“Whoops,” Paolo said lightly. “Didn’t mean to bring money and business up on our night out! Sorry, guys.”
Demir caught my eye and mouthed an apology, and I tried to push down my frustration. It was looking like he was less concerned about getting quality time together than I was. In fact, he was willing to drop a significant chunk of our savings on a project that would all but guarantee nights like this one stopped happening.
Out of nowhere, I rode a wave of frustration on Grayson’s behalf, too.Why even have the conversation about dating him,I thought,if you know you’re going to be too busy?
Both my phone and Demir’s phone beeped at the same time, cutting through the awkward moment. When we glanced down, Alex and Raul started a new conversation over the table, directing us away from the sensitive topic.
“The club,” Demir said, sighing. “Should have figured.”
The bar manager had a minor emergency involving an absent employee and a mishap with the lighting in the main room. I almost volunteered to head in myself and take care of it, but Demir rose to his feet first.
“Sorry to leave,” he said. “But duty calls. We’ll do this again soon?”
“You sure?” I said, as everyone rose to give him a hug goodbye. “I’m happy to head in, too.”
He shook his head. “Let me. I’ll feel better if I know you’re still able to enjoy the evening with our friends.”
My heart dipped, wanting a night with friends for Demir, too, even though I still felt a pang of frustration that he had kept me in the dark about the business. “Thanks,” I said, planning a kiss on his cheek. “I hope it’s a quick one.”
Although truthfully, even as Demir hurried out of O’Sullivan’s, I knew it wasn’t going to be a quick one, just because it never was. There was always something else to go wrong and another catastrophe waiting around the corner. I did my best to enjoy the rest of the evening, but when I called the car home, I knew in the pit of my stomach that I’d be falling asleep alone that night.
And most likely for many nights after, too.
DEMIR
The next afternoon at the bar, I was still kicking myself for not telling Marco about the architectural plans. I guess I knew I was getting ahead of myself by having the meeting in the first place and that Marco would just tell me to slow down.
He always had the right advice, which was both wonderful and, as his boyfriend, occasionally frustrating.
I pulled out the papers from my bag and set them on the bar. The place was empty, and I just had flipped on the front lights, leaving a pleasant shade across the rear of the club. Reaching behind the bar, I found an old vase and set out the bouquet of flowers I had picked up earlier.
One side effect of having a boyfriend who was always right—I was pretty good at apologizing.
It wasn’t like I was dying to have a bigger club. I was on the same page as Marco was about the dance problem and wishing I had more time off. I had just gotten so used to focusing on the money over the years and building the value of The Forty-Eight.
It was how I knew I would be okay, and that Marco would be okay, too.
He didn’t have any family support when I met him and no cushion of money for emergencies. He was alone, scraping by, and back then, I was alone, too.
Just not totally forgotten. I had always assumed my parents would come around in a few years and take me back into their lives. I had always assumed there would be more time with them and that they’d accept me as a gay man.
I guess they had assumed the same. I might have been disinvited from the holidays, but as it turned out, my name was still on the will. When I got the call about their accident, in the middle of the grief and rage, I had felt a flicker of relief that at least I would be able to provide for Marco now.
The club should have been profitable enough to provide for us for the rest of our lives, even without the addition. But a part of me would always want more for him.
Marco came through the front door. A stylish trench coat hung off his shoulders, and his eyes got wide when he spotted the flowers. “Oh! Is it a special day? Did I forget to add something to my calendar?”
I laughed, then gave him a quick hug and a kiss. “Just an apology,” I said. “For last night.”
Marco nodded. “You apologized this morning,” he said, although I could tell he was still a bit irritated.
“I wanted to explain a little more,” I said. “And get you caught up to speed?”
Marco tilted his head to the side. “Up to speed?”
“We haven’t talked about the plans in a while,” I answered, walking around the bar. “And I figured, since I went and did a boneheaded thing like talk to an architect before I talked to you…”
“Right,” Marco answered. “So what are you thinking?”
