CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
FINN
Three days later…
When it’s time for my scheduled break, I toss the ice cream scoop in the sink and remove my apron. “Guess I’ll take a walk,” I say, trying to appear casual. “It’s such a beautiful day out. See you in an hour!”
Kenneth barely looks up from his phone. “Sounds good.”
I step outside and grin to myself as I head straight toward my apartment. The last few days have been hectic, the gayborhood turned upside down after the Great Lube-alanche. But I’ve got a secret lover waiting for an afternoon quickie, and a whole new world opening up in front of me with Riley.
I’m trying not to get ahead of myself, and we’re taking care to savor this time, stay intentional as we start off the next chapter of our relationship. This is the start of something new, and I want to revel in all the excitement and possibility that comes with that. Having known Riley for years, though, my heart is rushing forward.
He’s a fantasy become reality, a dream in my waking life, and I can’t wait to see him again.
As I walk by the old Glube store, I see crews busy on the street. Clay and Sue are working with a small team to install a new street light, and the cast ofYentlis busy repainting the rainbow crosswalk. I spot a few of the mechanics down by the craft center, gathering up refuse and cleaning the scene with other volunteers.
I pause for a minute, watching. The disaster has been expensive, and the gayborhood’s budget crisis has intensified and become the major topic of gossip and conversation. Even under the stress, the neighbors have continued to work together, showing up for each other and taking care of what we can.
Pride fills me, welling up behind my ribs.
“Afternoon, Finn.”
I turn to see Mohammed, clipboard in hand. The business association has been hands-on in addressing everyone’s needs, so I’m not surprised to see him here.
“Afternoon,” I answer. “How are you holding up, Mohammed?”
He clips a pen back on the clipboard. “Well enough, considering all the bad news I have to deliver about funding opportunities for the recovery.”
“The city isn’t helping out?” I ask.
“They are, but not as much as we’d hoped, and the cash is slow to arrive. I did receive some good news this morning, though. The historic hotel has agreed to donate their space for the art show.”
My eyes light up. “That’s my favorite building in town. It’s gorgeous.”
“That’s what Kavya said,” Mohammed agrees. “She, Zooey, and the rest of the team will be able to pull off the show as planned without a hitch.”
“That’s a relief.”
“It’s a wonderful show,” he says. “Now we just need to get the rest of the neighborhood in shape.”
“If anyone can pull this off, we can. The gayborhood has achieved peak harmony once more.”
Mohammed smiles. “That reminds me—I was hoping to talk to you.”
“Something I can help with?”
“Perhaps. I wanted to run something by you, see if you might be interested in an opportunity from the business association.”
“Oh.” Surprised, I tilt my head to the side. “What kind of opportunity?”
“Featured business of the year,” he answers, and my eyes light up.
“You want The Scoop to be the featured business?”
Mohammed nods. “It’s meant to be an honor and highlight your shop, of course. There would be an article in the newspaper, some interviews with tourist magazines. Things like that. But it’s also a major responsibility and time commitment. You’d be expected to attend events, make some speeches, and, in essence, represent the business association and Allentown more broadly.”
“Wow,” I say, my excitement rising as I process. “That’s so cool, Mohammed.”
