by Hank Edwards
And smiled.
Will smiled back, feeling ridiculous and somehow guilty for being caught sitting behind a massive plate of ribs. Jesus, could he look any more like an overeater?
Rex walked toward him, gaze locked on Will and that smile crooking up one corner of his beautiful mouth.
“Hey there,” Rex said as he stopped beside Will’s table. “Hashies on your omelet, right? The budget farmer’s omelet at the Williamsville Inn?”
Will’s blush deepened so much he feared flames might burst into life on his cheeks. “Yeah. That’s me.” A tiny, stubborn logic center in his brain that managed to stay engaged kicked into gear, while the rest of his mind ran around waving its arms and screaming, “Rex Garland is talking to us!” The logic center pushed some words into his mouth and got his arm moving, so he stuck out a hand.
“My name’s Will. Will Johnson.”
Rex grinned and clasped Will’s hand tight. “Are you a spy? Like Bond, James Bond?”
A loud, horrible-sounding laugh slipped past the one functioning logic center. Will quickly closed his mouth and shook his head. “Nope. Just an ordinary guy.”
“You kidding?” Rex said with a tilt of his head. “You’re the guy that started the budget farmer’s omelet trend. You’re far from ordinary, Will Will Johnson. And I’m Rex Garland.”
Rex released his hand, and it dropped into Will’s lap. For a terrifying moment, Will was afraid his hand would shift to cup himself, putting Rex’s touch right against his crotch. But apparently, he had a bit more presence of mind left than he’d feared because his hand remained still. Before he could tell Rex he knew damn well who he was and loved all his music, Rex spoke again.
“That’s a lot of meat.” Rex nodded down toward Will’s plate.
“Oh, I got a double portion,” Will said. “I want to have some to take back to my room and put in the refrigerator. My office will probably be closed tomorrow because of the storm, and I wanted to have something there to eat so I didn’t have to go out again. Not that I mind going outside. It’s just, with the snow and everything, I’d rather just stay in the room. Most likely go down to breakfast, but, you know, that’s still in the hotel and not outside.”
Will managed to stop talking by pressing his lips together tight. He made a face up at Rex and said, “Sorry. I babble sometimes.”
Rex’s half-smile hadn’t slipped a bit. In fact, it bloomed into a full smile.
“I’m the same way.” He gestured toward the pickup window a few feet away from Will’s table. “I’ve got a takeout order waiting that’s nearly identical to yours. Great minds, Will Will Johnson. You be careful not to get lost out there in the snow.”
“Yeah, okay. You too.”
Rex walked away, and Will looked over his shoulder to watch as he approached the carryout counter set in the corner behind where Will sat. Damn, Rex had an amazing ass. How many squats did he do every day?
Will turned back to his meal. He tried to tune out Rex’s voice behind him as he paid for his meal, but the deep timbre was impossible to ignore. Will picked at his ribs and ate small portions of his mac and cheese, afraid to take larger bites in case Rex spoke to him on his way out the door.
As if picking up on Will’s anxiety, Rex did just that a few minutes later.
“Bundle up when you leave. The temperature’s dropping fast,” Rex said.
Will nodded fast. “I will. Thanks. You be careful with your meat.”
Heat flamed across his face, and he tore his gaze from Rex’s as he mentally cursed himself. What the hell was wrong with him? To Will’s combined horror and excitement, Rex leaned down and lowered his voice as he whispered, “I always treat my meat real nice. I think every guy should, don’t you?”
Will managed to meet Rex’s gaze for a moment and, still blushing furiously, nodded again. “Yes.”
Rex winked, lifted two large bags stacked with carryout containers, and said, “Gotta get back before my manager sends out a search party. See you at breakfast.”
Will watched him walk away, then put his head in his hands and stared down at his plate. What the hell was wrong with him?
