American Fairytale (Dreamers)

by Adriana Herrera

I’d gotten other good offers, including the one which I’d told myself when I applied to it that I would take over any other, UC Berkeley. From the beginning of my search I’d said I wanted an urban area. That living in a rural area as an out black gay man would involve too much low grade stress to justify the move, even if it was a prestigious school.

  And yet, here I was.

  I sighed again, my lips still sealed while Nesto kept doing shit on his iPad giving me the time he knew I needed. I wondered if he suspected my mind was stuck on Easton Archer.

  He was so fucking fine; seeing him last night was sobering. Everything inside of me seemed to realign when I was around him. Easton made me feel like I was the center of the universe, like I could be however I wanted and he’d be into it.

  Being myself in front of people I didn’t know was not easy for me. Even with my friends I was closed off and guarded at times. I was always on the lookout for what was up, mindful of the space I was taking. Aware of all the different ways people were looking at me. How I was coming off, and the assumptions people were making about me.

  A black man had to always think about the space he was in.

  Most of the time it seemed like people were looking right through me. Not Easton. He looked at me, like my friends and my mother looked at me. Like he could see all of me. The me on the outside and the me on the inside, and that fucking scared me. There was too much I didn’t want to be seen so clearly. That the zen thing I tried to go for, the slow movements and the soft voice, were just my way of keeping the almost overpowering frustration I constantly felt from coming out.

  Easton was so lighthearted, like he’d never known pain. The guy’s job was to prosecute SVU cases, I knew he saw heinous shit day in and day out, and yet his face was always as open as a blue sky. No hurt, no bitterness. Such certainty everything would be alright. That if you fought the good fight you’d take the day. Like he could show what he felt and didn’t fear anyone would come back later and use it against him.

  I didn’t know what to do with that.

  Me, I was painfully aware of what it took for me to get the job I had. What I’d had to do, ignore, let go of, overlook or just bury down until it burned out in my gut. I could work ten times as hard as anyone else, get as far ahead as possible, and the feeling like it could all be taken away was ever present.

  That was a heavy burden, one that I never seemed to shake off. Which was why I didn’t let my emotions get the best of me. Closeness was not something I could do easily. I’d practically given up on getting it from anyone other than my best friends and the few family members who continued to speak to me after I came out.

  Until last summer and Easton. As soon as I set eyes on him walking towards Nesto’s truck, those impish green eyes and that perfect smile lured me in. I was still trying to let go. With Easton it was like my heart and my body were working together to override my entire approach to life.

  “Dude, you look mad emo right now.” Nesto’s reproachful tone pulled me out of my fretting. “I’ve been standing here for five minutes waiting for you to talk. The fuck, Patrice?”

  “Sorry. Just got distracted. Yeah, I gave Jude a ride, so he needs one of us to drive him back home.” At the mention of his partner, Nesto’s face lit up.

  Jude had changed Nesto in so many ways. He and I had always been the intense ones in our foursome. Nesto, Camilo, Juanpa and me. Like me, Nesto had never made time for romance or indulged in situations that could end up messy. But here he was, he’d taken huge chances when he’d left the city to come here. He’d put it all on the line with his business and his heart, but it had paid off. Here he was living with a man he loved. His whole life on a different track.

  I wanted to talk with Nesto about seeing Easton. I knew I needed some advice, but still couldn’t make myself open my mouth. Why was is it so hard for me to talk about this stuff? Nesto was like my brother, we’d seen each other through everything. Why couldn’t I open up to him about this?

  Before I talked myself out of it, I did it. “I ran into Easton last night.”

  Nesto just shook his head at me like I confused the fuck out of him. “Oh. How’s he?”

  I knew the smile on Nesto’s face when I mentioned Easton was genuine. Easton had been a good friend to Nesto since he’d arrived in Ithaca. My friend looked out the window, his eyes trained in the direction of the county courthouse where the District Attorney’s office was. “He’s been busy since he started the interim DA gig. Hasn’t stopped by as often. He usually comes here for lunch a few times a week.”

  I shrugged, feeling stupid, because I wanted to spill my feelings all over this floor and that was very far from the norm for me.

  “He was fine. It’s not like we had a heart-to-heart,” I said, lifting a shoulder like an asshole. “I was getting some snacks to bring to the office and he stopped by and said hello. We only chatted for like five minutes.”

  Nesto just stared at me, unbothered, waiting for whatever else I was going to say to come out of my mouth. After fidgeting with my pocket square and generally acting like a preschooler, I finally said it. “He said his building had some vacancies when I told him I was still waiting to move into my rental.”

  Nesto’s eyes widened at that. Like I’d just told him the best news he’d heard in a while.

  “I actually thought about him, he told me he’d been fixing up those two units after the tenants left. He wanted to do something to the floors.”

  He must have noticed the confused look on my face, because he angled his head before asking cautiously, “He didn’t tell you he owns the building?”

  Why would Easton “forget” to mention that?

  “No, he sure as fuck did not tell me he’d be my landlord! You know what, forget it.”

