Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I made a decision as I got up and put my glass in a bussing tray, then wandered back out into the street. Over the next few months, I was going to try to gently encourage Micah to get in touch with Arlen. I just couldn’t believe their relationship was irreparable, not after all they’d meant to each other growing up.
Bottom line, Micah needed his brother. He had so few people in his life. When he left San Francisco in January, he wouldn’t have me, either.
That thought was more than a little depressing.
Since Micah wanted time to himself and Ash and Wesley needed some privacy, I had to come up with someplace to be the rest of the day. Going to the movies, a restaurant, or a museum on my own didn’t sound like much fun, so I ended up sending a text to Seth. Knowing he needed someone as much as I did made it easier to reach out.
He seemed thrilled to hear from me and invited me to his house. I consulted a map posted at a transit stop and hopped a bus headed to the Inner Richmond.
Seth lived in one of San Francisco’s quieter neighborhoods, near Golden Gate Park. All the houses were pretty much the same—two stories with a single-car garage underneath, cream or white stucco in a vaguely Spanish style, and crammed together so tightly that they butted up against other houses on both sides.
My new friend answered the door with a huge smile on his face, then grabbed me in a hug and exclaimed, “I’m so glad you called!” He looked like he’d just finished working out in his tank top and gym shorts, which showed off his big muscles.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Seth ushered me into the house as he said, “No, not a thing. George and I were watching game shows. Come on back and I’ll introduce you.”
George Davis was a lanky Black man in his early seventies. He was sitting in a recliner with his feet up, and he shot us a look over the top of his glasses when Seth introduced me. “This guy dressed like a giant banana on Let’s Make a Deal is about to go for the big deal of the day,” he said. “Either sit down and be quiet or go away so I can see what happens.”
Seth smiled at him and whispered, “Sorry,” then led the way out of the den. When we reached the kitchen at the back of the house, he said, “George is actually a sweetheart, but he tries to hide it behind a grumpy exterior.” He took two cans of soda from the fridge and asked, “Want to go sit out back? Eden’s been fixing up the yard, and it’s real nice out there.”
“Sure.” There was an orange and white cat sitting on the kitchen counter, and I scratched its ears and asked, “Who’s this?”
“That’s Pancake. Careful, she’s only pretending to be normal right now.” I pulled my hand away quickly.
Once we reached the patio and took a seat at a round table topped with a blue umbrella, Seth asked, “What are you up to today?”
“The person I’m currently living with wanted some time to himself, so I’ve just been out enjoying this great summer weather.” That sounded better than saying I was killing time while he was sulking and day drinking.
“Oh, you have a boyfriend?”
“No. He, um, he’s actually a client.”
Seth’s blue eyes went wide. “You live with a client? How did that happen?”
“It’s a long story.”
“It must be intense. Like, what happens if you fall for this guy? But I guess that’s one of the first things you have to learn with this job, how to compartmentalize your emotions.” He thought about it, then added, “I guess I’m pretty good at that, since I somehow manage to live under the same roof as Eden without losing my mind.”
“That can’t be easy.”
Seth’s usually cheerful expression became clouded. “It’s really not. In fact, he’s the reason I need to make money as fast as possible, so I can afford an apartment of my own. I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending I don’t have feelings for him.”
“I’m curious what he looks like. Do you have a photo of this guy?”
“Of course I do. I have like, five hundred of them.”
He pulled his phone from the pocket of his shorts, then brought up a picture and handed it to me. On the screen was an absolutely gorgeous Black man in a police uniform. He was probably in his early thirties, with big biceps and a perfect smile.
“It’s not just that he’s incredibly handsome. He’s also such a good person, and the nicest guy ever.” He sighed and muttered, “Why’d I have to fall for a straight guy?”
“I’m sorry, Seth.”