by Karen Gordon
He was surprised how immune he was to her emotional manipulation now. “I’m not hurting her by not holding her. Her father needs to hold her.” He turned and walked into the bedroom with the trash bags he had brought to throw his clothes in.
Amanda put Meggie in the swing and turned it on, then followed Steve. He was throwing anything he saw that was his into the bags. She had probably hid some stuff, things he wanted most, so she could call and have him come back to get them. He was going to have to search the place before he left or just write some stuff off.
“She seems to like the swing today.” He peeked around the door at a very calm Meggie. She looked at him with her big brown eyes, and he almost lost it. Damn, he hoped Trey did right by her.
“We need to talk.”
He was under the bed now, looking for stuff she had hidden. “Nothing to talk about.”
“I didn’t know.”
He rolled out from under the bed with his favorite leather jacket in his hands and held it up to her. “Yeah, I know. You didn’t know she was mine, but you let me think that. You wondered all along, but you never told me.”
She rolled her eyes at the jacket and his accusation. “We were happy.”
“Based on a lie of omission--a huge lie of omission.” He put the first full bag near the door and went back to fill another, and she followed him around for the next forty-five minutes as he checked every nook and cranny for stuff she might have hid. He didn’t own much, but she was sneaky and determined.
She picked up Meggie and kept following him when he started carrying bags down stairs and throwing them in the bed of the truck. “I can’t believe you would do this to us.” She said it loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. Steve recognized this as her make-a-scene technique. It was the one he hated most, but he was determined to ignore it. So he kept moving, carrying stuff down the steps and filling the back of the truck. She continued berating him for leaving them in a way that made it look like he was abandoning her and their newborn.
On his last trip upstairs. he reached into her purse and grabbed her car keys before she could stop him. She ran fast to try and get in front of him, because she knew where he was headed. Still holding Meggie, she stood in front of the trunk. “Stay out of my shit,” she yelled. He knew he had hit pay dirt. He had one box he carried with him that had his high school diploma, yearbooks, birth certificate, etc. That had to be in there, because it wasn’t in the apartment.
He tried to work around her and not push her at all because of Meggie, but she stood firm. An older couple pulled up and started watching the melee.
“Move. I know you have my paperwork in there.”
“Don’t push me.” She yelled for the couple to hear.
The man approached. “Is there a problem here?”
Amanda put on her best sad face. “No, we’re fine.” She turned to Steve and motioned to the trunk. “That stuff is mine. We need it.” She held the baby up.
And so it went for another half hour until the man called the cops. When they arrived, they opened the truck, and Steve was able to show them that all the stuff inside the trunk was his. It all had his name on it.
Amanda wasn’t going down that easy. She told the cops that his truck was stolen and he was probably on drugs. In the past she might have gotten away with it, but he had the registration for the truck, and he was too calm and lucid for the cops to believe the drug charge--especially from a frantic, jilted lover.
♪ ☺ ♥
That was the end of Amanda in his life, but it was also the end of his job. He was over an hour late for work because of the time he spent with the cops in the parking lot.
He was majorly pissed so he called MG before he drove off and did something stupid, like go back to his dealer’s house. “Hey.”
“What’s up? You sound pissed.”
Just hearing her voice helped. He breathed out and relaxed a little. “I spent the day getting my stuff from Amanda’s.”
“Oh.”
“And I just got fired.”
“Oh. She made you late.”
“Yeah … three years at this shit hole, down the drain. I can’t use them as a reference now.”
“But, I mean, do you want another warehouse job?”
“No.”
“So, maybe you don’t need it. What do you want to do?”
“I have no idea.”
“I know, me neither.”
That surprised him and made him feel a little better. “But, I mean, don’t you have a major?”
“Undeclared – don’t have one.”
“Didn’t know you could do that. Interesting. So, neither one of us knows what we’re doing.”
“We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year.”
“Pink Floyd–Wish You Were Here.” She was testing his knowledge of song lyrics to take his mind off his problems.
“You’re good.”
“Yeah, too bad I can’t get paid for that.”
“Game show–that’s it. You could go be on game shows.”
He laughed. It was such an MG life solution. Nothing was solved but he felt so much better after talking to her. They hung up after “I love yous” and promises to talk tomorrow. He felt surprisingly OK considering the day he had had. Amanda may have trashed his luck for today, but she was gone, and he had MG. And they may be lost souls, but at least they were lost together.
♪ ☺ ♥
A few weeks ago he would have gone to his dealer’s house and gotten high or Chuck’s and gotten drunk and stoned after a day like this. Not today. He thought about his options now. He could go to Casey’s or Gina’s, or go to his dad’s place.
He decided he wanted to be alone, maybe take a long drive. Coeur du Monde lake would be a hour and a half round trip. That sounded perfect. Now that the sun had set, there was a chill in the air. He put on the jacket he kept in the motorcycle saddlebag and looked in the pockets for any gloves. There were none, but there was the business card Bryce had given him. He read it for the first time.
KAUFFMAN INTERIORS
The address was in a nice, older part of town–all refinished lofts and restaurants and clubs. It wouldn’t be too far out of his way to drive by and look at it, see if it really was legit.
