Yes (9 page)

Ian stacked their plates and carried them to the sink. “Why can’t Ian move to Belize or Thailand? Death is so permanent.”

“What happens when Ryan gets married? His uncle doesn’t even bother to show up for his wedding, like Sonny’s brothers on
Days
? Where were they when he married Will? They were nowhere to be found, that’s where. Have you ever heard of anything so preposterous in all your life?”

“Can we get back to me, please?”

“At a certain point, you’ll have no other choice but to kill Ian off. How do you think I’m going to feel? I’m losing my best friend.”

“No, you’re not.” Ian left the dishes in the sink and returned to his stool. “Just because I’m starting over, it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten all the hangovers we nursed together.”

“Things may be the same privately, but in public? You’ll be Ryan. People will think I’m pathetic if I hang out with a twenty-one-year-old all the time.”

“That’s nonsense. You and Ryan could get to know each other and become good friends, especially if you were his dead uncle’s BFF. Transgenerational friendships are very common in the gay community. What do you care if a handful of assholes think it’s weird?”

“You have no idea what’s going to happen when you start hanging out with people your own age.”

“I have some idea. I know I’m not going to turn into a total dick.”

“Fine. Forget I said anything. How are you doing otherwise?”

Ian shrugged and finished his glass of milk. “I can’t believe Friday is three days away. I’m ready to get this show on the road.”

CHAPTER SIX

M
ARK
CAME
over for dinner again the following night, and Ian ate the entire meal in character as Ryan. They continued to expand Ryan’s biography and even layered in a few contradictions to make his personality more three dimensional. Mark suggested that Ryan’s tastes should occasionally diverge from Ian’s, in order to avoid raising any eyebrows. They decided, therefore, that Ryan loved crime procedurals, hated
American Hustle
, and thought the ending of
The Sopranos
was brilliant.

On Thursday, Mark arrived with Ryan’s new ID, and Ian prepared to play him around the clock. He called Colleen from Ryan’s phone and introduced himself. He told her he’d just arrived in Austin and that he’d be at La Tazza bright and early the next day. He also mentioned that his uncle had told him so many nice things about her.

As he shaved in the mirror on Friday morning, Ian noticed that Ryan’s reflection was becoming more familiar with each passing day. He got dressed and rode his bike the short distance to La Tazza. When he arrived, he entered through the east door. No one had turned on the music yet. When he saw Colleen cleaning the espresso machine, Ryan took a deep breath and walked up to the bar. “I’m looking for Colleen.”

“That’s me. Are you Ian’s nephew?”

He nodded. “I’m Ryan.”

“Sorry to hear about your grandmother. Must be bad if Ian had to fly straight from Denver.”

“She had emergency surgery, but she’s stable now. My grandfather’s going to need help while she recovers, though, so Uncle Ian may be gone awhile.”

Colleen laughed. “Uncle Ian. That’s cute. He is kind of everyone’s favorite uncle, isn’t he?” She stepped away from the machine and put her hands on the bar. “So how does all this break down? Are you running the place now?”

“Well, give me a day to get up to speed, but after that I’ll be able to take over.”

Colleen looked relieved. “Damn, I’m glad to hear that. I’m a grad student, and I have a huge seminar paper due next week. My only responsibility here has been to run things when Ian’s gone, but that’s about all I can handle.”

“If you can finish your shift today, I can give you the rest of the weekend off. How’s that?”

Colleen took a sip of her latte. “I like you already, but there’s no way you can learn everything in one day.”

“Didn’t my uncle tell you I used to work here?”

“No, I guess he left that part out.”

“Three years ago,” Ryan said.

“Ah. Must have been before my time.”

“I lived with him for the summer. I know this place up, down, and sideways. And now that I’m old enough to serve alcohol, I can finally work alone. I’ll handle the vendors, place the orders, pay the bills, and make up the schedules too.”

“How’s your latte art?” Colleen asked.

“Can I show you?”

“Be my guest.”

Ryan walked around and slipped behind the bar. He made a cup of espresso and poured in the steamed milk, leaving a classic tulip design on the surface.

“Very nice,” Colleen said.

“I learned from the master.”

“You’ve obviously used that machine before. It can be a real bitch sometimes, but your uncle refuses to buy a modern one.”

