Chapter Eight

‘I’m gray ace.’

The words echoed in Stuart’s ears as he diced red onions. It was the morning of the CEC event. His staff had the prep work under control and had seemed confused when he’d said he was going to help.

Stuart doing prep cook work was completely unnecessary, but mindless cooking tasks had always helped clear his head. He found it meditative. Right now, his brain could use all the help it could get.

Ever since his conversation with Malcolm the other night, his mind had been whirling with the news Malcolm had given him. No question about it, he was thrilled Malcolm was interested in dating him. Despite Stuart’s bold words stating that they could make things up as they went along, he felt anything but bold right now.

He wanted to date Malcolm. He simply had no idea how to.

Stuart had gone home that night and pored for hours through online articles and websites about gray asexuality and demisexuality. Unfortunately, they had left him more confused than ever. The only thing that was clear from his research was that the experience of being gray ace varied wildly from person to person.

Which of course made sense, but it would have been nice to have something more concrete to work with. How was he supposed to know what to do and say so he didn’t fuck it up?

Thankfully, Malcolm hadn’t seemed offended when he’d said, ‘It sounds like you don’t have sex much,’ but Stuart had regretted the words as soon as they’d left his mouth. What had he been thinking? Malcolm had been telling him that it wasn’t all about sex to him and what had Stuart done? Made it all about sex.

Stuart couldn’t deny he was relieved that Malcolm didn’t find sex repulsive. Because Stuart wasn’t sure he could date someone who did. And that made him feel like a pig despite Malcolm’s reassurances that he wasn’t one.

“What did that onion ever do to you?”

Stuart turned to see Marisol staring at him with an amused expression. He glanced down at the cutting board to see that the onion had gone way past a fine dice and even past minced. It was practically a paste. “Shit.”

Although muscle memory had kept his fingers out from under the blade, he admitted he shouldn’t be working with knives while he was thinking about this situation with Malcolm. With a sigh, he scraped the mangled onion into the bin, then placed his knife and board near the sink to be washed.

“You need to talk?” Marisol said with a pointed glance. Dressed in street clothes and with her hair down, she looked less serious and businesslike than when she was on the clock. Her expression spelled out how serious she was right now.

Stuart sighed. “If you’ve got the time.”

“Get your ass to my office and we’ll straighten whatever this is out.” She turned and left the kitchen without another word, which was just as well. There was no arguing with Marisol when she started ordering him around.

Stuart glanced at the man across the line from him. “James?”

The garde manger chef glanced up from his own prep work.

“Someone’s going to need to dice more red onion because I decimated mine. I’ll be in Marisol’s office if you need anything, but I’ll be ready to leave in an hour, like we discussed earlier.”

“Yes, Chef.”

Marisol was seated at her desk when he walked through her door and shut it behind him. She had two glasses of rye whiskey set out. This wasn’t the first heart-to-heart over a drink they’d shared throughout the years, though they didn’t typically take place at this hour of the day.

“What’s up with the onion paste?” she asked after they’d clinked glasses.

Stuart chuckled into his drink. Marisol was a whiz with a knife, but she wasn’t one to mince words. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“I’d worked that much out. Guy trouble?”

“Yes?”

“You don’t sound too sure about that. Is it that you’re not sure if he’s a guy or you’re not sure if he’s trouble?”

“Malcolm is definitely a guy.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Malcolm. He’s the guy from CEC you’ve been dealing with, right?”

“Yeah. We’ve been… Well, we’ve been getting to know each other outside of planning for the event.”

“And by getting to know each other you mean you’ve been having copious amounts of sex?”

“Ah, no. The confusion comes in there.”

“Stuart.” She leveled him with a look. “Am I going to have to keep dragging answers out of you or are you going to tell me what’s transpired between you two?”

Stuart didn’t know why he was having such difficulty getting it all out. Marisol knew the dark, ugly side of his past with Becky—she was the only person he’d ever told about his lingerie kink outside of a few men he’d dated—and Stuart was damn sure he could trust her. So, he took a deep breath and let it all spill out. The dates that he wasn’t sure were dates. The trip out to Staten Island to help rebuild Kim’s steps. Telling Malcolm about his past. Malcolm telling him about his sexuality.

