by JC Calciano
Myles suddenly tuned out and was lost in thoughts of the last time he’d been to the restaurant. As often happens when a person is deep in thought, the inner dialogue spills out, unintentionally, and Myles found he was talking to himself aloud. “Yeah, I had them the last time I was here. The mushrooms. They were great. It was when my date decided to ditch me.” Only then did Myles realize what he’d done and felt completely embarrassed.
The others all had obvious looks of disbelief. Brody rolled his eyes as if to say: Same old Myles. He signaled to Myles to cut it out and just enjoy the sexy man he’d been set up with. A sympathetic look on his face, Raul tried to soften the awkwardness. “I’m sorry about that. Hopefully tonight will be better for you.”
He smiled sweetly, but Myles wasn’t sure how to diffuse the awkwardness. He raised his glass. “Here’s to not being dumped tonight.” Myles wasn’t sure what to say; he thought that he’d just own his faux pas. Hopefully, everyone would find it cute and amusing. No one was perfect; Myles certainly knew that he wasn’t. He thought if nothing else, this could be a test to see how his date handled an awkward situation. Raul unfortunately wasn’t prepared for Myles’ test. It was obvious he didn’t know what to make of him.
He looked toward Brody and shrugged as if to say, “Okay, I’m doing you a favor but now what?”
Brody glanced at Myles and shook his head. “Well, my friend here can be a bit depressing at times. That’s why I had the waiter remove all the knives and other sharp objects from the table.”
Myles laughed. “You’re an asshole.” His tone was playful. Brody was trying to save him from this situation, and he very much appreciated it.
Brody’s blind date finally spoke up, further adding to the awkwardness of the evening. “You don’t recognize me, do you?” The tone was borderline accusatory.
“Should I?” Brody’s expression seemed to convey the question: who the hell is this guy anyhow?
“Walter on Grindr? I’ve tried to chat with you a few times, but you never answer my texts.” He leaned forward defiantly, as if to dare Brody to come up with lame excuse.
Brody shrugged like he didn’t remember.
Oh, great, Myles thought, it was going to be that kind of evening from beginning to end. How on earth could he have chosen someone who knew Brody, or at least knew about him? Well, that was easy. Brody probably knew most of the men in the whole Southern California area! No, that wasn’t fair. He had to admit that part of the problem was his own fault—starting with a negative attitude and spouting off about the last time he’d been here. But this thing with Walter certainly wasn’t his fault.
“Sorry, I’m not great with technology,” Brody answered, bright-eyed and innocent. “I’m just a simple farm boy.” Of course, this wasn’t true, Myles knew. Brody was originally from New York City and probably had never even seen a farm in his life except for maybe on TV.
“Oh? Where are you from?” Walter was still on his high horse and obviously didn’t believe him.
Brody thought for a second and then shrugged, he didn’t care or want to put the effort into manufacturing a lie. “New York.”
“Humph!” Walter responded. “And how was the harvest in Manhattan last year?” The question dripped with sarcasm.
“Sorry, Walter, I don’t know. I haven’t been back home in a couple of years.”
“Yeah, sure,” Walter answered dismissively.
Well, what else could Myles expect? He had told the guy Brody’s name. Why hadn’t he simply said he wasn’t interested? Because things never worked out, that’s why. Why had he ever suggested the double date to begin with? It was something Brody would usually have come up with. Ridiculous.
An awkward silence followed before Raul jumped in to once more try to save the conversation. “I’m originally from Colombia. My parents are farmers. Organic coffee trade.”
“There’s no such thing as organic coffee,” Brody said hoping to fuel a healthy, friendly debate about how ludicrous the price of coffee is and how it’s marketed.
“I hear it’s just a marketing ploy to drive up the cost of beans,” he added in an attempt to help his friend make a point.
Both Raul and Walter were taken aback.
“My family is in the coffee business, too,” Walter said. “We sell espresso machines and roasted beans...” He stared at Myles and Brody. “Mostly organic.” The last two words meant as a quick jab.
