by Lane Hayes
“No comment. What were we talking about? I’m supposed to be working here,” I grumbled good-naturedly.
It was Friday afternoon, and Benny was giving me a long-winded list of last-minute instructions that made me wonder for the umpteenth time what the hell I’d agreed to. I’d been to dozens of weddings in churches, cathedrals, and synagogues all over the States. I was tempted to remind him this was not my first rodeo, but I liked the sound of his voice.
“The wedding. I’ll be ready at noon. It will be easiest for you to pick me up. Unless you want to take the train.”
“You’re hysterical. No, thanks. I’ll pick you up.”
“Good. See you tomorrow. Oh wait!”
“What?”
“I’ll be wearing blue. Dress accordingly. Ta-ta.”
“Hang on! What does that mean?”
“It means what I said. I gave you the color palette. Roll with it.”
I backed away from my desk and looked out the window for the first time all day. It was June, and the city was beautiful. Blue skies and long, sunny days. I wanted to enjoy the view, but Benny had me spinning again. The fact I was at work discussing suit colors was beyond strange. Zeke Gulden didn’t take time from his schedule for this nonsense. And he sure as hell didn’t take fashion tips from a guy who wore eyeliner every other day. Yet here I was staring at the tiny people on the streets below, listening to Benny’s melodic voice instead of finishing the proposals on my desk.
We’d talked or texted every day since our Sunday together a couple of weeks ago. It usually began with a question about the upcoming wedding and then morphed into rambling conversations about anything from tourists in the city to our prospective dinner plans that evening. Our current discussion was the most we’d talked in detail about the wedding. I wondered what excuses we’d come up with once his cousin was happily married. Or if we’d feel the need to use one.
“Fine. Blue at noon. Let me get back to work. You’re a pest.”
Benny chuckled merrily. “See you tomorrow, boyfriend.”
I noted my goofy grin in my reflection of my office window and immediately scowled. After this weekend, it would be wise to put some distance between us. As much as I liked Benny, I didn’t want either of us to get the wrong idea. I started to turn back toward my desk when my cell buzzed again. I figured it was Benny with another last-minute tip, so I answered without looking at the caller ID.
“This better not be a helpful suggestion about wearing a striped, paisley, or solid tie. I know how to dress myself, babe.”
The caller didn’t laugh. Or speak.
“Ben?”
“Uh, no…. Hi, Zeke.”
My pulse went into instant overdrive. “Taylor.”
“Yeah. How are you?”
“I’m fine.” I turned back to the window and focused my attention on a water taxi cruising in the Hudson. This was… unexpected.
“Good. Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to meet for a drink tomorrow night.”
“Why?”
He gave a short laugh. I could picture his smile. A little sad, but hopeful too. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking.
“I thought we could talk about things.”
“Things? I have plans tomorrow night and I—”
“How about next week?”
I didn’t say anything immediately. As my pulse returned to normal, a cool tranquility settled in my veins, a sure sign of heightened intuition. I knew to pay close attention. It always served me well in business, but this was the first time I’d felt it strongly in a personal sense. That wasn’t entirely true. I’d felt a tingling awareness when I’d first shaken Benny’s hand. The difference was I could tell Taylor was up to something. And Benny… well, I hadn’t figured him out yet.
What I did know was Taylor was fucking with me. There had to be an interesting reason, I mused as I turned away from the window.
“I’ll give you a call.”
Chapter 6
SATURDAY MORNING dawned bright and beautiful. A perfect wedding day. I’d gone to the gym early so I could get some work done before picking Benny up. I thought I might wake up dreading the upcoming day, but after my second cup of coffee I found myself checking my watch in anticipation. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t thrilled about attending some strangers’ wedding. That part sounded like hell. But I couldn’t deny I was looking forward to seeing Benny again.