Marisol sat back with a frown when he was done. Marisol’s wife was transgender, and over the years, Stuart and Marisol had discussed how complex sexual and gender identities could be and the various complications they could add to relationships. At least to his knowledge, neither Marisol nor Stuart had been involved with someone who was ace or demisexual before.

“Okay. Well, does it change how you feel about him?” she asked.

“No! Not at all. Actually, it helps me understand him a lot better. I’m a sexual guy though. I’ve had way more sexual encounters in my life than long-term relationships, and now I feel like I have no idea what I could offer Malcolm. If Malcolm’s confused about how he feels about sex, the natural solution would be for me to help guide him, right? But how? How can I guide Malcolm if I have no idea how to do it? I’m completely out of my league.”

She hummed. “I can see why that might be overwhelming.”

“The last time I had a relationship that didn’t begin with sex was with Becky!” he continued. “Ever since, I’ve used sex as a way to connect to people. With Malcolm, it would be the other way around. And I’m totally floundering, trying to figure out how to move forward. I also worry that I won’t get it right. I want to be able to give him what he needs and go slow and be patient as we figure this out, but I’m afraid I’m going to fuck it all up,” he admitted. He took another sip of his drink, enjoying the smooth, dark honey notes in it. Focusing on the flavors kept his panic from rising any higher.

Marisol snorted. “You probably are.”

He gave her a sour look. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m just saying there are no guarantees in dating,” she said with a shrug. “No one ever gets it right all of the time.”

“This feels bigger than usual.”

“Because you’ve never dated someone who is on the ace spectrum before or because Malcolm matters more to you than anyone else has before?”

Stuart froze with his glass halfway to his lips as her words hit home. “Both? I think?”

She smiled at him. “Maybe you’d better think hard about that second part for a while. It seems to me that’s what has your head spinning.”

“You’re probably right about that.”

“Just…don’t chop any onions while you’re thinking, okay? I can’t have a fingerless sous chef. That would be bad for business.”

He smiled. Marisol wasn’t the warm fuzzy type. From her, that was practically a declaration of her affection. A listening ear, some choice words of advice and a drink topped off with a dollop of tough love were her flavor of friendship. Stuart valued it all.

“Thanks for the drink and the talk,” he said as he stood.

“Any time.” She grinned up at him. “Now, go knock the donors’ socks off at this event. Wow ’em with the old Stuart Morgan charm and bring them into my restaurant after they write fat checks to CEC.”

Stuart laughed. “Yes, Chef.”

 

* * * *

 

“Watch the serving trays like a hawk all night,” Stuart instructed the servers. “Don’t wait until one is two-thirds empty to refill it. I want them full at all times. We’re going for abundance here. The booze will be flowing and the food should be equally generous. Anything leftover will be going straight to a food pantry, so we went a little heavy on ordering and we don’t have to worry about anything going to waste. Understood?”

“Yes, Chef,” everyone chorused.

“I know there are some new faces here, so, King’s people, be mindful of the staff from Lock & Key and vice versa. We need you working together. If you have a question about anything, don’t hesitate to ask James or me. James will run the line tonight so he’s your point of contact down here. I’ll be at the event talking up the food and, with luck, helping people decide to donate generously, so I’m your point of contact up there.” He pointed upward, indicating the rooftop. “The hallways that lead to the staff elevator are tight, so be mindful as you pass each other, especially when you’re carrying full trays. I don’t want any collisions. If you’re watching the trays and reacting early, you won’t need to rush, okay?”

“Yes, Chef.”

“Does anyone have any questions?”

Everyone shook their head and he heard a few “No, Chefs.”

“All right.” He smiled at the people in front of him. “Now, I hope you’re all excited about tonight. This is going to be a great event.”

“Yes, Chef!”