Brody turned to Myles. “A Colombian who grows coffee and an Italian who makes cappuccino? At least they don’t fit any stereotypes.”
Myles burst out laughing. He wondered if the other two had heard Brody’s comment. He decided he didn’t care. “Behave,” Myles told him, though he secretly enjoyed siding with Brody against their dates.
Raul turned to Walter. “What’s your family name?”
“Fiori.”
“Yes, I’ve heard that name. I think my family supplies your coffee beans.”
“Get out of here.”
The two of them were completely ignoring Myles and Brody—par for the course, Myles thought.
“I’m serious!”
The evening was going nowhere but down. Maybe Myles had been wrong in giving up so easily. He’d give it one more try. “I’m a coffee whore. A double-decaf-latte with soy, extra foam, and extra hot. I don’t want to tell you what I’d do for one of those before work.”
“And you said it was just a little vanilla froth on the corner of your mouth the other morning,” Brody kidded.
“Hey, what goes on between my barista and me is my business,” Myles answered.
Brody burst out into laughter, which was infectious. At least for Myles. Not for the other two men, that was certain! Their non-reaction made Myles laugh even harder. Soon he and Brody were giggling like two teenager caught up in the same joke to the exclusion of everyone else in homeroom.
Their laughter borders on the hysterical when they saw the disapproving glances from Raul and Walter. But soon again their dates were wrapped up in their own fondness for each other. Other than the quick look, they turned back to each other ignoring their respective dates.
“Do you know Vincent?” Raul asked Walter.
“Vincent’s only my brother!” Walter exclaimed.
Raul shook his head in disbelief. “Crazy small world! What an awesome guy.”
“Vincent’s been trying to get me to travel with him for years... I think he’s even told me about your farm.”
“No way,” Raul said. “We’ve got a thousand acres of the lushest farmland you’ve ever seen...”
Myles and Brody sat in astonishment, watching the magic unfold between their dates. The thing was: Raul was smart, successful…and hot! And sharply dressed besides. Everything Myles had been looking for in a man.
Damn, he thought. What was wrong with him! Wasn’t this man exactly the kind worth fighting for instead of giving up so easily? Besides, he and Brody weren’t on a date with each other, were they? Of course not. They were best buddies and it was so easy to fall into their usual rapport. And this was supposed to be an opportunity to find a husband, damn it!
Myles decided he wouldn’t give up without a last-ditch effort. “So, how about them Dodgers? Looks like it’s going to be a rough season coming up, huh?”
Raul obviously didn’t recognize the playful nature of Myles’ question, but instead his feeble attempt to reset the conversation in his favor and win Raul’s attention away from Walter. Raul gave him a direct look, confused and dismissive. “I don’t follow sports.”
“Sports are something straight guys talk about to each other because they have nothing else interesting to say,” Walter interjected, obviously trying to make Myles feel even more ridiculous.
Strike three, Myles thought. Time to throw in the towel. This date, like every other in his recent past, was a bust.
Brody laughed humorously as he spoke only loudly enough for Myles to hear. “I’m starting to regret having the waiter remove those sharp objects.”
“Think they’ll notice if we leave?” Brody asked.
“I’ve always wanted to be the guy who leaves,” Myles whispered back.
“You know,” Brody said, “that’s a horrible thing to do to your date.”
Myles thought about how many times he’d been ditched and suddenly felt sorry about doing the same thing to Raul. “I know. You’re right. We shouldn’t do it.”
“I didn’t say we shouldn’t.” Brody gave Myles a big smile. “I just said it was horrible. That’s what makes it such fun!” He turned to Raul and Walter, with the obvious intention of schooling Myles in how to do it. “Would you excuse me?” he asked politely.
Fun? Myles thought. Well, yes, it was. Fun to be the dumper instead of the dumpee. “I agree,” he whispered to Brody. “We need to get of here before I can think any more about it.”