Nerves had dampened his appetite, so Will had quite a bit of food to take back to his room. By the time he’d trudged through the snow and entered the hotel lobby with the heavy bag in one hand, his fingers were numb from the cold. He managed to fit all the food in the mini fridge and then stripped out of his clothes, damp from the snow, and stretched out on his bed to watch some TV. The window was open a couple of inches, and the curtains puffed in and out with the wind gusts. Will thought it looked like a ghost taking deep, meditative breaths and, smiling at the image, drifted off to sleep.
Will woke up a couple hours later feeling cold and needing to pee. After using the bathroom, he pulled on sweats and his hoodie and stepped to the window. More snow had accumulated while he’d been napping. A lot more snow. Because the courtyard was surrounded by three stories of rooms on three sides and the single-story hallway on the fourth, there was very little drifting due to wind. Snow still fell through the glow of the lamps and glittered where it had fallen. It was beautiful, and Will sat in the desk chair and watched for a long time, his gaze often moving back to the table where Rex usually sat. There was at least a foot of snow piled on top, and Will smiled as he thought about sitting at that table across from Rex and helping him push the snow aside.
Then he had another even better idea, and he got out more stationery and opened his notebook to where he’d written the lyrics for the chorus. He thought a moment, then wrote a quick note:
Rex,
Loving the progress you’re making on the song. I thought maybe you might be able to use these lyrics for the chorus. Enjoy the snow!
Can I pretend you’re mine for Christmas?
Can I wish for you this Christmas Eve?
All I want from Santa is your kisses
Can I pretend you’re mine for Christmas?
He read the note over a few times before signing it, Your Longtime Fan. Then he folded it and slid it into an envelope, on which he wrote Rex.
With that done, Will pulled on his socks and boots, then grabbed his coat, the room keycard, and the envelope and set off down the hall. The lobby was empty once again, and as he passed through, he nodded to the young guy behind the front desk. It was still pretty early, so most guests were up and watching TV, based on the muted sounds he could hear as he walked along the first-floor hallway. When he reached the door to the courtyard, he stopped to look up and down the hall. No one was around, so he pushed the release bar on the door, but it remained in place. He tried again, and the door moved a bit but still didn’t open.
“What the hell?”
“Snow’s blocking it.”
The voice startled a shout out of Will, and he turned to find Doreen standing by the door across from him that opened to the parking lot. She wore a jacket and had a large purse slung over one shoulder. An unlit cigarette trembled between two fingers.
“Open window doesn’t give you enough fresh air?” Doreen asked.
“You scared five years off my life,” Will said.
She held up the cigarette. “Guess I’ll see you in line to talk to St. Pete then, huh?”
“What are you doing here?” Will asked.
“Waiting for my daughter to pick me up,” Doreen said. “Bad night for driving, but what can you do?”
“Oh.” Will felt a trickle of cold air against the back of his calves and looked down. “I didn’t think about the snow blocking the door.”
“You’re gonna need to push pretty hard,” Doreen said. “Here, like this.”
Before Will could decline her help, Doreen put her cigarette in her coat pocket, adjusted the strap of her purse across her shoulder, and then strode quickly toward him and shoved the door hard. It moved several inches, allowing snow to tumble in through the opening. Doreen smiled at him.
“There, see? Just needs some elbow grease.” She peered through the narrow o
pening. “Lot prettier in the courtyard than it is out in the street where we gotta walk and drive in it.”
“Yeah, um, I just wanted to go take a look around.” Will shrugged. “It looked pretty from my window.”
Doreen assessed him silently a moment until her phone buzzed and she drew it from her coat pocket. “That’s my ride.” She regarded him again. “Got your keycard to get back inside?”
“Yep, right here… oh.”
Will had put the envelope in the same coat pocket as his keycard, and when he withdrew the keycard to show it to Doreen, the envelope tumbled out onto the floor. It landed front side up so that Rex’s name was clearly visible.
“Oops, that’s just something I forgot to throw out,” Will said and crouched down quickly to retrieve it.
“Don’t stay out there too long now,” Doreen said as she turned away to head for the exit door. “This cold sneaks up on you.”
“Yep, okay. Thanks for the help.”
