I find Aisha at a corner table, her tablet propped like a barricade back at the Tower of London. She’s wearing the same expression I’ve seen on principals, professors and my parents since I could remember. It’s a mixture of disappointment and frustration. There is pity there too sometimes, and that part kills me the most. It’s the face that makes me want to do whatever I can to get back in their good graces.
“Good evening, Aisha.” I extend my hand and paste on my best Gibson smile. “That necklace is stunning. Perfect for someone in travel.”
She barely glances at the ornate compass encrusted with amethyst and topaz jewels that hangs around her neck. “Where’s Hayes?”
My smile drops. “He won’t be joining us.”
“Well.” She taps one finger against the table. “That’s a problem. Did you see the poster? It says ‘couple.’ As in two people.” She holds up two fingers like I might need the visual aid.
“I understand…”
“I don’t think you do.” She swipes through her tablet, each gesture sharp with frustration. “Look at these.” Angry swipe. “And these.” Sad swipe. “And these.” The swipe of surrender. “The content you’ve sent is ninety percent solo shots. How exactly does that scream ‘couple goals’?”
She mutters something that sounds like “I knew this wouldn’t work,” and I rub my chest to loosen the stress.
“I know. I get that. I do. But I tried to compensate by including some of my own original content,” I offer weakly. “We went to drag queen story hour at Once Upon a Pride.” My voice rises up at the end of the sentence, making it sound like a question.
“Stop.” Aisha raises her palm toward me. “Brady, please. Our demographic is high-end queer couples, yes, but we’re part of a massive hospitality corporation. For Us is owned by SuiteTime, which is owned by The Maximedia Group. We can’t touch anything…” Her voice trickles out and then returns. “Too controversial.”
“Controversial? It’s drag queens reading to kids—”
“Exactly.” Her expression sours. “I shouldn’t have to explain why that’s a problem.”
And there it is. Another dart that makes my dream of teaching kindergarten burst. The way certain people look at me like I’m dangerous just for existing near children. The weight of it makes me sick to my stomach.
“Brady, I’m sorry.” Maybe she sees how her words landed. “But this isn’t working. Hayes wasn’t at our last meeting, he’s not here now…”
“Sorry I’m late.” A deep voice erupts behind me.
I nearly jump out of my skin as lips brush my cheek. His lips. Hayes slides into the chair next to me, still flushed from his workout. “Had to finish my run,” he continues smoothly. “Took a wrong turn near Hyde Park. Got a little lost. My fault entirely.”
Aisha’s eyes narrow. I’m frozen.
“I overheard some of your discussion.” Hayes leans back, perfectly at ease while I’m having an out-of-body experience. “The content problem is on me. I was supposed to pack the tripod but forgot. I’m great with memorizing anatomy, terrible with practical things. Early onset doctor’s brain, I guess.” He chuckles softly. “But I’ve ordered one. It’ll be here before Barcelona.” Hayes is not terrible with practical things. The opposite in fact, but he’s here finding a way to take the pressure of me.
“Barcelona.” Aisha’s skepticism is on display.
“The flight is early tomorrow morning, right?” Hayes reaches across the table and finds my hand. He squeezes it. I giggle nervously. Then he pulls my hand up to his mouth for a soft peck. What the actual fuck is going on? “We’re both excited. The drag queen story hour was incredible. Though I understand if that’s not quite the brand message you’re after.”
“The tripod won’t be necessary,” Aisha says with a frown. She’s firing us. A valiant attempt by Hayes to save the day but even he can’t unfuck what I’ve done. “I was about to explain to Brady but now I can finally tell you both. I’ve solved the problem on my end,” she says stiffly. “Isabella from brand marketing will join you in Barcelona and Katrina in Berlin. To help with content.” Aisha puts her tablet in her bag. “I’ll be in Capri, so you’ll have… help at each stop.” I’m sure by help she means supervision.
“You’re not firing us?” The words escape before I can stop them.
“Too much has been invested in this to stop now.” She stands. “I want you to follow the itinerary marketing created, and I expect to see actual couple content in the shared drive.” She goes to leave and then turns back. “You two are still a couple, aren’t you?” Her eyes narrow and she looks at me and then turns her fierce gaze to Hayes.
“Absolutely,” Hayes says, and kisses me on the cheek to help convince her, as if my eyes could ever hide how I feel about him. Especially right now when he has swooped in and saved my ass despite being pissed at me.
“You’re clearly in love,” her voice surprisingly softer, the intensity faded. “Won’t you please show it more on camera? Thank you.” She turns and walks out.
The second she’s gone, I turn to Hayes. “What are you doing? I thought you would be at Heathrow by now.”
He downs half his water in one gulp. “I never said I was leaving.”
“But…”
“I stood there listening to her go off on you about the content and drag queens being ‘controversial.’” He shakes his head. “Like loving kids and wanting to read them stories is somehow dangerous. This is a queer hotel.”
“Yeah, but it’s their hotel and…” How is this the same guy who was nervous about holding my hand in the dining hall when we first started dating?
