“Silence. Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation.”
~Benjamin Franklin
“Pick your battles; know when to speak and when to ignore.”
~Julius Shepherd
“Who are you supposed to be again?” I asked Rome as he tied a cape around his neck and reached for a wig. We’d rented a hotel room in Columbus so we could attend his friend’s Halloween party and be in town the next morning to have brunch with his family. I was really looking forward to meeting them.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked with a quirked brow. The wig was dark brown, wavy, and nearly touched Rome’s shoulders when he had it positioned correctly.
I stood back and gave him another once-over. Rome wore black, shiny shoes with large gold buckles, and ivory stockings beneath blue velvet pants that ended at his knees. He paired it with a double-breasted, velvet jacket in the same color of blue and an ivory silk shirt that tied at his throat. He capped off his outfit with a black satin cape.
“I have no idea. I can tell by the outfit it’s the late nineteenth century though.”
Rome slipped his arm around my waist and nuzzled his lips against my neck. “‘I can resist everything except temptation.’”
“I’ve heard that one, but I’m not sure which of the lecherous poets said it.”
“Lecherous poets?” Rome scoffed. “Is that what you think of me when I write you such beautiful words?”
“It loses the wow factor when you send your poems in a text message.”
Rome covered his heart like he was in pain then cleared his throat. “‘Roses are red, violets are blue. I’m naked in your bed, and I’m waiting for you.’ Tell me that didn’t motivate you to wrap up your parent conferences and get home quicker.”
“Lecherous poets,” I pointed out. “You didn’t woo me with words about my eyes or my lips or the way I made you feel. You wanted me to come home and fuck you.”
“That’s romantic,” Rome countered. “And it worked.”
“Hell yes, it did. I still don’t know who you dressed up as.”
“Oscar Wilde,” he said on a disappointed huff. “You’re going to freeze in your costume.”
“We’re not walking a great distance, right?”
“We’re taking a Lyft there and back. That way neither of us need to worry about drinking and driving. We can just relax and have a good time.” Rome raked his hot eyes over the expanse of legs showing between the hem of my too-short shorts and my crew socks with the red stripes around the top. “I’m not sure I’ll like other guys ogling your legs in those shorts.”
“I’m not sure I’ll like them looking at those velvet pants clinging to your ass either.”
“You’re going to be the only man I want in that house,” Rome said, leaning forward to kiss me.
“I only want you too.”
Rome’s smile said he loved hearing the words, but I started wondering lately if he believed them. He still made occasional comments about our age difference in the guise of a joke, usually referencing that a movie, song, or a show was way before my time. He always chuckled, but I couldn’t help but think perhaps he was more bothered by our age difference than I realized. Maybe it was time to bring out the bad teacher again to give another positive reinforcement lesson.
I wanted to address his comments and clear the air, but not before we were due at his friend’s house. I didn’t want to risk creating tension and ruin our night. Instead, I leaned forward and kissed him long and hard, hoping he could feel how much I wanted to be with him. I’d told Rome that I was in love with him, but I needed him to feel it deep down in his marrow.
Rome’s eyes stayed closed a few heartbeats after I pulled back from the kiss. I saw desire and adoration in his gaze when he looked at me once more. “We could just stay here and order room service.”
“And hurt your friend’s feelings? We at least need to make an appearance.”
“Fine,” Rome conceded. “We’re not staying long though.”
Sometimes five minutes is too long in certain circumstances. I knew I was far out of my league when the hired car drove down a long driveway that ran alongside a rectangular reflection pool. I was stunned when the driveway curved, and the Greek revival house came into view.
“Holy crap,” I whispered to myself as I slid from the car.
Rome thanked the Lyft driver then placed his palm at the small of my back and led me up the huge steps toward the front door. The porch had wide marble columns extending up to the roofline of the house. There was a second-story balcony that overlooked the front of the property and would offer spectacular views of the city.
“I forgot how pretentious this house was,” Rome said in reply. It wasn’t a remark I expected him to make considering the people inside were supposed to be his friends. It made me uneasy for the first time that night, and I suspected it wouldn’t be the last. “We won’t be bobbing for apples at this Halloween party.”
I snorted. “I should hope not.”
“Is that another one of those sayings?” Rome asked me, sounding alarmed. “What did I imply?”
“It’s a blow job this time,” I said, “but it’s while one of us sits in a hot tub or pool.”
“Underwater then?” Rome asked inquisitively. “I can see where that one at least makes sense.”
Before I could suggest we try it in private, the door opened wide, and a lady dressed as Marie Antoinette greeted us.
