by Kenna Knight
“So what, he’s just going to leave the country and never talk to me again?”
“I think so.”
“That’s insane. He’s going to give up and walk out on me without so much as a discussion?”
“I know, right? Now listen, this is what I think you should do. I think you should get your sexy British ass on a plane and go to Milan to tell that beautiful, sweet, stupid boy how much you love him.” She’s speaking louder and louder, and she has scooted her butt to the edge of her seat. When Gloria gets excited, everybody knows it—her hands are flying everywhere, and her bright face is full of animation.
“You tell him you don’t scare off that easy, and he better grow a bigger pair of cojones if he wants to be with a real man like Detective Levi Yale!”
She stands and marches to the door, her heels clicking all the way. “I gotta get back to work.” She points a long, red fingernail at the computer on Graham’s desk. “You book your flight there before you leave and get some time off work. It’s a family emergency, you’re husband to be has stupido-itis. You tell your boss that it’s a real thing in Mexico. He don’t believe you, tell him to call me.” Her usually good English goes all Spanglish when she’s bossing me around, and I can’t help but smile.
“You do it?” she asks referring to the trip.
“I’ll think about it.”
Her brow pulls together in a tight-knit frown. “Are you a stupid boy, too?” she asks.
“Well, I hadn’t thought so, but…”
“Ju no go to boo boo, ju a stupido chio.”
“Um, what?”
She lets out an exasperated sigh and looks down at the floor as if to collect herself. “I said, if you don’t go to him, you are stupid. He loves you, and I think you love him. What’s wrong with you two idiots?”
“I do love him, but he asked me to leave last night, and I think by going to Milan early today, he’s made his feelings very clear. He doesn’t want to be with me.”
“Oh dios mío!” she yells at the ceiling when she drops her head back. “He wants you, but he’s scared of what’s happening between you two. Go. Make him understand. No more talking. Go to Milan. You need money? I pay for the ticket.”
“I don’t need money, but I’m going to have to think…” I don’t get time to finish my sentence when she slams the door shut, and I hear it lock from the outside. The outside! Who puts a lock on the outside of an office?
My phone dings, and I take it from my pocket and look at it.
Gloria – I let you out when you send screenshot of booked ticket.
Me – Why is there a lock out there?
Gloria – For stupid men who won’t do what I say.
Me – You do realize you are holding an officer of the law hostage, don’t you? You could go to jail for this.
Of course, I would never get the police involved, but it’s a valid point. She doesn’t respond right away. Maybe she’s Googling the law or asking someone in the salon if I’m bullshitting her, who knows. A few minutes pass, and she messages back.
Gloria – It’s worth the time in jail if you book the flight and go to Milan.
Good Lord, this woman is stubborn. I’m going to have to book the flight just to get out of here. I move the mouse around until the screen lights up and go about making plans for a trip I’ll never take. When I have the final itinerary pulled up, I snap a picture of it and send it to Gloria with a grouchy emoji. Instead of hearing the click of the door unlocking, I get another text.
Gloria – You tell your boss?
Me – That a crazy Latina woman has me locked in an office holding me hostage? No. But if you don’t let me out, I will.
Gloria – No. That you are going away, don’t be sassy.
I’m going to lie. There is no way she’ll know.
Me – Yes, he said fine.
Gloria – Liar! Your boss is a woman.
How in the hell does she know that? My immediate boss is a man, but if I’m going to ask for more than a day or two off, I have to go to HR and ask Missy.
Me – Not true.
I hear the door unlock, and when it swings open, Gloria is waving her phone around. “You better not be messing with me.”
“I’m not going to lie to you, I bought the ticket, but I have reasons for not wanting to return to Europe. I will think about it, I promise, but I’m not sure if I’ll go.”
Her frown softens, and her eyes are filled with concern. I don’t think Graham would have told her about my past, but if he did, and her pity gets me out of this office, I’m okay with it today.
