Jimmy is on a break from his boyfriend August. He’s still in a tailspin because the break was unexpected and demanded by his boyfriend. But when Jimmy returns home to visit his mother and friends, he runs into his high school crush and the pain from his past he has tried to ignore or bury resurfaces.
When his boyfriend subsequently wants to fly down and see Jimmy, Jimmy isn’t sure what to expect. Will Jimmy have to forge a new path in life? And what about the pain from his past ... should he forgive his high school crush?
I swirled the half empty glass of Diet Coke. The ice had melted and a part of me wanted to get another soda from one of the servers walking around the fundraiser hosted by the company I work for, and other brokerage firms. But I couldn’t help but watch the door too.
“You doing okay, August?” the female bartender asked.
“I think so ... actually, can I get another Diet Coke?”
If I left now, I could be in bed in about an hour in my little studio in Brooklyn. I eyed my boss. He was chatting up a few people in the corner. Since he’d already seen me, I figured I could leave soon.
Someone moved to the bar stool next to me. It freaked me out for a moment that a stranger was this close but then again, before COVID, there was no really no such thing as social distancing in Manhattan.
I glanced up to the mirror that covered the back wall of the bar, and caught the reflection of the man who sat next to me.
He was this blond, gorgeous guy. He was also wearing a mixer name tag.
Great, some jock finance bro.
I quickly nodded in his direction, and mumbled, “Hey.”
The man didn’t say anything but he was too good looking for me not to say something again.
I had nothing to lose.
“I’m August,” I said, holding out my hand to shake his. As soon as I did it I regretted it, after all the city had just gone through some tough COVID rules. I wasn’t sure if shaking hands was still acceptable.
Yet, he accepted my outstretched hand. “I’m Jimmy. I hope you don’t mind that I sit here.”
“Not at all.” I was about to say something when one of the servers came around.
“Can I get you anything?” the dark-haired server asked Jimmy.
“Maybe a gin and tonic?”
“Can I see your ID, please? I don’t see that you have a wristband.”
The server had an East Indian accent. If I were to guess I would say he was from Bangladesh.
Jimmy took out his wallet and showed his driver’s license.
“Thanks, I’ll be right back with your drink.”
Jimmy nodded and set his ID down by his empty glass.
I raised my stale glass of diet coke, but our friendly server was already gone. “Well, I guess I can continue to nurse this soda.”
“I’m sure he will be back soon. So, what do you do?” Jimmy asked.
“Options. And you?”
“Bonds.”
I smiled. This was the type of networking chitchat I hated. I hated chitchat, but I wanted to keep talking.
“Options, huh? I’m impressed.”
“Thanks.” Jimmy’s name tag didn’t reveal which firm he worked for. “I haven’t seen you around our building.”
“No, I work at Dimwit and Dimwit.” He laughed.
I couldn’t resist laughing at the industry inside joke. Dimkill and Dunhill was a well-known boutique-type of brokerage firm with offices in Tokyo, London, Toronto, and Paris besides New York City. They were known to manage a lot of private accounts that catered to oil wealth and royalty.
“I interviewed with them right after college.”
“Oh?” Jimmy asked.
“Obviously the nice Jewish kid from Brooklyn didn’t get it.”
“Sorry. Not sure how I got it. I sent my resume in and got a call.”
I was going to say something smart that being hot was probably what go him in the door and got hired, but I bit my tongue.
When the server returned with Jimmy’s gin and tonic, Jimmy then spoke, and pointed to me. “Can you get him another --”
“Diet Coke.”
“Of course,” the server said.
“No hard stuff for you?” Jimmy asked.
“Not that kind of hard stuff,” I nodded to Jimmy’s hand that held his drink.
Jimmy chortled. His laugh was almost musical. I liked it.
“I sat down next to you because you looked kinda bored or --”
“I don’t like these things. I got pressured by my boss to come.”
“I get it,” Jimmy said. “I came with some guys from work.”
I caught where Jimmy was looking at, and saw a bunch of finance bros wearing tailored suits and shirts without ties.
“Finance bros,” I said under my breath. God, they were so annoying.
“What? What did you say?” Jimmy asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re a finance bro, too.” Jimmy shook his head.
Okay, you did hear me then. “I work in finance, but I’m not a bro.”
“What does that mean?” Jimmy asked.
“Nothing.”
“Come on. You can’t make a comment like that and not expect someone to ask why you said that.”
