Yes (15 page)

“I…. He’s doing good. I talked to him last night.”

“How’s your grandma?”

“She’s doing better, but I think Uncle Ian is going to be there awhile.”

Bartley turned his head, like he was distracted.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked.

Bartley looked back and blinked. “I’m fine.”

“Would you like a double-skim latte, like last time?”

“Thank you. That would be great. Sorry, I spaced out there for a moment. I haven’t been sleeping well lately. A double skim to go, please.”

Ryan made the drink, and Matthew rang up his order. “Here’s your change.”

“Thanks,” Bartley said as he deposited the three quarters into the tip jar. “Matthew, good luck with finals. And Ryan, I’ll see you Friday night, if not before.”

“Have a good day,” Ryan said.

“The next time you talk to your uncle, tell him I said hi, will you?”

“Sure. I’ll do that.”

Matthew began to say something as Bartley walked away, but Ryan turned and slapped his hand over Matthew’s mouth. Matthew’s eyes bulged out, and they both started laughing. Ryan removed his hand and said, “I don’t want to hear any of your lip right now, okay?”

“I still say you’re going to change your mind before Friday.”

A
S
AFTERNOON
approached Ryan regretted setting up his date with Sam at La Tazza. He had done it to throw Matthew off the scent, a moot point now that Ryan had admitted to the entire scheme. He thought about texting Sam and changing the location, or even canceling altogether, but then he remembered he could only text Sam from Ian’s phone.

At five o’clock, Sam arrived and waved at Ryan. Matthew stood next to him behind the bar and muttered, “Do you realize your life has turned into a season of
The Bachelor
?”

Ryan elbowed him in the ribs. “Why don’t you try helping me for a change, instead of causing trouble?”

“Trouble? When did I cause trouble?”

“Calling Bartley Monte?”

“Oh. That. You didn’t think it was funny?”

“Not the point. At all. I have to figure out a way to let Sam down easy.”

“So no rose for the pizza boy?” Matthew asked.

“What?”

“On
The Bachelor
. The dude gives a rose when he wants to keep someone around.”

“Are you telling me you’ve actually watched that show?”

“No, but I’ve watched
The Bachelorette
. Same concept, better eye candy.”

Sam walked up to the bar. “Howdy, Ryan. This is a cool hangout. Never been here before. How’d you get a job so fast?”

“My uncle owns the place. I’m covering for him while he’s out of town.”

“Right on. House-sitting and free coffee. Good deal.”

“Would you like a sandwich? Or something to drink?”

“Well, I’m starving, but I doubt I can afford your sandwiches. Maybe just a cup of regular coffee. Nothing fancy.”

Ryan picked up a menu and handed it to Sam. “The sandwich is on the house. Whatever you want.”

Sam looked awed. “Really?”

“Really. This is Matthew, by the way.”

“Sam White.”

The two young men shook hands.

Sam scanned the menu. “I’ll take the roast beef, then, but can you make it with white bread?”

“Sorry,” Matthew said, “but we don’t even stock white bread. How about a light whole wheat?”

Sam handed the menu to Matthew. “Okay. I reckon beggars can’t be choosers.”

“It comes with a cup of tomato soup too,” Ryan said.

“Can you add a bag of chips?”

“Sure,” Matthew said. “You want one, Ryan?”

“I’ll take a half. Keep mine on a French roll, though. And no chips.”

“You old enough for a beer, Sam?”

“Just turned twenty-one, but I’m not much of a drinker.”

“A coke, then?”

“Please,” Sam said.

“What kind?”

“Dr Pepper.”

Matthew nodded. “You two grab a table, and I’ll bring everything out when it’s ready.”

Ryan took a seat with Sam, who looked around La Tazza with excitement. “This is so cool, going out and meeting people. Who knew asking for your number would lead to a free sandwich?”

“Free sandwiches are my specialty,” Ryan said. “Do you do that a lot? Ask for numbers, I mean.”

“No. You’re the only one. Most of the customers are gross. But when you told me you liked boys too, I reckoned I should pounce on the chance to make a gay friend.”

“So you’re not looking at this as a date?”

Sam lowered his head. “No. The spark’s just not there. Is that okay?”

Ryan sighed with relief. “It’s more than okay. I’m actually interested in someone else right now.”

