We ran the noon meeting without Walter. I took notes for him, but there was no call from him to say when he might be back.
Around two Estefani came to my office. “That guy is here,” she whispered. “Hans-Friedrich. He wants to talk to Walter, but Walter’s not here.”
“You know what he wants?”
She shook her head. “Will you come talk to him?”
I didn’t want to. But I followed her to the lobby. “I’m Manny,” I said to him. “We met a few days ago. Walter’s out of the office right now. Is there something I can help you with?”
He paced back and forth. “I have this list of problems—things that aren’t finished in the warehouse yet. Walter has to make them right. He owes me!”
“Why don’t you go over them with me? I’ll see what I can get fixed for you before Walter gets back so you don’t have to wait.”
“He will be a long time?”
“We’re not sure,” Estefani said. “He said he could be gone all day.”
“Fine,” Hans-Friedrich said. I followed him out to the first warehouse. He had already brought in shrink-wrapped pallets of clothes, but they were all stacked on one side of the building.
“There is a piece of molding missing there,” he said, pointing at the wall.
“I can handle that,” I said. I pulled out my radio and called the carpentry super.
Hans-Friedrich began to calm down. I went through his list with him item by item. In some cases I had to make notes to follow up on later, but most of the problems could be solved by bringing in the right workmen.
I was walking back up to the trailer with Hans-Friedrich when we heard a woman’s shrill voice. “What do you mean he’s not here! He’s not hiding from me. He wouldn’t dare!”
Hans-Friedrich grimaced. “That is Dolores. She is a beautiful woman, that one, with a lot of life and energy in her.”
There was an odd look in his eyes. “You know her?” I asked.
“Her father and I have been friends for many years. But by the time I met her she was already dating Walter. If I had been just a bit earlier…”
“Well, she’s going to be available.”
He laughed. “I would have to be much younger and more handsome.”
“You never know.” I walked up the stairs and opened the door to the trailer, but Hans-Friedrich held back. I waved him to follow me and stepped into the lobby.
Dolores was still yelling at Estefani, who was cowering behind her desk. Dolores whipped her head around as I walked in.
She had very dramatic Latina looks. Her skin was flawless, her profile enhanced by cosmetic surgery. Her makeup was too heavy for my taste—the eyelashes had been lengthened too much, her lipstick was a couple of shades too bright for her skin tone, and she’d used too much mascara. Her bright blue silk blouse had a plunging neckline, which showed off her rounded breasts, and her curvaceous figure was accented by a large gold belt cinched around her narrow waist, black silk slacks, and black stilettos.
“You’re the one, aren’t you?” she challenged me. “Walter’s little butt boy.” She sneered as she looked me over, from my sweat-stained Loredo polo shirt to my mud-splattered khakis and my worn Doc Martens.
Then over my shoulder she saw Hans-Friedrich, and her demeanor changed. She pushed past me and embraced her father’s friend, then burst into a litany of her woes in Spanish.
I shared a glance with Estefani. Neither of us knew what to do.
Hans-Friedrich patted her on the back as he listened to Dolores. Then he stepped back from her and used his pocket handkerchief to wipe away a spot of mascara. He smiled and took her delicate hand in his. “You must allow me to take you away from here,” he said. “I can see how upset you are. I know a little café just a few blocks away.”
Dolores returned the smile. “You have always been so kind, Hans-Friedrich,” she purred. “I’ll meet you outside in just a moment. I need to leave a message for Walter.”
He gave her a short bow and stepped back out of the trailer. Dolores turned to me as soon as the door was closed. “Camilo said you were just a boy. How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“You are very handsome,” she said grudgingly. “Too pretty for my taste—but see where my taste has gotten me.”
“Walter is a good man,” I said. “I know he doesn’t want to hurt you.”
“You don’t know anything,” she said. She turned to Estefani. “Tell Walter to call my attorney tomorrow.”
She walked out without a backward glance. Estefani jumped up from her desk, and we crowded together at the window overlooking the parking lot. Dolores stepped up to Hans-Friedrich and threaded her arm in his, and he led her to his sleek black sedan.
Who’s the Boss?
