Page 19 of Surrender

“I’m starting to see why you want to become a counselor, and I have so much respect for that,” Ever said. “I feel frivolous by comparison.”

“Don’t say that. You help your followers every single day by being kind and encouraging. I’ll bet a hell of a lot of people are grateful for the positive impact you’ve had on their lives.”

“That’s a really sweet thing to say, and it’s what I’ve always hoped for.” He glanced at me with a little grin. “You know, this conversation is a nice surprise. Roger told me you barely spoke to him and hid in your room the first few months you lived here. I figured it would take a while for you to warm up to me.”

“I’m a work in progress. I used to be so closed off and guarded that I’d push away anyone who tried to get close to me. I’m a different person now, compared to who I was ten years ago, or five, or even two years ago, when I first met Roger. I still have a long way to go, though.”

“I get that,” Ever said. “I’m all about becoming the best possible version of myself, and hopefully finding some peace and happiness along the way.”

“Exactly.” I was kind of surprised he understood what I was trying to say. I ate another granola cluster before looping back around to a topic we’d skimmed over. “You said one of the reasons you sold your gym was because someone offered you a lot of money for it. What were the other reasons?”

“I wanted a new challenge. I’d built up that business as much as I could, and there wasn’t any place else to take it—short of franchising it, which didn’t appeal to me. The thought of designing and building a state-of-the-art fitness center from the ground up was exciting.”

“Why’d you decide to build it here?”

“I’d always liked San Francisco, and I couldn’t build it in Southern California. I signed a noncompetition agreement when I sold my gym, so my only choice was to move out of the area.”

“Had you always lived there?”

“Yeah, all my life, aside from my time in the Marine Corps. But I was ready to leave. West Hollywood, where I was living and working, felt like a gossipy small town. Everyone knew everyone. I’d meet someone new, and then it would turn out I’d slept with two of his exes, and his best friend, and—” He cut himself off and grinned. “You know what? This story isn’t painting a particularly flattering picture.”

“I’m not judging you.”

“Okay, good. Anyway, I needed a change of scenery. I felt stuck. It was like running at top speed on a treadmill. Nothing ever changed, and I never ended up getting anywhere.”

“How do you feel now?”

Ever considered the question before saying, “Part of me feels better. I’ve temporarily stepped off the treadmill, and I finally have a chance to take a breath and look around. But then there’s this constant undercurrent of worry. That next treadmill is right up ahead, and soon I’m going to need to jump on and run harder and faster than ever. I’ve sunk all my money into the new business, and I have to make it a success. Ihave to. Everything is riding on it.”

“You’re putting an awful lot of pressure on yourself.”

“I know.” He took a breath before flashing his perfect smile. “Anyway, enough about that. Here I am, in a new city, and I’m in desperate need of a tour guide. Will you help me out?”

“Sure.” I assumed he wanted help finding the nearest farmers market, the best sushi restaurant, things like that.

“Fantastic! You have Friday off, right?” When I nodded, he said, “So, this Friday night, I want you to take me to the hottest gay night club in town.”

“Oh. I, um… I don’t really go to clubs. But I can introduce you to some people who’d love to show you San Francisco’s night life.”

He shook his head. “I want you to show me, Tracy.”

“Why?”

“Because I think we’d have fun.”

“You’d have a much better time with some of my outgoing friends,” I said. “All I do in loud, crowded social situations is look for a quiet corner to hide in.”

“You won’t do that when you and I are out on the town. You’ll be having too much fun.”

“Seriously, let me call my friend Vee. He’s always the life of the party. He’ll probably bring along some of his housemates, and you’ll all have a great time.”

“Definitely invite them,” Ever said, “but I want you to be there, too.”

“I don’t know.”

“Just give it an hour. Come with me and introduce me to your friends. Have a couple of drinks. When the hour’s up, if you’re truly not having a good time, I’ll call you a Lyft.”

He really wasn’t asking for much, just an hour of my time and a few introductions. I could do that. “Fine. I’ll message Vee tomorrow.”

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