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As my relationship with Alex progressed, Michael became invested, asking for updates, which I found sweet. He even took me out for a beer the first time I called Alex my boyfriend. He was referred to me by Sebastian Silverstone—my former coworker and current boss from hell—whose well-deserved punishment is to be at Michael’s father’s beck and call. Apparently, joining daddy dearest’s law firm requires a full makeover. Not that Michael wasn’t properly dressed before, but designer suits and big spendings are in order to “look the part.” How could I complain about that?
“Not quite. Making a boatload of money setting criminals free on technicalities rubs me the wrong way. My father claims that everyone’s entitled to representation, but…” He trails off and shakes his head, pursing his lips.
I scrunch my nose. He has a point, but discussing moral issues with him doesn’t feel right somehow. I delve into topics like this with my cousin Tom.
My attention goes back to his handsome face. I suppress a smile by worrying my lower lip with my canine teeth. Remaining professional, I don’t voice my opinion or mention his striking resemblance to Michael Lane, portrayed by Channing Tatum inMagic Mike. He hates being reminded of it and grew his hair out to make the likeness less blatant.
Eventually, he switches the subject. “But you don’t fool me. I see what you’re doing, Ash, derailing the conversation so that I drop the Nino issue. Let me tell you what. Let’s get this session over with and you can tell me all about this beautiful stranger over lunch. I’m buying.”
“Deal… and, for the record, I already told you how Nino and I met. He’s far from a stranger.”
“See, you’re doing it again.”
I offer him a sheepish smile. Words that I admitted to Nino come back to mind: I tend to babble when I’m edgy. It seems that his impending arrival has me all worked-up. Who would have thought? “Okay, back to business. I have just the thing for your work function tonight.” Without further ado, I disappear for a few minutes before handing over the quintessential three-piece suit.
“I apologize for being so distracted. Now… you can’t go wrong with French couture, Michael. Yves Saint Laurent is classic. What did they teach you in those elite schools of yours?” I tease my favorite client as he closes the curtain. I wouldn’t act so familiar, but Michael’s not a typical client. Much younger. Much funnier. Much hotter.
Noises indicating that he’s changing cause the corner of my lip to curl up. He raises his voice from his side of the opulent dressing room. “Not fashion, that’s for sure! But that’s where you step in.” He steps out. “Ta-da!”
“Wow! You look dashing.”
“Thank you. You nailed it. Classic yet modern… and with a bit of aPeaky Blindersfeel. You have a good eye.”
I nod, acknowledging his compliment. “AQueer Eye, you mean?” I wink and work my magic with pins and needles so it’s even better fitted.
“Ha-ha! I think you’re way hotter than Tan French.” He extends his arms to the side of his body.
“Ohhh, impressive. You know the fashion king’s name! Wow, who would have thought?” I whirl around him, taking in the fabric where necessary.
“Yeah, right, focus on that and not the fact that I was paying you a compliment. I’ll have you know that Lizzie, my grandma, is obsessed with him and anything fashion-related. She made loads of clothes for my mom back in the day despite being loaded. She even taught me how to sew when I was bedridden after my accident.” A blush taints his gorgeous features, as if he let too much slip. It’s not my place to pry, so I welcome the confession without pushing it. I’m glad to hear that the women in his life always supported him. “So, anyway,” he continues after admitting how much he admires his grandmother, “my dad would have had a stroke if I told him how much I enjoyed those sewing lessons. I’m pretty sure that he would’ve enrolled me in one of those military boot camps to compensate. No offense.”
I jut my head to inform him that I’m done without interrupting our conversation. “None taken, Michael. I’m well aware of your father’s traditional views.”
He doesn’t even bother with the curtain this time. “That’s a mild way of putting it.”
It is!
“Well, I’ve seen how your father’s eyes take me in whenever I’m around.” Hiding my sexual orientation isn’t an option. It’s a part of who I am, although it doesn’t define me. So far, I’ve been lucky enough to be able to disregard the inept comments and the heinous name-calling. Some say that I’m a twink; that doesn’t quite bother me as much as the rest of them. I may have dainty traits, but my sculpted body, courtesy of surfing and healthy eating habits, contradicts the definition. Either way, I don’t flaunt my attraction to men.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I’ll meet you in front of the store in an hour?”
Before I know it, we’re walking down the crowded Manhattan Avenue, and the conversation is steered to Nino. “All I’m saying is that the guy could be a serial killer and keep body parts in his freezer.”
“Wow, where did that come from? I never took you for a horror fan.”
“See, you never truly know someone, let alone a guy who magically appears, saves the day, and sneaks into your life.”
“You sound like Alex, but at least, you don’t mind talking about Nino, who isnota threat in any way, shape, or form.” Michael nods in acceptance. “My charming boyfriend is so stubborn. Alex’s refusal to meet Nino is maddening. Every time I mention Nino, he says that he isn’t interested in hearing about our friendship and redirects the conversation.” I roll my eyes. “But guess what? I’m not a child and don’t need him to approve of my friends. Ohhh, and get this: Alex let it slip that he was jealous of our familiarity but didn’t feel threatened by how much time I spend texting Nino because I ‘belong to him!’ Can you believe it? As much as I love him, his fickle ways and overbearing attitude can be a lot to handle …”
I clear my throat, embarrassed by my own admission until I put two and two together. “Now that I think about it, Alex acted the same way when I first met you.”
“Mmm… I guess you have a point. Did you tell him that Nino’s gay? Maybe that’s why Alexander is jealous. Like my short-sighted father, maybe he’s forgetting the difference between being attracted to some men and lusting after every guy with a heartbeat.”
“That would be unreasonable for a gay man, don’t you think?”
He shrugs, holding the front door of the restaurant open for me. “What do I know about gay men, right? Maybe it has nothing to do with Alexander’s sexual orientation. Maybe it’s his insecurities talking.”
I mull over his statement while we wait to be seated, then reply from the privacy of the corner booth. “Fair point. Some people can’t help their preconceived notions. Like my uncle. He means well, but his archaic views on how a family should function drive me crazy. He couldn’t stand it when I performed what he called ‘female tasks,’ like doing the dishes or the laundry. To be honest, I doubt he was pleased to get custody of a gay son.”
