Page 8 of Numbers Boy (Working Boys #2)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Steve

THE NEXT FEW weeks fly by, full of work and rehearsals, Stacy snuggles, and costume prep.

All of a sudden, the time to practice is over, and I’m backstage getting myself ready to perform.

Well, I say backstage, but it’s really just a storage room next to the bathrooms at the restaurant where this drag brunch is being held.

As excited as I am to get back on stage, I wanted as low-key of a first time as possible to get my heels back under me, so I found a super-small event with only a few other performers.

The other queens have been great as we all arrived and started making our transformations.

One even let me use some of her sports tape when she saw I was going to be using little bandages to help protect my feet from my shoes.

Butterflies flap around my stomach, both from excitement and nerves as I prepare to bring Eve back to life for the first time in over a year.

Yes, I’ve been rehearsing and getting her ready, spending hours creating her outfits and getting back in the habit of doing her face.

But this is the first time she’s going to be out in the world and people other than me, Henry, and Stacy are going to be able to enjoy her.

I’ve been careful to make sure all of her clothes and wigs and things are put away whenever I know Noah is going to be around.

I’m not quite sure why though. It’s not like he’s going to be snooping around the apartment, and even if he was, there’s no reason for me to hide that part of me.

I might bring it up at book club after I’m done with my performance.

If anyone can get me the free therapy that I should probably look into getting for real, it’s the Working Boys.

But that’s a problem for later. Right now, the only problem I’m concerned about is the fact that there’s a goddamn run in my brand-new tights.

“Fuck a duck,” I mutter and throw them back in my neon green duffle bag.

The first time I hauled this bag out of storage, all I could think about was how much Adam hated it.

According to him, the color was far too bright, and I shouldn’t have wanted to draw more attention to the fact that I was dressing as a woman.

Once the initial flush of shame passed, I couldn’t believe I ever let someone so blatantly misogynistic tell me what I could or couldn’t like.

As for the tights, I should honestly just throw them away, but again, that’s a problem for later Steve because Eve doesn’t have the time right now.

I rifle around all of my stuff, hoping that past Steve has done me a solid, and triumphantly pull out my spare set that I’ve had stashed in a random side pocket forever.

Once I pull those on, I finish transforming myself into Eve in the storage room.

I already spent hours putting on my face, so now it’s just finishing my costume and carefully adding my wig.

After that, I wait in the wings of the temporary stage set up for today’s event.

The setup isn’t very fancy, but it’s perfect for today.

I let the excitement build as I watch Helen Wheels finish up her song.

She’s the queen who I reached out to about performing today, having seen her name on a poster and remembered her from back in college.

She’s also the one who helped me out with the tape, saying she’s rehabbed far too many blisters to let a baby queen suffer.

Her kindness, and the fact that she’s doing all of her moves on roller skates, leaves me a little bit in awe of her.

Even if I didn’t already know that she’s a regular here, the loud whoops and calls by name from various people as she wraps up and thanks the crowd would be a clear sign.

Then she slips by me with a wink and a quick “You got this, baby girl.”

All I’m doing is a simple lip-sync routine, but I can feel my heart pounding as I look out at the crowd of brunch-goers.

I have missed this feeling so damn much.

I feel ten feet tall in my heeled boots, and my hair in a high pony just adds to that illusion.

I can’t believe I let Adam take this from me and make me feel so small.

I set my shoulders back, shoving him out of my mind as the emcee announces my name, and sink into the feeling of power rolling over me and filling me with confidence and fire.

My song goes off without a hitch, and I send a wink toward the table full of the Working Boys, each and every one of them watching and smiling as Eve owns the stage.

By the time the last note fades, I’m almost in tears with how right this feels.

I may be a nerdy numbers boy on paper, but I am also a kick-ass queen who knows her worth.

And I’m working hard to make sure no one will ever make me doubt that again.

After stripping off my dress and carefully setting my wig off to the side, I pull on sweats and wash off my face as efficiently as I can, then hurry out to join my friends at their table.

When I get there, I’m swamped in a giant hug from Henry, and then Stu pulls me down next to him and squeezes my forearm.

“Eve was amazing,” he says as he hands me a glass of water. “It’s like you never even took a break from being her.”

“Thanks, man.” I gratefully accept the glass and gulp it down as the others all talk about their favorite parts of Eve’s number. I can feel my cheeks start to hurt from smiling so much, but I savor this feeling of love and acceptance, just like I did with the feeling of power I had as Eve.

While we chat, I grab bits and pieces of food from the platters laid out family-style on the table. There’s plenty of typical breakfast food, but there’s also appetizer samplers. I see a plate of chicken strips on the other side of Stu and nudge him with my elbow.

“Dude, strip me.”

“Babe, we’re in public,” Stu teases, turning a mock-outraged look my way.

“I meant give me the chicken strips, you ass,” I laugh while pointing to what I want.

“Ohh,” he says, exaggerating the word as he piles a few strips in front of me. “Silly me.”

We grin at each other and then both lean back as we tune in to the various conversations going on around us.

Henry and Mark are discussing what questions we should talk about first when we finally get around to the book club portion of brunch.

Chad, Leighton, and Greg are talking about how Greg’s brother, Ethan, has been doing with his college hockey team.

Andrew is sitting back and taking it all in, like Stu and I are.

Only he’s probably a little bit more overwhelmed than we are.

We both soak up the commotion, having witnessed it a lot longer.

Sometimes I can’t believe we lucked into this group and that we’ve only gotten stronger since that first semester in college.

When there’s a lull, I take my opening to ask about why I’m so worried about Noah finding out about Eve, knowing they’ll all be willing to help me work through it.

“I actually have a question for you all.”

“What’s up?” Greg asks from the other end of the table, Andrew sitting next to him.

“How inappropriate would it be for me to ask my dog walker out on a date?”

Okay, that’s not quite the question I had in mind, but I guess that’s where we’re going first.

Henry’s eyes light up, and I’m pretty sure I just activated his meddling function.

“I knew there was something going on there! Your voice when you mentioned him before got all dreamy,” he crows and pours more champagne in his glass, apparently giving up on the illusion of mimosas as the orange juice sits untouched by his elbow. “Now, tell us more.”

“And is there anything in his company policies about him dating a client?” Andrew chimes in, making us all swivel to look at him.

I’m glad he’s being a little more pragmatic about it.

Most of the rest of us probably would have followed Henry’s lead and focused on the happy side, not the realistic one.

I should have figured the man who is known for his work ethic and business sense would be a big help, especially since he and Greg are coworkers in a serious relationship.

“For instance, Greg and I just had to make sure we disclosed our relationship, and I can’t be directly overseeing anything that he is assigned to. ”

I think about it for a second as I take another sip of water. “Well, I’m not sure if there is a policy about it since it’s just him and his best friend who run the business.”

“Then you could test the waters, flirt a little, and if anything starts to get more serious, make sure both of them are okay with it,” Greg suggests, and there are a lot of nods and sounds of agreement around the table.

“Alright, boring, practical stuff is out of the way,” Henry cuts in from beside me, but as he reaches for another sausage link, I catch him winking at Andrew so he knows he’s teasing.

“Now, tell me more before I have to ask again. Because I’m warning you now, if it comes to that, I’m doing it ‘Summer Nights’ style, complete with dancing. ”

I burst into laughter and am a little bit tempted to see just how far he would take his threat. Knowing Henry, it would be the whole song, and Stu would probably duet with him just to mess with me, with Henry doing a very convincing Pink Lady impression.