Clarity of Lines (9 page)

I wanted them to see he was still the same person.

I answered him, of course, but let him take centre stage. Not that I minded. I could listen to him talk about architecture all day long.

Cooper’s parents might have caught me smiling at him a few times, but I didn’t care. Let them see how much I admired him. I wasn’t about to deny it.

Breakfast arrived and as we ate, Paula directed her questions at me. She asked about my work, how I found New York and she even made small talk about the Yankees.

But Andrew barely said a word.

When it was time to go, I told Cooper I’d give him a few minutes with his parents while I checked us out of the hotel and organised the car. When I couldn’t put it off any longer, I met them in the lobby.

Cooper gave me a tight smile and quickly took my hand. After we’d said goodbye and were in the car on our way to the airport, I asked him what was said in my absence.

“Well, they’re still not exactly happy about us,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry,” I told him.

“Don’t you apologise,” he said quickly. “For anything.”

“Still, I’m sorry it didn’t go how you’d hoped.”

“Well,” he said with a shrug, “they’re prepared to put up with it, so I guess that’s all I could hope for.” He looked at me as I drove, and gave me a sad smile. “Last night, I really thought they weren’t going to accept it all, so I guess
tolerance
is good.”

“Coop, sweetheart, they’re still a part of your life,” I said. “They’re talking of coming to New York to visit you. They might not ‘accept’ us being together, but they’re trying. Give them time.”

“I just wish they could see us, ya know?” he said, slowly shaking his head. “If they could see us, the way we are together, the way we talk and laugh…”

“I think they saw how happy you were, how serious we were,” I told him, “and I think that’s what scared them.”

“Why would it scare them?” he asked. “Shouldn’t they be happy for me?”

“Give them time,” I said again. “I know it’s a Gen Y thing to want everything yesterday, but some things take time.”

He sighed and was quiet for a little while. Then he looked at me curiously. “What generation are you anyway?” he asked.

“Generation X,” I answered.

“You had to Google that, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I admitted with a laugh.

“So if I’m Gen Y and you’re X, then together we are the chromosome code for male,” he mused.

“Yes, I am X marks the spot, and you are the dear God, why, why, why.”

“Fucking hell, Tom,” he deadpanned. “We need to work on your jokes.”

* * * *

Cooper and I got back to New York and slipped easily into our routine. He was busy with work, and it was something I understood well. I actually condoned it. If he wanted to be the best—and he could be with his talent—he needed to put in the hours.

It was what I’d done. It was what had got me where I was today.

So if he had to work late, I didn’t mind. If he brought work over to my place, I did my work alongside him.

It was what we did.

We worked, we talked, we laughed, we made out then we’d work some more. He didn’t stay over every night that week, but almost. “It really would be easier if you moved in here,” I told him.

Cooper was standing near the dining table, packing some papers into his satchel. He dropped his hand. “Really, Tom?” he asked, not too happily. “
Easier
? It’d be
easier
?”

“Well, it’s a pain you always having to come here, or me going to your place,” I said, but my words lost steam with the look on his face. “Easier was the wrong word, wasn’t it?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it really was.”

“I’m sorry,” I started to apologise.

Cooper finished stuffing his belongings into his satchel and walked over to me, kissing me with smiling lips. “You keep getting the whole move-in-with-me speech wrong.”

“Can I try again?”

“Not tonight.”

Damn, he was a demanding little punk. “Let me call you a cab.”

“I can call my own cab,” he said with a smile. “Well, Lionel will call one for me.”

“Lionel hails you a cab?”

“Yep,” he answered with a grin. “I told you he loves me.”

“Did you bring him a jar of peanut butter?” I asked with a smirk. “Did you
flatter
him, the way you
flattered
me?”

“No, I bought him struffoli from the Italian bakery on East fifty-third,” he said simply. “Well, technically I bought them for his wife who’s from Naples, so he was in her good books, and I’m in his.”

“I can’t believe you did that,” I said, shaking my head. “Wait. Wait, you gave him fine Italian pastries and all I got was peanut butter?”

