“All Tate’s doing, right?” Tate’s mom, Tanya, asked me. He definitely favored her. She was a pretty lady who was positively glowing about Tate’s involvement in the charity tonight. I loved seeing somebody proud of Tate inside and out.
The place was packed, standing room only, the bouncer still allowing people through the door. There were all walks of life here and it was pretty cool to see everybody uniting to spend money for the homeless.
“Listen, I don’t want to alarm you,” Annie said in my ear. “But Alan’s wife, Denise, just walked in with a horde of her high society friends.”
My head snapped up. What in the hell was she doing here?
But I guess it made sense because she and Alan had always donated loads of money and attended benefits around town. Just because I hadn’t seen her in months didn’t mean she wasn’t still carrying on without him. I’d even heard she was remarried.
“Thanks,” I said, just as the lights dimmed and the show was about to begin. Maurice’s voice rang through the microphone and the entire bar grew quiet to listen. “I’ll keep my eye out.”
I didn’t give Denise another thought as I watched all of the drag queens shine up on stage. The only time I looked near the front entrance again was during the finale when the queens pranced around the crowd collecting tips while singing Lady Marmalade.
Frieda Love was dressed as Pink, with a red bustier and short coattails just barely covering her black fishnet stockings. I had the urge to reach for her and plant a wet one on her shiny scarlet mouth.
As she made her way past Denise and her cronies, I never saw a group of people look so out of place and uncomfortable. When Denise and I made eye contact, she appeared stunned to see me in the same establishment—or maybe just this kind of establishment. She raised her hand in a conciliatory half wave, as I tipped my chin in her direction while my stomach violently sloshed around.
I didn’t know if Tate would recognize her but I didn’t like the idea of his past coming to call one damn bit, especially on this important night.
When the queens passed by us, Annie clapped her hands and whistled, while Karen shoved a ten note in Frieda’s black garter, which was already overflowing with a number of large bills.
Playing to the crowd, Frieda Love stopped directly in front of me. She placed her hands on my shoulders, and gyrated her hips down to the floor and back up again as some of the audience shouted in our direction. Then she leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “I am so going to eat your ass tonight.”
Holy fuck. I could feel the pink already flushing my cheeks at the same time my cock plumped up. She knew the exact affect her words had on me as she threw her head back and cackled.
Afterward, many pairs of eyes were on me, including Denise’s, but I refused to look in her direction. I felt a surge of possessiveness well up inside me, or maybe it was protectiveness. Whatever it was it made me want to grab Frieda, throw her over my shoulder, and take her home, like some big ape. I wanted to unwrap her like a present and claim my prize—Tate. But there would be no Empire State climb tonight. Besides, Frieda would maim my balls with her stilettos before I even got past the door.
After the show ended, the crowd remained loud and hyped and the drinks were still pouring which was great news for Ruby Redd’s as well as for Safe Harbor. Andre was packed in the far corner of the room with Chris, and he was beaming about the show. Chris was wearing one of the dresses that Tate had given her and looked absolutely smashing as she talked to some of the patrons near the buffet table.
I was so caught up in watching them that I didn’t even hear Denise approach from behind. “How nice to see you, Sebastian.”
I turned to greet her, as my stomach tightened painfully. She threw air kisses at each of my cheeks and I realized just how great of a public façade she had always maintained. I glanced over at Annie wondering how much truth her earlier statement about the former couple rang true.
But regardless of what I thought, her husband had still deceived her and that was not cool. When I looked in my side view, Tate’s mom was standing nearby as if waiting to be introduced and I nearly froze. But I was an adult, a professional, and we were in public. We could talk civilly and she’d be on her way.
“Erm, Tanya,” I said, trying my best to remain cool. “This is Denise…”
“Cummings is my married name,” she said, confirming the information I had received about her new marriage.
“Congratulations,” I said to Denise and just as she was about to say something about the nuptials or possibly Alan, Tanya stepped closer.
“I think I saw you at the Bethany House fundraiser at Tavern on the Green last month.”
“Yes, I was there. It was a lovely event,” Denise said as her gaze swung wildly around the bar possibly comparing the high scale restaurant located in Central Park to a gaudy gay bar in the West Village. The bitch.
“Did you enjoy the show?” Tanya asked motioning to the stage that her son had just performed on as I craned my neck over her shoulder toward the hallway and dressing rooms.
“Not really my cup of tea,” she said, turning up her nose as if she smelled something vile.
“What’s not?” Tanya asked plastering a smile on her face. “Raising money for a good cause?”
God, I already loved this woman, and now I saw exactly whom Tate inherited his personality from.
Denise laughed good-naturedly at Tanya’s barb, her hand at her chest as if she were trying to clutch her imaginary pearls.
“Of course, I’m always up for donating to charity,” Denise said and then lowered her voice as if conspiratorially. “But we should’ve sat this one out.”
Wracking my brain for anything to change the subject, Tanya’s hand had already landed on her hip. “Why is that?”
“Well,” she said, clearing her throat. “I didn’t expect to be surrounded by trannies and homosexuals.”
Oh no she didn’t! Tanya’s eyes narrowed and as she tightened her fists, I could tell she was attempting to keep her composure.