  Nesto was not done, though, he flipped his hand and pointed two fingers at me. “He probably didn’t mention it because you would have told him no and pulled that judgmental stank face you’re rocking right now at him.” Nesto twisted his mouth to the side before really going in.

  “P, what the fuck is your deal, dude? I mean I know why you may be all cagey with him, but why are you doing this shit with me? Come on, son. Even if you won’t admit to your damn self, I know your ass is up here at least partly because you’re thirsting after his dick. Don’t deny, because I know the jobs you turned down to take this one. Not that I’m not fucking elated to have you here, because you know I am.”

  I frowned as he spoke because he was telling the absolute truth.

  “Okay let’s say it’s true. Let’s say I do like him, what am I going to do with that, Nesto? I have literally spent the last ten years of my life thinking about how the system that Easton works every day to uphold is weaponized to keep people like me in chains. How do I reconcile that? I mean really, I’m asking, because I have no fucking clue how to do that.”

  Nesto sighed and looked at me like I was too fucking difficult to deal with this early on a Monday.

  “I don’t know, pa. I got no pearls of wisdom to bestow upon you,” he said wearily. “All I know is, life is too fucking short—and frankly fucked up—to dismiss someone who makes you happy out of hand, just because your jobs put you at odds. I mean what do you really even know about Easton? Other than he’s fine as fuck and a generally pleasant guy.” He was ticking his fingers at this point. “And that he can obviously work his dick in a way that totally does it for you.”

  I rolled my eyes at that and Nesto chuckled holding up his hands to concede some kind of point.

  “I know you’re gonna keep agonizing over this, and I understand it’s more than your jobs being at odds. Being with a man like Eason feels like compromising. I get that. I know it’s not anything to take lightly or minimize. So take your time and do what you need to. But just chill out a little, okay? Let your guard down for once. Some people are worth sacrificing certain things for.”

  The beat
ific look on his face let me know Nesto was probably talking about Jude. They’d worked hard at their relationship and their devotion for each other was plain to see. Getting together hadn’t been easy for them either. Jude had a hard past which had made the early stages in their relationship complicated, and Nesto almost let his workaholic ways ruin things for them, but they’d powered through it. Nesto had the life he always dreamed of.

  He knew what he was talking about.

  I dipped my head, acknowledging he had a point. “I know certain people are. I appreciate you understanding that things are complicated and I will try to take your advice and let my guard down a bit. At the moment, I’m not feeling ready though. I need more time to get my bearings here, get a feel for my department, and the fuckery I’m sure is happening there. So Easton will just have to be on hold for now.”

  He threw his hands up again, like he knew I wasn’t going to budge an inch.

  “You do you, P. We here if you need us. Let me throw you a bone by changing the subject.”

  I laughed. “Sure.”

  He looked back towards the kitchen to where Ari, who was now an assistant manager at the restaurant, was standing.

  “Ari wants to ask you if you would be his mentor. Nothing too deep, just some advice on school and what to do after he’s done.”

  The warmth in my chest at what Nesto said was a surprise. I’d never really done that before, and had no clue anyone would consider me as someone they could get mentoring from.

  “Really? I thought he wanted to be a lawyer? I’m an economics and public policy guy.”

  Nesto shook his head. “That’s the thing, he’s getting interested in the stuff you do. He read your dissertation paper on distributive justice and he’s been all over it. Also he’s obsessed with your Twitter game.” He shook his head with a baffled look on his face, like he was talking about a deep and dark world that he had no clue why anyone wanted any part of. Nesto was not the political one in our foursome.

  “Ari’s deep into black Twitter now, follows all the dudes you’re on there pontificating with. It doesn’t matter though. Whatever he ends up doing, I think it’ll be good for him to have someone he can talk about stuff with.” He flattened his lips, worry furrowing his brow. “He’s on his own out here. All his family is still in the Congo, other than his uncle, who as far as I can tell is a raging homophobe. And that’s a problem, since he’s been making noise about coming out to him.”

  He looked towards the kitchen again. “No pressure man, of course.”

  I shook my head, already feeling really compelled to do this for Ari. He was such an impressive young man, and had overcome so much. He’d come to the States as a refugee from the Congo and ended up in an immigrant detention center for almost two years, before they let him go without ever giving him a reason for why they detained him in the first place. It would be an honor to support him. I nodded at Nesto and lifted my hand towards where Ari was busy checking things off from a clipboard.

  “I would be happy to. I’m not sure how useful I’ll be, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”

  I noticed that Yin, who like Ari had been one of Nesto’s original employees, was standing a lot closer to Ari than a coworker would. Yin was petite, his delicate features serious as he worked with Ari.

  Ari was a lot taller and bulkier than Yin. His ebony skin a contrast to Yin’s milky complexion. Their bodies were comfortable next to each other though. Like lovers. Nesto must have been able to tell what I was thinking because he just glanced at them and shook his head with a fond smile on his face.

  After a moment Nesto hollered for Ari. As soon as he was within reach Nesto slapped him on the back. Ari looked at him like he was his hero.