Will watched her light her cigarette before she opened the door and, amid a swirl of snow and smoke, vanished outside. He turned to the door behind him and, with a grunt of effort, pushed it open far enough for him to squeeze through. Protected from the wind, the snow in the courtyard was smooth and pristine, the air completely still. Will stood and simply looked around for a time, savoring the silence and beauty.
A truck rumbled down the road past the hotel, snapping Will out of his serenity. There was work to do, and he didn’t want to get caught. He hated to muss up the beautiful snow, but he didn’t really have a choice. Moving carefully, Will made his way to Rex’s patio table and set to work.
Once he’d finished his task, Will stepped back and assessed his handiwork. Everything looked perfect. He drew his phone from his pocket and checked to make sure there was still plenty of time until Rex returned. With that settled, he opened the FaceTime app and placed a call to Carter.
After a couple of rings, Carter answered the call. His face was pale and shiny with sweat, and he was propped up in bed against a number of pillows.
“Hey, Big Willie.” Carter coughed a few times before giving the phone a pitiful look.
“Oh no, you’re sick,” Will said, his good mood lowering a bit.
“I’ll be fine,” Carter said and looked away dramatically. “Don’t worry about me.”
Will chuckled. “You must not be too sick if you can still act so dramatic.”
“It’s just a cold,” Carter said with a heavy sigh. “I’m sure it’s not the consumption.”
“Poor thing,” Will said with a pout. “Do you need me to send a hot doctor to make a house call?”
“No, no, don’t worry about me. I’ll just find one on Grindr when we hang up.” Carter pushed himself higher up the pillows and coughed a few times. “What’s going on there in Alaska?”
“I’m in upstate New York.”
Carter squinted at the screen. “It doesn’t look like it. Are you outside?”
“I am,” Will said and couldn’t help smiling. “I’m in the courtyard outside Rex’s room.”
“The courtyard?” Carter’s eyes grew wide. “The place where you left him song lyrics?”
“Shhh,” Will said, looking all around for any open windows. The only one he saw open was his own, and he turned his attention back to Carter. “I’m leaving him another lyric suggestion.”
“What? For the love of… Do you think you’re Captain and Tennille all of a sudden?”
A surprised laugh surged up from Will’s core, echoing around the walls of the courtyard. He slapped a hand over his mouth and stared at the phone as Carter collapsed into a mix of laughter and deep, hacking coughs. Carter dropped the phone, and Will found himself looking at a view of the ceiling fan over the bed as Carter coughed up what sounded like a massive glob of phlegm.
When he picked the phone up again, Carter looked completely spent. Red spots glowed on his cheeks, and his forehead glistened with greasy sweat.
“I think I coughed up something out of The X-Files,” Carter said. “My apologies you had to witness that rather disgusting scene.”
“You okay?” Will asked.
Carter nodded and slowly drew in a breath. “I can actually breathe a bit better. See? All I needed to do was talk to my good friend.”
“And throw down a reference to some obscure singing duo.”
“They are hardly obscure.”
“Anyway, do you want to see the patio and table?”
Carter nodded and looked more alert. “I do. Show me.”
Will approached the patio and touched the button to switch to the camera on the back of his phone. He looked at the screen, watching Carter’s expression as he slowly panned back and forth, showing Carter what he’d done.
“Is that… Is that a tiny snowman?” Carter asked, squinting at the phone. “The lighting is weird there.”
“Yeah, they have these old-time lampposts out here. See?” Will slowly turned to show Carter the trident-style lampposts with frosted glass shades covering the bulbs. Snow fell through the yellow lamplight, and Will couldn’t help smiling. “Oh, and that window on the top floor with the light on? That’s my room.”
“You know this is like some goddamn Julia Roberts or Reese Witherspoon movie, right?”
Will switched the app to use the camera on the front of the phone again so Carter could see his face. “I know. Only it’s me and Rex Garland.”
“Look at your ridiculously large smile,” Carter said with a grin. “You look happier than you’ve been in a long time.”
