Chapter Two
The days had gone by quickly and Dave had become more nervous by the minute. He had planned to leave two hours early so that he could rest a little before having to get ready for the next day.
Just in case he was actually hired, he'd taken some extra time off so that he could look for an apartment. He had a hotel room reserved once he reached his destination. The hotel was a little further away than he would have liked it to be, but the hotels in the heart of the city were more expensive than he was comfortable with, even though he was only going to spend a couple of days there.
He'd been hugged so hard and so often by everyone who had come to see him off that he nearly didn't leave. It wasn't until Cam hugged him and smiled that Dave felt he was doing the right thing once more. He got into his car, honked the horn, and drove off, waving and glancing at his rearview mirror until his family and friends were out of sight, the GPS that George had installed in his old Concord, calmly giving him directions.
Traffic at that hour was abominable, so it took Dave over an hour to make the normally fifteen-minute trip. With a sigh of relief, he finally arrived at his hotel and checked in, toted his luggage into his room and promptly flopped down on the bed, grateful that his drive was finally over. The stress of the upcoming job interview and the thought of having to find a place to live that wasn't with or near his family had taken more out of him than he'd realized. Before he knew it he'd fallen asleep and dreamed of home.
He woke a few hours later, his stomach rumbling. Due to nerves, he hadn't eaten before he'd left that morning and it had finally caught up to him. He took a quick shower and put on some fresh clothes before heading out to find a place to eat that wasn't a fast food restaurant.
Eventually, he found what he was looking for. It had once been an old bank that had been renovated into a restaurant. He smiled when he went inside. It looked like a piece of old Italy had been time warped into this modern city. He hadn't even been standing there for a minute, admiring the old world charm of the place, before the hostess approached him with a smile and led him to a table.
He wasn't surprised or offended when the waiter asked to see his ID when he ordered a glass of wine. He figured since he wasn't a big fan of wine that there would be little chance of him drinking much.
After his beverage arrived he sat quietly observing the clientele who were chatting and laughing over their dinners with their companions. He took his sketch pad out of his bag and began to draw while he waited for his dinner. He wasn't aware that he was the object of scrutiny until someone came up behind him and said in a tone of admiration, "That's really good."
He jumped slightly, blushed and closed the book. He tended to lose track of what was going on around him when he drew and was embarrassed to have been seen. He stuffed the sketch pad back into his satchel.
"I'm sorry," the waiter said as he put Dave's meal down on the table. "I didn't mean to startle you. Are you an art major at the college?"
"I majored in business, with graphic design as my minor," Dave explained with a smile. "Thank you." he continued, holding back the desire to tell the man, 'That will be all.'
"Well, you're really good." the waiter said again, also beginning to blush a little, afraid he'd stepped over some kind of line. "I'll leave you to your meal, sir." He gave a little nod and went to go serve more customers.
Dave felt a little guilty about the way he'd treated the man but he'd been embarrassed to be caught like that. He'd always gotten excellent grades in the majority of his art courses, but the extremely negative comments of two of his instructors had cut him like a knife, and he'd doubted his ability ever since. He knew that he should let it go, but their words still rang in his ears whenever he felt he'd made a mistake, and since then he'd been reluctant to show his work to anyone unless it was finished and hopefully, perfect.
He finished his meal and paid, leaving the waiter an ample tip by way of apology, and went back to his hotel room. He slid into bed and tried to sleep, but he couldn't help worrying about the next day when he'd see his, possibly, soon to be employers. He worried about his first impression. Even though he'd gotten a nice suit and new shoes, he was self-conscious about his weight and worried that they would turn him down based on that alone. He'd looked for other retail jobs in the past and had been rejected. One place had even come right out and told him that employees were expected to wear the store's clothing and that they didn't carry his size.
What if this store was the same way? he worried. He'd have hated to have made the drive for nothing, only to be rejected, once again, because of his weight. He'd tried many times in the past to diet, to the point where he'd been starving himself and had still been accused of overeating when he hadn't lost any of the extra pounds he carried.
He'd lain down to sleep but his worries made that impossible, so he got up and turned on the television. The first thing he saw was an ad for LJ Moore's. The employees were all beautiful and slender, the store was obviously upscale and catered mainly to the ivy league college crowd, although there were shots of middle-aged and elderly couples, smiling as they made their purchases and left.
His stomach knotted again. He debated packing up and leaving but he knew Cam and Lissie would be disappointed if he hadn't even tried, so he turned off the TV and laid down once again, closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. He opened his eyes and sighed. He really wanted a drink. And a cigarette.
He finally got up and dressed and then went out into the brightly lit courtyard of the hotel. He asked the attendant in the office about the area and then getting the information he needed he decided to take a walk to clear his head and perhaps tire himself out enough to actually sleep.
