Yes (26 page)

“I know,” Ian said. “You’re right. Still, it was nice to live in an alternate reality for a while.”

T
HE
NEXT
day, Ian opened La Tazza and worked the morning shift alone. Shortly before ten, Timothy called and asked for a few days off in May. Ian went to the calendar behind the bar and lifted up the April page. Timothy said something, but Ian just stared at the calendar. On Friday, May 16, someone had written:

Architect Happy Hour

A. Marlow

“Ian? You there?”

“Do you know who scheduled this event for May 16?”

“I did,” Timothy said. “I was going to tell you about it. The dude came in Saturday night when I was working by myself. Alexander Marlow was his name. He wanted to book La Tazza for a student happy hour. He mentioned Bartley James, so I took his information and put it on the calendar. I told him he had to confirm with you, though. He should be dropping by with Bartley this afternoon.”

“Are you sure he said this afternoon? With Bartley?”

“I’m sure. Trust me, this guy didn’t hold back on the details.”

“Okay. Thanks. What days did you want off again?”

A
FTER
HE
ended the call, Ian went into the seating area to bus tables. He was so distracted, he didn’t hear one of the customers say hello.

“Excuse me? Ian?”

“Oh. Hey, Dean. Sorry, I was off in la-la land. How’s the writing going?”

“Great, thank you. I took your advice and sent my manuscript to one of the smaller presses. They only publish historical fiction. Nothing else. Guess what? I got an acceptance e-mail yesterday.”

“Congratulations,” Ian said. “That’s amazing news.”

“They have editors and a cover art department. It’s going to be on Amazon and everything.”

“I’m so proud of you, Dean. Will you tell Terry Gross you wrote it at La Tazza when she has you on
Fresh Air
?”

Dean blushed. “You bet. Thanks for letting me sit here and write all day.”

“I’d be offended if you went anywhere else.” Ian carried the tub of glasses back to the bar and took out his phone. The morning had taken a very interesting turn. He Googled the neighborhood location and dialed the number.

A young woman answered. “Papa John’s, can I take your order?”

“May I speak to Sam White, please?”

“Sam’s not working today. I’d take a message, but I’m not his secretary.”

“Thank you.” Ian ended the call. He Googled “Harvest Island Academy” and scrolled through to their faculty page. When he saw a picture of Jeremy under the math department heading, he quickly thumbed over to his contacts and dialed Mark’s number.

“I had a lovely weekend too,” Mark answered. “You’re welcome.”

“Something weird is going on,” Ian said.

“What do you mean by weird?”

“That dream I told you about? The one I had on the plane? I’m not saying it happened, but some of the people I met in the dream are turning out to be real.”

“You must have met them and not remembered. That’s what dreams do. They tap into your subconscious.”

“No,” Ian said. “Dean got a book deal in the dream, and now he has a book deal in real life. As Ryan, I talked to a guy named Alexander Marlow. He booked a student happy hour in May. This morning I saw his event on the calendar. Mark, it wasn’t there before I went to Denver. What if everything I learned is true? What if everything I learned about Bartley is true?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“What if the kiss was magic?”

“I can’t believe we’re even having—”

“I promise you, I’m not making this up for attention. There’s something going on here. You have to believe me.”

“Okay,” Mark said. “Let’s pretend, for argument’s sake, that the kiss was… magic. You lived out some fantasies, and some people you met and things you learned turned out to be real. So what? Magic is supposed to grant you a wish or turn your enemy into a toad or make someone fall in love with you. Who cares if Alexander Marlow is real?”

“I haven’t told you about Sam and Jeremy.”

“Can you keep it high level? I’m at work.”

“Sam was the pizza boy, and Jeremy was a Grindr hookup. Matthew and I figured out they’re each other’s type, so we invited them to join the same Jeopardy Pursuit team. They totally hit it off, but there’s no way they’ll ever meet in real life.”

“Maybe Jeremy will order a pizza,” Mark said.

“Even if he did, he’d be too embarrassed to ask for Sam’s number.”

“So, this is about matchmaking?”

“It’s about showing two people an off-ramp to happiness. What if they’re made for each other, but I’m the only one who knows it? Mark, I’m about to do something completely off the hook. Do you want to be a part of it or not?”

