The driver stared down at the shirt in Gage’s hand and said, “Are you sure? That looks like a very expensive shirt, and mine is just an old plaid thing I should have thrown out a long time ago.” The shirt Gage had handed him was a soft gray-and-black stripe, with tailored cuffs and a starched collar.
“I insist,” Gage said. “I want you to have it. I kind of like the idea of wearing your old shirt home. It makes me feel safe and warm, and it will give me something to remember you by.” And though he didn’t admit this to the driver, Gage loved knowing he was helping someone out by handing out Luis’s clothes for free. Gage had seen shirts like this in expensive Manhattan department stores and he’d gazed at the vulgarity with his mouth hanging open. He knew Luis had probably paid at least five hundred dollars for it, if not more. This was obscene, in Gage’s opinion, especially when there were people starving all over the world. Gage couldn’t think of a better way to thank the dark, sexy, hardworking taxi driver than by giving him this ridiculous shirt, compliments of his wretched, spoiled brother, Luis.
On the way back to the Upper West Side, they ignored regulations and Gage sat up front with the driver. No one saw Gage sitting up front because his body was down and his head was resting across the taxi driver’s lap so he could gently massage the driver’s nuts. It had been Gage’s idea, not the driver’s. But when the driver heard Gage make the offer, he smiled and told him to get up front.
When they reached Luis’s and Jase’s home on 95th Street, the driver reached across and pulled a small pad and pencil out of a small compartment beneath the dashboard. He wrote something down fast and handed it to Gage. “This is my name and phone number. Would you like to give me yours?”
Gage blinked. He hadn’t expected this turn of events. He took the piece of paper from the driver’s hand and slipped it into his back pocket without looking at the driver’s name and without offering to tell the driver his name. “I’m a little surprised,” Gage said. “I figured you were either married to a woman, sneaking around on the down low, or had a lover.”
The handsome driver smiled and shrugged. “None of the above.” Either his accent wasn’t as strong now, or Gage wasn’t paying attention to it anymore. “I’m a part-time student, studying acting at The Actor’s Studio, and I work full time driving this taxi to make money. I have two roommates and we share an apartment in the East Village.”
Gage frowned. “I see,” he said. “Look, I can’t give you my number right now. I’m going to be busy for the next month, and maybe longer. I don’t know yet. I’m going through something complicated right now in my life I can’t talk about.”
The driver smiled and lifted his arms. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s cool, man. I understand. No need to explain any further.”
But Gage could see he didn’t understand. The expression on the driver’s face suggested either polite defeat or a trained actor taking rejection well. “You don’t understand,” Gage said. “I’m not lying to you. I want to give you my number and I want to tell you more about me. But I can’t right now, and I’m not sure when I will be able to again.” He leaned across the seat and kissed him again. No one had ever made him feel this confused this fast, not even his first love, Snake.
“Let’s do this,” the driver said. “You call me when you can. We leave it open for right now.”
Gage smiled. “You’re not mad I won’t give you my number?”
The guy smiled. “Not at all. We don’t even know each other.” He grabbed Gage by the back of the neck and kissed him hard one last time. So hard that when his tongue entered Gage’s mouth, Gage’s pants started getting tight again. Then he drew back and said, “No questions asked.”
Gage smiled and opened the door to get out. He checked his pocket to make sure Luis’s keys were there and said, “Thank you for tonight, and I’m not just talking about what we did in the back seat. I’m talking about how nice you were.”
The driver smiled and said, “You don’t have to thank me for that, or for anything.”
Gage laughed. “If you knew my life right now, you’d understand.” Then he tapped the roof and shut the door.
The driver watched as Gage jogged up the front steps, as if making certain Gage was safe from harm. He waited for Gage to unlock the front door and step into the front hallway of Jase’s and Luis’s house. When Gage opened the door, there were no beeps or sirens: Luis hadn’t bothered to set the security system, which didn’t surprise Gage. Luis never paid attention to details like this; he trusted everyone. The only sound Luis heard came from the barking bald dog hopping down the front staircase.
As Gage closed the front door, he turned sideways and waved at the driver. The driver waved back, honked the horn, and took off with a light screech that caused a gentle tug in Gage’s stomach. Gage wondered if he’d ever see him again. He wondered why he couldn’t have met this wonderful guy just one night earlier. If he had, it might have changed everything.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, a sunny, crisp New York dream, Gage unfolded himself from Luis’s silky white sheets and went down to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. The ugly little hairless dog they called Camp—of all things to name such an ugly dog—barked and snarled at him. The skinny little runt even ran up to the edge of the bed, grabbed a sock that belonged to Luis that Gage had been wearing, and shook it back and forth. But when Gage went down to the kitchen to make the coffee, he found a box of sugar cookies in the pantry and gave the dog a handful. After that, although the dog kept sending him wary sideways glances, the creepy little thing stopped snarling and growling. Gage decided to keep a few cookies in his pocket at all times just in case he needed them.
Before he showered that morning, he sat down at a Chippendale desk in Luis’s bedroom and went over a few details about Luis’s life. Thankfully, Luis had left his computer on and he was already signed in to his e-mail account. Gage figured he’d focus on the most important things in Luis’s life first, and he’d worry about the rest later. At this point his only goal was to pass as Luis, without saying too much to anyone who knew Luis well. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. The fact that Luis wasn’t doing any modeling jobs for a while would help Gage, because Gage knew nothing about modeling and he knew it would have been impossible to pull something like that off without a great deal of rehearsal first. Gage decided to take it all one step at a time, and the most important thing he had to worry about that weekend was finding out where Luis’s and Jase’s country house, Cider Mill Farm, was located in Pennsylvania and get there before Jase and Hunter arrived from Alaska later that evening.