“Are you after a one-night stand? Sex only, with no conversation? Because that’s not really my style.”
“No, I’m just saying we don’t have to get deep and personal. My life is pretty complicated right now. It seems like yours is, too. Maybe we can agree to leave all of that at the door when we get together, and just keep this light.”
“You’d be okay with that?”
“More than okay.”
“But then, what would we talk about?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. You could lie to me, if you wanted to. In fact, let’s do that.”
“I couldn’t lie to you. I’m a very honest person.”
“But it’s not dishonest if we both agree to it. Think about it—you don’t want to talk about your life, and I don’t want to talk about mine. So, we could treat lying to each other like a game, kind of like trying on a different persona for an evening. The more far-fetched, the better.”
“Give me an example.”
“Okay. You mentioned last night that you own a diner. Instead of talking about that, maybe you could tell me all about your life as a celebrity chef. Not that it has to be tangentially related. You could just as easily tell me you’re a journalist, or a pilot, or an actor—literally anything but the truth. Not that there’s anything wrong with running a diner, obviously. It would just be a way to… step outside of yourself, I guess.”
The thought of getting to be someone else, even for just an evening, definitely sounded good to me. “That could be fun. It’d almost be like role playing.”
Tory nodded. “In a way, yes.”
“Can I think about this? I don’t just mean the make-believe part. I’ve never dated a man before, although it’s something I’ve wanted for a long time. Actually, I’ve barely dated at all these last few years because work takes all my time, so even something light would be a big change for me.” It was more like the last three decades, but that sounded pathetic.
“Of course.”
“Let me give you my number.” He handed me his phone, and as I typed in my information, I asked, “Are you heading back to Southern California this morning?”
“No, I’m visiting my relatives. What about you?”
“I’m driving home right after brunch.”
I returned his phone to him and he sent me a text, so I’d have his number, too. Then we both stood up, and I impulsively grabbed him in a hug. “Thanks for taking care of me last night, Tory,” I said. “I was in no condition to wander around San Francisco on my own, and I hate to think what might have happened if you hadn’t stepped in.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
I held on to him for a long moment. Too long, probably. I really didn’t want to let go, but I didn’t want to make it weird either, so I finally stepped back and looked up at him. Maybe it was my imagination, but something that looked an awful lot like desire was burning in his dark eyes.
I wasn’t ready to see where that might lead, so I murmured, “I’d better go.”
He walked me to the door and held it open for me. “Take care, Armando. And text me, no matter what you decide about going out with me.”
“I will.” I started to head for the elevators. When I looked back at him, he shifted his gaze up from my ass and grinned at me. I should have said something flirty, but instead I just waved and kept walking.
Man, I sucked so bad at this. I’d never known how to flirt. In high school, Kit’s mom had been the one to pursue me, not the other way around. She’d been my first girlfriend, my first everything. Nine months later, I had a baby to think about. Dating didn’t just get moved to the back burner, it got shelved and all but forgotten.
Even after my son grew up, I barely dated. In part, it was because work really did take all my time. But also, I was shy and awkward and had no idea how to put myself out there.
I’d been in my early twenties when I admitted to myself I was bisexual, but I never did anything about it. Actually, I never did anything about my love life in general. I just sat back and waitedfor people to come to me. On the rare occasions I dated, it was either a blind date set up by mutual friends, or because someone asked me out. That hadn’t included any men—until now.
It was exciting… and also a little terrifying.
After showering and getting dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, I packed my things and carefully hung the tuxedo in its garment bag. I doubted I’d ever have a reason to wear it again, but my son Kit had had it custom-made for me, so I wanted to keep it nice.
I checked out of the hotel and drove across town to the pink Victorian Kit and his husband Devon called home. They were on a plane to Europe for their honeymoon, but three of their housemates had asked me to join them for brunch before I drove back to San Diego.
The only parking spot I could find was several blocks from my destination. That meant I was late by the time I finally climbed the Victorian’s front steps. I really hated that.