“What a thing to say, Denise,” I said more quietly at her ear so as to not draw attention to us. “Well it was nice seeing you, but I think it’s time—”
“Are you saying you didn‘t have any fun?” Tanya continued over my shoulder.
Denise’s eyes widened. “Are you saying you choose to hang out regularly with this sort?”
Suddenly, Frieda Love was beside Tanya, still in full costume. Shit.
“Well, your late husband Alan sure did,” Frieda said and the statement seemed to rock Denise back on her heels. “And in case you didn’t realize it, we are actually still people under these getups. Still human.”
I felt the clang of his words deep in my chest.
“I don’t think now is the time—” I said, attempting to diffuse what was becoming a public conversation as more people glanced in our direction.
“But Alan liked me just like this as a matter of fact,” Frieda said, her hands gliding seductively down her body.
Tanya’s mouth dropped open and I could hear Tori swear somewhere behind her.
Well fuck, if I knew one thing, it was that when Frieda was fired up, there was no dissuading her. Tate, maybe, but this was a situation that had hurt him deeply and though I wanted him to stand up for himself, this was not the time nor place. Nor honestly, the person. But Alan was no longer here and Tate was choosing to lash at the person closest to the situation.
Denise turned to me, as if I had something to do with what the drag queen was saying to her. “Whatever is this person going on about?”
“Why don’t we step outside a minute and—”
“I’m not sure why he’d want a dressed up man,” Frieda said in that ribbing voice, the one I’d come to recognize from her act. It was the set up that led to the one-two punch. “Instead of the woman right in front of him, but I guess that’s how fucked up he was. Except in the end, he devalued us both. So you’re not so different from me.”
&nbs
p; Denise was practically hyperventilating as her cheeks turned a deep purple. “How dare you!”
“No, how dare you!” Frieda said loud enough for the people around the bar to hear. “How dare you come to this event under the pretense of charity and then dis the very people the money might help fund. Get the fuck out!”
“I will never step foot into this establishment again,” Denise said, getting herself under control again. “And I’ll be sure to spread the word about the trash that works here too.”
“Honey, your kind of trash and my kind of trash never mix anyway,” Frieda said, getting the last word in. “Except under the sheets.”
As she stormed out, all eyes were on Denise and then on Frieda, like a ping pong tournament.
“Hey,” I said, attempting to gentle my voice. “I don’t think you should’ve chosen this time to—”
“Fuck you, Sebastian,” Frieda spit out and I heard Tanya quietly asking her to calm down. “I don’t need your level-headed diplomacy right now. I needed your—”
I threw up my hands in frustration, hoping like hell that Andre wasn’t going to lose his shit over this. “That’s not what I’m—”
“You get the fuck out too,” she said turning on her stilettos. “I think we’re done here.”
38
Tate
I adjusted the camera angle and then sat back on my bed. “How’s everybody doing? I’ve had quite the shitty week.”
Trying my best to smile for the viewing audience, I forced my lips to lift at the corners. Much better. Thing was, I was actually having some success with ads and sponsors providing me with extra income from my YouTube channel and my subscribers number was steadily growing.
So if I wanted to make a better living, I needed to get my act together. But Tori reminded me that my audience liked me best when I kept it real, so I should do my thing no matter how I was feeling.
“So…I fucked up big time with Dark Eyes.”
I could feel my shoulders slump. “We sort of got in a fight, in public. I felt like he wasn’t sticking up for me… wasn’t proud of who I was…and I’d had that happen with other people in my life that mattered to me…so yeah…”
On the verge of halting the recording and starting all over again, Tori came bounding into the room and plopped down on the bed.
“I told him he was being ridiculous,” she said to my audience and I could’ve kissed her right then for giving me something to play off of in this video. “Nobody puts baby in a corner…is that what this is about? You needed him to perform some grand gesture?”
“Did you just quote a sappy Patrick Swayze movie?” I said, raising my eyebrows in mock abhorrence.
“I got the point across, didn’t I?” she said. “And don’t make me remind you how many times we’ve watched Dirty Dancing together.”
I picked up a pillow and mock threw it at her. “People will think I’m lame and will stop watching. Then all I’ll have is you and Patrick Swayze movie marathons.”
“You act like that’s a bad thing,” she said, laughing. “We’ve got a freezer full of ice cream to get us through…I don’t know why there’s so much strawberry, though….”
I looked straight at the camera and sighed. “Strawberry is Dark Eyes’ favorite. One of his few flaws.”
Tori laughed and patted my shoulder like the sad sap I was. “Thing is, stupid head, we all have issues, triggers, baggage…so does he. And maybe what you said to him made him feel…I don’t know…”
“Abandoned,” I said, horrified. Fuck, that was exactly it. Sebastian had basically been left by most of the people in his life. He hadn’t told me that in so many words but I got that from our late night talks, usually after he’d woken up from one of his dreams.
“See, you’re not the only one hurting,” she said. “Right, guys?”
I hung my head down in shame. “God, I miss him.”
“That’s because you have deep feelings,” she said. “Deep, guys. Don’t let him deny it.”
