The Imperfection of Swans (5 page)

Kevin nodded and took a sip of his drink to avoid speaking.

Another gleaming smile. “And you, Kev? Are you happy? Seeing anyone?”

This time a bit of the Americano did spill. Kevin wiped it up with a napkin. “Can we not do this?”

Scott had the impudence to look innocent. “What? I just want to know you’re okay. I care about you.”

Kevin snorted. “Right. That concern was obvious when you served me divorce papers out of the blue right after agreeing to be my backer in business. All for that guido twink. What’s his name? Carmine? Vincent? How’s he doing? Spread-eagle as always, I assume?”

“Joe.” Scott took a deep breath of his own. “And that didn’t work out. He was a little too… clingy.”

“Well, that
is
shocking news.” A tension headache was building behind his eyes. He hated feeling this way. Hated the sound of Scott’s voice.

“Kevin, you asked
me
here. As a favor.” He reached toward Kevin’s hand and then seemed to think better of it. “Do you need me to leave, or are you finally looking for closure?”

Closure. Fuck him.

Another deep breath.

Exhale.

“Sorry.” How that word seemed to scratch his throat on the way out. “You’re right. I did ask you. Thank you for giving me your lunch hour.”

Scott smiled once more, this one a bit less plastic Ken doll. “Want to just dive into it, then? Maybe less painful for both of us that way.”

As if Scott felt any pain about their past.

Kevin nearly launched into another diatribe, but a glow from the windows of a certain brownstone began to grow in his mind.

“Good idea.” Now that the moment was upon him, the tension began to build for an entirely different reason. If this didn’t go well, there was little hope for the dress shop coming into being. Maybe no hope. And of course it would be Scott who was pivotal. And so far, things weren’t going well.

“Remember that dream of mine? That wedding dress shop you’d agreed to support me with? That little old thing? Well—” Kevin bit his tongue, took another breath, and adjusted his bitter tone. “Sorry.” He took a small drink. Nothing spilled. He forced himself to meet Scott’s blue gaze for the first time. “May I start again?”

Scott nodded, his expression unreadable.

Another breath. Good God, when had it become so damn hard to even breathe? “So, there’s this brownstone that’s about to come on the market. In the South End. I haven’t seen in it yet, but from the outside, it’s exactly what I’ve been dreaming of. Maybe even better.” His throat closed up for a second. The possibility of it all seemed too good to be true. Too foolish of a dream.

Scott’s voice sounded genuinely apologetic. “Kev, you know I’d love to help.” He cleared his throat. “Well, maybe you don’t, but I would. However, I can only imagine how much a place like that would cost. I don’t have the resources to back that. When we were together, splitting the mortgage, two-income household—”

Kevin cut him off. “No. Goodness, no. That’s not what I’m suggesting. Give me a second. Let me get this out.”

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

It had to be a good sign that Scott was acting genuinely kind, but it grated on Kevin’s nerves. Made him want to lash out.

“I need help with a loan. That’s all. The moms and Beatrice, Francesca, and Anthony are all going to take out second mortgages to get a sizable down payment. And I have some in savings. Enough to be a good down payment on a house, not enough for something like this.”

Scott waited for a moment, maybe making sure Kevin was done. “And, you’re what? Just wanting me to push the loan through?”

Kevin nodded.

This time Scott’s laugh had a touch of bitterness in it as well. “So you did pay attention. I never thought you understood what an underwriter does.”

“I have a rough idea. I can’t say I totally understand.”

“And no posters or PowerPoint presentations?” Scott leaned forward, peering beside where Kevin sat, as if looking for hidden prompts. “I’d have expected more from you.”

The heat rising to his cheeks made him angry, but Kevin pushed the emotion away. “There isn’t time. The building isn’t on the market, but soon will be. This all has to happen quickly.”

Scott’s eyes narrowed. “When did you say you inspected this brownstone?”

“I haven’t, remember?” This wasn’t going to work. Scott was going to say no. “I just saw it the night before last.”

“Seriously? It’s not even been two days and you’re just jumping into this? Sylvie is going to flip her shit.”

“I told her yesterday.”

“Holy fuck.” Scott gaped at him, an unfamiliar look in his eyes. “Who are you? You don’t even pick out new shoes without a week of deliberation.”

If only he knew the answer to that question. “It’s now or never.”

Scott continued to inspect him in silence.

Probably never.

It took all of Kevin’s willpower to keep silent and not throw himself away from the table.

At last, Scott let out a breath and nodded. “Okay. So here’s how this will work. I will have a loan officer contact you today. If you really need this to happen fast, we have to get the paperwork going today. Give me everyone else’s numbers, and I’ll have her contact them to get the seconds all going as well. You haven’t tried to put in an offer yet, have you?”

The world stopped spinning. There were no noises to be heard. Even Kevin’s heart quit beating. It must have. And nothing Scott had just said made any sense at all.

“Kev?” This time Scott did touch Kevin’s hand. “Are you okay?”

Kevin looked down, seeing Scott’s perfectly manicured hands covering his own. He didn’t want to pull away, so he didn’t. Tearing his gaze away from their hands, he looked up at Scott’s concerned face. “Did you just say yes?”

He smiled. “Yeah. We can do this.”

“Will you get into trouble?”

Scott shrugged and then shook his head. “My job is to make sure the bank doesn’t lose money or take on overly risky loans. If it were anyone else, there’s no way I’d let this slip by my desk. No past business history. A multimillion-dollar property. Whatever the start-up costs are going to be. I can’t even imagine.” He shook his head in wonder. “Actually, I can. You’ll probably need a couple hundred thousand outside the cost of property to keep you afloat and help get the place how you want it. There’s no way this loan should be approved, but I’m not exactly breaking any laws if I sign off on it either. And then Angie, the loan officer I’ll hook you and the family up with, will owe me big-time for the commission she’ll get from all these.”