  “Ari, come and talk to Patrice. He’s down with mentoring you.”

  The young man’s face lit up before looking a little embarrassed.

  “Boss man, I asked you not to say anything.”

  Nesto shook his head and laughed. “Why, man? How’s he going to know you want him to mentor you if we never say anything?”

  I intervened before Nesto embarrassed the kid any more. “I’d be honored to, Ari. I’m not sure how much I can actually mentor you on, you seem to have your shit more than together. But whatever you need, let me know.”

  “Thank you, Patrice. That would be great. I have a lot of questions.”

  “Sure. I have to get going, but Nesto has my number. Send me a text and we can set up a time to talk. I’m interested in hearing your plans, Ari. Nesto said you enrolled at Cornell this semester. Good for you.”

  He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I’m only taking two classes, but it’s going well.”

  “Great.” I waved at Nesto, who had gone behind the counter to do some work. “Catch you at home, Nes.” He nodded with his eyes focused on the screen as he waved his hand over his head. I moved in to give Ari dap and then made my way out onto the street.

  I walked to my car feeling lighter than I’d been a half hour before, Nesto’s words about giving things with Easton a chance floating in my head.

  Don’t miss American Love Story by Adriana Herrera, available October 2019 wherever Carina Press books are sold.

  www.CarinaPress.com

  Copyright © 2019 by Adriana Herrera

  Author’s Note

  New Beginning is not completely fictional and neither is the work that Camilo and his coworkers do. Domestic Violence is considered a public health issue by the Center for Disease control.

  No matter where you live or who you are, there are people in your community, people you know, who are experiencing this type of violence. In those same communities there are organizations working tirelessly to support survivors on their journey to safety.

  If you’d like to support your local domestic violence social services agency, here are a few places where you can learn how to do so.

  www.DomesticShelters.org

  www.TheHotline.org

  Acknowledgments

  Somewhere in the middle of writing Camilo and Thomas’s book, I realized that I was not only writing love stories centering Afro-Latinx life, food, culture and queer communities—I was also writing a love letter to Latina mothers. The strength, resilience and fierce love of immigrant women, are at the center of what make our communities push forward. They continue to be the place where we come to find our strength and to rest our heads. I’m so honored that my stories can offer a glimpse of how mighty Latina women are.

  Getting a book ready for the world can be quite a journey, but I have been so lucky to have so many amazing people with me along the way.

  I am so grateful for:

  Kerri Buckley, my editor, for helping me get these stories to exactly where I need to take them. We continue to be an awesome team!

  The Carina PR and Marketing team, for all your support getting my stories out there.

  Linda Camacho, my agent, for everything and especially for your book naming prowess. Camilo, Tom and I thank you. I can’t even remember what titles I came up with, but your suggestions were perfect.

  My writing community. Alexis, Harper, Kate, LaQuette, JN, Tere and Rayna. I can’t even imagine what my writing journey would be without you guys.

  My partner and my girl. The love, support and enthusiasm I receive from you both is everything.

  Thank you to my beta readers—Tina and Elsa—for your encouragement and your generosity.

  To JC Lillis and Lydia San Andres for your kind words and sound advice. Camilo and Tom’s story is that much stronger because of you.

  Finally, thank you to Harlem and the Bronx. I always dreamed of writing a love story that took place in the parts of New York City that gave me and my people a home in New York. The Bronx was the place that harbored my aunts when they left DR in the sixties to come to the States, and the place I spent summers growing up. After I’d made my own pa
ssage from the island thirty-five years later, Harlem was the first place in New York City that made me feel like I’d landed in my forever home. I hope I did them justice.

  Also available from Adriana Herrera

  and Carina Press

  American Dreamer

  About the Author

  Adriana Herrera was born and raised in the Caribbean, but for the last fifteen years has let her job (and her spouse) take her all over the world. She loves writing stories about people who look and sound like her people, getting unapologetic happy endings.

  When she’s not dreaming up love stories, planning logistically complex vacations with her family or hunting for discount Broadway tickets, she’s a social worker in New York City, working with survivors of domestic and sexual violence.

  You can find her here:

  Twitter: www.Twitter.com/ladrianaherrera

  Instagram: www.Instagram.com/ladriana_herrera

  Facebook: www.Facebook.com/laura.adriana.94801

  Website: www.adrianaherreraromance.com

  Newsletter: www.adrianaherreraromance.com/newsletter

  Introducing the Carina Press Romance Promise!

  The Carina Press team all have one thing in common: we are romance readers with a longtime love of the genre. And we know what readers are looking for in a romance: a guarantee of a happily-ever-after (HEA) or happy-for-now (HFN). With that in mind, we’re initiating the Carina Press Romance Promise. When you see a book tagged with these words in our cover copy/book description, we’re making you, the reader, a very important promise:

  This book contains a romance central to the plot and ends in an HEA or HFN.

  Simple, right? But so important, we know!

  Look for the Carina Press Romance Promise and one-click with confidence that we understand what’s at the heart of the romance genre!

  Look for this line in Carina Press book descriptions:

  One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!