  He nodded.

  “Now.” She brightened. “We need to decide about men.”

  “Men.” His eyes twinkled. “I have no objection to the discussion of men. Anything you want, Mandy.”

  “I want you to want, too. It’s not just me. If you don’t find them hot, then it will be a yawn-fest for me.”

  He laughed. “We can’t have that. Bring me the menu.”

  She giggled. “Okay, baby.” She reached over and kissed his cheek. “Let’s go for dinner tonight, and by Saturday, I’ll have something nice for us. I’ll call Jacques and get him to send over something delicious.”

  “Sounds good.” He winked, relaxing back into the chair.

  Amanda stood up. “I’m going to take these heels off, maybe take a swim.”

  “Um,” he murmured, looking as if he was ready to fall asleep again.

  * * * *

  A few minutes after Amanda had slipped into the pool, the maid came outside with the phone in her hand. “Ms. Amanda,” she called out. “A phone call for you.”

  “Take a message,” she replied, floating on her back.

  “It’s Mr. Scott, and you said if…”

  “Scott? Okay, tell him to hold the line.” She waded over to the side of the pool and crawled out. The maid handed her a towel and the phone.