After the paper flopped out, Arthur hurried over to take a look while Jesse returned the cylinder to its original position.
“It looks perfect,” Arthur said proudly, his eyes scanning the page.
Jesse inspected it. “Mmm . . . not bad.”
“Does this press always require two people to operate it?”
“Ideally,” Jesse replied.
Arthur began tapping his lips with one of his fingers, covering the lower part of his face with his hand. It seemed to be a habit of his. One that Jesse found terribly endearing. Jesse’s muscles tensed as he braced himself for what Arthur might say next.
“Would you want to help me talk about this one, then? If I’m asked to show the organizers how it works? Or, otherwise, if I’m ever asked to demonstrate how one of these presses operates at one of the private events at the fair?”
Jesse’s stomach fluttered and twisted, making him feel both ill and elated at once.
“I... could,” Jesse said, cautiously. “I hadn’t really settled on visiting the fair myself, though.”
Arthur’s big, beautiful eyes went wide.
“What? Why not? It will be the most spectacular event of the century.”
Jesse snorted. “Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
“Is it? I mean, there will be new inventions to see. New foods to try.Electricity!”
“I’ve seen electricity.”
“God, Jesse, so have I. I have it in my home.” Jesse barely resisted the urge to curl his lip. How fortunate this man was. “But not like this.Trustme.” Arthur let the sheet of newspaper flutter to the floor. He was seemingly incapable of placing these things on tables where they belonged. After a moment, Arthur took a step toward Jesse and placed his hands on both of Jesse’s shoulders, his movement wrought with urgency. “Youmustvisit the fair.At leastonce.”
Jesse’s stomach fluttered some more, both from the feel of Arthur’s touch and from the slightly harrowing realization that he couldn’t manage to not enjoy Arthur’s unbridled, child-like enthusiasm. Arthur really was the most ridiculous man he had ever met.
“I’ll consider it,” Jesse said reluctantly.
“Good.” Arthur released Jesse’s shoulders and took a step back. “Well, regardless of whether or not you intend on seeing the rest of the fairgrounds, it seems to me that you’ll have to see the hallwhere the printing presses are now that you’ve agreed to help me.” He paused to raise his eyebrows a couple of times, his expression playful and eager. Oh, God, the man’s personality wasintoxicating.“And I betthatwill entice you to see the rest of the fair, then, too. Perhaps we could explore it together, even.”
Jesse mentally fumbled for a response. Arthur was being way too familiar with him. He wasn’t even bothering topretendto be subtle anymore. Arthur wanted him. Jesse was sure of it. And God help him, he was starting to want Arthur, too.
Arthur cleared his throat, his smile faltering as though he took Jesse’s silence as rejection.
“Anyway...” Arthur rubbed his hands together for a couple of seconds. “I think it would behoove us to head to my other shop now. I wouldn’t want to keep you late today.”
It seemed that Jesse’s stunned silence had saved him. For now.
He managed a soft, “Yes, I think that would be best,” in response.
So, Jesse and Arthur put on their hats, gloves, and coats, and headed over to Hughes Press. It had been a long time since Jesse had operated one of the larger presses, but he was confident that he would remember well enough to provide a basic overview.
Cold winter wind whipped around them as they traversed the streets of Chicago. Once the two men had made it a half of a block, it began to snow. Catching a few fat, wet snowflakes on his gloved hand, Jesse wondered whether the snow would stick. It was probably cold enough. In fact, it was rather surprising that there hadn’t been much snow over the past few weeks, when compared to some previous Januarys.
Jesse’s eyes flitted over to Arthur. Arthur was smiling, his chin lifted toward the sky, his eyes exploring the clouds. Despite Arthur’s rosy cheeks and red-tipped nose, he looked completely comfortable in the frigid weather. Jesse had to fight to contain abitter laugh. Arthurwouldbe the type to enjoy the winter months. He seemed like the sort of person who could truly enjoy life’s pleasures as they presented themselves and could find happiness in life’s harshest moments, too. He seemed... naïve in a way. Which made sense, perhaps. Arthur Hughes had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Jesse O’Connor, on the other hand, only owned three spoons, and every one of them was made of cheap pewter.
Arthur caught Jesse staring right before they reached the shop.
“What?” he asked Jesse, still smiling as though he thought that the world was wonderful and fair and filled with possibility.
Jesse let out a fast breath, causing a little cloud of vapor to puff into existence in front of his face.
“Nothing,” he said. “It’s cold.”