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As he walked he thought about what he was leaving and what he was heading toward. He'd just gone through a difficult break-up and was glad, in a way, that he would no longer be in the same city as his most recent ex.
Another break-up. Another guy not willing to wait. So far he was 0 for 5. He was glad that he hadn't gone beyond kissing and some seriously heavy petting, though even the thought of that made him blush now.
He hadn't really wanted to go that far. They'd been together two months before he'd allowed hands below the belt, at which point Franz was getting angry, so he'd gone along with it. Franz had seemed content with that. Until a couple of weeks ago.
Dave hadn't thought he could ever be attracted to an older man, but there had been something about Franz... his self-assurance, or perhaps it was the way he carried himself, shoulders back and head up.
Maybe it had been his cologne, subtle and spicy. Or his hands... large, slightly rough and calloused from his construction job. Yes. His hands had been a definite selling point. He'd loved the feeling of those medium-grain sandpaper hands on his face, on his body.
But Franz wasn't looking for anything permanent. He simply liked younger men. He liked what younger men liked. He'd found Dave cute despite the extra poundage and he'd been enjoying the challenge that the young man posed. At first. But after nearly eight months, Dave's 'games' were getting old, and he had given the boy an ultimatum.
He'd spit at Dave's feet when the boy said no. Franz had handed him his jacket, shown him to the door and slammed it behind him. Dave had calmly walked down the stairs and out into the night. Unsure of what to do with himself at that point, he'd gone for a walk.
Now, once again, he was alone, walking at night in a strange city, wondering what the future would bring, and trying to fight back that knot of fear and anxiety that always seemed to form whenever he was unsure about things.
Seeing a corner store not too far away, he'd picked up a quart of cream and a pack of cigarettes. He just made it to the package store before they closed, and bought bottles of Kaluah, Baily's Irish Cream, and vodka and then went to a nearby park that the guy at the liquor store had told him about. He dumped a little more than a quarter of the cream into the icy lake, then poured in a combination of the alcohol, shook it up to mix it and sat on a wooden bench to drink and smoke, mostly unaware of the fine mist creeping in around him.
He looked up at the stars and found himself envying the moon. The moon had all of those stars, and yet he still had no one. All the people on the face of the earth and there didn't seem to be one for him. He laughed at the idea, blaming the very strong drink for his feelings.
Unfortunately, Dave had to admit, he was a romantic, and he was sure that even though he hadn't had any luck so far, there had to be someone out there for him. He looked back up at the stars and found the Orion constellation.
Orion. There was a song by that name that he loved, 'Nice name', he thought. 'When I find my man, what will his name be? Where is he now, I wonder. What is he doing? What is he thinking right now?' He grinned slightly and wondered, 'Is he thinking about me? Does he wonder about me?'
He drew his feet up onto the bench, wrapped his arms around himself and leaned back against the cold, hard, wood, still managing to somehow feel warm despite the cold. He imagined being wrapped in warm comforting arms.
The night breezes brushed his hair, kissed his cheeks, tender as a lover. He closed his eyes and imagined the man, his man, and wondered what it would be like to be caressed, held, and made to feel protected just by his presence.
Instead, he was alone in the early evening darkness, in a new city, in a deserted park in the cold.
He sat in the silence, feeling the loss. "Where are you?" Dave inquired softly. "I've looked... I have. Have you been looking for me? Do you think about me?"
He took another swig of his drink and lit another cigarette. The heavy drink helped wash the tobacco taste away.
He looked back up at the moon, big, fat and full, at the face that always seemed to smile from it. That's me. He thought bitterly. The happy fat man. Damn Santa Claus for giving everyone the idea that fat men were always jolly!
"Santa's not always jolly!" Dave called to the moon, "It's all that rum in the eggnog does it! Don't let anyone tell you differently!" He laughed again and then put his face in his hands as he felt the pressure behind his eyes that threatened tears.
There was no one around to see but he still thought of crying as shameful and would leave it's mark on his face if he allowed it to escape. He stopped thinking then. Had to stop thinking. Had to push all of those thoughts and feelings back down and lock them back up.
He'd always been taught that crying was a weakness. He'd been taught so well that at times he felt he'd even forgotten how to do it. He swallowed the last of the drink, crushed his last cigarette and headed back to the hotel.
Rather than turning on the lights, he used the soft street lighting to find his way to his bed. He sat down and looked out the window, still feeling as though he wanted to cry but being unable to. "Will I be able to share this with you? Will you laugh at me? Will you understand? Will you comfort me? Will you love me?" He softly asked the stars.