After a moment, Mark answered, “I can get off work early and be there by four.”

“Perfect. That’s when Matthew starts his shift. I’m going to ask him to help too. And Quentin Walsh.”

Ian ended the call and dialed Quentin’s number.

“Hey, Ian. Is something wrong?”

“No. Sorry to bother you, Q, but I need your help. I think you’ll want to be in on this. Can you stop by La Tazza around four?”

“Umm, sure. What’s it about?”

“I’d rather give you the details in person.”

“Okay,” Quentin said. “You definitely have my curiosity piqued.”

Colleen arrived at noon and worked the lunch crowd with Ian. When the rush ended, Ian told her he had to step out for an hour or two. He drove to the tattoo parlor on Airport and Forty-Fifth Street and asked for Rachel. A young woman matching Bartley’s description appeared from the back and introduced herself.

“This is going to sound bizarre,” Ian said. “But I think you did a tattoo for a friend of mine last week. It was one of the Chinese symbols for ‘forgiveness.’”

Rachel smiled and gestured toward her chair. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

A
T
FOUR
o’clock in the afternoon, Ian returned to La Tazza Magica, where he was soon joined by Mark and Quentin. Matthew arrived as well and took his place behind the bar next to Ian. He nodded awkwardly toward Quentin and said hello. In the alternate dimension, they were all friends, but here the three of them had never met, so Ian introduced them.

“What’s going on, boss?” Matthew asked. “Did I miss something?”

“No,” Ian said. “Let me explain. Some of this is going to sound a little crazy, but try to look past that aspect and focus on my proposal.”

Mark pointed at Ian’s bandaged forearm. “Did you burn yourself?”

The north door opened, and instead of answering, Ian turned and grinned. Matthew nudged him and said, “Who’s the hottie with Bartley?”

“His name is Alexander Marlow.”

“Introduce me to him.
Please
.”

Ian walked around the bar and met them in the middle of the main aisle. The smile on Bartley’s face confirmed what Ian already suspected. He wrapped his arms around Bartley and pulled him close. If he was surprised, Bartley didn’t show it. He buried his face in Ian’s chest and hugged him back.

“How did you know I missed you?” Bartley said.

“I’ll explain everything.”

Bartley pulled away and noticed the bandage on the inside of Ian’s left arm. “What did you do?”

“I’ll explain that as well.” Ian kept his arm around Bartley’s shoulder as he turned to Alexander Marlow.

“Who’s your friend?”

“This is Alexander,” Bartley said. “He’s one of the UT architecture students I’m mentoring this semester.” Bartley wrapped his arm around Ian’s waist and tightened his grip. He introduced himself to Mark and Quentin. “Is this some kind of secret meeting?”

“We’re hatching a plan,” Ian said.

Alexander Marlow stepped forward, and Ian heard the voice again, exactly as he remembered it. “May I inquire as to what type of plan you are in the process of hatching?”

Ian could feel Matthew swoon from across the counter.

“Let’s get everybody drinks first,” Ian said. He reluctantly released Bartley, and their fingers intertwined for a moment as Ian slipped behind the bar. Matthew took their orders, and Ian knocked them out—a cappuccino, an espresso, a double-skim latte, and a bottle of filtered water. Ian made a soy latte for himself and went back out front so he could sit next to Bartley. As Ian handed Bartley his double skim, they looked at each other and laughed. This felt more unreal than the Manick Butter trip.

“What’s going on?” Bartley said as he sat next to Ian. “We just came in to put a special event on your calendar.”

Ian put his arm around the back of Bartley’s chair. “I know that, but then Alexander inquired as to what type of plan we are in the process of hatching, so do you want to hear it or not?”

Alexander Marlow sat his bag down on one of the nearby tables but remained standing. “I would like to hear it. Please, if you do not object, Mr. James.”

Bartley took a sip of his latte. “Absolutely. I’m dying to find out what happens next, because this is turning out to be one hell of a day.” He leaned into Ian, and their legs brushed.