The sign on the front matched the card. That was good. Maybe he’d give them a call tomorrow. He turned into the parking lot to turn around and saw a truck with their logo on it backed up to a loading dock. He could just make out the shadow of a man carrying lamps and boxes from the building onto the truck. He pulled up along side the truck and the man stopped working.
“Can I help you?”
Steve held out the business card. “Bryce sent me. Said you needed some help with truck loading.”
The guy jumped off the dock to take the card, looking Steve over. “Bryce, huh? You a friend of his?” There was surprise in his voice. “Or was he hitting on you?”
Steve chuckled. “Maybe the second.” The guy nodded and Steve offered his hand, “Steve Shrader.
“Robert Kauffman.” He shook Steve’s hand.
“You own the place?”
Robert turned to look at the building. “Owner, truck loader, driver, decorator, accountant–I do it all.”
“So, you need some help? I can drive and load.”
“You busy now?”
He caught Steve off guard. “Uh, no.”
“I’ll give you fifty dollars cash to help me get this stuff loaded now.”
He was off his bike quickly. “Just like that?”
Robert nodded.
Steve liked this guy’s no nonsense style. “Let’s do it.”
♪ ☺ ♥
Nothing was very heavy, so it was easy work. Robert checked stuff off on a list as Steve loaded. While they worked, they talked about the business.
“Todd, my partner, has all the decorating talent. He’s on a buying trip in LA right now. I’m mostly the business end.”
The way Robert said “
partner” told Steve that Todd was both a business and life partner. Interesting. If Steve had to pick a gay guy out of a line up, he would never have picked Robert. He was somewhere in his forties and pretty average looking, except he was in better shape and dressed better than most men. He sure as hell didn’t look like Bryce.
“So where does Bryce come in to all this? He work for you?”
Robert laughed, and shook his head. “Bryce is a trust fund baby. He was also our first customer when we opened. We knew him from, well just being around St. Louis. He doesn’t work, ever.”
This was such a foreign idea for Steve. “Ever? What does he do all day?”
“Hand out my business cards.”
Steve stopped short, feeling like he had actually been set up by Bryce, and Robert was just being nice about it.
“To potential clients.” Steve relaxed and went back to loading. “And occasionally he uses them to flirt.”
Damn. His instinct had been right. “Look. I’d like the job. But I’m not …”
Robert laughed. “I know. It’s just Bryce. He has a thing for straight guys. Thinks he’s so hot he can turn them. But, he’s also a pretty good judge of character, and a genuinely nice guy. I’ll give you a shot.”
Steve started working again, relieved. “I have a girlfriend.”
“I bet you do.” Robert looked him over but not in a creepy way. “Don’t take this wrong, but my gay and women clients would love to see you making deliveries to their houses. I imagine that’s why Bryce told you to call me.”
Steve shrugged it off. “Hey, if it gets me the job.”
When they finished, Robert locked the loading dock and truck doors. “Can you be here tomorrow at nine to help deliver this stuff?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Good. Once we get back you can fill out an application, and we’ll see about making you official.”
Steve shook his hand on the deal then headed home to get some sleep. His body was still on night shift time, and he needed to adjust.
He parked the bike on the grass in front of his dad’s apartment. Before he went inside he took off his helmet and looked up at the clear night sky. There were so many stars. He looked for a bright one, one that stood out, and he thanked it. He figured that one must be MG’s.
Chapter 25
When he woke up he was disoriented again, for a minute. Every day that Steve woke up in his new bedroom was a little disorienting. His first day there he got up and was sure he must have had a one-night stand with some rich girl, until he looked around, realized he was alone, and remembered. He lived with Bryce now.
And it was one sweet deal, temporary, but sweet.
He had been working at Kauffman Interiors for a week when Bryce offered to let him rent one of the unused bedrooms in his condo. He lived alone in an overly decorated three-bedroom condo in Ladue, one of the wealthiest parts of St. Louis. At first Steve declined, but a week of driving forty-five minutes to work and back, in traffic, changed his mind. The condo was paid for, so Bryce charged generously low rent on a furnished bedroom with its own attached bathroom. Which worked for Steve, who had no furniture, and Bryce, who would never allow stuff in his place that didn’t coordinate with his décor.
Every evening as they were closing up Kauffman’s, Bryce would stop by to hang out with the working people. He would observe that strange thing called labor and entertain Robert, Todd, and Steve with the story of his day. Because when you are Bryce, each and every day is an adventure.
Sometimes he brought food, because he had found the most fab-u-lous new restaurant and they had to try it. Other day’s he brought cocktails. His hobby was trying new drink recipes (it was his form of cooking). This entailed not only the drinks, but proper barware, real cloth napkins, and the correct garnishes all packed neatly in a five-hundred-dollar designer cooler. If he went clothes shopping that day, they got a fashion show, and if something he had ordered online came in, they all had to be present for the unveiling as he opened the box.
He was damn funny, and he made Steve laugh. Bryce continued to flirt with him, but Steve figured out that he was only half serious and never going to do anything about it. Bryce liked to cast his net wide and then wait for men to approach him. He’d be waiting a loooong time for Steve.