“Rome, darling,” she said, but it sounded like dahling. The woman greeted him with an air kiss then stood back to rake her eyes over him. “You look different.”
He chuckled and said, “I should hope so, Cybil. This is a costume party after all.”
“Don’t be cute,” she said, patting his chest almost possessively. “Then again, you can’t help being cute.”
Rome’s fingers tensed against my lower back then he slid his hand over to hook my waist and pull me into him. “Cybil, this man is the reason I ‘look different.’ Say hello to Julius and please stand aside so we can come in. It’s freezing out here.”
Cybil’s eyes widened as if she hadn’t noticed me standing there while she pawed my guy. Her pale, shrewd eyes raked over me from head to toe. The smile she gave me was cold and calculating. “Charmed to meet you, Julien.” She sounded anything but, and I was certain she deliberately said my name wrong to let me know I was of no importance to her. That’s okay. Rome knew my name very well and cried it out every time I made him come. This little harpy’s opinion meant nothing to me.
“Are you going to let us in or do I need to call the driver back?” Rome asked.
“Don’t be silly, Romeo,” she breathlessly said before stepping aside.
“Who put you in front of the door?” he asked once we stepped inside the expansive, marble and gold foyer. Pretentious was an understatement.
“I was watching for you, of course,” she purred. I just bet she was. She glanced at me once more before an evil smile spread across her face. “You didn’t tell Frank or Heather that you were bringing a date.”
“I didn’t tell them I was bringing my boyfriend because they didn’t ask me to RSVP. They’ve always told me any friend of mine is a friend of theirs.”
“Sure, but they didn’t mean it.” She was the snidest, most hateful person I’d run across in a very long time.
“We’re leaving,” Rome said, firmly gripping my bicep. “I’ll call Frank in the morning and explain to him that his sister insulted my boyfriend before we were two steps inside his home.”
“I’m not insulting your boyfriend,” Cybil said backpedaling. “I’m insulting my brother and his wife’s attempts at matchmaking.” Her eyes roamed over my body again. “No wonder none of their choices did anything for you.”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” Rome demanded.
“Come now, Rome. I’ve seen the guys they’ve tried to fix you up with after Peter died. The one they lured here tonight isn’t any better than the others. Your boyfriend is much younger, more vibrant, and I bet a lot better in—”
“There you are,” said a husky voice from behind Cybil. I couldn’t see what the man looked like with Cybil’s tall wig blocking my line of sight. “Cyb, let my guy in. Rome, I have someone I want you to… Oh,” the bear of a man said when he walked around Cybil and saw me standing in the doorway. “I didn’t know you were bringing a guest.”
“I brought my boyfriend, Julius,” Rome explained.
The man’s friendly smile when he looked at me contrasted with his roguish pirate costume. “Well, I feel really silly for not knowing. I might’ve made an ass out of myself.”
“No more than Cybil already has,” Rome assured him. “Your heart, however, is always in the right place. Your days of worrying about me are over. Frank, I’d like to introduce you to Julius Shepherd.”
“It’s good to meet you, Julius.” Frank’s hand was the size of a baseball mitt and could really hurt a person if he was inclined. His handshake was firm but friendly, and he slapped my shoulder after he dropped my hand. “Welcome to my home. Any friend of Rome’s is a friend of mine.”
Cybil snorted before gracefully walking away. I hoped she was going to seek out the poor schmuck invited to the party as Rome’s potential Mr. Right to tell him the deal was off.
“Please don’t take anything she says to heart. She’s um…she’s a difficult person.”
I turned my gaze away from the cold woman to meet her brother’s warm, brown eyes. “Thank you.”
“I recognize that you came as Arthur Ashe, Julius, but who the hell are you supposed to be, Rome?”
My boyfriend started spouting quotes that were obviously not ringing any bells for Frank. “All of my friends are Neanderthals.”
“Who is here, dear?”
The mountain of a man moved to the side and allowed us to see the newcomer. She was tall, svelte, and dressed like a flapper girl from the roaring twenties. “Oh, it’s Rome. How are you, darling? I’m so glad you made it. I wasn’t sure you’d pick up on the subtle words I used.”
“What’s she going on about?” Frank asked, turning his attention to his wife. “Did you coerce Rome to attend the party?”
“I did no such thing,” she said, frowning at her husband.
“It was the adult version of ‘be there or be square.’ There was something about not taking no for an answer also,” Rome told Frank.
“Hello, I’m Heather,” the stunning woman said, pulling my attention away from their friendly banter. She extended a gloved hand to me and I accepted it.
“I’m Julius,” I said. “It’s lovely to meet you. You have a beautiful home.” It wasn’t my style, but I could still appreciate fine craftsmanship.
