“I’ve never been on a date with two people before,” he confessed. “But I guess this is something you’ve done?”
“We’ve only casually seen other people,” I replied. “Mainly when we were first dating.”
“How did you two meet each other?”
I turned to Marco. He had added a light blue eyeliner for the evening, which gave a sophisticated flare over his casual button-up. “That story,” he said with a chuckle, “is much more flattering to Demir than it is to me.”
I scoffed. “I’m not so sure about that. I thought you were so damn beautiful and sexy the first time I laid eyes on you.” I turned to Grayson. “He was twirling through the air with flowers in his hair, no joke.”
Marco laughed. “He doesn’t mention that I was falling. I had been dancing up on an elevated platform at a club, and it was my first night out in heels…”
Grayson laughed along. “Oh no!”
“Demir caught me,” Marco said quickly. “I was fine.”
“It’s more like he fell onto me than like I caught him,” I laughed.
“After that,” Marco added, “what else was I supposed to do? I would have broken my arm without him. I gave the handsome man my number, and we’ve been part of each other’s lives ever since.”
Grayson had a faraway look in his brown eyes. I couldn’t place it exactly. It seemed almost like longing, but somehow much happier than that. He shook his head softly, then caught my eye. “But that wasn’t The Forty-Eight, where you met? You opened the club later?”
“About three years later,” I confirmed. “But Grayson, what about you? You and Marco got to talk a little more the night we met, but as I’m sitting here, I realize I’ve barely gotten the chance to know you.”
Grayson took in a deep breath. “Where to start?” he said with a crooked smile. “I don’t run a nightclub, but I am a small business owner. I make custom ceramic tiles. I use a few different techniques and methods and hand-paint each one.” He lifted his wine, then took another sip. “I’ve been growing the business since I moved here, so that takes up a lot of my time and focus.”
Marco leaned forward and slid his water aside. This was exactly the kind of thing he loved to talk about.
“I handled all of the interior design for the club. It was my favorite part of developing the business. We used some tiles that were recovered from an old municipal building for the bathrooms, and they’re lovely, but I would have appreciated working with an artist like you to develop something unique for the space.”
The waiter appeared, then deposited the first round of plates on the table, including a series of appetizers we shared while we chatted. Marco and Grayson lit up as they talked craft and design. I always favored minimal style for myself, like a white button-up shirt and a black leather jacket, but I still appreciated the design in The Forty-Eight and back at our loft.
It always reminded me that Marco had put a little of his magic in that spot.
“How did you get started in ceramics?” I asked.
“My great-grandfather actually worked in ceramics, although I never got to meet him. But my parents kept around some Talavera-style pottery that he loved and that he brought to America when he moved here. When I was a kid, I’d end up just sitting there and staring at the bright colors and rich glaze and thinking about how beautiful they were.
“I was also really curious about how they were made,” he continued, “and always asking my parents questions they couldn’t answer. When I got into high school, I started classes in ceramics myself. I never thought of it as a job, until about five years ago.”
He stopped, and I got the sense there was more to the story. I caught Marco’s eye, and he took a casual sip of his wine. “Did something happen five years ago?” he asked.
Grayson scrunched his brow for a moment, then continued. “That’s when I started to transition,” he answered.
I took a bite of a delicate puff pastry, then thought carefully. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but I also wanted him to know that we were comfortable with his gender and not going to start acting like jerks about it. “Apologies if this is an ignorant question, but why did transitioning genders change your career?”
Grayson chuckled to himself, then wiped his hands on the cloth napkin. “I guess I did say that a bit mysteriously, huh?” He tightened his brow again, and I fought the urge to reach out and take his hand. “It can be hard for transgender people to find secure, steady employment. The time when I was in the middle of transition, I was especially vulnerable. Now, most people don’t even realize I’m trans, but back then, pretty much everyone did a double take when they saw me.”
My jaw tightened, and I thought of all the times people had given Marco a hard time for being himself. I felt angry for both of them. I was traditionally masculine, often mistaken for straight, but loving a man like Marco meant that I better understood how cruel people could be to someone who stepped out of the lines.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Marco said. “It’s one thing that always appealed to me about owning a gay club.”
“You get to avoid the assholes,” Grayson said, nodding.
“Well, a lot of them,” Marco laughed.
“It’s impressive that you found a solution that worked for you,” I said. “Many people aren’t able to emerge from challenges with a successful small business on the other side.”
Grayson nodded as he set his wine glass down. “Everyone’s experience of transition is different,” he said confidently. “For me, though, having the chance to work at home made things a lot easier. I could avoid dealing with other people when I wanted, and as I discovered, I love making tiles, too.”