“I do,” I said, admitting it to my roommate and to several thousand other people. “I have deep feelings.”
Tori stood up to leave the room and at the door she turned and smiled at me.
“Okay enough of that sappy drama,” I said, bouncing on the bed. “Let’s talk crazy cool hair colors. So you see how my blue has mostly washed out?”
I had contacted Annie so I could stop by Rosie’s Repair Shop when Sebastian wasn’t there to pick up my screen-print designs for the orders that were waiting to be shipped.
Sebastian and I hadn’t spoken in a few days, like we were at an impasse. When I tried to reach out to him by text to tell him I was sorry about my outburst and to attempt to explain myself, all he wrote back was, I need time.
“None of my business, so tell me if I’m stepping out of line,” Annie said, as soon as I gathered my things in a bag. I remained silent because I definitely wanted to hear what she had to say.
“Thing is,” she said, motioning for me to take a seat. “Sebastian has always been a private, reserved man. He doesn’t like to be the center of attention and he’d rather handle things that are delicate in a private way.”
I nodded because I’d already come to know that about Sebastian.
The only way I could explain is how I felt in that moment at the bar.
Like I was a secret again.
“In fact, I know that Sebastian called Denise yesterday and spoke to her confidentially,” Annie said. “He wouldn’t tell me everything, but I know he discussed some hard truths about her late husband. Some of which she already knew.”
I sat back in the seat, stunned. I should’ve known he’d handle it in his own way and trusted that about him.
But it also felt good to lay into that woman. She was being an asshat. After my mom got over the shock of what she’d heard, and made me tell her the whole story, she admitted that Denise was on her shit list too after how she’d acted.
“I know you think he should’ve spoken up right then and there,” Annie continued. “But if you understood how Sebastian operates, he wouldn’t have wanted Safe Harbor to suffer. He didn’t want to make the fundraiser about Alan cheating. He also did not want any negative attention to be brought down on you.”
I got it. I did. And I ached to talk to him about it. To hear his voice, even.
“Does that make sense?” she asked.
“It does,” I said, heading toward the door. “Thank you. And…when you see him, can you tell him I miss him?”
39
Sebastian
I was listening to a station playing show tunes and cleaning the hell out of my apartment, again. I was only trying to get out of my own headspace when I found Tate’s T-shirt balled up under my bed. Apparently there was no way to rid him from my thoughts. Not that I was trying so hard anymore.
The blue shirt read, I’d Bottom You So Hard, and he’d worn it the night he showed up at my apartment after The Jungle. I sank down on the sheets and couldn’t help smiling and groaning in frustration all at once.
That’s what Tate did, brought out every damn emotion. The two heaviest had sat in my gut the past few days. I didn’t realize what cloying fear and raw vulnerability I’d feel at hearing Tate dismiss me so easily at the fundraiser. We’re done.
Even if the words were said in the heat of the moment. I didn’t think I could handle somebody else important leaving me. Not somebody as important as him. I hadn’t expected his words to hollow me out and leave me with such a deep ache that all I wanted to do was cocoon inside my own house and heart to protect myself.
But when Annie convinced me that Tate genuinely missed me and I finally broke down to watch his latest tutorial, it became abundantly clear what I needed to do. I needed to fight through this feeling and not shut down. Not shut him out.
It was like Tori was telling me in her own way in the video that I needed to make a grand gesture and well, this was as grand as I could get. At least for me.
I was not a demo
nstrative person, at least not in public. In private was a different story. I hated being in the spotlight. But I hurt somebody that I was crazy about and I was having a hard time living without him. And what he said in that video…well, fuck.
Besides, calling Denise had been cathartic and it was information that I thought Tate needed to hear as well. Denise had told me that she and Alan had an open arrangement where they were free to see other people as long as it remained private and didn’t bring the family shame. In fact, the man she recently married was the same guy she’d been seeing for years.
I didn’t understand it. Nor did I want to. To each his own as long as they didn’t hurt anybody, right? Wrong, as far as Tate was concerned and though she ended up hanging up on me, I gave Denise an earful as well.
I buried my nose in Tate’s shirt, missing him, wanting him. Then I tossed it in with the laundry knowing I definitely needed to wear it for my grand gesture tomorrow night.
“You ready?” Phil the bartender asked me.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, standing up and adjusting Tate’s hopefully lucky T-shirt.
Maurice was now staring at me from the stage. He was about to introduce Frieda Love and right on cue he motioned me over. “Before Ms. Love comes out here, there’s somebody who wants to say a few words. Please welcome our guest to the stage.”
With shaky hands, I took the mic from Maurice, inhaled a deep breath, and faced the audience. There were some wolf whistles from the back row and I could hear Annie and Karen shouting out their support. Nothing better than having your family around when you needed them most. At least I had learned that in the process.
“So um, hi,” I said, and there was a rumble from the audience. I sounded like an idiot and I needed to get it together already. “A few months ago, I was sitting on a bar stool. I had wandered in to watch a show. Never been in a drag queen bar before.”
There were whispers in the audience and some narrowed gazes and upturned eyebrows.
The Hardest Fall (Roadmap to Your Heart Book 3) Page 19