by Lane Hayes
“You know, I heard that song on the radio the other day and instead of changing the channel, I just smiled and thought, ‘Aww. That’s Josh’s song.’ You’re bringing back the oldies, baby. How do you feel about Duran Duran, though? If you’re taking requests, I vote for ‘Rio,’ ” she quipped, raising her to-go cup in a toast.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said as I pulled my phone from my pocket and glanced at the screen. Two missed calls from Finn and a text.
I said yes
I stared at the message for a moment then pressed Call.
“You aren’t announcing your engagement, are you?”
Finn snickered. “Are you proposing, Joshy?”
“Uh…”
He laughed aloud then. I could picture him in his leather chair with a view of the city behind him, issuing orders like a boss. He’d left for work at the crack of dawn, but I clearly recalled the scent of his cologne and the feel of his smooth freshly shaven jaw against my scruffy one when he’d kissed me good-bye a few hours ago. I smiled at the memory and refocused when I heard him speak again.
“I’m heading into a meeting now but I wanted you to know.”
“Congratulations, Daddy.”
“Hmm. Thank you, but it may be a while.”
“At least nine months,” I joked, unable to keep the shit-eating grin from taking over my face. “How do you feel? Are you ready?”
Finn didn’t reply right away. I could hear voices in the background and figured his hesitation meant this wasn’t an ideal time to discuss parenthood. I wished I was with him right this second so I could gauge how he was feeling without having to read the silence. This was a big moment. This was the day he decided to take a chance on something bigger than himself. And after what he’d shared the night before, I knew this decision carried weight.
“No. Not at all.”
“You’ll get there. Hey, we should celebrate,” I declared.
“There’s nothing to celebrate yet. I just said yes.”
“Au contraire! You just agreed to change your life in a forever kind of way. That’s worthy of a glass of champagne or two. And did you notice how I wove a little French in there? We have all kinds of things to celebrate!”
Finn chuckled. “Maybe so. I’ll see you tonight, love. And Josh? Thank you.”
I disconnected the call and slowly sank into my chair with a dreamy smile that far outshone the one I’d worn all morning. Better yet, it chased away the shadow of doubt I’d done my best to ignore. If he agreed to help Scarlet and her girlfriend, it had to mean he was ready to let the past go and finally begin again.
July passed in a whirlwind. I spent long, boring days at the real estate office with my eye on the clock wishing time would move faster. I just wanted to be with Finn. Most weeknights we stayed in. We made dinner, watched television, and talked. A lot. Sometimes we talked about the baby that might be after he’d given his sperm samples at the clinic. Or wanked off in a plastic cup, as he more eloquently put it. But speculation about when or if it would happen agitated him, so after the deed was done, we wordlessly agreed to leave it alone.
My French class was over in late July and I wouldn’t find out about the job with Dante until September, which left the entire month of August to revel in the joy of being with a sexy man I couldn’t get enough of. We went for hikes in Muir Woods and drives along the coast that almost inevitably led us to Finn’s favorite rock. Sometimes we followed the trails, but we usually circled back to sit side by side on our granite perch above the ocean. Other times, we’d head straight there with a cozy blanket and a contraband bottle of wine. Like tonight.
I sipped Pinot Grigio on a late Sunday afternoon in August, staring out at the fiery sunset on the horizon while Finn chatted beside me about bike riding in the city.
“Do you want to join me tomorrow?”
“Not a chance, but thanks for asking,” I singsonged.
“You need to try out your new bicycle or I’ll be terribly insulted. I thought you wanted one for your birthday?”
“I did and I love it. But I’m never going to ride a bike up a steep hill during rush hour. Thanks, anyway. I was thinking more along the lines of casual rides in Golden Gate Park or—”
“Across the bridge. That’s a fine idea, that is,” Finn pronounced, flinging a companionable arm over my shoulder.
“Across the—no way! Let’s start with a ride in the park,” I countered.
“Chicken,” he said without heat. “It’ll have to be the weekend after next. I leave for Chicago this Wednesday for my new office opening.”