He was standing in front of his building at noon. He didn’t notice me or maybe didn’t recognize my BMW. His inattention gave me a chance to get a good look at him. He was wearing a sharp suit in an incandescent shade of blue. It was flashy, and I wasn’t sure the hint of purple was particularly tasteful, but he looked… amazing. Very handsome. I brushed a sweaty palm over my knee before rolling down the passenger-side window to get his attention. He glanced up with a start and then pushed his dark glasses down his nose theatrically.
“Well, well, well… driving in style with Mr. Gulden. A guy could get used to this,” he said, opening the door with a flourish.
“Sit down and button it, Ravioli. Where’s the church?”
“And they say romance is dead.” He buckled his seat belt and turned to me with a wide, radiant grin that made everything else fade from view.
I hid my blush by pretending to pay close attention to merging traffic. “You look nice.”
Benny barked a short laugh, and if possible, his smile seemed to grow. “Thanks. So do you. Armani?”
“Yeah. I decided to play it safe.”
“Me too.”
I took advantage of the red light to throw a dubious glance his way. “Don’t jump down my throat, ’cause I swear I’m giving you a compliment, but—”
“Not a promising start,” he mumbled.
“You look… hot. But you specifically said you were wearing blue. Is that blue or purple?”
“Both. It depends on the lighting.”
“Like a mood ring?”
Benny snickered appreciatively. “Maybe so! I made it myself, and I’m kinda proud of it.”
“You made that?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m impressed. You’re talented. You shouldn’t be working in a bagel shop.”
“It’s hard to know what I should or shouldn’t be doing sometimes. Today let’s leave bagels and pizza behind and just enjoy a gorgeous summer day in the city.” His tone carried a hint of longing I didn’t understand at first.
“Right. And attend a wedding in Park Slope,” I said sarcastically as I navigated around a slow-moving Prius.
“Don’t come. Drop me off and go visit your dad instead.”
I rolled my eyes and honked at the idiot who cut in front of me. “Hey. I said I’m going, so I’m going. Don’t get dramatic on me.”
“Hmph. If you’re going to be a believable boyfriend, we better set some ground rules.”
“Now wait a sec—”
“Number one, don’t flirt with anyone but me. Number two, be nice. Everyone will be on their best behavior, so it shouldn’t be a problem. And number three… thank you. If you’re miserable, I won’t be offended if you leave.”
My forehead creased in confusion. “That makes no sense. First you tell me to behave myself, then you say I can go if I’m not having fun. What’s going through your head, Ben?”
He let out a long sigh and stretched his legs in front of him. “I don’t want you to feel trapped. I feel like I tricked you into this, and my conscience is insisting I acknowledge it.”
“I’m not easily tricked. I’m going because I like you. You’re a nice guy who gives a great blowjob, and I’m happy to hang out with—ow!” I rubbed my right bicep with my left hand and was immediately told to keep both hands on the wheel.
“I’m happy to hang out with you too. In true Italian fashion, you can expect a long ceremony followed by a kickass party.”
“Sounds okay by me. But I have one rule too… I’m not dancing.”
“Why not?”
“I don’
t dance, and that’s non-negotiable.”
“You’ll be lonely, then. I’m a dancing fool,” he singsonged.
“I’ll manage. How many times will they play ‘Volare’?” I asked in a deadpan voice.
Benny threw his head back and laughed.
“More than once,” he assured me with a mischievous grin that made my heart flip in my chest. I should have been alarmed, but once again, I could only say this felt… right.
MY FAMILY was big on tradition. I was raised in a religious Jewish household. I’d attended my fair share of large weddings, bar mitzvahs, and bat mitzvahs, and probably someone else’s too. I’d also been to numerous Christian weddings and even a few with long Catholic Masses. But I’d never been to one quite like this. First of all, there had to be over three hundred people packed like well-dressed sardines into the cavernous church. Second, there were easily twenty bridesmaids and as many groomsmen. Just watching the procession walk down the aisle took forever.
The bride, Benny’s cousin Angie, was a tiny, pretty young woman with long, dark brown hair whose fairy-tale gown had to outweigh her by at least ten pounds. It was encrusted with sequins and pearls and had an exaggerated long train I would have thought was out of style. But what did I know? The groom was a heavyset, smallish man whose jet-black hair matched the sheen on his tuxedo. He looked nervous as hell. But happy.
