Why We Fight (At First Sight Book 4)

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Why We Fight (At First Sight Book 4) Page 30

by TJ Klune


  “Together? Oh, I know. But you don’t have to be together to care about one another. And you care about him, don’t you?”

  More than he would ever know. “Of course I do. He’s my friend.”

  Adam smiled. “Can’t have too many of those. We miss him around here. It’s been ages since I’ve seen him. When Stephen told me he was coming tonight, I couldn’t believe it.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “He’s been… busy. We both have. Phoenix House is a lot of work.”

  “I bet it is. And I can’t wait to hear all about it. The others will try and tell you that discussing business over dinner is uncouth, but Stephen believes that when people have their mouths full, it doesn’t allow them to say stupid shit.”

  “Wise man.”

  Adam rolled his eyes. “He has his moments. Follow me, Corey.”

  I did. We walked back into the parlor, which had emptied while we’d been upstairs. He nodded toward a pair of sliding glass doors. Through them I could see a large formal dining room, a long cherry table in the middle under a crystal chandelier. The others were seated. It didn’t look like dinner had begun, though food had been put on the table. There were greens with bright red tomatoes and baskets filled with crispy bread.

  Adam slid open the doors, and Jeremy looked relieved. He stood, pulling out the empty chair next to him. Adam pushed me toward him, and as I sat, Jeremy pushed in the chair, leaning over to whisper in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Don’t leave me alone with them again.”

  I smiled diplomatically as I turned my head to whisper back. “You didn’t do much to stop that from happening.”

  He didn’t respond as he sat back down in his chair.

  The place settings in front of us were expensive, of course, and I wasn’t disappointed when I saw how many forks there were. I was trying to figure out a way I could palm a few without getting noticed when Adam asked what I wanted to drink. “Water is fine.”

  Brad frowned. “You don’t drink?”

  “Water is fine,” I repeated sweetly.

  Adam nodded and disappeared through another door. I saw a flash of a large kitchen before it swung shut.

  “How’d the leather thing go?” Chase asked from his spot next to Brad. Luke and Chad were next to him. Jeremy and I were the only ones on our side of the table. It looked as if Adam and Stephen would sit at either end.

  “It was fine,” Jeremy muttered. He’d been poured a drink in my absence, though he seemed to be nursing it.

  “It was better than fine,” I said, not liking how dismissive Chase sounded. “He did a great job. I was impressed.”

  “You’re into leather?” Luke asked. He looked shocked.

  I shook my head. “No. Not my scene. I don’t think I could pull it off.”

  “Then why did you go?” Chad asked.

  I stared at him. “Because Jeremy is my friend and deserved to have support.” Granted, we’d gone to spy on him and had been foiled even before we arrived, but they didn’t need to know that. “That’s what friends do.”

  “Place looks dirty,” Brad said. His drink looked as if it’d been refreshed, and I wondered how many he’d had. “I’ve driven by it a few times. Bad part of town too.”

  “It’s not dirty,” Jeremy snapped.

  “It wasn’t,” I said. “I’m even thinking of going back.”

  “But you said it wasn’t your scene,” Luke said.

  I shrugged. “It isn’t. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it for what it is. And one of my best friends is big in the scene, and I wanted to support him too.”

  “Charlie,” Jeremy said, smiling tightly “He’s dating my father.”

  “Your father is older,” Chase said, sounding confused.

  “So is Charlie,” I said. Adam returned with a glass of water, and I thanked him before looking back at the others. They were looking at me with strange expressions. I must have missed something. “What?”

  “One of your best friends is old?” Luke asked.

  I blinked. “Yeah. Why? What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing at all,” Adam said, glaring at the men across from us as he sat down at the end of the table closest to me. “People bring in different perspectives from all walks in life. It’s about what they can contribute to our lives, not about the differences in age. Age shouldn’t matter.” He paused, considering. “As long as things are legal, of course.”

  I resolutely did not look at Jeremy.