“Oh. Does that mean you’re going to miss Dante’s exhibit? It’s this Saturday.”
“I didn’t plan on coming home until Sunday, but…I’ll see what I can do.”
I nodded then leaned against his side and sank into the moment. The feel of the cool ocean breeze and the sun’s glittery reflection on the placid water beneath us. This was a beautiful slice of time. No matter what happened in the months ahead, I wanted to always remember this. I didn’t want to think about new jobs or kids or my parents or…anything. I just wanted what we had now.
“Things are going to change,” said someone who sounded like me.
What was I thinking? Nothing killed a happy buzz faster than the knowledge it wouldn’t last, and could in fact result in a hangover. I rubbed his stubbled jaw with the back of my hand to get his attention. He captured my fingers and kissed my knuckles sweetly.
“Aye.” The word was like a sigh, effectively ruining my moment of whimsy.
“Change can be good.” My quest for assurance was painfully transparent.
“It’s simply a part of life. Good, bad and otherwise. In the words of George Bernard Shaw, ‘The wrong road always leads somewhere too,’ ” he said with a laugh. “Don’t worry about what isn’t here yet.”
He was right. I felt like a kid riding out the final days of a summer vacation I knew couldn’t last forever. Sure, there were exciting events on the horizon, but they seemed tainted with an impending “first day of school” aura that made me nervous and itchy. And scared. The unknown lurked in the shadows. Would I make new friends? Would I like my teachers and get good grades? I had nothing concrete to worry about now, but I couldn’t escape the notion that I should squirrel away every memory with Finn and suck the life out of the present because the future was uncertain at best.
A trip to a museum or gallery was my idea of high excitement. Don’t get me wrong, I loved going to bars and clubs with scantily clad hotties grinding against each other under rainbow-colored strobe lights to electronic dance music just as much as the next gay. But the people who knew me best would tell you I’d always choose art first. I smoothed my hands over my hair and gave myself one last glance. The blue checked sport coat paired with a white oxford shirt and designer jeans looked snazzy enough for an art show, I mused before backing out of the bathroom and moving down the hall toward the front door. I stopped in my tracks when I heard a shuffling sound and a low groan.
Oh boy.
Grant and a burly-looking muscular dude I assumed was Steroid Steve were grappling for dominance against the wall in the foyer, connected in a tangle of tongues, hands, and thrusting pelvises.
“Hi, there. I’m Josh, Grant’s best friend,” I said, waving cheerily.
“Oh—wow. You’re home. I didn’t think you’d be here. You’re never here and—um…I’m sorry. Steve, this is Josh.”
I tried but I couldn’t contain my amusement. They were dressed in workout clothes and hey, mesh basketball shorts didn’t do much to hide boners.
“Nice to meet you,” Steve said in an uber-deep voice that made me look twice.
Steve was a few inches shorter than Grant, but his bulky frame made him seem bigger. He had dark, cropped hair, a square jaw, and light brown eyes. Compared to Grant, he was ordinary in the looks department, but then again, everyone was.
“You too,” I replied, unable to stop my grin from spreading.
&n
bsp; “Are you going to be here for long?” Grant asked testily.
“Yeah, all night.” I held up my hands in surrender when Grant snarled and then busted up laughing before turning to answer the doorbell. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’m on my way out. Here’s my date now.”
Zane stood on the threshold dressed almost exactly like me, though he managed to pull off the casual but refined look with an ease most wouldn’t expect from someone who spent the bulk of his day on the ocean.
“You ready to—oh, hey, Grant. I thought you were busy tonight.”
“He is busy,” I quipped before launching into another round of intros with Grant’s lover.
“Where’s Eric? Where are you guys going?” Grant asked as he stepped toward the door.
“To an art exhibit. Eric’s in Chicago with Nick for business and I didn’t have anything better to do so I figured, why not check out overpriced art with Josh?” Zane teased before motioning for me to hurry up. “Let’s do this, date. The driver is waiting for us.”
