Better Than Chance(10)

“Yep.” I handed him a glass of pinot and kissed his cheek.

“I love you too, but we’d be terrible together. And besides, what you really want is to be the guy dancing in his kitchen to his favorite tunes while he whips up a little something for his man. Am I right? You, my friend, don’t love the grind you’re currently in. The long hours, no social life, no sex—well, I guess we can’t say that anymore!”

“Ha-ha. Whatever. I admit last night was probably what I needed. But I don’t know, I feel a little cheap right now. I almost wish I hadn’t called him.”

Aaron’s eyes fixed me with a hard stare. He set the knife aside and picked up his wineglass, holding my gaze while he took a sip.

“What’s the matter, Jaybird? Why do you sound so unhappy?”

I hadn’t realized I sounded so forlorn, but he was right. I felt out of sorts. I didn’t know how to answer, so I shrugged my shoulders and took a seat at the island to watch my friend work. He paused before picking up the knife, but he returned to his chore of chopping vegetables, his longish dark hair covering his right eye as he bent his head in concentration.

“I’m fine. I’m just tired.” I told Aaron about the dreaded office cocktail party I would have to endure before I could finally put this project behind me. Aaron listened patiently. It was another thing I loved about him. I may have been four years older than him, but he was blessed with a wisdom beyond his years and was a terrific listener.

“Why do you have such a problem with him? I mean, I get that he was a little prickish, asking you to make silly changes to your reports, but have you considered that maybe he’s trying to talk to you on another level?”

I gave Aaron an openmouthed, questioning stare. And for good measure asked him what the fuck he was talking about.

“I’m just saying that maybe he has a little crush on you.” Aaron batted his eyes like a femme fatale, making us both giggle.

“You, my friend, are hysterical. No. I can assure you there is no crush involved. In fact, Mr. Morgan is straight….”

“That’s what they all say…,” Aaron mumbled out loud.

“Maybe, but he’s pretty damn masculine.”

“You know that means absolutely nothing, right? But do tell me more!”

“There is nothing to tell. He doesn’t like me and frankly, I don’t know what I’ve done. I spent the first month or so thinking it was me, but lately I’m thinking it’s something else… something personal.”

“Unless you’re keeping something from me, how would he know you personally?”

“He doesn’t. Aar, I think he’s one of those….” I let the statement hang in the air, knowing Aaron would know exactly what I meant. His sharp hazel eyes met mine in understanding and sympathy.

“That sucks. I hate those… assholes. Why must they always insist on muting the rainbow? I mean, isn’t it bad enough that you have to go to work dressed like that?”

“What’s wrong with the way I’m…? Oh hush. Look, I have no proof that he’s homophobic, but he’s definitely singled me out for the stupidest of causes over a two-and-a-half month period of hell. The guy has been a perfectionist tyrant to work for and the very idea of spending even one more night glad-handing and pretending this has been such a rewarding experience does not appeal!”

I closed my eyes for a brief moment. I was tired, and the buzz from yesterday’s successful project finish followed by my late evening rendezvous with Justin was wearing off fast. Aaron was right about one thing in particular. I didn’t love my job anymore. I yearned for a slower pace than my workload allowed. I loved being part of a process that created positive changes, especially when my client had an environmental interest. But I was a people person, and frankly, I hated the never-ending research and analysis I’d had to do for Peter Morgan. I wanted to have a more active role in front of the client. Maybe the problem was that Morgan had sensed my dissatisfaction somehow. I doubted it. In fact, I’d bet anything he was just a homophobic prick.

“Come with me Friday night,” I blurted out, my glass suspended in midair. What a perfect way to give Morgan the proverbial finger! Aaron loved a party as much as I did, and he had no reason not to glam it up either. He could wear all the eyeliner and lip gloss he wanted, squeeze into his tightest black leather pants and a beautifully tailored sexy shirt and really wow the lobbyists at my firm.

Aaron’s eyes lit up with amusement. He put a hand over his mouth and made a comical face.

“I’m in!”