Cooper laughed. “I bought you peanut butter because I wanted a sandwich. The coffee was to win you over.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I know,” he answered simply. “Coffee and sass. I bought you coffee and sass.”

I chuckled as he got to the door. “Cooper?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you bought me coffee.”

He grinned and walked out. I heard him yell from the hall. “And sass.”

I nodded and grinned to myself. “And sass.”

* * * *

I spoke to Cooper every day, on the phone or via text, but didn’t see him for the rest of the week.

I missed him.

So on Friday night when I was supposed to be meeting some business friends of mine, I called and asked Cooper if he’d like to come.

“They’re your friends,” he said. “They’ve known you for twenty years. Is that a good idea?”

“Of course it is,” I told him. “I want them to meet you.”

I heard him switch his phone to his other ear. “But it’s Chaney, Hilderbrandt and Myer.”

“So?”

“Jesus, Tom,” he whispered into the phone. “They’re like the holy trinity of architecture.”

I laughed. “Really, Cooper? They’re just friends of mine.”

“They’re just friends of mine,” he repeated sarcastically. “God, I keep forgetting you’re in the same league as them.”

“Thanks,” I scoffed.

“You know what I mean,” he tried to explain. “I studied their work in college. They’re like legends.”

“Did you study
my
work in college?”

“Enough of the ego, Elkin.”

I laughed into the phone. “You
did
study my work!” I cried, but all he did was mumble some noncommittal response. I took a deep breath and tried not to smile. “Will you please come to dinner with me?” I asked. Then I whispered, “I’ve missed you.”

“Okay,” he said quietly. “I’ll be nervous, and probably say something to embarrass you and they’ll laugh at me and I’ll never work in the industry again, but I’ll go because you asked.”

“You’ll be fine,” I told him. “Just be yourself. They’ll love you.”

* * * *

Well, he was a little late, but that gave me enough time to tell the three men I met there I was expecting my date.

My boyfriend.

They’d known I’d split from Sofia, although I hadn’t really found the courage to tell them the real reason until almost a year after. The three of them were what Cooper would call
old school
, but they were also my friends. They’d said they didn’t care that I was gay, and I’d met with them many times since and things between us were the same as they’d always been. Granted, I’d also never brought a date.

The restaurant was on Madison and Fifth, fine dining and strict dress code. I wondered briefly if I should have elaborated that fact to Cooper earlier, but when he walked in, he was still wearing his suit.

I stood when the maître d’ escorted him over, and gave him a reassuring smile. He was nervous. “Sorry I’m late,” he said quietly. “Louisa has me working on the Philly project.”

Cooper took off his jacket, revealing his charcoal waistcoat and grey shirt and tie, and looked expectantly, nervously, around the table. I made introductions and Cooper smiled politely and said quiet hellos. I’d never seen him so anxious. I didn’t want anyone to be uncomfortable with public displays of affection, Cooper included, but I wanted to reassure him. So under the table, I slid my foot alongside Cooper’s, silently telling him I was there. He gave me a small, appreciative smile.

Hal Meyers spoke first. “Tom says you’re working with Louisa Arlington?”

“Yes,” Cooper said. “She’s great. I’m working on a project at the moment that we’re taking to the Green Exhibition in Philly next week. It’s amazing.”

And so conversation turned to architecture, but with five architects at the table, it was inevitable. I kind of hoped it would, knowing it was a safe topic of conversation for Cooper. And I also wanted them to see how switched on he was.

He was quiet at first, but as conversation opened up, he spoke animatedly, reining himself in every now and then. I think the others asked him questions to test him, but he spoke about new design concepts, and how air flow principals and insulation should co-exist to reduce energy output, and how sustainability was the responsibility of his generation of designers.

I was sure Cooper would start on a tangent, then remind himself just who he was sitting at the table with. Whether it was his nerves or his blatant love for what he did, I wasn’t sure.

After we’d eaten and when he excused himself to go to the bathroom, the three men watched him leave. Lloyd Chaney raised his eyebrows. “He’s certainly on his way in the world, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “He’s very passionate about what he does.”

“He’s very young,” Ro Hilderbrandt said. He wasn’t talking about Cooper’s age for his profession. He was talking about his relationship with me.

