by Kyle Baxter
Chapter Twenty-Nine
My Strongest Suit
Evening came quickly and with it his outing with Zooey. Why’d I agree to this? He hoped he was clear with her: this was a networking thing, not a date. But with her, he could never be certain.
Then there was his growing closeness with Alex and their undeniable attraction. It was all so confusing. Could you fall back in love with someone? Was he ever in love with him to begin with or was this new? It felt new and old and just everything.
His bewilderment didn’t stop him from making another late-night phone call or one this morning. What am I doing?
“You’re sure this isn’t too much?” David asked as Bonnie walked through his front door.
“Alex is right: you’re exhausting.” Bonnie stood in the dining room, setting up shop on the table. “Is the Wi-Fi password still the same?”
David nodded.
“Good, and where’s Mini Coop?”
I guess we’re all calling him that now. He gestured upstairs. “In his room, doing something . . . private—he won’t show me.”
“Get used to that, because it’ll only get worse.” Bonnie sat and opened her laptop.
“I can’t wait.” He picked through his valet tray on the table and grabbed his keys and wallet.
“You sure about this tonight? A date with Zooey?” She glowered at him, then went back to her keyboard.
“It is not a date,” he protested. “It’s a ‘young professionals’ meet and greet.’”
She side-eyed him. “You’re her plus one? It’s a date. Trust me.”
David put his wallet in his back pocket. “It’s an outing.”
“On the Hallmark Channel, that’s what the leads always say when they don’t want to call it a date.” She typed furiously on her keyboard.
“This is what you and my mom want me to do: get out there. This is me going out with a friend. And anyway, I owe her.” He scratched his head. “She’s covered plenty of shifts for me.”
“It’s your funeral.” She paused in her typing, held up a finger, and twirled it in a circle. “Let’s see.”
David turned in place. Studying him over her reading glasses, Bonnie gave his ensemble a once-over. The tight V-neck black cashmere sweater lay over a white T-shirt snug across his broad chest. His slacks were fitted but not tight.
Putting a finger to her chin, she said, “Did you have those trousers altered?”
David felt his face flush. “Had to because of my butt. Regular fit is too snug.”
“That’s why all the boys like you.” She smirked. “Very nice—and very black. Alex would approve. Be sure to wear a pashmina.”
He laughed. “I will. I had a ‘New York State of Mind’ playing when I dressed.” With a grin, he retreated from the room. “I’m going.”
“Later,” she said over her laptop. “Enjoy your date.”
“It’s not a date,” he shouted from the foyer.
David met Zooey at the party. She stood outside, waiting for him. He hoped for not too long. The event was at a trendy brasserie called StripSteak. Zooey was almost bubbly. It scared him. In the two years they’d worked together, he’d never seen her like this. What have I gotten myself into?
She welcomed him with one of her too-long hugs. Walking through the door, they immediately sidled up to the coat check.
“You look nice.” He got the pleasantries out of the way. She wore a classic black cocktail dress and a strand of pearls. Everything in place, as always. And she had a blowout. Oh, yeah, this was a mistake.
The hostess pointed them to the rear of the restaurant. Making their way through the happy-hour crowd, they found the semi-private room holding the cocktail reception. It was buzzing with about thirty people broken into little groups chatting.
Surveying the room, he found it an attractive, well-dressed group. “Hey, how did you find out about this?”
She leaned in to talk over the din. “I got an invite on LinkedIn.”
A room full of yuppies, he noted with distaste, though aware the label applied to him too. While he got drinks, she talked with a young woman who looked familiar. Oh yeah, she’s ugly-sweater nurse from the coffee shop!
Finding himself growing bored, he told himself to give it a chance. He seldom went out anymore. Between work and Eric, most of his free time was taken up. One thing or another was always going on, and at least one night a week he took over the phone lines for the CYA.
“Oh,” he heard Zooey say frostily beside him. Following the line of her eye, he glimpsed a man. His wavy dark hair was slicked back, and he had large, expressive eyes. His heart fluttered; it was Alex.
Can’t go anywhere in this town. He laughed, but at a glance from Zooey, the laugh caught in his throat and ended in a cough. David looked again and saw that Alex’s good-looking friend John was with him. He turned away, trying not to be seen. What do I do? Do I go over and talk to them? I should—yes.
“David,” he heard him call out, and a grin broke out over his face. He waved in his old friend’s direction—maybe a little too energetically—and the couple legged it over to them. Was Alex strutting? God, he’s arrogant sometimes. He chuckled to himself.
“So good to see a friendly face.” Alex gave him a quick hug. “You know John.”
“Hey.” He shook the man’s hand. He had a firm grip and David answered it, making John’s brow furrow. Calm down, he told himself. It’s not a contest.
“This is Zooey,” Alex said to John.
“You’re just everywhere.” She held up her hands with a waggle.
Alex shared a knowing glance with John. They looked cozy. David reminded himself that John was a friend. Why are you jealous?
“My friend, Vanessa, is over there. I’m going to say hi. Join me when you’re done here.” Zooey gave him a light kiss on the cheek and slinked away.
