Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“Well, experience has borne me out, hasn’t it? Remember Jason?”
Jason was a sacker at the local supermarket, a Greek god, according to Paul. Paul had been smitten from the moment the guy asked him if he wanted paper or plastic. Engaged to be married, he’d nevertheless succumbed to Paul’s persistent charms. They’d had a wild couple of trysts before Paul had lost interest and moved on.
Will knew the only reason Paul remained interested in him was precisely because they never got involved above the waist. They were, to use Paul’s crude words, fuck buddies.
“I remember Jason, but he was just an impressionable kid. This guy is in his forties. He was married for a hundred years. No doubt he’s set in his straight-and-narrow ways.”
“Have you felt him out about it? Is he dating again? Seeing other women? If not, how come? Is he lonely? If you’re determined to get in this guy’s pants, maybe you could take the friend route.” Paul motioned with his fingers, drawing quotations in the air around the word “friend”. “You know, invite him out for lunch or drinks or something. Nothing too threatening. Get to know him outside the confines of his working for you. Be a sympathetic ear, if he needs one. Gently broach the subject of your own orientation. See how he reacts. Remember, most of what we want can be achieved if we just visualize the goal and go for it.”
As Will started to protest, Paul held up a hand. “Hey, you never know until you try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Unless he’s in that five percent of the population that is totally, one hundred percent straight, you’ve got a shot. Better than a shot, given your hot bod and dreamy green eyes. Shit, he’s probably already jerking off at night, thinking of you.”
Will shook his head. “Not everyone has your take on the world, Paul,” he said with a laugh. Nevertheless, maybe Paul was right, at least about the way to approach him. He’d wait until the job was nearly complete—that way Jack would have an easy out if he wasn’t interested.
That time came even sooner than he expected. Jack worked quickly and before they knew it the kitchen would be done. Will was delighted with how it was turning out, but anxious at the realization Jack would then be gone.
He hadn’t shown up at all the day before, much to Will’s disappointment. When the doorbell rang Will leaped up from his coffee and paper and hurried to answer it. Jack stood on the doorstep, a large bag in his hand.
“Here are the cabinet door handles, at last. I managed to find an oak leaf like we talked about, in burnished silver.” He held one up for Will’s inspection. “I think they’ll be a nice touch, matching the ceiling tiles as they do.”
They walked together to the kitchen and stood side by side, admiring the gleaming new appliances, the shiny white cabinets and black marble countertops. Jack held one of the knobs up to a cabinet and turned to Will for approval. Will nodded—they were perfect.
“This should wrap things up. I just want to put one more coat of paint on the walls above the sink and cabinets and I should be done.”
“You’re really something,” Will enthused. “I can’t believe how well the whole thing has come together. You’re a real Renaissance man of renovation.”
Jack grinned. “I like what I do. I believe in putting everything you’ve got into whatever you do. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
“What, indeed,” Will murmured. He recalled Paul’s remark that Jack might be lonely. Seizing a clue about his life from his earlier comment about the kitchen supply store, Will offered with studied casualness, “I was wondering, if you weren’t busy later, maybe we could take in a game of pool. Grab a few beers, I don’t know. Since I don’t commute into the city anymore, I sometimes find myself at a loss during the evenings…” He trailed off. Jack would accept or refuse. He wouldn’t press him if it was the latter. It would be a sign nothing was ever going to happen between them. He would let it go then and there. He would strike Jack and his brooding blue gray eyes and his powerful forearms and his thickly muscled thighs from his consciousness forever.
“Hey, that might be nice.” Jack smiled. “I’d better warn you though, I wasted a good portion of my youth in pool halls.”
“That’s all right,” Will countered. “I’m not competitive. Not when it comes to pool, anyway.”
Now, why had he done that? Jack usually made it a rule not to get too friendly with people he worked for. It just seemed neater that way. His work life was in one compartment, his personal and social life in another.
Not that he had a social life anymore. The friends Emma and he had had were really her friends and their husbands, he realized in retrospect. He hadn’t particularly minded any of them, but he’d never felt a real connection with any of them either.