A Kind of Romance

by Lane Hayes

  Her dark hair was cut in a severe bob that accentuated her heart-shaped face and aristocratic nose. Gina’s funky accessories were her trademark. In all other ways, she was rather plain. Medium height, brown hair, brown eyes, and the tendency to dress in corporate, boring shades of blue. She paired sensible suits with over-the-top costume jewelry and reading glasses in every color known to man.

  “Clay Brenner isn’t welcome to ‘stop by’ my office. Make sure he has an appointment in the future.”

  Gina opened her mouth and immediately closed it and then nodded in acquiescence. Something in my gaze must have warned her I wasn’t going to offer details. Barring a coworker was an odd request; however, she was damn good at what she did. Moreover, she knew me. No doubt, she’d pay close attention to Clay to find out how he landed on my shit list and what he was up to now. Information was king. I’d be a fool not to listen to whatever my loyal secretary found out through the office grapevine. You never knew what you might learn. Or use at a later date.

  FRIDAY MORNINGS were hectic. Hell, maybe that was every day. Of course, the one day I planned to be a good son and check in on my dad at the bagel shop, I was hit with a barrage of urgent phone calls regarding my take on the Dow’s sudden surge. Okay, fine. The truth was I wanted to see Benny again, and I couldn’t think of a smooth way to do so without seeming too… interested.

  When Hector pulled in front of the store at ten a.m., I was stuck on a conference call that should have ended fifteen minutes beforehand. My Bluetooth headset had been glued to my ear all morning, and my ass was numb from sitting for hours. I exited the Mercedes, signaling that I’d contact him when I was ready to go. As I reached for the door to the bagel shop, someone on the call asked the age-old question… was it time to sell or hold? I stepped away from the entrance and peeked inside at the last second. I spotted Dad behind the register. He was in his element. I could see his hands move expressively as he held court with some of his regulars and a couple of employees. I didn’t see Benny right away; however, I did recognize a familiar face I hadn’t seen in a while. Rand O’Malley. The guy next to him had to be his boyfriend, William.

  I studied the two men while I considered the wisdom of selling bonds. They were both tall and lean, but that was where the similarities ended. William looked like a college student with his V-neck light blue sweater, pressed khakis, tousled sun-streaked brown hair, and glasses, while Rand looked like the rock star he was. He had dark brown, longish hair and heavily tattooed arms. His short-sleeved, black tee emphasized his toned biceps, and the basic Levi’s he wore looked hotter on him than they ever would on the average guy. They were complete opposites… the geek and the rock god. I didn’t know William, but according to my father, he was quiet and understated, while Rand was loudmouthed, vivacious, and blessed with what Dad called “the Irish gift of gab.” He had a mischievous glint in his eyes that made you want to see what he’d do next. It didn’t hurt that he was drop-dead gorgeous too.

  Rand had worked at Bowery Bagels until a few months ago when his band Spiral’s third single skyrocketed to the top ten and he was forced to quit to devote himself to touring and promoting their record. Dad was sad to see him go, but it was nice to see he’d kept his promise to visit. And from the happy grin on my father’s face, he was pleased. It was all very nice, but this was exactly what I meant when I’d told Benny about my father’s reformed ways. At one point, Rand was the kind of guy Dad would have referred to as a “worthless hippy” without knowing anything about him. Now he was like the fifth Gulden son, for Christ’s sake. I refocused on the call when I felt my pulse spike. I was being an idiot. I liked Rand, and I was grateful he was a good friend to Dad.

  “I say we hold for now. I’ll have Gina prep for a quick sale around noon if necessary, but let’s see what the market does in the next two hours. Right. We’ll—”

  I stopped in my tracks when Benny came into view. Fuck, he was pretty. I rarely used that adjective for a man, but this time it was true. There was no trace of artificial color in his dark hair, and though I was standing on the opposite side of the glass and didn’t have the greatest view, he didn’t appear to be wearing any eyeliner or gloss either. He looked fresh, wholesome, and very fucking appealing. Heat flooded my cheeks when one of the investors on the conference call repeated my name.

