Elements of Retrofit (3 page)

But every day I saw him, and every day I looked for him. I had his schedule jam-packed and he seemed to thrive.

I’d managed to quash any notion that I could have been interested in him. The fact he spoke about my work with a passion like mine was nothing more than a professional admiration. Even in my line of work, it wasn’t every day I met someone who loved architecture like I did, and it had just thrown me, that was all.

At least that was what I told myself.

It was late on the Friday evening of Cooper’s third week when he dropped some files on my desk for me and looked at the board in the corner of the room. It was the first time he’d been in my office without anyone else with him. He eyed the draughting board in my office like it was the space shuttle to a young, wannabe astronaut.

The draughting board itself was rarely used these days. Nearly all draughting was done in CAD programmes, which took precision to an art form, but I still liked to use the old-school draughting board and blueprints in paper.

“I’ve seen you eye it a few times. You can go look at it,” I told him, looking up from my paperwork.

He grinned, walked over to it and ran his finger along the wooden frame. “It’s like touching an artist’s easel,” he said quietly.

I smiled at that analogy. “I guess it is.”

Cooper looked at me, then back to the draughting board. “This is the Mosconi job,” he murmured.

I stood up and walked over to him. He’d seen enough job sheets and specifications to recognise it. “Yes, it is.”

“It’s a beautiful building,” he said, almost shyly. He traced his fingers across the elevations of the plan, along the façade of the building. “The lines are definitive, it’s streamlined and geometric. It speaks of elegance that comes with history, yet it’s sustainable and retrofitted for modern living.” He spoke as though he was thinking out loud, then his eyes darted to mine and he blushed. “Sorry, I get carried away.”

I’d never seen him shy or even remotely unsure of his own words. It was an emotional reaction, and I liked it. Something else I shouldn’t have noticed.

I shouldn’t have noticed the blush across his cheeks, or the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. I shouldn’t have noticed how his eyes darkened and I certainly shouldn’t have noticed the lines of his neck, or his jaw, or those of his lips.

I had to swallow so I could speak. “Don’t apologise. Architecture is a beautiful thing.”

Cooper’s eyes darted to mine and he held my gaze. “Yes, it is.”

The air between us was suddenly static and it made my heart thump out of time. Cooper opened his mouth to say something, something I was pretty sure I didn’t want to hear, so I walked quickly back to my desk, putting some distance between us. Jesus Christ. I couldn’t think, I could hardly breathe. He was just a kid, for fuck’s sake. He was the same age as my son.

I shouldn’t be checking him out. I shouldn’t find him attractive. Or smart. Or clever. Or funny.

I shouldn’t like the way his eyes sparkled when he learnt something new. I shouldn’t like the way his lips curled when he smiled. I shouldn’t wonder what they felt like, how soft they’d feel against mine.

Oh, fuck.

I shook my head and cleared my throat. “I uh, I think…” I tried again. “I’ll be working from home this weekend.”

“Oh,” Cooper said. I didn’t know what his facial expression was. I didn’t dare look at him. He sounded like he didn’t care. “Okay.”

“I have a few things to catch up on here, but you can finish early if you like,” I said, dismissing him. I didn’t watch him leave, but when the door clicked softly I looked up to my office and seeing it empty, I finally breathed.

I needed some space, some breathing room, to get my head cleared of this nonsense. And, like the weekend before, two days working from home where I could lose myself in my work without any distractions was just what I needed.

Only that was not what happened.

Saturday morning I got up, threw on some jeans and a T-shirt and set about making coffee. Which became looking for coffee, which became ransacking the kitchen, pulling the pantry apart looking for fucking coffee.

Then the intercom buzzed. I cursed at the interruption and pressed the button. “What?”

“Sorry to bother you, Mr Elkin,” Lionel the doorman said. “I have a Cooper Jones here. Says he’s working with you today.”

I stared at the intercom. “Pardon?”

I heard a muffled voice, then Lionel spoke again. “Cooper Jones, sir. He says he brought the Lewington files…”

Shit. Shit. Shit. I cleared my throat. “Um…”

Lionel’s voice came through the intercom. “He said to say he brought the Lewington files
and
coffee.” Lionel didn’t exactly sound impressed. “Apparently the coffee is important.”

I smiled. “Let him up.”

I opened the door and went back to the kitchen, tidying up the mess, and wrote coffee on the shopping list.

There was a brief knock at the door. “Hello? Mr Elkin?” Cooper called out.

“Yes, come in, Cooper,” I replied.