“He needs you. He won’t admit it, but he does. Don’t abandon him.”
No, she doesn’t know my past. If she did, she wouldn’t have used the word abandon. “I’ll call you later,” I say approaching her. She cups my cheek with her hand and looks into my eyes.
“I know you will make the right decision.” She kisses me quick on the cheek and turns on her heels leaving me feeling torn and guilty.
Back at the office, I sit at my desk and contemplate. I don’t know what to do, and whenever I don’t know what to do, I ask Nicky. I dial her number on my landline and wait for her to answer.
“Hey, why are you calling from this phone?”
“I wanted to make sure you’d answer. Sometimes, when you’re working, you ignore me. I’ll bet you didn’t know I knew about that, did you?”
“I don’t ignore you. I’m busy that’s all. So what’s up? Did you say hi to Graham?”
“No. He already left for Milan this morning.”
“What? Why? I thought you said he wasn’t leaving until Wednesday.”
“I guess he wanted to put distance between us a.s.a.p.”
“That must be why Gloria canceled our lunch plans. So, what are you going to do?”
“That’s why I’m calling. She thinks I should go over there and tell him how I feel. She was rather insistent about it. She locked me in Graham’s office and wouldn’t let me out until I booked a flight.”
“Nice, yeah, that sounds like her. So, are you going? I assume you’re not still locked up.”
“I don’t know. He asked me to leave him alone last night, and then he took off to go halfway across the world to get away from me. If that’s not being clear about what he wants, I don’t know what is.”
“Did you mention that to Gloria?”
“Yes, she thinks he doesn’t know what he wants.”
“I think she’s right. We should go.”
“We? Who’s we?”
“You and me, ya twat. I’ll go start packing, what time do we leave?”
I smell a rat. I have a strong suspicion that Gloria is in on this, but I don’t want to fight about it anymore. I’ll go, and when he kicks me to the curb in person, we will all feel like shit, but at least I’ll get some closure.
“The flight leaves at six, but you probably already know that.”
“Whatever do you mean, dear friend?”
“Shut up. I have to talk to HR about time off again and book you a seat next to me. I’ll be home soon.”
I pull the phone away from my ear when she squeals. I didn’t think she would be so excited about going home. “You’re very happy about this trip.”
“I’ve never been to Italy, it sounds exciting! And I haven’t been on holiday since we moved here.”
“I’d rather eat rocks than go across the pond again.”
“Oh stop. Italy is light years away from home. Don’t even think about it.”
“Says the woman who fled the country and swore never to return.”
“That was a long time ago. I’m a different person now, and I’m not going to let my past rule my future. You shouldn’t either.”
She’s right. I do let my past rule my future in more ways than one. Just because things with Neil were a total disaster doesn’t mean they have to be the same way with Graham. I’m going to Milan to tell that fool I love him, and I’m going to demand he stops acting like an idiot.
“All right, let’s go to Italy and kick some sense into that hot Welsh man.”
“That’s my boy! Off with you now, I can’t pack your things. I wouldn’t know which boring knickers to put in your case.”
I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. She’s always been disappointed in my lack of flamboyant style for a gay man. “The black ones.”
“They’re all bloody black!” I laugh at her, and for the first time in the past twenty-four hours, I feel like things might be okay.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Graham
It’s 4:00 a.m. in Milan, and I just landed. My body still feels like it’s 8:00 p.m. California time. I’m not tired, I’ve beat everybody else here, and I don’t want to go to my hotel and sit around watching television until the sun comes up which incidentally will be when I will want to go to bed.
I could nap and try to ease into the time difference, but what fun is that? I’d rather torture myself with no sleep until it’s evening and crash hard for ten hours. I’ve been here several times since I was shipped back home to my parents in horrible shape at age eighteen. The first few times were hard. Everyone hung out at the same places, and I couldn’t risk being exposed to or tempted by an innocent bystander passing a joint around the club.
