Aria (6 page)
At sunset, they cruised the Seine on a bateau mouche, their dinner simple baguette and brie sandwiches with tiny pickles and cheap wine. It was the best dinner Sam had ever eaten. The view from the boat was spectacular. But years later Sam would remember little of the view. It was Nick he had been watching the entire time, the joy on his face far more interesting than the scenery.
Sam opened his eyes. He hadn’t been ready five years ago, when he’d first met Aiden. He could still hear Aiden’s voice on the answering machine.
“I just wanted you to know I got that scholarship I told you about. The program starts two weeks from today, and I was thinking that I’d really like to see you… ah… you know, before I leave. If you have a chance, please call me.”
He’d wanted to call Aiden. He’d picked up the phone more times than he could remember. But in the end, he’d put it off. Too little, too late. And now, who could blame the guy for wanting nothing to do with him?
“Thanks, Yvonne.” Sam set down the document he’d been glued to for the past two hours and picked up the handset. “Sam Ryan.”
“You sound damn sexy when you’re in lawyer mode.”
Sam grinned. “You always sound sexy. It’s that voice.”
“We still on for dinner tonight?” Aiden asked.
“Should be fine. My late meeting got canceled. Meet you at seven at Waraji?”
“Deal. My treat this time.”
“You don’t need to do—”
“Yeah, I do. Besides, I just got paid for my church job.”
“Church job? You?”
“Don’t worry. I’m only singin’,” Aiden shot back with a laugh. “I’m a soloist at a Unitarian church off Seventh Avenue. Pay’s pretty good, and I only work a few hours a week.”
“Guess the Baptists didn’t want you.”
“They did. But the Unitarians pay better.”
Sam laughed right as his computer chimed to remind him of a telephone conference. “Look, Aiden, I gotta run. I’ve got a meeting in five minutes.
“See you at seven, then.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Sam leaned back in his chair and sighed. He and Aiden had been seeing each other for two weeks. After much soul-searching, Sam had decided he was going to ask Aiden over to his apartment in Brooklyn Heights on the weekend.
Just for brunch
, he told himself. If things worked out, maybe he’d ask Aiden to spend the night.
One step at a time.
“Good. He says he’s interested in setting up some auditions for me in the spring. He’s going to put me in touch with a colleague in their European division.”
“So how does that work? Are they looking to hire for specific roles?”
“Some. But they also have contacts who are trying to put together their seasons, so they’ll probably set me up for some auditions with conductors. This guy’s friends with the conductor of the CSO.”
“Chicago Symphony?”
Aiden nodded. “David Somers. The guy’s the hottest young conductor on the scene in Europe. He spends the summers in Milan—I hear he’s got a villa there.”
“I didn’t know the music business paid that well,” Sam said as he refilled their cups again.
“Recording contracts are pretty lucrative. But he comes by his money the honest way,” Aiden said with a grin. “He inherited it. Old money. Mansion in Connecticut, that sort of thing. The guy’s amazing, though. If he likes my voice….”
“He’ll love your voice.”
“Thanks, Sam.” Aiden’s face flushed.
“No need to thank me. You played me your audition tape, remember?”
“Yeah. But sometimes… I don’t know… it’s hard to get past the crap. I spent the first eighteen years of my life listening to my dad tell me what a fuckup I was and the last five hearing about how music wasn’t any way to earn a living.”
“Does he still say that?” Sam thought briefly of his own father’s unmet expectations.
“Yeah. Pretty much every time I call or visit. He keeps telling me to come home and study to be a preacher.” Aiden’s laugh was bitter. “Can you just see it?”
“I would say you could do whatever you wanted,” Sam said with a warm smile. “But I think Baptist preacher would probably be pushing the envelope.”
“No joke.” Aiden ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, I forgot,” he added a moment later. “There was something I wanted to tell you about.”
“Sure. And when you’re done, I’ve been wanting to ask you something. Don’t let me forget.” As if he would. He’d been mulling over how to ask Aiden to his place without it sounding like the big deal it was.
“I got a call from this arts organization in Hamburg, Germany. I’m a semifinalist for a scholarship.” Aiden didn’t look all that pleased with this news.
“Scholarship? I thought you were done with school.”
“I am. This is a special deal where they send you to Europe, all expenses paid. Give you a place to stay, a Eurail pass, and some money for food and stuff.”
“Really? That sounds great! How long’s it for?”
“A year.” Aiden met Sam’s gaze for a long moment, and Sam immediately understood that Aiden was hesitating because of
him
. Because of
them.
Sam’s mouth went dry. “Wow.” He tried to sound enthusiastic despite the sick feeling in his stomach. “That’s great, Aiden.”
“You think?”
“Sure. I mean, that’s a great deal. You’ve been wanting to go to Europe. It couldn’t get any better, right?” It was true. Aiden had told him about Europe the night they’d met. He knew how important this was for Aiden’s career.
Aiden’s smile seemed forced. “Right. Yeah, I’ve wanted this.”
“So when do you hear if you get the award?” Sam barreled ahead, sensing the larger question that hung unspoken between them and knowing he couldn’t begin to answer it.
