“Yes,” Ian said immediately.His voice softened.“I want you to come over.”
By the time Sam finally called at 9:33, Ian was convinced he wasn’t interested in seeing him again.He steeled himself for it when he answered the phone.
It wouldn’t be so bad, right?Sam was his first attempt at emotional connectedness.There would be more opportunities.
I wantthisopportunity.
And thank fuck, he got it.He hung up the phone and immediately started making plans.The first order of business was to make the place welcoming for Sam.
He couldn’t see any way to avoid it; he called Jurgen.
Jurgen answered after two rings.“Hey.”
“Hey.”
After a few seconds of silence, Jurgen asked, “S’up?”
Ian took a deep breath.“Uh, I was wondering what kind of wine Nik likes to drink.”That’d probably be what Sam drank, right?
“Why do you care what kind of wine Nik drinks?”Jurgen asked.
He had to cough a blockage out of his throat before he could answer.“Just want to have it handy in case you guys stop by.”
“Hang on,” Jurgen said.Ian heard him ask, “What kind of wine does Sam drink?”
“Hell,” Ian muttered.Not that he should have expected to fool Jurgen.
Distantly, he heard Nik call back, “Tell him any chardonnay over seven dollars from 2011 will be fine.And chill it!”
“You get that?”Jurgen asked.“Neither one of us has to work on Tuesday, so we’ll be stopping by for dinner about six thirty.Don’t forget the wine.Make sure Sam’s there, too.”
“What is this, an inspection?”
“Yep,” Jurgen said.Then the smart-ass hung up.
Ian found the wine at the local grocery store.
“It’s good,” the dude working there said for about the third time when Ian asked.He was pretty sure the guy added “Jesus,” under his breath.
It was ten dollars, so it must be okay wine, right?He’d never pay that for a six-pack.Ian bought it, took it home, put it in the fridge, and immediately left again.
In the pickup he started the engine, and the digital clock on the dashboard lit up.It was only ten thirty.Sam didn’t get off work for an hour.He really should go back inside and wait.Watch some television.Maybe men’s gymnastics was on.
Fuck that.
He drove slowly.Then, when he got to Fatty’s, he circled the block a few times, pretending to look for a parking spot—completely ignoring Fatty’s lot.That ate up about five minutes.He gave in and ended up in customer parking: a space near the employee entrance, one where his pickup was fully illuminated in the light from the fixture mounted over the door.
A half hour wasn’tthatearly.
While he waited for Sam, he mentally reviewed his plan while watching his thumbnail trace the grooves in the gearshift knob.
Wine for Sam: check.
Beer for him: check.
Lube and condoms: check.
Half-formed, half-assed plan for what he wanted to do with Sam once he had him tipsy and lubed up: check.
