by Karen Ferry
Rubbing my forehead in frustration, I frown.
Why the hell do I care?
I don’t have time to wonder about Garrett Thompson, or the softness of his hair, or how his beard would feel against my thighs, or –
Stop right there!
I breathe deeply and try to think of something less alarming – and sexy – and then decide to leave the apartment to go find the nearest newsstand. It’s probably best that I’m gone while Garrett finishes his…err…hand job. Less messy and awkward for the both of us.
I have to find a job quickly. My savings are dwindling at at rapid pace, and if I don’t find one soon, I’ll be forced to call home to mum and dad, asking them for their help.
That’s the last thing I want to do.
I don’t need to hear any more I-told-you-so’s from them.
I DON’T KNOW WHY I thought New York would make a difference.
I’m still the same Suzy I was when I left Denmark three months ago; well, I guess I can say that I’ve learned a couple of new things, sexually, but underneath it all – all the noise, the smells, and the enormity that this city is – I have no new answers.
I’m kind of learning to accept the parts of my sexuality that I’ve wondered about for so long, but I know I still have a long way to go yet.
Hey, I’m only 24. There’s plenty of time, isn’t there?
As I walk down the street, I remember how much I really do love New York. I wish I could stay here forever. The reality is that I need money, and fast, because if I don’t find a job, I’ll have to shorten my trip by two months.
I’m not ready to go home yet. Facing my parents, their demands – their contempt for simply living a life that is different from theirs, is disheartening, to say the least.
Shaking my head, I put on my favourite designer sunglasses and zip up my red leather jacket to keep myself warm from the brisk wind against me. The fresh air does me good, and my mood lightens automatically when I spot Safiro’s stall up ahead.
“Hola, chica. Come give me a kiss!” he shouts when he sees me. He waves at me, and I pick up the pace, finally just running towards him.
His arms open wide and I jump, not doubting in the least if he’ll catch me. He always does.
He grunts as we embrace, and laughs, “Easy, girl!”
Laughing, I give him a kiss right on the lips, squeezing him before letting go.
“How are you, Safiro?” I ask him, taking in his outfit. He’s in bright, yellow tights, brown boots, and a long, suede leather jacket. As usual, he’s flaunting the fact that he’s far from what society refers to as ‘normal’, and I love his confidence.
“Oh, I’m fabulous!” He smiles wide, eyes all bright and shining, and I wonder if the reason for it could be the man candy he left with last night.
“Good lordy, that man,” he sighs dramatically, confirming my thoughts. I laugh again when he rolls his eyes and fans his heated cheeks.
“He showed you a good time, eh?” I ask him. He nods enthusiastically.
“You could say that again.” He waggles his eyebrows at me, and I link my arm with his as we turn to his newsstand.
“I’m so happy for you, my friend,” I say, taking the newspaper he hands me.
“We’re going to meet up again tonight after my gig at FBD.”
“That soon? Didn’t you wear him out last night?”
“Giiiiirl…” He pauses, grabs my upper arms and leans into my face. “When you find such a fine specimen of a man, and when he makes you praise the Virgin Mary, even when you’re not a Catholic, three times in one night? You make sure you get another sexathon set up asap!”
“Three times?” I whisper, kind of in awe that it’s even physically possible for a guy to come so many times in such a short time.
“Mm-hmm.” He winks as he releases me, and I smile gently at him. Safiro is like me in many ways: he falls headfirst into love the moment he meets a new guy. But at least he’s only into men, so I guess he has less to worry about than me in some ways.
“What’s his name?” I ask him as I begin to turn the pages to find the ads in the back.
“Dexter,” he answers. I pause, glancing at him.
“Dexter?! Oh, poor guy,” I murmur.
Safiro snickers at me.
“Well, yes, but I just call him Dex or Man Eater,” he says. We start to cackle like old women at the same time.
I wipe a lock of hair away from my cheek and smile gently at him.
