Authors: Chris Scully
Tags: #Is closeted Greek-Canadian Peter willing to sacrifice his happiness with Louie for family duty?, #Dreamspinner Press; gay romance; Chris Scully
watched their approach. After finding the superintendent, they were escorted
to a corner unit on the fourth floor. The apartment itself was large and
spacious, completely renovated, and painted recently enough for the smell
to still be lingering. The windows had been opened to help air it out, but as
Louie stopped to check out the view, all he got was a whiff of pot drifting in
from next door. His jaw dropped as he watched two burly cops haul a guy in
handcuffs out of the building down the block and into their cruiser.
“I’ve had a ton of interest in this place, so if you want it, you need to
act fast,” the super said.
Peter coughed. It sounded suspiciously like “bullshit.”
“I’ll, uh, let you know,” Louie replied politely and beat a hasty retreat
with Peter in tow.
“What? Don’t you want to leave a deposit?” Peter asked once they
were back outside. Right on cue, the wail of sirens pierced the quiet. Peter
immediately dissolved into giggles.
Louie gave him a friendly shove. “Shut up. I think I’ll pass, thank you.”
The next building they headed to was in a better neighborhood, but
in need of an update. Speckles of black mold crawled up the corner tiles of
the shower, and there were some questionable flecks on the kitchen counters
and in the cupboards. He and Peter shared a look and wordlessly agreed to
move on.
He had higher hopes for the third place on his list: the main floor of a
suburban house, sandwiched between an upper unit and a lower one in the
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basement. It was a lot more space, but he’d be expected to take care of the
front yard and shovel snow in winter too, and he didn’t think he was ready
for that. It was also farther away from work.
It appeared as though his search was going to be as fruitless as it had
been two weeks ago.
They took a break before heading to the final viewing. He had more
than an hour to kill before the appointed time, so they stopped at a local
bistro for a quick bite.
“I had no idea it would be so hard,” Peter mused as they took a seat.
“Bet the basement doesn’t seem so bad now, right?” Louie teased.
Peter looked embarrassed.
As Louie perused the menu, he couldn’t help notice how Peter kept
squirming in his chair and craning his neck to peer over his shoulder. “What
are you looking at?” he finally asked.
“Checking out the place. I like the way the chairs are mismatched.
And the tables too.”
Now Louie had to look. “I didn’t even notice.”
“It’s casual and homey. Makes it feel like you’re a guest at somebody’s
house. I’d love to do something like that at the restaurant.”
“So do it.”
Peter shook his head. “Pop would never go for it.”
They were interrupted by the waiter, who took their order. Louie opted
for a salad and Peter a burger. Once they were alone again, Louie returned
to the conversation.
“Do you like working with your dad?”
Peter made a face he couldn’t quite interpret. “It’s complicated.”
“Most family stuff is.”
“True.” He took a breath. “When I was a kid, I used to love working
there—it was the only time we spent together. I guess I thought that working
side by side we’d grow closer, that I’d finally get to know the man.”
“And you’d earn his approval,” Louie added without thinking, his
mind turned to the father he hadn’t seen in nearly three years.
Peter blinked in surprise. The look on his face said he’d guessed
rightly.“I do know a thing or two about family complications,” Louie said
with a touch of sarcasm.
“Do you think it’s something you ever outgrow?”
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“I doubt it.” He certainly hadn’t. He’d settled for this uneasy truce
with his family, but deep down inside he missed them terribly. Missed the
way things used to be. “Somewhere along the way, though, I decided if I
couldn’t earn
his
respect, I needed to at least respect myself.” He laughed
self-consciously. “That sounded awfully pretentious, didn’t it?”
“No. I’ve just never heard it put quite like that. You know, I still don’t
think I really know my father. Or that he knows me.” Peter shook his head
and stared down at his tableware. “Maybe it would be different if I had more
authority. Sometimes I feel like I’m still just a busboy. Sometimes I think,
‘Is this it? Is this all there is?’”
Their food arrived, and Peter dug into his burger as if ashamed of his
confession.
“So what else would you like to do at the restaurant?” Louie asked in
between bites of organic greens and kale.
“It doesn’t matter. Pop’s not too big on change. He still thinks as long
as the food is decent and the prices low, he’ll get customers.”
“But you’ve got ideas. Come on. Tell me.”
“Well, it’s not like I want to change the character of the place,” Peter
began hesitantly. “But I’d love to put a few more healthy options on the
menu—something other than Greek salad—and some more home-style
food. And expand the wine list beyond the two we’ve got.
“And the whole place needs a facelift. You’ve seen it—it’s no longer
retro, it’s bordering on dive status. We can’t survive on the takeout business
much longer, and we can’t compete with the other joints on the block
anymore. There’s a half dozen others serving the same stuff. We probably
would have closed long ago, but Pop owns the building.”
Louie smiled to himself as the words tumbled out of Peter in a rush.
He’d clearly given this some thought. Louie didn’t know much about the
restaurant business, but the ideas sounded solid to him. Although right now,
with his eyes lit up and excitement written across his face, Peter could have
convinced him of almost anything.
I could so fall for this guy
, he thought. Now he understood what
had drawn Demetra to Peter—that hint of vulnerability beneath the Greek
machismo. “Why don’t you share all this with your dad?”
“Do you think I haven’t tried? Right after his heart attack when I went
back to work there, I did up a whole business plan and everything.” Peter
shook his head. “He didn’t want to hear it.”
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“You could try again,” Louie suggested.
“It’ll never happen,” Peter finished. Just like that the life went out
of him. The transformation was so quick it left Louie startled. It was like
someone had flipped a switch.
“You don’t know that.”
Peter opened his mouth to argue, but apparently thought better of it.
“What I
do
know is you’d better finish that totally unappealing salad or
we’ll never find you an apartment.”
