by E. Davies
Plus, if I was going to fuck off to a place like that for longer than a few days as I sometimes did when a new project started, he deserved to know there was no chance he could visit me in that time. I could put myself at risk, but not him. Never him.
“Catch you later, Alex. I’ll let you know when I have a decision either way,” I promised. I raised my hand to wave and trade goodbyes before I hung up.
Before I left the office, I shut the laptop and then braced my elbows on the desk, burying my face in my hands. I was under pressure and not thinking clearly, that much was obvious.
I didn’t want to support the regime in power any more than any anti-gay country. I didn’t want my name on a building in a country that had a terrible human rights record. But then, plenty of countries I’d worked and even lived in had huge human rights problems they weren’t addressing.
I sighed and pushed myself to my feet, determined not to think about it anymore tonight.
As soon as I left my office, Valerie cornered me. “Well?”
“I’m thinking about it,” I told her, my tone clipped. I wasn’t going to give her false hope, either. “He’s one hundred percent not interested in anyone else—I tried that already.”
Valerie nodded. “I dunno why he’s so fixated on you, but it has to be you.” She took my arm. “I get it. God, I don’t want to go to Dubai, either, as a woman.”
I shivered and nodded. Sometimes our country sucked, but I felt relatively safe to be me here.
Why the hell had my work life gotten to the point where this was part of my thought process? Fuck this whole mess.
“But you need to look at the on-the-ground situation before you shoot yourself in the foot,” Valerie said. “There will be other projects for us.”
That wasn’t a threat, was it? No. She wouldn’t fire me over something like this. But it was a statement of fact, and I knew she was right. The up-and-coming architectural wonders weren’t being built in London or Tokyo these days. They were in countries like Singapore and Dubai. The next hotspots would no doubt have colonial-era laws, too. This wasn’t going to be a one-time problem.
“Like I said: I’ll think about it. God, it’s gotta be nearly midnight. I’m going home,” I told her.
“Good plan. Me too.” She was clearly disappointed not to have a result, but I was grateful she wasn’t pushing that pressure onto me, at least.
I waved and called an Uber before I packed up my laptop. I’d work from home in the morning and recover from the late night. Now that I was starting to get full nights of sleep, I’d found myself counting on them.
I was quiet on the Uber ride home, staring out the window. The gay glass ceiling weighed heavily on my mind. I knew damn well that most of this was the pressure I was putting on myself, and had since Hugh died. I wanted to keep rising within the firm, and then another firm if I outgrew this one. Someday, my own firm.
But someone had specifically requested me for this project. It was the first time anyone had been so insistent that it had to be me. Not only was it good for the ego, but it was great for my portfolio. If I really wanted to pursue this career with the vigor I’d put into it for the last five-plus years, it was stupid to ignore this chance.
Plus… I was going to Singapore, for God’s sake. Sure, the police presence wasn’t so actively hostile, but the laws were against same-sex relationships there, too. I couldn’t hold a double standard and argue that one was okay.
I thanked the driver when I blinked and found the car turning the corner towards my home. I climbed out on the corner and stopped by the bodega for a few groceries. I had a full-sized fridge, but rarely kept it stocked with fresh foods. The whole time, my brain was several thousand miles away.
I sleep-walked through my door and straight to the kitchen, dumped everything in the fridge, and then headed straight upstairs to bed without even a glass of wine.
One thing had consumed my thoughts: what happens if I say no?
Valerie wouldn’t fire me, but there wouldn’t be much room for advancement if I started applying silly things like principles to my career and stopped taking jobs in half the countries we operated in. Plus, I was good at Singapore and their building codes. Every country had their own practices and codes to consider, and I liked Singapore.
I was careful not to use social media much so I didn’t have to avoid my social media being used against me. I didn’t express much of my life, although I was technically registered on a few sites. And I’d always known that was unfair, but who cared? Fairness wasn’t the way the world worked. I knew that well enough by now.
“God, it just sucks,” I mumbled when I was finally in bed. I buried my face in the pillows and breathed in the faint scent of Kev that still clung to the pillowcases from a few days ago.
Goddammit, I wanted him here by my side. I rolled over again to actually check my phone and smiled at the string of texts from him. I sent one back, but I was so tired I could barely even process the words.
Long day today. Chat in the morning, I’m working from home. Sleep tight.
I got a response right away.
Good night!
It made me smile, at least. This was one tiny bright spot, even if it wasn’t like coming home and snuggling up in Kev’s arms. I could still remember what that felt like and I conjured that memory up as I pulled the covers over my head.
The fact didn’t escape me that if I pursued this with Kev, it was only going to make that very line I was considering right now even harder to walk. A single, HIV-negative gay guy who could kind of pass as straight and didn’t especially like to party going to Dubai for a week? Sure, I could avoid any trouble. But as soon as I got a boyfriend, there was that dance of avoiding talking about myself and my life.
I fucking hated that game with a burning passion. I generally avoided talking about myself because it was nobody’s business. But not being able to drop in a casual when my boyfriend and I did this had already been a frustration, even now that I had five years of solo living to talk about since I’d lost him.