“He is,” I conceded. “But I assure you, he has twice the talent than what any of us did when we were his age.”

“Are you hoping he’ll tutor you?” Hal joked.

“I shouldn’t laugh,” I said with a smile. “Because I promise you, new design principles will leave us old fogeys for dead. He probably could teach me a thing or two about where our industry’s going.”

“Old fogeys?” Ro scoffed. “We’re not that old. You might feel it because you’ve scored yourself someone half your age.”

I ignored his jibe about us. “He’s really nervous about being here tonight.”

Lloyd turned his wine glass in his fingertips. “You must be serious about him, if you’ve brought him to meet us.”

I sighed. “Yes.”

“How did you meet?” Hal asked.

“He’s a friend of Ryan’s,” I said, deliberately not telling them about Cooper’s internship. It was a discussion I didn’t want to have knowing Cooper would be back any second. So I changed the subject. “When I told him who we’d be having dinner with tonight, he called you three the holy trinity of architecture.”

Cooper came back to his seat, as the three of them were still chuckling, and looked at me nervously. “I just told them how they’d be known as the holy trinity of architecture from now on.”

Cooper groaned. “Yeah, thanks. I was going to make the Godfather analogy but figured I didn’t want to give you ideas about young architects offending his mentors,” he said, looking at me pointedly. “Besides, I hear horse heads are hard to come by this time of year.”

Ro, Hal and Lloyd all laughed at his joke, and I slipped my hand on Cooper’s leg under the table.

Hal said, “Well, if we’re the holy trinity, what’s the great Thomas Elkin?”

Cooper looked at me and shrugged. “He’s just Tom.”

They all laughed again, but Ro laughed the loudest. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard Thomas Elkin be called ‘just Tom’,” he said.

Lloyd nodded. “I like you, son,” he said to Cooper. “It’s about time Tom here had some ego checks.”

Cooper looked to the table, a little embarrassed, so I gave his leg a squeeze. “Gentlemen, on that note, before I’m the punchline to any more of your jokes, we’ll bid you goodnight,” I said with a smile. I knew they meant no harm. It was just how they were.

“Yes, I must be getting home too,” Hal said. “Sue’s had one of her book club meetings on, so I think it’ll be safe to go home by now.”

We paid our bill and walked out, shook hands and agreed we’d do it again in another month or so, like we always did.

Cooper was quiet on the way back to my apartment. I asked him if he wanted to go home, but he held my hand tighter and said no. When we finally got inside, he was frowning. “Did I say something wrong?”

I walked around to where he was leaning his ass on the dining table. I put my hands on his face and made him look at me. “Cooper Jones, you were perfect tonight,” I told him. “Their jibes at me were nothing to do with you. It’s how we are when we all get together. They’re old country-club style, men’s-club boys. They’re always like that. Actually,” I said, “I think they took us pretty well, all things considered.”

Cooper nodded, but didn’t seem convinced. “I just felt stupid.”

“You’re
not
stupid. You’re far from stupid,” I said seriously. “They said to me when you’d gone to the bathroom how switched on you were.”

He looked at me with imploring eyes. “Really?”

“Ready to take on the world.”

“I called you ‘just Tom’.”

I nodded and pecked his lips. “So? I like being just Tom.”

He gave me a half-smile. “You’re
my
just Tom.”

“Yes, I am,” I whispered, before I kissed him again.

Chapter Eleven

Cooper worked most of the weekend. He spent most of the day with his head in books, looking at the laptop screen or scribbling down notes.

I didn’t mind.

I lounged on the sofa for a while, read the papers, made him coffee, nuzzled his neck, made him lunch, made him laugh, then annoyed him some more.

Eventually, realising I wasn’t going to deter him, I pulled out my own work, cleared some room on the dining table and joined him. We had a lazy dinner, I gave him some stress relief in bed by lavishing his entire body with my mouth, and we fell asleep wrapped around each other.

Sunday was much the same. It was a perfect way to spend the weekend. Well, it was for me, but Cooper was looking a little stressed. He was sitting at the dining table and had just run his hand through his hair for about the twentieth time.