Complementary Colors Page 16

  “But what?”

  “Huh?”

  “You were planning on getting new watchband, but what?”

  “I guess I just haven’t had time.” He flipped the menu over and then back.

  “Are you going to drink your wine?”

  He picked up the glass and took a sip.

  “What do you think?”

  “I guess it’s good.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I don’t have a lot of experience with what good wine tastes like.”

  “Well, for three hundred and fifty dollars, it’s a very good wine.” I drained my glass. “Do you want another?”

  He put the glass back on the table without taking another sip. “No, I’m good.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “People actually pay that much for a bottle of wine?”

  “People pay a lot more than that for very good wine.”

  “This doesn’t qualify as very good wine?”

  “For someone who just likes to drink it, sure. For someone who’s a connoisseur, who knows?”

  Roy went back to tapping his fingers on the table. One, then two, then back to one. His gaze went from the bottle, to the plate, to the menu.

  Three hundred and fifty bucks was half of what Roy rented his apartment for. An apartment he kept cold to save on the electric bill. His sofa was worn down to the springs, and his bed came from The Salvation Army. The rest of his furniture went with the apartment.

  And last night, he’d taken the only bill out of his wallet and dropped it into a bucket to help five veterans buy food for the homeless.

  “Where’s the last place you ate dinner, Roy?”

  “Why?”

  “Humor me.”

  A furrow creased his brow. “The Slaughter House.”

  “The what?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I know it sounds bad, but they specialize in slaughtered hot dogs, dress them up a hundred different ways.”

  “Are they good?”

  “You have no idea. And their cheesecake is to die for.”

  I stood and put on my coat. “C’mon.”

  “Where?”

  “Let’s go eat cheesecake.”

  His smile was the most beautiful thing I’d seen all day. He started to stand. “Wait, what about dinner?”

  “You said the food was good. We’ll eat there.” I jerked my head at the door.

  “What about the wine?”

  I grabbed the bottle. “If it goes with veal and lamb, I’m willing to bet it will be even better with hot dogs.” Roy followed me to the back of the room, and we slipped through the side door leading into the kitchen.

  Men in white jackets and black slacks arranged meats beside vegetables on a canvas of white porcelain. There was a door in the back where the waiters and cooks went to smoke.

  Sometimes when the meals got too boring with Julia, I’d slip outside and share a cigarette.

  Roy stopped me at the end of the hall. “We need to pay for that.” He nodded at the wine bottle.

  “Are you kidding, it was horrible? Practically vinegar.” I pulled him by his hand. “C’mon, before our waiter sees us.” We exited the building and half jogged, half walked our escape.

  I made it to the corner before I broke out in laughter. Roy held me up while looking over his shoulder.

  “Do you think they’ll call the police?”

  Shifting my weight forced Roy’s body flush against mine. “It’s not like we robbed a bank.” I played with the short hairs on the back of his head.

  “No, but that wine is three hundred bucks.”

  “Three hundred and fifty.”

  “We should go back and pay for it.”

  “No, we shouldn’t. I told you, it was terrible. Worst wine I’ve ever had.” I took a sip from the bottle and offered it to Roy. He shook his head. “If it makes you feel any better, they would have thrown it out. This way it won’t go to waste.” I drank some more, and it dribbled down my chin. “Sorry, I usually hold my liquor much better than that.”

  Roy wiped the droplets away with his thumb. I caught his hand and held it against my cheek. The calluses on his palm scraped against my freshly shaven skin, sending an electric crackle down my spine.

  “Paris…” Roy brushed his lips against my temple. I turned my head, hoping to catch his mouth, but he held my face just out of reach.

  Under the halogen lights, his green eyes were some shade of black that had no name, clear, dark, and on fire. If he’d been any other man, I would have had him eating out of my palm, but I was the one who’d been tamed.

  “I guess we better go get something to eat,” I said.

  “Yeah.” He stroked his fingers along my jaw and down my neck. The pleasant heat collecting in my balls condensed into an ache.

  “Roy…”

  He traced my pulse back up to the soft place behind my ear. Then he expanded his hand until he cupped the back of my head.

  I whimpered. “Roy, please…please…please…” My need for him went deeper than flesh and tugged at something inside me I didn’t know existed. Whatever it was crushed my will.

  “Please what?”

  “Kiss me.” He started to pull away, and I clung to him.

  Roy sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  “You know why.”

  “It’s just a kiss.”

  “Nothing is just a kiss when it comes to you.”

  “Please.”

  Roy put his mouth close to mine. “A kiss.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Just one.”

  “No more.”

  “No, no, no more.”

  Roy took the wine bottle from the fold of my arm and put it on the ground. “So you won’t drop it.”

  “You must be planning on some kiss.”

  Roy put his arm around me, sealing our bodies together. My erection pressed against his thigh.

  “You’re blushing,” he said.

  “It’s the cold.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I started to put my hand on his cheek, but he’d barely agreed to the kiss.

  “You can touch me. There at least.”

  His skin burned my fingertips. I searched his face, but I didn’t know what I was looking for. Even though I knew it was there, right in front of me, I couldn’t see it.