It was a whole minefield of life changes that I wasn’t sure I was ready to walk into, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that I was still pressing the pillow that smelled like Kev’s hair into my face as I drifted to sleep.
Love didn’t care about inconvenience, and it never had. The only question was what to do about it—and whether to acknowledge it at all. Not that that was much of a choice.
Why the hell build a life at all if it was going to be half a life?
20
Kev
Exactly how often was I supposed to text a guy who was totally not my boyfriend, but whom I took on dates and had great sex with?
Ugh. Any rules I could think of—the three-day rule, or whatever—were weird and artificial. Nothing made sense except treating him like a friend, and if that meant texting him several times a day… more than I texted Adam…
I lay in bed, holding my phone. It was almost pressed against my nose as I drifted off into a light doze, waiting for Charlie to wake up and answer my good morning text.
Buzz! The vibrating phone in my hand scared the crap out of me, which at least forced me to wake up for the day.
But the text was totally worth it.
Good morning, gorgeous <3
In the privacy of my own room, where I didn’t have to defend my weakness to anyone, I smiled. Maybe it made me vulnerable in ways I didn’t like, but goddammit, I liked the thought of someone waking up on the other side of Brooklyn and thinking of me first.
I rolled onto my front and called him.
When Charlie answered, his voice was sleepy. “Hi, babe.”
“Hey.”
“What’s up?” He yawned.
I wasn’t honestly sure how to answer that with anything that wasn’t I missed the sound of your voice, which just sounded… well, pathetic. “I just wanted to talk.”
“That’s all right with me.” Charlie yawned again, and I was pretty sure I could hear him stretchi
ng and sitting up in bed. “Long night at work last night. Sorry I didn’t answer your texts sooner.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” I’d worried a bit about him, but he’d been coping with stupidly long work days for years now. The occasional day wouldn’t hurt him too much. “Got sucked into work?”
“We’ve been invited—begged—to do a project. No bidding and hoping for the best, so the boss really wants it. Had to stay up late to Skype with the guy.”
I smiled. “Wow. That sounds prestigious.” It was the kind of comment I’d make to a guy talking about his field when I didn’t really understand it but wanted his ego to feel good.
The reaction confused me. “I guess,” Charlie grunted. “Could be. So, how ‘bout you? Any plans?”
“Ugh, I guess not,” I said with a sigh. “Thinking about trying to find a job that works around my school hours. I can’t really survive without working for a couple years. But that’s all boring stuff.”
“No way.” He was firm. “I want to hear about your journey, too. Oh, speaking of journeys… so, I’m going to Singapore for a week.”
I smiled and pressed a hand against my hot cheek. Fuck, he was sweet. Here he was, an up-and-coming famous architect flying to Singapore and Skyping with people God-knows-where, but he was interested in my little vocational school plans? I couldn’t keep up with that anymore. Maybe in my old job—I’d gone on a couple of vacations with single older guys who wanted arm candy on their gay trips—but not on my current non-income.
“Have fun there.”
“I’ll just be working,” he said. I was almost getting used to his abruptness. I missed Southern manners, but I couldn’t blame him for it. “Anyway, I better get up. Site visit today on this nonprofit’s building.”
“Oh, enjoy. Hopefully they don’t give you many headaches.”
At least that got a chuckle. “Hope so too. Good luck with the job search.”
“Thanks. Talk to you later?”
“Later, babe.” He hung up and I stared at my phone for a second. The pet names were just slipping into his conversation now, like he didn’t even notice them—but he was a man of few words. I wanted to believe that every word was carefully chosen.
It felt good to hear those words. Pet names had always felt kind of greasy to me, like guys were trying too hard to turn me on. They knew I was just doing my job, and they always wanted to fulfill their fantasy of seducing the sex worker. Like that would make the sex better or more valuable somehow.
Charlie just dropped them in like I was a person who was important to him, not like he was trying to get something from me.
And here I was, wrapping myself into a blanket burrito and grinning at the ceiling like a total goof while I daydreamed about Charlie. God, I needed to get up and about my day, not lie about mooning over this guy.
Not that I had anything to do today. Waiting for school to start, but not really able to start a new job before then, was a sucky place to be in. I wasn’t going to try fast food or retail again—I clearly didn’t have the ability to put up with abuse in the name of a paycheck that they would require.
Which meant I had to get my ass in gear and do some other kind of work where I’d be respected. My old job was out—and now that I wasn’t sure how much my boundaries had been screwed up, it seemed smartest to take a giant step back from it all. Self-doubt had crept in.
Tennessee was an hour earlier, but Josh would be awake on the ranch.
I needed advice, and I needed it from someone who wouldn’t judge me.
I dialed Josh’s number and bit my thumbnail while I waited for an answer. It was a bad habit I’d kicked years ago, but every now and then when anxiety got the best of me, I found myself doing it again. I rolled onto my front and shoved my other hand under my pillow.
“Hey, Kev! Your phone does work!” was Josh’s cheerful greeting.
I grinned. It was kind of like having parents who gave a shit. He meant a lot to me, having taken me in and given me a place to live and a job for a few months. I’d meant to call him before, honestly, but it kept slipping my mind. “Hi, man. How’s it going?”