“This is more like it,” Peter said admiringly as they circled the block for
the third time searching for parking. Louie’s final appointment of the day
was a sublet in a newer glass tower downtown. The owner was a friend of
his new co-worker Tammy.
“It’s also at the top of my budget,” Louie replied, finally nabbing a
spot in the limited visitor parking. “It’s a condo. The owner is relocating for
work and wants to rent it out rather than sell it. She probably has a list of
applicants a mile long.”
“Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
“I could do with some luck about now.”
“Somehow I doubt you have a problem getting lucky,” Peter mumbled
under his breath.
Louie blinked. Was Peter flirting with him? He suddenly grew flustered
and couldn’t think of a snappy comeback. But when he locked the car, he
thought he saw Peter grinning.
They buzzed in and took the elevator to the twentieth floor. The owner
was waiting for them as they stepped off: a tiny, perky blonde with a pixie
haircut. “Hi, Louie. I’m Sandra. It’s nice to meet you.”
Louie introduced Peter as Sandra ushered them into the unit. A small
foyer opened onto one high-ceilinged room. There wasn’t a lot of space, but
the open kitchen and exposed ductwork were loft-like. Directly in front of
them, a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the expressway and
beyond that, Lake Ontario.
“Wow,” Peter gasped, heading straight for the balcony. “Look at
that view.”
Was the man crazy? It was a freeway. Who wanted to look at bumper-
to-bumper cars?
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“Go ahead and have a look,” Sandra urged. Peter slid open the patio
doors and stepped out onto the narrow balcony.
Louie followed, overwhelmed by the hum of traffic soaring up twenty
stories as soon as he set foot outside. “Yeah, great view.”
Peter said something that was immediately drowned out by the horn
of a passing semitruck.
“What?” Louie shouted.
“Not that one.
That
one.” With a heavy hand, Peter turned Louie’s head to
the right, showing him a sliver of downtown through two nearby towers.
“Oh, yeah. Not bad. But the noise….” Louie felt dizzy when he leaned
over the railing and realized how far the drop was.
Toronto was so… frenetic. It was like being caught up in a tidal wave.
Everyone was in their own bubble, eyes down, intent on getting somewhere
fast, and if you didn’t keep up, you were run over. It was so different from
the relaxed, laid-back vibe of the West Coast.
It hit him then.
This was really it. He was here. He was starting over. Alone.
Vancouver, his friends, Aaron—they were three thousand miles away.
A surge of sudden homesickness threatened to choke him. His eyes
stung, and Louie was relieved to find himself alone on the balcony with no
one to witness this brief meltdown.
“It’s a little noisy,” Sandra admitted when he ventured back inside a
few minutes later. “But with the windows closed, you don’t hear any of it.”
“Hey, Louie, this kitchen is amazing.” Peter was ensconced behind
the kitchen peninsula. He ran his hand lovingly over the granite countertops
of the breakfast bar. “Stainless steel appliances. Look, a gas range. I could
do some serious cooking on this.”
His grin of excitement was contagious, and Louie found himself
warming to the place too. Did Peter even know he was acting as if
he
was
the one moving in?
“So,” Sandra explained, “as I told you in my e-mail, it’s a one-bed,
one-bath unit. There’s a pool downstairs, and I’ll show you the gym and the
media room later if you’re interested. No parking, though.”
“I don’t have a car,” Louie said.
“Perfect, then. You won’t need it anyway if you work downtown. I’m
looking for someone willing to sign a ten-month lease immediately.”
“Immediately?”
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“Well, starting next month. Is that a problem?”
“No. Actually… that’s great. I’m just surprised you don’t have
someone lined up.”
“Oh I did. She backed out at the last minute. Which is why I’m now
freaking out. I leave in two weeks. It’s hard to find someone willing to sign
a short-term lease. Most people want at least a year. When Tammy said she
knew someone who was looking for a place, I was so relieved.”
“A wine fridge,” Peter exclaimed, still in the kitchen. “This place is
awesome.”
Did Peter know nothing about apartment hunting? You weren’t
supposed to let them know you were interested. Sandra dimpled. “You guys
are too cute. I have such a good vibe about you.”
Oh, no. Did she think they were together? Before Louie could
correct her, she began talking again. “This is a fun building. Lots of young
professionals. And most people are pretty cool. You guys won’t have
to worry about fitting in.” She turned away. “Come on, the bedroom’s
through here.”
“Why would she worry about us fitting in?” Peter, who had finally
emerged from the kitchen, whispered in his ear as they followed.
“She thinks we’re a couple, Peter.”
The look on his face was priceless: like he couldn’t decide whether to
be shocked, amused, or flattered.
Louie grinned. He gave Peter a shove. “Don’t get all worked up. You
should be so lucky.”
He felt a slight warmth in his face as he followed Sandra down a short
hallway and into the sole bedroom. It was definitely a shoebox. “It’s a little
tight in here,” he pointed out.
“All we need is a bed. And you like to cuddle, so a queen is fine.”
We?
Cuddle? Louie whirled around, but Peter was already moving
into the en suite bathroom. “Oh my God. Check out the size of the shower,”
he exclaimed, voice echoing off the tile. “We’d both fit in here, Louie. And
the tub has jets. This place is great, babe.”
Sandra made an “aw, isn’t that sweet” face, and Louie decided he had
a pretend boyfriend to kill. “Excuse me a minute.”
He marched into the bathroom, ignoring the sleek gray tile and chrome
fixtures. “Babe?” he hissed, poking Peter in the chest. “Really?”
“Do you like ‘honey’ better? Sweetie?”
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Louie narrowed his eyes. The bastard was enjoying this, judging by
his smirk.
“So, what do you think?” Sandra asked, poking her head through