chapter one
camilo
“You better hurry up before I do too much damage at this open bar. Holy shit this thing is lit!”
I heard a tortured groan over the phone at my excitement. My coworker Ayako was running late.
“I’m on my way! Traffic is crazy. I don’t know why I took a Lyft from Astoria during rush hour. It would’ve taken me half the time on the subway. Don’t drink all the champagne, Camilo!”
I twisted my mouth to the side like she could see me and gave her the real talk she clearly needed. “I can’t make any promises. Imma let you go. I see the bar, and it’s not too busy.”
“Okay.” With the way she sighed, you’d think this was a life-or-death situation, not that she was running late to get her open bar drinking on. “We just passed the Brooklyn Bridge. I should be there soon.”
I ended the call with Ayako as I got to the complimentary alcohol distribution area. Once again, I was glad for my finely-honed fashion sense. Stopping home after work to change into a suit was the right call, because this thing was fancy. I thanked my lucky stars for my job and my boss, as I glanced around the huge and beautifully decorated room where the Roi Green Center, a social services agency for homeless LGBT youth, was hosting its annual Fall Gala.
The event was at Cipriani Wall Street, which was as posh as you could get in New York City, and Ayako and I each had a seat at one of the tables. The room was decorated to look like Central Park in the fall. Lots of yellows, oranges, and reds—it was stunning.
Melissa, the executive director of New Beginning, the agency Ayako and I worked for, bought two tickets for a thousand bucks a pop, but at the last minute had to stay home with a sick wife and kid. She’d sent an email offering the tickets to all the department directors and Ayako and I had jumped on them within seconds. Being a social worker didn’t exactly pay enough to be able to do this kind of thing. So, after a very stressful week at work and some personal life fuckery, I was ready to pounce on the unlimited free alcoholic beverages.
After giving the bar offeringsandthe bartender an assessing look, I leaned on the polished dark wood surface raising my finger. “I’ll have a glass of champagne, please.”
He winked at me in response and got busy pouring. Within a few seconds I had a glass of chilled Moët & Chandon in my hands. I lifted my glass to him while I put a couple of bills in the tip jar with my other hand. He gave me a big smile and went to serve another customer, as I followed his movements with my eyes.
He was hot.
Had a bit of a Jason Momoa flow going on. I wondered how tacky it would be to pick up a guy at this thing. I’d only been here five minutes and had already gotten in some low-key, high-quality flirting and was sipping top-shelf champagne. I was musing on how the evening was already a success even if I went home right then, when I heard a deep and smoky voice from somewhere on my left.
“I like your suit.” I lifted my eyes and found a gorgeous man smiling down at me. Yeah, this night was definitely one for the books already.
“That’s a pretty mid pick up line,” I said, as I ran my free hand over the front of my jacket. “But I agree this suit looks amazing on me.” He laughed, like I wasn’t being one hundred percent serious.
Iwasrocking my Topman burgundy suit with a navy shirt and tie. I’d even gone for the messy man bun Ayako always said made me look extra fuckable.
I knew I looked hot.
I turned so I was fully facing the guy and gave him a thorough once-over as I sipped my Moët. I had to admit there was a lot to like there. He must have been a few inches over six feet, because he stood a full head over my five feet and eight inches.
He was big, too. Yum.
Dark brown hair in a short-but-stylish cut and hazel eyes. His mouth was small, but perfectly shaped and at the moment, the corners were tipped up into a tiny grin while he stood there letting me run my eyes all over him. I had an urge to push up and nip on that bottom lip, just to see what he would do.
Instead I kept exploring the very substantial landscape of his body. Broad shoulders, tapered waist. Dead sexy. It was all I could do not sigh. He was averygood-looking man. His suit was navy blue, and he had a boring white shirt and red tie on. It fit him well though, like it was painted on. Once I was done with my inspection, I shrugged as he grinned at me.
“Your suit is pretty boring, but it’s—” I cleared my throat “—a good fit. Although I have a feeling you could wear a trash bag and you’d still look hot.” I went out on a limb on that one, assuming—given the type of event—we were all family here.
Besides, he started it.
Another deep laugh burst out of him, his eyes crinkling as he shook his head. Like he couldn’t believe I’d just said that. He seemed like he was about to say something else when Ayako barreled in between us.
“Oh my god! I saw bottles of Moët, this is fancay.” After she gave me a kiss on the cheek she leaned back to get a good look at me. “Damn, you got your ‘Come Fuck Me’ suit on, niiiiice.” She stretched out the last word as she leered at me, totally unaware she had interrupted something. Meanwhile Tall, Dark, and Sexy behind her was turning purple from trying not to laugh.
Ayako was wearing a short magenta cocktail dress which looked amazing on her and she kept shaking her shoulders at me, clearly fishing for a compliment. I rolled my eyes at her and complied. “You look stunning, friend.”
She preened at that. “You’re fucking right I do.”
“You’re so modest.” I teased, making her snort which would’ve been cute if she wasn’t blocking my view of Hot Guy in the Boring Suit.
Ayako and I went way back, were extra tight because we both had Jamaican dads, and our moms were also immigrants—hers Japanese while mine was Cuban. We met in grad school and bonded over our love for Golden Krust and hip-hop classes. After school we’d both ended up working at the same agencies. She was a fucking riot and I loved her, but right now she was totally cock-blocking me.
