Authors: Brad Boney
Bartley laughed. “
Forbidden Love
?”
“Very good. Americans only know Brian and Justin from
Queer As Folk
, or Will and Sonny, of course, but there are all these other gay supercouples out there they’ve never even heard of, let alone seen. I recently lost an entire Saturday afternoon to Elias and Lari.”
“Where are they from?”
“Finland. I can’t pronounce the original title, but it translates as
Secret Lives
. Did you know people in Finland have saunas in their apartment buildings?”
“I didn’t know that.” Bartley took a sip of his latte. “You got any big plans for the weekend?”
“My friend Mark is taking me to Denver for my birthday.”
“Today’s your birthday?”
“No, tomorrow.”
“Happy early birthday. How old?”
Ian hesitated as he spooned some dressing onto the sandwich. “Forty.”
“Ouch. I’m coming up on thirty next year, and that’s scary enough. I can’t imagine what forty must feel like. Why Denver?”
“Mark is a big pothead. Sunday is April 20, and he wants to be there for the first legal 420 celebration and rally.”
“So you’re going somewhere for him on
your
birthday weekend?”
“I know. I do want to see what it’s like at this stage, though, before it gets all commercialized.”
“Do you smoke, yourself?”
Ian nodded. “Occasionally.”
Matthew walked up to the counter with his busing tub. He grabbed two glasses and said, “I’m going into the back to start these.”
Bartley smiled and said, “Hi, Matt.”
“Hey, Mr. James.”
Matthew turned away, and Ian tried not to laugh when he saw Bartley’s ashen face. Once Matthew turned the corner, Ian said, “That’s what forty feels like. I see you’ve already introduced yourself.”
“Where did you find him, anyway?”
“He filled out an application like everyone else.”
“And I suppose the fact that he looks like Andrew Garfield had nothing to do with why you hired him.”
“Please,” Ian said. “I’m old enough to be his father.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you want to sleep with him. I meant he’s a good business decision. A lot of your young female customers will specifically choose this place over Starbucks because of him.”
“And I hope a lot of the young male ones too. For his sake.”
“Is he gay?”
Ian finished the sandwich and sliced it in half. “I asked him on the second day if he had a girlfriend—you know, almost in passing—and he said, ‘Nope, I’m gay.’ No hesitation whatsoever. It’s a different world for these kids today. But if you plan on asking him out, stop calling him Matt. He hates that.”
“Ask him out? No, that’s not my plan. But why didn’t he correct me?”
“Because people who work for tips aren’t in the habit of contradicting customers.” Ian wrapped the sandwich and handed it to Bartley. “That’s four twenty-five for the latte.” Bartley gave him a five dollar bill, and Ian noticed a large bandage on the inside of his right forearm. “What’s that?”
Bartley sat the sandwich on the bar next to his double skim and peeled back the bandage. He displayed a fresh tattoo of a single Chinese symbol. “I just got it last night.”
“What does it mean?” Ian asked.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m keeping that a secret for now.”
“No, that’s cool. I totally understand. Every man should be entitled to a little mystery.” Ian carefully examined the tattoo as he handed Bartley his change. “Where did you get it done?”
“The place over near Airport and Forty-Fifth Street.” Bartley replaced the bandage and deposited the change directly into the tip jar. He picked up his sandwich and latte. After a brief hesitation, he said, “You know, we should get dinner sometime.”
Ian felt his face get warm. Was Bartley asking him out?
“As friends.”
Of course. As friends. In other words, no, Bartley was not asking him out. Not on a date, at least. They were going to be buddies. Wingmen. Bros. Ian plastered a smile on top of his disappointment and said, “I’d enjoy that.”
“Excellent. Let’s shoot for next week. Thanks again for the sandwich. I’ll see you soon.”
“Good luck with the groundbreaking tomorrow.”
Bartley left the shop, and Ian cursed under his breath. He went into the back to relieve Matthew. “I’ll finish the dishes,” Ian told him. “You can go cover the register.”
“You sure? I don’t mind.”
“I’m sure.”
Matthew dried his hands with a towel. “Are you okay? You seem upset about something.”
“I’m fine, but I’d rather have you up front. It’s a good business decision. I’m trying to pull in the young and hip crowd, and no one thinks young and hip when they see me.”