I might have enjoyed the rare opportunity to attend a function with a degree of separation I didn’t usually have, but having Benny pressed against my side was a game changer. I was ultra-aware of him. The way he smelled, sighed, sniffled, and occasionally chuckled stirred something inside me I frankly didn’t understand. After forty-five minutes, the ceremony was beginning to feel like the longest I’d ever sat through.
“You okay?” he whispered during one of the numerous readings.
I smiled vaguely and set my hand on his knee without thinking. I noticed the woman sitting on my other side do a double take. I wasn’t overly concerned with what other people thought anymore. Benny was the only one in this scenario whose opinion mattered. And since we were boyfriends for the day, I assumed he wouldn’t mind the occasional harmless display. He gave me a sideways look I couldn’t read, then covered my hand for a second and pushed me away.
My brow creased in irritation. My best intention to do things his way went sideways. Now I was consumed. I had to touch him. As the priest droned on about love, honor, and fidelity, the only thing on my mind was getting closer to the dark-haired beauty next to me. I set my hand back on his knee. He pushed it aside. I waited a minute and tried again. This time he dug his nails into my hand before pushing me away again. I scowled and shook my wounded hand dramatically.
“That hurt,” I whispered.
“I will hurt you for real if you touch me again,” he hissed. “We’re in church. Behave!”
I kept my gaze forward. I wasn’t doing anything lascivious or crude. It wasn’t like I’d put my hand on his junk and groped him in front of God and all three hundred Ruggieris. I sighed and decided to concentrate on the ceremony. The happy couple at the front of the church was holding hands now and exchanging loving glances as the priest read ancient text with a solemnity that reminded me of a wizard conjuring a spell. They looked good together. Sweet.
I wondered if I wanted that someday. I loved that gay marriage was legal now, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever head down the aisle myself. I’d had to do some serious one-eighties in my life. I’d gone from hiding who I was, and sometimes outright lying about my sexuality, to slowly accepting I couldn’t change myself or how I felt. Eventually I got to the point where I wouldn’t change it for anything. I liked being gay. I wasn’t the type to march in a Pride parade, but I was an out and proud gay man. It took a very long time to get here, but I was grateful I had.
I set my hand over Benny’s, just as the newlywed couple kissed and the congregation cheered. I waited a beat, thinking any second he’d let me have it. He didn’t. This time Benny turned his palm and laced his fingers through mine. My pulse went through the roof at the innocent contact. I assumed he’d try to claw me again for my audacity, not hold my hand like a lover. I didn’t know what I supposed to do now. So I just held on.
I MET more Ruggieris at the reception following the ceremony than I’d ever remember. Benny wasn’t kidding when he said he came from a big family. I got the impression they all saw one another frequently so there was no need to recap recent life events. Conversation centered around everyday life and the next big family party. They talked over each other with an easy rhythm that frankly reminded me of my own family. Everyone was very friendly, but there was no mistaking this was a closed group. The only way to gain entry was through marriage. Since that was unlikely to happen, I pasted a smile on my face and made an effort to just enjoy the day.
The only family members I was really curious about were his mother and grandmother. They were the ones he talked about most often. Benny introduced them to me at the reception.
His mother, Gaia, was a pretty, petite woman in her late forties. Benny resembled her in a way. They had the same dark hair, golden skin, and pointed chin. But there were enough differences to make me think he might look more like his father. I mentioned it in passing as he led me to meet his grandmother at the opposite side of the opulent ballroom.
“I think I do, but don’t say it out loud. His name isn’t spoken. Ever.”
I chuckled at his serious tone. “Why? Is he in the mafia or something?”
“I have no idea. I told you I haven’t seen him since I was a kid.” He stopped abruptly to give me a serious look. “This isn’t his family. This is my mother’s. We are Ruggieris. When they divorced, we both took her maiden name. When she married asshole number two, she changed her name again, but I kept mine. In this family, your name is everything. She’ll always belong because she’s Nonna’s daughter. All I have is my name.”