When I heard Walter return from his depositions, I walked out to the lobby to meet him. He looked like he’d been taken out behind the lawyer’s office and beaten with a rubber hose. Estefani was asking him something, and he held up his hand. “I don’t want to talk about anything. I just want to go home and sleep.”
“But, Walter…” Estefani began.
“No buts. Whatever it is will wait until the morning.” He walked into his office and grabbed his messenger bag, then left the trailer.
“I didn’t even get to tell him that Dolores was here and that she wants him to call her attorney.” Estefani pouted. She looked at me. “Aren’t you going with him?”
I shook my head. “He decided it was better if I went back to my apartment for a while.”
I left the trailer a few minutes later and drove to the Beach. Gavin was in the living room when I walked into the apartment. “We were just about to rent out your room,” he said. “How are things with lover boy?”
“Not so good.” I slumped into the chair across from him and poured out the story. “I don’t understand why he’s pushing me away. I’ve already shown him that I can be helpful.”
“Maybe he just needs some time by himself,” Gavin said. “Look, the guy’s going through some major shit. Divorce, coming out, and now his business falling apart. Give him some space.”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
He shook his head. “So, you want a beer?”
“Sure.” We drank a couple of beers and heated up some frozen tacos. When Larry came in late that night, I gave him the abbreviated version of my sad story, and I went to bed. All the exhaustion and drama of the last few days caught up with me, and I slept through my alarm, waking up when the morning light crept into my bedroom around eight.
I sat up, yawned, and looked at the clock. “Fuck me!” I scrambled out of bed, threw on my clothes, and darted down to my car. I was on the causeway to the mainland when my cell phone rang.
I had already given Walter his own ringtone—UB40’s version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love with You.” I grabbed the phone. “I’m so sorry. I overslept, it won’t happen again, please, Walter—”
He interrupted me. “As long as you’re all right. I was worried when you didn’t show up at the meeting. You’ve always been so dependable.”
Was that all? Dependable? “I’m on my way in. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“Drive carefully, Manny,” he said, and he hung up.
Not the romantic declaration I was hoping for. But it was good that he cared enough to call and make sure I was okay.
When I walked into the trailer, Estefani motioned me over to her. In a low voice, she said, “I told him to call Dolores’s lawyer.”
“And?”
She shrugged. “He just said thank you and went into his office. What’s going on?”
“I have no idea.”
I went into my office and got to work. Adrian had taken notes in the morning meeting, and I had a bunch of things to update on my schedule. Around eleven I heard Walter leave the office, telling Estefani to cancel the noon meeting. I went out to the site and told the managers, and caught up on what I’d missed.
Everyone wanted to know what was up with Walter. I had to say I didn’t know. When I got back to the trailer, there was an elaborate basket full of chocolates on Estefani’s desk. “For you,” she said. “It must be an apology from Walter!”
That didn’t sound like something he’d do. I opened the little card and read, “Thank you for the referral. RVMA.”
“It’s not from Walter,” I said, my heart sinking. “Just business. A referral I made.”
Estefani looked disappointed. I carried the basket back to my office, wondering what it meant. Had Roberto been able to put together a deal for Walter? Or was he just thanking me for making the connection?
If anything could go wrong, it did that afternoon. Materials were delayed or became unavailable. Crews were shorthanded or didn’t appear at all. The project was falling apart, and Walter wasn’t returning calls or texts. I did what I could to put out fires, making phone calls, suggesting alternates—but Walter was right. I was nowhere near qualified to take over Camilo’s job. I could barely manage my own.
Walter still hadn’t returned to the office by the time the contractors quit at three thirty. A couple of the supers checked in on their way out, and all I could say was that I understood Walter had another week’s worth of money in hand, and that everyone should come back on Monday morning.
I was exhausted. I had dirt in my hair and sweat pooling in my ass crack. I wanted to go home myself. But I felt like I had to wait around for Walter.
At four-thirty, my phone buzzed with a text from Walter.
Dinner @8 @Van Dyke?
The Van Dyke was a long-time restaurant on Lincoln Road. With sidewalk tables and big open windows, it was very much a see-and-be-seen kind of place. Not somewhere Walter and I should go if he was still trying to keep our relationship, such as it was at that point, on the down low.
