Charlotte's friends come to the beach house. Sex Images

Closed project provides fun and a lucritive future.

ed for the eternal fires of hell?

His reverie was interrupted by a low cough from the door way. Tom looked up to see the young cleaner, Antonio, even as he hit the minimise button on the computer. H e never actually turned the volume up anyway; always certain that someone in the neighboring office would overhear the loud cries of ecstasy and mistake them for his own. He fumbled about; toppling the pens in the ceramic cup that his oldest daughter had made him for Father's Day last year. He was more nervous than he had ever been; he did not know how long the man had stood in the doorway before clearing his throat. This was the closest that Tom had come to discovery and he was mortified.

Stammering in embarrassment, he began, 'I'll be out of your way in a minute. I just need to shut down my computer and the office is all yours.' He finished with a weak smile then, hoping it covered his nervousness.

Antonio nodded, but made no effort to leave the room as Tom had hoped he might. Instead he simply stepped inside the organised office with its neat rows of filing cabinets against one wall, a couch and table against another, and Tom's desk facing the window with its view of the downtown sky and planes on their final descent; just as he was perhaps on his final descent into the depravity he had fought almost his whole life.

The young man fingered the statue of St Thomas of Aquinas that his mother had given him upon his confirmation into the faith: his patron saint and his four cardinal virtues of prudence, temperance, justice, and fortitude. Then slowly he picked up the picture of Tom's family that had been taken just before Christmas; the smiling faces of his wife and children. His own face too wore a smile, but it did not reach his blue-grey eyes that were clouded with an invisible weight.

'Your family? They are very nice,' the younger man asserted in his accented English.

Tom thought it funny that he had never really noticed this person that had for over a year skirted the edges of his world. Other than of course the customary Christmas basket of wine and cheese that was obligatory to all of his customers and contractors. He was small framed with olive skin that bespoke his Latino heritage as much as his accent. His hair was wavy and a dark brown, but he had dyed the ends a white-blonde. He wore a diamond stud in one ear that glinted a bit in the bright fluorescent lights of the office.

Tom merely nodded nervously as he pretended to straighten papers on his desk. He cursed his ancient computer that took too long to shut down, but he was determined to make certain that it was completely powered down and his secret safe before making his escape.

The man looked over at him once again as if considering something. 'I was like you,' he began before turning back towards the picture. 'I spent my whole life trying not to be this way...afraid and ashamed because of the church,' he continued as he fingered the mahogany frame. 'But then I realised that God made me this way. So how can he condemn me for it?'

Tom knew that the young man was baring his soul; offering him what hope and forgiveness he could. It was more than Father John or anyone else had ever offered. But he was not ready to hear it. As the screen went black with a click and a tiny green dot in its center, he stood quickly. 'Well, it is home for me,' he stammered as if he had not heard the younger man's words at all.

Turning back towards the older man, Tom would have sworn he saw moisture in the dark, intelligent eyes of the cleaner. Antonio nodded his head in acceptance of Tom's boundaries. 'Buenas nochas, senior Tom,' he said as he reached for the garbage can to empty it.

Tom rushed from his office as if it were a burning building.