Read Marie Sexton - Coda 02 - A to Z Online
Authors: Marie Sexton
The door opened and Ruby walked in. Angelo was only a few steps away from her, and she headed for him with her arms out like she was going to hug him. His reaction was completely unexpected. He practically bolted. He backed away from her so fast he tripped over his own shoes and ran into the movie display behind him. I thought for a second the whole thing would tip over. It stayed standing, but at least a dozen movies hit the floor. Stuck against the shelves with no way to back up farther, Angelo stood frozen like the metaphorical deer in the headlights as Ruby grabbed his shoulders. He looked terrified, and I fought hard to keep from laughing.
“You have positive energy all around you,” she said to him matter-of-factly. “I could feel your light through the walls of the store. You’re a bringer of life.” He stared at her in mute shock, and she patted his cheek with her wrinkled hand and then turned and walked back out.
“The neighbor. She owns the bookstore.”
“She crazy?” There wasn’t even a hint of humor in his voice.
Who would have guessed that the punk with the attitude problem was afraid of little old ladies? It was too funny for words. It actually took him a minute to get himself back together. He straightened up and took a couple of deep breaths, then shook his head as he started to pick up the movies that had fallen off of the shelf. “Puking kids, a psychic lady, and a head shop. You’re surrounded by weirdoes, Zach.”
exactly sure how I ended up workin’ at that video store, but I’m not complainin’. Funny, though, that it should happen now, when I’d finally given up on ever catchin’ that guy’s attention.
I find Zach intriguin’ for a number of reasons. First off, there’s the store, A to Z Video Rental. Somehow that place is still in business, even though every other independent store like it went under years ago. Don’t know if he’s got a brilliant head for business or if he’s just lucky. Even more surprisin’ is that he’s kept the place runnin’ when he knows zilch ’bout movies. Seriously the guy doesn’t know
The Legend of Billie Jean
from
Legends of the Fall
. I think it’s hysterical.
Second, there’s the simple fact that Zach’s cute as hell. I mean, he’s not the type I usually go for. He’s so fuckin’ preppy, sometimes I’m surprised there’s no tennis sweater draped over his shoulders. His jeans never have holes. His hair’s cut just right. His shirts always have little horses embroidered on them. And he actually wears loafers. I’ve seriously never known a guy who wore loafers before. It works for him, though.
Zach’s got dark brown hair and thick dark lashes, but the bluest eyes I ever saw. If he was ten years younger I’d call him a twink. Not sure what to call him now, since I’m pretty sure that term doesn’t apply to anybody over the age of thirty. Still, he’s not exactly hard on the eyes. In pretty good shape, too, for his age. Not big, like he wastes time liftin’ weights, but he must do somethin’, ’cause he doesn’t have any of that extra weight ’round the middle that so many guys his age have.
More important than him bein’ cute, though, is the fact that he doesn’t seem to realize it. Never knows when guys are flirtin’ with him. I’ve seen several try. Tried it myself. He never noticed. First, I thought maybe I’d read him wrong and he was straight. Then I thought maybe he was in a relationship. But the day I saw that big jock ask him out, I realized the truth—Zach’s simply oblivious. He’s so sure he’s not interesting, it never occurs to him that somebody else might think otherwise. And am I wrong, or is that just unbelievably sexy?
Anyway, too late now. That muscle-bound dickhead Tom got to him first. Tom succeeded where the rest of us failed ’cause he didn’t waste time bein’ subtle. Of course now that I’m workin’ with Zach, he’s off-limits anyway. I don’t do relationships. If I hooked up with him now, I’d have to quit the job and find a new store to rent from, and that would bum me out.
Workin’ for Zach’s easy. I mean, I watched that ditz Tracy do it before she quit showin’ up. She just sat on her ass bein’ stoned and Zach paid her. I won’t take advantage of him like that. I can get that place sorted out, and the truth is, it’s fun. Zach’s got all kinds of weird shit lyin’ ’round that store—old movies and B-movies I never seen before. And he lets me rent for free now.
a dinner date with Tom the next week. He was supposed to pick me up at the store at six. When he didn’t show up, I thought about calling, but then realized he had never even given me his number. It seemed ridiculous that I had never thought to ask for it. Even if he was nothing more than my landlord, it seemed like he should have at least left me a business card. I waited until seven before giving up and going home.
“Hey baby,” he said, as if nothing had happened.
“You’re two days late,” I said accusingly.
“Baby, I’m so—”
“My name is not ‘baby’,” I interrupted him. “It’s Zach.” I saw Angelo, who was just flipping the sign on the door to Closed, smile at that.