The servers scattered to relax for a few minutes before the event got underway. Stuart looked around and saw Malcolm leaning in the doorway, watching him with a soft smile. Stuart walked over to him, drinking in the sight of Malcolm in a tux. Malcolm had been dressed casually and occupied with a florist when Stuart and his staff arrived. He’d checked in to make sure Stuart had everything he needed, and he must have changed at some point since then.

“Wow,” Stuart said quietly. “You look…” He reached out and squeezed Malcolm’s upper arm. “Just wow.” He wanted to touch Malcolm a whole lot more, but he didn’t want to come on too strong. Let Malcolm lead when it comes to physical affection, he reminded himself.

Malcolm’s smile was bashful and pleased. “Wow yourself. I like seeing you like this.”

Stuart glanced down. “Like this? Didn’t you see me in my uniform when we met at the restaurant?”

“I meant in charge,” Malcolm said. He looked down and swallowed. “It was interesting seeing you in your element, taking charge of the staff, all that.”

“Yeah?” Stuart smiled. So Malcolm liked it when he got bossy? Stuart was totally okay with that. It offered up a lot of interesting possibilities when they did decide to explore things in the bedroom. “Good to know.”

Several hours later, Stuart surveyed the crowd with a pleased look. The fundraiser was in full swing and going beautifully. The weather had cooperated and the unseasonably oppressive heat of the past few weeks had mellowed to give them a pleasant early summer evening.

The French bistro feel of the black-and-white tiled floor, wrought-iron chairs and glass-topped tables were as beautiful as the evening Stuart had first seen The Over Under. The glow of the lamps and backlit bar had been augmented by strings of lights and candles and it all shone rich and warm against the dark night. The rooftop felt both spacious and cozy for mingling, exactly what they’d all been aiming for.

Malcolm and Stuart had agreed on a mix of buffet and passed hors d’oeuvres. While the word “buffet” conjured up images of bland, watery food in chafing dishes, this was as far from kept lukewarm and boring as possible. It was downright spectacular. Stuart’s chest filled with pride as he looked over his contribution to the evening.

A banquet table held cheese, charcuterie, olives, mustards, breads and crackers, along with grapes, Marcona almonds and membrillo—a Spanish quince paste—that offered just the right amount of sweetness to offset the saltiness of the cheeses and cured meats. People could help themselves and snack as they perused the tables set up for the silent auction.

Black-clothed servers strolled the area, offering bites of food and, of course, Kyle’s incredible cocktails flowed freely and complemented every bite. Outside of King’s, it was rare Stuart had the opportunity to work with a bartender who was every bit as meticulous and committed to quality as he, and he welcomed this collaboration. Stuart suspected this could be the first of many between Kyle and himself, not to mention the CEC.

“I didn’t think I liked oysters,” a handsome blond man in a well-fitting tux said. He laid a hand on Stuart’s arm. “But you’ve made a convert out of me. Who would have thought to grill them?”

A chef? Stuart thought. He put on a pleasant smile. “I think one of the best parts about my job is introducing people to new things.”

The man traced his fingers lightly across Stuart’s arm. “Are there other things outside of the kitchen you like to explore?”

“Yes,” Stuart said. His gaze traveled to Malcolm, who stood twenty feet away, talking to an older couple. “These days, the exploring I do outside the kitchen is with the man I’m seeing.”

“Pity.” The man’s fingers slid away from Stuart’s arm, though he didn’t look upset.

While Malcolm and Stuart hadn’t set out any explicit rules yet about seeing other people, Malcolm’s reaction to what he’d thought was Stuart’s involvement with Jesse Murtagh and his partner had left no doubt as to where Malcolm stood on the idea of open relationships.

Stuart agreed. He had tried group sex a few times, and it had done little for him. He preferred to focus on one person at a time, and he didn’t have any desire to share someone he cared for with anyone else. He cared about Malcolm already, and he had a feeling that if he and Malcolm could figure out how to navigate the physical side of their relationship, this was going to be major for both of them.

Stuart didn’t want to fuck that up, much less with someone he’d barely exchanged a dozen sentences with.

