Page 6 of Cleats and Pumps

He said the last two words like he’d just eaten a green persimmon, and his mouth was too shriveled to speak.

Keith had dated Peter, a small but significant fact I’d forgotten when I’d asked him to get him involved. Now, it was clear bad blood still flowed between them.

“I’ll see you on Monday.”

I avoided the bars, where I usually spent every weekend before and during the affair with Gregory. I didn’t want to run into him and see him thrusting his tongue down some muscle-bound airhead’s throat.

I felt better after the dream. I was much better now that I’d written the music, just like the soothsayer had said. That didn’t mean I wanted to see him kissing someone else and reminding me of what I didn’t have.

By Monday, I was fit to be tied. I needed to get out of town sooner rather than later. If I spent another weekend at home avoiding the nightlife, I’d pull my hair out.

I stopped by the service station to grab coffee and donuts. Keith would complain that his fifty-year-old body didn’t tolerate donuts any longer, but the man was as thin as a rail, and one donut wouldn’t hurt him.

I pulled into Keith’s driveway and approached his door when I heard yelling. I quickly slipped inside to find Peter and Keith yelling at each other in the kitchen.

I cleared my throat just in time to see Keith turn away, cussing under his breath.

“Oh, hi, Linc. It’s such a delight to see you again,” Peter said, and I was immediately suspicious of the formal language. Last time I’d seen Peter, he’d been drunk and dry-humping a guy at a party.

I smiled at him. “So, as I was telling your agent,” he emphasized the last two words, probably to get on Keith’s nerves, “I brought Anton Wagner to meet you. He very much liked your draft ideas.”

I cocked an eyebrow just as Keith turned around, rolling his eyes. “Anton Wagner?” I asked.

“Yes,” a male voice said behind me. I turned and almost fell to my knees. Okay, yes, I’m a bit of a drama queen, but damn, someone should’ve warned me I was about to meet Apollo, the sun god.

“Um,” I managed to stutter, “I’m Linc.”

When Anton smiled, my body reacted as if someone had stuck a live wire to me and turned on the juice.

“So, you’re the genius who wrote Alec in Wonderlust, huh?”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “I… yes, I wrote it.”

“Good, we should talk.”

“Not unless you sign that noncompete agreement,” Keith said, and suddenly, I realized what the argument had been about.

“I’ve already signed it. I did that when you two were having your, um, discussion,” he said, making me snort.

Peter and Keith gave me the same stink eye, and that made me snort again. “Come on, let’s let these two work things out. Why don’t you tell me more about how I’m a genius,” I said, drawing us into Keith’s over-the-top, elegant, and very formal living room.

“I like your work, and I’ve recently been tasked with finding a musical that honors the gay community,” he said.

I chuckled. “Well, Alec in Wonderlust is definitely queer-friendly,” I said.

The two of us chatted for what had to have been half an hour before Keith and Peter joined us.

“So,” Anton said, continuing our conversation as if the other two men hadn’t just arrived, “I’ll need to show a draft of your musical to my team and potential investors as well as my production company, and… well, the details aren’t important, but if they say yes, we would like to have you come to New York, and work with our development team. We’d need you for a weekat least while we create a working draft. Mostly to create songs that convey the storyline. Could you, um, would you be willing to do that?”

I nodded without thinking, my gaze moving up his body to meet the heavenly brown eyes that’d held me captive since I’d first seen him. Unfortunately, I was beginning to drool at the thought of all the ways I could get the man to moan.

When Anton cleared his throat, I startled and regained eye contact. “Yes, um, I can come to New York.”

“Good, then you can stay with me. My apartment is centrally located near the theater district.”

I gulped, then squeaked, “Um, stay with you?”

“Oh, yes, we’ll be ever so busy. I usually have planning sessions in my apartment. I hope you don’t mind. Unless you’d like a hotel, we could—”

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