  Before Brad could respond (and man, did he open his mouth quickly to do just that), Stephen pushed through the doors, carrying a tray filled with well-done steaks. Gross. The others murmured appreciatively as he set it down on the table. He grinned at us as he sat down at the head of the table. “All compliments go to Adam. I’m lucky he’s such a wonderful cook.”

  Adam snorted as I spread the cloth napkin in my lap. “Only because you’d been surviving on frozen meals before you met me.”

  “It’s why you can never leave me,” Stephen said. “I don’t think I could ever go back now that I know what real food tastes like.”

  Everyone began to dig in. Jeremy put salad on my plate without asking. I didn’t say anything because there was a tightness around his eyes and his brow was furrowed. It looked like he was as uncomfortable as I was. I wondered why, given that he knew these people. I mean, sure, a couple of them seemed like assholes, but still. For a moment I thought it had something to do with me, but I dismissed it. He wouldn’t have brought me here if he’d thought I was going to embarrass him. Or at least I hoped that was the case.

  “Corey,” Stephen said as he poured a vinaigrette over his salad, “Jeremy here tells me you’ve been an asset to Phoenix House. I knew you would be. I only wish I could have stayed to see the work you’ve done.”

  Yet another person Jeremy was talking about me to. Dude didn’t seem to be able to keep me out of his mouth. Figuratively. “That’s kind of him to say. I like to think it’s a team effort, though. Everyone working at Phoenix House knows how important the work is. It isn’t just one person. It’s all of us.”

  Stephen nodded. “Everyone seemed wholly capable, Marina especially, seeing as how it was her project. I didn’t get to know them as well as I would’ve liked to, but I knew the center was in good hands when I left. Even more so after I convinced Jeremy to take over for me. But my firm needed me, and I couldn’t say no.”

  Brad snorted. “You mean you couldn’t say no to Andrew Taylor’s money.”

  I froze, the fork halfway to my mouth.

  Stephen sighed. “It’s not always about money, Brad. We’re the best in Tucson, and Taylor knew that. It’s why he hired us.”

  Chase laughed. “He knows you’ll get him out of the shitstorm he created. It’s all about PR now. Maybe you can tell him to give me a call once he’s cleared. I’m sure I can put together a plan to rehabilitate his image. Charity work, some public appearances.” He grinned at me. “Maybe we could even get him to come down to Phoenix House. Take some pictures of him with the kids. It’d look good for him.”

  I set my fork down so I didn’t stab a motherfucker in the face. “Andrew Taylor. As in the former mayor.”

  They must have heard something in my voice because everyone looked at me. “Yes,” Stephen said. “We’re the counsel representing him for his upcoming trial.” He frowned. “Is something wrong?” He looked down at his plate. “Is something off with the food?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “Absolutely not. I just… we probably shouldn’t discuss Andrew Taylor while I’m here.”

  “I agree,” Luke said. “It’s so boring to talk about. Though you gotta admit he’s hot. And Christ, have you seen his sons? I can’t remember their names, but fuck me. Genetics are strong in that family.”

  “Their names,” I said through gritted teeth, “are Vince Auster and Darren Mayne.”

  Jeremy started choking next to me.

  “That’s it,” Luke said. “Vince and Darren. Which one w
as the bastard? I mean, of course someone like Taylor would have fucked around on the side, but—”

  “We really shouldn’t be talking about it,” I said. “Especially since Vince and Darren happen to be two of my best friends. And even though it’s unlikely, I’d hate to create any kind of conflict of interest for Stephen, as I have many, many opinions on the type of man Andrew Taylor is.” I stared at Chase. “And that homophobic asshole won’t step inside Phoenix House as long as I have any say in the matter.”

  “Oh shit,” Luke breathed.

  I took a sip from my water. It was a wonder the glass didn’t shatter in my hand with how hard I was gripping it.

  “Understood,” Stephen said quickly. He looked panicked. Good. He should be. “We won’t mention him again. I’m sorry you were put into that position, Corey.”

  Adam reached over and squeezed my hand. “That’s probably for the best. Not only are we not here to talk about your clients, we don’t want to put our guest into an uncomfortable position. Corey, why don’t you tell us a bit more about your work? What is it you do? What’s the mission of Phoenix House?”