The gentle clinking of flatware on a glass turned everyone’s attention to the small stage area set up where Carter Hamilton stood in front of a microphone.

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” he said. “We’re about to begin the speech portion of the evening so I hope you’ve fortified yourself with one of the delicious drinks we have available.”

The crowd tittered. Carter seemed wholly at ease in front of them. He wore his tuxedo like a second skin, and Stuart could see his partner, Riley, at the edge of the crowd. Even from a distance, his affection for his fiancé was palpable. Stuart had rarely seen couples with a connection like that, and it gave him hope that someday he’d find it for himself.

Once again, his gaze landed on Malcolm.

Maybe he had met someone with whom he’d be able to create that kind of relationship. Carter and Riley had been through some extraordinary challenges to be together. Surely, Stuart and Malcolm could manage to navigate the unknown territory of Malcolm being gray ace.

As if he’d sensed Stuart’s gaze, Malcolm turned his head. He looked seriously at Stuart for a few seconds before a bright smile bloomed across his face. Stuart’s heart stuttered in his chest, and he thought then and there that no matter how long it took, or how difficult things might get, he and Malcolm would make this work.

Because he wanted to see a whole lot more of that smile in his future.

After a moment, Malcolm looked away and Stuart turned his attention to Carter again.

“I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge some of the wonderful people who partnered with us to make tonight a success. First, our thanks to Jesse Murtagh, Kyle McKee and Matt O’Hearn for the use of this incredible space. Kyle is also the genius behind those delicious drinks you’re enjoying.”

Jesse looked like he was drinking in the accolades as everyone clapped while Kyle and Matt simply waved.

“Stuart Morgan of King’s in Tribeca provided this marvelous food and we feel very lucky he was able to step in on short notice to help us out.”

Stuart raised a hand and acknowledged the applause with a smile.

“And last, but not at all least, we have Malcolm Elliott, our Social Organizer here at CEC. Without him, events like tonight wouldn’t happen and I think we can all agree that would be a terrible shame. So please, a big round of applause for Malcolm.”

Malcolm ducked his head a little but waved, too. Stuart applauded louder than anyone and if he hadn’t known it would embarrass Malcolm, he would have put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. After the applause had died down, Carter continued.

“May seventeenth is International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia and Biphobia to raise awareness of anti-LGBT violence and repression worldwide. While this alone would be enough of a reason to hold this event now, as many of you know, advocating for the LGBTQIA workforce in corporate environments is a very personal cause for me as well. For many people in our community, coming out can have drastic repercussions for our careers.

“CEC’s goal is to ensure that all people—regardless of gender identity or sexual orientation—have equitable treatment in the workforce!”

The crowd cheered and Carter waited for the noise to die down before he continued.

“Following last year’s historic victory for marriage equality, corporate America is making strides in equality for the LGBTQIA community. Workplace discrimination protections are becoming more commonplace in the business world, and unfortunately, the federal and many state governments lag behind in addressing discrimination against LGBTQIA workers.

“The Corporate Equality Index was launched in 2002 to assess LGBTQIA-inclusive policies and practices at Fortune 500 companies and I’m pleased to announce that, in recent years, record numbers of businesses have earned top scores. Companies looking to recruit and retain top employees and maintain and grow their market share has resulted in the improved lives of millions of LGBTQIA Americans.

“In its inaugural year, only thirteen businesses earned a one hundred percent score. In 2013, a record two-hundred-plus businesses achieved the top rating and the distinction of being the ‘Best Places to Work for LGBTQIA Equality.’”

Another, even louder, cheer rose from the crowd.

“We’re here today because we’re committed to making sure that every last company reaches that top rating, and we need your help to do it.” Carter grinned and gestured to the handsome man at his side. “I’d like to turn the floor over to New York State Senator David Mori. Please give him a warm welcome.”

Carter and David shook hands before the senator took Carter’s place at the microphone.

“Thank you for joining us this evening,” David said. “As Carter said, I am a New York State Senator and Japanese-American. What some of you may not know is that I’m a Republican.”