Matthew hung the towel on one of the hooks beside the dishwasher. “How old are you, anyway?”
“I’m glad you asked me that today. I’m thirty-nine.”
“Why? What happens tomorrow?”
Ian removed some glasses from a rack and placed them on one of the metal shelves. “I turn forty.”
“Forty’s not that old.”
“Thanks, but we both know you’re only saying that because I’m your boss.”
“No, I’m not.” Matthew ignored Ian’s instructions and began filling an empty rack with dirty cups and glasses. “Do you have a thing for Mr. James?”
Ian felt himself blushing and turned away. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because you don’t exactly give free sandwiches to everyone. And I’ve noticed you get nervous around him.”
“Whether or not I have a thing for Bartley is irrelevant. I’m too old for him.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve seen the boys he brings in here,” Ian said. “Bartley is out of my league.”
“Have you ever asked him out?”
“No, but he just invited me to dinner. As friends.”
“Oh.” Matthew nodded. “So that’s why you’re upset. You want it to be more than friends.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. Do you mind if I offer a different perspective?”
“Sure. Why not? It’s a two penny ante to play.”
Matthew reached into his pocket, pulled out two pennies, and set them on the counter next to Ian. “Sometimes guys use the ‘as friends’ thing to ward off rejection. Test the waters, so to speak. You know, gauge interest. How long has he been coming in here?”
“He moved to the neighborhood with his boyfriend last year. He started coming in then.”
“He has a boyfriend?”
“No, not anymore. They broke up last fall.”
Matthew slid the rack of dirty cups and glasses into the dishwasher, closed the steel door, and pressed the red Start button. “And the boys he’s brought in since then? They’ve been younger?”
“Your age.”
“And how old was the ex-boyfriend?”
“In his thirties,” Ian said.
“Well, that explains it. The twinks were rebound sex. He needed to prove he still has it, you know? But he wasn’t serious about any of them. Now, suppose he wakes up one morning and he is serious.
About you
, for example. Put yourself in his shoes. He comes in here all the time and thinks you’re a total stud. You’re tall, handsome, well built—you’ve got that whole Al Parker, muscle daddy thing going on.”
“How do you know who Al Parker is?”
“I watch a lot of vintage porn, but that’s beside the point. Clearly you have a perception problem, boss. It sounds like you don’t see yourself the way other people see you. Trust me, there’s no reason why Bartley James wouldn’t want to date you. The question is, would you want to date him? Sure, maybe you flirt around, but how does he know you don’t do that with all the customers? How does he know you don’t give them all free sandwiches? You see what I’m saying? You own the place where he gets his coffee. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable if you’re just being friendly, so he’s keeping things on ice in case you’re not interested. He’s providing you with a graceful exit, which means he’s at least an above-average guy. He probably thinks he has a better chance with you if the setting is low-key.”
“Really?”
“Totally. You should definitely hang out with Mr. James and see where it goes.”
“So you think he’s into me?” Ian asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know. All I’m saying is, you can’t rule it out based on him asking you to dinner as friends. If he wants to jump your bones, something tells me he’ll find a way to let you know.”
“What does that mean?”
“Come on, boss.” The green light on the dishwasher started to blink, and Matthew lifted the door and stepped away from the emerging steam. “You don’t recognize a player when you see one? The dude’s too perfect, with his Liam Hemsworth chin and his Chris Pine eyes. And the way he introduces himself? ‘Hi, I’m James. Bartley James.’ Ridiculous.”
“I think it’s charming.”
“Of course you do.” Matthew reached in and slid out the tray, then tapped it a few times to shake off the remaining droplets of water. “Look, I said he’s above average, didn’t I? But it wouldn’t kill you to be a little wary. With guys like that, you can’t believe everything that comes out of their mouths.”
“Sounds like you had your heart broken pretty bad.”
“This isn’t about me.”
“I was only welcoming you to the club.” Ian removed several of the glasses from Matthew’s clean rack and placed them on the middle shelf. “Did you call him Mr. James on purpose?”
“Maybe. He keeps calling me Matt.”
“I told him to stop.”
