Nathan frowned as if the question was in poor taste. “I don’t know where he is, nor do I care.”
“He dumped you?” Mackenzie tried to keep the vicious anticipation from showing on his face.
But Nathan scoffed. “Dumped me? Of course not. But he was….” Nathan looked at Mackenzie appraisingly. “I found that I’d underestimated you,” he admitted, but he made it sound like that error had somehow been Mackenzie’s fault, as if he hadn’t made his qualities clear enough. “I’m afraid poor Calvin couldn’t quite measure up. He was just… selfish, I think. Immature. Much like you were when we first became involved, actually. And I suppose I could have put the years into nurturing him and molding him, like I did with you, but it occurred to me… why bother? I mean, when I’ve already done all that work once….”
It wasn’t clear whether it was the hangover or the words, but something was making Mackenzie dizzy. “I need to sit down,” he said faintly.
“You’d better go back to the bedroom, then, because this bathroom does not have many amenities. I suppose you could perch on the toilet….”
Mackenzie stumbled past Nathan and flopped onto the bed, face-first, burying his head in the covers and wishing desperately for a do-over. If he’d had less to drink the night before, he’d be able to respond to all this much better.
He pulled his face out of the sheets when he realized he was smelling Nathan’s familiar cologne. Damn it, the man had been in the room for one night and his presence was already pervasive.
“Sleep for a bit,” Nathan said softly, running his fingers through Mackenzie’s hair. “I have a few things to do, and then I’ll come back and we’ll talk.” The mattress shifted and a moment later Nathan said, “I’ve set the alarm for an hour. Wake up then, shower, and come upstairs.” Of course Nathan knew how to set the alarm; he was the one who’d bought it when he decided Mackenzie needed to have more disciplined sleep habits.
Mackenzie stayed still until he heard Nathan leave the room, then rolled over and found his phone on the bedside table. A few quick pokes at the screen, and then he heard Joe’s familiar voice.
“Hi, Mackenzie.” Joe sounded tired. Hopefully there hadn’t been another fire… and Mackenzie too out of it to help Joe recover?
“Are you okay?”
“What? Yeah, I’m fine. What’s up?” He still sounded tired, and now maybe a little impatient.
“I’m not sure. I… I had way too much to drink last night, I guess.” It was embarrassing to ask, but Mackenzie needed to know. “Did you come by? I know we had plans….”
“I was there for a bit. Wasn’t really my thing, though, so I left.”
“Oh. Okay.” That all made sense. And maybe explained why Joe sounded less than impressed with Mackenzie. They’d had plans, and Mackenzie had screwed them up. Not good. Not something Mackenzie’s boyfriends should be expected to tolerate. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, okay?”
The pause was long enough to make Mackenzie’s already fragile stomach churn a little more. “Don’t worry about it,” Joe said. The words were fine, but the tone was not.
“No, I will. That was rude of me, to be drunk when you showed up. I really am sorry.”
Joe’s huff of breath might have been a bit of laughter, or it might have been something else. “Don’t worry about it,” he repeated. “It’s not a big deal. We’re just casual, right?”
A flash of memory came to Mackenzie then. Joe had been at the party. And Mackenzie had said something about moving back to the city someday, and Joe hadn’t reacted at all. He’d been fine with the idea. Because everything was casual between them. Because Joe didn’t really have any attachment to any of this. It had made Mackenzie angry the night before, but now it just made him sad. He’d let himself fall for another man who didn’t really care about him. They both just wanted to use him, but at least Nathan had been in it for the longer term. At least Nathan had provided for Mackenzie, made him comfortable in his servitude. He looked around the church basement. There wasn’t a single gift from Joe, not even flowers or chocolate or something disposable. “Just casual,” he echoed.
“Okay, so I’ll see you around. Bye, Mackenzie.”
The phone disconnected, and Mackenzie stared at it. The call had taken less than a minute. So little time, but still a pretty important message delivered. All along, Joe had been saying he wanted to keep things casual, and Mackenzie had never really disagreed. At least he hadn’t said anything about it. He’d hinted at it when he said he wanted to spend more time together, but he hadn’t made it clear enough. It wasn’t Joe’s fault Mackenzie was feeling so empty and alone.