Behind him Angelo waved goodbye and left the store. Tom put an arm around my waist and pulled me close. “Really, Zach, I’m sorry. We had a meeting, and I couldn’t get out of it, and the battery on my cell phone died. And I know I should have called yesterday, but I was just so busy.” His hands gripped my ass and his lips were against my neck. “I’ll make it up to you, Zach. I’ll take you out tonight.” I could feel his partially erect cock, pressing against my hip. He looked into my eyes. “I can’t stand to have you mad at me, Zach. Please tell me you forgive me.”
We had dinner and then went back to my apartment. We didn’t waste any time talking. I unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off of him. His chest was covered with coarse, brown hair. Just below his right collarbone was a round mark, about the size of a quarter. I might have thought it was a birthmark, except I knew I had never seen it before. It was a hickey.
“I think I would remember,” I laughed.
“I haven’t been with anybody else.”
The fact that he was obviously seeing somebody else didn’t bother me as much as the fact that he was lying about it. At this point in our relationship, there was no reason to expect that we were being exclusive. I would have been seeing somebody else, too, given the chance. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the real reason he had stood me up two days earlier, and his dishonesty bothered me.
This time I insisted he wear a condom.
“We already did it without one once, Zach. It’s too late now.” I bit back my irritation. “I want you to use it anyway.”
Something flashed across his face—fear or disgust—it was hard to tell, it was there and gone so fast. He shook his head and took the condom from me. “Whatever you want, baby.”
“I doubt it, Zach. We’re really busy right now.” He must have sensed my disappointment, because he rolled over and kissed me. “You’re right. We don’t get to see each other enough. I’ll check my schedule first thing tomorrow and give you a call, okay?”
It was the start of Angelo’s third week, and he was quizzing me on the movies I had actually seen. So far I was about three for eighty.
“No.”
“That one’s kinda cool. That’s where lots of sayings come from. ‘Here’s lookin’ at you kid’ and ‘Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world’. And ‘Play it again, Sam’, except nobody in the movie ever says
that
exactly.”
I was going through an inventory list which Angelo was making for me. To my surprise he was turning out to be the best employee I had ever hired. Hell, he was a better employee than I was. He was still working on reorganizing all of the movies, making the inventory list—his own idea—as he worked. He certainly was enthusiastic about it. He kept finding movies that made him as excited as a kid on Christmas. Most of the time, I hadn’t heard of them. Even more surprising than his work ethic was the fact that he was great company. We got along really well. It didn’t seem like we had much in common, but somehow it worked. I hadn’t told him yet that I was gay. That was the one thing I was a little worried about.
“How ’bout
Oliver!
?”
“You mean that Disney cartoon with the dogs?”
“I don’t do musicals.”
“So I guess you never seen
The Sound of Music
, then?” “Hell, no.”
“Yeah, okay, lotsa people don’t dig musicals. What about westerns? Like Clint Eastwood? You watch his old shit, right? I mean I know you seen at least part of
Two Mules for Sister Sara
.”
“That’s the one with the trestle bridge?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s about all I remember about it.”
“What ’bout
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
?”
“Is that where he asks, ‘You feel lucky?’”
“No, that’s
Dirty Harry
.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen either one, actually.”
He whistled. “You’re missin’ out man. Clint was fuckin’ hot back then, you know? Not Dirty Harry so much. But Blondie, for sure. I think it was mostly the attitude.”
“I said, Blondie was hot.
Smokin
’ hot. Seriously fuckin’ throwdownable. ’Course, he’d have to top. No way would Blondie bottom for anybody.” I sat there, stunned, and he finally turned and looked at me. I must have been looking at him like he had just sprouted another head, because he dropped the DVD he was holding. “What?”
He shook his head at me. “Un-fuckin’-believable, Zach.” He laughed, like I had just said something really funny, as he turned back to what he was doing. “You crack me up.” I didn’t have the nerve to ask him what I had done that was so funny. It didn’t matter, though. He was already talking about movies again. “How ’bout
A Streetcar Named Desire
? Brando was kinda hot, too, back then. ’Course, he’s a fuckin’ rapist. I mean his character. Not him. And Blanche
was
a total bitch. I bet all you remember is him yellin’ ‘Stella!’”
It was almost time to close and I was surprised at my disappointment. I was enjoying talking to him. Going home to my empty apartment definitely didn’t sound appealing. “What are you doing tonight?” I asked him before I had a chance to second guess myself.
He looked up at me, surprised. “I gotta work tonight, but ’til then, I got no plans.” He had a night job at the gas station down the street—eleven at night until five in the morning, on weeknights. Then he would work with me from eleven until we closed, six on weeknights, and eight on Saturdays. I would have been a basket case if I worked that much, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“No!”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, what?”
I bit back the urge to say that Tom wasn’t my boyfriend. Somehow “boyfriend” implied that I actually knew something about him, other than that he talked dirty during sex. “No.”
Angelo immediately walked over to the counter to help him. “Hey, Justin. I got it right here.” He pulled a movie out from under the counter. “Knew you were comin’ tonight.”