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felt connected to him, as if he'd known him all his life. There were no awkward pauses between sentences and there wasn't a single lull in conversation. The two hours they spent talking went by so fast Marco couldn't believe he'd finished his meal and it was time to leave.
    On the way out to the car, Marco insisted on dropping Yves off at his hotel in the East Village. Yves protested at first, but Marco wouldn't take no for an answer. When the driver pulled up to the front of the hotel and Marco saw the broken neon sign out front and a group of rough-looking vagrants lurking near the entrance, he took a quick breath and sighed.
    "Look,” Marco said. “Why don't you go up and get your things?” He couldn't let him go back to that hotel. “We have a room no one uses. You can stay there and work for me until you figure out what you want to do with your life. Jane Francis has been overworked for years, and I've been thinking about hiring another assistant for a long time."
    Yves frowned. “I couldn't,” he said. “I'd feel as if I'm taking advantage of you. I really didn't come back to see you tonight looking for handouts of any kind. I'm sure there are already enough people who only want to take advantage of you. I don't want to be one of them."
    "But don't you see?” Marco said. “This is why I need you so much. You're right. There are too many people looking to take advantage of me. I need you around for that reason. You're not taking advantage of me. I'm taking advantage of you.” Marco had always believed it was important to help other gay men when they had no one else around, especially young gay men like Yves who were struggling so hard to make it on their own.
    "You're sure about this?” Yves said.
    "I'm sure,” Marco said. “Now go up and get your things. I'll wait here."
    Yves was back in the car in less than fifteen minutes. He didn't have much. Everything he owned in the world fit into two medium-sized canvas suitcases. When the car pulled up to Marco's penthouse at One Beekman Place and dropped them off, Marco led him up to the penthouse and told him to be quiet. Marco said Jane Francis was probably already in bed and he didn't want to wake her. Her room was on the other side of the penthouse, near the kitchen, but she was a light sleeper. Marco said there were other guest rooms in the penthouse, but he and Frazier had out-of-town guests all the time and he had to keep them free.
    So he brought Yves to a small room off the master bedroom that had a daybed and two small French tables with green marble tops. There was a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall across from the bed, and a desk with a stack of books.
    "I know it's small,” Marco said. “But it's all I have right now. And it's probably better because you'll be closer to my office. I use the library as an office and it's next door to this room."
    Yves put his bags down next to the daybed and smiled. “Oh, Mr. Denny,” he said. “This is perfect. It's not too small at all. I think it's wonderful. It's the nicest room I've ever seen."
    "Enough with that Mr. Denny nonsense,” Marco said. “Call me Marco. I like things to be informal when I'm working closely with people."
    "Yes,” Yves said. “Marco."
    "I'll let you get settled,” Marco said. “I'm tired. I'm going to read a little and then go to bed.” On his way out of the room, he turned back and said, “Just two things you should know."
    "What's that?"
    "I sleep late,” Marco said, “So no phone calls or anything before ten. And we'll have to share the bathroom for now. This room used to be a dressing room, but I decided to turn it into a small lounge with a daybed. The bathroom adjoins the master bedroom. There are two doors, so always knock first."
    "Yes,” Yves said. “No disruptions before ten, and always knock on the bathroom door."
    Marco smiled. “I'll see you in the morning. Have a good night.” He liked the way Yves caught on so fast. He had a feeling this was going to work