He sighed and hauled himself to his feet. He was tired, but he wasn’t going to go back to sleep on Nathan’s command. So he showered, trying not to think about sharing the stall with Joe, and then got dressed and headed upstairs.
There were bodies strewn all over the sanctuary of the church, most of them wrapped in sleeping bags, some just laid out in the clothes they’d been wearing. People were starting to wake up. Hungover, poorly rested, and grumpy: just another Sunday morning. Except there was no trendy brunch spot to stumble to. They’d have to drive to get to town, and the one restaurant that served a real breakfast would have trouble accommodating this many extra customers. Mackenzie wondered whether whoever had organized this little event had thought of these challenges. Probably not; after all, he hadn’t thought about support services when he’d bought the damned place.
He snapped out of his gloomy reverie when the front doors swung open and a swarm of black-and-white clad strangers bustled in. Even through his confusion Mackenzie could recognize the traditional serving uniform, and he couldn’t deny that they seemed to be setting up tables, carrying in silver trays… and there, in the middle of the action, was Nathan, smiling in satisfaction.
“What the hell?” Mackenzie managed as he stumbled toward the narthex. “Nathan… what the hell? Where did they come from?”
“I shipped them in,” he said nonchalantly. “Not from right downtown, I’m afraid; they’re from the north end of Brampton. The menu looks interesting. We’ll have to see about the quality. But if we worked with them, they could adapt as needed, I’m sure. We’ll give them a try today and see what needs to be done.”
Mackenzie realized that his mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut. “They’re… today’s a tryout? They could…. You’re thinking they could cater the weddings?”
Nathan nodded patiently. “That’s right. There’s always a way, Mackenzie. You should have learned that by now.” His smile was almost genuine as he added, “And I’m quite excited about another one of the solutions I’ve found to your little problems.”
“Wait. How do you even know what my little… what my problems are?”
“We have mutual friends, Mackenzie. I didn’t show up here by accident. I was invited to be part of the event.” He shrugged. “I had to give it some thought. You know how I feel about some of your friends. But… I came. I’m here. Everything is going to work out fine now.”
Mackenzie watched in a daze as warming pans were set up and food started. After a quick consultation with Nathan, the servers started unloading tables from one of the vans and setting them up in the partly weeded gardens. White tablecloths and napkins, centerpieces, gleaming silver cutlery… the caterers were going all-out.
Lorraine came out on her front steps to stare at the proceedings, and Mackenzie jogged across the street to join her.
“Have you had a wedding already?” she asked in amazement. “I thought you were just getting set up!”
“We are. This is… it’s a trial run, I guess.” He looked across the road at all the commotion and tried to see it through her eyes. A nuisance, maybe, but she didn’t seem resentful. More curious. “Lorraine, I’m not sure if you’ll be comfortable with some of the people who’ll be over there. They may be a bit….” Hung over. Drug addled. Irreverent. Indecent. “… unusual. But I’d love it if you’d join me for breakf
ast.”
“I don’t know,” she said, but her eyes were dancing. “It looks very fancy. I’m hardly dressed for it….”
“You’ll be in better shape than most,” Mackenzie promised, and he gestured down at his own jeans and deep V-necked T-shirt. The outfit might have cost more than her fanciest party gown, but she wouldn’t know it by looking.
“Well… I’ve already eaten. But maybe I could have a little taste….”
“That’s all they give you,” he stage-whispered. “The portions are bound to be tiny. If they aren’t, Nathan will be outraged and consider it a grave flaw in their service.”
“Nathan?”
Oh. That was a bit too complicated to be discussed before coffee. “He’s the one who set this up.”
Lorraine smiled blandly, but her eyes were still sharp and interested. “How kind of him. He must be a very good friend.”
Mackenzie didn’t answer that. Instead, he crooked his arm in her direction. “I’m not sure the food is ready yet, but there’s juice, and I can smell coffee from here. I could really use some of both, and I’d love it if you’d keep me company.”
