Chapter Fifteen
Demir
“Hey babe,” I called out from the bedroom. “Have you heard from Grayson? I texted him yesterday and didn’t hear back.”
Marco stepped into the doorway. From my spot on the bed, he was perfectly lit by the hallway lamp. He had on a tight red pair of boxer briefs and a fluffy white towel, wrapped around his head. “I haven’t, actually. I texted him yesterday, too. That’s strange. He normally replies right away.”
I frowned, worry clouding my thoughts. Even when my day was packed, I still tried to remember to send Grayson a quick text, and he always wrote back quickly, even if it was just to send a smiley or a quick note.
Maybe I was being unfair, expecting him to always be available. Or maybe I had just relied on those little messages to brighten my days. But not hearing back made me suspicious something was wrong.
“We had a lovely time at the park,” Marco said. He dropped on the bed, scooted behind me, and began to massage my back. I leaned back as his fingers found my tense spots. “I’m sure he just had a busy start to his week yesterday.”
“You’re probably right,” I said, relaxing back into his touch. “Let’s make sure we reach out again later today, though. I hate the idea that he could be in some kind of trouble, and we wouldn’t know about it.”
Marco’s thumb pushed into a knot I’d been carrying for years, and my muscles tensed before relaxing again. “Getting to know his friends more will help,” Marco mused.
I grunted my agreement, the massage taking me away. The long afternoon at the park had been refreshing for both of us, such a different crowd and a different way to socialize than we had gotten used to. They were new friends for Grayson, too, I knew, but the idea of bringing our worlds together a little more left me satisfied.
When Marco finished with the massage, I picked out the suit I would wear that day and made us each a protein smoothie. We indulged in a little coffee and quiet time on the couch, with a new DJ Marco was considering for the weekdays humming over the stereo system. I could barely pull myself away from him, but I had a meeting with the architecture firm that afternoon to officially delay construction and an appointment with our liquor vendor after.
I walked over to the club first. I had started keeping all of my files in the office in an attempt to keep my work and home life divided a little more, and to try to keep the promise I had made Marco. I still wasn’t sure how I was going to swing a personal assistant on our new budget, but now that Grayson was winning our hearts, there didn’t seem to be any option but to find a way forward.
Coming to a stop on the sidewalk, I stared at the empty building that would soon be occupied by our primary competitor. A man jogged by, pushing a stroller, and some pigeons flew around a scone that had been tossed on the street. Cars honked, people came and left the café, and across the street, I heard a baby crying.
But still, all I could do was stare.
Is this really what I want? Is this really what I’ve been working for?
I’d considered it my life’s purpose to provide for Marco and to afford him a lifestyle as fabulous as he was. And god knows, he worked just as hard as I did. Without Marco’s touch, the club would be dull and lifeless, just reiterating the same parties and the same styles as every other second-tier bar in the city.
When Marco touched something? It shined.
But as I stared at the empty building and read the words on the sign over and over again, I just felt disappointment. I didn’t feel that drive to succeed, the passion of building a life.
I felt tired, worn already by all the work and stress that waited for me.
It’s not up to you to provide for Marco,I scolded myself.It’s up to you and the people you love to provide for each other.
I shook my head, then turned back to The Forty-Eight. Uneasiness sat in my gut like a rock, and I hadn’t even had my second cup of coffee for the day yet.
Then I heard my name, distant but urgent.
“Demir!” Marco yelled. “Demir!”
He was hurrying down the street, wearing the flip-flops that he almost never took out of the house. He hadn’t styled his hair yet, and as he got closer, I saw that a phone was dangling from his hand.
Grayson, I thought.Something is wrong.
My heart stilled, and when Marco reached me, he pulled me into a hug.
“Is he okay?” I asked quickly.
Marco rested his hand on my shoulder, then squeezed. “His mother died,” Marco said softly. “He found out after we left the park.”
“Fuck,” I cursed. “Did he message you back?”
“I tried calling again.”