  Oh, the awkwardness was palpable. I appreciated Adam trying to alleviate some of it, but my view of his partner just sunk a few levels. I knew he was just doing his job, but fuck Andrew Taylor.

  Jeremy was recovering, and were we going to have a conversation about that later. I reminded myself there was no way he could have known, given that he didn’t know who Vince and Darren’s father was, but still. That was information I could have used before I agreed to come here.

  I took a deep breath and tried to gather my thoughts. Jeremy and I had gone through some talking points we wanted to get across, but we’d both agreed to try to keep it fluid. I didn’t want this to be like a presentation. The more organic it was, the better it would sound.

  “Phoenix House is necessary,” I said, voice even. “It’s important not only to the LGBTQ community, but it gives younger people a place to go where there’s no judgment and they can feel safe in asking questions they might not be comfortable asking their parents or friends.”

  “And they’re some of the smartest people you’ll ever meet,” Jeremy said, picking up the thread. “They’re savvy and socially aware in ways I don’t know we were at their age.” He glanced at me. “Well, most of us.”

  “And they’re the people who will begin to vote in the next four years,” I continued, knowing I was treading on dangerous ground by going off the planned path but not giving a shit. “They ask questions and know what injustice looks like. It’s important to—”

  “Ah,” Brad said. “So you’re creating an army of social justice warriors.”

  I arched an eyebrow at him. “Is there something wrong with that?”

  He shrugged. “Liberals tend to steamroll over everything to prove their point.” He grinned at me, a condescending thing I wanted to wipe off his face. “No offense intended.”

  That was a lie. He meant all the offense.

  “I don’t understand why we have to bring politics into it,” Chase said as he cut his steak, probably wistfully dreaming of Andrew Taylor kissing babies and rescuing kittens from trees and paying him a couple hundred bucks an hour.

  I wiped my mouth daintily. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because our entire existence is a political talking point?”

  Adam coughed, sounding like he was trying to cover up a laugh.

  “Look,” I said, folding my hands in front of me, “I know we most likely have… different political ideologies, but surely you can see how hazardous the rhetoric currently is. And even then, maybe you don’t have to see what the cost is face-to-face, but we do. We have kids worried about their future and whether or not they’re going to be deported. We have trans kids who wonder if they’re going to be arrested for using the bathroom that matches their gender identity. Some are in foster care, and while they have a roof over their heads, they often don’t have adults they can look up to. Which could lead to even worse situations. Recent studies have shown that LGBTQ kids are at more than double the risk of homelessness compared to their hetero counterparts. And those who identify as both LGBTQ and black or multiracial have some of the highest rates of being homeless. And of those in our community that are already homeless, they report higher rates of harassment and are twice as likely to have an early death compared to others. And don’t even get me started on some other statistics that I could throw at you, like how the life expectancy for trans women of color is thirty-one years. Thirty. One.”

  I sat back in my chair. “And everything we do is to help others and educate our community. It might be as simple as pointing toward a resource or answering questions they might not feel comfortable asking their parents or guardians or foster parents. The work we do at Phoenix House is more important than it’s ever been because we can field those questions, and if we don’t know the answer, we can point them in the right direction. And I will do everything I can to make sure it stays a place where anyone can come to if they need help.”

  “You’re being dramatic,” Brad said. He didn’t like me. I could see that. “Those stats could come from anywhere. And this gender identity bullshit is—”

  “You’re on thin ice,” Jeremy growled.

  Brad flapped his hand dismissively. “What? It’s this PC culture we find ourselves in that’s killing us. Everyone is offended by everything. And I can’t even start to keep up with how many different pronouns I’m supposed to use now. They? Them?” He snorted. “What the fuck is that?”

