“Oh, really?”
Arthur peppered even more kisses on Jesse’s shoulder and then moved up higher to kiss Jesse’s neck too. At the same time, he began tip-toeing his fingers around in circles on Jesse’s stomach. Jesse started chuckling, and he squirmed even more.
“Stop, stop,” Jesse choked out through a laugh.
Chuckling, Arthur finally stilled his hands. He pressed one more kiss to Jesse’s cheek.
“Good morning, my sweet Jesse,” Arthur said with a sigh, settling back onto his side.
Jesse rolled over to face him. His eyelids were still a bit puffy from sleep.
“Beautiful, insufferable man,” he said.
Arthur smiled. After they shared a kiss, Arthur rolled onto his back to stretch and then reached toward the nightstand so that he could put on his glasses. Before he retrieved them, however, he noticed a balled-up piece of paper in between the nightstand and the bedframe. He leaned over to pick it up.
Jesse groaned.
“Am I not supposed to see this?” Arthur asked as he lay on his back, though he still began to uncrumple the paper.
Arthur figured that Jesse would physically stop him if he really was so opposed to Arthur seeing whatever it was. Arthur’s stomach swooped with a mixture of regret and fondness the moment he finished unfolding the paper.
It was a sketch of the modified Gordon Jobber.
“Oh, Mr. O’Connor, did you continue working on this for me?” he asked.
“Only for a little while. Until the night when . . . well . . .”
“Ah.” Until the night when Arthur had been a pretentious prick. Arthur studied the sketch some more. “Do you think that you may have figured out how to make it work?”
“No. Unfortunately, that sketch is practically the same as the one you have. It’s a little closer, I think, to beingsomething, but it’s not finished. It’ll never be.” His eyes turned sad, and the sight pulled at Arthur’s heart. “I can’t make a new type of printing press. I’m not a real engineer. I think I was only fooling myself before. I was so enamored with you. And I really wanted to impress you.”
“Youarea real engineer. At least, to me.”
“One who failed out of school.”
“Only so that he could become thebestcompositor in the entirety of Chicago and meet me, the most ineffectual industrialist to have ever lived.”
Jesse spluttered a laugh and knocked Arthur’s leg with his foot. Lowering the paper, Arthur turned his head to face Jesse.
“I really mean it, Jesse. You are so impressive to me.”
Jesse leaned forward and kissed Arthur softly on the lips. But his eyes were still so sorrowful.
“Do you think it would have made a difference?” he asked. “If I had come up with something in time?”
Oh, how horrible it was to think that Jesse had been wondering such a thing. Arthur hoped he could correct Jesse’s misconception. Because Arthur’s shortcomings, Arthur’s failures—they were solely his own.
“What I think,” Arthur began, “is that I sowed my wild oats when I was young, and now I must forever live with the consequences.” He heaved a sigh. “Jesse, it wasn’t my lack of ingenuity that prevented me from being chosen to exhibit. Or yours, for that matter, especially since I still think this creation of yours is incredible, regardless of whether or not you think that it would work if it was ever manufactured. It was my past behavior, most likely, that prevented the organizers from wanting to have me be part of the fair. And no modified Gordon Jobber, no matter how magnificent, could have changed the past.”
Jesse nuzzled his nose. “Thank you,” he said, “for making me feel better.”
Arthur rolled over to face him. Jesse swept a hand through Arthur’s hair.
After a moment, Arthur said, “You know, I initially let myself believe the organizers’ problem with me was because I couldn’t pay them as handsomely as some, but I’m starting to realize that the money I was offering had to have been enough. Or, God,morethan enough, even. I mean, my parents may have withheld some money from me when I was forced to first be on my own, but trust me, they still left me plenty, in addition to leaving me my mansion. And I’ve made ashamefulamount since. Despite what my father might think of the sum of it. Really, I... Jesse, I promise I’m not trying to sound like a braggart, but I’m extraordinarily wealthy. Ithadto have been something else that held the folks from the fair back for so long, though I can’t fathom why they even pretended to entertain the possibility of me exhibiting if they really were so scandalized by my past behavior.”
Jesse stroked Arthur’s cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s better that everything unfolded the way that it did.”