I furrowed my brow in confusion but complied, waving absently at a relieved-looking Grant. When we were settled in the back seat of our chauffeur-driven Prius, I turned in my seat to eye my friend.
“I didn’t know Eric and Nick were in Chicago.”
Zane gave me a funny look. “Yeah. Why?”
“No reason. That’s where Finn is too.”
“I know.”
“You do? Then fill me in. I didn’t know.”
“Well, my husband is with his ex doing business with your guy who’s also with his ex or his beard or whoever she is and Grant is getting laid. Grant’s the only one who seems to have the right idea, by the way,” he snarked.
“Huh. I didn’t know,” I repeated softly.
“Didn’t know which part?”
“I didn’t know they were all in Chicago. Together. That seems…weird.”
“How? It’s just business. Isn’t that how you sold me on going to this exhibit with you? You said it’s business and that you’d happily pay me back in beer if I’d be your date,” he joked.
“If I used the word ‘date’ I was kidding. You’re my friend.”
Zane turned to fully face me. “Why are your panties in a twist? Eric, Nick, and Finn work in the same industry. They aren’t having a threesome, buddy.”
“I know but—” I glanced out the window, hoping the whirl of streetlamps might help me gather my thoughts. They didn’t. “I didn’t know Scarlet would be there too. And I really hate that I just said that out loud. I sound jealous. I’m not, but it is…odd.”
“Do you think there’s something between them?” Zane asked.
“Yeah. Not sex, but…whatever. I can’t worry about it now. I’ve got to be fabulous if I’m gonna nail this job down. Thanks for coming with me. Give me an hour, then all the beers are yours,” I promised as the car slowed in front of the brightly lit gallery on Sutter.
I sought Dante out as soon as we entered the packed space. Art openings were frenetic and often chaotic affairs. It wasn’t a good sign if they weren’t. My plan was to let Dante know I was there then briefly peruse the art before letting Zane off the hook. I’d asked him as a joke at the last minute when none of my usual artsy friends were available. Marley was in Portland looking for an apartment. Grant had a date. And my date was with his date in Chicago.
I took a healthy gulp of red wine then gazed up at the giant canvas in front of me. There was no point freaking out about Finn and Scarlet now. I didn’t like it but worse, I hated that I didn’t feel entitled to jealousy. They were friends. What difference did it make if she accompanied him on a business trip? He’d asked me too. Though he’d probably counted on me saying no. I wasn’t the beard he needed, I thought grumpily.
“Good evening, Josh! It’s great to see you.”
I transferred the plastic glass to my left hand to greet Dante who looked like the art baron he was. He was dressed entirely in black except for the red cravat around his neck. He squeezed my shoulder affectionately before releasing my hand. Then he leaned into my side and gestured at the large contemporary painting I’d been staring at.
“What do you think of this one?” he asked conspiratorially.
“I think it’s trying too hard,” I replied automatically.
Dante barked a quick laugh then slipped his arm through mine in a maneuver that seemed overly familiar. “I agree wholeheartedly, but you’ll never hear me say that again.”
“That’s probably wise,” I said with a half laugh.
“True. I’m glad you made it. I wanted you to get a feel for this gallery in particular. This would be your home base. The woman who’s been managing it formally gave her notice. The position will available in three weeks.”
“Are you offering me the job?” I cocked my head and pivoted to face him.
“Yes,” he said, stepping sideways to make room for a patron. “I’ll have papers drawn up with the full job description and salary information. I have staff to cover this location, but I’ll need someone here no later than the beginning of October.”
“Six weeks from now.” I sipped my wine as I studied the thick application of red paint at the edge of the canvas.
“You’d have plenty of time to think it through and make arrangements with your current employer and—never mind that. Just enjoy the art tonight. Have you been here long? What’s your favorite piece so far?”
