"OK. I'm selfish. I don't want to lose you. Who else would suffer Tuesday Tunes with me? The
Circle?"
"I'm not talking forever. Just a month. If I'm going to change a writing perspective, I think I need to change my perspective."
"What about Mac?
"I haven't told him yet."
Demarco overly feigned surprise, then relaxed the drama. "OK. I can give you up for a month.
But the Circle…"
"The Circle doesn't havethatmuch of a hold on me."
"Yeah, it does. You may not think so, but your writing lives and breathes it.The Postneeds you, Alec. You represent."
"That's not fair. I'm not here to be a spokesperson for gays of the city. Most of it's fluff anyway."
"It's good fluff."
"It's dishy. It sells. I can do better."
"I know you can."
"So are you onboard?"
"It's not up to me. You need to talk to your man," Demarco nodded toward the bar, but Mac was gone, replaced by some other shirtless hunk.
"I needyourapproval too. It's a big venture. I have insecurities."
Demarco eyed him for a minute. Alec was referring to the writing shift as much as the travel
involved. "OK. But you have to Skype. Daily."
"Maybe every other day."
"See. She's already got one foot out the door."
"And it has to be somewhere I'm not too comfortable. If I go to the beach, I'll just play. I'll stroll for inspiration, get distracted, and just waste time. If I'm in the mountains, I'll be alone. No
distractions."
"Except for the killer in the woods."
"Would you stop?"
"Fine. Go on with yourself. I'll be waiting when you come back to me.We'll always have
Dupont.
"I love you."
"It's my luxurious, ebony skin… that's what I'm told."
"No. Just you."
"Ditto, kiddo."
