EVERYTHING was done in secret. Gio had been picturing a trial of sorts, where he’d get to face his accuser and more than one person decided his fate. Instead, he kept running into former students, colleagues, and parents in the hallways at the school. They’d give him sheepish looks, say hello, and then scurry away.
The worst was the day Mike was called to meet with the school administration. He came by Gio’s office first, and he was ghastly pale and shaking so badly that Gio didn’t know how to help him calm down. He kicked his door closed and hugged Mike tightly, hoping his embrace would make the shaking stop.
It didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” Mike said. “I’m about to go fuck everything up.”
“You won’t.”
“I will. I… I can’t shake this idea that we’ll lose. You’ll get fired. Emma will get thrown out. I’m a terrible failure as a parent.”
“You are not. Stop that right now.” Mike was in his bad place, that was certain, and Gio didn’t know how to reach in there and pull him out. He stroked Mike’s back. “You are a great father. I know you love her tremendously and want good things for her, and you do everything you can for her. Including this.”
Mike nodded, his cheek rubbing against Gio’s hair. “I don’t know when I’ve ever been this nervous.”
“I know, caro. Come back here afterwards and I’ll take you to get a beer.”
Mike backed away and reached for the door.
“I love you,” Gio said. “I feel like I’ve been saying that three times a day for the past week, but I can’t seem to stop myself.”
Mike smiled briefly. “I don’t get tired of hearing it. I love you too.”
“Good. Now go.”
Gio spent a nerve-racking half hour at his desk, pretending to work but actually fretting about what might be going on in the administrative offices upstairs.
It felt strange to be worried more about other people than he was about himself. As a performer, he’d always been selfish, wanting his own success more than he wanted that of his friends. He figured the only reason he and Dacia were still close friends was because they’d never had to compete with each other for a part. Lord knew enough of his romantic relationships had ended when his lover had accused him of caring only for himself. He could admit that was true; when he’d been young, the most important thing had been his voice. Now that he had no voice, he supposed that was no longer true. But there was more to it than that, as well.
As he analyzed possible outcomes, he realized he didn’t care much what happened to him—he’d be sad to lose the job if that was indeed what the administration ruled, but he was certain he’d find something else. However, he did care a great deal about what happened to Mike and Emma. He was shaken by how upset Mike was. He would have been angry on Emma’s behalf if she lost this spot she deserved over the girl whose mother was bullying the school. He wanted good things to happen to these people he had grown to love so much in such a short amount of time.
Perhaps that was what love was really about. He cared about what happened to his loved ones more than he cared about himself.
Just as he had this epiphany, Mike reappeared at his doorway. He wasn’t shaking any longer, but his eyes were wide and he was frowning.
“How did it go?” Gio asked, standing.
Mike motioned for him to sit back down, and then he slid the door closed. “It was… well. Not the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
“What happened?”
Mike sat in the guest chair. “Before or after they accused me of seducing you to get my daughter accepted at the Olcott School?”
Gio’s heart went out to him. “Oh, Mike.”
Mike grunted. “I told them the truth. That, yeah, it looked strange that you and I are dating, under the circumstances, and I understood why they were suspicious, but that my intentions were honorable. I pointed out that you took yourself off the audition committee so your relationship with me wouldn’t influence the outcome. And I argued that Emma totally deserves a spot in the program, because she’s really, really good. That guy who’s head of the voice department? Mr. Laughton?”
“Yes.”
“He said he’d heard Emma sing himself and he could, uh, ‘vouch for her talent’ is what he said. So I think it went okay. Not a complete disaster, anyway.”
“Still. I’m sure it was not pleasant to be accused of using sex to get your way.”
Mike rubbed his forehead. “You know what would be nice? If just once sex didn’t matter. My sexuality has been this thing hanging over my head my whole fucking life. It alienated me from my family, it got me kicked out of the army, and now it could jeopardize my daughter’s future. But it shouldn’t matter. My desires have nothing to do with any of those things.”
Mike sounded completely exasperated. Gio didn’t know what to say. He agreed, and he felt for Mike, but he couldn’t figure out how to comfort him.
He stood and walked around his desk. Mike stood too. So Gio hugged him, because that seemed like a thing to do. Mike hugged him back.
“This is the only way it does matter,” Mike said. “With the door closed. With you in my arms.”
“It will be all right,” Gio said. He almost sounded like he believed it.
“I don’t….” Mike sniffed. “You know what I realized when I was sitting up there? All week, I couldn’t stop obsessing over this and how, you know, it’s always the Tracy Quinlans of the world who win. She can afford to win. I can’t. But you know what? I’m sick of losing to people like her. And I decided that I couldn’t let her win. I couldn’t let her just come in here and tell these lies and get her way. Emma deserves this. She’s worked really hard to get this far and she should have that spot.”
“I agree, caro. She deserves it.”
“I can’t let her beat you, either. You deserve this job. You deserve your good reputation, your integrity, the life you have now. She shouldn’t be able to take that away from you.”
Mike tightened his grip on Gio. It was a little overwhelming, being held in a grasp like that, but it was wonderful too. Gio could feel all of the emotion pulsing through Mike, could feel his muscles practically vibrate. He could feel Mike’s indignation, his anger, his frustration. He felt all those things in his chest as well.