  “Oh yes,” I said sardonically. “Because it’s so hard to call someone by their correct pronouns. I mean, what is the world coming to?”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “You think you’re so—”

  “I’m trans,” I said, and holy shit, the looks on their faces made this entire fiasco worth it. Oh, Stephen knew, and I bet Adam did too, but the others? Chef’s kiss. Mwah. “Bigender, if we want to get specific. So please. Espouse more about what you call gender identity bullshit so that I can tell you not every man has a dick and not every woman has a vagina. Go ahead. Do it.” I took a bite of my salad. It was delicious.

  Silence.

  “That’s what I thought,” I said after I finished chewing. And even though I’d rather be pretty much anywhere else, I felt strong. Powerful, even. It was fucking gnarly. “But thank you for proving why Phoenix House is something Tucson needs. Misgendering people is a common problem, but one with an easy fix. When I was younger, I thought I was going insane. I thought there was something wrong with me. There wasn’t. I just didn’t know who I was. I figured that out. It took a long time, and if I can help someone else avoid the shit I had to go through, then I will have done what I set out to do. And if it starts with helping others understand the correct pronouns, then so be it. It doesn’t take much effort. Granted, it doesn’t help that racism and transphobia are so prevalent in our community. Not that I’m accusing anyone here of that, but surely you can see how that’s a problem.”

  Brad recovered first, because of course he did. “How the hell can we be phobic anything? We’re gay.”

  I snorted. “Some of the most rampant homophobia and racism come from within the queer community. All you have to do is open up Grindr and see ‘whites only’ or ‘no fems.’ While it’s easy to point fingers, it’s harder to look in the mirror and see our own shortcomings.”

  Chase looked as if he were choosing his words carefully. “I get your point. But you can’t help who you’re attracted to.”

  “Well, no,” I said. “I suppose you can’t. But you can also not be an asshole about it. Though I suppose it does some good, because it shows you who the fuck to avoid. I know I don’t want to stick my dick inside a racist. How about you? Jeremy, could you please pass the pepper? My steak is a little dry.”

  I could feel them staring at me, but I only looked at Jeremy. He handed me the pepper shaker, and his eyes were bright. I thanked him and sprinkled my steak. Steak was disgusting.

&
nbsp; “Corey is right,” Stephen said. “We have it easier than most. It’s easy to forget that.”

  “That’s crap,” Luke said. “We still get looks whenever I hold Chad’s hand in public. Maybe we don’t have it as bad as some others, but we get shit too.”

  “And that sucks,” I said. “I’m not trying to invalidate anything you’ve gone through. All I want you to do is keep in mind that you’re more privileged than others in our community.”

  “Oh, here we go,” Brad groaned. “Seriously. You’re like a cookie-cutter SJW.”

  “And you’re a Republican,” I said with a shrug. “I suppose we all have our faults.”

  “I like you,” Adam said, patting my hand. “You can come back anytime you like.” He glanced at Brad. “Which is more than I can say for others here.”

  “Are you going to let him talk to me that way?” Brad demanded of Jeremy.

  “I think I am,” Jeremy said as he put his arm over the back of my chair. “You’re being a dick, Brad.”

  “You kind of are,” Chase said, eyeing Brad warily. “What the hell is your problem?”

  Brad’s face was red, either with drink or anger, I didn’t know. “My problem? My problem is that I’m being lectured by this fucking trannie—”

  I’d heard it before. That word. More times than I cared to think about. Once it might have sliced me in two. And while I could admit it stung a little, it didn’t have the power over me it once did. I was a goddamn warrior, and Brad had made a fatal mistake.

  I felt Jeremy tensing beside me, but before he could do something stupid like launch himself across the table, Adam slammed his hand down, causing his flatware to rattle and his drink to slosh onto the tablecloth. “Nope. Absolutely not. You dare use that word here? In my house? You apologize, and apologize now, or you get the fuck out of here and never come back.” He held up a hand as Stephen tried to interject, though he never looked away from Brad. “Make your choice, Brad.”

  I thought Brad was going to get up and leave in a huff. I was surprised when he muttered out a halfhearted apology.

  Jeremy didn’t seem to think it was good enough, and he started to rise from his chair. I reached over and put my hand on his thigh, squeezing tightly. He settled, and I left my hand where it was.

 

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