“Sure,” Raul answered without even looking to see what was going on. He was deep in flirtation mode with Walter, so much so that it seemed to Myles he was trying to close the deal with Brody’s date.
“I’m getting up too,” Myles said, without Raul or Walter even acknowledging that he’d spoken.
Walter and Raul were perfect for each other, even though they were virtual doppelgangers of Brody and Myles. The difference was that unlike Myles and Brody, Walter and Raul seemed to recognize they’d found their perfect match and were basking in the fact.
Brody and Myles left the table and then turned to look back. Walter was clearing a fallen eyelash from Raul’s cheek.
Brody shook his head. “Can you believe this?”
“Oh, I do believe it!” Myles answered. “After all, I have a lot of experience with things like this.”
Despite what he’d said to Brody about leaving, Myles began feeling guilty. The sort of behavior he and Brody had engaged in—ditching their dates—was okay for others but not for him. He held himself to higher standards. Admittedly, it felt good to be the one in control, and certainly there was an adrenaline rush to being the one who walks out instead of the guy being jilted, but still, he couldn’t help but feel bad that they were walking out on the other two. He shook his head. “I know I shouldn’t feel bad about this,” he told Brody. “But I do.”
“What did I teach you about having feelings?”
“They can only work against you?” he said, echoing the firm sentiment that Brody had permanently etched in his memory.
“Precisely.”
As they left the restaurant, Myles figured their dates wouldn’t even realize they were gone. It was a clear night, stars twinkling in a cloudless sky. Suddenly, Myles felt better about what they had just done. They climbed into Brody’s car. Brody started the motor and turned to Myles. “So the evening isn’t a total waste, how about a nightcap at my place?”
“Fine with me,” Myles answered, happy that the night wasn’t going to end on a down note. Bonus Brody time was never a bad thing.
***
When the two men entered Brody’s apartment, it was early enough that Myles thought he had a bit more time to spare before calling it an evening. Brody tossed his keys into the tray near the front door. Myles noticed that next to the keys stood the framed photo of the two of them. The identical photo he’d made for himself of the day they first met. Myles smiled. He knew he meant a lot to Brody but for some reason the fact that Brody had displayed the photo of the two of them from that day so prominently made him happy. Brody was oblivious of Myles thoughts; he was on a mission. He grabbed two glasses, dropped in some ice and healthy splashes of Jameson Irish Whiskey and handed one to Myles.
“Well, that went predictably bad.” Myles said.
“I’ll give you that,” Brody answered, resigned to their crash and burn for the evening.
Myles tried to refuse the drink, but Brody put it in his hand anyway.
“I’ve got a big meeting tomorrow, Brody. Gotta be at my best.”
“Jesus, Myles. Just relax for a bit. No need to rush home to Jeff Stryker,” he teased. There was no way he was going to let Myles slip out on joining him for a nightcap. Brody loved to toast when having a drink, and he was determined to have a drink with his bestie to finish off the evening. Besides, he thought, it was early, and Myles had nowhere to go. The next day’s meeting was just an excuse to get away and brood.
“Who is Jeff Stryker?” Myles asked and then obviously remembered. “Oh, the dildo.”
Brody smiled. Myles’ naiveté was adorable, he thought. Which was yet another thing Brody loved about him.
Myles noticed a glass with a chicken bone in it on the floor near the couch. He bent down and picked it up. Actually, it was resting in one of the Waterford crystal whiskey glasses Myles had given Brody for Christmas years ago. “You know I can send over my cleaning lady. She’s only $75 a visit. She’ll even bring her own napalm.” He shook his head in obvious disbelief and slight disgust. “You need someone to take care of you.”
Brody laughed. Myles was a total neat freak! And he was the opposite. If his place was a little messy, so what? Well, okay, a lot messy—not quite the city dump, but close. “No. I just need to hire a maid.” He had no intention in engaging in this line of conversation. This was exactly why he never had Myles come to his home. He knew Myles would have something to say about the way he kept his place, and for Brody, there are just too many other things he’d rather be doing with his time than cleaning.
