Rick started to reply and then stopped. Shit, he’d said practically the same thing less than a week before. With a conscious exhale to get rid of some of the tension, he walked back to the couch and sat.
His father frowned like he really wanted Rick gone, but he went to the chair and flopped in it, sucking down the last of the bottle.
Rick said, “Last week, I said almost the same thing, but I promised Alice I’d get my hair cut. Do you know how much I didn’t want to do it?”
“I’ve got an idea.” He thumped the bottle on the table.
“I met this dude who cut my hair, and yes, he’s queer as they come, but he’s got a good eye. He helped me pick out some clothes for the wedding. Hell, he even redecorated my apartment so I could have Alice and Hank over for a drink.” He leaned forward on his knees. “It was great, Dad. I served them wine and cheese.”
“You’re fucking kidding me. You?”
“Yeah.”
“Your mom used to do shit like that.”
“And then I took them to dinner. Hank’s great, so maybe his parents are too.” His dad frowned, and Rick waved a hand. “And maybe they’re not, but fuck, Dad, so what? It’s only a couple of days.”
His father’s eyes narrowed, and he chewed a lip, but he didn’t say no.
“I could ask Jimothy, the guy who helped me—”
“Jimothy? You’re fucking kidding me.”
“I said the same thing, but he was adopted and had two fathers, Jim and Timothy. He wanted to show his gratitude, so he changed his name. I think it’s pretty fucking great myself.” His father kind of shrugged, and Rick kept going. “Anyway, I could ask if he’d take you shopping for clothes and maybe give the hair a clip. It’d have to be fast, and I don’t know if he’s available, but—”
He waved a hand. “So, ask and let me know.”
“Really?” Shit, don’t question small gifts. “Yeah, great. I will.” Rick stood and walked to the door. “I’ll talk to you.” He opened the door, walked out into the sunshine, and took a deep breath. If he called and his father didn’t answer, nothing lost. If by some weird chance his father agreed to the haircutting and the clothes but then didn’t go to the wedding, again, no loss.
Just don’t get your hopes up, Ronconi.
He climbed in the truck and pulled out his phone.
Humming, Jimothy half-danced and half-walked into the color room to check his stock.
“You’re in a good mood.” Felicia came out of the supply closet with an inventory sheet in her hand. She was smiling, but Jimothy recognized the appraising look in her eyes.
“Yep. Sun’s shining.” He swung her into a waltz. “And I get to work with my favorite people. What’s not to like?”
She laughed, but when he stopped the dance, she crossed her arms and said, “That blind date must really have been something.”
He couldn’t help it. He scowled. “Something all right. The world’s biggest asshole. He regaled me with reasons to buy into his hedge fund for half an hour. I was ready to get up and walk out.”
“Oh no. Timothy will be upset he got you into that. Did you walk out?”
Jimothy turned around and looked at the color boxes again, mostly so Felicia couldn’t see his face. “No. This woman, uh, young woman came rushing up to the table and said she was a big fan and, uh, Rick Ronconi’s sister, and asked us to join them for dinner. So, we did.” He turned back around. “Delicious food. She asked me to style her for her wedding.”
“Well, that’s great.” She grinned, and then it faded. “Wait, isn’t that the wedding Rick Ronconi was going to?”
“Um-hm.”
“Isn’t that this week?”
“Yes, she’s coming in today.”
“Holy crap.” He started past her into the salon. She held out an arm and blocked him. “Suppose you start this story from the beginning.”
He stopped and gave her a look. Since when did he hide things from Felicia? If he was covering up, it meant he had stuff to be ashamed of. Fuck that.
He leaned against the doorjamb on the opposite side. They were bookends. “When I went to dinner with Rick that first time, he asked me to help him get ready for his sister’s wedding, like with clothes and sprucing up his apartment and stuff. Weirdly, I like the guy, so I agreed. Then I cut his hair.” He took a deep breath. “I did it one night, alone, so he was less likely to freak out. It looks amazing, by the way.”
“I couldn’t imagine anything else.”
“There’s a really great-looking guy under all that fur. Total Jake Gyllenhaal.”
“Yeah, I can imagine that.” Her whole expression said, get on with it.
Jimothy stared at his sneakers for a second, then said, “That night, I found out he’s gay.”
“Fuck me.” Felicia stared at him. “I’ve got to admit, I didn’t see that coming.”
“Ha! After you telling me he ran out of here because he was overwhelmed by my sexiness.”
She gave her lopsided grin. “I lied.”
He laughed. “I didn’t believe it either.”
“Should I be asking how you happened to find out?”
“Not unless you want to get X-rated this early in the morning.”
“Double fuck me.”
“No, we haven’t gone that far.”
She barked and then sobered. Princess Leia came rubbing against Jimothy’s ankles, and he picked her up. Scratching her soft fur, he said, “It’s a tough one. He’s in the closet, even to himself, although I think he’s getting a pretty good idea that he’s not bisexual. Still, he’s nearly thirty and has built a life on being a straight white male in a blue-collar job with a homophobic father who also happens to be his boss.” He sighed. “It’s a tale often told, but it doesn’t make it any easier, especially if he’s thinking of coming out to be with a guy like me.”
“Ha! He should be so lucky.”
He reached across and touched her arm. “Thank you, darling. I love you too. But realistically, it’s not like he can take me somewhere and have people say, ‘Would you ever guess those two are gay?’”
When she didn’t say anything, he looked up. She looked like she was desperately trying to keep a straight face.
He burst out laughing, and she joined him. Sometimes things were so sad they were funny.
Chapter Seventeen
Jimothy’s pocket buzzed, and he shivered, then pulled out the phone, smiled, and clicked. “Hi.”
Felicia rolled her eyes, pushed off from the doorjamb, and walked away with a grin over her shoulder.
Rick’s deep voice vibrated the phone. “Hi. How are you?”
“Tingling. How about you? Sore?”
“Only in the best way.”
Jimothy chuckled. “Born to be a bottom.”
“Born to be your bottom.”
Jimothy tried not to sigh too loudly. Rick might have good intentions, but the chances of going through with anything were few. The invitation to repeat the recreation hovered on Jimothy’s lips. The problem was, once could be succumbing to passion, twice was a trend. Did he want to set himself up as a secret lover? Someone it was okay to fuck but never take on a date? Never introduce to your family? He’d always sworn he’d never do it.