Page 14 of Champagne Kisses
“What? Hell no. She could just tell from dancing with me.” Damon doesn’t try to hide his confusion.
“Uh…And that’sbad?“ I gulp the second drink and take a calming breath.
“She said she was glad I had a big dick considering the stereotypes aboutAsianmen.“ At my last words, Damon looks nearly as angry as I am.
“Really, dude? In 2024? Still?”
“Right!” I said, feeling validated. That chick was rude as hell. “It came out of left field and threw me way the fuck off. I barely said two words to her and she’s calling me the Ron Jeremy of Asians.” Damon coughs into his drink to hide his smile.
“It’s not funny, dude.” His smile opens up to a full laugh and I start to laugh too. “OK, that was a little funny. But that woman certainly wasn’t. In what world is it a good idea to compare someone to their entire race?” Damon turns to me, his face suddenly serious.
“It’s ten times worse overseas, bro. It gets so bad sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it, just for the BS money I’m getting paid.”
“I’m sorry, man. That’s awful.”
“I’m one person’s stereotype, and another person’s fetish. All the while, I’m just missing home.” I’ve never heard my brother talk like this.
“Are you thinking about giving it up?” I ask gingerly. We all want Damon home, but we don’t want to pressure him. It’s his life, after all. He wipes his hand over his face.
“I don’t know…,” he sighs. “I might notquit, but maybe just let my contract run out at the end of next season.“ Holy shit! My brother is finally coming home. I wondered when he’d be ready. He’s in his 30s already, and playing basketball is not a forever job.
“That’s major, Damon.” He cuts his eyes to me quickly.
“Don’t tell Mom or Dad. I don’t want to get their hopes up if I change my mind but…I don’t think I’ll change my mind.” He looks so down right now, I feel bad for bringing up the brunette’s idiot remark. To be abroad, not looking like those around you or speaking the language? It must be tough.
I get so happy at the thought of having my brother back, just a train ride away, that I forget all about the woman, and buy us a round of drinks instead.
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
Chapter six
Maya
Iload the last of the glasses into the back of my car and lean on my trunk in relief. I'm already exhausted and I haven't even left; I don’t know if I’ll survive another rush order with Jerry as long as I live. Though he said he’d be done with the flutes two days ago, he ended up getting a rush order from another client that took priority.
When June 26th came and went, I reached out to Adam with the bad news. He was pretty pissed to say the least, since two days wasn’t enough time for him to order new favors from somewhere else. Ever since I dropped that bombshell, I started giving him almost hourly updates. His texts were understandably way less flirty.
After several pleading calls in which I promised him Napoleons from scratch (including the puff pastry), Jerry finally finished Adam's order late last night. As requested, I textedAdam, even though it was one in the morning. I let him know I'd have to rush over to Jerry's apartment in Staten Island at the crack of dawn before HE left on vacation too—Am I the only one not taking time off this Summer?—and I'd head to the venue after my morning class.
Somehow, I let Tiffany talk me into leading crafting classes part-time at her Summer camp in Harlem. No wonder I'm worn out. I've already been to three of the five boroughs and I still have a four-hour drive ahead of me.
When Tiff's program in DC ran out of grant money, I assured her New York had plenty of underserved students in need of support. She linked up with Harlem School of the Arts two weeks later, but found out their usual crafting teacher got married and is taking the Summer to backpack through South America with her new wife.
As Tiff's closest friend in the city since her move, I volunteered, which meant my Saturday mornings lately have been spent waist deep in yarn, popsicle sticks, and construction paper. Tiffany has bought drinks every girls' night to make it up to me but honestly? It's heaven. One of these kids might become a lifelong art lover because of this program. That's how it happened for me, at least.
I see the last of the kids off to the 6 train and check my watch. 12:15pm. I plug the venue address into my phone and head back to the center—my car is parked out front. Google Maps says the drive will take four hours, so if I add an hour for traffic and another thirty minutes for bathroom breaks, I should get therearound… 5:00pm. That’s cutting it close for an event that starts at 6:30pm.
I double-check the address and hope I’ve added in enough buffer. Adam is not going to be happy but the situation couldn't be avoided. Maybe he'll have mercy on me because I was helping kids? Not likely. New Yorkers aren't exactly known for their compassion. Hand deliveries aredefinitelynot the way to go in the future. They are way too nerve-wracking.
I take a deep breath before writing my text.
Adam (Champagne Flutes)
Adam (Champagne Flutes): You’re not going to get here until 5:00pm?! Emily is going to kill me.
I thought the bride’s name was Jessi?
Adam (Champagne Flutes):It is. Emily is the MOH/wedding planner. I told her not to worry because YOU told me not to worry and now we might be screwed.
