getting out of the bed and going into the bathroom. âHeâs never going to call meâhe was simply being polite and just appreciated a bit of company, thatâs all it was, nothing more.â
But deep down, I couldnât help but hope that he would call me again. As I went through my morning routine, I kept seeing his face in my mind and the way the muscle in his arms moved and his distinctly masculine smell or the sound of the deep hearty laugh when I amused him, which seemed to be every time I opened my mouth.
I turned on the shower and scrubbed my skin until it turned red, washing my hair thoroughly. Youâre only twenty-three , I reminded myself as I scrubbed away, itâs not too late to make changes in my life. No more excuses. Now that I know what I am missing, I can make changes before itâs too late. I can start living instead of just going through the motions.
As I toweled dry in the steamy bathroom, I decided I was going to work on my writing. Even if Valerie was as dismissive or insulting or condescending about it as she always was, I would keep pushing her about her promises to let me write for the magazine, even if it was just pieces for the reviews section without a byline, rather than just sitting around waiting for her to give me an assignment. I could spend time writing on my laptop on my lunch hour, and if I spent an hour writing before going to bed every night rather than wasting time reading things on the Internet, I would get that much closer to my goals.
And I would make myself go out to gay clubs more often, to try to get more comfortable in those environments. I needed to make friends, I needed to find a loverâeven if it was just a casual fling that meant nothing. I needed to lose my virginity, and to do that I had to overcome my shyness.
I could do it.
I had just finished putting on a pair of cargo-style shorts and a T-shirt when there was a knock on my doorâundoubtedly my breakfast. No time like the present to start being more outgoing , I decided as I crossed the room and pulled the door open.
It was indeed the room service waiter, with a black garment bag with the Versace logo on it draped over his arm. He smiled, inclining his head as he pushed the cart into the room, placing the garment bag over a chair.
Curiosity pushed all thoughts of friendliness out of my head.
âWhatâs that?â I asked, indicating the garment bag.
âIt was delivered for you last night, sirâthe concierge asked me to bring it up with your breakfast,â he replied respectfully as he placed a tray containing a covered plate, a coffee urn, a small pitcher of cream, and silverware wrapped in a linen napkin on the small table next to the chair. With a flourish, he presented me with the check inside a leather portfolio, which I signed. He bowed and shut the door behind him.
I poured a cup of coffee and sipped it, pondering the garment bag. Surely, it couldnât beâ¦but what else could it be?
There was a small envelope affixed to the zipper of the bag.
I removed it, and used my finger to tear open the flap. There was a folded piece of heavy stock paper inside. I unfolded it.
Church Mouse,
I hope youâll forgive me for taking the liberty to buy these few things for you. I saw how much you liked them, and it seemed silly that you should have to do without them when I can afford to pay for them. Itâs the least I can do after you so graciously kept a lonely old man company yesterday. I believe your kindness should be repaid with more kindness.
I look forward to getting to know you ever better,
Carlo Romaniello
I almost burst into happy tears.
He wasnât just being niceâhe really did like me!
Unable to stand the suspense any longer, I unzipped the bag. It contained both suitsâthe charcoal and the black. I took them out of the bag and examined them carefullyâthe material felt incredible against my skin, and I hung them up in
But deep down, I couldnât help but hope that he would call me again. As I went through my morning routine, I kept seeing his face in my mind and the way the muscle in his arms moved and his distinctly masculine smell or the sound of the deep hearty laugh when I amused him, which seemed to be every time I opened my mouth.
I turned on the shower and scrubbed my skin until it turned red, washing my hair thoroughly. Youâre only twenty-three , I reminded myself as I scrubbed away, itâs not too late to make changes in my life. No more excuses. Now that I know what I am missing, I can make changes before itâs too late. I can start living instead of just going through the motions.
As I toweled dry in the steamy bathroom, I decided I was going to work on my writing. Even if Valerie was as dismissive or insulting or condescending about it as she always was, I would keep pushing her about her promises to let me write for the magazine, even if it was just pieces for the reviews section without a byline, rather than just sitting around waiting for her to give me an assignment. I could spend time writing on my laptop on my lunch hour, and if I spent an hour writing before going to bed every night rather than wasting time reading things on the Internet, I would get that much closer to my goals.
And I would make myself go out to gay clubs more often, to try to get more comfortable in those environments. I needed to make friends, I needed to find a loverâeven if it was just a casual fling that meant nothing. I needed to lose my virginity, and to do that I had to overcome my shyness.
I could do it.
I had just finished putting on a pair of cargo-style shorts and a T-shirt when there was a knock on my doorâundoubtedly my breakfast. No time like the present to start being more outgoing , I decided as I crossed the room and pulled the door open.
It was indeed the room service waiter, with a black garment bag with the Versace logo on it draped over his arm. He smiled, inclining his head as he pushed the cart into the room, placing the garment bag over a chair.
Curiosity pushed all thoughts of friendliness out of my head.
âWhatâs that?â I asked, indicating the garment bag.
âIt was delivered for you last night, sirâthe concierge asked me to bring it up with your breakfast,â he replied respectfully as he placed a tray containing a covered plate, a coffee urn, a small pitcher of cream, and silverware wrapped in a linen napkin on the small table next to the chair. With a flourish, he presented me with the check inside a leather portfolio, which I signed. He bowed and shut the door behind him.
I poured a cup of coffee and sipped it, pondering the garment bag. Surely, it couldnât beâ¦but what else could it be?
There was a small envelope affixed to the zipper of the bag.
I removed it, and used my finger to tear open the flap. There was a folded piece of heavy stock paper inside. I unfolded it.
Church Mouse,
I hope youâll forgive me for taking the liberty to buy these few things for you. I saw how much you liked them, and it seemed silly that you should have to do without them when I can afford to pay for them. Itâs the least I can do after you so graciously kept a lonely old man company yesterday. I believe your kindness should be repaid with more kindness.
I look forward to getting to know you ever better,
Carlo Romaniello
I almost burst into happy tears.
He wasnât just being niceâhe really did like me!
Unable to stand the suspense any longer, I unzipped the bag. It contained both suitsâthe charcoal and the black. I took them out of the bag and examined them carefullyâthe material felt incredible against my skin, and I hung them up in
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