  “I’m here. I’ll check back with you all later. Good-bye.”

  I sent a quick text message to Gina, pocketed my cell, and made my way to the front door, strangely aware of my accelerated heartbeat and clammy palms. What the hell was wrong with me? Yeah, the other night in the backseat of the Mercedes had been sexy for sure, but extenuating circumstances had led us down a path we probably would never have traversed in the light of day. Seeing Clay with his family and rehashing old family war stories and secrets over a couple bottles of wine had lent a surreal quality to an average Wednesday night. However, this was Friday morning. An ordinary day spent doing ordinary things. Spinning over seeing Benny now made no sense. I thought the butterflies would fade in the daylight.

  No such luck.

  “Ezekiel!” Dad exclaimed. The indulgent twinkle in his eye made me smile. My shoulders relaxed as I stepped forward to greet everyone.

  “How’s it goin’, Zeke?” Rand grinned and gave me a bro handshake.

  “Good. Congratulations, by the way. I hear your songs on the radio every day, man. They must have your band on heavy rotation.”

  “Don’t make his head swell. He needs to fit through the door,” William quipped, poking Rand in the ribs playfully.

  Rand squeezed his boyfriend around the waist and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “This guy keeps it real. Have you met Will?”

  Will leaned into Rand’s side as he reached out to shake my hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you, but I don’t think we’ve met.”

  We exchanged pleasantries while my father looked on like the proud papa he was, or a satisfied matchmaker. I caught his shifting gaze the second Benny rounded the corner. We were next. Dad probably assumed the fact I’d abandoned my office midmorning on a stressful Friday under the guise of checking on him was proof positive something was up. And damn, this time he’d be right.

  Benny smiled as he approached us. “Hi, Zeke. How are you?”

  “I’m good. You?” I asked in a polite conversational tone very much at odds with my racing pulse.

  “Excellent.”

  Sweat beaded on my forehead. My fingers tingled with a desire to touch him. His hair, his mouth, his chin. Suddenly I was in the backseat of my car with him straddling my thighs and commanding me to finger his—fuck. Damn… it was hot in here. I was tempted to loosen my tie, but I’d only give myself away. It wasn’t unseasonably warm. It was me. This was a bad idea, I mused, searching frantically for a topic that wouldn’t bring attention to my internal angst or my semihard cock. I turned to Rand and leaned casually against the counter.

  “Are you touring soon? I heard something about Europe,” I prodded.

  “Yeah, we leave at the end of the month. As soon as Will’s done with school. We’re trying to convince Benny to come with us. He won’t do it. This guy is the quintessential New Yorker. We can’t get him to leave the city.”

  “I told you I—” Benny sputtered indignantly.

  “I know, I know. La familia. You are helping us with the local shows, right?”

  “Of course,” he said in a perturbed tone.

  “Help how?” I was puzzled by the cryptic exchange, and I was evidently the only one who didn’t get the meaning. Dad didn’t seem confused in the slightest.

  “Benny’s our stylist. He mainly handles our guitarist’s wardrobe. The guy’s a genius. But he won’t travel. It’s okay… we’ll send postcards.” Rand reached out to pinch Benny’s cheek and had his hand immediately smacked. “Ow.”

  I chuckled at the exchange and Benny’s put-upon reaction. “No traveling?”

  “I don’t like flying and… my family needs me.” He shrugged. He gla
nced toward the front door when the bell overhead chimed as though hoping for a distraction, and then back at me.

  We stared at each other for a little longer than necessary, and fuck me, but I couldn’t remember what the hell we were talking about.

  “There’s nothing Benjamin can’t do!” my father exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “He works three jobs… cooking, sewing, waiting on customers… and he still manages to care for his family. Hello, Mr. Welsh!” Dad waved at one of his own long-standing customers and turned to greet the older man with a firm handshake.

  I kept my eye on Dad for a moment, hoping it would keep me from embarrassing myself any further. The goo-goo eyes had to stop.

  “Mr. G looks good,” Rand observed. “Back to himself.”