“Really? Thanks. That was nice of you.” Matthew piled a few coffee cups and moved them to the top shelf. “Look, you guys would make a great couple. That’s all I’m saying. He’s not my type, but I can absolutely see why you have a thing for him.”
Ian grumbled. “Even if you’re right, there are still other reasons why it would never…. Forget it.”
“What?”
“You’re too young to understand.”
“Wow,” Matthew said. “You have no idea how offensive that is.”
“I’m sorry. But there’s no way you can understand regret.”
“What could you possibly have to regret? You run your own business. That’s the dream, dude.”
“That’s not the whole picture,
dude
.” Ian wiped down the counter with one of the towels. “La Tazza is the one thing I’ve done right, but it can’t erase the decade and a half that came before it. I was a mess, plain and simple. I took stupid risks and flushed what should have been the best fifteen years of my life down the toilet. I missed that crucial off-ramp to happiness, and now I can never go back and find it. I may be successful, but I’m also alone. Learn from my mistakes, Padawan. Make something of your life while you’re still young enough to enjoy it.”
“Would you go back?” Matthew said. “If someone gave you the chance?”
Ian chuckled. “Are you serious? In a heartbeat. I could reshape my whole life.”
Matthew looked unconvinced. He arranged the empty racks on top of the dishwasher and then leaned against the counter. He folded his hands across his chest and said, “I don’t know. I think I might avoid certain mistakes, but then I’d end up making brand new ones. Rethinking the past is a pointless exercise.”
“Maybe.” Ian heard the west door open. “Someone just came in. Out to the front, please.”
“Okay, I’m going. You should listen to me, though, about Mr. James. I’m pretty smart for a college student, even if I can’t work an espresso machine.”
“Yet,” Ian said. “Give it time. You’ve only been at it for a few days. It’s like driving a stick shift.”
“Maybe that’s my problem.”
“You’ve never driven a manual transmission before?”
“Nope.”
“Man, that’s a shame.”
Matthew turned to go but then stopped and said, “One last thing. Someone asked me yesterday what La Tazza Magica means. I felt like an idiot because I didn’t have an answer for her.”
“Your generation doesn’t know how to use Google Translate?”
Matthew grinned. “I think she was just flirting with me.”
“It’s Italian for ‘the magic cup.’”
“Oh, cool.”
“I always wanted to open an enchanted coffee shop. Pretty stupid, huh?”
“Not at all. Look, you provide jobs for college students. I don’t know if I’d call that enchanted, but it’s definitely not stupid. If I haven’t said thank you for hiring me, well, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now up front. And don’t forget. Colleen’s in charge this weekend while I’m gone. Whatever she says goes.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Matthew grinned. “Oh, and since I won’t be seeing you tomorrow, happy birthday.”
W
HEN
I
AN
got home after closing, he poured a glass of red wine and sat in his dark kitchen. He downloaded
John Denver’s Greatest Hits
and both Dime Box albums onto his phone for the plane ride. He glanced at the time. It was after midnight and officially his birthday. He got up and went to the counter. He had bought a six-pack of cupcakes as a treat, and he put one onto a plate. Ian rummaged through several drawers until he found a box of candles and some matches. He pressed one of the candles into the chocolate icing and lit it. The glow from the flame threw shadows around the kitchen as he sang “Happy Birthday” to himself. Then he closed his eyes and blew out the candle. Since no one could hear him, Ian didn’t see any harm in saying it out loud.
“I wish I could go back and do it all over again.”
CHAPTER TWO
T
HE
NEXT
morning at six, Ian stood at the foot of his driveway and waited for his best friend, Mark. A single piece of rolling luggage rested beside him. The sun wouldn’t rise for another hour and a half, but the temperature had already climbed into the sixties. Spring in Austin could be unpredictable, but Ian never considered living anywhere else.
He pulled out his phone and swiped the screen. He opened up Grindr out of habit. No messages. He scrolled through the thumbnails of headless torsos and the occasional face pic. Barely anyone over thirty. What did he expect in a neighborhood so close to campus? A flash of headlights appeared at the end of the block, and Ian put his phone away. The car stopped in front of his house, and the trunk popped open. Ian laid his bag next to Mark’s, slammed the trunk closed, and got into the passenger seat.