  Roy tipped his head, and the ghost of his exhale mixed with mine. “You still haven’t told me why you’re blushing.” He moved just enough to put a pressure against my cock. If he did it again, I would come. “Paris?”

  “My kiss.” The words scratched my throat. “You promised. One kiss. And you never break your promises.” I gripped the lapels of his jacket.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I drank his words on a gasp.

  “I promise you, I’ll be here as long as you want me to be.”

  Closer, the snow landing on his skin became tears on my face.

  “A day…A week…”

  His lips brushed mine.

  “Don’t close your eyes.”

  If Roy had ordered my heart to stop, it would have.

  “That’s better.”

  “My kiss.”

  “Your kiss.”

  He erased the space between us.

  I parted my lips, begging Roy to fill me, but there was only the weight of his mouth on mine, the velvet of his skin, the tiniest bit of silk fed to me on the tip of his tongue.

  The contact was brief, but it set fire to my insides, dug into my bones, scattered my thoughts, and crushed me.

  Broke me.

  Then he stepped away, and I returned to my body, standing on that stretch of sidewalk at the corner of a building near two parked cars.

  It was snowing.

  And it was so very cold.

  ********

  The Slaughter House was a hole-in-the-wall café between a pawnshop and a drug store. Chrome framed the windows, and a red awning hung over the doo
r.

  A layer of snow covered the three tables out front.

  Roy held the door open, and I stepped into a world where the closest thing to ambience was a flickering fluorescent light in the back. The one empty table was missing chairs.

  “There’re seats at the counter,” Roy said.

  I shrugged off my coat, but there was no place to put it so I draped it over the back of the stool. A strip of duct tape covered a crack on the vinyl cushion.

  “Well, look at what the cat dragged in.” A black woman hugged Roy before he could sit down. “Where you been, stranger?”

  “Working.”

  “You don’t come see me as often as you used to.” She winked at him, and Roy glanced at me.

  “Most of the jobs I’ve taken have been on the other side of town.”

  “That’s no excuse. You can always visit on the weekends.” She offered me one of her plump hands. “And you are?”

  “I’m sorry,” Roy said. “Louise, this is Paris.”

  We shook.

  “Paris? Uh-huh…now that’s a fancy name. Roy knows this side of town like the back of his hand. Make sure he shows you around. ‘Cause something tells me a pretty boy like you could get into a whole lot’a trouble.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that. The last thing I want is trouble.”

  To Roy, she said, “Are you gonna have your usual?”

  “Uh, sure.” Roy sat beside me.

  “What about you, honey?”

  “Make mine the same, I guess.”

  When she spoke to Roy again, it was just above a whisper, and the bright grin she wore turned subtle. “So have you made any plans for Christmas yet?”

  “Not really, no, ma’am.”

  “The invitation is still open. And you know, Betty isn’t seeing anyone right now.”

  Roy fumbled with the silverware. “Betty is a real nice girl…” He moved the fork to his right, then added the butter knife. “But I’m seeing someone.”

  “Oh…” Louise straighten her shoulders. “Do I know her?”

  “Uh…actually…actually it’s…” He cleared his throat. He took a breath. He fumbled with the silverware some more. He took another breath, and then his hands fell still.

  Roy met her gaze.

  “Actually you just met him.”

  She glanced at me and then back. “Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Ohhh—” Louise took out her ticket book, then patted down her pockets. “I, uh…you said your usual, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ll go get a pen and write that…” She shook her head at me. “I’ll make sure Jonathan puts extra chili on yours. Maybe it will put some meat on your bones.” She hurried away.

  Roy slumped in his seat.

  “Did you just come out for the first time to a waitress?”

  “I think so.”

  Louise went from the cash register to the back counter. She patted down her pockets again and pulled out a pen. Instead of writing anything down, she went over to the man rolling hot dogs around in an iron skillet. He was tall, with black hair, and skin just a shade darker than Roy’s. The man glanced over his shoulder at us.

  “I think you’re about to become talk of the town.”

  Roy’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.

  “You regret telling her?”

  “Never.”

  Right there in front of the world, he kissed me on the forehead.

  “Oh my God.” A girl with wild curly hair and green eyes appeared from behind a door in the kitchen. She propped her elbows on the counter in front of us. “Momma wasn’t lying. You gotta boyfriend.” She had her mother’s smile.

  “This is Shara,” Roy said.

  She waved at me. “Is your name really Paris?”

  “Yes.”

  Shara clicked her tongue and shook her head. Curls stuck to her cheeks, and she pushed them back. “You white people come up with some funny names. Countries, states, and cars. There’s this girl in my homeroom, her name is Lexus. Can you believe that? If I was gonna have to be named after a car, it would at least be a cool one.”

  I propped my chin on my fist. “And what do you consider a cool car name?”

  “Lamborghini, or Bugatti, or maybe Aston Martin. That would be a good name for a boy.”

  “Aston Martin does have a nice ring to it. Maybe I should consider changing my name.” I nudged Roy with my elbow. “What do you think?”

