26
CHRIS
When they first arrived at the party, Chris and Tom settled in a corner with a large crowd of their friends. They surrounded a round table draped in white cotton linen and bearing the widest possible variation of party beverages.
Colin and Greg showed photos of the actual secret wedding to everyone. They'd attended the romantic event in Scotland with Tom. Connor and Lee were married on Valentine's Day—how romantic—much to Chris's dismay. He couldn't be one of the select few to attend because he had been booked up for a promotional work tour in the Far East in February. He investigated the possibility of flying to Scotland for a day, but it just hadn’t been feasible for his schedule.
"Spotted, a man who’s just your type over there," Chris said. Having met Tom's boyfriend numerous times, Chris was the first to spot Ben arriving with a crowd of his friends. It would never take long to pick Ben out of a crowd; built like a basketball player, he towered above everybody.
"I'll bring you back a scaffolder," Tom whispered in Chris's ear just before he headed off in Ben's direction.
Unable to sit still because of the pent-up nervous energy and the forthcoming exhibition constantly on his mind, Chris circulated. He had no trouble talking to strangers and could work his way around any party with ease. It was the best thing he could do, shove thoughts of art-show logistics to the back of his mind with distraction. That was probably what Tom thought too, with the suggestion of finding him a man for the night.
"I hear the catering here is supposed to be fabulous," or "I've not been to this venue before," were a couple of reliable phrases he could fall back on when speaking to anyone.
After a lady replied, "They do a terrific Sunday lunch," Chris and the lady stared at each other with nothing more to say.
"I'm sorry, please excuse me. My friend needs me." Pointing at Tom, who gave a little wave, Chris hoped he'd adequately excused himself with grace and wasn't going to ruin it by mouthing a thank you to Tom when he didn't know who else might see.
"Good to see you, Ben. I don't have to make an effort to talk to you," he whispered to Tom and Ben as he took Ben's hand. "Which I didn't mean in quite the way I said it. I think I'm all out of polite; I've peaked too soon."
Ben laughed. "No worries. I took it as a compliment, Chris. Not an insult."
And out of nowhere another stranger was standing beside them. Chris had to be careful; it would be too easy to be overheard saying the wrong thing at this party.
Ben's face lit up with recognition. "Rick. This is my boyfriend, Tom. And another friend of ours, Chris."
Rugged Rick had a mature, weathered face. He looked as if he'd seen the world and had stories to tell. He was older than Chris, but only by a few years. He'd guess Rick was somewhere in his thirties.
"Hello, Tom, I'm pleased to meet you finally. I've heard an awful lot about you. Of course, everybody is talking about you. You know these construction workers are such gossips." A voice as sweet and rich and as dark fruit cake rumbled from Rugged Rick’s full lips.
Tom nodded. "You're not wrong." And thoughtfully, he stepped aside to ensure Chris was within the circle of conversation.
Of all the men Chris had managed to speak to so far, Rick ticked the most boxes. Not that Chris was looking, and he deliberately avoided making eye contact with Tom.
Tom would know.
Chris held out a hand. "From that comment, I take it you're not in construction? What do you do, Rick?"
A tingle went down Chris's spine as their eyes locked together.
Rick took Chris's hand and smiled. "I drive a van," Rick replied, without releasing his grip on Chris's hand.
At the same time, something else passed between them, unspoken. Instinctively, Chris suspected mutual attraction. If this were that phone app, one word would be sent between them.
"I'm charmed to meet you, I'm sure," said Chris.
Ben groaned and slapped Rick on the shoulder. "He's being modest, Chris. Rick is a household removal logistics expert. Is that what you'd call it?"
Rick shrugged with a helpless puppy dog expression on his face. "I call it a van driver."
"He has a fleet of vans, trucks, lorries," Ben protested. "And a team of employees."
Already interested in Rick, news about his haulage business suggested the man could hold the answer to a question of Chris’s. "Now that’s very interesting, Rick. You might be the very man I'm looking for. I need a van man, with skilful, gentle hands and the right equipment to handle my delicate items."
"That's what I do." His broad smile sat well under the come-to-bed hazel eyes. "What sort of thing is it? Don't tell me it's a piano."
"What's wrong with pianos?" Tom butted in.
"Pianos are a bugger to move." Rick sighed, turning to address Tom and shaking his head. "No matter how careful you are, they're never the same when they get to the destination. Do you play one?"
Raising his hands, Tom's fingers worked an imaginary keyboard. "Very badly."
Ben took hold of Tom's hands as if to stop the awful but silent piano playing, and he didn't let go. They were so sappy it could almost be nauseating.
However, Chris wanted to focus on Rick before he drifted away in search of more interesting conversation. "Van-Man-Rick, this might not be the right time to talk shop, but I have needs."
"And not just for delicate stuff made of glass to be moved up to London," Tom added, helpfully.
"Tom! How much did you drink before I got here?" Ben looked aghast.
Fortunately, Rick laughed along with Tom.
"I've used various contractors to move my creations in the past. I’m always prepared for the worst: that I might have to repair and reassemble."
"What sort of thing is it you’re moving?"
"Hard to describe. Artworks made mostly of glass."
"Blown?"
Tom coughed, and Chris barely stopped himself from blurting out some suggestive comment. Act like a grown up, Christopher Cooper.
Rick must’ve been on their wavelength as his cheeks seemed to flush as little and he raised his drink to his mouth, as if trying to hide the blush rather than quench his thirst.
"Not blown glass, no. Sheets of glass. Some have things attached to them. The easiest thing to compare is moving mirrors. Would you like to come over and see what I've got to shift and give me a quotation?"
"This is time for me to get out my business cards."
"Oh, yes." Ben’s face broke into a broad smile.
Rick pulled out a card holder and began rifling through it. "Here you go."
Chris examined the card. Along with a telephone number, it said “Rick’s Removals: Let me take your load.”
"How could I not take advantage of this very pleasant written opportunity?"
"That card was specifically for you, Chris."
"Whatever he’s given you, he’s got worse," Ben said.
"I’ve one that just says, let me take you."
Tugging at Ben’s arm, Tom said, "Let’s leave them to talk business." And the lovebirds slipped away into the crowd, leaving Chris and Rick to talk.
"Would you need us to pack it too? Because that's something we do. We’re able to offer better insurance against damage if we've done the packaging."