“I hope he’ll do right by you, Safiro.”
“As long as he doesn’t go too alpha on me and demands to know my every move, I’ll be fine,” he reassures me.
Safiro has had to deal with lots of weirdos since he started moonlighting as a drag queen at the club Fire Down Below – FDB for short – a year ago; but I’m not exactly worried about him. I know he can take care of himself. The bouncers there always make sure the performers have a ride home, and they even offer to be their chauffeurs from time to time. It’s a cool place, and one I love to go to whenever I’m just out to have some fun.
Safiro is one fantastic dancer! Sometimes, I wish he swung both ways. Then again, maybe our friendship wouldn’t have become as strong as it is if he were bi.
Who knows? I love him as if he were my brother, and I’ll miss him dreadfully when I leave.
“I’ve already marked a few possible jobs for you,” he says, bringing my thoughts back to the matter at hand.
Job hunting. Ugh.
“Oh?” I ask him. I scan the ads quickly, and then stop when I see one highlighted in an extremely bright pink marker multiple times.
“Pole dancer?!” I ask him, narrowing my eyes at him.
He shrugs innocently. “Why not?”
I look down at my flat chest and then point at it. “Errm…I don’t exactly have the right body for it.”
“Oh, darlin’, you have an incredible body! Any guy or woman would get the hots for you if you danced for them.”
I shake my head. “Thanks, but I don’t think so.”
He sighs and scratches his cheek. “What about becoming an escort, then?”
I gape at him, completely lost for words.
“What?” he asks me. “Oh!” His eyes widen, and he smirks at me. “You don’t understand. I didn’t mean the kind of escort that will have you get down and dirty with all sorts of clients.”
“Oh, really?” I raise an eyebrow at him and cross my arms, kind of becoming pissed at him now.
“Lord, no! I know that lots of businessmen are simply looking for some arm candy at different functions. With your hot, Scandinavian looks, you’d fit right in.”
“Are you mad? That’s the worst idea ever!” I almost yell at him, but lower my voice when he frowns at me. “It’s madness.”
“So is losing that gorgeous apartment you’re renting and becoming homeless. New York is not the place for it,” he retorts angrily, which gets my attention.
He’s right.
I inhale deeply and really think about what he’s just said.
An escort…I’ve never even contemplated that idea, because I’ve never had to worry about money until now.
Still…
I sigh deeply and rub my eyes, uncertain and kind of depressed that I don’t have a plan for the future anymore.
“I – I don’t think I’ve become that desperate yet,” I finally answer him.
Safiro kisses my cheek and places an arm around my shoulders.
“Just tell me when, and I’ll hook you up. I’ve got plenty of connections.”
I raise my head and look into his gentle brown eyes. Although I know he means well, this is not exactly the career I envisioned for myself.
What will you do? A mocking voice enters my mind. Where will you go?
I don’t have the answers, as usual. But I’ll be damned if I’ll give up just yet.
I still have time.
Not a lot, but enough.
That’ll have to do for now.
I
change the subject. “Do you have time to grab a coffee? My mysterious landlord came home three months earlier than planned, and I want to tap into that gossip brain of yours. Find out what you know about him.”
Safiro claps his hands in excitement, and does a little booty shake.
“Oooh, interesting! For you, chica, I’ll make the time.”
As he leaves my side to close his stall, my thoughts automatically veer off to Garrett and the way he looked when he was clearly about to jack off in the kitchen earlier.
My cheeks heat up, and I feel warm all over.
Shit…
I’m not going to forget that for a while.
I wonder if he’ll be home when I get back. A part of me wishes that he’ll have left, but the other is excited to see him again.
Holy shit. I’m way in over my head already. I don’t even know the man.
“What do you mean, I can’t crash at your place?” I ask Colin, my soon to be former best friend for twenty-odd years if he doesn’t come through.
“Garrett, you’ve been gone for over three months. A lot has happened while you were away,” Colin says, voice apologetic yet firm.