“That wasn’t awkward or anything.” Alex watched her go.
David slapped him on the back. “It’s good to see you—it’s always good to see you—but why are you here?”
“My fault,” John chimed in. “Saw a posting about this on LinkedIn and thought, why not?”
He wanted to ignore Alex’s friend, but the guy was too nice and too damn attractive. And Alex looked like a movie star with his golden complexion and cute ears. David felt like a lump beside them—a big pasty lump.
“Why’d you have to show up looking so good?” David groused before catching himself. He pointed at his friend’s new teal sweater. “It’s just that color definitely works for you, that’s it.”
Alex scrunched up his face. “Thank you? You’ve gone in the opposite direction. All black? Hold on.” Reaching over, he adjusted the way the T-shirt lay under David’s sweater.
He flinched. The touch felt electric and surprised him. Alex withdrew his hand, but their eyes stayed locked.
“Where’s John?” David asked. The man had slipped away while they talked.
“Probably getting drinks. I should join him and let you get back to your date.”
“It’s not a date,” David protested. As his friend walked away, his gaze lingered on the pleasing slope of the man’s shoulders.
“Finally.” Zooey reappeared, making him jump. “How long is he in town for?”
David absently looked around. “Until after New Year’s.”
“We’ll have to grin and bear it, I guess.” Taking his arm, she pulled him away.
“Could you not?” David asked sharply, and she wilted. “He is my friend.” He turned away from her, but he’d lost sight of Alex and John. Where’d they go?
Strangely, he didn’t feel quite so jealous this time. Maybe admitting to his feelings for Alex alleviated some of his insecurity. Enjoy it for what it is, he reminded himself.
He never saw Alex and John again, and an hour later, he and Zooey stood outside, ready to say goodnight. The sidewalks were crowded. People celebrated, gearing up for the holidays.
“That was fun, thank you. See you at work.
” He gave a little wave and started toward his car. A hand on his arm stopped him.
“That’s it?” She glared at him, a hand on her hip.
As revelers moved around them, he stepped closer. “What were you expecting?”
Folding her hands in front of her, she pouted. A stark contrast to her usual demeanor. She didn’t carry it well. “A goodnight kiss, maybe?”
“That wouldn’t be appropriate.” David tried to keep his voice firm yet dispassionate. “I’m not interested in you.”
Her arms dropped to her sides. “But we’re on a date.”
“You said it was a networking thing. Y’know, two work friends meeting other local professionals? Otherwise I wouldn’t have come.” David frowned, angry with himself. He’d taken Zooey at her word, but Bonnie was right: she’d wanted a date. “I don’t date people I work with. You know this.”
She stepped forward and lay a hand on his arm. “But we get on so well at work.”
“And I get along well with Bryan and Jodi. That doesn’t mean I want to date them. I’m sorry if I led you on.” He nodded to one couple as they passed by them. The woman gave him a sympathetic eye.
Her brow furrowed. “But . . .”
“Zooey, that was a no.” He held her gaze. “No, thank you.”
She gave him a dirty look and stalked off in the opposite direction.
Yikes. He liked working with her, but their friendship existed mostly because of proximity; she was a work friend. There wasn’t a future for anything else.
#
Getting in line at the Java-N-Kava, David checked his watch. He had just enough time to get a frappe before heading to work.
Someone tapped his shoulder. Alex’s friend, John, grinned as he spun around.
“David, how’s it going? Remember me?”
“Hey, of course I remember—” Hearing a “Next,” he turned his attention to the barista. “I’d like a caramel frappe.”
John leaned forward. “Two please,” he said to the barista, giving him a pat on the back. “I’ll get it.”
“Thanks?” Unsure how he merited this, David only knew the man from seeing him on a couple of dates with Alex. They weren’t dates. But he accepted his generosity and stepped aside.
John was warm and eager. David’s initial jealousy of him left a sharp feeling in his stomach.
“It’s nice to see you again.” John snagged napkins and straws. “Y’know, Alex talks a lot about you.”
He does? “Yeah, we’re old friends.” He twirled his car keys in his hand. What do I say? “Are you visiting long?”
John went to the pick-up area. “No, actually I’m on my way back to NYC.”
“Why?” David rocked back and forth on his feet.
“My business here is done—for the moment.” John handed David his cup. “You know, I had no idea when I got sent here that Capili’s Restaurant was run by his family.”
“Is that why you’re here?” David led him to a seat by the window. Flocked snowflake patterns decorated it.
“Yeah, I represent a corporate restaurant group.” John’s voice lowered and he leaned forward. “We want to buy them out.”
The reality of Capili’s going away hit him like a weight again. He spent so many hours there as a kid. That building held many good memories.
“Buy them out,” he repeated.
John picked up the fake holly twig on the table and toyed with it. “We made a good offer. It’s an attractive investment, a pillar of the community, and you can’t beat the location.”
“You said want to do that? What’s the holdup?” David asked.
“It’s Mama and Papa. I don’t think they want to sell.” John sat the holly down and stirred the whipped cream in his frappe.
He sat back. “Well, it is a family business. They started it with Alex’s father.”