  “He does,” I agreed. “Hey, I want to thank you for everything you did that morn—”

  Rand waved off my thanks with a sad smile. “No thanks necessary. I’m glad we were here. It scared the fuck out of me. Life has a weird way of reminding you how fragile we really are.”

  “True. If there’s anything I can do—”

  Rand held up a hand to stop me. “He’s my friend, Zeke. He was there for me when I needed him too. I’m glad I could help. We all were.” He gestured toward William and Benny. “Besides, Abe’s been sending homemade rugelach, and he was pretty adamant about giving us free bagels for life. I think we’re set,” he joked, threading his fingers through his boyfriend’s. “Ready?”

  William nodded. After a short round of good-byes, the two men headed for the door, stopping to hug my dad before they left. I watched their interaction, but in truth, Benny had my complete attention. I wished we were alone. I wanted to push him over that counter, pull his tight jeans over his ass, and bury myself inside him. I wanted to run my fingers down his back and hear those sexy noises he made the other night. I wanted—

  “Whatcha thinking, Zeke?” His smile was slow. A lopsided upturn of his generous mouth that morphed into a wide, sunny grin.

  I found myself returning the gesture with a somewhat lascivious twist. “I was thinking about the last time I saw you and how I loved fingering your ass. I can’t wait to do it again. How about you?”

  Okay. That wasn’t what I’d rehearsed. I was supposed to be resetting expectations, not crudely attempting to finagle a redo of the other night.

  “Uh.” Benny opened his mouth and then closed it like a fish out of water.

  I chuckled softly and moved a little closer. It seemed silly to deny the obvious. I wanted him. Maybe I’d been thinking about this the wrong way. Why couldn’t we fool around? We didn’t have to pretend there was any chance of forever. We were too different to even entertain the possibility. However, we were grown men. A consensual arrangement of some sort might be a good idea, I mused.

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” I pointed toward my Dad, who was still engaged in conversation near the front of the store. “He’s gonna grill me for details about bowling and—”

  “Are you going to tell him I kicked your ass?”

  “Most definitely not. He won’t really want to know anything more than when I’m seeing you next. So….”

  “So you’re asking me out for your dad’s sake? Or because you want to finger my—”

  “Hey now! Keep it clean, mister. This is a family joint. Watch your fuckin’ language.”

  Benny busted up laughing. “Oops. Sorry. I’m working tonight.”

  “Oh. How about tomorrow night?”

  “I’m busy, but we could always meet for coffee.”

  “Huh?”

  Whoa. There’s no way I was the only one feeling this incredible electric vibe. How did we go from nearly fucking in the backseat of my car to setting an innocent date to meet for coffee? Was this a subtle way of letting me know he wasn’t interested? I couldn’t explain my genius idea about exploring mutual physical attraction with my father standing a few feet away. But I’d been pretty sure until a second ago Benny would agree it was brilliant.

  He smiled and glanced toward the growing line of customers. “I’m free Sunday or—”

  “Wait! What are you doing tomorrow night?”

  “I have a date.”

  “A what?”

  “You heard me. A date.”

  “With who?”

  “A guy I used to go to school with. His name’s Eric. It was kind of random but he’s sweet and—”

  “Hang on. Why didn’t you mention this the other night when we—?”

  “Shh!”

  I scowled, and though I knew it was ridiculous, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Did you dye your hair back to normal for him?”

  “Normal?” His steely tone combined with a scathing head-to-toe once-over told me I’d taken a wrong turn.

  “You know what I mean,” I huffed, pushing my right hand through my hair in frustration. What the hell was I doing?

  “Unfortunately, I do. Let me assure you, Mr. Gulden… if a guy isn’t man enough to deal with a little color, then he isn’t man enough for me.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. I furrowed my brow and pursed my lips thoughtfully. “Where are you going? Bowling?”

  Benny gave me a funny look but then shook his head. “I doubt it. We’ll probably just grab a drink at Gypsy. He mentioned he liked that bar. I don’t know him very well but—”

  “Then why are you going out with him?”