“Oh?! Please, enlighten me.”
I stand up from my couch centred in my loft and pace back and forth, my right hand fisted at my side, impatient to hear his answers.
Colin sighs. “Well, for one thing, I’m no longer the single friend I’ve been for a very long time,” he says, and that causes me to stop abruptly in my tracks. For the first time in days, I feel warmth return to the ice surrounding my heart.
“Seriously? Good for you, man.” I’m happy for him, I am. Colin deserves happiness in his life after that cheating wife of his walked out on him five years ago.
“That still doesn’t explain why I can’t borrow your guest room for a while, though,” I continue, slightly confused. I’m not used to anyone turning me down, not even Colin.
What I want, I get. Simple as that.
Call it spoiled or arrogant – it is what it is: convenient.
“Of course not,” Colin answers amused. “But Daisy spends a lot of time here, as does her daughter, Clementine. I really don’t have any other room for you. Why don’t you just ask that tenant of yours to sleep on the couch for the duration of her stay?”
I frown. “That’s not exactly the gentlemanly thing to do, Colin,” I grumble, walking slowly to the floor-to-ceiling windows to stare down at the city.
He chuckles. “No, I guess you’re right. Sorry, man. That was an asshole suggestion.” He pauses for a few seconds, and while I wait for him to speak, I notice Suzy down on the street, slowly walking closer and closer. I bend my head, putting my palm to the glass, seemingly drawn to her in the weirdest way, but I refuse to examine it.
There’s a strange kind of defeated air to the way she walks, and my frown deepens. My home is only on the third floor, and it’s easy to make out her face. There’s sadness there the likes of which I have seldom come across. She looks as if the whole world is resting on her shoulders, but she’s way too young for that to be right.
“Listen, Colin, I have to go,” I murmur as I keep watching Suzy. She walks up the few steps and stops at the front door, pulling out her keys from her bag.
“Alright, Garrett. Again, I’m sorry, but the timing is just bad right now.”
“Yeah, I understand.” I hesitate and focus on my friend again. “She makes you happy?” I ask him, voice gruff.
“Yeah,” he answers slowly. I can hear his smile in that short word.
“Good. I’ll come pick up Rufus tomorrow. Later, man.” I press the red button to end the call and my gaze is drawn to Suzy once more.
“Why aren’t you moving?” I mumble, not altogether aware of my talking out loud. Her hand is lifted, keys in hand, but she just keeps staring at the door. Abruptly, her face lifts, and her gaze meets mine. The despondency there confuses me and fascinates me at the same time.
It’s as if her eyes are beseeching me in some odd way – but why me?
We’re strangers in the night, like Old Blue Eyes sang years and years ago.
Finally, she smiles shyly at me before tearing her eyes away. She opens the door to step inside.
I don’t have much time left. I have to think of something.
Mainly where I’ll be staying for the next three months.
I scowl at the inconvenience and curse my own stupidity. It’s my own fault for coming back sooner…I still can’t believe how it could completely slip my mind that my home would be occupied by someone.
“Fuck,” I whisper, pulling out a leather band from my pocket. Tying my hair in a bun, I feel the old self-loathing return to me. I have no business having those thoughts about Suzy, but I blame the alcohol still in my system and the lack of sex for months playing havoc with my libido. This was a one time fantasy alone – nothing more, nothing less. I won’t give in to any like it again; yet, I can’t ignore I feel wired and horny seeing her again.
“Think, man, think…” I walk away from the window and sit down on my leather armchair, next to my bookshelf on the opposite side of the windows facing the street. I grab the first book I see on the coffee table in front of me. I’ve only just opened it when Suzy walks inside.
“Hi,” she greets me. I take in the smile on her lips. It’s unsure, timid, unexpected, and very unlike the confidence she showed me when we met.
