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I turned around in a small circle, sight moving over the lobby to the theater and then to the concession stand. The place would basically need to be gutted and redone to keep the interior and exterior the same as it had been when the place had been built back in the late ’40s. That would be expensive. Restoration was a costly and time-consuming thing, but what the hell else did I have to do? Also, this tiny playhouse had been where I’d caught the acting bug. God knows she should be paid back.
“Sold.” I held out my hand. Minnie squeaked and grasped my hand, pumping it like only a politician could.
“That is excellent news! Most excellent! I had a good feeling when I heard you were back on the isle.” She nearly shook my arm free from its socket. Who knew a little lady who ran a tiny town and an art gallery could shake like Arnold Schwarzenegger? “Give me two days to get the paperwork lined up and we’ll meet in the courthouse and sign over the property to you.”
“That’s perfect. I can call my accountant and get the money moved from one place to the other. I assume you’ll want a cashier’s check for the full amount?”
“Yes! That will be wonderful. Oh, we can finally do some road work now. And improve the docks here on the tip. Elias, you have no idea how much this will improve the town! And we’ll be having new shows here as well! With a big-name actor producing and perhaps performing!”
I wanted to tell her not to get that horse in front of that particular buggy, but she was on a roll. And if I knew one thing, it was to never try to outtalk a politician. I’d schmoozed with governors, senators, and even a president or two in my illustrious career. Best to let them filibuster, then try to squeeze in a word or two.
Fifteen minutes later I was back out in the sun, Minnie having hurried back to her gallery to get the wheels rolling on the playhouse purchase, my phone to my ear. My ball cap was still in my back pocket. The fresh salt air and hot rays felt good after spending so much time in all that dankness. My accountant was sputtering in my ear about possibly holding off on major investments until my career was on more stable ground.
“Just get the money ready and put it into a cashier’s check written out to the Town of Kesside Bay and have it ready by tomorrow.” That was a little short, I knew, but since he had just informed me not five minutes ago that he couldn’t in good conscience continue handling my financial affairs due to my being part of a community he didn’t believe in—like he thought LGBTQ people were in the same realm as Santa Claus—I was not feeling all that polite.
We ended the call—and a seven-year working relationship—with that last sniping comment from me. Ralph would do as I asked about this, I was sure, then he would wash his hands of my scandalous gay ass. Fine. I was done working with people who were bigots. It wouldn’t be hard for Elle to find me a new accountant. And a new PR firm since mine kicked me to the curb yesterday. Yay Team Elias Lake. Woohoo.
“You look like you could stand a friend to give you a cupcake.” I heard the sexy low purr of Gibson beside me. I glanced to the right and there he was, pottery schmutz on the tip of his nose, his gorgeous hair pulled haphazardly back from his dynamic face. In his hands was a small blue box from the local baked goods shop. The furrows on my brow disappeared. “Bad day?”
“Fifty-fifty. What’s in here? Why are you here? Do you not have a shop to run? And why are you smiling at me as if you have a secret?”
“Such a curious man,” he teased, shifting out of the sun to stand in the shade of the canopy that held the marquee. “Open it and see.”
I stepped out of the sun, smiling softly, and I lifted the lid to find a cupcake with white frosting with delicate little candy hearts.
“It’s not Valentine’s Day,” I said, lifting the glorious creation from the box. “Oh my God, is this red velvet?”
He nodded and took the empty box from me. “It is. You seemed to enjoy the cake we had for dessert the other night.”
“Enjoyed it? I made a damn pig of myself over it. I’m still trying to pedal off the pounds it packed onto my ass.”
He took a theatrical lean back to check out my rump. “Looks as delightful as it did the last time I saw it.”
“You dirty old man,” I joked as I peeled the cupcake paper away from the rich, red cake and took a big bite. Big like half the cupcake. Gibson’s light blue eyes flared. “Rug bag.” I held up a finger, chewing and swallowing as fast as I could without choking. “Rough day.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He reached out to wipe some frosting from my lower lip. I watched, mesmerized, as he licked the icing from the tip of his finger. My cock twitched.
“Truthfully, it’s been fifty-fifty.” I held out the other half to him. Two kids on bikes raced by, nearly running over my toes. Someone tooted a boat horn. The sound of passengers disembarking from a tour boat drifted by. None of it really seemed to register as I watched, dick growing fatter by the second, as Gibson took my hand, held it still, and took a teensy bite. Then he led the treat back to my mouth. I opened. He gently pressed it in and smiled at me, eyes blazing with desire. Dear Lord. I was questioning if we should move away from the old building before we set things on fire.
“Well then, there must have been some good things taking place if it was fifty-fifty. Tell me about the good things while we walk to the wine shop.”
“Mm, you’re very pushy,” I said around the final bite of cupcake.
“I know. Do you mind?”
“God no,” I replied, wiping at my mouth with the back of my wrist. We couldn’t walk side-by-side due to the amount of people, so we went single file, not really talking until we stepped into the cool interior of the wine shop. Gibson turned to look at me beside a rack of white wine.
“Okay, so the good news?”
“Oh, I just bought the playhouse.”
He literally gasped and grinned. “That is amazing news! Elias, I’m so happy for you and the town. The arts shall not die on Kesside this day!” He announced it like the finest of Shakespearean actors. Several customers turned to look our way. I chuckled softly. “This calls for a celebratory feast. Would you like to come to my cabin for something decadent?”
“What exactly is the decadence you’re talking about? Food, wine, or something else?”
His gaze met and held mine. “All the above?”
My body thrummed with want. “What time is dinner? I’ll bring an appetizer.”
