The echo of steps in the staircase made Loren glance up from the table he was clearing.
"Looks like you'll be going down a few levels today, sir," he observed with a ready smile.
The smartly dressed gentleman laughed and struck a nonchalant pose at the bottom of the stairs.
"Is it really that obvious? Yes indeed, I thought I'd go exploring the two lowest levels at last. Just realized yesterday that I haven't been any lower than the Third ever since I arrived!"
"They're definitely worth visiting," Loren agreed and stacked used plates on a tray, then gave the man an assessing glance. "And it looks to me that you'll blend in just perfectly – but please make sure you have your keys!"
"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten!" The man pulled some keys from his pocket and showed them to Loren. "This one for my room, this for the front door, this for the gate... though I can't help wondering what mysterious things will be taking place here today? I mean, you haven't locked the gate on the previous two Mondays, or does my memory now fail me completely?"
"You're quite right, sir, we haven't," Loren said. "However, today we're going to have some artists over and – uh, let's just say that we don't want just anybody strolling into the garden while they're here."
"Artists?" The gentleman arched an eyebrow. "Now you have me completely intrigued! What nefarious things will the artists be doing in your garden? Having an extremely wild party?"
"A party, yes, but not like the one you're probably thinking about!" Loren grinned. "They'll just be doing what artists do, and we're locking the gate simply to protect the innocent."
"My dear Loren, I still don't think I'm altogether convinced that you aren't planning to have bacchanal here, or worse!"
"Sir, just picture this," Loren said. "Some unwary person walks past, doesn't know or remember that Rose is closed on Mondays, and decides to drop in. They come in through the gate, reach the front door, observe that the place isn't open, then catch a glimpse of maybe two dozen people in the garden. Most probably they would come closer to inquire – and walk in on at least one very scantily dressed individual lounging in full view."
"Oh my!"
"Exactly, sir." Loren nodded. "We don't want to scandalize occasional passers-by, hence the locked gate."
"I do understand the need for caution," the man said, then winked. "However, now I'm asking myself if it was, after all, such a good idea to pick exactly today to go all the way down to the seaside. Not that I'd be capable of any artistic feats beyond stick figures, but I could always just sit unobtrusively in some corner and, say, read a book?"
"I don't think anyone would greatly object to your presence, sir," Loren chuckled, "but perhaps I ought to be more specific: we're talking about scantily clad male individuals."
"Male?" The guest blinked. "I always thought artists liked to paint nude women!"
"Oh, they do, very much," Loren assured him, "but their interest is not limited to only women. I've been told many times that the biggest challenge is the human figure in general. Besides, for some strange reason male models seem to be much harder to come by than females, which is why the artists I know like to take the opportunity when it arises."
"Somehow I'd have imagined that it would be the other way round," the gentleman mused, then shrugged. "The things one learns! Well, I was only joking – of course I understand that it's not some private show, be the model male or female... So, have a nice day, I think I'll be off now before the sun rises too high."
"Enjoy your day, sir!"
The happily whistling gentleman left, not forgetting to stop at the mirror by the entrance to make sure his straw hat was tilted in just the right way. Arjan emerged from the kitchen in time to see him walk briskly past the patio.
"Hey, come on, let me..." He elbowed Loren away from the table and took the tray. "You'd better go and get ready, all three rooms have already had their breakfast."
"Yes, but the people in No. 4 haven't left yet." Loren decided not to fight his partner for the used crockery. "Though, what kind of 'getting ready' do I need? I can't very well get any readier than I am already, unless you want me to welcome the guys wearing nothing but my birthday suit!"
Arjan laughed. "No, I didn't mean that! But I'm sure that the first ones will start arriving pretty soon anyway."
"We told them not to come before eleven," Loren reminded him. "Besides, we can't start before all our guests are out of the way. I wouldn't want to shock the lady, she's so nice."
"Me neither. Well, I'll take care of these first!" Arjan headed to the kitchen with his tray. "Oh yes, what time did you tell Timon to be here for the rooms?"
"Around noon, that's time enough."
Loren lingered in the empty restaurant until Arjan returned to shoo him away. The place was clean, they'd cleared away the last traces of breakfast. Arjan would stay here and make sure that all of their hotel guests had the necessary keys with them for the day, and no, there really was no need for Loren to hang around, now that their own day-off was awaiting. Thus he just heaved a resigned sigh and shuffled to their own side of the house.
Some time later Arjan did the same, closed the kitchen door behind him and stopped to listen. The place was suspiciously quiet, and he peered questioningly into the downstairs room in search of his blond partner.
