Page 3 of How the Other Half Lives

I didn’t really enjoy living quite this close to the downtown area, where the hubbub of the city was busy, loud, and occasionally smelly. It was very much a younger crowd type of area, but I liked that I could walk most anywhere. Even my office was a quick walk. The cold winter air was cleansing, though a bit chilly.

Perhaps it was the company that I enjoyed most.

On nights like tonight where the air was cool, and the city wasn’t too busy and Alex and I could just lazily walk to our destination, I loved it. It was romantic.

He did not quite see it that way.

He had shot me a look of surprise when I laced my fingers into his, but he hadn’t pulled away. He steered clear of anyone walking too close to him.

“I can’t believe you walk like this every day,” he groused.

“I love it,” I said.

“Do you wear shoes like this?” He looked down at the Oxfords which were nice but didn’t seem to be broken in.

“You didn’t buy new shoes for tonight, did you?” The thought was sort of adorable, but very out of character for Alex.

“Hell no,” he said. “I was in my sister’s wedding last year, and instead of renting tuxes, we all bought suits. I guess it has come in handy. Especially if you’re going to drag me to events like this. This is only the second time I’ve worn the shoes.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not dragging you. I asked you if you’d like to go to dinner. You said yes.”

“You didn’t tell me I was going to have to wear a tie,” he said, though he smiled when he said it. “My response might have been different.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” I said and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’ll wear a tie while I feast on you later.”

“I think you already have. I should pay for dinner after that orgasm.”

I laughed. “This is my treat.”

There was a line out the door of the restaurant. Alex’s shoulders stiffened.

“You’re sure we’re going to be able to get in?”

“We have reservations,” I said. “I promise.” I pulled him in the door.

Chef Blake Edmunds had been sinfully talented with his recipes while I’d known him in college. This restaurant, with its focus on Italian fusion dishes, was a testament to that skill. Despite its popularity and large crowd, the air was quiet inside the building. The hushed tones of quiet conversation accompanied the soft clink of silverware. The ma?tre d’, dressed in a deep emerald jacket and charcoal pants, smiled as we approached.

“Hello,” I said to the ma?tre d’.

They smiled at me and Alex. I still had my fingers linked into his, and I couldn’t help but notice how stiff he had become. Note to self: dates in public were not his forte. That was just fine. I wasn’t usually one for crowds either. Maybe I had been back in my twenties when going to the new cool hip place was the thing to do, but now, I was here for my friend, and I wanted Alex to share it with me also.

“We have reservations for Vance Edwards,” I said.

The ma?tre d’ smiled. “Yes, we are expecting you, Mr. Edwards. We have your table ready. You are just on time.”

“Perfect.”

We were led back right away to a semi-private table. Our table sat against the exposed brick wall with lush greenery adorning the shelves. Our location did have a nice view of the rest of the restaurant, and it was secluded from everywhere else.

“It pays to know people,” Alex said as he sat down.

“It really does,” I agreed.

The waiter came around and held a bottle of wine. “This is our Cabernet Sauvignon. It is what Chef Blake recommends with the dish tonight.”

“We don’t order for ourselves?” Alex asked with a raised brow.

I grinned. “Normally we would, but Blake knows what he’s doing. I usually trust whatever he has in store for me. If you’d rather you can pick off the menu.”

“I don’t care what I get as long as it’s good. I could go for a nice steak right about now.”

“The recommendation from Chef Blake is the pappardelle with roasted duck with prorcini mushrooms this evening.”

“Fantastic,” I said.

Alex nodded as well, looking only a little bit overwhelmed.

The waiter poured our wine and left.

“I’m not much of a wine drinker,” Alex said.

“I’ll drink yours.” He seemed kind of stiff and out of place, and I felt for him. A waiter carrying a tray of food walked past us.

“Smells good,” Alex said. “Is this going to be one of those places that has the tiny portions, though?”

I chuckled. “Probably. We can get a second dinner on the way home, or I have leftover pizza from yesterday.”

He shook his head. “You live on pizza. I’m surprised they let you in this type of place.”

“It’s its own food group. Who doesn’t live on pizza?”

“I’d like to know how you stay in shape.”

“Well, I do visit the gym three times a week.”

“I take the stairs,” Alex said, and I laughed.

“Hey, did you catch the game the other night? I wish we could have hung out for it. It was a good one,” I asked. “I watched the highlights. I didn’t dare turn it on while I was working, else I wouldn’t have gotten it done.”

His cheeks turned red. “Yeah, I watched the highlights, too. I might have stayed up reading the book you recommended. I couldn’t put that fucker down.”

I grinned. “It’s a good one. The next one in the series comes out next month. I reserved two copies for us.”

“We can’t just share one copy?” Alex smiled, and the dim light of the restaurant twinkled in his eyes.

