By the time Jake’s beat-up Jeep rolled into Palm Springs, the desert sun was low and golden, turning the mountains a dusky rose. The GPS led them through a row of sleek mid-century homes until at last they pulled up in front of Martin and Daniel’s house—a long, low spread of glass and stone, with palm trees swaying like sentinels.
The front door opened before they even rang the bell. Martin and Daniel stepped out, casual but immaculate in tailored linen.
“Jake, Skip—you made it!” Martin said warmly, coming forward with handshakes that turned into half-embraces. Daniel’s smile was broad and appraising.
“Well, well,” Daniel added with a laugh. “The photo did not lie. You two are even better-looking in person.”
Jake flushed slightly but grinned. Skip, never shy, flexed his shoulders just enough to show the desert sun had not gone unnoticed. “Thanks, guys. It’s awesome to be here.”
They carried their bags inside, past walls of glass that revealed a shimmering pool glowing in the twilight. The house was airy, filled with light and sleek furniture.
Martin led them down a short hall. “We’ve set you up in here—guest suite, private bath, pool view. We want you comfortable, since you’ll be with us all weekend.”
Daniel winked. “Dinner’s arriving in about an hour. Take some time to settle in, get out of those clothes and get… comfortable and remember, in Palm Springs, Less is More!.”
The door closed behind them, and the boys dropped their bags with a thud. The room was more hotel than guest bedroom: crisp white bedding, a mid-century dresser, and sliding glass doors that opened right onto the patio.
Skip flopped onto the bed with a laugh. “Dude. This is next-level. Forget a gig—this is like vacationing in a magazine spread.”
Jake tugged open the dresser drawer, finding neatly folded towels and a card with the Wi-Fi password. “They weren’t kidding about comfortable. And, uh, I think we both know what ‘less is more’ means here.”
Skip was already fishing a pair of short swim trunks from his bag. “Pool boys don’t exactly need jeans. Let’s give them a preview.”
Jake laughed, pulling off his shirt and digging for his brightest briefs. Soon both stood in front of the mirror, adjusting straps and striking exaggerated model poses.
“Palm Springs chic,” Skip declared, turning a slow circle.
“Palm Springs cheek,” Jake corrected with a grin.
They both laughed, sliding the glass door open to let the desert air wash in. Dinner was an hour away, but the stage was already set for a weekend that promised to be anything but ordinary.
Once they had traded travel clothes for swim briefs, the boys couldn’t resist curiosity. The house seemed too inviting to just sit in their room until dinner.
“C’mon,” Skip said, sliding open the glass door. “This place is begging to be explored.”
They stepped barefoot onto the patio. The air was warm but softening as twilight deepened, the pool glowing with underwater lights that shimmered turquoise against the desert dusk. Beyond, the San Jacinto mountains loomed like painted backdrops.
“Bro…” Jake said under his breath. “This is insane.”
They padded along the edge of the pool, spotting little touches that spoke to Martin and Daniel’s style: neatly rolled towels stacked on a cart, floating lanterns anchored at one end of the pool, a sleek outdoor bar already stocked with crystal-cut bottles.
“Can you imagine this place once it’s packed?” Skip grinned, leaning on the bar as though already at work. “Music going, cocktails flowing, us making it all look easy.”
They moved inside again through sliding doors, wandering the main living area. Walls of glass framed the pool like a photograph, while inside, low-slung couches, sculptural lamps, and bold abstract art gave everything a modern but lived-in feel. A record player sat on a credenza, ready for the night’s soundtrack.
“Dude, look at this kitchen,” Skip said, running a hand along the marble counter. A stack of polished glassware waited, perfectly aligned. “We’re not just serving drinks—we’re serving vibes.”
Jake picked up a cocktail shaker from the counter, giving it a mock shake. “Testing the equipment.” He grinned. “Solid.”
They wandered further, finding little nooks: a library alcove with rows of art books, a sunken lounge with cushions, and an outdoor shower tucked discreetly near the pool. Everywhere they turned, the house whispered: stylish, curated, ready for a party.
Finally, they flopped onto a pair of deck chairs by the pool, the desert sky now deepening into indigo.
“Not bad for a side gig,” Skip said, stretching out, his speedo catching the glow of the pool lights.
Jake closed his eyes, hands behind his head. “If this is just the warm-up, imagine the actual party.”
They lay there in easy silence, the desert night humming softly around them, until the sound of a door opening inside signaled that dinner had arrived.
The food arrived just as the desert sky turned velvet blue, stars beginning to pinprick above the palm trees. Martin and Daniel carried platters out to the patio, setting the outdoor table beside the glowing pool. Lanterns floated lazily across the water, casting golden ripples of light.
When Jake and Skip approch, both in nothing but their brightly colored swim briefs, the men paused mid-motion.
Daniel let out a delighted laugh. “Well… looks like you two embraced ‘get comfortable’ in the most literal way.”
Martin raised his wine glass with a grin. “Brief, but effective. I’d say we definitely made the right choice.”
As they took their seats, Martin leaned slightly toward Daniel and whispered just loud enough for a playful aside: “I do believe they’re wearing cock rings.”
Daniel’s smile broadened, eyes twinkling. “Splendid.”
Jake and Skip exchanged a quick glance—half sheepish, half proud—and slid into their seats. “Figured we should practice the dress code,” Skip said with a smirk.
“Practice makes perfect,” Daniel replied, eyes twinkling.
Dinner was simple but elegant: grilled lamb, fresh salads, flatbreads, and a chilled rosé that caught the lantern light in its glass. Conversation moved easily from road trip banter to Palm Springs gossip, until Martin steered it toward the weekend’s purpose.
“So, here’s how we’ve set things up,” he explained, pouring more wine. “We’ve hired local staff to handle the heavy lifting—food prep, cleanup, all the endless busy work, two bartenders and three servers.”
Daniel leaned in, gesturing with his fork. “Which frees you two up for the more… enjoyable jobs. Greeting guests as they arrive, keeping drinks refreshed, mingling, making sure everyone feels welcome. Think of yourselves as the human spark that keeps the night lit. Accommodating and friendly”
Skip grinned, tapping his glass against Jake’s. “That’s basically what we do at every party anyway.”
Jake nodded. “We can handle that. Smiles, charm, making sure everyone’s having a good time—it’s kind of our specialty.”
Daniel and Martin shared a look across the table, satisfied.
“To excellent hosts,” Martin said, raising his glass again.
“To an unforgettable weekend,” Daniel added.
Jake and Skip clinked their glasses together with broad smiles, the glow of the pool reflecting in their eyes. The weekend hadn’t even begun, and already, it felt like something out of a dream.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