  “Your name’s fine the way it is.”

  I shrugged. “You heard him. No name change.”

  “Well, you ain’t married to him yet. Means you can do whatever you want. So if you want to change your name, change it. Momma says no man should own a woman. I guess that would go for boys too.” She eyed Roy. “You should’ve told Becky you liked boys. She’s gonna be heartbroken.” Roy stared at the fork in front of him. “Momma and her been looking at wedding dresses.”

  I raised my eyebrows at Roy. “Wedding dresses? Sounds serious.”

  “I only met her once,” he said.

  “Must have made quite an impression.”

  “He did.” Shara bounced on her toes. “Becky done nothing but talk about Roy since she met him. Roy this, Roy that. She talk about you so much I almost get tired of hearing your name.”

  I folded my arms and fought the smile trying to crawl across my face. “Well, maybe we need to rethink this dating thing we have going on.”

  For a second, Roy paled.

  “Naw,” Shara said. “When you like boys, you like boys. Momma said when that happens, they’d just made that way.” She leaned closer, and so did I. “But I know this girl, she likes girls and boys. She really do.”

  “It happens,” I said.

  “You think Roy might like both?”

  I flicked him a look.

  Shara nodded. “If he do, then he could marry Betty and you. Then he could have both.”

  Roy made a strangled sound.

  “No,” I said. “I’m pretty sure Roy only likes boys.”

  She stood back up. “Oh well. Guess that means you’re gonna have to adopt, seeing you can’t have no babies.”

  “Shara.” Louise popped her head out from behind the door in the back. “Get your butt in here right now.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I gotta go. Momma will want me to do inventory now that she’s all on the phone. See ya.” She leaned forward again but stopped. “Since you like boys, do that mean I can’t kiss you on the cheek no more?”

  Roy turned his head. She gave him a peck and bounced away.

  “That was cute,” I said. “How old is she? Fourteen?”

  “Twelve.”

  “Isn’t she tall for twelve?”

  “All of Louise’s kids are tall like their father.” He nodded at the man hovering over the stove, cutting up hot dogs in buns and drowning them in a myriad of toppings. The teenager helping him looked like a younger version.

  “How many does she have?”

  “Eight.”

  “Wow. I hope you’re not expecting us to have that many.”

  Roy opened his mouth. Then shut it. “Not funny.”

  I poked his stomach. “I bet you’d make a terrific mommy.”

  “No, I—”

  “Butterball stomach.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Your feet would swell, and I’d rub them.”

  “Paris—”

  “You’d get to eat all the ice cream you want.”

  “Don’t—”

  “We could go to Lamaze classes together, and afterward, you could go out with all the other mommies and talk about baby shoes and diapers.”

  He scrubbed his face. “Why are we even talking about this? It’s not even possible.”

  “With the wonders of modern medicine? Never say never.”

  An older version of Shara stopped by. “Momma said she forgot to get your drinks.”

  “Coffee and water,” Roy said.

  I nodded at the wine bottle. “Just a glass.
I brought my own.”

  “It’s still a quarter, but the ice is free.”

  “A quarter is fine and hold the ice.”

  She cocked her mouth to the side and gave Roy a look. “Why you have’da get some white boy who’s gonna blow away in the wind?” The girl tromped away.

  “Yeah,” I said. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “You’re not that skinny.”

  “Then why are you always trying to feed me?”

  “You’re not skinny enough to blow away.”

  “What about the white boy part?”

  “Nothing I can do about that.”

  I laughed. “Maybe I should get a tan.”

  “You’d burn to a crisp.”

  The girl delivered our drinks, and her father followed up with two mutilated hot dogs in buns drowning under a tower of chili, cheese, peppers, and other substances I couldn’t identify, contained in two metal boat-shaped trays. She left, but he didn’t.

  “Roy, I hope you’re proud of yourself.” He took the towel off his shoulder and wiped his hands. “You got Louise stirred up so bad I’ll never get her off the phone tonight.”

  “That wasn’t my intention, Jonathan. I’m sorry.”

  “So when you boys gonna tie the knot?”

  Roy almost dropped his coffee cup.

  “Don’t look at me that way. With the way Louise is talking, you two done bought a house, a dog, and got three kids.”

  “And you told me you couldn’t have children,” I said.

  Roy glared at me. To Jonathan, he said, “We haven’t been together that long.”

  “Well, you better keep this one.” He nodded at me. “‘Cause she’s probably back there ordering your cake and booking you a place at the church.” He slapped Roy on the shoulder. “Enjoy.”

  “Have we set a date yet?” I said.

  Roy rubbed his forehead while poking his food with a fork. “Sorry about that. Louise can get a little exuberant.”

  “I’ll say. You married her daughter and divorced her within a minute, proposed to me, got pregnant, and now we have a dog.” I poured some wine into the empty glass. “That’s a lot to happen in one night. Even for me. I’m kind of speechless, come to think of it.” I held up the bottle. “Want some?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Might make you feel better.”

  “It’s not…I don’t…” He made a frustrated sound.