He sighed and undressed down to his shorts and laid on his bed with his arms behind his head. He had to get some sleep and prayed he wouldn't wake up with a hangover. He still had that job interview in the afternoon.
He wondered what the store would be like. He'd never worked in a place like it before. Would he like the job, he wondered. Would he like the people? Would they like him?
Yes. Tomorrow he would put on his happy face and act as though everything was fine, just as he'd done today, and yesterday and every day before that. Dave put his wonderings aside and drifted off to sleep.
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In the morning he woke and was startled by the image in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circles beneath them. He looked like he'd been up partying all night. Fighting down the knots in his stomach again, he took a hot shower and shaved what little scruff he had.
He looked in the mirror again and was relieved to see that he didn't look quite as bad as the first time. He glanced at his watch and saw that he still had a few hours before his appointment so he put on jeans and tee shirt and went out for breakfast, finding a place that sold some of the best waffles he'd ever had, and a cup of coffee that tasted as though it had been freshly ground and roasted just minutes before.
Feeling much better he headed back toward his hotel room, read for a while, and then an hour before he was supposed to be there he changed into his suit and put his new GPS to the test as he found his way to the store.
He parked a block away so that no one would see his ancient car and walked the rest of the way. He stopped in front of the building and admired the facade. It had two regular in and out doors beside a revolving door.
Everything was fitted with burnished brass and the revolving doors had windows which displayed artistically arranged flowers. The storefront itself was uncluttered with window displays and gave a perfect view inside where comfortable chairs and burnished wood tables were set up for customers. A couple was inside, sipping coffee from real mugs, chatting while they waited. A woman who looked to be in her late twenties approached them with a smile and the couple followed her into the next room.
Dave resisted the impulse to run again, took a deep breath and checked his watch. He was still early, maybe a little too much so. He didn't want to seem overeager so he strolled along the sidewalk, looking into other storefronts as he went, comparing them to L.G. Moore's and finding them not nearly as attractive. Some of them were overwhelming with clashing colors and styles, and mannequins that didn't match.
He glanced at his watch again and seeing that it was a half hour until his appointment, he decided to go in and wait. All of the paperwork had been filled out and mailed back more than a week ago so that was out of the way, which was a relief for him because he could feel his hands trembling slightly.
He leaned against a wall and had a quick smoke. He didn't power it down, he didn't want to be dizzy or sick when he finally went in, just enough to calm himself.
Taking a towelette from the pack in his pocket he cleaned his hands and face and wiped sweat from his forehead hoping to God that his palms wouldn't be sweaty if he was asked to shake hands. Cam had told him, sweaty palms or not, to shake hands like he meant it. A lot of prospective employers based their decisions on that one thing alone, regardless of how well-spoken or well dressed an interviewee was. He took a deep breath, wiped his hands on his pants legs and entered the store. It was even more attractive inside than it was from the street.
The pretty young woman he's seen earlier smiled and approached him. "Good afternoon, sir. My name is Meg. How can I help you today?"
"My name is David Ferraro. I'm here for an interview. I think Mr. Lawrence is expecting me." he replied, pleased that he'd kept the tremor from his voice. Then he smiled and the woman's demeanor changed from professional to something more personal. Her smile became more natural and her features softened. "I'm so glad you came early! Seth isn't available right now but Mr. Moore is and he asked me to tell him as soon as you arrived. Give me just a sec." she continued happily.
She contacted the store owner and within minutes, the elderly gentleman came to meet Dave in person. He approached with a genuine smile and held out his hand to be shaken. Without thinking, Dave took the man's hand and smiled back. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."
"The pleasure is all mine, young man!" Mr. Moore said heartily shaking Dave's hand before letting go. "Please, come with to my office and we'll get to know each other. And please, call me Liam, we're very informal here."
"Thank you, Liam," Dave said, trying the name out and wondering if the other man was going to go back to insisting that he address him more formally. The man looked toward Dave and grinned before gesturing him into a neat and very masculine office.
"Have a seat, David, please," Liam said, pointing to a comfortable chair in front of his desk. "Do you prefer David or..." he let the question trail off.
"Dave is fine, sir... I mean, Liam. Thank you." Dave said as he sat down. He was suddenly nervous again and shifted in his seat slightly. He wanted to cross his legs but Cam had told him that body language was very important and crossed arms and legs could be interpreted as rejection or indifference, so he planted his feet firmly on the floor and sat upright with his hands loosely clasped.
He asked Dave about himself and then began to ask him typical interview questions, nodding and raising his eyebrows at some of Dave's answers as he took notes. Halfway through there was a polite knock on the door and Liam raised his head and smiled. "Come in!"
