CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As I wait to get off of the plane, I think back to that night last week, and also of the following morning. I woke up to an empty bed, a slight hangover, and a heavy heart. There was also a note, written by Patrick, whom I think I officially love. It’s been in my wallet for the past week.
We parted ways after he confessed the details of our first meeting and told me more about his dad and family. I’m not a crier—or I thought I wasn’t—but that night left me in tears.
He didn’t leave me that night. He stayed beside me as I sobbed and blubbered, about the past, about my drinking, and about feelings I didn’t know I had and others I didn’t understand. I’m actually sure of it. I do love him.
It’s funny how a few words can do that for you. But they have to be the right words—not the scolding kind that leaves you feeling worse than before you heard them, but the words of a person that genuinely cares.
I’m looking forward to getting off this plane and devouring Patrick as soon as I see him.
The flight back and the entire week have been too long, but it’s given me a lot of time to think. The biggest thing on my mind is whether or not to tell Patrick the way that I feel about him. Rachel and I have been Guano Chatting about it all week.
“Wait,” Rachel said when we talked earlier. “Don’t tell him anything until at least a few days back. You know absence makes the heart grow fonder, and you’ve been away for nearly a week. Plus you’re riding high on your sales.”
I tried to convince her that I’d feel the same either way, but I’ve been working on just shutting up and taking advice. Seems a simple thing but you’d be surprised.
“Definitely don’t do it after welcome back sex,” she’d said. “Don’t do it after sex period. Trust me, it’s a terrible time and the quickest way to scare a guy off.”
We both laughed and agreed it was true. I wondered at the time if this was her way of telling me she’d scared off Matthews, but I avoid bringing him up.
The door to the plane finally opens and we make our exit. I’m sitting in Comfort Class, so I don’t have to wait long. I can feel my heart flutter and butterflies flap about in my gut. I wonder if it’s too much to tell Patrick that he has this effect on me.
We’ve been crossing several barriers all week, sending lots of I-miss-you texts and can’t-wait-to-see-you’s. I’d have been tempted to send more were I not on a work phone.
I make it past customs and to the baggage claim area and wait for my bag. I send a message to Patrick and Rachel, letting them know I’ve arrived.
Rachel replies instantly with a welcome back message and a reminder not to say anything. Another message follows, telling me to enjoy welcome-back sex. Then another sending Kevin’s regards. Ugh.
I don’t get a response from Patrick, but it’s the afternoon and I know he’s got a job. I’m heading to his place from here, so I’ll see him soon enough and indeed enjoy some I-missed-you sex. I grab my suitcase and leave the baggage claim area. A sign catches my attention as I make my way to ground transportation. Someone is holding a sign with D. Rivera written on it.
A tinge of excitement rushes through me at the thought that this may be for me, enough to risk the embarrassment or disappointment if it isn’t. I smile at the idea either way.
I walk over to the man.
“Daniel Rivera?” He asks. “Coming in from Frankfurt?”
“That’s me,” I say with a giant grin.
“Welcome back,” he says. “This way.”
We make our way to the car. In the back there’s a bottle of champagne with a message that says: CONGRATS.
I smile thinking of how thoughtful he is and how we’re going to be drinking this naked. Responsibly, of course.
The driver tells me that he already has the address, so I sit back and enjoy the ride. The enjoyment is short lived, as I realize we’re driving into Manhattan, not Queens.
“Excuse me,” I say, “we’re supposed to be going to Queens. Jackson Heights.”
He checks a clipboard next to him. “I’ve got you for two stops,” he says, “the first is 721 West Broadway.”
My excitement is dashed as I realize we’re headed to the office. “Can you drop me off in Queens instead?” I ask.
“This is on a corporate account, so I’ve got to make the pickups and drop offs as arranged. Second stop is of your choosing, but I’ve got to take you to 721 West Broadway first. I can call in for a change if you like,” he says.
“It’s ok,” I say. I’m half annoyed, half laughing at myself for being played the romantic fool. I send a message to Rachel telling her I’m coming into the office.
She replies that my return sex isn’t there.
As we pull up, I write back letting her know that I am.
“I can circle around or wait for you in the garage across the way,” the driver says.
“Whichever’s easiest for you,” I say as I get out. “Shouldn’t be long.”
I make my way to Mason’s office. I’m sure he’s the reason I’m here.
“Excellent job,” he says as I enter. “Seems you are indeed a better one man team.” He motions for me to sit. “I know you’re tired but I have exciting news. They want you back in Berlin.”
“When?” I ask. “I could have stopped there before coming back.”
“Permanently,” he says. “You’re being promoted.”
I’m not sure how to respond.
I sit and he goes over the plans for my potential relocation. “Think about it,” he says. “Take a week.”
The ride to Queens seems longer than the flight from Frankfurt.
“Can you go any faster?” I ask.
“Not legally,” he says. “Let me guess, in a hurry to see the Mrs.?”
“Something like that.”
“I’ll take a shortcut,” he says.
The shortcut feels even longer, but we’re finally in the neighborhood and drive past Pizza and Bubbles and the Greek diner. The sights make me smile but for some reason add to the greater sense of nervousness I feel.
Too much goes through my head at once. An hour ago I was just ready to see my tatted-up baby. Now there’s the potential of thousands of miles between us? How the hell did that happen?
And what happens if I say no? What happens if I say yes? Would Patrick want to move there? Is it crazy to even consider it?
I think back to his note, which makes me smile. I think of only it, and him. I have a week or so to decide, so for at least the next few hours I’ll pretend promotions and Berlin don’t exist.
We pull up. “This is it,” the driver says, then gets out to help me with my bag. I tip him well and he’s off.
I pull out the note, which had a key taped inside. I reread it: Bring a bag, leave the baggage.
I fight the lock and a growing erection as I try to make my way inside.
Inside the apartment, roses are waiting. Still not much of a flowers person, but very much a guy that appreciates the thought, I smile and smell them, then sneeze. There’s a note telling me he’ll be back later and to unpack.
I see that he’s made some space for me in the closet; I get some rack space and two drawers, though I only need one. I see my shirt and formerly crusty pants already hanging. The shirt buttons have magically reappeared, and the pants are no longer Lewinsky’d.
I unpack the clothes I had cleaned in Frankfurt and make a pile to go to the cleaners. It’ll be a nice change for them not to have to clean anything of mine with puke or body fluids.
I check my phone for messages from Rachel. I didn’t see her in the office and she hasn’t yet replied to my Berlin promotion text. She must not have seen it yet, as I’m sure that will warrant a call.
I decide to take a shower and do some thinking.
Mason didn’t say much about the job, but he didn’t have to. I know the position intimately. I’d be replacing my former boss, who is also being promoted.
The idea of going back isn’t attractive, but the bump in salary is. There’s also the change in function. Rather than beating the pavement and rustling up sales myself I’d be leading the team; something like Mason but minus all the yelling and batshit crazy. But at what cost?
I think about Patrick and get hard and sad at the same time. I wonder if this is the one time to be thinking with my balls rather than my brain. I stand with my head under the shower and let the water wash over me. Maybe it has the answer.
I feel a sudden poke from behind and almost fall. Patrick catches and holds me.
“Sorry,” he says then kisses me. He feels me up then grabs me below. “What are you thinking about?” He asks, grabbing my wet stiffness.
We both nearly fall as I kiss and ravish him in reply.