“Of course, dear.”
“Now you’re just humoring me. Anyway, he’s willing to try it again. Which reminds me, do you think you can take over the afternoon shift on Wednesday? We’re usually sold out around four.”
Debbie didn’t hesitate. She usually only did the morning shifts to be home when her children got back from school, but she was surprisingly flexible, probably because her oldest boys were already eighteen, sixteen, and fifteen. “No problem. It will give Geoff a chance to get off my shit list. And when he’s babysitting his brothers, he can’t get into any trouble.”
Geoff was her second oldest and currently going through a rebellious phase. Andrew nodded.
“Thank you, Debbie. I’m leaving around half past one.”
“That’s fine, boss. Don’t worry, at least not about the shop. Just don’t blow that date as well.”
Andrew threw his hands in the air. “Thanks for the vote of confidence! Oh, how I can feel the love!”
“Just a tip, sarcasm won’t get you far with your date. Charm and eloquence are what you want to show.”
Andrew prepared for a sharp answer, because he loved the constant bickering with Debbie, but the chime of the shop door put an end to this particular match. He grabbed the empty griddle and plates to return them to the kitchen before he joined Debbie in the fight against the eleven o’clock rush. Glad his business was going so well after three short months, Andrew didn’t complain.
Chapter 9
ANDREW WASsitting in his car outside Curtis’s gallery, taking a last look at his face in the rearview mirror. He was dressed in black jeans, his black biker boots, which he had polished until they gleamed, and a deep red button-down with the sleeves rolled up. Since he knew there was no way he could compete with the kind of styles the other guests at the opening would probably be wearing, he had opted for something he felt comfortable in. That the shirt and the jeans were just tight enough to nicely highlight his ass and shoulders without being too obvious about it was a bonus. With Tim’s encouraging words in mind—Don’t forget, just be yourself, and trust Curtis to come to his own conclusions—and a box of macarons in hand, he exited the car.
The gallery was at the ground floor of a modern building that also housed an international law firm and an accounting firm. Through the huge glass doors, he could see part of the showroom and some interesting sculptures. There was no flashy sign anywhere, just a discreet brass plate to the right side of the door, announcing he was entering theCurtis Morris Gallery. For a brief moment, Andrew wondered how people knew the gallery’s opening hours when there was no sign, but they probably checked on the internet, like he had done, or simply knew. Perhaps he could ask Curtis about it later. Andrew stepped through the doors into the cool air of the gallery. Before he had a chance to take a look around, a tall, African-American woman who was made even taller by her stilettos, descended on him like an eagle on a lamb.
“You must be Andrew! Curtis has told me you’re picking him up. I’m Patty, his PA. He’s getting ready for the opening, so why don’t you come with me? I can make you a cup of coffee or an espresso, if you’d like. Oh, and you brought him something? How sweet of you.” Her perfectly manicured hands dug into his biceps like claws while she dragged him through the first showroom, as he now realized, toward a short hall with two doors on each side. They entered the first room to the left, which turned out to be some kind of common room, with a small, blinding white kitchenette, a huge coffee maker, two white leather sofas, and a small coffee table made of blue glass. “Please, sit down. Espresso?” Patty took the box with the macarons from him and placed it on the coffee table before she turned her attention to the coffee maker. Grateful for this short reprieve, Andrew sank into one of the sofas. It was sinfully comfortable. “Uhm, yes. An espresso would be great.”
“On the way.”
Spitting and hissing, the coffee maker came to life, gurgling out a cup of espresso with a more than satisfying layer of crema on top, as Andrew could see when Patty brought him the cup. He smiled at her, still not sure how to handle the situation. Patty made herself a café latte in an elegant glass cup and came to sit down on the other sofa. For some time, neither of them spoke. Andrew was almost sure Patty was testing him in some way, but as a Dom, he knew about power play, and the silence game never had an effect on him, much to his mother’s and sister’s dismay. After Patty had stirred her latte long enough to not only destroy the artful pattern on the foam, but also to swirl the layers of coffee and milk until it was all one light brown mush, she raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow.
“I can see you have the backbone. That’s good. What about the heart?”
As it seemed, Andrew had passed part of the test. Now he wondered how to proceed. He didn’t know this woman, though it wasn’t terribly hard to deduce that she felt protective of Curtis, which was good but also unnerving. Being honest to her would certainly earn him some brownie points, though he wasn’t sure how much of his private life he should bare to her—if any. He didn’t evenknowif there was a private life with Curtis for him.
“Unlike you, he has one, Patty.” Curtis’s voice sounded amused, not angry, so this had to be normal behavior for Patty. The woman pouted.
“I do have a heart, Curtis. You should know; you’re one of the few who live in it.”
This time Curtis laughed out loud. “I do know, Patty. I was just trying to rescue my date. Hello, Andrew.”
Curtis approached the sofa and Andrew hurried to get up. The man looked gorgeous. His salt-and-pepper hair was once again artfully tousled, his eyes twinkled in amusement, the light blue button-down with the white pinstripes he wore harmonized perfectly with his anthracite slacks and black loafers. Andrew couldn’t believe his luck.
“Hello, Curtis. You look beautiful.”
Curtis actually blushed. Andrew’s self-confidence rose, and with a cocky grin, he took the box of macarons and held it out to his date. “Here, for you. I thought you might have eaten the others already.”
“Thank you, Andrew. That’s so thoughtful of you.” Curtis took the box with a happy smile that made Andrew feel as if he were ten feet tall. He opened his mouth to give a reply but was cut short by Patty’s delighted squeal.
“You’re the bringer of macarons? Wonderful!” She clapped. “Curtis only gave me two, can you imagine? He’s so bad at sharing.” The dark look she threw in Curtis’s direction was probably meant to be menacing, but Curtis only laughed.
“They were a gift to me, you vulture. Besides, they have, like, a ton of calories, so I was actually doing you a favor.”
Patty stuck her tongue out at them. Andrew decided this was a good chance to sling an arm around Curtis’s waist. They hadn’t reached the kissing state yet, though the tingling that went through his body just touching Curtis promised something special. Curtis didn’t seem to mind. He snuggled into Andrew’s side as if he belonged there. His head was just high enough to rest comfortably against Andrew’s shoulder, and Andrew decided he loved having Curtis so close. Patty’s gagging noises drew him out of his happy haze.
“There’s nothing worse than young love. Gah.” She made a shooing gesture with her hands. “Come on, leave. Before I barf all over the white leather.”
Curtis just shook his head. “Sometimes I don’t know why I’m putting up with you. It can’t be your charming personality, for sure.” He looked up to Andrew. “I’ll give you the tour, and then we can head to the PAMM.”
Andrew nodded. “I’d love to see your workplace.”
