I scrolled through the pictures I’d taken of Sean and me on the boardwalk and sent Evan the best one. Within seconds, my phone vibrated with a call from him. “Hello?”
“Oh. My. God. First of all, he’s way hotter than I remembered.” I heard Raphael say something in the background, and Evan said, “Darling, you’re the hottest man on the planet. No contest.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes hard.
“Second,” Evan continued, “You look decidedly mussed like he’d just finished kissing the shit out of you.”
I always forgot how observant Evan was and how well he knew me. “That…might have happened.”
“I knew it!”
I tilted my head away from my phone. “At least you’ll be heard over the music at Stonewall.”
“Hush you,” he retorted. “You like him. You look happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.”
“Ev,” I protested, “I hardly know him.”
“Yeah, yeah. I said the same thing about Raphael, and look where we are now.”
I sighed softly. “I should be so lucky.”
“You’re damn right you should,” Evan responded. “You deserve all the happiness life can give you.”
I felt tears prick the backs of my eyes. In that moment, I felt the loneliness that nearly drowned me a year ago come surging back. “I want all that, Ev. I really do. I just don’t trust that I’ll ever get it.”
His voice softened. “Oh, babe, you will, I promise. Maybe you’ll even get it with Sean.”
I shook my head even though he couldn’t see me. “I live in Manhattan, and he lives here.”
“Oh yeah,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “I forgot. It’s nearly impossible to get from New Jersey to Manhattan.”
“All right, all right, I get it,” I huffed.
“Jeremy.” His tone was serious again. “Promise me you’ll give it a try. Let this thing between you happen if it’s going to. Don’t close yourself off from something that could be really good.”
I wanted it. I really, really did. And I liked Sean a lot. He seemed like a genuinely good person with no hidden agenda. I just didn’t think he would want to deal with all my drama. But I couldn’t say any of that to Evan because he’d heard it all before, and it would just upset him when he was trying so hard to be supportive. “I promise I’ll try,” I said.
“Excellent!” he exclaimed, and I think everyone in The Village heard him. “I am so proud of you,” he said more quietly. “You’ve come such a long way.”
I felt my throat constrict. “Thanks.” I pulled out the piano bench. “I’m going to go now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“I want details,” he sang.
“Goodnight, Evan.” I hung up the phone and wondered, yet again, how I had managed to get such an awesome best friend. I spread out the sheet music as best I could and started to play, looking for any mistakes in my transcription before I sent the final copy to the printer.
Three run-throughs later, I’d found all my mistakes and was satisfied with the final product. I stacked the corrected sheets and put them to the side. The mostly full moon shone through the windows, and I was reminded of Sean’s and my walk on the boardwalk. With a smile, I began to play Debussy’sClaire de Lune.
NINETEEN
SEAN
So it turned out I knew jack-all about computers—at least compared to Michael D’Angelo. He didn’t need to be anywhere near the router to change the password. He just needed to be on a computer connected to the network. I did, at least, have all my passwords written down and locked inside my desk. Except Michael took one look at my password list and sighed. Then he got me something called a password locker and showed me how to make strong passwords.
He left me to the task of changing my passwords while he checked something called the “dark web” to see if my guests’ information had been put up for sale. That would have really sucked because people wouldn’t trust their information with me if that happened. He seemed to think it was unlikely because we didn’t store credit card information on our computers here. I kept my metaphorical fingers crossed since my actual fingers were busy typing.
A knock on the door interrupted my password odyssey. “Come in,” I called.
The bartender, Joey, poked his head in. “Hey, Mr. O’Neil, I have a question.”
