Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“That’s awfully nice of you,” Mr. Stiel added. “Of course I’ll help any way I can. You know I support you, August.”
Augie looked from his grandfather back to his mother. “But I don’t need a better retail space. I’m happy where I am. I love my shop.”
“Oh, honey, it’s a dusty old place,” Diane said. “Don’t you want a nice, modern…” She seemed to catch herself. “I mean, wouldn’t it be better if you had a larger space with plenty of sunlight to show off your treasures?”
Even I knew antiques didn’t fare well in sunlight. Augie’s current shop had special film on the window glass to protect the antiques inside from harmful UV light.
“What’s this really about?” I asked.
Eric sighed. “This doesn’t concern you, son.”
“If it concerns Augie, it concerns me. I think it’s time to get everything out on the table here.”
“Who is this bozo?” Brett said with a laugh. “Dude, none of this is your business. You’re a fucking fitness instructor.”
I felt Augie’s hand go rigid in my grasp. He yanked it out and stood, placing both hands on the table and leaning in. “He’s a personal security specialist and happens to also be my boyfriend! That’s right. Saint is my boyfriend, and he deserves respect. He’s right. If it concerns me, it concerns him. I have no secrets from Saint, and I trust him with my life. Now tell me what the hell is going on with my shop.”
Diane sighed and shook her head. Eric and Prima stared openmouthed. Brett’s face twisted into something ugly, and Mr. Stiel seemed more interested in his roasted potatoes than the fact his grandson had just bolted out of the closet and into the light.
I reached out slowly to place a hand on his back. He turned to me with an exasperated expression. “What the hell, Saint? Has the whole world gone mad? Why am I still part of this ridiculous family?”
“Because you’re loyal and kind. You want to think the best of everyone,” I said calmly.
“I’m an idiot.”
“You’re a star,” I said with a smile. “A brave, beautiful star.”
He chuckled at that. “You’re blind.”
“Maybe.”
“I’ve always wanted a gay friend,” Prima said with a grin. “Does this mean we can go shopping together? I’ll bet you’d never have put Beverly Sitton in yellow neoprene. What would you have picked? She has red hair and god-awful freckles.”
Augie was right—his family was ridiculous.
“Can we skip this nonsense and talk business?” Eric asked, exasperated. “This deal needs to get done. I have people crawling all over me to make this happen.”
A fist slammed down on the table. The elder Mr. Stiel’s face was purple with rage.
“I said no talk of business at the table!”
The rest of the meal was spent in silence. I’d never spent so much time mentally thanking my family for being batshit fucking crazy.
It was after we’d moved to the living room that the truth finally came out.
Chapter 35
Augie
After coming out in a blaze of glory at the table, I spent the rest of the meal shaking like Jell-O in an earthquake. Brett shot me snide looks from across the table, Uncle Eric’s jaw tightened to the point of cracking teeth, and my mother let out a put-upon sigh every few minutes.
Thankfully, Prima asked the server to move dessert and coffee into the living room so we could cut the painful portion of the meal short.
It still took fucking forever.
Through it all, Saint was so calm and settled I wondered if he was raking a Zen sand garden in his mind. How the hell could he be so chill when I was about to vomit across the table from nerves? There’d been absolutely no fallout yet from my big announcement. I waited for the judgment from my mother and uncle, not to mention the awful teasing Brett was sure to do when he got me alone.
When we moved to the living room, I chose a small love seat next to the big gas fireplace. I remembered spending hours in front of the mesmerizing flames when I was fifteen and home from school for Christmas break. It had been so soothing to stare into the fire and daydream about another life, another time. That was the same winter I’d discovered my grandfather’s set of Agatha Christie’s mystery novels. I devoured as many as I could get my hands on and then watched the movies too.
“Want me to ask if they have chocolate syrup in the kitchen?” Saint murmured next to my ear. I looked up to see the same server from before pouring coffee. “I could mix it in and make a mocha?”
My heart nearly toppled out of my chest.
“I love you,” I whispered.
Saint’s eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t the only one. That hadn’t been the way I’d imagined telling him.
“I’m sorry,” I spluttered.