Nathan didn’t seem to love it so much. He frowned when he saw Mackenzie’s chaperone and then ignored them completely. It wasn’t clear whether he was actually wrapped up in the minutiae of the breakfast service or just pretending to be, but Mackenzie didn’t really care either way. He needed to clear his head before he had any more contact with his ex.
The sleepers from the church started waking and stumbling out, and Lorraine greeted them with equanimity. Mackenzie made a point of emphasizing that people attending a wedding would certainly be on much better behavior and dressed more formally than this crowd had been. Lorraine just raised an eyebrow. “Dressed better, maybe. But the weddings I’ve been to? The receptions can get pretty rowdy.”
Mackenzie supposed she had a good point. When he pictured the church’s role in future events, he saw white linens, like that morning. He saw carefully dressed ladies and gentlemen circulating among the tables with cocktails or champagne in their well-manicured hands. If there were children in his dreams, they were wearing frilly white dresses with wide pink sashes that matched their shoes, and they were standing nicely off to the side, not doing a hell of a lot. There didn’t seem to be any little boys in his vision at all. Then he looked at the collection of zombies shuffling out of the church into the cruel sunlight. These people were invited to weddings. They went to weddings. And they acted like themselves while they were there. Mackenzie’s vision was not strongly connected to reality.
He was in way over his head. The chapel had been the original idea, and he could do that. Get it fixed up, help coordinate a nice ceremony, maybe fulfill a few special requests. But he wasn’t a caterer, he wasn’t a party planner, and he wasn’t a hotelier. He had no idea how he could have found these clowns places to sleep the night before if they’d been real guests and expected something better than the church floor. Maybe if he’d worked his ass off, and had some damned warning, he could have found people willing to serve as B&Bs. But how many misbehaving guests would anyone tolerate in their home before closing the doors and going back to their quiet existence? How could this become a sustainable business, especially with a neophyte like Mackenzie in charge?
He looked over at Nathan, who was carefully scrutinizing the amount of champagne the server was pouring into a pitcher of mimosas. Nathan didn’t know anything about catering or party planning, either, but he knew people who did, and he had the money to pay the experts. Now he said he had solutions to Mackenzie’s problems, and he was probably being truthful. Nathan was an experienced and successful businessman, an expert at finding ways to make money. He’d know what Mackenzie needed to do, and he’d also know what he expected from Mackenzie in return for his assistance.
And Mackenzie had no reason to resist Nathan’s plans. If Nathan was here to offer him his old life back, he knew he had to take it. He was failing on his own. His business was going nowhere, his personal life… no, damn it, he couldn’t let himself think about Joe. He couldn’t remember how safe and cherished he’d felt in Joe’s arms, not if he was about to walk back into the controlling embrace of another man. Besides, the warmth from Joe had been a lie, or at least not the truth Mackenzie wanted it to be. Joe didn’t care about him as anything other than a fuck buddy. Joe could move on anytime. Nathan had lasted almost six years, and he was back for more.
When Nathan glanced over, Mackenzie made himself smile and raise his mimosa glass in congratulations. The breakfast was a success. Nathan would tolerate nothing less.
By the time Mackenzie returned from escorting Lorraine home, things were starting to wind down. Party guests were rolling up their sleeping bags like good little scouts at a jamboree, and the servers were covering food and clearing away dishes. Nathan was sitting at the most distant table, the chair beside him pulled out in an invitation Mackenzie had been well-trained to notice and obey.
He slid into his seat. “This went really well, Nathan. Thanks.”
“There were a few glitches, but I think we could make it work. I took some notes, and I’ll pass them along.”
“I guess I should see the expenses?” Mackenzie ventured. “I mean, people might want to use their own caterers, but if they don’t….”
“Screw that. You pick the caterer, and that way you don’t have to worry about amateurs messing things up. You’ll get better service because you’ll be a big client, and they’ll know not to mess with you, and you can take a cut of what they bill and add a booking charge or something onto the invoice for your customers.”
