man-hating phase you’re in, I like having another
couple to do stuff with. Like say…go out for drinks after the
opening of that new gallery on Third.”
“I wish.” Aside from it being humungous, the
gallery would focus exclusively on art using recycled or repurposed
materials. “You need an impossible-to-get invitation to go to the
opening.”
“Do you?” Hillary asked with feigned
surprise. “Well then, aren’t I lucky that Eric just happened to get four of them?”
“Seriously?” Hillary knew I couldn’t wait to
see it, and it wasn’t open to the public for another two weeks.
Since you had to be really well known to show there, I didn’t
bother dreaming about that. But aside from seeing the gallery
itself, getting even one of those buyers to look at my stuff could
catapult my entire career. I grabbed her by the arms. “Oh my god,
Hills, I’ll be the best third wheel you’ve ever had.”
“But I have four tickets, and I really wanted
to go with another couple. Even if they aren’t actually a
couple.”
“If you weren’t smiling right now, I’d be so
pissed at you.” I sighed.
“Please?” She put her hands together and
begged. “Even if you aren’t dating him, you’re spending time with
him, right? Then as your best friend and the person you were hiding
him from, it’s imperative I make sure whatever you’re giving him is
appropriate.”
“Time. That’s all I’m giving him.”
“Great. Then give him some time on Wednesday
night.”
“I’ll mention it to him but there’s probably
a two-percent chance he’ll go. Or less.”
The ticket was mine with or without Carson,
but eventually I’d have to introduce him to Hillary. Plus, I might
need someone to keep me calm at the gallery.
The next time I saw him was Saturday, for
what Carson referred to as his ‘Getting Handy’ class, but which was
actually a chance for him to make a huge mess in my shop while I
tried to get some work done. He did his part while I spent the
entire time distracted by how to bring up the gallery opening.
I stared at him across the worktable, trying
to work out what to say.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to
tell me something terrible?” He didn’t look up from the project he
was varnishing. He’d given up on brushes and neatness and was now
happily finger painting.
“It’s not terrible, but…”
“It’s not good, either.”
“I need to ask you for something that…might
be construed as being against our…Code of Conduct. But I don’t mean
it like that. It’s just…” I slumped back into my chair in disgust.
It was just a gallery opening. “Never mind. Forget I said
anything.”
“Okay.”
I felt a sudden wave of courage hit me and
sat up straight. “What would you say if I asked you—” Courage gone.
Mouth snapped shut.
He looked up slowly. “I’d probably say yes if
the word ‘sex’ was in the last part of that sentence, but if there
was mention of other men, hookers, or animals of any kind, I’d say
no. And then I’d ask if I could watch.” He paused for a second,
studying me. “What are you afraid of?”
I thought of all sorts of words: ‘rejection,’
‘humiliation,’ ‘men,’ ‘love.’ But all I could do was shrug. A
stupid question had suddenly turned into a need for emotional
catharsis.
He leaned towards me. “Lane, everyone has
damage. The trick is learning how to deal with it. When that
doesn’t work, you need to figure out how to push it down really
deep so you can forget about it. To help you with that, I brought a
couple pieces of fruit for my favorite teacher…along with a nice
bottle of tequila and some salt.” A bag I hadn’t noticed was near
his feet. Amusing since, for whatever reason, he didn’t drink in
public.
“Yeah, that would probably help.”
“Or…you could just say it. I’m not sure you
know this, but I have a lot of money and come from a family some
people have heard of. Having a lot of money and coming
couple to do stuff with. Like say…go out for drinks after the
opening of that new gallery on Third.”
“I wish.” Aside from it being humungous, the
gallery would focus exclusively on art using recycled or repurposed
materials. “You need an impossible-to-get invitation to go to the
opening.”
“Do you?” Hillary asked with feigned
surprise. “Well then, aren’t I lucky that Eric just happened to get four of them?”
“Seriously?” Hillary knew I couldn’t wait to
see it, and it wasn’t open to the public for another two weeks.
Since you had to be really well known to show there, I didn’t
bother dreaming about that. But aside from seeing the gallery
itself, getting even one of those buyers to look at my stuff could
catapult my entire career. I grabbed her by the arms. “Oh my god,
Hills, I’ll be the best third wheel you’ve ever had.”
“But I have four tickets, and I really wanted
to go with another couple. Even if they aren’t actually a
couple.”
“If you weren’t smiling right now, I’d be so
pissed at you.” I sighed.
“Please?” She put her hands together and
begged. “Even if you aren’t dating him, you’re spending time with
him, right? Then as your best friend and the person you were hiding
him from, it’s imperative I make sure whatever you’re giving him is
appropriate.”
“Time. That’s all I’m giving him.”
“Great. Then give him some time on Wednesday
night.”
“I’ll mention it to him but there’s probably
a two-percent chance he’ll go. Or less.”
The ticket was mine with or without Carson,
but eventually I’d have to introduce him to Hillary. Plus, I might
need someone to keep me calm at the gallery.
The next time I saw him was Saturday, for
what Carson referred to as his ‘Getting Handy’ class, but which was
actually a chance for him to make a huge mess in my shop while I
tried to get some work done. He did his part while I spent the
entire time distracted by how to bring up the gallery opening.
I stared at him across the worktable, trying
to work out what to say.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to
tell me something terrible?” He didn’t look up from the project he
was varnishing. He’d given up on brushes and neatness and was now
happily finger painting.
“It’s not terrible, but…”
“It’s not good, either.”
“I need to ask you for something that…might
be construed as being against our…Code of Conduct. But I don’t mean
it like that. It’s just…” I slumped back into my chair in disgust.
It was just a gallery opening. “Never mind. Forget I said
anything.”
“Okay.”
I felt a sudden wave of courage hit me and
sat up straight. “What would you say if I asked you—” Courage gone.
Mouth snapped shut.
He looked up slowly. “I’d probably say yes if
the word ‘sex’ was in the last part of that sentence, but if there
was mention of other men, hookers, or animals of any kind, I’d say
no. And then I’d ask if I could watch.” He paused for a second,
studying me. “What are you afraid of?”
I thought of all sorts of words: ‘rejection,’
‘humiliation,’ ‘men,’ ‘love.’ But all I could do was shrug. A
stupid question had suddenly turned into a need for emotional
catharsis.
He leaned towards me. “Lane, everyone has
damage. The trick is learning how to deal with it. When that
doesn’t work, you need to figure out how to push it down really
deep so you can forget about it. To help you with that, I brought a
couple pieces of fruit for my favorite teacher…along with a nice
bottle of tequila and some salt.” A bag I hadn’t noticed was near
his feet. Amusing since, for whatever reason, he didn’t drink in
public.
“Yeah, that would probably help.”
“Or…you could just say it. I’m not sure you
know this, but I have a lot of money and come from a family some
people have heard of. Having a lot of money and coming
Similar Books
