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“Because I’m embarrassed. It’s so hard to talk about the fact that I used to be a prostitute.”
“Please don’t be embarrassed,” I said. “I was in the same position you were, so I totally understand how you got there.”
“But you never resorted to prostitution.”
“Sure I did. That’s what I meant when I called my time with Mason Simeck a business arrangement. He might not have paid me in cash, but he supplied me with drugs and gave me a place to stay, and in return I let him fuck me, torture me, and basically do whatever he wanted to get his rocks off. Looking back now, it’s horrifying that I allowed those things to happen. But at the time, it was what I felt I needed to do to survive and get my next fix.”
He whispered, “Fuck,” and put down his coffee cup. Then he climbed onto the bed with me and grabbed me in a hug. After a while, he said, “You might have some concerns about dating an ex-prostitute, so I want you to know I’ve been tested repeatedly and by some miracle, my results were always negative. I just thought I should put that out there.”
“For future reference, I’ve been tested too, and my results were negative. I really don’t know how I dodged that bullet, given some of the choices I made when I was using.”
Gabriel said, “I’m glad we got this conversation out of the way. I was worried it’d be really awkward.”
“Nah. We can talk about anything. I think we just proved that.”
He kissed my forehead and climbed off the bed, then changed the subject by saying, “I should keep packing. I don’t know what time your friend is planning to leave, but I don’t want to keep him waiting.”
Between the two of us, we managed to get the suitcase zipped. Next, he packed his sewing machine in its plastic case and gathered some spools of thread and other supplies in a floral tote. There wasn’t enough room for a sketch pad, so I put one in my backpack for him.
Once he finished packing, he went to take a shower. When he returned, he was dressed in his blue robe, and he was carrying an overflowing cosmetics bag, along with an armload of bottles. A cloud of steam and the sweet smell of his shampoo wafted through the bathroom door. He dropped his supplies on the bed and sat down with them as he said, “I’m going to see if I can pare this down to just the essentials.”
“I’ll get my shower while you do that.”
By the time I returned from the bathroom with a towel around my hips, Gabriel had piled a lot of makeup onto his nightstand. Lined up in front of him were a few basic cosmetics, along with his grooming supplies, and he muttered, “I’m terrible at traveling light, but I think this’ll do.” It was gratifying when he glanced at me, then looked again and ran his gaze down my body.
“I’m going to have two huge makeup kits with me, one for the set and the other for my fantasy makeup. You’re welcome to use anything you want.”
“Thanks. That’ll be fun.”
He looked up at me when I came over and stood in front of him, and I ran my fingers over his freshly shaved cheek as I asked, “Can I do your makeup?”
“Today, you mean?” When I nodded, he said, “I’d love it if you did that for me once we’re in San Francisco, but I’m not going to wear any today. It’s just not the day for it.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s one thing to be femme here at work where everyone knows me, and San Francisco is an open-minded place overall. But between here and there is a big stretch of the kind of place I grew up in—rural, small-town America. Some days, I feel strong enough to weather the stares and disparaging comments I usually get in places like that. Other days, like today, I just want to fly under the radar.”
I muttered, “I hate the fact that you can’t be yourself wherever you go.”
“That’s on me, though. There will always be plenty of haters in the world. All I can do is get myself to a point where I feel strong and confident no matter where I am,” he said.
“If you ever want me to beat up any of those haters for you, just let me know.”
He grinned and said, “You’d make a great knight in shining armor, but I don’t think we’ll have to go there.” Then he went back to packing his toiletry kit, so I found my backpack and pulled out my last clean outfit. I hung my towel over the back of a chair and took a few moments to try to shake the wrinkles out of my T-shirt.
