"That's different," I argue, trying to keep my voice steady. "He started it as a joke for the show, and it just stuck. I told him not to worry about it."
Gary leans in slightly, his grin morphing into something sly. "I don't blame you, but that's not a tree you want to bark up. If you catch my drift."
I frown, confused. "I don't catch your drift. What do you mean?"
Gary straightens up, his expression softening. "I'm just saying, Vince is complicated. He's got a lot of history, a lot of baggage. And from what I've seen, you don't need that kind of distraction in your life right now."
I want to protest, to argue that whatever Gary thinks he sees is completely unfounded. But before I can, he claps me on the shoulder, his grin disarming.
"Well, you already know about Samantha, but he's also stuck in a horrifically complicated marriage with a woman who kind of scares me. And by 'scares me,' I mean I sometimes have nightmares about her going postal and murdering anyone who's looked at Vince for longer than three seconds."
I chuckle. "Yeah. He already told me about that."
Gary coughs, surprised, and sets his plate down, crossing his arms.
"He told you about his wife?" He stares at me like I'm some sort of science experiment gone wrong.
"Yeah. On our first run," I admit. "Honestly, I kind of made him tell me. He hinted at something dramatic, and curiosity got the better of me. I wouldn't let it go. I didn't realize how personal it would be."
Gary tilts his head, still staring. "Was this the morning it rained at Warner Park?"
I freeze. "Yes. Why?" Gary just keeps chewing and staring. "Vince told you about that?"
Gary laughs, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Of course he did. We talk too, you know. I've known Vince almost as long as I've been married to Frank. We've worked on projects together for years, he's practically family." He pauses, his expression shifting. "But I'll be honest, he doesn't share personal stuff. Especially not with someone he's just met. He's paranoid about things getting out on social media or ruining his career. The fact that he told you? Surprising." Gary's eyes meet mine, a glint of something unreadable in their depths. "No offense, Andrew, but I'm surprised."
I bite my lip, trying to hide the unease coiling in my stomach. "What exactly did he say? About that day?"
A smirk plays at Gary's lips as he picks up his plate again. "That's cute, Andrew. But no, that's not your business. I'm not playing middleman here, so don't even start with me, sweetheart."
I frown, and he claps a hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze that feels anything but. "You should probably keep your shirt on, though."
"I—" Heat creeps up my neck, flooding my face with an embarrassing warmth. "I do keep it on! Gary. The rain—it was just that one time." My voice drops, barely audible above the hum of the studio lights. "Why would he tell you that?"
Gary laughs to himself, shaking his head in that maddening way he has when he knows something I don't. "You're going to give that poor man a heart attack."
"He's straight."
The laugh that escapes Gary this time is louder, richer, echoing slightly in the cavernous studio space. "He's not. He's bi."
"Oh."
I stare at my half-eaten Caesar wrap, suddenly losing my appetite as a cold dread seeps into my bones.
I look up at Gary, who's clearly enjoying my internal meltdown like it's the season finale of his favorite drama. "Hey, Gary, is it possible he's been flirting with me?"
Gary gives me a blank stare, then leans in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to match mine. "You're serious?"
I grit my teeth, the muscles in my jaw tensing. "Is that a yes, or a hell no?"
Gary chuckles, grabbing a to-go box and casually filling it with food. "Vince isn't going to do anything. He's not about to cheat on Samantha. Unlike most people in this industry, he's a decent guy. He's just messing with you, playing around. I thought you knew. Honestly, I thought you were playing along, judging by the way you look at him when he's pulling your leg."
"So... that's a yes?"
Gary sighs, shaking his head with a smile. "Yes, Andrew. He's flirting with you. He thinks it's fun, and I've already told him to stop."
Out of sheer nervousness, I stuff the rest of my wrap into my mouth in two awkward bites. Gary chuckles softly, pulling me into a brief, affectionate hug as I try not to choke on my food.
"Relax," he says in a low voice. "It'll probably stop in a few weeks when he finds something else stupid enough to entertain him."
