I looked away.
“For how long?” I replied, voice deadened with too much emotion.
“What do you mean?”
I laughed bitterly. “How long until you leave?” Vic was supposed to be gone a week ago. He was on borrowed time.
Pain crossed Vic’s features at my words. Causing Vic pain hurt worse than if I’d cut myself with a letter opener. I felt his pain more clearly than I felt my own. Seeing him hurt from my words was torment, but I couldn’t pretend anymore.
He was leaving.
Vic stood up from the chair he’d called home for the past day and sat himself between my legs. He reached for my hands and grasped the palms tightly. I watched everything like a bystander, still unwilling to feel any emotion.
“Never. I’ll never leave you, Lennox.” Looking in to his black eyes I could see the stark sincerity. He believed he would never leave me.
I let myself be pulled in to his embrace. I let him hold me as he stroked my hair. I let myself be comforted by him. It felt more than good to be back in his arms.
It felt right.
We walked up the stairs and away from the living room, away from our troubles.
I guess we were back to secrets and lies.
Turns out starting a business isn’t that difficult. All I had to do was pay seventy dollars and fill out a few forms online.
Running a business, however, is a lot harder than starting one. I stared at the LLC papers in my hands with simultaneous awe and terror. I needed an accountant, and I needed employees, and I needed a lawyer to help me with all of this. I had the LLC, though. I was officially a small business owner.
I was what all the fuss was about. I was what they talked about on the news. I was what was dividing the nation.
Go, me.
Lissie and Zoe were meeting me in an hour to talk. They had no idea what I was going to ask them. It was a pretty huge thing: “Hey, wanna ditch your salaried and secure jobs and join my shaky startup business?” I needed to work on my pitch.
I sat down in a small restaurant and ordered a Screwdriver. It was only ten-thirty in the morning, but I told myself I was celebrating. In reality, I had butterflies the size of beetles in my stomach. As I waited for my drink, I looked around.
The restaurant was seaside. It was a little touristy, but that didn’t mean the food wasn’t exceptional. It was an Armenian bistro known for its delicious breakfast lamb specials, but it also served waffles and pancakes. You’ve got to serve waffles and pancakes or stuffy tourists won’t come to your place.
The smell of sea salt filled my nostrils. Even though it was still morning, there was no marine layer. The sun shone bright and yellow on the beach. I was at an outside table underneath a big, kitschy umbrella. Rays of sunlight slipped past the umbrella’s guard, hitting my ankles and wrists, instantly warming me. It was peaceful. Unlike home.
“You’re leaving?”
“Come with me. Come with me, Lenny, I can show you the world.”
“You’re leaving.”
“I don’t have a choice!”
“You said you’d never leave.”
As the server brought my drink, I pushed away the memories. Vic was leaving in only a few days. Our relationship was crumbling and I was doing everything I could to not crumble along with it.
Zoe and Lissie walked up. We exchanged hugs and pleasantries, we mused about how much we liked the restaurant, and then we got down to ordering our meals. Through the whole thing, I didn’t once bring up why I’d asked them to brunch. As far as they knew, we were just hanging out. It wasn’t until the server was clearing our plates and Lissie was contemplating the dessert menu that I cleared my throat. I was ready to get to the point.
They listened to me pitch my business, rapt with attention though their faces betrayed nothing. We had long since paid our bill and tipped our waiter, but I was still talking.
“Look,” I continued. “The only reason I was able to throw such an amazing party for Regal was because I had help from you guys. I would really love it if you guys came on and did this with me,” I finished. I felt like I’d just put myself on display to a bunch of perverts. I know these were my best friends, not perverts, but that’s how vulnerable I felt.
“I’m not salaried,” Zoe said, taking a sip from her nearly empty Mimosa. “I freelance and am contracted to a few places. But basically, I’m self-employed,”