by Ariel Tachna
Pascal frowned ever so slightly, making Mathias wonder what he had said wrong. “What about you? How long have you been at la Colombe d’Or?”
“Almost twenty years,” Pascal said. “I was waiting tables at one of the tourist traps along place Jacques Cartier, making enough to pay the rent on a tiny little apartment when a… a friend told me he’d seen a notice for a position available at la Colombe d’Or. We’d walked by there I don’t know how many times, and even through the window I could tell it was a much better restaurant than the place I was working. I figured I didn’t have anything to lose, so I put on my best suit and my best smile and applied. They hired me, and I haven’t looked back.”
“That’s great, though,” Mathias said. “You so rarely hear of people who manage to stay in a job with that kind of longevity. Average tenure at the bank is something like eight years. It’s a little higher at the management level, but while you have a few of the senior executives who have worked their way up through the ranks, most of them were brought in to be executives. They might retire from their current position, but they’ve got four or five other jobs on their CVs before this one.”
“It’s a good place to work,” Pascal said with a shrug.
“So, if you don’t mind my asking, why a restaurant?” Mathias asked. “What made you choose that?”
Pascal shrugged again. “It pays the bills. I don’t have any Saturday training sessions to worry about. The only thing I bring home from work is dinner. I get to meet a lot of interesting people, and it’s never the same thing twice. There are lot worse ways to earn a living.”
“Oh…,” Mathias said, Pascal’s last comment hitting him like a slap in the face. “Oh, fuck, no, that’s not what I meant. God, you must think I’m an insensitive idiot. I didn’t mean any of that to sound like a criticism of your choices. Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.”
Pascal shrugged again. “You’re certainly entitled to your opinion.”
Mathias wanted to curse again, but that wouldn’t help. “I suppose I am, as long as you don’t put words in my mouth.” He tried to grin and steal one of his father’s lines. “It’s unsanitary.” The joke fell flat, judging by the continued tense set of Pascal’s shoulders. “Look, waiting tables at a place like Le Salon isn’t the way I want to spend my life, but it’s not the way you’re spending your life either. I’ve walked by la Colombe d’Or. I have colleagues who swear they’ll never have a business lunch or dinner anywhere else. Working there, it’s not the same thing. That is a career choice, not just a job to help pay the bills like Le Salon is for me, and I meant what I said about how long you’ve been there. I bet you practically run the place.”
“Not quite,” Pascal said. “I don’t want the responsibility of keeping up with the books and the orders and dealing with all the personalities, especially in the kitchen. Simon is welcome to keep that. I am the head waiter, though.”
“See?” Mathias said. “Upper management.”
Pascal smiled at that. “Middle management, anyway,” he agreed after a moment. “Simon still deals with the schedules and all that. I just make sure everything runs smoothly on the floor on the days I’m there.”
“And on your days off?”
“There are other people there with enough experience to run the floor when I’m not on shift,” Pascal said. “I’m good at my job, but it’s not the kind of talent that’s irreplaceable.”
“I don’t know,” Mathias said with a smile. “I bet you’re a lot more irreplaceable than you think. Unless it’s seniority alone that determines who the head waiter is.”
“Seniority, the patience to deal with the new hires, and the tact to deal with difficult customers,” Pascal replied.
“And enough investment in the place to want to do those things,” Mathias finished. “See, that’s the difference. You like what you do. Maybe you even love it, and that’s awesome to see. For me, that passion is for the bank. I couldn’t do what you do because I don’t have the passion for it. That’s all I meant when I made the comment about waiting tables. It’s not the right choice for me, but it obviously has been the right choice for you.”
“Yeah, it is the right choice for me,” Pascal said. “And the perks are good too.”
“What perks would those be?” Mathias asked. He’d never thought about there being perks in the restaurant business.
“I can take vacation when I want,” Pascal said, “as long as there aren’t too many people wanting off at the same time. I don’t have to wait for a set school vacation or for a project to finish or for it to be convenient to my bosses. I just tell Simon not to put me on the schedule for a couple of weeks, and then I’m free to spend that time however I want. I’ve taken some amazing trips that I probably wouldn’t have been able to do if I’d worked at a different job. Most places would frown at giving me a month off to go to India. Simon just told me to bring back recipe ideas.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine asking for a month off,” Mathias said. “Certainly not for something like that. I mean, maybe if my parents died and I had to go home to take care of their estate, but even then, I doubt I’d get a month. That’s definitely a perk.”
“The biggest one, though, is not having work follow me home,” Pascal said. “When I take off my apron and walk out that door, I don’t have to think about work again until I walk back in again, whether that’s twelve hours, two days, or four weeks later.”
“And you obviously make enough to live in a place like this and still have money left over for travel and whatever else makes you happy,” Mathias said. “I certainly can’t say that at the moment. I’m working a second job and still struggling to pay the bills.”
“And you’re supposed to be the banker with the responsible head on his shoulders,” Pascal teased. “Is it really worth it to live here? I mean, when I was your age, I was sharing a flat with two other guys and taking turns sleeping depending on whose shift it was. By the time I got home most nights, my roommate was getting up to leave.”