“Sometime in the next few days. They said they’d be calling my references, you know. Checking to see if I’m the kind of man they want to sponsor.”
“Are you worried?”
“Nah. I’m pretty easy to work with. The recommendations will be good.”
Sam sucked down another cup of sake to fill the silence. “Then it’s a sure thing, right?” he asked after a pause, trying to sound enthusiastic.
Aiden shrugged. “I guess.” There was another moment of awkward silence between them, and Sam refilled their cups again.
“How soon would you leave?” Sam tried to focus on pouring the sake. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
“If I get the award, I’ll be leaving in a few weeks. They don’t give you much time to think about it.” Aiden emptied his cup in one swallow. “So what did you want to ask me?”
Sam had nearly forgotten about inviting Aiden over on the weekend. He had planned it all out. But now…. He took a second to compose himself, then said, “It’s nothing, really. I thought you might want to catch a movie after dinner.”
Aiden looked surprised, and Sam guessed he hadn’t been very convincing. “I… ah… sure. Of course. But don’t you have to work in the morning?”
“I’ll be fine,” Sam lied. He wasn’t fine. He wasn’t at all sure what he was, but he was sure he wasn’t fine.
“I shouldn’t.” Sam wanted to be with Aiden, but the Europe trip sounded like a done deal. And Aiden
needed
to go to Europe for his career. Besides, Sam wasn’t even sure he was ready to ask the guy to spend the night at his place. What could he possibly say about Europe? He had no right to ask Aiden to put his career on hold for something that hadn’t even started.
I….”
“It’s not that,” Sam lied. “It’s a great opportunity.” “Yeah.”
Sam glanced at his watch. “I better go. I’ve got a meeting in the morning.”
“Sure.”
“I had a great time.”
“Me too.” Aiden leaned over and kissed Sam on the lips. Sam knew kissing complicated things, but Aiden tasted so good, and Sam melted into the kiss. If Sam could only forget how attracted to Aiden he was—how much he genuinely
liked
Aiden—they could both move on and call it a night.
Or a life, maybe, as in “it’s been great, but….”
Damn the man for being so fucking attractive! And so… nice. Sam felt like a complete asshole, running away like this, knowing that it was
all
about the European thing, about the possibility of Aiden leaving and Sam’s own stupid, fucked-up fear of moving on.
“You need to stop worrying, Sam, and let yourself
feel
sometimes,”
Nick had once told him.
Nick. God, he missed Nick so much he ached. Aiden was here. Alive. Real. Why was he going home alone?
“Night, Sam.”
“Night.” Sam smiled, then headed for the nearest subway stop without looking back.
PresentWhat the fuck got into me?
And what would he say to Sam—what
could
he say to Sam now so Sam wouldn’t think he was the world’s biggest asshole? Aiden pressed the bell and took a deep breath. He could do this.
Act like an adult. Cut the hurt puppy dog bullshit.
“Hey, Aiden! Glad you could make it.” Jason opened the door to the apartment and gestured Aiden to come inside before giving him a warm hug. Aiden wondered if Jason realized how long he’d been standing there. He probably did, seeing as though he’d buzzed Aiden into the building more than five minutes before. “How’d the first rehearsal go?”
“Great.” Aiden sat down across from Jason on the couch. “The tenor’s an old friend of mine from Germany. He and I were at the same opera house for a year. David’s conducting, of course.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry he couldn’t make it for dinner. He said Alex was performing in Rome, and he wanted to be there for the dress rehearsal.” Jason smiled, then added, “He never misses a dress rehearsal or performance of Alex’s if he can help it.”
“He knows what is good for him” came another voice from the kitchen doorway—Jules, his long hair pulled back in a ragged ponytail, wearing an apron over his jeans and T-shirt.
“Jaz tells me he’s been following you all over.” Aiden and Jules exchanged the typical French greeting of kissing each other’s cheeks.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jason chuckled.
The door to the apartment opened, and Sam walked inside carrying several shopping bags. “Hope I’m not too late.” Sam glanced over at Aiden and smiled. “Good to see you again, Aiden.” He put the bags down and shook Aiden’s hand. “And thanks for calling.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry I snapped at you in the park.” Aiden tried to ignore the familiar jolt of heat in that contact.
“I know.” Sam’s smile appeared quite genuine.
Aiden tried to pretend as though seeing Sam again didn’t have him on edge and unable to focus. He realized he was still holding Sam’s hand and pulled away, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He wondered if Sam felt the same, because he noticed the bob of Sam’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed. Aiden tried his best to silently communicate that he was no longer angry. He hoped it worked. Whatever had happened with them in the past, he’d moved beyond it. Or so he kept telling himself.
“I brought you a little something, Jules.” Sam pulled a bottle of wine out of one of the bags and handed it to Jules.
Jules’s eyes widened. “
Château Margaux?
Have you been talking with David Somers?”
Sam laughed. “No. But I wanted to thank you both properly for letting me stay here and for the party the other night.”
The pleasure in Jules’s eyes belied his stern expression. “You shouldn’t have. It’s far too expensive.” He put his hands on his hips and glared at Jason, then added in French, “You had something to do with this, didn’t you?”
Jason winked at Sam but said nothing.