His face brightened by several shades when he found a shirtless Loren, standing in front of a mirror and frowning at the image reflected from it.
"Everybody's gone now," he declared. "And I see you're getting ready, too! I'll go get my things from upstairs."
"Okay, but tell me first if I'm imagining or is there really something extra here?"
"Extra?" Arjan came closer, staring at Loren's midsection. "Nooo... I wouldn't say so... maybe just a little, but –"
"Damnit!" Loren growled. "You know what this means? We'll have to start getting more exercise! These days we're mostly just lounging during the breaks, and that's not good."
"Hey, hey, take a breath!" Arjan went closer and hugged the blond from behind. "Basically you're right, I'm sure it wouldn't do us any harm to go out more and have a bit of fresh air – but honestly, that tiny little hint of a tummy is nothing to panic about! You're drop dead gorgeous and sexy and whatnot, and please stop pouting like that because you just make me want to prove it to you right now but I can't do that because the guys will be here any time now and..."
"I don't want to start looking like the typical innkeeper," Loren grumbled, tilting his head back to rub it against Arjan's shoulder.
"You won't." Arjan kissed the bend of Loren's neck. "We'll make sure of that. Though I'm pretty dismayed to observe that apparently we're not having enough sex after all, if we still need more exercise on top of that."
"Idiot," Loren chuckled, already looking a lot less gloomy. "Go get your damn stuff, I'm sure you're right and there's probably a queue forming outside the doors just about now. If no one else, at least Karos is going to be there and do his best to get in a lot earlier than we told him to come."
"Dad's merely greedy, just like me," Arjan said and reluctantly let go of Loren. "Okay, I'll be upstairs for a while."
"I think I'll go wait on the patio."
Minutes ticked past, and the two young men were astonished to observe that apparently the artists had for once decided to prove themselves capable of restraint. Around twenty to eleven a squeal of the gate's hinges alerted them, and the laughter and talk following it heralded the arrival of their guests. Moments later the people themselves emerged from behind the corner, heavily armed with bags, briefcases, collapsible easels, carrier bags, and other paraphernalia.
"Ah, and here they are already! Our generous and delightful hosts!"
"Thank you for the flattery," Loren sent back, "but I do hope you all remember that we didn't promise any refreshments on the house because there's nobody to make them?"
"Ooh, what do you take us for? See here!"
Two of the artists waved between them an enormous hamper, then placed it on the ground and dried their faces.
"What's that?" Arjan asked.
"This? Surely you haven't forgotten, dear boy, that it's always been customary on sketching parties to bring along enough stuff for a real party? And that's what this is!"
Arjan laughed, then looked around, eyebrows climbing towards hairline. "Oh my... there seem to be very few late sleepers in Saygorr today!"
"Who in their right minds would want to miss a single minute when there's such a treat awaiting?" Trion, a tall blond man with an immaculate goatee, snorted at the mere thought. "Getting to work outside with a male nude model, now that's a rare treat!"
"Absolutely!" The man next to him looked positively rapturous. "Something to only dream of..."
"Especially since his latest pretty boy snagged a rich lover and left him," Arjan murmured into Loren's ear. Loren sank his teeth into his lower lip to keep a straight face and elbowed Arjan in the stomach.
"Now, now, let's not wax too poetic, okay?" he tried.
"Loren, my dear, you just don't get it – this is going to be a sketching party to beat all others," Karos declared solemnly. "It befits the occasion perfectly to wax poetic! Now, my friends, shall we proceed to invade the garden?"
The noisy group did just that, debating with each other on the relative merits of different backgrounds and the poses in which each of them wanted to see their model during the day. Said model lingered behind with Arjan to wait for possible late arrivals, listening to the happy chattering.
"What have we got ourselves into?" Arjan shook his head, but he was smiling nevertheless.
"The most reasonable arrangement I can think of," Loren said. "They're all well aware that we're making quite a concession here, letting them hog most of our day-off. And if they try to forget that, we have something to dangle over their heads when they next start pestering me about modeling for someone."
"You're right, of course... Besides, this is going to be so much fun – hello, Devin!"
"Am I late?" The small, freckled man was thoroughly out of breath. "Oh, thank goodness I even got here! Of course the damn prima donna insisted on being cranky exactly today of all days..."
"You haven't missed anything yet," Arjan consoled him. "We're just waiting here to lock the gate when everybody's here."
"Good, good..." Devin hurried past them and disappeared behind the bushes.