“Right on. I’d love to meet a nice guy, but all I’ve done since I moved to Austin is work.”

“When was that?”

“Three weeks ago,” Sam said. “I found my job on the second day, but I got to get me another one. I’m barely scraping by.”

“Maybe you can work here.”

“Well,” Sam said. “That’s nice of you, but I wasn’t trying to turn this into a job interview.”

“I know that. We’re losing a few baristas next month when school lets out. You should think about it.”

“Well, I’ll definitely fill out an application, if you think your uncle would hire me.”

“I’m doing the hiring while he’s gone, so it’s up to me.”

“Wow. Okay, then. I guess it’s settled.”

Matthew appeared at their table with a tray of sandwiches and drinks. He set down the tray and said, “Anything else I can get you?”

“Why don’t you join us?” Ryan said.

Matthew shook his head. “I don’t want to barge in on your date.”

Sam took a bite of his sandwich. “It’s not a date,” he said with his mouth full. “Pull up a chair and take a load off.”

Matthew turned around and checked the register. “Okay, but just until someone comes in.” He grabbed a stool from the adjacent table and sat down.

“Sam is looking for another job,” Ryan said. “So I suggested he work here.”

“You deliver pizza, right?” Matthew asked.

Sam nodded. “Papa John’s. Better ingredients. Better pizza. Better bullshit.”

“You don’t like it there?” Ryan said.

“What’s to like? It’s a below-minimum-wage job, and most people tip for crap. But my education ended in high school, so hoping for something better just makes me feel like a goddamned fool.”

“Talk about better bullshit,” Matthew said. “I’m sorry, but delivering pizza is not the best you can hope for. Even if all you have is a high-school diploma, you could at least aspire to work at a place like this.”

Ryan threw a couple of death stares in Matthew’s direction. “Take a Xanax or something, would you?”

“No, he’s right,” Sam said. “I have a tendency to get down on myself, and it’s good to hear someone tell me otherwise. But I never said I have a high-school diploma.” He took another bite of his sandwich and a spoonful of soup.

It looked to Ryan as if this might have been Sam’s first meal of the day. “What brought you to Austin?” Ryan asked.

“I had to get out of my current situation at the time. I was living with my mom and her boyfriend in a double-wide east of town and working at a seed factory in Bastrop. My mom’s boyfriend was a drunk and spent some time in prison. One night he and I got into a scuffle. Now you’ve got to understand, I’ve been fighting off drunks since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. I may be small, but I’m fast, and I got a mean left hook that no one sees coming. So I laid him out. And then I had about five minutes to pack everything and get the hell gone. I slept the first few nights in my truck. I quit my job in Bastrop and drove around Austin looking for a new one. I finally got hired at Papa John’s, and then I did a Craigslist search for rentals under two hundred bucks a month. All I could find was a room in some creepy guy’s house. My door doesn’t even have a lock on it.”

Matthew nudged Ryan. “We’ve got to help this kid.”

“No,” Sam said. “That’s not why I told you all that. I don’t need anyone to rescue me. I can take care of myself, thank you. Now, if you want to set me up with one of your cute friends, well, I wouldn’t turn that down.”

“What kind of guys do you like?” Matthew said.

“Smart.” Sam ate several spoonfuls of soup and then continued. “Brains are sexy as hell and a huge turn-on. I like ’em a little older too, but no one past thirty. A nice body don’t hurt, but no big muscle fags.”

Ryan looked at Matthew and silently mouthed, “Jeremy.”

Matthew nodded. “Do you know anything about sports?”

Sam wiped his face with a napkin. “I know a lot of things about sports. Why?”

“I’m putting together a team for Jeopardy Pursuit Night. It’s a trivia thing we do here, and I need someone to cover sports. Do you think you can do that?”

“No problemo, as long as I don’t have to be responsible for any of the other categories. When is it?”

Ryan swallowed a bite of his sandwich and answered, “A week from Thursday.” Then he turned to Matthew. “Uncle Ian told me Quentin and his brothers are virtually unbeatable.”

“The guy who calls me Harry? That little prick? Oh, I’m going to enjoy wiping the floor with his face. Unbeatable, my ass.”

“Why does he call you Harry?” Sam asked.