“It’ll do,” Heather said casually. “Of course, it’s really hard for you to form an opinion when you’ve only seen the foyer.”
“Well, it’s pretty impressive,” I said, gesturing to the curving, ornate double staircase that led to the second story.
Gripping my elbow with her dainty hand, she tipped her head toward the bustling belly of the house. “Would you like a tour? Your boyfriend has obviously forgotten his manners and was prepared to linger in the foyer the entire night.”
“I’d love a tour,” I replied politely.
She started forward, and I went with her since we were joined at the elbow. “Nice costume, by the way. Frank’s parents met Arthur Ashe a few times. They were big fans of his during his tennis career and later became large donors to his foundations. They host a gala every year to support them. Maybe you’d like to attend?”
“That’s very thoughtful,” I said, noncommittally. Fancy galas and fundraisers weren’t my thing unless I was playing in the orchestra at one. I sucked at inane chatter and small talk. I preferred meaningful conversations and even good-natured debates over discussing the weather or struggling to find the right things to ask strangers. No, galas and fundraisers weren’t my kind of thing, but I’d do it for Rome if he missed this part of the life he left behind. Did he miss it? He rarely talked about his past, and I assumed it was because he wanted to focus on his future with me. Maybe the answer wasn’t as simplistic as I’d thought.
“Do you mind if I take you around and introduce you while I give you a tour of the house?” Heather asked. Her expression was warm and sincere, so I nodded. She glanced over her shoulder and snickered. “I see some things haven’t changed. Rome hasn’t magically become comfortable in this environment.” Her remark quieted some of my unease.
“I don’t mind introductions,” I replied, even though I would’ve preferred to stay in the foyer with Rome. I wanted to watch him interact with his friend more. Frank and Heather were obviously important to him, and I wanted to get to know them. Not only that, I wasn’t eager to run into Cybil again, or anyone like her.
“Don’t worry, they’re not all like Cybil,” she whispered then laughed when she saw my reaction. “You didn’t speak your thoughts out loud. I just know how my sister-in-law is.” Heather released a long-suffering sigh. “I can’t believe she and my Frank share DNA and were raised in the same home. They’re nothing alike. My husband is warm, kind, and generous to a fault. Cybil is, well… You’ve met her.”
“What’s her problem with me?” I asked, feeling like I could trust Heather.
“It’s not really about you, love,” Heather said, patting my forearm with her free hand. “She can’t fathom that anyone she wants, man or woman, won’t return her desire and affection.”
“Really?” I asked.
“She’s quite narcissistic.”
“You don’t say?”
“Yep. The first stop in the grand tour is my kitchen. I will have you know that I can barely boil water, but when I do, I need a state-of-the-art setup.”
“Wow,” I said looking around the immense room. It looked like something I’d seen on HGTV. Chefs and servers moved all over the kitchen like busy bees prepping appetizers for the guests.
“Pretentious as fuck,” Heather said, shocking a snort out of me. “What? It’s true. I’m from a blue-collar family, and even twenty-five years later, Frank’s kind of wealth still makes me queasy.”
“Isn’t it your wealth too?”
“So the law says, but in here”—she patted her chest then tapped her temple—“I’m still the girl living from paycheck to paycheck. It’s created a lot of trouble for us over the years.”
“From outside influences?” I asked.
“And strife between Frank and me. He wanted me to just forget everything I knew and be the wife he needed. I tried, and I still do, but on some days, I just want to put on a pair of leggings, a ratty old sweatshirt from my college days, and curl up in a chair to read. I have board meetings or committee obligations almost every day of the week.”
“I have an idea,” I told her. “One weekend, you should come to Blissville and stay with us. I know the perfect spot for you to curl up and read.”
“Can I wear my leggings and ratty sweatshirt?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“What’s the catch?” Heather asked, narrowing her eyes.
“No catch. You can say I need your help coming up with a school fundraiser to raise money for my Ohio Science Olympiad team.”
“That’s a great idea,” she said excitedly. “I really could help out during my visit so I wouldn’t be lying to my husband.”
“I already have my fundraiser set up for the spring, but we can talk about it to ease any guilt you might feel about sitting and reading undisturbed for hours at a time.”
“You’re a genius, Julius.”
“My mother says so,” I said, bumping my shoulder against hers.
“You’re a man of science then?”
“Among other things,” I replied vaguely. I reserved talking about my music with my inner circle. “I’m definitely passionate about teaching advanced sciences at Blissville High School.”
“You know a thing or two about chemistry then,” she teased.
“Are you referring to my relationship with Rome?” I asked uneasily. Was she indicating that chemistry was lacking between us?