“It’s worth it,” Mathias said. “Appearance matters in the corporate world, and having the right address, or maybe not having the wrong address, is one of those things people notice.”
“You’d know best what’s required in your own field,” Pascal said, “although it seems like a lot of work for not a lot of payoff.”
Mathias grinned. “I wouldn’t have met you if I’d gone another route.”
“True enough,” Pascal said. “You want some more wine?”
“Sure,” Mathias said. “You mentioned hiking and canoeing. And of course I know about your books, but what else do you do with your free time?”
“I work,” Pascal said. “I work as much as I can while still staying sane for ten months of the year, and then I spend the other two months traveling. Sometimes I’ll go a month, like I did to India. Other times, I’ll do a week here and a week there.”
“Really? I bet you’ve been to some amazing places!”
“A few,” Pascal said. “It’s only in the past few years that I’ve had the freedom and the money to travel as extensively as I wanted.”
“Where’s your favorite place you’ve been?”
“That’s a hard question. I’ve liked everywhere I’ve gone for different reasons.” The light in Pascal’s eyes as he spoke drew Mathias in. He leaned closer, wanting to hear more.
“Then where did you go last?” Mathias asked.
“Peru,” Pascal said. “I went last winter. It was summer there, so it was a nice break from the snow.”
“Did you make it up to Machu Picchu?” Mathias asked. “I’ve always wanted to see it.”
“I did,” Pascal said. “Do you want to see some pictures?”
“I’d love to!” Mathias said. “I suck at photography, so I’m always envious of people who can take good pictures.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s nothing more boring than other people’s travel photos, but I’ll go get my laptop. We can browse through them,” Pascal offered. “I hav
en’t gotten around to printing them out and making an album yet. That’s the one downside of digital pictures.”
“Maybe, but I can think of plenty of upsides. I really would like to see them,” Mathias said. He didn’t add that it would let him sit closer to Pascal.
“Come inside, then,” Pascal said. “As nice as it is outside today, the glare on the laptop screen will make it hard to see the pictures.”
Mathias followed Pascal back inside, bringing his dishes with him. He might be a guest, but he wouldn’t be a rude one. Pascal thanked him as he put away the pasta salad and went in search of his computer. Mathias took a seat on the couch, figuring it would provide the best option for viewing the pictures and getting a little closer to Pascal.
If the other man would let him, that is. Pascal had blown hot and cold, drawing back at every sign of serious flirting. Interest was fine. Enticement was not. Mathias wondered if he’d misread Pascal’s intentions in inviting him for lunch. He’d thought it was a date, but maybe not. Pascal was pretty clearly the only inhabitant of the apartment, but Mathias had seen him more than once with two other men at Le Salon. Could one of them be his lover? The thought pricked his jealousy, but he pushed it down. Meeting up with someone at a bar did not have to mean anything in particular. This was Mathias’s problem, not Pascal’s, and he refused to let his jealousy ruin a perfectly good relationship before it ever started. He wouldn’t be another man’s piece on the side, but making a scene now over nothing wouldn’t do any good either.
“Do you travel by yourself?” Mathias asked when Pascal came back with his computer.
“I usually go on organized tours,” Pascal said, “because they can often get better deals and squeeze more into a trip than I could do on my own, but I take my trips to get away from everyone and everything here. My friends are great, and I like my colleagues, but sometimes I just need some solitude.”
“That makes sense,” Mathias said. “Show me your pictures.”
They spent the next hour looking through pictures of Peru, and then of France, Italy, and Japan. Mathias sat as close as he could, and Pascal didn’t pull away. When it was growing close to time for him to go to work, Mathias leaned closer still, intending to give Pascal a kiss before he left, but Pascal again pulled back.
“Am I misreading things here?” Mathias asked in exasperation. “I was under the impression this was a date.”
“It is,” Pascal said.
“Then why do you keep pulling away from me?” Mathias asked.
“Because I’m not interested in a fling,” Pascal replied.
Mathias frowned. “I wasn’t aware I was offering one. A kiss doesn’t have to mean anything more than just that. It doesn’t have to be a prelude to sex.”
“I know,” Pascal said, “but I didn’t want to lead you on.”
“So instead you’re going to run me off?” Mathias said. “For what it’s worth, I like you. I enjoyed our date. I’d like to see you again, but I don’t want to feel like you’re going to freak out on me every time I touch you or flirt with you.”
“Sorry,” Pascal said. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”
“Had a date? I find that hard to believe.”
“Had a date I wanted to mean something.”
“Then you’re not opposed to flings in general, just to one with me?” Mathias teased, but the words held no heat, not when Pascal’s comment meant Mathias was different than anyone he’d been seeing recently. Pascal was old enough that Mathias didn’t delude himself into thinking he was Pascal’s first serious relationship, but he was more than willing to be Pascal’s next serious one if that was what Pascal wanted.
