Page 76 of The Moon Also Rises
When Rami doesn’t respond for a short while, I turn to check he’s still there, and he is, still standing behind me, slightly to the side, both of us now gazing straight up at the blue sky.
“I think Elliot was trying to come on to you earlier,” Rami says out of nowhere.
“Me?” I squeak. “That wasn’t for me. That was all for you.”
“Ha! I doubt it. I think you’ve caught Sergio’s eye too.”
“Rami, don’t do this,” I say in a part-hiss, part-whisper. “You should know better than to just assume when queer men are in a room together we all automatically fancy each other.”
It’s Rami’s turn to lean in a little closer. “But I do fancy one of the gay men in this room.”
After another shiver has worked its way down my spine, I turn to look at him and try to elongate this conversation, but he’s no longer behind me, instead he’s walking over to Elliot who is standing with his hands on his hips watching Sergio, Wayne and Alison stand at the other end of the courtyard.
“Elliot, can you remind me again what the staff discount is that your ex-boyfriend used to love so much?” Rami says.
“You don’t know? Blimey. That’s the first thing I asked at my job interview.” He laughs loudly. “It’s fifty per cent. You need to start taking advantage of that.”
Rami hums before asking, “And would that still apply if a staff member was to hold a function here, like a fortieth birthday party for example?”
“Rami,” I warn through gritted teeth.
“It still applies. My ex-boyfriend and I looked into possibly having an engagement party here. It was like a sick game of Call My Bluff waiting for him to propose, and I guess he called mine when he broke up with me via text message.”
“Do you have your calendar on your phone?” Rami asks as he pulls out his own device.
“I do indeed, are you asking me out on a date?” Elliot does that slimy laugh again. I cough loudly enough so that I get Rami’s attention and when I do, I give him my best I-told-you-so look.
“Do you have availability on or around the third of September?” Rami asks.
Why the hell does he have my birthday in his calendar?
“That’s a Saturday, right? Oh, yes, I remember now. We had a cancellation just last week and so we have the courtyard and adjoining function room all available. But the ballroom is taken for a retirement party.”
“We’ll take the courtyard, or rather, Jake over here will.” When Rami emphasises my name to Elliot once again, it almost makes up for the chaos he is causing everywhere else in my body and brain.
“Oh, what’s the occasion, Jack?” Elliot asks.
“Nothing big,” I say, considering whether to allow myself a moment of imagining all my friends in this space. It would be amazing to have Jenna and Marty here too, maybe Maeve could also come for the occasion. Could I even invite my father and Carol? Would they come? I reverse a little and even let myself have the thought that I think has been trying to burrow its way to the surface for a long time; I’m never going to get married, so why not make this something special? Can I maybe just relax and say “Fuck it” to this proposition? I’ll find a way to pay for it somehow, or rather, I’ll find another credit card to do so.
“It’s his birthday and it’s going to be the party of the year,” Rami says with confidence, coming to stand next to me, his arm touching mine.
“That’s exactly what we want!” Ali interrupts. “The party of the year!”
I don’t mind her interjecting and making all my vivid daydreams disappear. I don’t even mind her assuming the only thing the four members of her queer wedding organising army have on their minds is making her day the best of her life. And a part of me doesn’t even mind that it now seems I have to go through with this birthday party and its hefty price tag, even with the healthy discount. Because Rami’s body heat is still radiating through our suits from his to mine and that, honestly, is all that seems to matter.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rami
The meeting has been a great success. Wayne and Alison walk away happy. Jake has a venue for his fortieth birthday party, and his pout upon arranging that was more begrudged amusement rather than outright rage.
I’ve got quite good at judging his pouts. But none of this is the reason I’m smiling. That has more to do with the fact that for me the meeting was a great success because he and I managed to squeeze in some flirting and possibly completely meaningless, but also just as possibly very meaningful touches in passing.
And we’re doing more of it now, our shoulders brushing against one another as we sit side by side on the Tube together, replying to the emails that have filled our inboxes during the meeting.
At least, I’m sure that’s what Jake is doing, but for some reason I can’t concentrate.
“Jake,” I begin.