“I think they’re hoping he’ll take it over, but that’s not likely.” John wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“Why not? I mean, I’m curious why you think that.”
“I can’t imagine him leaving New York, you know?” he asked, and David nodded. “He’s such a big-city guy. A gay playwright in New York City? It’s a stereotype.”
“You know he’s a playwright?”
“Oh yeah, my partner Dan was in several of his plays.”
“Oh.” His partner Dan? That’s good news. Trying to hide a smile, a giggle escaped his lips.
“Did you think we were on a date?” The corner of John’s lip curved up.
“Yeah, I did at first.”
John jabbed a finger at him, and his grin grew broader. “You we’re jealous.”
The situation would annoy him if he weren’t so happy. “Hey, you’re really good-looking.”
“You aren’t too bad yourself.” John held his hands out like he was measuring David’s shoulders. “You’ve got that whole Captain America thing going on. ‘Specimen.’”
He ducked his head in embarrassment while John chuckled. He could like this guy, especially now that he knew he had zero designs on Alex. With a start, he snapped his fingers. “Captain America: The Winter Soldier.”
“Well, done.” John leaned forward. “Alex told me about your game.”
“And you know Alex, from his plays?”
John took another long sip of his frappe. “My partner loves his work. He’s huge. Well, off-off-Broadway huge.”
“I like his writing too.” David examined the remains of his drink.
“I always wanted to be an actor.” With a TV anchorman smile, John made a show of adjusting his hair. “But I have to content myself with being a patron of the arts. I just wish he was still producing. Dan really enjoyed working with him.”
His eyes widened. “Alex’s not producing anymore?”
“He hasn’t put out anything in a couple of years. It’s too bad, especially after the nibbles. I’m sorry. I’m yammering. I don’t get to talk too much about this stuff with anyone outside of Dan. This trip has been a treat.”
“What nibbles?” David asked.
John leaned forward. “Some film people asked to see some of his scripts. My better half was in one of the shows they were interested in, but we never knew what happened.”
He turned it over in his mind. “I didn’t know that.” Alex was talented but, he didn’t know there were inquiries about his work from movie studios. Again, the years they spent apart opened wide in his mind.
“You didn’t know?” John stared at him.
“Hasn’t come up.” He bobbed his head. “No reason it should have—it’s complicated.”
John wiped the tabletop with his napkin and stuffed it in the empty cup. “Can I ask you something?”
“Go for it.” David gave him a thumbs-up.
John sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “How did your date the other night go?”
“It wasn’t a date,” David said firmly.
“Are you sure?” John leaned forward. “She was wearing pearls and she had a blowout, not her usual mental hospital bangs.”
David spat out his drink. “Mental hospital bangs?”
Flicking a wrist in the air, John laughed. “That’s what Alex called them.”
Fucking Alex. “Why did you ask that?”
“Alex really likes you and he’s a friend. I . . . I just don’t want to see him hurt. His ex really did a number on him.” John was being protective of his friend. David appreciated that and liked him more for it.
“It’s not like that. The last thing I want to do is hurt him.”
Chapter Thirty
Black Me Out
Alex arrived at the Orpheum mid-morning to get to work. The contractors were already there. He gave them a key so they could come and go without him. It saved a lot of time.
He made a pass by his aunt and uncle’s house on the way, but they weren’t home. That was a surprise, but he reminded himself they did have their own lives.
The carpenters were hard at work, repairing the stairs. C
arpet restoration started after that. The auditorium was too big of a project for their needs, and time too short, but the lobby and the second-floor landing would more than suffice for the party.
Standing at the concession counter, he worked on his tablet as the chaos moved around him. Every now and again someone would interrupt him with a question. They were doing good work. He briefly talked to them about going to his father’s house and doing any repairs needed.
The first trip over there was difficult, but the second was okay and the next would be better. This would work.
David offered to help, but it didn’t seem . . . proper? As nice as hanging out with him was, he was hesitant about how to proceed with him. Where was this headed? As it was, he was getting attached to the man and his son. This life. He shook his head.
He toyed with the idea of returning to New York early. His aunt and uncle didn’t need his help and he could give them power of attorney over his shares of the restaurant.
Five Points Catering, however, did need him in New York City. There were several important parties coming up. And though the bride in the Blake-Krug wedding was talked off her latest ledge, he knew the next meltdown was not long in coming.
He looked around the room and his eyes fell on the theater’s movie poster frames. They sat empty on the wall. We need something in them. He went back to his tablet and scoured the Internet for classic Christmas-themed movie posters and one-sheets. After finding several, he had them shipped with express delivery. Though the party was over a week away, he wanted everything ready long before then. Something would always happen, no matter how prepared you were.
Absently, he pulled out his cellphone. To his surprise, he saw that he missed a call from Papa, but there was no message. He made a mental note to call him at lunchtime.
Looking at the side edge of his phone, he realized the mute button was on. He switched it off and set it on the counter.
He spied Michael Bowen, the realtor for the property, outside. An acquaintance from high school, Mike was part of the in-crowd. Gregarious and outgoing, he and David played on several sports teams together.
