Page 69 of Love Language

“It essentially boils down to this. You are the CEO. It is your job to decide things. Your people report to you, and they can give you advice, but ultimately you need to either make a decision yourself, or choose one person to make the decision and then stay out of that process. Who do you feel would best be equipped to make the decision about your company’s logo?”

Holy shit. Marco was impressed. And it seemed like it was actually working.

“Excellent. And who would be best equipped to make decisions about your company’s advertising materials? Yes, I see. Well, you need to appoint one of them. Yeah, you literally just say, ‘This is so-and-so’s project now. If anyone has input, please bring it to their attention.’”

Marco wondered if he felt like he was talking to a two-year-old. It sure looked like it.

“So, when can we expect your final verdict on the logo? Fantastic. I’ll tell Mr. Steinem to ignore all future emails from anyone else about the logo, and to look for emails from, who did you say, Jennifer, about the advertising campaign?”

Thank God. Jennifer was the most sane one of the bunch.

“Excellent. I apologize if this came on a bit strong, but this might be the most important lesson you learn as a businessman and it will certainly save you thousands of dollars on your graphic design. Have a lovely weekend. You too.”

And then he hung up.

Marco just sat there, stunned. How the hell had Greg gotten away with saying all that? He didn’t think it was just that Greg was hearing. It was his confidence, the way that he spoke from a place of expertise.

Where had this aggressive, slightly patronizing, and pushy creature come from?

Greg mimed bashing his head against the phone and then sank down onto the couch and handed it back to Marco.

I hope that was OK. He looked contrite. I think I got a bit carried away.

No, that was amazing, Marco enthused. You were amazing.

Greg beamed.

So, Maxwell is going to decide on the logo and Jennifer’s going to decide on everything else?

That’s right. If anyone tries to do differently just copy-paste a standard, “please see Jennifer about this matter.”

Marco threw his head back on the couch, his whole body limp in relief. Greg was a pro at this. Which shouldn’t be surprising given his almost thirty years of experience.

Marco felt unreasonably proud of him, even though he knew he couldn’t take any credit for anything beyond meeting him at a club and hanging around with him. Greg was just amazing all on his own.

And that sent an insidious little thought to the back of his head. Did Greg need him? It seemed like he did when he was grieving. But what if he didn’t anymore, now that he was swinging back into his life?

Marco pushed the thought aside.

Greg leaned into him, snuggling up against his side. It was an uncharacteristic move, as usually Marco initiated things like that. Was it because Greg was less interested, or because he thought that it was Marco’s job to decide things like that? And either way, what was different today?

He gathered Greg up into his arms, planting a kiss on his head. He should have felt close, but instead he felt like there was a gulf between them that was widening beneath his feet.

They were both quiet for the rest of the day. It was new to them, hanging out for longer periods without a real goal or destination. Greg put in a load of laundry. Marco made lunch. They went for a walk and ended up buying a few books from a street vendor.

Down the block, another vendor was selling her paintings and one of them caught Marco’s eye. It showed a rainy day with a gray-blue cityscape alight with bright umbrellas. He pointed it out to Greg, who bought it on the spot, without even haggling, with a plan to hang it in the living room.

Marco thought it would look out of place in Greg’s more austere home. But maybe all the design choices were Richard’s? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Had Richard not allowed him to decorate their home? And why hadn’t he made any changes in the past three years?

Or had he bought it because Marco liked it? And if so, what did that mean?

His ban on overthinking things was officially a disaster.

But Greg seemed pleased with the picture and hung it as soon as he got home. It added a lot of life and movement to the room.

Looking at the rich oil colors almost made Marco want to paint, which he hadn’t done in a long time.

He said as much to Greg, who proclaimed immediately that he would be honored to display anything that Marco painted for him. That was sweet. And encouraging. And made Marco want to overthink everything again.