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Cold, but damn.
Yeah? Did y all. I mean, I know y all were a& you know, a thing. Are you still?
Were they? Yeah. Yeah, he thought so. Yeah. He s busy and I got school n stuff, but we are.
When do you get to see him again?
Summer, probably. Maybe spring break, if he can swing it. He took a deep drag and crushed
out his smoke. When s the wedding?
Private Dances - 66
Week after next. That s why I m here. Will you stand up with me? You don t gotta wear more
than jeans and a good shirt, but Bonnie s having Lisa Cartwright there and she s all about things
being even.
Lord, lord. Thank God he was queer as a three dollar bill. Sure, buddy. I can do that.
Cool. Buck looked a little like he might just bust apart. I tell you what, this is just& You
know.
Dale nodded, even though, no, he didn t know. It ll be cool. You like kids and you re fixing to
graduate.
Yeah. Baby won t be here til June. Buck s eyes slid over to his smokes and he handed one
over without a word, working the Zippo some flappy-lipped customer d given him for a lap
dance out of his jeans pocket. Gen d be back by June.
He d have to decide whether or not to spend the summer watching the world in them big old
blue-green eyes or be smart and take two full summer sessions and keep on keeping on.
So he could graduate.
So he d be free.
***
The first few weeks without Dale went well enough. Oh, Gen missed him terribly, and called
him frequently, but Gen managed. There was actually a great deal of work to be done, work he
had been neglecting with Dale there. In fact, Gen had traveled the last two weeks, from Rome to
Paris, and from Paris to Brussels, making up meetings he had simply cancelled when Dale had
been at his home.
Now, though, he was home. And pining for his dancing cowboy.
Dio, Adriano. Have you heard a word I said?
Hmm? Gen turned his attention back to the phone and his cousin Alessandro, who went on and
on about some olive oil export scheme. Sorry.
You are not. What are you daydreaming about now? That little boy you re seeing?
He s hardly a little boy, now is he? Gen asked, looking out the window at the waves crashing
on the shore, feeling the chill in the air as if he was out there walking on the beach. And si, I
miss him, hmm?
Bah. You are besotted, my friend, and it makes a fool of you. Who knows what he is doing at
college with his young friends, eh?
That had his hand clenching on the phone before Gen made himself calm down and breathe. I
trust him. He would never do that. Not when he has promised to be true while we work at this
distance thing.
It is easy to promise, and easier to break.
For you, perhaps. His cousin had been married at least three times. For some of us it means
more.
If you say so. So do you wish to go in with me on this project or not?
Si, si. I will do it. Come down to Napoli next week and we will sign the papers.
Why don t you come to Palermo? his cousin asked. We could have some fun.
Gen wrinkled his nose. I don t have time. I have to leave for America on business again soon.
Business. Hmm. Is that what you call it? Any excuse to go see your American cowboy.
I am going to Chicago, not Houston. You worry too much.
I just know you and your obsessions. Very well, I will come down sometime this next week to
work out the details. Make sure you are there.
I will be. I am still a business man, cousin.
I hope so.
They rang off and Gen sat and stared at the phone for long moments, grumbling to himself. He
was not obsessed. He wasn t. He was simply in the first blush of his passion still. That was why
even as he was telling himself he was fine without Dale he was reaching for the phone. And
hoping Dale was awake.
***
Dee. Kid. C mere.
Dale wiped the sweat off his chest, neck craning to see who was calling. Fuck, it was Jorge, the
club owner, looking a little pissy. Goddamn it. If Jorge was gonna bitch about not doing a lap
dance for that grabby little fuck, he would quit. The little prick always got grabby and never
fucking tipped and then ended up jacking off which was fucking nasty. He was doing his fucking
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