But something in his eyes didn’t sit right. Not knowing a thing about him, I couldn’t figure it out, but I hoped James would give him this job helping José, and then we’d spend more time together. I wanted to know who he was.
“What time did you tell your boss we’d be there? I see it’s after one now.”
“Yeah. Any time after three’s good. I figure we can hang out here for a while, then leave for the club around two thirty.”
“All right.” Harlan picked up his plate and brought it over to the sink. He didn’t wash it but remained standing, staring into nothing. He glanced over his shoulder at me. “I, uh, what do I wash this with? You don’t have a dishwasher, correct?”
I snorted. “Yeah. Me. Step aside, and I’ll show you how it’s done.”
I cleaned all the dishes and pans and put them in the dish drain to dry while Harlan watched. I had the strange feeling he hadn’t ever done this before. He wasn’t like Frankie and me. He reminded me of Austin. Harlan came from money, I’d bet, and lots of it.
Yet here he stood in my kitchen, wearing borrowed clothes, homeless, and with no job. At Man Up, we’d learned to listen to the problems of the men we danced for, and I’d heard it all. In Harlan I recognized the look of a man concealing something.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this for me. I’m a stranger and have nothing to give you in return.” Harlan had gone back to the sofa and directed that wary, steady gaze at me across the room.
Taking my time to answer, I dried my hands on a dish towel, then joined him in the living room. I sat in the big old chair I’d found in the thrift store down the block.
“I don’t understand why everyone thinks life is tit for tat. Why, if I give you something, that means you owe me. You think you’re giving me nothin’? Do you know what I’d be doin’ right now if you weren’t here?”
He shook his head.
“Nothin’. I’ve been in New York over a year and hardly know anyone except for my friends at the club and a couple of people at the bookstore. I ain’t used to that. At home I could walk down the street anytime and see people who’d say hi and how’re you and stop to talk. Here, they’d probably call the cops if I did that.”
“You’re probably right. We don’t take the time to say hello to anyone. We’re too busy running.”
“And that’s a damn shame. ’Cause from what I’ve seen, y’all are running away from people and to things. Y’all need to slow down and enjoy what you got in front of you before it’s gone.”
Admiration shone in Harlan’s eyes. And he really had some pretty blue eyes.
“Looks like you’ve got us figured out pretty damn well.”
“Nah. I keep myself open to everything, is all. But if you weren’t here? This is what I’d be doing. Sittin’ and starin’ at the television. Not watching it, but keeping it on for the noise. So while you think I’m doing so much for you, you’re giving me conversation. A person to talk to. You’re takin’ away my loneliness. Okay?”
A bit embarrassed at my outburst, I jumped up with a muttered, “Be right back,” and headed out the door. When I reached outside, I blinked against the bright sunlight. Traffic whizzed by, and people walked past me, some deep in conversation, others alone, busy staring at their phones. Feeling foolish, I turned right around and went inside, where I found Harlan standing in front of my coffeemaker with that same confused expression from before.
“Don’t blow up my kitchen,” I said gruffly, hoping like hell Harlan didn’t ask me why I’d rushed out. I didn’t know, myself.
He grinned at me, his whole face brightening, and my heart hurt so much. This was all I wanted—to have a home and a boyfriend waiting for me. But this ugly little apartment was no home, and Harlan was barely an acquaintance and the furthest thing from boyfriend material I could see. I put a smile on to match his and strode across the room.
“Give over and lemme show you how it’s done.”
I elbowed him away, spooned some grounds into the basket, and poured the water. “See? Thought you fancy boys knew all the machines.”
“I do, but I’ve only used those pods. And ‘fancy boys’?” He quirked a brow, leaning his hip against the counter. “What do you mean?”
The coffeemaker hiccupped and hissed in the background. “I can tell you’re smart. You got that look about you and how you talk. Probably went to one of them Ivy League schools. I see them plenty at the club.”
“Well, that may be true,” Harlan said lightly without giving anything away in his expression. “But it was all long ago. Another lifetime, it seems. Do you think I should get a haircut before I see your boss?”
I was getting used to his odd mood changes. I cocked my head to study him. His hair fell past his ears in tangled blond waves, and I wondered how it would feel between my fingers.Stop it, you idiot. He ain’t gay. An’ even if he were, he wouldn’t want you.
The coffeemaker beeped, and I poured two cups. “Milk?”
He shook his head and took the cup from me. “Thank you. Well?” he prodded. “Do you think I should?”
“It doesn’t really matter, but if you want one, I can take you to my barber.”
Harlan dipped his head. “Once again, Cort to the rescue.” He sipped. “You know, this would taste even better with a shot of whiskey in it.”