But I wasn’t going to argue. I texted back
yes
. I was still in love with Walter, and if he’d asked me to meet him in Antarctica, I’d have asked when I could get a flight. I was thrilled he was still talking to me.
I carried my chocolate basket out to the lobby. “I don’t think Walter’s coming back,” I said to Estefani.
“Yeah, he just texted me to close up.” She looked up at me. “Do you think we’re closing down next week?”
“I don’t know. He asked me to meet him for dinner. Could be to say he got the funding he was looking for—or it could be to say adios.”
I nibbled on one of the chocolate bars as I drove home. It was really good, a brand I’d never heard of that advertised its cacao content on the wrapper. I took a long, luxurious shower with Gavin’s expensive bodywash. I scrubbed away all the sweat and grime of the site and let myself be seduced by the scent of a thousand tiny lavender blossoms growing on a hillside in Provence.
When I looked in my closet, I had no idea what to wear to dinner with Walter, because I didn’t know what to expect. Would he tell me that he’d made a deal with Roberto or with some other bank, and the warehouse development could continue? Or would he tell me that everything had fallen apart, and it was best if we didn’t see each other again?
I remembered what Walter had said, that he’d wanted to kiss me from the first time he saw me dressed up in my interview suit. Well, why not? I hadn’t worn the suit in months, but it hung pristine in its dry-cleaner bag. I put on my sexiest pair of Andrew Christian briefs, then stepped into the suit pants.
I pulled the plastic wrap off my best dress shirt and put it on, loving the feel of the soft cotton against my skin. My FU logo tie and my best black loafers finished the picture.
Gavin whistled when I stepped into the living room. “Whose funeral are you going to?”
“Maybe my own,” I said. “I’m meeting Walter for dinner at the Van Dyke.”
I took my time walking over there. It was hot and humid, and I was determined not to arrive at the restaurant looking like I’d been through a swamp. I got there just at eight, and Walter was waiting on the sidewalk for me.
He looked impossibly handsome, with a five o’clock shadow and a couple of stray black curls on his forehead. His chest bulged beneath his green Loredo polo shirt. He wolf-whistled, and I blushed. And then he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on the lips, which eliminated any doubts I had about the future of our relationship. An old queen at a sidewalk table snickered and said, “Get a room!”
Walter and I pulled apart, and we followed the hostess to a small wrought-iron table in the front window. “You sure it’s okay for us to be so public?” I asked Walter as we sat down. A warm, humid breeze blew past us, shaking the leaves of the palm tree outside, and I had this sudden vision of what life must have been like in Havana in the fifties, louche and sexy and tropical.
“I signed the divorce papers this morning,” he said. “Dolores had a sudden change of heart. It’s still going to cost me, but at least I’m free.”
“That’s terrific.” I told him about meeting her the day before, and how she had left the site with Hans-Friedrich. “Maybe he’s responsible for her attitude change.”
“If Hans-Friedrich can change her attitude so fast, he’s a better man than I am.” He picked up his menu. “I’m starving,” he said. “I need some meat.”
“Walter, not here,” I said, pretending to be shocked.
He guffawed. “There’ll be time enough for that later.”
As we read the menus, the background music switched to the song I’d assigned as Walter’s ringtone, UB40’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love with You,” and I realized just how hooked I was on Walter Loredo.
We ordered mojitos, Caesar salads, and steaks, and when the waiter had taken away the menus, Walter said, “That’s not all I did today.”
I picked up my water glass and sipped. “What else?”
“I spent a couple of hours with your friend Roberto.”
“He’s not exactly my friend,” I said.
“Well, he’s my BFF now,” Walter said. “Because he managed to convince one of his Venezuelan clients to lend me enough money to finish building out the warehouses, at an interest rate that won’t strangle me.”
The waiter delivered our mojitos, and Walter raised his glass to mine. “Thank you for everything, Manny. I couldn’t have managed all this chaos without you.”
I clinked my glass against his. “There’s more chaos waiting for you at the site. This afternoon—”
He interrupted me. “Work can wait until Monday morning. This weekend is just for you and me.”
I fiddled with my silverware. “I just want you to know that I recognize you’re right. There’s so much about construction and real estate development that I don’t know. It was silly of me to think I could take over Camilo’s job. I just want to keep doing what I’m doing and keep learning from you.”