“It’s been kind of fun,” Will said. “And exciting and nerve-racking.”
“And romantic as hell.”
“That too.”
“Show me the snowman again,” Carter said.
Will changed to the other camera once more and studied his creation as well. He’d used the snow piled on top of the table to build a snowman about two feet tall. Digging into the snow beneath the window of Rex’s room, he’d uncovered a gravel-lined flowerbed and pried up a few pebbles to use for the face, making sure the snowman appeared to be looking at the patio door. He found a long, thin branch beneath a Japanese maple near one of the lampposts and broke it in half. Propping the envelope against the snowman, he placed the sticks at a downward angle to make it look like the snowman was holding onto the envelope.
“You, my good friend, have graduated to hopeless romantic.”
“Yeah,” Will said. “I have.”
“Where do you see this going?” Carter asked.
Will stared at the snowman. Where did he see this crazy stunt going? Would it end up with him at some point meeting Rex? If that happened, how would Rex react? He hadn’t seemed angry about the initial suggested lyrics, but what would he think if he knew Will was the mystery lyric writer? Will wasn’t really Rex’s type, based on the singer’s Instagram account. There was no way he could compete with all those muscular men in tiny bathing suits Rex continually posed with or the hot guys lined up in front of every stage, staring raptly up at Rex as he sang. So what was Will’s ultimate goal? If he was honest with himself, his fantasy had always been for Rex to realize Will was perfect for him, even if he wasn’t a perfect physical specimen. But how would that even work? Rex performed all over the country, singing to sold-out crowds of horny and handsome men and building his fanbase, while Will sat in a cubicle manipulating data in spreadsheets. Not really a perfect match.
“Big Willie? You still there?” Carter’s voice was softer, gentle, as if he knew his question had struck a nerve.
After taking a breath and managing to smile, Will switched to the front camera. “Yeah, I’m here. I, um, I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
Carter knew him too well for that to go over, and true to his nature, he called him out on it.
“I find that hard to believe. You’re a born planner. Hell, I bet you were born the exact day and time the doctor predicted.”
Will nodded in agreement. His mother had always told him she co
uld have set her watch by his birth, which, while weird, seemed to have carried through to the rest of his life.
“So what’s the big picture look like inside that handsome, bearded head of yours?” Carter asked. “Where do you see this ending up?”
A light went on behind the drapes of the room next to Rex’s, and adrenaline rushed through Will’s system.
“Someone’s here,” Will whispered to the phone and began the slow, plodding journey back to the door.
“Who? Rex? Is Rex there?”
“No, someone in the room beside his. I need to get out of this courtyard. Let me call you back.”
“Okay, be careful,” Carter said, then disconnected.
Will knocked as much snow as possible off his boots before stepping into the hallway, then pulled the door closed, making sure it latched securely. The cold had gotten in under his coat, and he shivered as he crossed the lobby to the elevators. The inside of the elevator was all mirrors, and Will stared at himself, taking in his dark blond hair, damp from falling snow, his matching beard, and dark blue eyes. He was at least fifteen pounds overweight, probably more since he’d been less active at the hotel. What did he think was going to happen with this little game he was playing? Someone like Rex Garland would never be interested in someone like him. Had Will really been hoping that Rex was going to fall in love with him because he wrote some simple song lyrics? His self-delusion had been running really deep lately.
The elevator doors opened, and he stepped out into the hallway. It was quiet on his floor because most of the rooms up here were being remodeled, and he’d only seen a couple of other guests in the hallway since he’d arrived. Will liked the quiet, but at times like this, the quiet meant the voices in his head got louder.
Rex had spoken first in line for the breakfast buffet, he said to himself.
He called you out for putting hash browns on your eggs, that cutting voice responded, which meant he was calling you out about your weight.
But he stopped to talk to me at the restaurant earlier, Will tried.
The cruel reply followed quickly: Where you sat behind a plate heaped with food. He would never want to be with someone like you. You don’t measure up to him.