  “That is the point of a date, moron. To get to know someone. Geesh! What’s the matter with you? You sound jealous.” He glowered.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” I snorted in disbelief and started to turn for the door. “Why Gypsy? That place is so—” My forehead wrinkled in distaste as I searched for the proper word. “—schmaltzy.”

  “You aren’t going, so it shouldn’t matter to you.” He waited half a beat, then cocked his head and asked, “Are we having coffee or not?”

  “Sure.” I tried for nonchalant, but Benny was right. I did sound jealous.

  “I’ll see you at the Starbucks on Houston Sunday at ten.” He squeezed my hand absently before stepping behind the counter to greet a customer.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised by my acute sense of awareness at the slightest bit of contact, but I was. And I didn’t get it. I moved toward the door, thinking my best bet was to head back to the office and bury my head in high finance.

  Dad waved good-bye to one of his regulars and then turned to me with a bright smile. “Are you off to work?”

  “Yeah, I just came by to see how you’re doing.”

  He winked and gave me an indulgent grin to let me know he wasn’t fooled. “I have something to show you before you go. I found some old photos to add to the collage wall. There’s a terrific one of you and your mother. Come with me.”

  I closed my eyes briefly. This harmless detour had spiraled into a seriously bad idea. A sure sign I’d been thinking with my dick, I mused as I followed my father down the short hall behind the counter to the break room. He grabbed his blue jacket from a hook and rummaged through the pockets.

  “It’s in here somewhere. I think it’s important to keep the pictures fresh. Sprinkle in the old with the new. Benjamin said he didn’t mind sprucing the wall up a bit and—ah! Here they are!” he exclaimed, waving a plain white envelope over his head excitedly.

  A wary sense of foreboding made me hesitate. I didn’t want to look at old family photos. I hated sentimental bullshit at the best of times, but on a morning when everything felt off kilter, I knew a few innocent pictures could potentially ruin my whole fucking day. Dad seemed perfectly oblivious. As I opened the envelope, I listened with half an ear to his happy recounting of his first full week back to work.

  There were ten or so photos from about fifteen years ago. The first few were of my brothers and me in our Bowery Bagel shirts with our arms slung over each other’s shoulders, hamming it up with big, toothy grins. We looked so young. Carefree. I flipped
through them quickly. Most of them were of the four of us, and a few were with long-standing customers. They were sweet. Harmless even. But the last one almost brought me to my knees.

  I took a seat at the small, round table and stared at an old photo of my mom and me. We were standing in front of the store counter. She had a huge smile and was hugging me tightly around my waist. I traced her dark hair in the picture and marveled at how tiny she seemed next to my adolescent self. The photo captured an everyday moment. Nothing special had happened. No particular occasion had been commemorated. It was a spontaneous pose on an ordinary day. A throwaway fragment of time. The kind you’d give your left nut to get back if you had the chance. One more smile. One more embrace. One more word.

  I set the photo aside and took a deep breath, willing the sting of tears to subside so I could return to some semblance of normal. I couldn’t help thinking it was somewhat ironic that Benny hated that word while I clung to it with an almost desperate fervor. I stood abruptly and paced toward the sink to wash my hands.

  Normal was balance. It was peace in a storm. It was the measure of justice that didn’t require a revolution. It was simply what was supposed to be. I craved normality. However, my turbulent mind buzzed with the realization that my definition might be out of date and out of whack. I had a premonition it was about to be tested. Again. A photo of my mother and me at one of the bumpier times in my life was a strong reminder that change was the only constant. And it was incompatible to any notion of normal. On the surface the harmless photo was of a doting mother and her gawky teenage son. I couldn’t look at the picture without remembering how fucking afraid I’d been back then. Every day. I may have towered above my tiny mother in height, but I was the one leaning on her. Her sunny smile and encouraging countenance made survival possible.

  “What’s wrong, Ezekiel? I thought you might like these.” Dad picked up the envelope from the table and smiled kindly.

  “I do. I—it’s just weird.” I cleared my throat as I reached in my pocket for my cell. It was time to return to reality. “I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you later, Pops.”