Gio had been bred for this life, practically; many of his first opportunities had been handed to him because his mother had once been a prima donna. But he and Emma had one thing in common, which was the gift of a talent so remarkable it could take them places not everyone could go. Gio had been around elite musicians long enough to know that often talent triumphed, but sometimes money did too.
“If something happens,” Gio said, “we’ll figure it out. I will do whatever I can to help Emma. All right?”
Mike leaned his forehead against Gio’s. “I know. Thank you.”
Gio sighed and leaned into Mike. Then, with some reluctance, he pulled away. “I bet you’d like that beer now.”
THE beer was at a gay bar on the northern end of the Theater District that didn’t serve food, which was maybe a mistake, because Mike realized as he finished his first drink that he hadn’t eaten all day.
Gio had only had a few sips of his vodka tonic, and he kept staring at it as if it tasted funny but he couldn’t figure out why.
It had been that sort of day. But Mike reasoned that now that his brain was starting to swim around in his head, maybe he could stop reliving that half hour he’d spent talking to the Olcott School administration.
Because a lot of shitty things had happened in Mike’s life, and generally he preferred not to dwell on them. Pushing all of it aside left Mike with a lot of anger sometimes. This situation was maybe the worst, because Mike’s ethics and integrity had been called into question. Always in the past, he’d felt like he’d had that on his side. The army policy was wrong, Mike’s father was a bigot, Evan had saved the life of a child at the expense of his own. Mike could deal with these things and still stand tall. But those administrators had shamed him, had implied he’d done something morally wrong. He still didn’t believe that he had, but doubt had crept in. What if he had? What if it was his own fault for setting his sights so high? What if he was at fault for wanting things he couldn’t have? There was a moment during the questioning when he’d felt no better than dog shit on the bottom of the school president’s shiny polished shoe.
Was it worth it? He was putting his core beliefs on the line for… what? For Gio? For sex? For love?
He turned to Gio, whom he’d come to love so much so quickly, and he reached for his hand. Gio took Mike’s hand and smiled.
“My name still counts for a lot, you know,” Gio said. “That is, if the school does not take Emma, I will coach her. I will teach her to be la prima donna. If she doesn’t get into this program, maybe next year she auditions for Juilliard. They have a similar program for teenage musicians.”
Mr. Laughton had escorted Mike out of the room as the hearing had ended and whispered softly, “I believe you. I’ve heard Emma sing. I’ll do what I can.” Mike had found that somewhat comforting. But it wasn’t a guarantee.
He looked at his own hand, wrapped around Gio’s, and then he looked up at Gio. Their eyes met. He asked himself again if it was worth it. Was having to endure being accused of something vile—of being shamed into thinking there was something bad or wrong with his relationship, or that he’d used his sexuality to get what he wanted, that he was just as bad as Tracy Quinlan because he’d used his assets to advance his kid—worth the reward? Was having to get through that half hour when he felt like the very foundation under his feet had been pulled out from under him worth this moment here with Gio?
He couldn’t speak for a moment, couldn’t find a way to articulate what he was thinking and feeling, didn’t know how to get answers. He looked into Gio’s dark, intense eyes and started to say, “Gio, I need….” Although he didn’t know what he needed.
Gio kissed him. And there. That was it. This was what he needed. He had to know this connection with Gio was a real thing, that he loved and was loved in return, that maybe a half hour of shame was worth a lifetime of happiness if only he could find a way to make all the moving parts in his life come together. Maybe all this would work out and Emma would keep her spot and go on to great things. Maybe she’d get kicked out but get into another school. Maybe Gio’s teaching would be enough to get her where she wanted to go. And, of course, there was always the possibility that she’d get to college and decide to be a doctor or a lawyer or some other thing and leave singing behind.
Was it selfish to say that, yes, being with Gio was worth all of it?
“Mike,” Gio whispered against his mouth. “I feel like I’m losing you.”
“I’m sorry. How do you say that in Italian? Mi dispiace.” Mike was probably totally mispronouncing it, but he wanted to try the Italian, thought maybe it would bring him and Gio closer if he learned it. He leaned back. He squeezed Gio’s hand. “I was trying to decide if I’d change anything that happened this summer. If all this could have been avoided if I’d made different decisions. Like, maybe I shouldn’t have come to the classes every day. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you out so soon.”
“Caro, it would not have made a difference. Tracy Quinlan’s daughter would have gotten a rejection and she probably would have found some other reason to go after Emma or one of the other students in the class. She would have found some way to ruin something to get her daughter ahead.”
For the first time all day, Mike found himself really smiling. “Gio. I would not have changed a thing.”
Gio laughed softly and kissed Mike again.
Mike wasn’t sure if the wave of wooziness was due to the heady feeling of kissing the man he loved, or the alcohol, or the lack of food, or all three, but he suddenly got very dizzy. He pulled away from Gio and put his hands on the table. “Maybe I should get something to eat,” he said. “Do you have to go back to school?”
“Not really. I wouldn’t get anything done anyway. Too much on my mind.”
“Right. So?”
“There’s an Italian place across the street. It’s not quite authentic, and they drown all of their dishes in marinara the way all Americans do, but—”
“Gio.” Mike laughed. “Let’s just go there. I’m the sort of uncouth American who likes a lot of red sauce.”
Gio laughed too. He kissed Mike’s forehead. “All right. Have it your way, amore mio.”