Read Online I'm Your Man by Timothy James Beck - Free Book Online Page B

one he’d done for Lowell Davenport. It would be helpful to have someone manage my home as efficiently as Violet managed my office. Now that Sheila had moved out of my apartment, I even had an empty room. Although there wasn’t much reason for me to stay in Hell’s Kitchen after breaking up with Daniel. I wasn’t crazy about living in an apartment across the alley from him, where looking out my window meant looking at his garden.
    Once Gavin was gone, I stared out at the harbor, feeling restless, though it was nearly midnight. I’d never be able to get to sleep after dredging up my bad memories of Daniel. I decided to get dressed and see if there might be a gay bar or club in the area. Anything was better than moping alone in a strange room.

CHAPTER 3
    A fter pushing my way through the lobby doors, I consciously kept my pace slow and steady. I was in Baltimore, not Manhattan, so there was no reason to rush. I heard a dog barking when I rounded a corner, and I wondered how Rowdy would like living in the Big Apple. I couldn’t imagine Frank turning his dog over to one of the dog walkers who stride down the sidewalks clutching a dozen leashes pulling in different directions like a willful balloon bouquet. Rowdy rarely left Frank’s side, and I was sure that wouldn’t change in Manhattan.
    A pair of men, obviously a couple, walked toward me. They weren’t holding hands, or walking with their arms around each other, but the close proximity they kept, as well as the affectionate eye contact they maintained as they spoke, indicated that they were a couple. Both men were in their late thirties and were dressed similarly in khakis, sweaters, and light jackets. I imagined the two of them in a Dockers ad in The Advocate, with their hands in each other’s back pockets and grins on their faces.
    When they passed me, I could see how attractive they were. One of the men returned my appraisal with a quick wink. I smiled, and I could see his partner give him a playful jab in the ribs to get his attention back where it belonged. After a few paces, I couldn’t help but turn around to look at them. I caught them looking back as well, and they laughed and waved. I waved back.
    I remembered taking long walks through Central Park with Daniel when we were still together. We’d buy coffee and donuts to take with us as we meandered through the winding paths in the park. Daniel would point out certain plants and trees to me, explaining their growth habits and blooming periods. I’d listen and nod, but Daniel knew I’d never remember what he told me. To me, horticulture was like quantum physics; I appreciated it, but knew I’d never use it.
    We’d have our coffee and donuts on the terrace of Bethesda Fountain. Oftentimes we’d tell each other stories and people-watch, since the terrace was a popular tourist stop. Then we’d follow paths deep into the heart of Central Park, walking hand in hand, oblivious to anyone but each other. When we reached the Reservoir, we’d walk along the running trail, mindful of the joggers while we loped along, talking the whole way, until we’d walked the entire distance around the basin of water. Then we’d go home, to his apartment or mine, it didn’t matter, and lie together on the sofa, holding each other until our breathing matched.
    As I watched the khaki couple walk away, I felt a stab of jealousy deep within me. I missed being part of a couple. Standing on a sidewalk in the middle of Baltimore at night, I suddenly felt very lonely.
    I noticed that I was in front of a bar that had several signs with rainbow strips of buzzing neon underneath, around, or unfurling from the names of domestic beers in the darkly tinted windows. An imposing man with several tattoos, who was dressed in camouflage pants, a black T-shirt that looked a few sizes too small for his muscular build, and heavy black boots, stood to one side of the door. I