“No, ma’am. That dog loves you. Maybe I’ll get one, though—especially if Mikey takes that job in Pennsylvania.”
Mikey, who had been quiet for much of this conversation, spoke. “Nope. You don’t have to worry about that.”
George looked at him, assessing. He wanted badly to smile, but he couldn’t—he couldn’t in any way let himself influence Mikey’s career... not this early on.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Mikey nodded.
“I mean it. I don’t want to affect your decision regarding that promotion.”
“You’re not. I turned it down this morning.”
George fought harder to suppress the grin. “And you’re OK with that?”
“I belong here, George. The job may pay more, but it’s in Bumfuck, PA, population five hundred twenty-seven... and I would be at a stupid desk all day, in a stupid building, dealing with stupid problems in the middle of nowhere—far from the cities and the people I love. I may not make as much money now, but I’m outdoors most of the day and I get to sing and make people happy. And if all I have to deal with is the station drama for a couple of hours every morning, so be it. I’m not giving that up. Fuck the money. I’m not giving you up.”
George looked at Mikey, eyes welling, no longer able to suppress his growing smile.
“That’s right, George. Youwerea factor in the decision, whether you like it or not. I don’t care. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m not doing anything to mess that up. So there.”
George leaned in close to him. “I love you, Mikey Napolitano. You can sing it to the world if you want.”
“I love you too, George—so much it hurts. But it’s getting better, especially now.”
“Will you two just kiss already?” May pleaded.
They did, both caught up in the moment, mashing their faces together like teenagers desperate to quell an urge—at last crossing that divide where deeper passion flamed and uncertainty waned.
And it felt right.
When they parted, both grinning drunkenly, Mikey whispered, “You don’t have to get a dog, George. I’ll be your dog.”
Chapter 23
Ginger slipped in the door just as George was locking up for the day.
“Hey, there! Glad you could make it. And early too.”
“Hi, George,” she said looking lovely, tossing sweet-smelling auburn hair back over her shoulder. “Office closed early. Figured I’m already in the city, might as well come and see if there is anything I can do to help. Zac was worried that the lunch crowd might surprise you.”
“It was decent, but nothing spectacular. He’s finishing up dishes now. Come on back.”
She followed him to the kitchen, a small duffel in hand.
“Look who I found out front,” George said, holding the door for her.
Zac was drying his hands on a dishtowel. His eyes lit up at the sight of his fiancé. “Hey, babe.”
They embraced slow and long. George sensed the sexual energy emanating from them, almost tangible.
“You know, we have time and this is a casual thing. Zac, why don’t you guys go have some fun. I got this.”
“No way, boss. I haven’t done my dessert or the bread. Ginger can help with front-of-house, setting tables.”
“May’s helping me with that. Besides, Ginger looks like she may be hungry for a little more than a Christmas Eve dinner.”
George’s intuitive remark had not startled her at all. Instead, she confirmed his suspicions with a fraternal grin. She’d set her bag down, but lingered close to Zac, her body-language further proving George’s hunch. She was a beautiful young woman, professionally dressed in a white blouse and a crisp black, knee-length skirt. She placed both her hands on Zac’s shoulders, turning him to look her square in the eye. “He is your employer, you know. Maybe you should listen to him.”