"Ah, Seth, I'm so glad you could make it. This is Dave. Dave, this is Seth, soon to be my store manager once I've officially retired."
Dave had a hard time disguising his initial surprise, first at the news that Liam was planning to retire, and second because of Seth. He looked like he could be an Olympic swimmer. He hesitated to compare him to an Olympian God but the man was absolutely gorgeous. Blonde hair, green eyes, tall, athletic build. Dave realized he was staring and stood up to shake Seth's hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, Seth."
"Same here, Dave, I've been looking forward to meeting you. Please, sit down," he said, moving the chair to face Dave before sitting beside him, leaning back and crossing his legs with his hands behind his head and a wide grin on his face. Dave blushed a little under the scrutiny of both men but managed a relaxed smile, even going so far as to lean back in the chair the way Seth was doing, but with his arms on the rests. He hadn't realized how stiff his neck and shoulders had been until he sank into the soft back of the leather upholstered chair.
"So, Dave," Seth began, "We've only heard good things about you from your professors and your current employers. I'm curious as to why you want to leave them and come here?"
"I'm a fair to middling mechanic and salesman after working for George for the past five years, and I've been working at Martinetti's since I was sixteen but I went to college to expand my experiences and my abilities. I'm hoping to work here because I feel my talents could be useful."
"You're only 21 and have graduated from college with top grades. That's quite a feat. How do you know you won't get bored here?"
"Honestly, it'll all be new to me, but I've always been something of a workaholic. I like to keep busy, and I love to learn new things. I know that L.G. Moore has been in business for more than five generations and I know I would enjoy being a part of it."
He didn't mention that it was not even remotely far enough away from the Ferraros for his tastes, but far enough to discourage them from 'just happening to be in the area.' which he knew had been a crock in the past.
He unconsciously touched his right eye with questing fingertips, expecting to find swelling and bruising even after all this time. He saw the others looking at him and turned the gesture into a brief scratch before placing his hands palm down on his thighs once more.
"Well, you've come highly recommended. Despite your inexperience, we'd like you to come and work with us. We'd be happy to have you join our little family. You'd be starting out in the men's department helping with sales and alterations when our tailor, Marco, is busy or running behind. We'll be hiring more people eventually so your duties won't be too overwhelming. Your fashion design portfolio was absolutely beautiful, and your professor couldn't say enough good things about you and your ability to turn a drawing into reality. You're really quite talented."
"Thank you, sir," Dave replied, trying not to sound too pleased by the compliments. Whenever Azriel felt he was becoming too proud she would always cut him down, and while he knew these people wouldn't do the same thing, there was a tiny twinge of suspicion at the back of his mind that wouldn't let him believe that they were really that impressed by him, and were only being kind.
"Call me Seth, please," the tall blonde replied with a smile. "Liam insists upon it. He says it engenders more of a sense of family than if we were more formal with each other. And L.G. Moore is famous for being a family operation."
"So, Dave," Liam cut in, "As you can tell, we're eager to have you join us as soon as you're able. What do you say?"
Dave's heart wanted to tell these men no, that he didn't want to leave his home and friends, but Seth's green eyes were so sincere. He looked to Liam's blue ones, the color of comfortable, faded blue jeans and saw the same sincerity. Before he realized what he was saying he replied, "Yes, I'd love to."
Liam and Seth both smiled broadly and reached out to shake Dave's hand to seal the deal.
"Excellent!" Liam exclaimed, getting up from his chair and coming around the desk to clap Dave on the shoulder. "Now, I know you have things to do, packing and arranging to move out here, for instance, but if there's anything we can do to make the transition smoother, just let us know."
"I've actually been apartment hunting," Seth admitted with a sheepish expression. "There's an apartment building not far from where I live that has several openings, and it's not far from here either, so you can either drive or walk and not even break a sweat. The neighborhood is quiet and has a good reputation. If you're interested I'd like to bring you by and you can take a look at it before you go back."
"That would be very nice, Seth. Thank you." Dave replied, feeling his heart beat a little faster as he looked at the taller man. 'Down boy!' he admonished himself, 'Yes, he's attractive, but he may not be gay and he most certainly wouldn't be attracted to a fat ass like you if he is. Keep it professional.' He tore his gaze away from Seth with some difficulty and looked back to Liam.
"I really appreciate this opportunity, Liam. I won't let you down."
"I know you won't, Dave. Seth, why don't you introduce him around to the others before you take him to see the apartments," Liam suggested.
"No problem," Seth said, smiling at Dave, trying not to lose himself in the young man's cerulean blue eyes. "It'll be my pleasure."
Dave felt a thrill at the gaze and again quenched it as Seth turned and gestured him out of the office.
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