“Give it up, Jules,” Aiden chimed in. “You know you can’t win this one. Besides, even I know it’s your favorite.”
Jules threw his hands up, then gave Sam a big kiss on the cheek and went to uncork the bottle.
A short while later, they were all seated around the dining table, drinking the wine and enjoying Jules’s cooking, the smells of fresh bread, garlic, and butter hanging in the air.
Dinner conversation was easy and comfortable, though Aiden had to force himself not to stare at Sam from across the table. It was difficult not to look—the intervening years had been good to Sam. Aiden couldn’t help but notice how sure of himself Sam seemed—the tension and sadness he had once sensed in the other man had been replaced by a quiet calm that Aiden found surprisingly appealing. Once or twice Aiden thought he caught Sam’s gaze, as well, though Aiden dismissed the look as one of simple curiosity.
After dinner Jason excused himself to help Jules do the dishes, refusing Aiden and Sam’s offers of assistance. “Balcony?” Aiden suggested.
“Sure.” Sam followed Aiden outside. “Makes me wish I had a view like this,” he added as they looked out over the park. “Not that I don’t have a good view of downtown Philly from my place, but it’s nothing compared to this.”
“I almost ended up putting down roots here.” Aiden’s expression was wistful.
“Why didn’t you?”
Aiden’s face fell. “It didn’t work out. I ended up in London instead.”
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You’re not.”
There was a brief moment of silence; then Aiden added, “Look, Sam. About the other day—”
“No need to apologize.”
“I thought you were a reporter. I overreacted. I was a jerk.”
The look on Sam’s face was sad now. “Funny, how we seem to do a lot of apologizing to each other, isn’t it?”
“Yes. We do, don’t we?” In spite of himself, Aiden smiled. “Maybe we just need to stop.” He turned to lean on the iron railing. “New York was a long time ago. Maybe we can move on from that. Be friends?”
“I’d like that. A lot.”
Aiden’s chest tightened at Sam’s response, and he forced back memories of five years before.
Let it go.
“There is something I’d like to tell you, though,” Sam continued. “Something I should have told you five years ago. And then I promise I won’t say another word.”
“Sure. Of course.”
Sam took a deep breath. “You were the first… the first man I’d been with, since my partner, Nick, died. I mean, I had dated a little, but I hadn’t slept with anyone since then.”
Aiden did his best to mask his surprise. Sam had never said anything about a partner in the short time they dated.
Although it’s not like we shared life stories in the two weeks we spent together.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” God, why did he sound like such an idiot? The guy had just told him someone he cared about had died, and that was all he could come up with?
“Of course you wouldn’t have. I should have told you.”
“What happened?” Aiden saw Sam stand a bit taller, his shoulders set back as if he were steeling himself. Aiden immediately regretted asking the question. “I mean, if you’re okay talking about it, that is.”
“I’m good with it. Really.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “His name was Nick. He was twenty-seven when he died. We met at Columbia when we were both undergrads. He was an art student, I was pre-law. We lived together for about six years.”
Aiden nodded, unsure of what to say.
“About a year before you and I met, I got a call. They said he’d had a massive stroke. An aneurism. He lived for about a week. I had to….” Sam looked down at the street and his jaw tensed visibly. “That night… at the bar… it was the first time I’d been out since Nick died.”
Shit.
It was all Aiden could do not to say it out loud. If he’d known….
If I’d known, then what? It wasn’t only Sam who was confused back then.
“I didn’t expect to meet anyone, Aiden. And I sure as hell didn’t think I’d meet someone I actually
cared
about.” Sam ran a hand through his hair as if trying to collect himself. “And when you told me about the scholarship… dammit! I knew why you were telling me, but I didn’t know what to say.”
“You said you wanted to tell me something that night,” Aiden said in an undertone. “It wasn’t about the movie, was it?”
“You remember that?” Sam looked directly at Aiden, and Aiden could see surprise and pleasure in the other man’s eyes. Aiden smiled and nodded. “I was going to ask you to come over to my place,” Sam explained. “The place I’d shared with Nick. But when you told me… shit. I could barely get up the nerve to ask you over. What right did I have to ask you to stay in New York? And when you called to say you’d gotten the scholarship, I hesitated. When I finally called, you were gone.”
Aiden did his best to smile. “I didn’t know what I wanted either. I don’t know what I would have said if you’d asked me to stay. In the end, that scholarship made my career. Maybe that’s just the way it was supposed to work out.”
“Thanks.”
“For what?” Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Aiden was tempted to take Sam in his arms. To kiss him.
“For not punching the shit out of me when you saw me again.” Sam laughed. “But seriously, I appreciate it. Giving me a chance to explain, after all this time.”
“I’m glad you told me.” He
was
glad, although Sam’s admission left him more unsettled than before.
“Friends?”
“Friends,” Aiden repeated. “So maybe we can get together. Do some sightseeing while you’re here?” He hadn’t planned on asking, but he wanted to see Sam again, even if it was only to walk around Paris.
“I’d like that.”
“I don’t have rehearsal tomorrow. Why don’t I stop by around eleven? We can grab lunch if you’d like.”
“Sounds great.”