relationship meltdowns. He squeezed, hard. “First, his name is James Maron, he’s with UCB Tech Support, and what the fuck do they mean, I came out? I came out when I was sixteen and my mom found my Playgirls. My cousins kicked my ass, and my mother still says the rosary twice a day for my soul. I haven’t been in in years!”
Nate raised his arms. “Don’t kill the messenger. At least this way you’ll stop getting resumes with photo accompaniments.”
Gabe squeezed Tux a few more times.
“Aside from it being your big coming out, how’d your date go?” Nate asked.
“He’s trying to figure out how long he needs to wait to call him so he doesn’t sound desperate and needy,” Tamyra supplied.
“Dude, just call him” was Frank’s instant advice.
“I don’t want to scare him off.”
Frank and Nate shared a surprised look, then perched on either end of his desk like lopsided bookends. Gabe glared at them, and they hopped off the desk. It was an antique Art Nouveau piece that clashed with every other piece of furniture in the organization. There were standing death threats toward the first person dumb enough to break it, his partners included. Frank and Nate slouched into the guest chairs instead.
“Is this serious?” Frank asked. “I mean, do you want it to be serious?”
Gabe knew a straight-out yes would bring too much baggage, but he could not answer with a no. “Would I be stressing over a phone call if I wasn’t thinking about this seriously?”
Nate shrugged. “I don’t know. There was that phase when you had a habit of falling in and out of love every other week.”
“A phase that finished when I was twenty-four, and you know it.”
“Just pick up the phone and call him” was Frank’s advice.
Gabe looked at Nate. As much as he usually trusted Frank’s opinion, the fact was he was on Wife Number Three. Nate, on the other hand, was married to the same girl who had force-fed him a worm in the first grade.
“Before we let you get back into a cycle of being lovesick, for the sake of the company, tell us about this guy. What’s he like?”
Gabe mentally pulled up short. He’d been expecting Nate to tell him to pick up the phone as well. “He’s…. He’s nice?”
“I’m a nice guy, and you’re not mooning over me.”
“Damn straight I’m not. Um….” Gabe tried to think of how to describe James in a way that didn’t make him sound dishwater dull. “He’s… intelligent, but not in an annoying way, like you two. He’s —I want to say innocent, but that’s really not the right word. I’m not sure there is a right word. He’s got integrity, and he’s really cute when he blushes. He still blushes.”
“Okay.” Nate drew out the word. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you describe anyone as having integrity, ever.”
“He’s a single parent. Guess how old the kid is.”
“Eight, nine?” Frank guessed.
“Seventeen. About to go to Stanford on scholarship. He had a son at fifteen. Fought to keep him. I don’t think he’s done much of anything for himself in, oh, about eighteen years and… I don’t know. This job has probably made me cynical as all fuck, but I don’t think he’s working an angle on anyone. I mean, he actually seems like a good person and….”
“Call him.” Frank, Nate, and Tamyra said in unison.
“So I should call him, then?”
Tamyra reached over, lifted the phone out of its charger, and placed it in his hand. “You’re already sweet on this guy. Just call him.”
J AMES LOOKED at the stack of envelopes sitting on the table, the spiral-bound notebook, and his checkbook. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the task at hand. It wasn’t easy. He’d just been asked on a second date for the first time in his life and had said yes. Dylan would be so proud. He took another breath and opened the first bill. He was sure most people didn’t use spiral-bound notebooks to keep track of their budgets anymore, but his