“I didn’t want to fight over who got to read it first.”

“Good choice. What did you have to work late for?”

I bit back a groan. That had been a mess. “There was new evidence presented and so we had to prepare and redo some things. I could have had some of the paralegals do it, but when we’re in the thick of things, I don’t really like leaving all the work to them.”

“Still like getting your hands dirty?”

I nodded. I knew he understood. He was the same way in his own work.

Within a few moments, the waiter returned and set the first course of our meal in front of us. Alex seemed to wait for me to jump in, and he mimicked what I did as far as grabbing utensils to eat with. I was just about to open my mouth to ask him about dinner this Sunday so he could meet my parents, when I heard my name called.

“Vance!”

I looked up to find one of the attorneys from a different law firm approaching our table. I stood and shook his hand.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you since the Carpesi case,” I said.

“Yeah, we’ve been busy. I’m actually running different cases these days. Got out of that family law business.”

“No kidding?”

“I went where the money is slightly better.”

“Divorces?” I said, and we both laughed. I smiled at his wife. “Rebecca, you’re looking as stunning as ever.” I kissed her cheek, then gestured to Alex. “This is my boyfriend, Alex. Alex, this is Micah and Rebecca. I went to law school with Micah for a short time, and sometimes I’m lucky enough to beat him in court.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said and shook their hands. After a bit of small talk, they were on their way.

I sat back down, and Alex eyed me curiously, his brow raised in question.

“What?” I said.

“Boyfriend was a bit of stretch, don’t you think?”

“What do mean?” I said, his words not quite registering. But when they did, my stomach dropped.

“You told them I was your boyfriend. You could have just said we were friends or that I was the handyman at your apartment complex.”

I regretted every sip of wine. At the moment, my guts were churning. “Why would I introduce you as just a friend or even include your job title in an introduction anyways?”

Alex shrugged. “It just sounded weird. Boyfriend was a bit far-fetched, though. Don’t you think?” Alex picked up his fork and resumed eating the salad like he hadn’t just gutted me.

My stomach dropped out of my chest, and the small bites that I enjoyed moments ago from my dinner threatened to come back up. Alex and I had been sleeping together for eight weeks. Yeah, we never went on dates, but it was more than just hooking up. We’d never mentioned that we were exclusive. I just… He never mentioned seeing anyone else or going anywhere…

“Now the next time you see them they’re going to ask about me and you’ll have to come up with a breakup story or something.”

Fuck, I was so goddamn stupid. So stupid. Here I was thinking we were heading toward a serious relationship. I was falling for him. Had fallen for him. Hard.

I was going to introduce him to my parents. I had told my parents about him and how serious things were getting.

Sure, I knew he had a few hangups about his job and mine and the differences between them, but I assumed over time we’d get past those. I didn’t care that he was a handyman. Hell, I loved it.

“Excuse me,” I said. I stood and went to the restroom. I splashed a bit of water on my face and resigned myself to the embarrassment that was to come.

Or maybe not.

Alex didn’t need to know that I had told my family about him or that I planned on introducing him to them. He didn’t need to know how far I had fallen.

Clearly, he hadn’t noticed up until now. There was no reason for me to bring it up and embarrass myself further.

He was halfway finished with his meal when I returned. I rushed through mine, keeping our conversation light. All the while I just wanted to run back to my apartment and crawl in a hole.

God, I was so fucking stupid.

I had only myself to blame. Alex never indicated we were anything more than friends who hooked up. It was me who had a silly fantasy playing out in my head.

I paid for dinner and totally skipped out on dessert. I would apologize to Blake later.

Thankfully, he had been too slammed tonight to come out and chat with me, which he had told me was probably going to happen.

“Shall we?” I said after I paid.

“Yeah.”

I didn’t grab for his hand on the walk back, and he hadn’t grabbed for mine. How much of our casual touches was just me reaching out? Had I imagined all of this?

“You all right?” he asked. “Your skin is white as a ghost.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I just feel more tired than I thought. It’s been a long week. It’s cold out.”

“You sure? We can stop somewhere and grab something if you aren’t feeling well. Do you have ginger ale at home?”

I nodded. “I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep.”

When we got back to my apartment complex, I said a quick goodbye, not bothering with a kiss. I couldn’t bear to put my mouth on his right then.

He didn’t say anything about coming up to my apartment, instead he turned toward the parking ramp.

How had I not seen this? How had I not noticed that I was in this way more than he was?

Eventually I would have to confront him, to talk about it and explain about the miscommunication. A stronger man would have done so this evening. But at that moment it was too raw, too new.

When he arrived home, he texted me asking if I was sure I was okay. I replied that I was fine and that I was going to bed.

I didn’t let him know I’d talk later. I most certainly didn’t send him a kissy-face emoji that I usually did.

And he most certainly wasn’t coming to dinner on Sunday.