Now it doesn’t bother me at all. I don’t have the urge to use. The thought of being high repulses me now. I stop at Club 900 where I am positive I will run into someone I know. It’s the hottest nightclub for fashion models, and there is always something happening.
I’m not disappointed when I immediately see Carina and Joseph, friends I’ve worked with off and on for years, dancing on a catwalk high overhead. I order a beer and lean against a brick wall in the packed disco. I keep an eye on them waiting until they tire and start down the stairs to my level.
The music is too loud for my taste—funny, I never used to think that. And there are too many people in here tonight. Every single person is covered in sweat and their clothes, what there is of them, are sticking to their wet skin. No less than thirty people touch me while I try to get to the bottom of the catwalk stairs. Their sweat is all over me. Thirteen hours in a crowded airplane didn’t make me feel as filthy as I do now.
“Hey! Joseph, Carina!” I yell, but they can’t hear me. Ten minutes later after dodging, ducking, and swaying my way through the club, I catch up with them.
“Hey, Carina, Joseph, how’s it going?” I yell when I’m close enough to grab Joe’s arm. “Holy shit!” He reaches out and snags Carina’s hand so she won’t get too far ahead of him.
“It’s Graham!” he yells, and she spins on her stilettos losing her balance and toppling against me.
“Whoa there,” I say righting her while she laughs.
She looks at me with her giant crystal blue eyes that she’s so well known for in the modeling world, and whines in her drunk voice, “Where have you been for so long, Graham? You left us all alone.” She throws out her arms gesturing to the one hundred or so other patrons in the club.
“Yeah, you look really alone, honey. It’s 4:30 in the morning, time to switch to water, so you don’t look like a puffer fish today.”
“You always take care of us. I love you. Please don’t be gay anymore. I need you to marry me and be my husband,” she slurs, and I chuckle nervously. I’m not sure if there’s anything going on with her and Joe, but I don’t need any drama after the week I’ve just had.
“Sweet girl, you have Joe, you don’t need me. Besides I live too far away.”
She sways and rests her head on Joe’s shoulder. He slides his arm around her waist and shakes his head. “Never could hold her liquor,” he says, and I can tell he’s not upset by her drunken declaration of love for me. “What are you doing here, man? I haven’t seen you in a grip.”
“I have a shoot. Just got in, I haven’t even been to the hotel yet.”
“Ahhh, that’s my boy. Party animal in the house! Come on, you have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Oh no, I’m cool. I don’t drink like I used to. Getting old, ya know?” I run my hand through my hair and glance around to avoid the disappointment on his face.
“Okay, ya old geezer, how about some blow? I have some great stuff,” he says patting his breast pocket. Carina’s eyes light up, and she nods in agreement. I take a closer look at her too-thin body and wonder how bad her habit is.
“Nah,” I say pushing up the sleeve of my t-shirt to show him my Narcotics Anonymous sobriety tattoos I’ve been getting every year since leaving treatment. “I have an appointment for my tenth coming up.”
He nods his head. “Sorry, man, I didn’t know. I always thought you were a hard-core partier.”
“Not anymore.”
“Hey, Jules and David are here somewhere. We should find them,” he says changing the subject to my relief.
“I haven’t seen either of them in over a year.”
“Jules left with some whore a couple of hours ago,” Carina says, her voice laced with disappointment that I won’t be joining them in a snowstorm.
We shift around the spiral staircase that leads to the catwalk so others can get by, and I feel big strong arms around my waist and a sexy growl in my ear. “Look what the cat drug in, sex on a stick covered in chocolate tattoos just for me.”
David.
“Hey, we were just talking about you,” I say trying to move out of his embrace, but he’s not having it. He pulls me closer grinding his thick cock into my ass.
David and I used to hook up all the time when we were in the same city together. Even though we haven’t seen each other in a year, he acts like no time has passed at all.