“Great. Business is picking up for the summer.”
“How’s Evan?” I was glad the two of them had worked through whatever their issues were to find each other. They worked well together—to the point they were finishing each other’s sentences by the time I left.
“He’s doing good, too. Adam?”
“His usual self,” I answered, rolling my eyes. I was keeping my voice down since whatever I said would be pretty clearly heard anywhere else in the house.
“So, if it’s not Adam being a massive dick, why’re you calling?”
I laughed. Josh saw right through me. “Advice, I guess.”
“Shoot.”
“Since we got here, Adam’s been piecing together odd jobs—you know him. I’ve been hustling.”
“Uh huh.” Josh had never judged me for doing what I wanted or needed to do, but the very first time we’d met, he’d offered me a job so I wouldn’t have to do survival sex work—so I had a free choice. I appreciated that more than I could say.
“But all the crackdowns online… it’s making it pretty tough to get work now. Anywhere else like Grindr, they delete your profile. The sites made just for us are all shut down.”
“Yep.” Josh sighed. “That’s a pain in the ass.”
“It sure is.”
Josh’s breath caught. “You’re not working street corners, are you? I’ll fly out there and kick your ass myself if you are.”
“Not quite,” I promised with a laugh. “I’ve been making do with existing clients.” I hadn’t checked my work phone in a week. Fuck, I’d probably missed so many texts. There was a more graceful way to get out of the business, I was pretty sure, but I never did things the graceful way. “And aiming a little higher-end, so each job keeps me going longer. But I’m sick of it.”
“I can get that,” Josh murmured. “So, where we talked about other jobs…?”
I grimaced. It was all well and good to learn to keep the books when we were talking one dude ranch in rural Tennessee. But just walking into a hotel or resort or, hell, any kind of small business here with no experience? No way. “I need more training. I’m actually going back to school next week.”
“Oh, shit! That’s great.” Josh sounded genuinely pleased for me, and for the first time, I let myself relax a little bit and celebrate. “What are you studying?”
It was good. I was figuring out what I wanted and going for it, instead of just falling back into my routine. “Massage. I guess it’s great, yeah.”
“What’s missing, then?”
“Huh?” I frowned at my phone, not even understanding the question.
“You’re still calling for advice, and you don’t sound happy about school.” Josh was blunt for a Southerner, but I appreciated it. Maybe that was why I could understand Charlie—it came off as peevish, but they were both just the no-bullshit kind of guys.
“No. I’m mostly doing it,” I lowered my voice to almost a mumble, “’cause I got fired from a cashier job on day one.”
Instead of being pissed at me, Josh burst out laughing. “Day one! Jesus, man. What did you do?”
“I got pissed off when a customer yelled at another employee,” I sighed.
“Oh, Kev.” Josh sounded fond. “Man, I didn’t want you to head off to Brooklyn ‘cause of this.”
“What? Really?” He’d never let that slip. “Why?”
“You’re an idealist. I never understood how, after everything you’ve been through, but you are. It’s not a bad thing, but it’s gonna make everything harder for you.”
I rolled onto my back and stared at my ceiling. “Yeah? I… I guess I am. I just think if something isn’t right, I’m not gonna shut up and put up with it.”
“Are you sure massage is where your career calling is?”
“No,” I snorted. “But I know where I can get work—start by doing stuff without
happy endings, and then maybe transition to something more official, like an actual massage therapy course.”
“Or you could take the leap now,” Josh said. “What would that be?”
The leap to what? I frowned and rubbed my forehead. “I don’t know. Something where I can make a difference. I feel like all bodywork does, but… on a one-to-one basis. There’s only so much I can do with that.”
Josh hummed. “Well, you’re taking a step in the right direction. While you’re at college, you might just find something else you wanna do. A lot of kids do.”
“I can’t afford to screw around in school for years,” I told him. “Especially in an advanced degree. I need something that gets me in and out in a couple years.”
“Yeah, I feel you there.” Josh was one of the few people who understood how much tuition cost these days, having gone off to school himself before his old man kicked the bucket and left him the place. He was also one of the few who understood what it was like to have a shitty parent who treated you like crap. For how little we seemed alike, we had a lot in common.
“Anyway, you think it’s a good thing?”
“I don’t want you getting arrested, man,” Josh told me frankly. “So I don’t like the idea of you doing anything that puts you in danger of that. As soon as you’ve got a record—and you know they’ll try to make it a sex offense if at all possible—good luck finding other jobs.”
I sighed. He was too right. “I know. I’ve been playing with fire. The unfairness of it all just fucking pisses me off. Life’s unfair, but why treat each other like crap?”
“Wish I knew that, man,” Josh told me. “Anything else on your mind?”
I hesitated for a few long moments before I sighed. “Nah. I’ve gotta build myself a website or something, I think. Figure out what going rates are. If I can’t get a menial job…”
“Make your own,” Josh filled in the blank. “Good going. Call me up if you need anything. Evan will help.”
I smiled. Evan had been big in advertising, so maybe hitting him up wasn’t a bad idea after all. “Yeah, I will. Thanks a lot for listening.”
