I'd been talking to Hugo at the "bar" (Mocha Daze) about how B-O-R-E-D I'd been since quitting my job at Royal Catering. Eric seemed pleased as punch that I was home whenever he called or came home from his office for lunch. And so far I'd cleaned every closet, re-papered the kitchen cabinets, put in five million tulip bulbs in the beds in front of the house, paste waxed both our cars, painted the guest bathroom... and still I was bored to D-E-A-T-H.
Hugo was having a wonderful time teasing me this morning, even suggesting I hook up with some lovely, tasteful "foundation" and donate my time. I reached across the counter and throttled him. He giggled and broke away. I went back to looking at the Jobs Wanted in the Times Classifieds.
"What about that group of investors you were after, Andrew?" Hugo asked and that reminded me I should give them all a call today.
I'd been waiting for the legal paperwork to come through for me to start my own catering company. But while I was waiting, I think I had lost interest. Now what? My on-line E-Mail buddy, "Buff Dude" had vanished as of late. I'd sent him seven letters and no response which bugged me, since he said he'd find me a job at this company that was hiring on the west side.
"I don't know, Hugo -- maybe I should fill out an application to work here at Mocha Daze."
From somewhere unseen, Hugo dropped something and I laughed.
Then -- a tap on the shoulder.
I turned around.
A guy in a messenger t-shirt and jeans was standing there. "Do you know where I can find Andrew McKinley?"
I said, "No, I don't. Why?"
"I have a package for him and was told he'd be here... at the bar. Hmmmmm..."
This guy, by the way, was hot. All muscles and tight t-shirt that clung to his chest and flat stomach... I couldn't help but flirt a little and asked him if he wanted a cup of coffee... or something, nudge nudge...
He declined. I noticed the "package" which was actually just a large manila envelope.
I confessed.
"I'm Andrew McKinley."
He didn't appreciate being jerked around, I could tell as he handed me the clipboard to sign. He left the store and I (and every other homosexual in the joint!) watched him go... wow! He really knew how to leave a room.
Nudge, Nudge....
I ripped open the manila envelope without much thought and pulled out a smaller envelope, pink. Simple.
I stopped. I realized who it might be from...
Him...
Rudy Marinaro....
I took a deep breath and opened the letter. All I can remember was...
"Dear Lover..."
I passed out.
