Better Than Chance(11)

We giggled like a couple of loons and planned our evening wear for Friday night. I hadn’t laughed that hard in far too long. It was good to be among the living again.





THE WEEK drifted by quickly and noticeably easier. I found myself looking forward to Friday night now that Aaron was coming with me. I couldn’t wait to see Peter Morgan’s face when he caught sight of Aaron in full-gay mode. I personally loved it, but I knew men like Peter generally had an issue with men who wore makeup, as though it were a challenge to their own masculinity. I wished I could be as free with the eye-shadow wand as my friend. This was a work function, so while Aaron could push the envelope with his attire and accoutrement, I trusted him to do so tastefully. I, on the other hand, would be expected to dress accordingly. I didn’t care so long as I was the first to see Morgan’s expression when I introduced my date.

However, fate had other plans.

Jay. You’re going to kill me. Call me, honey.

I stared at my cell phone, willing myself not to throw it. Aaron was famous for overbooking his social calendar. Ugh!

“What is it? Are you really bailin’ on me?” I turned on my southern drawl and let my voice convey that I hoped he was feeling mighty guilty for hanging me out to dry.

“I’m so sorry. I’m in a bind. I totally forgot I promised Maria I’d watch Tommy for her tonight. She and Brian have tickets to the ballet, and they’re going to dinner in the city. She just called to tell me what time she was dropping him off. I’m sorry, Jaybird! If it was anyone other than family, I’d make an excuse. But I can’t do that to Maria. She’s been totally looking forward to a night out.”

“Ugh! What about Tess or your mom?” I was whining and not proud of it, but I was disappointed. So much for my big plans.

“My parents are in Puerto Rico, and Tess is busy. I’m really sorry, sweetie. Forgive?”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about it.”

I set the phone down carefully and took a deep breath. Oh well. There was always alcohol.





UNFORTUNATELY, I was a notoriously bad drunk. I knew this about myself. I knew I needed to eat before drinking a drop, and that I needed to drink copious amounts of water in between drinks. It was usually best if I stayed away from hard alcohol, but that was no fun, so I tried to be careful instead and aim for moderation. That night I couldn’t be bothered. I was bummed to be going alone. I’d be the only guy there without a date. I called my good friend Katie to see if she’d stand in for Aaron, but she claimed her fairy godmother was looking out for her that night and she had a previous engagement with a straight man. A night of possibility with a hot hetero man won out, although she claimed she would have dumped him if it weren’t so last minute. A true fag hag… that’s our Katie.

I stepped into the swanky hotel where the party was in full swing on Friday evening and had two drinks on an empty stomach within the first half hour. Not attending wasn’t an option so I went for liquid comfort instead. I chatted with my coworkers and made sure to make the rounds, being the friendly guy they all knew me to be. I was busy flirting with one of the bartenders when I spotted Peter Morgan across the room. I swallowed hard, as I took in the perfection of that glorious body in a beautifully fitted suit. I was guessing Armani this time. Damn, he was good-looking! Too bad he was such a jerk. I wondered if his date was a gorgeous model. I was absurdly curious about who he’d bring to a work affair. Even though I didn’t want to see this guy’s mug after tonight if it could be helped, beautiful things always were a weakness of mine. I suddenly had to see him up close and see if I could report what designer gown his girlfriend was wearing.

Mel caught me staring and bumped my arm hard. I gave her a dirty look when some of my cosmo spilled over the rim of my martini glass.

“Don’t look at him. He’ll come over and make small talk or something equally mortifying,” she mused.

“No, he’ll bring a report outlined in red ink and issue strict instructions for me to rewrite line three of paragraph two by first thing in the mornin’.”

Mel looked at me with big eyes and busted up laughing. I joined in, realizing that my laughter was the product of too many cosmos and too little food. My voice sounded loud to my own ears. I needed to watch it or I wouldn’t have a job to worry about at all. I gathered whatever self-control I could muster and turned back toward my nemesis to get another good look, only to find him standing two short feet in front of my perch at the bar. Oh fuck.

“Mr. Reynolds. Ms. Martin. Good to see you both.” Peter’s eyes drifted slowly over both of us. I was pretty damn sure he’d overheard me now, and I could feel a furious blush creep up the collar of my shirt.