Everybody agreed that it was an altogether wonderful day: the weather dry and warm, the wind a mere breeze, and Loren simply phenomenal. Loren himself was amused by all the praise, as well as somewhat surprised at how easy he found the whole situation. Such a crowd was a complete novelty to him. Before this he'd only modeled for Arjan, Karos, and two of their older friends, never more than four people at the same time, but still he felt no awkwardness at stepping naked in front of all those scrutinizing eyes.
The artists sure knew to appreciate his relaxed attitude, and made sure to tell him so. Sketches were emerging at a steady rate, until the almost devout silence was broken by hesitant steps on the gravel walk and a quiet 'oh'. Loren slit an eye open and noticed the very round eyes of Timon, Dinn's younger brother, whom they'd employed to help with cleaning the rooms. The boy was standing next to a voluptuous rose bush, gaping at him.
"Behold the scene of depravity," Loren said with a little grin, then tried to settle his bare butt a little more comfortably on the large stone he was sprawled on. "Tim, let this be a lesson to you: stay away from the artists. They're a crazy lot."
A few of the artists turned to look and Timon nodded, a bright blush rising on his face.
"That looks rather fascinating, though," he added shyly.
"Oh oh oh, careful now, pretty boy!" Arjan shook a brush. "Remember, this crazy lot can hear you!"
More heads began to turn and Timon beat a hasty retreat. Arjan smirked to himself as he turned back to his sketch, then happened to glance at the clock.
"Hey," he said, eyes going wide, "what would you people say about a lunch break?"
"I'd say it's a damn good idea," Loren called from his rock. "I guess I'm so far away from you all that you haven't been able to hear how my stomach's been growling for a while already."
"Just a little bit more, I want to finish this..."
"Mine's ready in a couple of minutes," Karos declared. "I think I'll go to The Honey Pot, the rest of you can finalize your sketches in the meantime. But don't make him keep that pose for much longer, I don't think that stone is too comfortable!"
"Wait for me," Trion said, gaze not moving from his own work. "I'll be finished soon as well, we can go together. Those large pots aren't exactly lightweight..."
When the two men had vanished on their important trip, Loren gave the others another fifteen minutes and then crawled unceremoniously off the slab of stone and hid his nakedness inside an old shirt and loose pants. This forced also the others to let go of their charcoals and pastels enough to lay out the rest of the picnic lunch, and by the time the two men returned with an enormous pot of steaming stew, everything was ready.
The highly welcome meal was washed down with several bottles of wine, but instead of the more usual lingering over the last pieces of fruit and bread, the artists soon began to get fidgety once more. Amused, Loren watched them for a while and then decided to have mercy on them.
"All right, all right," he said and began to unbutton the shirt with a mischievous smile, "I get the hint! What do you want now? Standing, sitting, kneeling, hanging from a tree, standing on my head..."
Eventually dusk was falling, and more than one of the artists began to look around and declare in dismay that it was definitely getting too humid to go on. Others nodded, some sighed. Papers were shuffled together and slipped into folders and briefcases. Drawing equipment was lovingly collected into cases and satchels. Easels were folded together, scattered jackets and scarves picked up and dusted, and with a general air of contentment the artists drifted away amid enthusiastic thanks, like a flock of sated birds leaving a field of ripe corn.
Outside the gazebo, Loren pulled on the shirt once more with a grateful little shudder and toed his feet into a worn pair of sandals. Arjan collected all his papers into one stack, looking very pleased with its size, then glanced at his partner.
"Are you cold?" he asked, instantly worried.
"Not really. I'll be just fine." Loren came closer and looked at the topmost drawing. "Whoa, that's not me!"
"Yes it is," Arjan said and hugged him.
"Is not. That guy looks far better than I do."
"That's something you shouldn't argue with me!" Arjan pulled the blond closer and kissed him. "You were totally great today, did you know that?"
"I'm not sure if I should believe that," Loren said. "I've heard it so many times today that I might get conceited if I believe even half of what you're all saying."
"Oh, just believe it. I trust in your incorruptible nature." Arjan winked, then grabbed all his stuff from the table. "Now, what would you want for dinner? I'll make it."
"How about a cheese and ham and mushroom omelet? With onions?"
Arjan tilted his head with a distrustful frown. "Is that what you really want, or do you just say so because you know that I'm not really that good with much else except omelets and sausages?"
Loren laughed. "Does it really matter? You know that I love your omelets."
"Good point," Arjan nodded and took Loren's hand. "So, let's go! I could use a pot of hot tea."