“You’re really saying yes?” Kevin’s brain was sort of coming back to life. Kinda.

“I do have one caveat, though. And you’ll need to be okay with this for me to be willing. You and your family.”

He’d known it was too good.

Scott removed his hand from covering Kevin’s. Its absence left a chill. “For this to look at all on the up-and-up, the money from your family can’t just be gifts for the down payment. I’ll need them to all be on the loan with you. In other words, they would be owners in the business as well. It wouldn’t only be your business.”

Though he didn’t love the idea of that, it was a small price to pay in the scheme of things. “Okay. I can handle that.”

“Okay, good to know that you didn’t completely comprehend what I do and what it means.” Scott’s grin reemerged. “That’s not the only aspect that matters. It has to be okay with your family too. What that means is, by each one of them being co-owners, if you default on the loan or the business fails, each of them will be fiscally responsible as well.”

Maybe his brain still wasn’t quite back up to speed. “I don’t get the difference.”

“Well, if they just gave you the money as a gift or informal loan, and the shop doesn’t make it and you can’t pay back the loan, the bank is shit out of luck. Your family would just lose the money they’d gifted. As owners, they’re responsible for the entirety of the loan too. The bank can hold each of them responsible for repayment of the loan.”

“Oh.” So his dream could cost half of his family everything if it failed. Suddenly the air seemed to be exiting the coffee shop. He already knew they’d say yes. The real question was if he was truly selfish enough to let them take that risk just so he could open his shop.

He already knew the answer to that as well.

“Actually, Kev, there’s one more thing that would make this loan look better.”

Unable to form words, Kevin nodded for Scott to continue.

“Your debt to income is going to be ridiculous, obliviously. We need to cut down your expenses that aren’t associated with the business. How much are you paying for rent?”

“Thirty-six hundred a month.”

“Hmm, that’s actually a little less than I figured for Beacon Hill, but still.”

“It’s okay. Mom already brought that up. My lease is up in December, anyway. Perfect timing, really.” Another wave of claustrophobia rolled over Kevin. “It looks like I’m moving back home for the foreseeable future.”

CASPER

CASPER MADE
it until four in the afternoon before he could take no more. He tossed the last load of laundry onto his bed, grabbed his winter clothes, and ran down the two flights of rickety stairs. He knew he’d regret it when he got back home and wanted to fall into bed and had a pile of clothes waiting to be folded and put away. Whatever. He’d just scoot them onto the floor, or sleep on top of them for all he cared. Anything to get out of the house.

Living with four other people was never easy, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure why he had ever thought having three of those people in school getting their degrees in music theory, conducting, and the like would be a good idea. Oh, right. Money. At least the fourth roommate was another chef, so he was rarely there. But the other three… you’d think they were never in school. Always clacking around on their keyboards, running scales, playing some long-dead piece of music. Even when they weren’t practicing, they were whistling, humming, and drumming their fingers on any available hard surface. They couldn’t seem to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without the need to make noise. And he was only halfway through a two-year lease. What was wrong with him?

Oh, yeah. That again. Money. He could use all the money he’d been saving by living with roommates the majority of his adult life to get his own spot. He could. But that money was for bigger things than a place to live. It was for his dream. To make his life the way he really wanted it.

However, maybe it wasn’t worth it. Another off-tune hummed sonata and Casper was going to find out how much damage he could do with a music stand until the police were called.

Stepping out into the frigid December day, he slammed the red door behind him with as much force as he could muster. He glanced up at the sky, cloudy and already giving in to the hue of evening. One day off in two weeks, and he’d missed the whole damned thing catching up on chores and listening to the three most annoying people in Beacon Hill. No. In the world. The most annoying people in the entire world.

He’d barely made it a block before an older woman bumped into him, knocking him off balance. “Geesh, watch where you’re going, lady.”

She muttered a quick apology.

Casper pulled his jacket tighter with a huff, took another two steps, and then stopped.

Who the hell was this person? It couldn’t be him. He’d never spoken to anyone like that. Especially some old grandma. He peered sheepishly over his shoulder. The woman was still hobbling down the sidewalk.

In a few long strides, he caught up to her and lightly touched her arm.

She looked over at him and flinched, eyes wide.

“Madam, I’m so sorry. I’m not myself today. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She mumbled something that was indiscernible. She still looked afraid.

Really looking at her, Casper realized she was probably homeless or a little off mentally. Something wasn’t quite right. “Really, I’m so very sorry. May I buy you a cup of coffee or something?”

The lady only shook her head but looked slightly less panicked.

Casper noticed her shivering. She had on a dirty woolen jacket but nothing else winter related. On impulse he unwound his navy blue scarf and slipped it over her neck.

Again she flinched but said nothing.

In two swift yanks, he removed his gloves and held them out to her. “Please, madam, take these as an apology. Again, I am so sorry. It’s too cold to be out and about without a scarf and gloves.”

She still didn’t respond, but she flicked her gaze to his, quickly took the gloves, and began to trundle away once more.

He watched her for several seconds, both concerned about her well-being and also repulsed by himself. The breeze finally drew his attention away from the woman. Casper hadn’t been exaggerating; it was too cold to be outside in anything less than winter gear.

The red door was visible from where he stood. For a moment, he considered going back in and retrieving another scarf and pair of gloves. The clacking of a keyboard reached his ears, whether actually drifting down from a window or from his own imagining, he wasn’t certain.