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I read the texts, then Mikey sits back and pockets his phone. I wonder if I’ve made a friend or will Alex always be in the middle.
“How did you meet Alex?”
“I thought you were going to say, Ari?”
“That too.”
“Same place, different endings to the evening with each. Presidential Correspondent Dinner. I wrote some jokes, and Alex wrote some policy stuff for the Prez. Ari was sitting with Alex.”
“They were already friends?”
“Yes. We laughed a lot that night. Ari called within a week. Then I started working in the west wing a month later. Alex and I gravitated to each other. Allies and friends.”
“Is he romantic?”
“Listen to this shiz, Ari said, couldn’t stop thinking about me. Then asked me to fly to New York for dinner. I’ve never been the one on anyone’s mind. I got on a plane immediately. I was a day early for our date, but he obliged. Also, you’ve seen him: those insane crystal-clear green eyes, blond hair the color of summer wheat, and trust me, he has the perfect freaking body.”
“And just like that.”
“Just like that, we’ve been together ever since. He’s quietly the smartest guy in any room. I love him so. Both men became a safe space for me. And despite Alex’s taste for your pussy, he’s my perfect platonic companion.”
I giggle at him.
He leaps over the table and kisses my cheek. “You didn’t get offended by the pussy reference. You’re special. I’m going to piss and head out.”
“That’s it? I’m released? Are we best friends yet? I still feel closer to Carlos Gardenia.”
“Oh, damn girl, that man. That kiss. And you still chose Alex. Mind boggles.” Mikey puts his hands on his hips. “I’ll do what I can to let the course of true lust run smoothly.”
“I appreciate it, Nuisance.”
Mikey pays the bill, and we hug a real tight hug. I can’t remember the last time I made a real friend. Perhaps we’re meant to be as well.
* * *
Joan and Darrell grilled me at dinner about Alex. The torture wasn’t too bad since they eat quickly. Back at their brownstone, I grab a bottle of OO VGW Chardonnay from Willamette. It’s my very favorite. They keep it around for me. I start the four-floor climb to the guest suite that’s designed like a hotel room. When they refurbished it, I know they bought the bed for me, a giant flowy four-poster king. It’s feminine and masculine with decadent sheets. The only deal is I have to make and strip the bed. They hate climbing all the way up here. Their cleaning lady refuses.
There’s an elegant desk made of reclaimed wood and lacquered to avoid splinters. Joan created a bathroom paradise, she claims, ‘If someone’s doing all that goddammed climbing, they deserve a kick-ass white marble soaker tub.’ I’m not sure Joan’s ever seen it. Occasionally Daryll and I convince her to visit the third floor. His art studio and a sitting room have walls of windows and exposed brick. The dumb waiter stops on three, so I haul my bottles of wine and clean sheets up.
I clamber into my big fluffy robe and stare at the TV. I want to get lost in someone else’s world tonight. I sip my wine and try to come up with a show to watch. My robe pops open when I jump at my ringing phone. “Hold on. Need to close my robe.”
“Shooting a porno?”
32
Alex
Her voice soothes my overactive brain. “Not until next week. Or no pajamas at Joan’s.”
I ignore her joke. I’ve another agenda. “What color are they? I’m dying to know.”
“Blue.”
“Shade?”
“Cobalt.”
“Material, please.”