The crowd went very quiet and Stuart had to stifle a laugh. Although the interactions he’d had with David Mori had been very positive, Stuart was still trying to wrap his brain around a gay Republican senator.

Stuart liked the man. He just didn’t understand his position.

David raised a hand. “I know, I know, that doesn’t endear me to a lot of people in the LGBTQIA community. I’m working to change that. I’m committed to reaching across the aisle and working with senators of all political affiliations to enact change. Unfortunately, in the political world, that can mean progress is slow. While I and others work to bring about those desperately needed changes to laws, we need you to help organizations like Corporate Equality Campaign raise funds to support their portion of the fight.

“By purchasing a ticket to this event tonight, you’ve already taken the first step. We have two other ways you can contribute as well. A generous donation to CEC is one. Another is to enter our silent auction. Numerous companies have made donations to tonight’s auction to help ensure its success and now it’s your turn to step in.”

Stuart felt a touch on his elbow and turned to find one of the servers from King’s at his side. “What is it, Nicole?” he asked softly.

“We’ve got a problem. James asked for you to come down.”

Stuart nodded. If James didn’t want to handle a problem on his own, that meant it was big.

Maybe one of the breakers had blown in the middle of the food prep. It wouldn’t have been the first time that had happened. It could be something as innocuous as someone knocking over a tray of prepared food or prepped ingredients. Unless they were forced to change what was being served because of the loss, James could handle that.

“What is it?” Stuart asked her once they’d reached the hallway. “Breakers?”

“Not this time.” Nicole had been serving with him the last time they’d had power issues. “One of the Lock & Key people bumped into the big glass tiered tray we’d set up for the dessert display. It’s in about ten million pieces on the kitchen floor right now.”

Stuart groaned. The tiered stand was the centerpiece of their dessert offerings. “Fuck.”

“Desserts are nearly assembled, but we have nothing to display them on.”

Stuart glanced at his watch. There wasn’t time to go out and get something else. He’d have to see what Lock & Key had on hand. The pub wasn’t an upscale place so he wasn’t sure they’d have anything that would be cohesive with the style of the event. If that was the case, he’d improvise and make it work somehow. This certainly wasn’t the first disaster Stuart had overcome.

It wasn’t until he and Nicole had reached the kitchen that an idea popped into Stuart’s head. Under. Its vibe jibed more closely with the party. And while they didn’t serve food, he knew Kyle was a huge proponent of presentation and might have something they could use without the guests being any the wiser.

Stuart turned to Nicole. “Do you know who Kyle McKee is?” She shook her head. “Tall guy, black hair, very pale. He’s in a tux since he’s not an official bartender tonight. I need you to go upstairs and find him. If you aren’t sure who he is or can’t find him, check with one of the bartenders. Tell Kyle I need him to come down here as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Chef,” Nicole said. She turned and made a beeline toward the elevator again while Stuart headed into the kitchen.

The moment he stepped inside, he zeroed in on the culprit, a skinny young guy named Greg. Based on the tortured look on his face as he swept up glass, he would have rather stuck his head in the dishwater. Greg glanced up and froze when Stuart approached him.

“I am so sorry, Chef,” he babbled. “I didn’t realize it was behind me and I turned too fast and—I’m gonna pay for it, I swear. You can take it out of my wages for tonight and—”

Stuart gripped Greg’s shoulders to quiet him and noticed then that the poor kid looked terrified. Realizing he’d been glowering, he tried to relax his expression. When the boss for the night was a big, bearded, tattooed guy, it was probably intimidating as hell seeing him look angry.

Greg had no idea what the display cost—far more than he’d earned tonight, that was for sure—but Stuart wasn’t about to charge him for it. Accidents happened in kitchens. If everyone still had all their digits and no one had to be rushed to a hospital, he’d count that as a win.

He kept his tone soft. “Greg, I don’t care right now. I really don’t. My priority is finding a way to display the desserts. Just get the glass cleaned up, please.” Stuart stepped back. “We don’t need any more accidents tonight.”