“You miss me? I bet you flew all the halfway across the world just for this, didn’t you?” he says grinding harder. There was a time when I would have done just that. He’s amazing in bed, and he is a sure thing with zero strings attached, but I find myself nauseated at the thought of his hands on me now. I don’t know what to say to him, how to let him down without pissing him off in front of our friends, so I go with a lie that wasn’t a lie until this morning.
“You know that normally I’d go to the ends of the earth for the D’s D, but I’m seeing someone exclusively now.”
He grunts and steps away like I said I have a contagious disease or something throwing up his hands. “You don’t have to lie, man, just say hey, no thanks, not tonight. Geesh.” He never did take rejection well.
“I’m not lying, his name is Levi, and he’s a cop back home.”
David drops his hands and takes one step back toward me. “Back home? As in you left him there, and you are here alone?”
“Yes, but as I said, it’s exclusive. I don’t cheat even when I’m thousands of miles away.”
“When did slam-bam-thank-you Graham get so boring?” David scoffs.
“We all have to grow up someday. I guess my someday is now.”
“Well, I’m horny as hell. Who’s up for an orgy?” David yells, and everyone within earshot raises their glass and cheers. That’s enough for me. I’ve only been here half an hour, and I’ve already turned down coke, a million drinks, sex with a hot ex, and an orgy.
“I think I’ll head to my hotel and get checked in. I’m here for two weeks. I’ll see you all around, okay?”
“Sure thing, man,” Joe says giving me a quick side hug.
“I still love you, Graham,” Carina says mouthing call me.
“Peace out,” David says moving away to direct his cock in someone else’s direction.
I move toward the entrance setting my beer on a table as I go. I’ve never felt so old in my life. Did I use to act like that? That’s a stupid question. Yes, I did, much worse, actually. Drugs and alcohol and orgies don’t hold the same appeal as they used to.
Curling up in my hotel bed watching Netflix sounds pretty damn good now. I hail a cab and go to my hotel to do just that. I don’t even have to lug my suitcase in since the airport brought it over for me. It’s already in my room, so
I stop at the desk for my key and head upstairs with the strangest feeling in my gut.
Anxiety. Well, hello there old friend. It’s been years since I felt the fluttering of anxiety in my chest and stomach, and I don’t like it anymore than I used to. Where is all of this coming from? I did what I wanted to do. I took care of Zoe and got far away from Levi—mission accomplished. So why do I feel so shitty?
Sleep. I need to sleep. Screw trying to stay up all day, I’m going to bed. When I wake up, things will be better. I hope.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Levi
I hate flying. Despise it is a better way to describe the way I feel about locking myself inside a giant metal bird for thirteen hours while we whiz over the open waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
Lost was one of my favorite series on television because it helped me justify my great dislike of flying. I mean, nobody wants to go down on an uncharted island with a giant magnet and a crazy black cloud monster that eats people and animals, right?
Nicky slips her fingers through mine, and I squeeze them so tight she whimpers, but I ignore her pain. We have a deal. I only fly if I can hold her hand the entire thirteen-hour flight. She’s going to want to change her mind when we are halfway across the Atlantic, but it’ll be too late by then.
“You okay, love?”
“No. I hate flying. I said I would never fly again, and here I am doing it for someone who probably doesn’t even care that I feel like my insides are boiling.”
“He cares, just you wait and see. You’ll be so happy you put yourself through this, you won’t give the flight home a second thought.”
I groan and bury my face in her shoulder. “Flight home, don’t remind me that I have to do this again.”
“Well, I guess you could just stay in Italy, but I think the precinct would miss you, and I need you to pay your half of the bills so…”
“I would never stay there. I might take a boat home, but I’m not staying in Europe.”
“We have round-trip tickets, and you’re not taking a boat home. Forget it. Besides, did you forget you get seasick?”
“I did. You’re right, I do. Do you still have those pills for anxiety?”