Oh. “It might be hard if we don’t have an indoor venue,” he tried. “It was beautiful today, but people will want a backup plan in case it rains.”
Nathan nodded. “And there still isn’t much for people to do while they’re waiting for the happy couple to get their pictures taken. This might work if it had to, but I think my second plan is better by far.”
“Your second plan?”
“Trains,” Nathan said, and he leaned back in his chair with a self-satisfied smile.
“I’m sorry? Trains?”
“There’s an abandoned CP line running by about two miles from here. Goes straight from Toronto up to Collingwood. I know a man who’s working to get it set up as a weekend commuter train. He owns half of Collingwood, just started a new resort up there, and he thinks he can get more visitors if they don’t have to drive so far. He wants to make the train an event in and of itself… a car for kids to watch movies or play video games or whatever, a car for adults to have cocktails… that sort of thing. Your guests could take that train up from the city, get off at a station nearby—we’d have to build that, but we could—have the wedding, then get back on the train and have cocktails while they went the rest of the way up to Collingwood to stay at one of my friends’ resorts.” Nathan waited for Mackenzie’s brain to catch up.
“Wow,” he finally said. “That… that could really work. The trip could be a part of the experience. And it would eliminate the worries about drunk-driving, or bad weather… trains can run in bad weather, right?”
Nathan shrugged. “I think so. We’d have to look into that.”
“My God, Nathan, this really would solve my problems!” Mackenzie tried to control his excitement, but it wasn’t easy. His business had a chance. The church could be a success.
“And you could run it from the city,” Nathan said, clearly thinking he was putting the icing on the cake he’d already delivered. “I was thinking you could turn that little guest bedroom into an office, if you wanted. I don’t think you’d need a public space; you could visit clients in their homes or meet somewhere neutral. This would give you something to keep you busy when I’m out of town or when my own business takes up my time. But it wouldn’t be so big that it interferes with your time with me. I think it could be perfect.”
And there it was. Nathan was too refined to actually spell out the deal he was offeri
ng and too proud to apologize for his misdeeds and ask Mackenzie to come back to him, but the setup was clear. All could be forgiven and forgotten. Mackenzie could go back to his old life as a kept man. He could stop worrying about money and just let himself be taken care of. All he had to do was agree to Nathan’s plan.
He pushed his chair back from the table and stood up so quickly he almost knocked over a server who’d been hovering behind them. “I’ll think about it,” he said.
“What’s to think about?” Nathan seemed genuinely confused. “You really think you’re going to get a better deal anywhere else?”
“Probably not,” Mackenzie admitted. “Look, can I give you a call in a day or two? I just need to wrap my brain around a few things.”
Nathan was wearing his “I’ll be patient but not for long” expression. “Fine.” He stood up. “Today’s Sunday. I’ll hear from you by Tuesday night.”
“Yeah, okay,” Mackenzie agreed. He’d bought himself some time. That was good. Now he just needed to use the time and figure out what the hell he wanted. For his business and for the rest of his life.
Chapter 12
MISERY WAS a hell of a cow horse. She worked the cattle with a serene authority, not ruffling feathers but establishing herself as an animal deserving of respect. Every now and then Joe was pretty sure she got cocky, practically daring one of them to defy her, just so she could show off her cutting skills. If she decided a steer was going in a certain direction, it would damn well go that way, and she would out dodge and out deke any animal that thought differently. And as soon as she’d made her point, she’d lapse back into placidity, like a mother cat napping while her kittens frolicked.
At least, that was how it usually went. Today, though, it seemed like everything was going wrong. It should have been a simple job, moving a herd of fairly calm steers from one pasture to another. Something Joe did practically every day with one herd or another. It wasn’t usually a big deal. But today it was like the cattle were out to get him. They were restless, acting almost afraid of the horse and rider they’d always accepted. Two different animals had tried to make a break for it, trying to dodge behind Misery and run back to the old pasture. One of them had almost made it and would have outrun the mare if Red hadn’t intervened, lunging at the steer and barking him back into the herd. It was unheard of for Misery to fail, and Joe could feel her body tightening in frustration.
The Fall Page 16