shiver and then couldn’t stop. Al of a sudden, my teeth were chattering and I felt as if the temperature had dropped a hundred degrees. I started to shake.
“Hey,” Marc said, dropping to his knees, “hey.”
He put his arms around me and held me through my mini anxiety attack. “It’s going to be OK,” he said,
“nothing’s going to hurt you.”
“It feels safe here,” I told him, warming in his embrace.
“I know,” said Marc, “why do you think I never leave?”
My hero, the agoraphobe.
CHAPTER 22
I spent the night with Marc. We didn’t have sex.
He just held me and I feel into a sleep deep enough to pass for a coma. I woke to the sound of him padding around the kitchen. The smel of baked goods got me out of bed. It was 10:00.
I was stil wearing my clothing from the day before.
I peed, washed up, put some of his toothpaste on my finger and ran it over my teeth, then joined him.
This time, there was only one cup from Starbucks waiting for me. Chai tea. I thought it was nice he remembered.
However, the counter was also home to every kind of bagel, croissant, muffin, and Danish known to man.
“Let me guess,” I said, “you didn’t know what I wanted.”
“I figured you’d like a choice,” he admitted.
I picked up a croissant. “Sorry I wigged out on you last night.”
“No problem.” He tousled my hair. “It was nice having you in my bed.”
I pointed to the bruise on my cheek. “I couldn’t bear to look in the mirror. How bad is it?”
Marc looked down and blushed. “You stil look beautiful to me.”
If Freddy was the sexiest man I knew, and Tony was the toughest, Marc was definitely the sweetest.
I kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
Just then, I heard my cel phone ring. I ran into the bedroom to get it. It was Tony.
Shit.
I didn’t want to talk to him.
I desperately wanted to talk to him.
I turned off my phone and put in my pocket.
I went into the kitchen and took a long swig of my tea.
“Who was it?” Marc asked.
“Just someone I used to know.”
“Are you OK?” he asked me.
“I’m better,” I said. “I just got a little freaked out.”
“What are you going to do?”
Good question.
“First, I’m going to finish this croissant, which, by the way, is delicious. Then, I’m going to go home, shower, and get into some clean clothing. I’l figure the rest out later.”
“You can stay here if you want,” Marc said. “I mean, if you don’t want to be alone.”
“I don’t think I’m in any danger,” I told him, remembering how I thought that the pebbles my father was throwing at the window were gunshots. “I don’t think I need to be too paranoid.”
“I don’t know,” Marc said. “You can’t be too careful.”
I was getting advice from a man too afraid to leave his apartment. Had it come to this? I kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
By the time I left Marc’s apartment, it was almost noon. I grabbed a cab home and on the drive turned my phone back on. Three messages from Tony. I was debating whether or not to listen to them when the phone rang.
It was Freddy.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Yo, bubbala,” he said, “how are you holding up?
Did you cast off your spinsterish ways and spend the night with Macbeth?”
“Romeo.”
“Whatever.”
“I spent the night with someone,” I said. I explained what Marc had found out about Michael’s customers.
“That evil fuck,” Freddy said. “I knew he was bad news from the moment I laid eyes on him.”
“You thought he was hot the moment you laid eyes on him,” I reminded him.
“Wel, that too,” Freddy admitted. “What are you going to do?”
“That’s the question everyone’s asking me. What do you think I should do?”
“Cal Tony. This needs to go to the cops now.”
“He’s been cal ing me,” I said.
“See? It’s bershert.”
“What if he doesn’t believe me?”
“What if he does?”
“What if he’s cal ing because he wants to get back with me?” I asked. “What if I can’t say ‘no,’ and then he breaks my heart again? Flow many times am I going to keep making the same mistake? I can’t keep doing the same wrong things and expecting them to turn out right. It’s been seven years now…”
Freddy interrupted. “You didn’t take your medication today, did you?”
I admitted that I hadn’t.
“OK, champ,” he said. “Just take a breath and listen. What if the mistake is not taking that chance with Tony? You’ve waited seven years for him, Kevin.
And, let’s face it; you did lay a kind of heavy trip on him with the whole Working Boy thing. Maybe he just needed some time to work through it.
“He’s cal ing you, Kevin. Isn’t that what you wanted? What if you gave him one more chance?”
That’s the thing about Freddy. A part of him would always be in love with me, just like a part of me was always drawn to him.
But in the end, what he wanted most for me was to be happy. Even if that meant I wound up with another man.
The cab was just pul ing up to my apartment.
“I think I wil return his cal,” I told him. “I love you, you know.”
“Please, you know I detest cheap sentiment,” he answered. “Now go cal your man. And be sure you tel me al about it.”
On my way up to my apartment, I thought about what Freddy had said. He was right; it was a big deal for me to tel Tony I was working as an escort. Of course he was upset. Not that he had a right to be, but I could understand it.
I was looking forward to a nice long shower and then a cal to Tony. With any luck at al, he’d be moved to come right over and the makeup sex would be great.
But when I got to my door I discovered the worst news of the day-it was unlocked.
My mother was back.
Great, I thought, I guess the limo didn’t work.
Thanks a lot, Dad.