Then everyone gathered around, and Ian began his story: “When Mark and I were in Denver, I bought a chocolate kiss laced with THC. I have a feeling I don’t need to explain what that means, even if you’ve never done it yourself. I ate it right before the trip back to Austin. On the plane, I fell asleep and had a dream that I was twenty-one again. Crazy, I know. But what happened in the dream is almost inconsequential. The important thing is what happened when I woke up. People I met in the dream turned out to be real.”

“Like who?” Alexander said.

“Like you.”

Alexander Marlow looked unfazed.

“I met you in my dream,” Ian continued. “Your mother is a private detective, and you’re going to work for her in September.”

“You are correct, Mr. Parker.”

“Your father’s from Argentina, and you’re going to recreate
The Motorcycle Diaries
.”

“You are no longer correct. My father runs a chain of dry cleaners in Odessa.”

“Really?” Ian said. “Okay. So that means some of the things I learned are true and some aren’t. This should be interesting, then. Matthew, did you move to Austin after your father died? When you were fifteen?”

“How did you know that?”

“Are you writing a paper about gay porn for a Performance Studies class?”

Matthew laughed from behind the bar. “I wish.”

“Quentin, do you know Topher Manning, the lead singer of Dime Box?”

“Very well. I’ve known him for a couple of years.”

“Have you ever been to San Diego?”

“Nope. Never.”

Matthew raised his hand. “What does this have to do with a plan, boss?”

“Hey,” Bartley said as he put his hand on Ian’s leg. “What about me?”

Ian felt himself turn red and took Bartley’s hand. “I’ll get to you in a minute. But right now, we need to focus on Sam and Jeremy.”

“What you two need to do is get a room,” Matthew said. “And who are Sam and Jeremy?”

“Two guys I met in my dream. They exist in real life. They’re made for each other, and they don’t even know it, and they’re never going to meet unless we do something. That’s what this is about. Matthew, you and Sam are like brothers in my dream dimension. He’s this twenty-one-year-old struggling kid who delivers pizza, and Jeremy is an adorkable math teacher from a wealthy Dallas family. I need to figure out a way they can meet naturally, without any pressure. Whatever we do has to be completely invisible. That’s the mission I place in front of you today, gentlemen. Design a blueprint to bring Sam and Jeremy together without them knowing about it.”

There was a long pause.

“Will we ever tell them?” Mark asked.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Ian said. “I guess we can play it by ear.”

Bartley took another sip of his drink. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but count me in.”

“Me as well,” Alexander said. “If, in fact, I have been formally invited to participate.”

“You have,” Ian said as he looked at Quentin for an answer.

“Are you kidding? I live for this kind of shit.”

Ian turned to Matthew, who nodded and said, “Of course. I can’t wait to meet this Sam dude. And where does Jeremy teach high school?”

“Harvest Island Academy,” Ian said.

“No way,” Matthew said. “That’s where I went.”

“My little brother, Cade, just finished his sophomore year there.”

“That may prove useful,” Alexander said.

Matthew smiled and nodded. “We should use La Tazza as the meeting place.”

“Just have a pizza delivered here,” Mark suggested.

“But how do we make sure Sam’s the one who delivers it?” Quentin asked.

Alexander pulled up a stool and sat down. “We call ahead and inform the pizza parlor management that we are sponsoring a surprise birthday party for Sam, and would it be possible to assign a certain order to him.”

“You’re good at this,” Matthew said.

“But how do we get Jeremy here?” Quentin asked.

“That’s where your brother will come into play,” Alexander said. “But the setup cannot be dependent on a single meeting. We must design a plan that will bring them together over a sustained period of time.”

“In my dream,” Ian said, “we got them on the same Jeopardy Pursuit team.”

Alexander Marlow looked puzzled. “I have no idea what that is.”

“I’ll explain it to you,” Matthew said.

Ian tapped Bartley on the shoulder and nodded toward the patio. “I think they can get the ball rolling. Can we talk for a minute in private?”

“Sure,” Bartley said as he followed Ian outside.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Ian said.

“Sure is.” Bartley chuckled.

“What?”

Bartley shook his head and grinned. “You’re a real character, you know that? What you did in there?”

“What harm can come of it? If Sam and Jeremy don’t like each other, then at least we tried, right? At least we did everything we could.”