Before Matthew could answer, a customer walked through the east door and Matthew jumped off his stool. “I gotta head back to work, but make sure to give me your number before you leave, Sam.” He moved his stool to the side and ducked behind the bar.

Sam ate the last bite of his sandwich and emptied the crumbs from his bag of chips directly into his mouth. “You two make a cute couple.”

“Who?” Ryan said.

“You and Matthew. You said you were interested in someone else. It’s him, right?”

“No.”

Sam looked surprised. “Oh. Okay. You seem like a smart guy, Ryan.”

“I am.”

Sam took a swig of his Dr Pepper and said, “Then why can’t you see what’s right in front of your face?”

CHAPTER TEN

T
WO
DAYS
later, Ryan opened La Tazza well after sunrise. An unusually slow Friday morning gave way to a brisk lunch rush, and as things wound down around two, Ryan’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered.

“Hey, Uncle Mark. What’s up?”

“Admit it. There’s a part of you that relishes calling me that.”

“Don’t be so sensitive.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“What’s up?” Ian said.

“Are you nervous about your date?”

“No. I’m more nervous about seeing Matthew when our shifts overlap.”

“Why?”

“Because he expects me to come around to his way of thinking and cancel my plans with Bartley.”

“But you have Ian’s blessing,” Mark said.

“It doesn’t matter. Matthew thinks Ryan should back off and give Ian a chance with Bartley. And he’s right. That’s what sucks about this. Matthew is right, except for the tiny detail that Ian and Ryan are the same person. Oops. I forgot to mention that to him.”

“Is the train starting to fly off the tracks?”

“We’ll see. I like Matthew, but there’s no way I’m canceling my date with Bartley James.”

S
HORTLY
BEFORE
four o’clock, Matthew walked through the north door. He didn’t make eye contact with Ryan as he stepped behind the bar and said, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Ryan grunted.

“Your shift is over now, right?”

“Right.”

“So?” Matthew asked. “Any chance you canceled your plans with Bartley?”

“No. I’m sorry. I think you’re making way too much out of one dinner and expecting way too much from me. So I like the guy? That doesn’t make me a bad person. If Uncle Ian were here, and I thought for even one second that he liked Bartley, I would back off. I swear I would. But he said he wasn’t interested. He told me to go for it.”

“Read between the lines, dude.”

“I’m not canceling my plans. I’m sorry you have a problem with that.”

The chill between them felt like an Eskimo winter. With as little enthusiasm as possible, Matthew said, “Excellent. Have a nice evening, then.”

“Don’t forget to reserve the corner table for the freshman study group.”

“I won’t forget. I got everything covered. You can go out and relax and forget all about this place. And me, for that matter.”

“So I was right,” Ryan said. “That’s what this is about.”

Matthew huffed. “Of course that’s what this is about. I thought if I gave you enough time, you’d figure it out on your own, but it looks like that’s not going to happen. I like you, Parker. There, I said it. When I came in today, I was hoping you’d ask
me
to show you around the city. But you’d rather chase after someone who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I? Bartley comes in here sometimes when you’re not working. Does he ever ask about you? No, never. But do you know who he does ask about? Your uncle. Every. Single. Time. On Wednesday, I could hear your entire conversation. What was the first thing he asked you about?”

“Had I talked to Ian.”

“And what was the last thing he said to you?” Matthew asked.

“Tell Ian he said hi.”

“Doesn’t that send up a red flag? Wake up, Ryan. If you’re not into me, just say so, even though I know you’d be lying. But don’t go running after some douchebag who has the hots for your uncle. It’s embarrassing, for both of you.”

Ryan picked up his bag. “Thanks for the advice.”

“You asked for it. You said that if I liked someone, I should tell him. I’m sorry the timing is inconvenient for you.”

“Good night. If something comes up, call Colleen. I don’t want to hear from you this evening.”

R
YAN
LEFT
La Tazza, shaken and confused. He rode his bike back to the house and took a shower. Afterward, he smoked a joint and got into the Jacuzzi. He tried to unwind, but he kept playing the confrontation with Matthew over and over in his head.

He got dressed around six and poured himself a glass of milk. Bartley arrived about five minutes early. He wore loafers, jeans, and a short-sleeved polo shirt. It didn’t matter whether he was Ryan or Ian—Bartley always took his breath away.