I raise my chin at her but remain silent. I know I should act like the sociable host, but the way she unnerves me by her mere presence leaves me tongue-tied.
She takes off her coat and hangs it up on the peg behind the door before walking closer to me.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be here when I got back,” she says as she sits down opposite me on the couch.
“I’ll be leaving soon,” I answer curtly.
“Oh,” she mumbles and sits back. Her entire body seems tense, but then she notices the book in my hand and a smile breaks out on her face.
“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve made good use of your library?” she asks me. The friendliness in her eyes shining back at me makes me less wary.
I relax a bit and then look down at the book in my hand – ‘Hornet Flight’ by Ken Follett.
I meet her eyes again as I shake my head.
“Of course not. So you like books?”
She nods enthusiastically.
“Oh, yes, I do, though I’m mostly into romance novels.”
Frowning, I nod, and we fall quiet again.
“Did you manage to get in touch with your friend about staying there instead of at the hotel?”
“Yes, but he doesn’t have a room available for me like I’d thought. I’m guessing that I’ll just have to stay at the hotel for a while”.
We sit in awkward silence for a long time, looking anywhere else but each other. I berate myself for being unable to put on the polite show I’m so used to at my restaurant.
It must be the hangover. It can’t possibly be because of her.
I’m usually comfortable with silence, but this one is hard to take.
For fuck’s sake, man, get a grip!
“Listen,” Suzy suddenly stands and crosses her arms in front of her. “This is ridiculous. I’ll sleep on the pull-out couch for the rest of my stay, and you’ll get your bed back.”
I don’t like this plan.
“That doesn’t seem right.” I stand up and take a step closer. I try to relax, but I’m coiled so tight that it’s impossible. All I can think about is what it would be like to have her submit to me, which is so fucked up.
“Why not? This is your home, after all.” There’s a spark of defiance in her eyes, and I have to admit that I prefer seeing her like this instead of the shy mouse I just encountered. I may want my women to submit to me sexually, but not all the time, and definitely not this one. Probably because there’s no way in hell I’ll ever let that happen.
Not until hell freezes over, anyway.
However, I have to say that I
’m curious to find out how stubborn she’ll be for pressing this matter, and it makes me eager to push her buttons for some fucked up reason. It’s a heady feeling – and a surprising one.
For fifteen years, I have felt dead inside; yet, it has only taken this young woman a few hours to make me feel anything remotely resembling life. My heart is hammering away in my chest, and anticipation is running through my blood.
Suzy intrigues me. While I refuse to succumb to my needs with her, I can at least try to become her friend and watch out for her for the next few months.
I can be her friend, can’t I?
“Okay,” I sigh and force my body to relax. “I’m not letting you sleep on the pull-out.”
“But –”
“Not. Going. To. Happen,” I interrupt her, my voice brooking no arguments. She must see that I’m not backing off on this, because she nods slowly and her arms fall down to her side.
I bite my tongue before praising her for her acquiescing.
“Good. Now, secondly…” I pause as her body tenses up again, and I can’t quite understand why I feel nervous all of a sudden. “How do you feel about dogs?” I ask her.
She blinks, confusion clear as day in her eyes. “Dogs?”
GARRETT’S QUESTION THROWS ME for a minute.
I love dogs even though I’ve never had one, and I smile brightly at him.
“I adore them!”
He chuckles, a deep rumble resounding from his chest, and I have to work hard not to swoon at his feet then and there. His cold eyes now hold some warmth in them, and the tension in my shoulders slowly ebbs.
Damn. He just has to have a dog, doesn’t he?
“Good. Because I have one, a brown Labrador, and I’m picking him up from my friend’s place tomorrow,” he says, walking past me when the doorbell rings.
“It must be my bags,” he mumbles.
I’m slowly becoming more at ease while in Garrett’s presence, even though I only just met him this afternoon – I mean, a dog lover can’t be that bad.
I walk leisurely to the kitchen to get a bottle of water from the fridge.