“Like the old song says,” Myles answered, “everyone needs someone, at least sometimes. Even you. What are you afraid of?”
“Being nagged to death about being single. Speaking of... we still need to get you a man!” Myles’ criticism reminded him about their ten-year plan and how important it was to find Myles a man before their arrangement became due in just a few weeks. Drastic times demanded drastic measures! He had only one more trick up his sleeve. “Take off your shirt,” he told Myles.
If nothing else he’d get him on Grindr where he was sure to meet a lot of hot men. Maybe he’d click with one of them. At least he would be distracted for a bit by how many men were available to him. It was a long shot… but better than nothing. And it was all he had left.
“What?” Myles was alarmed by the sudden request.
“Give me your phone and take off your shirt.” Grindr was Brody’s way out of this predicament. Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner?
Myles frowned. “No way,” he fired back. “You’re not putting half-naked pictures of me up on ‘The Internet’.”
“It’s not ‘The Internet’!” Brody stood facing him. “It’s just an app, and everyone does it. Come on; try something new for a change!” Sometimes Myles could be stubborn as hell.
“No.” His expression was one of determination. He shook his head. “Tell me, how do you do it?”
Brody couldn’t resist a silly answer to an obvious question. “Very well, and often on all fours!” Myles rolled his eyes while Brody laughed at himself. Myles had no idea how easy it really was. And for a guy as handsome as Myles it certainly shouldn’t be that hard. Brody felt that this would be the perfect way to keep Myles occupied until their arrangement had clearly come and gone.
“Come on. Trust me. It’s better than being alone.”
“Well….” It seemed that Myles was staring to yield, at least a little. “I’m really not comfortable with this.”
Ah ha, Brody thought, the cause wasn’t lost, after all. “Come on, do it. Off with the shirt! Show off the goods! It’s all advertising.” He laughed. “Want to catch a fish? You gotta show them your worm!”
Myles looked aghast. “No one—and I mean no one—is seeing my ‘worm’, and the shirt’s staying on! Non-negotiable.”
“Fine. Keep the shirt on.” Brody laughed as he demanded
Myles give him his phone. Myles complied and Brody took a photo for the profile he was about to make for him. “Say ‘I’m a dirty little boy looking for a hot daddy’.”
“Cheese,” Myles said dryly.
“Cheese will do.”
Myles rolled his eyes but then posed for the photo. Brody snapped his picture. Not ideal, he thought. It was complete with shirt and awkward smile that somehow Myles still managed to make seem endearing. Not the best bait to catch a man, but it would have to do. He knew it was the only photo he was going to get from Myles tonight.
Chapter 8
Brody hit the genetic jackpot when he was born. Hazel eyes, sandy brown hair, a long lean muscular build, and a face to match all his other physical perfections. High school, sports, girls and friends ordinarily come easy to someone with Brody’s looks, but none of it really mattered to him.
Brody was born the middle child to the parents of a lower income family originally from New York but had settled in the Valley. His father left his mother when he was young with no child support to care for his younger brother and sister. He was a latchkey kid who knew only one thing: he had to be the man of the family.
When Brody was a child, his father cheated on his mother, and he was the one to shield his brother and sister from his mother’s long nights of crying. When Brody’s father finally left, it was a welcome relief for the family; however, it meant Brody had to grow up fast. His mother worked in a diner as a waitress. Long, late hours that took their toll. Although she did her best to provide for her family, she was barely able to make ends meet.
High school was especially tough. Brody loved sports but couldn’t participate due to his family obligations. He grew to resent the students who had the privilege of being on the teams and took them for granted. He wanted to be on the inside, but he always felt on the outside of what was going on.
Being handsome was a double-edged sword. The attention, the desire, the peer pressure, not only from the girls, who loved him, but also from the guys to be a stud, was unbearable. Brody only ever wanted to be loved, to have a stable family, and to be financially comfortable. All the things he didn’t have in his life growing up. He was determined to have them as an adult.