reminded him of Nick. He and Nick had saved up for their trip for nearly two years. They’d come to celebrate Sam’s passing the bar and Nick’s first gallery show.
Sam stared up at Notre Dame and closed his eyes. He could almost hear the echo of Nick’s voice as Nick reached the top of the tower ahead of him.
“Hey, Sammy, check this out!” Breathless, he gazed out at the city below as Sam finally caught up. “Look at the pattern of the rooftops and the way the sunlight reflects off the tiles.”
Sam put his arm around Nick’s shoulder, taking a quick glance outside before he brought his gaze to rest on Nick’s curly hair and admired the corner of his jaw. The word “beautiful” that escaped his lips had nothing to do with the Parisian skyline.
Sam had been to Europe before with his family, but nothing could compare to seeing Europe through Nick’s eyes. Sam often forgot Nick was two years older; Nick approached the world in an almost childlike manner. Where Sam looked out over Paris and saw only a mass of buildings, Nick appreciated the innate beauty there—colors, textures, sounds, and smells.
At sunset, they cruised the Seine on a bateau mouche, their dinner simple baguette and brie sandwiches with tiny pickles and cheap wine. It was the best dinner Sam had ever eaten. The view from the boat was spectacular. But years later Sam would remember little of the view. It was Nick he had been watching the entire time, the joy on his face far more interesting than the scenery.
Sam opened his eyes. He hadn’t been ready five years ago, when he’d first met Aiden. He could still hear Aiden’s voice on the answering machine. “I just wanted you to know I got that scholarship I told you about. The program starts two weeks from today, and I was thinking that I’d really like to see you… ah… you know, before I leave. If you have a chance, please call me.”
He’d wanted to call Aiden. He’d picked up the phone more times than he could remember. But in the end, he’d put it off. Too little, too late. And now, who could blame the guy for wanting nothing to do with him?
It was noon when Sam headed back to Jules and Jason’s place.
Five years before
“
S
AM?” came the voice of his assistant over the intercom. “Call for you. Line three.”
“Thanks, Yvonne.” Sam set down the document he’d been glued to for the past two hours and picked up the handset. “Sam Ryan.”
“You sound damn sexy when you’re in lawyer mode.”
Sam grinned. “You always sound sexy. It’s that voice.”
“We still on for dinner tonight?” Aiden asked.
“Should be fine. My late meeting got canceled. Meet you at seven at Waraji?”
“Deal. My treat this time.”
“You don’t need to do—”
“Yeah, I do. Besides, I just got paid for my church job.”
“Church job? You?”
“Don’t worry. I’m only singin’,” Aiden shot back with a laugh. “I’m a soloist at a Unitarian church off Seventh Avenue. Pay’s pretty good, and I only work a few hours a week.”
“Guess the Baptists didn’t want you.”
“They did. But the Unitarians pay better.”
Sam laughed right as his computer chimed to remind him of a telephone conference. “Look, Aiden, I gotta run. I’ve got a meeting in five minutes.
“See you at seven, then.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Sam leaned back in his chair and sighed. He and Aiden had been seeing each other for two weeks. After much soul-searching, Sam had decided he was going to ask Aiden over to his apartment in Brooklyn Heights on the weekend. Just for brunch , he told himself. If things worked out, maybe he’d ask Aiden to spend the night.
One step at a time.
“
H
OW did the audition for the agent go today?” Sam asked that evening over a warm cup of sake.
“Good. He says he’s interested in setting up some auditions for me in the spring. He’s going to put me in touch with a colleague in their European division.”
“So how does that work? Are they looking to
Sam stared up at Notre Dame and closed his eyes. He could almost hear the echo of Nick’s voice as Nick reached the top of the tower ahead of him.
“Hey, Sammy, check this out!” Breathless, he gazed out at the city below as Sam finally caught up. “Look at the pattern of the rooftops and the way the sunlight reflects off the tiles.”
Sam put his arm around Nick’s shoulder, taking a quick glance outside before he brought his gaze to rest on Nick’s curly hair and admired the corner of his jaw. The word “beautiful” that escaped his lips had nothing to do with the Parisian skyline.
Sam had been to Europe before with his family, but nothing could compare to seeing Europe through Nick’s eyes. Sam often forgot Nick was two years older; Nick approached the world in an almost childlike manner. Where Sam looked out over Paris and saw only a mass of buildings, Nick appreciated the innate beauty there—colors, textures, sounds, and smells.
At sunset, they cruised the Seine on a bateau mouche, their dinner simple baguette and brie sandwiches with tiny pickles and cheap wine. It was the best dinner Sam had ever eaten. The view from the boat was spectacular. But years later Sam would remember little of the view. It was Nick he had been watching the entire time, the joy on his face far more interesting than the scenery.
Sam opened his eyes. He hadn’t been ready five years ago, when he’d first met Aiden. He could still hear Aiden’s voice on the answering machine. “I just wanted you to know I got that scholarship I told you about. The program starts two weeks from today, and I was thinking that I’d really like to see you… ah… you know, before I leave. If you have a chance, please call me.”
He’d wanted to call Aiden. He’d picked up the phone more times than he could remember. But in the end, he’d put it off. Too little, too late. And now, who could blame the guy for wanting nothing to do with him?
It was noon when Sam headed back to Jules and Jason’s place.
Five years before
“
S
AM?” came the voice of his assistant over the intercom. “Call for you. Line three.”
“Thanks, Yvonne.” Sam set down the document he’d been glued to for the past two hours and picked up the handset. “Sam Ryan.”
“You sound damn sexy when you’re in lawyer mode.”
Sam grinned. “You always sound sexy. It’s that voice.”
“We still on for dinner tonight?” Aiden asked.
“Should be fine. My late meeting got canceled. Meet you at seven at Waraji?”
“Deal. My treat this time.”
“You don’t need to do—”
“Yeah, I do. Besides, I just got paid for my church job.”
“Church job? You?”
“Don’t worry. I’m only singin’,” Aiden shot back with a laugh. “I’m a soloist at a Unitarian church off Seventh Avenue. Pay’s pretty good, and I only work a few hours a week.”
“Guess the Baptists didn’t want you.”
“They did. But the Unitarians pay better.”
Sam laughed right as his computer chimed to remind him of a telephone conference. “Look, Aiden, I gotta run. I’ve got a meeting in five minutes.
“See you at seven, then.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Sam leaned back in his chair and sighed. He and Aiden had been seeing each other for two weeks. After much soul-searching, Sam had decided he was going to ask Aiden over to his apartment in Brooklyn Heights on the weekend. Just for brunch , he told himself. If things worked out, maybe he’d ask Aiden to spend the night.
One step at a time.
“
H
OW did the audition for the agent go today?” Sam asked that evening over a warm cup of sake.
“Good. He says he’s interested in setting up some auditions for me in the spring. He’s going to put me in touch with a colleague in their European division.”
“So how does that work? Are they looking to
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