Page 81 of Something Like Hail

“Good. Harold is turninginto quite the little gym bunny. He claims that too many late-nightorgies have made him chubby.”

“Orgies don’t make peoplefat.”

“They do when they’re withMary Jane and her friends Ben & Jerry. His joke, not mine. Iadore how silly he can be.”

Noah did too, or once had. He tried not tothink of a model village without a train, or a body that had beenperfect enough without visits to the gym. He failed to avoid thesemental images, memories of touch and scent chasing along afterthem.

“He always asks afteryou.”

Noah speared a tomato with his fork. “Areyou trying to fix me up with the waiter or with Harold? Make upyour mind.”

“I’d be fine with either,”Marcello replied.

“Why?”

“Because it’s painfullyobvious that something is missing from your life, and I’ve alwaysbelieved in starting with the simplest of solutions.”

“You’re one to talk! Iflove is the answer, then where’s your boyfriend, huh? I see guyscome and go, but none of them last. If love makes people happy,then why didn’t you get married years ago?” His anger ebbedsomewhat, making room for regret. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have saidthat. I’ve been a little on edge lately.”

Marcello seemed unfazed. He nibbled a couplemore pinches of biscuit, then took a sip of his spiked soda. “Wouldyou like to know what makes me happy? This. Conversing with otherpeople. Spending time with them and seeing little glimpses of theirlives. I also enjoy being the best in my industry, savoring eventhe smallest victory over the competition. I like to explore mymind, whether through alcohol, drugs, art, or simply a compellingbook. And at times, I choose to invite others into my life for moreintimate experiences, but I learned ages ago that long-termrelationships don’t make me happy. I daresay many people share thatsentiment, even if they are too scared to admit the truth. Asuccessful life isn’t about how much money is earned, or howchastely a marriage is conducted. Discovering what makes youhappy—that is key! I pride myself on being able to assess whatbrings people joy, and if you’ll excuse me for saying so, you weremost at peace when Harold was still part of your life.”

Noah clenched his jaw. “He was barely in mylife. We weren’t even together!”

“That may be, but I don’tbelieve Harold is the only person capable of making your heartsing. Some in this world are most fulfilled by love, and if I’mcorrect, you are one of them. In that case I recommend frequentpractice, because relationships are a complicated enterprise,especially as they go on. If you start honing your craft now,there’s a greater chance you’ll eventually findsuccess.”

What he really needed was a change of topic.“I thought we were here to talk about work? I still think mydatabase is a good idea. The more prepared we are, the happierclients will be. If each escort knows what he’s getting intobeforehand—”

Marcello’s jowls shook. “They aren’t hiringactors. The members of the Gentlemen’s Agreement Club are seekinglegitimate experiences, albeit on terms they are comfortable with.Any relationship begins with a gradual dance of getting to know theother person. Robbing them of that natural progression seemscallous to me.”

“I’m trying to spare theirfeelings,” Noah shot back. “You haven’t been there in the morningwhen Chester is overcome with guilt, and maybe you haven’t heardGeorge talk about the time someone told him he was disgusting justbecause he’s into—” He glanced warily at the nearest table.“Pineapple juice. Maybe I went a little overboard in the mockupdatabase I gave you. We don’t need every detail of their lives.Just enough to make sure they don’t have any badexperiences.”

Marcello considered him. “I’m very pleasedthat you forced your way into my office last year.”

“You are?”

“Indeed. You have a goodheart, and perhaps I was too quick to dismiss your idea. It mayhave merit.”

Felix returned with their two mysterydishes. He set Noah’s down first. Fried catfish. One of hisfavorites. He looked up to see that Marcello’s plate held an entirelobster. The kid really did have good instincts.

“Let me know if there’sanything else I can get you,” Felix said. He looked at each ofthem, but his attention lingered longest on Noah.

“Your phone number would behelpful,” Marcello said. “That way we can call if any urgent needsprings to mind.”

Felix took this as humor, laughing before hespun away to visit a nearby table. Noah forced himself to look awayand focus on the food instead. Much to his relief, the rest of themeal was less about his personal life, or cute waiters with bigears, and instead focused on his database idea and how they couldtweak it to maintain surprise while also avoiding pitfalls. By theend of the meal, he felt certain that his boss was pleased withhim.

“I’ve got this,” Noah saidwhen it came time to pay, slipping the waiter his credit cardbefore Marcello could protest. He felt good that money was nolonger an issue—or at least only as much of a limited resource asit was for most people. He also paid because he worried Marcellomight try stuffing a fifty-dollar bill down poor Felix’s pants.With that in mind, Noah left the waiter a ridiculous tip forputting up with so much.

“Save the receipt,”Marcello said as he rose. “Business expense. The company willreimburse you.”

“I want to pay. It’s mytreat.”

“Then save it as a taxdeduction.”

Noah grabbed the customer copy of thereceipt and noticed scrawled handwriting.

I hope you enjoyed yourlunch!Next to this was a crude drawing ofa cat with a fish in its mouth. Cat plus fish. Catfish. Felix hadwritten his name below, along with seven digits. His phonenumber.

“Anything of interest?”Marcello inquired.