“Honey, it doesn’t take a scientist or require special goggles to see the chemistry arcing between you and Rome. You can’t possibly know how much it means to see him looking so happy.” Heather stopped walking and faced me. “I just want to be certain it’s not the kind of chemistry that burns white hot at first then fizzles out because sustaining that level of heat and intensity for long periods of time is impossible. I want it to be a slow burn that builds up over time, binding you closer every passing year.”
I had the urge to pull back from her and go find Rome. Was it because I was insulted or because Heather had spoken my biggest fear out loud? Most of the time, I ignored the tiny nagging voice that cautioned me that Rome and I had moved too fast. When love was new and the passion was explosive, it was easy to convince yourself the differences between you were no big deal. Love will conquer everything and all that jazz. The truth was, love wasn’t always enough. If differences couldn’t be bridged and compromises found, no amount of passion could sustain a relationship for the long haul. My scientific brain knew compatibility needed to be an equal component to love and chemistry in the relationship equation, while my musician’s soul only knew Rome made my heart sing. Did Rome and I have the perfect trifecta working for us? Prior to seeing this part of his life, I would’ve said yes. After meeting his friends, I had some doubts I couldn’t ignore.
Heather shook her head and snorted derisively. “Look at me getting all emotional.” I returned my gaze to hers and saw tears swimming in her eyes. “You really love him. It’s written all over your face right now.”
“I—”
“Don’t say another word. I had no right to say that to you. I’m acting as supercilious as some of the pompous windbags you’re about to meet.”
“Oh joy,” I said dryly.
“Stick by me, kid. I’ve got your back.”
“Kid?” I arched a brow dramatically so she wouldn’t know her arrow had pierced through my armor.
“I meant that as a term of endearment and not a crack at the age gap between you and Rome.” Heather’s hand slid down my arm until she laced her fingers with mine. “You’ll need thicker skin if you’re going to come out of this party alive.”
I figured she was being dramatic, but she wasn’t. While some of the people she introduced me to were nice or polite, some were downright snide. They didn’t bother to hide their surprise that I was Rome’s boyfriend. Of course, they weren’t bold enough to say what it was about me that stunned them, but it didn’t matter. Their message was clear: I didn’t belong in their world; therefore, I couldn’t possibly belong in Rome’s.
Speaking of my guy, where the hell was he? I’d tried to discreetly search the room while trying to appear engaged in the conversations going on around me but didn’t spot Rome anywhere. Everything was fine with Heather by my side, but the claws came out the moment she was called away for an emergency in the kitchen. Questions changed from polite but indifferent to rude and probing.
“Who are your people?”
“My people?” It took me a second to realize they weren’t referring to my ethnicity. They wanted to know if I came from an affluent family. Then again, had I been as white as Rome, they would’ve naturally assumed my attendance meant I had good social standing in their community. “My mother is a nurse and my father drove a taxi cab.” They didn’t gasp in horror, but it was close. I looked around the room once more, hoping to find Rome but didn’t see him with any of the assholes. I decided I’d had enough separation and politely excused myself from the group to go find him. I was tempted to rescind Heather’s invitation to our—Rome’s—house after she abandoned me to the wolves.
Heather had told me the general direction of Frank’s study during our tour, and I wondered if that was where my man had gotten off to. If not, she’d said there was a bathroom close by, and I could just pop in there to catch my breath and center myself.
As I walked down the corridor, a familiar voice coming through a partially open door stopped me in my tracks. “Ted, you don’t have anything to worry about. I could tell you made a good impression on Rome. He probably went to order a car to send the whelp back to the litter.”
“Don’t be crude, Cybil,” a man said. I didn’t recognize his voice, so I hadn’t met him yet. “Now I guess we know why he’s never shown any interest in the rest of us. He wants younger guys.”
Cybil snorted. “It’s a midlife crisis, my pet. Nothing more. You’ll be in Rome’s bed by Thanksgiving, if not sooner. When you are, I want all the juicy details.”
“Not a chance,” Ted told her.
My stomach pitched and rolled. I continued down the hallway, hoping they didn’t see me walk by. I found the bathroom door further down the hall but was upset to find it was already occupied. I didn’t want to walk toward the study again and risk running into Cybil or overhear more of her poison. I had decided to peek inside the rest of the rooms down the hall to see if any of them had a door that led outside, but the bathroom door suddenly opened.
Rome’s pale blue eyes widened in surprise and his lips curved into a joyous smile. He didn’t look like a man who wanted to get rid of me. “There’s my guy,” he said. “I’ve been—”
I cut him off by pressing my lips to his while walking him back inside the bathroom and shutting us inside.