“He says it—”

“I know. I know. It makes the best cup of espresso in Austin. I’ve heard it a million times, but look around. Do you think people come here for the espresso? No, they don’t. Your uncle charges three sixty-five for a single latte. You know how much Epoch and Flightpath charge?”

“No.”

“Three dollars. How does he get away with that?”

Ryan shrugged, but Ian found this new side of Colleen fascinating.

“I’ll tell you how he gets away with it, and I’ll tell you in one word. Atmosphere. Do you know some people believe this place is actually enchanted? Students tell me they do better on their tests when they study here. And see that guy over on the sofa?” Colleen nodded toward Dean, a retired CEO who now fancied himself an author of historical fiction. “He wrote two novels in his study at home and got nothing but rejection. A year ago he started coming here to write, and yesterday he told me his third book got picked up by a small press in New York. They’re going to give him a profile on Amazon and everything.”

Ian wanted to walk right over and say congratulations. He’d been encouraging Dean for months to submit his manuscript to one of the niche publishing houses, and now it had finally paid off. But of course, Dean had never met Ryan.

“So you’re saying my uncle could buy a new machine, make all the employees happy, and not lose any customers?”

Colleen winked at him. “You catch on quick.”

R
YAN
WORKED
the day shift with Colleen, and he pretended not to know certain things to make his training more believable. He started to get excited as afternoon approached. Matthew would be in at four, and Ian wondered how he would interact with Ryan. Now that they were the same age, Ian thought they might become friends, especially since Matthew didn’t technically work for Ryan. And what would the freshman study group think of Ian’s nephew from California? Would Quentin invite him to a party or maybe just to hang out?

The person Ian most wanted to see, however, was Bartley James. As Ryan, Ian now believed he stood a chance at something more than friendship with the studly architect. He sat smack in the middle of Bartley’s dating demo, and there would be no awkward disclosures of HIV.

At about five minutes ’til four, Ian heard Colleen talking to someone in the back. He took a step closer and recognized Matthew’s voice. A few moments later, they came up front, and Colleen introduced him.

“Ryan Parker. Nice to meet you.”

They shook hands.

“Matthew Butler. Sorry about your grandma. Nice of you to cover for your uncle, though.”

Ryan shrugged. “I didn’t have a job anyway.”

Colleen gathered her book bag and coat from behind the bar. “Can you boys hold down the fort if I leave you alone for the night?”

“We’ll be fine,” Ryan said. “I have a set of keys and I’ll open tomorrow morning at eight. Spend the rest of the weekend writing your seminar paper.”

“Are you sure? You have my cell number in case anything happens.”

“I’m sure.”

“I’m working on Sunday too,” Matthew said. “I might be able to answer some questions and help him a little.”

Colleen laughed. “You’ve been here all of two weeks. You haven’t even figured out the machine yet.”

Matthew grinned. “Hey, but the customers love me, right?”

“And that’s all that matters.” Colleen waved to them as she walked toward the door. “Don’t call me unless the place is on fire.”

She left them alone with a spattering of students, most of whom were only drinking the free water. “This is kind of a slow time of day,” Matthew said. “Things usually pick up around four thirty or five.”

With no customers to serve, they sat on stools behind the bar and waited. Ryan pulled out his phone and launched the home screen.

“What?” Matthew said. “Is that the new S5?”

“I just bought it a few days ago.”

“Can I take a look?”

“Sure.” Ryan handed him the phone.

“This is sweet,” Matthew said as he thumbed around. “Why don’t you have any contacts?”

Ian had already thought of that. “I haven’t transferred them over from my iPhone yet.”

“You can do that right on the Samsung website, you know? You plug in your iPhone, the website grabs all your compatible content, and then you plug this in and everything loads. Text messages, photos, contacts—you name it. I never owned an iPhone, but I watched my friend Cecilia do it. You’re gonna love the bigger screen. And did you know it automatically scrolls while you read?”

“No way.”

“I’m not shitting you, dude.” Matthew handed the phone back to Ryan and looked down. “Why are you wearing your uncle’s shoes?”

Ian had
not
already thought of that. Ryan bought new jeans and shirts but forgot about footwear. In the fraction of an instant, he decided he shouldn’t try to convince Matthew that the shoes didn’t belong to Ian. “How did you know they were his?”

