Page 26 of The Photograph

“What are you thinking?”

Oh and now … Fuck.My face gets hot. I study my salad and chase a bit of lettuce with my fork.

“Alex?”

“I was wondering what your eyelashes would look like all dark.” Ugh. Where is my filter? I sound like a high schooler.

His gaze roams over my hair and my face and his lips curl up.

“I look amazing in makeup. You would, too.”

“You wear it?” My body goes wired. Sweet Jesus. Howwouldhe look? Incredible, no doubt. His hookups have probably seen him like that a hundred times. The electric feeling of delight turns into a hollow ache.

“For going out sometimes, yeah. Not often for the office. You know.” He winks at me.

Thatyou knowsays it all. The unwritten code. Don’t be too obvious, don’t make the straight people uncomfortable, don’t be too unconventional. Don’t have fun, don’t shout I’m gay too loudly or even at all. Don’t be loud and proud. Suddenly, I want to burn it all up, rip up that paper. Who says we can’t? I drum my fingers on the table, take a bite of my salad, chew, and swallow.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d have that problem.”

He laughs. “It’s always a problem. For some reason, I’m always an issue.” His eyes roam my hair again. “I’d love to dress you up.”

Why do I think he’s moving off the “I’m always an issue” statement?

“Like your own personal Ken doll?”

Batting his eyelashes, he says, “How did you know that I played with dolls when I was a kid?”

“What did you mean by ‘I’m always an issue’?”

He gestures down his body. “I’m just too out for a lot of people. In every job I’ve had, it’s become a struggle eventually. Someone makes a comment, somebody is uncomfortable.Someone has a conversation with me. Tone it down, less drama.” He screws up his face.

“New York appears like the most accepting place to me, though.”

“Along with San Fran, I think it is, but that still doesn’t guarantee that things get accepted.”

My parents and my sisters pop into my head. God. Yeah, he’s spot on. At the table next to us, a lady in a sharp suit with the bright yellow Tory Burch bag is thumbing throughInteriors Today. Farther over, two women are holding hands. Every day I come into the city and it’s like stepping into a foreign land.

What am I doing here? What am I doing talking to a man like Des? My whole family would be horrified. A memory blooms of soft lips on mine, my fingers woven through another male hand, then his face, contorted with pain, hands buried in his hair. If I share that relationship with Des, I’ll have to tell him what happened after. My stomach turns over. Des moves some tomato and avocado around in his bowl before popping a forkful of chickpeas in his mouth. “Tell me about this thing at work.”

I’m so distracted, I’d forgotten what this lunch was about.

“Yeah. What I do for the company is write summaries on potential investments, chiefly financial analysis but market stuff, too. There’s a large team of people who do what I do, and part of the job is to come up with suggestions. Sometimes we’re told what to do, but there are brownie points for coming up with decent ideas of your own.”

Des claps his hands. “And you want my recommendations?”

I grin at him. He’s ridiculously cute.

“Well, we don’t often delve into tech because the risk is high and it’s difficult to assess the technology, you know? Unless you’ve got a lot of technical knowledge, can you really say whether the tech is groundbreaking or not? In the investment field, everyone tends to stay away from it because of the pitfalls:the analysts I mean. I got on a bit of a wild hair today and told my supervisor I had some ideas. She seemed delighted.” I groan and put my head in my hands. “What an idiot. I know nothing about this space.”

He drags my hands away from my face and tips his head down trying to meet my eyes. “But I do Alex, so you’ve come to the right place. Plus, I’ve got access to lots of people who understand tech. Janus Phillips, for example.”

“Who?”

“Don’t you read the gossip columns? He is the hottest man in New York.” Leaning forward, he whispers, “And he’s married to my boss, Jo.”

He pulls his phone out and starts tapping.

“Here.”

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