He turned to James. “What are our options?”

“I checked around—nothing they’ve got down here will look right,” James said with a frown. “We could maybe bring some of the wooden cheese boards down and get them washed.”

“I don’t love it, but they’ll have to do if there’s nothing else.” Stuart jerked his thumb at one of King’s servers. “Johanna, you go take care of that. Nicole is finding Kyle—the owner of the speakeasy downstairs—to see if he’s got something.”

“I’m here,” Kyle said from behind Stuart. “You need serving trays?”

Stuart faced him. “Yes, for the desserts. They can’t look out of place with our other food displays.”

Kyle hummed. “I’ve got a couple of slate boards. Would that work?”

“Sounds like it might.”

“Why don’t you come downstairs with me? I don’t have a lot of options, but if you see anything else you’d prefer, grab it.”

“Perfect. Thank you,” Stuart said, already on the move. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

 

* * * *

 

Stuart glanced at his watch as he slipped back into the crowd to mingle. Kyle’s slate boards had worked nicely with the rest of the displays and Nicole and Johanna were setting out the desserts. Right in the nick of time, too.

Squaring his shoulders, Stuart took another breath, this time slower and deeper. He’d done it. There was always a surge of adrenaline after a near disaster and it would take him a few minutes to come down.

The party had continued without any other issues. A small four-person band had begun performing while he’d been gone and while Stuart didn’t recognize the song playing, its beat made him want to move. He saw dozens of people on the dance floor and he wondered idly if Malcolm enjoyed dancing.

He’d have to find out. The thought put a smile on his face as he got swept up in conversation again.

As the evening continued, the drinks flowed, the food was gobbled up and donation after donation was placed. Several times, Stuart caught Malcolm’s glance across the room. On every occasion, Malcolm smiled and Stuart knew no matter what they had to get through to figure out how to be together, it would be worth it.

 

* * * *

 

After the last of the partygoers left The Over Under, the staff began to clear away the remnants of the party. The speakeasy crew hung back, of course, as well as the teams of organizers from the CEC, and everyone looked tired but pleased. Stuart watched Carter lean on Riley, and he caught a glimpse of the senator kissing his boyfriend, Will. They were an interesting group, that was for damn sure. Rich, yes. Certainly not the idle rich, however. These men worked hard to spread good in the world.

Then Malcolm rounded the bar, his face glowing as Stuart crossed the space to meet him.

“That couldn’t have gone any better,” Malcolm said when they were face-to-face. “The donations went far beyond what we’d hoped for and everyone raved about the party. They loved the venue, they loved the drinks and they really loved your food.”

“Yep. We nailed it!” Stuart swept Malcolm up into a tight hug, pulling him up off his feet for a moment before lowering him to the ground again. It wasn’t until their bodies were pressed together full-length that Stuart froze, realizing he’d crossed a boundary he shouldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I was going to leave all physical contact up to you and…” He dropped his arms but Malcolm didn’t. His grip remained tight around Stuart’s body.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Malcolm’s voice sounded rough. Stuart tipped his head back to look at him. “You don’t have to stop touching me, either. I like this.”

“You sure?” Stuart asked.

Malcolm nodded once. His eyes were still shining blue and filled with trust. Stuart carefully wrapped his arms around Malcolm again, snug, yet easy enough for Malcolm to shake off if he wanted. The air between them was charged with tension and Malcolm’s gaze filled with something Stuart hadn’t seen before.

“Do you wanna—” Malcolm cleared his throat. “Could we go back to your place tonight? If you don’t have other plans, I mean.”

Stuart blinked at him.

“I, um, would like to spend time with you tonight. Alone.” Malcolm licked his lips. “Not for sex. Obviously. But maybe—”

Stuart held a finger in front of Malcolm’s lips. “I’m happy with whatever you want to do. We’ll go back to my place and if all we do is hold hands, it’ll be perfect, okay?”

The grin that lit Malcolm’s face was even brighter than the one he’d worn a few minutes before.

And that made Stuart happier than he’d been in a long time.