I didn’t expect his impassioned speech, nor did I understand it. “You’re your mother’s son. How does—?”
“Yes, but she’s twice divorced and… I’m gay. We’re the odd ones out here. They love us, but we don’t exactly fit, you know? It’s best to be polite and blend in as best we can.”
“Which is why you’re wearing a purple suit,” I observed sarcastically.
Benny smirked and pulled at my sleeve. “Some things can’t be helped. Come meet Nonna.”
LATER IN the evening, I noticed inquisitive glances when we stood next to each other during the toasts. I even thought I’d overheard a snide comment about Benny and the straight guy who they weren’t sure was even Italian. I thought it was kind of funny. They weren’t hostile by any means, but they were definitely curious. And though we may not actually be a couple, we no doubt appeared to be “together.” I probably fed their interest. I couldn’t help touching him and standing closer than normal. Unlike earlier at the church, he didn’t seem to mind my attentiveness at the reception.
However, the moment the deejay got started, Benny was gone. I backed away from the dance floor and made idle conversation with various cousins. After the second tarantella, I checked the time. This party looked like it could go on all night. I gazed toward the action under the tulle canopy on the dance floor and nodded at something Benny’s cousin Frank was saying. He was a muscled, macho type in his early thirties with slicked-back, dark hair and a cocky attitude. The thick, gold chain and haze of cologne under his perfectly pressed suit screamed salesman… or day trader, I mused as I sipped my martini. Frank was a self-purported stock market enthusiast who wanted to talk my ear off about investments when he heard I worked for a big Wall Street firm.
“I sold all my shares and got the fuck out. Now that stock is trading at fifty fucking bucks! I don’t get it, man. My broker was sure he was right. What’s the secret?”
“There isn’t one. All you can do is pay attention and act when your gut tells you.” I smiled when I caught a glimpse of Benny’s purplish suit in the mass of bodies jumping and spi
nning a few feet away.
Frank looked over his shoulder and then back at me. He shrugged and made a funny face that said a hell of a lot more than words. The rough translation was “my gay cousin is a freak” and maybe something else I wouldn’t like. When he opened his mouth again, I knew I was correct.
“Did you meet our cousin Ella? She’s the one dancing with Benny. They’re about the same age. She’s pretty and she’s single. Ask Benny to introduce you.” He tipped his beer back with gusto, then shook the empty bottle meaningfully before stepping aside.
I don’t know why I didn’t let it go. I’d never see Frank again. I pulled at his sleeve before he could walk away.
“Why would I want my boyfriend to introduce me to someone else? That doesn’t make much sense, Frank.”
He scoffed. “Sorry, but I don’t buy it. You don’t look or act gay at all.”
“Ah… and how do gay men look?”
Frank gave me a lopsided smirk. The condescension and ego he couldn’t hide after a few beers, even at a family wedding, seeped through in that one seemingly harmless gesture. It made me want to fucking pound him.
“Like Benny. He’s a fruit,” he said nonchalantly. “Hey, he’s family and we love him, but it’s hard to take him seriously.”
“Why is that?”
My chilly tone made him blink, but he stubbornly lifted his shoulders with a defiant dismissal that revealed comfortable ignorance. He knew what he thought he knew and wasn’t interested in learning anything else.
“He’s my kid cousin. I grew up with the guy. Benny’s a flamer who wears crazy getups to get attention. Or he colors his hair. Everyone likes him ’cause he’s wacky and over-the-top. The girls especially. Most of the guys just put up with him. But he’s family. That’s what we do.” Frank shook his head in mock despair. “What I don’t get is all that education, and he’s still workin’ at the restaurant. It makes no sense. So excuse me if I don’t fall for the ‘my new boyfriend is a high-rollin’ Wall Street stockbroker’ story. I wasn’t born yesterday,” he assured me with a cocky grin before adding, “Now, if you lisped and told me you were a hairdresser, maybe I’d believe you!”