“The laces. Those are very distinctive laces, and I remember noticing them the day I started here.”

“I forgot to pack a good pair of shoes for being on my feet all day. I only wear flip-flops at home and didn’t even think about it. Since Uncle Ian and I wear the same size shoe, I asked him if I could borrow something from his closet.”

“That’s weird, though. He always wears those shoes. I might even guess they’re his favorite pair. It’s hard to believe he went to Denver without them.”

“Maybe he has more than one pair. Some people do that, you know, when they find shoes they really like.”

“Maybe,” Matthew said. Then he stared at Ryan for a moment. “There’s definitely a family resemblance.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“But it’s not like anyone’s going to mix you two up. You’re a twink and he’s a daddy. Not like he isn’t a hot daddy…. I mean—I didn’t mean I think your uncle is hot. But some guys are into the whole daddy thing, and if that’s the case, then he would be considered pretty…. Never mind.”

“Are you…?”

“Into the whole daddy thing?”

“No,” Ryan said. “Are you gay?”

“Oh. I guess I didn’t establish that, did I? Is that a problem?”

“No. I’m gay too.”

“Really? Does your uncle know?”

“He was the first person I came out to. He helped with my parents, and I even spent a summer here. That’s how I know how to work the machine.”

“You already know how to work that piece of shit?”

Ian was certainly learning a lot about his employees. “It’s not that tough. It just takes a little patience and finesse.”

“That’s what everyone says. I shouldn’t complain. Any other boss would have fired me by now, but your uncle is pretty cool.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. He knows I’m gay, and I know he’s gay, but he’s never said anything even remotely creepy to me. A lot of guys his age can be total pervs. You know what I mean.”

“Spend five minutes on Grindr.”

“Right?” Matthew said. “Dude, I had to get rid of it. Seriously. I had to delete it from my phone. Guys would send me pictures of their junk, from out of the blue. No, ‘Hi, what’s up?’ Just, ‘Here’s my junk.’ And some nasty looking dicks too. The last time I got on, I had something like twenty messages. Everything from ‘let’s fuck’ to ‘you’re a stuck-up asshole.’ Do people really expect me to answer every single message?”

“No response is a response.”

“Exactly. And half the time the app didn’t even work, so I finally deleted it.”

“Congratulations, you’re Grindr-free. I’m Facebook-free.”

“Really? Now that takes balls.”

“What kind of guys do you like?” Ryan asked.

“I don’t have a type, per se. If the attraction is mutual, I don’t give a shit if anyone else thinks he’s hot. Though I guess I do gravitate toward guys my age. And it helps if he’s a top, or at least mostly a top.”

Ryan smiled.
That’s new information
.

“What about you?” Matthew asked.

“I like older men, but not daddies. More like the older brother type. Clean cut. Dreamy. The kind of guy who could whisk me off to Mykonos or Saint-Tropez.”

“Sugar daddy, eh?”

“No, nothing like that. I can pay my own way.”

Matthew laughed and slapped Ryan on the back. “I know your type, Parker. You’re looking for a Madison Avenue penthouse with Gucci sheets on the bed.”

“Is it wrong to like nice things?”

“No, not at all,” Matthew said. “Anything else you want to add about your dream man?”

“Oh, it helps if he’s a bottom, or at least mostly a bottom.”

“Really? Well now, it’s hard to find a young guy who knows what he’s doing in the top department.”

“I’ve been having sex since I was fifteen,” Ryan said. “I fucked Casper Middleton in the boys’ locker room after a lacrosse match.”

“What position did you play?”

“I was an attacker. He was the goalie, and a senior.”

“How old are you, anyway?”

“Twenty-one.”

Matthew grinned. “Well, I’m twenty-two, so I guess that technically qualifies me as the older-brother type.”

Ryan felt his face turn red, but before he could react, the west door opened and a large group walked in.

Matthew jumped off his stool. “Since you know how to work the machine, how about I take the orders. I’m good at that part.” Over the next two hours, Ryan and Matthew developed a shorthand and a rhythm together. They flirted with the girls and joked with the guys (or sometimes vice versa) and never got a single order wrong. Around six o’clock Ian realized he needed to save the corner table for the freshman study group. It didn’t seem realistic that Ian would remember to tell Ryan about such a small detail, so he went to the bathroom and called Mark.