On Friday afternoons Robert would rearrange and replace the furniture in the showroom, or more accurately, Steve would move everything to where Robert and Todd told him to put it. Bryce liked to cheer him on.
“Could you do that without your shirt on?” He sipped his Navy Grog from his authentic tiki glass, pushing the paper umbrella aside so it didn’t poke him in the eye.
Steve ignored him and lifted a chair over his head so he could get it through the maze of furniture to the back room.
“Bryce, god-dammit, would you leave him alone.” Todd was trying not to choke on the combination of three rums in the drinks. “He’s gonna own this place, if you keep sexually harassing him.”
“He can’t sue you because I don’t work here.”
“Because you don’t work,” Robert pointed out. “Can you move your tiki bar to my desk? I need to change out the chairs at that table.”
As Bryce moved his tropical-print bar cloth, supplies and large cocktail thermos, Steve picked up two chairs to move them to the back. Bryce smiled appreciatively at the way he looked when he worked. “You’re doing a great job.” He held a glass of Grog up to Steve and positioned the bendy straw so he could get a drink with his hands full.
Steve took a long sip and smirked at Bryce’s comment. “Thanks. Hey, those are pretty good. Better than the stuff you made last week.”
Bryce wrinkled his nose at him and sighed. “Why can’ t you like dick.”
On his way into the back room, Steve shouted back, “I like my dick.”
Robert and Todd both laughed at how unflappable he was.
“Yeah, but it’s not like you use it. Guy or girl, it’s just a shame to waste all that.” Bryce gestured at Steve carrying two new chairs to the display table.
“I told you, I’ve got a girlfriend. She’s in New York.”
“Yeah, yeah, the mythical girlfriend. What was her name?”
“MG.”
“So this MG, what’s she got to keep you on such a short leash?”
Steve placed the chairs and took another long drink of his Navy Grog. “She’s …” He shook his head, trying to find the words to describe what she meant to him. “She’s got everything.” He shrugged. “Including me, if she’ll have me.”
Bryce grabbed Steve’s arm as he walked back toward the storage room. “If she’ll have you? What the hell? What’s wrong with her? Why would she not want you?”
Steve pushed past him, out of the room. The drinks were stronger than they tasted, and he his tongue was about to get too loose.
He pushed past Bryce again when he came back in the room with the last of the new chairs.
“Is she some New York rich bitch?”
“Kind of like you?” Todd tried to deflect the attention off Steve, because he looked uncomfortable now.
“Shut up. I’m not some rich … well, maybe I am, but I’m not from New York.”
“She’s not rich or a bitch,” Steve cut him off. “She went to high school with me. We were friends … then she left, went to New York.” He took another long drink of Grog. “She was smart enough to get the hell away, only now …” He paused when he realized they had all stopped what they were doing and were watching him.
“Only now you want her back.” Todd hit the nail right on the head. Steve just nodded. He and Robert pulled the table apart so they could add a leaf to accommodate the new, larger chairs. The room was too quiet.
“So, what do we need to do to make this happen?” Bryce was ready to take Steve on as his new pet project--a way to fill his time and spend his money.
Steve smiled a little at his enthusiasm, but shook his head. “A lot, maybe too much.”
“Bullshit.” Bryce was n
ot going to give up on his new project easily. “Let’s see, you’ve got the looks and the body …”
Steve laughed, “Doesn’t count for much. I need a steady job, with a future, a car, a place of my own …”
“What kind of job?” Robert was getting interested in the conversation now. “What do you want to do?”
“Don’t know. I worked at the warehouse since high school. That was going nowhere fast.”
“You’re a hard worker, maybe you could figure out a way to open your own business. Nothing better than working for yourself.”
Steve smiled at Todd’s obvious over-confidence in him. “Thanks, but I don’t know anything about running a business.”
Robert dropped the stack of paperwork he was holding on the table. “Funny thing, I think I know a place where you could learn a few things about how a small business works.” He scooted the stack over in front of Steve. “These are the invoices for this week. They need to be entered in the computer and filed.”
Steve checked to make sure Robert was serious.
“If you can come in on Sunday morning, I can go over our accounting system with you, get you started.”
“Yeah, sure.” Robert talked like he was one hundred percent sure Steve could do this, and his certainty was almost overwhelming. No one had ever seen potential in him.
“Good.” Robert left the stack of paperwork in front of Steve and went to find his cocktail.
♪ ☺ ♥
Turning in four B’s and one A earned MG the European tour job from Randy, and a round-trip ticket to St. Louis so she could visit Steve over the Christmas break from her mom.
She talked to him on the phone every day, but she was in desperate need of some Steve TLC. And she also wanted to meet all the new people in his life, like his roommate and the people he worked with at the decorators. He told her stuff that happened at work and had described Bryce and Robert and Todd, but it wasn’t the same as being there in person.
When the forecast called for a major snowstorm on the day she was to fly out, she ignored it and had her mom take her to JFK anyway. If she didn’t get the flight she had booked, she would get another. She had a week before she had to be back at school, and she was determined she would spend at least part of that with Steve.