I smiled at his boyish enthusiasm and happily went along with the change in topic. I wasn’t ready to make any big decisions tonight, and I was grateful he didn’t expect it. I preferred talking about art over money any day. Dante regaled me with interesting tidbits about some of the artists featured. He was charming and had a way of making me feel like I was the most fascinating guy in the room. I’d noticed it at our lunch months ago and hadn’t thought much of it since I was his sole guest. In a room full of art connoisseurs, it was almost baffling. A few passersby stopped to pay their respects to him, but he didn’t stray from my side. In fact, when I backed up a step to look for Zane who’d gone outside to return Eric’s call, Dante held my elbow to keep me close until the woman he’d been talking to left.
“Did you come alone?” he asked.
“No. I brought my friend, Zane. He’s on the phone with his husband but…he’ll be back soon.” I cleared my throat noisily. Way to ramble, Sheehan.
“Gotcha. I was looking for Finn earlier. I forgot he and Scarlet were out of town.” He countered my sharp look with a smile. “It’s important to keep up appearances and—”
“Hey. There you are! The Giants are down 3 to 5 in the seventh. Let’s get a beer and watch the rest of the game at the bar across the street,” Zane interrupted, throwing his arm over my shoulders. “Are you ready?”
“Um…yeah. Zane, this is Dante Crowder, the owner of the gallery,” I reminded him in a deliberate tone I hoped would encourage him to keep his lack of interest somewhat hidden.
Zane shook his hand and engaged in pleasant small talk for a few minutes until Dante excused himself. “I’ll be sure to send that email early next week, Josh. Thanks again for coming by.”
I watched Dante’s retreating form until he was swallowed by the crowd. Then I elbowed Zane in the ribs and pushed him away. “Why are you hanging on me, weirdo?”
“ ’Cause that guy was hanging all over you.”
“No, he wasn’t.”
“He was too. It wasn’t the overly obvious kind of ‘all over you,’ but I definitely think he wants in your pants. Something to consider when you’re looking over that contract, dude,” Zane commented wryly before plucking the wine from my hand and slugging it down. “Let’s go.”
The contract was emailed to me Monday, the same day Finn got back from his trip. We’d talked or texted every day while he was gone but for some reason, I never brought up Dante. Maybe it was because he didn’t mention Scarlet. He knew I went to the opening, I knew he went to Chicago, but we left the details alone. Then again, my version of “de
tails” might have been skewed. I wasn’t sure if I was jealous with cause or if I was overthinking Scarlet’s presence in Chicago and blowing it out of proportion. But what I really hated was the haunting feeling of déjà vu. It made me wonder if I my fear was based on the secret he’d shared, which would be grossly unfair of me. I didn’t want to believe I was a complete asshole.
I ignored my worries the best I could. When the weekend rolled around, I went with the flow and firmly pushed any negative thoughts away. I didn’t want to disturb the peace by asking probing questions. Especially when I wasn’t sure I’d like the answers. Action options seemed like a better alternative. Sex, dinner, more sex…and yeah, a bike ride.
“Where are you going?” Finn asked, whipping his sunglasses from his nose to give me a no-nonsense once-over.
“I need a break. My legs are on fire. Buy me a drink if you’re going to torture me. And a cupcake,” I complained as I pushed my bicycle to a nearby rack.
I propped it against the steel post and unraveled the lock, studiously keeping my gaze on my chore. I didn’t have to look at Finn to know he wasn’t impressed with my biking stamina. We’d ridden from the Haight to the Marina district, which didn’t seem impressive on a map, but some of those hills were crazy steep. Okay, fine. They were mostly downhill. But that only meant it was going to be a harrowing ride home. I couldn’t contemplate a ride across the Golden Gate Bridge without refueling with sugar and caffeine. And hopefully, talking Finn into rethinking our afternoon plans.
“A cupcake? Really?”
I shot him a dirty look and headed straight for the cupcake shop. I supposed it was technically a bakery. They sold cakes and cookies too, but they were known for their cupcakes. And their long lines. I turned in the doorway and gestured to the Starbucks across the street.
“You coffee, I’ll cupcake. Grab a table there and I’ll meet you,” I instructed, pushing the door open before he could argue.
Fifteen minutes later, I set my box of goodies on the table he’d commandeered at the front of the store and flopped gracelessly into the vacant chair opposite him.