“Me too.”
“Are you worried?”
“Mmm... somewhat.” Arthur caught Jesse’s finger mid-poke and then raised Jesse’s hand to kiss it. “I know I’ve impressed the fair’s organizers over the last few meetings that I’ve had with them. They must see how knowledgeable I am now, thanks to you, and I hope they know how much I care about the fair itself as well. But I wish I had something else that could really put me ahead of the others who want to showcase their businesses, especially since I’ve been told that there are folks who can pay more than I can for a spot in Machinery Hall. Alas, I am only a novice when it comes to printing presses. I could never come up with something new. Not like so many of these true innovators that will be showcasing their latest creations at various halls in the fair. All I know about printing presses I learned from you. And, of course, I know nothing of engineering.”
Jesse pondered this for a moment. Hemightbe able to help Arthur in this regard. Possibly. Maybe. He hadn’t looked at his old sketch of the modified Gordon Jobber in years, but he remembered having thought that he’d been close to coming up with something interesting. Something innovative.
“I might have something for you,” Jesse said.
He slid out of bed and headed toward his desk. Halfway there, he heard Arthur chuckling from behind him, and he couldn’t fight back a smile.
“Oh, God,” he sighed as he opened the top drawer. “Now what are you laughing about?”
Arthur climbed out of bed and started over to him. Before Jesse could begin rummaging in earnest, Arthur wrapped him up in a backward embrace and kissed his cheek.
“I was noticing your furry behind,” Arthur murmured into his ear.
Groaning wearily, Jesse hung his head. “Will youeverstop making me feel like my face is on the verge of melting off completely?”
“I’m not trying to embarrass you,” Arthur said, laughing some more. “I like your bum.”
“Arthur,please,” Jesse begged, but now he was laughing too.
“Please what?” Arthur lowered a hand to squeeze one of Jesse’s butt cheeks. “It’s so firm!” Humming, he kissed Jesse’s neck a few times, keeping one of his hands planted on Jesse’s backside. “Apologies, but Ilovethis bum of yours.”
Cheeks burning, Jesse spun around to face him. He caught Arthur’s mouth in a kiss but then took Arthur’s bottom lip between his teeth, issuing a silent warning before letting the man go.
“Will youpleaselet me find what I wanted to show you?” Jesse asked, pulling away.
“Yes, yes, fine,” Arthur said.
After turning back around, Jesse continued to look through his desk.
“Here it is,” Jesse said, pulling out a piece of paper.
He uncurled it and used both a paperweight and an inkwell to hold it flat. Arthur studied it for a bit.
“Is this . . .” Arthur started to say.
“It’s a sketch of a Gordon-style press,” Jesse said. “But I modified it. I once thought that maybe, somehow, I could change the press so that the operator could start it and then walk away to make a new forme or work on a Grasshopper or something.” He pointed to the portion he’d added to the front of it. “It could have a platform here. And a roller for feeding the paper onto the bed over here. I’m not convinced I’ve figured out the foot pedal yet, but there must be a way—”
“You thought all of this up yourself?” Arthur asked.
Jesse huffed an uncomfortable half laugh, a small swell of pride unfurling in his chest.
“It’s not that impressive. I can’t yet figure out how to make it work without having someone constantly press the foot pedal. And I haven’t thought of a way to remove the paper from the bed once the printing is finished, either.” He handed the paper to Arthur. “Still, it’s something new, right? Or something that’scloseto being something new. I wonder if Mr. Burnham or his colleagues might like it.”
“Jesse, this is spectacular,” Arthur said. “God, how sweet of you.”
Blushing, Jesse rolled his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Do you want to keep it?” he asked. “I’m not sure when you’ll be meeting with those people next, but maybe you could... show it to them.”
Jesse’s heart thundered as he waited for a response.
Arthur’s eyebrows rose momentarily, and then, slowly, his face fell and he pursed his lips.
“Hmm . . . I suppose I could.”