“I’m not twenty anymore,” Pascal said. “I’m not built for messing around. It was okay when I was younger, but that was a long time ago.”
“You’re not as old as all that,” Mathias insisted.
“I turned forty-eight in April,” Pascal said. “I’m not as young as all that either.”
Mathias smiled, and when he leaned forward to kiss Pascal this time, Pascal didn’t pull away. Mathias didn’t linger, as much as he wanted to. He’d settle for a swift buss of lips this time in exchange for more—and better—in the future. “I have a thing for men in their prime,” Mathias admitted when he’d sat back. “And you’re the perfect example.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but how old are you?”
“Twenty-four,” Mathias said. “I’ll be twenty-five in December. I’m not jailbait.”
“No, just half my age,” Pascal said.
Mathias squeezed his hand. He wanted to kiss Pascal again, but he’d already been that forward once. He didn’t want to push his luck. “Only for another few months. Then it’ll be less than half.”
Pascal laughed as Mathias had wanted him to. “Okay, you win.” He looked at the clock. “When do you need to leave?”
“In a few minutes,” Mathias said. “Come by the bar tonight?”
“I have to work too,” Pascal reminded him. “I’m off on Wednesday. I could come by then.”
“Please do. And I’ll text you once I know what my schedule is for the workshops, and we’ll plan another lunch or something.”
“I’m looking forward to it already.”
Chapter 7
PASCAL’S PHONE rang at precisely three o’clock the next afternoon.
“How was it?”
“Hello to you too, René,” Pascal said with a roll of his eyes, even knowing René couldn’t see him. “It was… good.”
“You don’t sound convinced,” René said.
“No, it was,” Pascal said, thinking back over his date with Mathias, as if he’d thought of much else since then. “A few rocky patches, but it was a first date. There are always a few rocky patches.”
“Are you seeing him again?”
“We live in the same building. I’m quite sure we’ll see each other whether we want to or not.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” René said. “Do you have another date?”
“We have a date to make a date,” Pascal replied.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m going by the bar on Wednesday to see him, and he’s going to text me once he gets his work schedule for the next few weeks so we can find a time we’re both free to do something,” Pascal said. “What did you think it meant?”
“With you, who knows?” René retorted. “So you’ve gotten over all that crap about being too old for him?”
“No, but I told him how old I am, and it didn’t bother him, so I’m trying not to let it bother me,” Pascal said. “I know how it must seem, but I really am trying. I’ve been alone for a long time. I’m ready not to be alone anymore.”
“You know Benjamin and I will support you whatever you decide, n’est-ce pas? We may give you a hard time occasionally, but we want what’s best for you.”
“You just think you know what that is, even when you don’t,” Pascal said.
“Or even when you don’t,” René replied. “I know, it’s easy for us to say that. We’ve never stood by helplessly while the man we expected to spend our lives with wasted away and died. We’ve never stood at his grave and wondered where everything went wrong. You’re absolutely right about that. We haven’t, and I’ll thank every god in the pantheon for that, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t seen you hurting and lonely, drifting from unsatisfactory date to unsatisfactory date because you were looking for a replacement for Robert or because you weren’t ready to commit to the success of a new relationship. This kid is different. I can see that even after just seeing him at the bar a few times. Maybe he’s what you need, maybe he isn’t, but I don’t want to see you lose him because you aren’t willing to take the chance.”
“We kissed,” Pascal said. “Well, he kissed me. I was so surprised I can’t say I exactly kissed him back.”
“Idiot,” René said, but his voice betrayed his affection. “Why didn’t you kiss him back?”
“I’ve been so careful since Robert died not to lead anyone on, not to hint in any way at more than I’m willing to give,” Pascal said. “I’ve forgotten how to send any other kind of signal.”
“I know you’ve had sex since he died.”
That depended on how he defined sex, but Pascal wasn’t getting into that conversation with René. Besides, that wasn’t the point. “That’s sex. I’m talking about an actual relationship. There is a difference.”
“I know there is,” René said, “but one doesn’t preclude the other. Did you tell him any of this?”
“Just that I didn’t want a fling,” Pascal said.
“I’m not saying you need to tell him your whole life story the next time you have a date,” René said, “but if this is going anywhere, he needs to understand what you’ve gone through and where your soft spots are. Even accidental bumps can hurt beyond repair. If he knows where they are, he won’t hit them by mistake.”
“I know.” Pascal dreaded having to tell Mathias about Robert. René and Benjamin had lived through that time with him. They knew without words when an anniversary, bittersweet or bad, approached. They understood when he needed time to himself around those dark days, when he needed to get away for however long it took him to be ready to face the world again. Having to explain all that to someone else would be excruciating. “I just have to find the right time to do it. If things aren’t going to work out, if he’s not going to stick around, there’s no reason to put myself through that.”
René didn’t answer right away, but when he did and changed the subject, Pascal knew he’d accepted Pascal’s assertion. “If you didn’t have sex, what did you do?”
“We had lunch, we talked about his job at the bank, about working at la Colombe d’Or, and then we ended up looking at travel pictures,” Pascal said.