He walked in, holding a briefcase in one hand, a satchel over his shoulder and a tray of take-out coffee in his other hand. He was wearing suit pants, but no tie or jacket and his shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows. He was looking every part the relaxed professional, while I stood there in jeans and bare feet.

He slid the tray of coffee onto the kitchen counter and I looked at him questioningly.

“I called into the office and picked the files up,” he said, putting the briefcase down and sliding the satchel from his shoulder. “And coffee from the café you like.” Cooper looked around my apartment, from the open living and dining room to the gourmet kitchen. The furniture was expensive, probably pretentiously so, but it was a direct representation of me. It was classic and traditional, with Chesterfield leather lounges and an antique dining table. The only modern furnishing was the kitchen. Cooper took it all in as though it impressed him. Finally, his eyes landed on me. “So, where are we doing this?”

I ran my hand through my hair. “I, um…well, when I said I was working from home,” I said quietly, “I didn’t expect you to work as well.”

“Oh,” he said, realising he’d just turned up at my apartment without an invitation. “Oh, shit,” he said, looking mortified. “But Jennifer said specifically I was to work when you worked. No exceptions. It was one of the first things she ever said. She was rather specific.”

I smiled at him. “It’s fine, Cooper.”

“Jennifer scares me,” he admitted, still not sure where to look. “I mean, I’m sure she’s nice and all, but she has a ferocious glare. She makes me nervous. Anna, one of the other interns, is scared shitless of her.”

He was clearly embarrassed, and rambling. I smiled and handed him one of the coffees he’d bought. “Cooper, it’s fine. We’ll set up at the dining table. Pull all your files out and we’ll have a look.”

“I’m really sorry,” he said again. “I feel like an idiot.”

I laughed at him and sipped my coffee. “It’s fine, Cooper. It shows great work acumen that you’d be at work at”—I checked my watch—“eight o’clock on a Saturday morning.”

His eyes widened. “Am I too early?”

I couldn’t help but smile at him. “No, you brought coffee, so it’s all good.”

I picked up the briefcase and set it down on the dining table. I collected my satchel, pulled out my laptop and we settled into a comfortable working silence. He’d ask a question every now and then, while he worked on getting the energy compliance ratings for the Lewington job, and I spent the next few hours trying to ignore the fact that the man I’d dreamt about, whom I’d fantasised about while I jerked off in the shower last night, was sitting across from me.

I also ignored how he slipped the end of his pen between his lips and how he’d lean his head on his hand with his fingers in his hair. Making myself focus on my work, I somehow managed to get the specification sheet half done for the same job Cooper was working on. It was helpful to have us both on the same plans, running through the same file sheets, and I didn’t realise the time until Cooper stood up and stretched. “Hungry?” he asked, checking his watch. “It’s lunchtime.”

I looked at my watch to see it was almost one. “Jeez, I didn’t realise the time.”

Cooper walked into the kitchen. “Can I make myself a sandwich?” he asked. “Want one?”

“Um, sure,” I answered, not sure what I had in the kitchen in the way of sandwich ingredients.

I watched him as he rifled through the fridge and the pantry like he owned them, obviously looking for something in particular. “Have you got peanut butter?” he asked. “I can’t find it.”

“Peanut butter?” I asked disbelievingly. “No, I don’t think so.”

Cooper shook his head. “How can you not have peanut butter?”

“Um, not since Ryan was little,” I said, then immediately regretted my choice of words. I didn’t want him to think of me as a dad to one of his friends. I didn’t want him to think I was implying he was a kid. I didn’t want him to think of me as someone twice his age, or his boss, or… I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted him to think.

Needing the distraction, I grabbed my keys. “Come on, we’ll go out and grab some lunch,” I told him. “I need to grab some coffee anyway.”

“Uh, Mr Elkin?” Cooper’s voice stopped me as I neared the door. I turned to face him, and he looked down to my feet. “Shoes?”

Fuck.

“Does Alzheimer’s kick in at your age?” he asked with a laugh.

My mouth fell open. “I’m not
that
old, thank you very much!”

He laughed again, then tried to hold it in. “I’m sorry, was that out of line?”

“What for?” I asked. “Making fun of Ryan’s father, or your boss?”

“Neither,” he said. His eyes shone and he grinned. “For making fun of the elderly.”

I rolled my eyes and pulled on my shoes. “So, the attitude? Is that a hunger thing?”

“Yep,” he replied cheerfully. “That’s an ‘I’m on my lunch break and can say what I want’ thing.”

I walked to the door and held it open for him. “Oh, is that the same as ‘you work for me, you’ll watch your mouth or you’ll spend the rest of your internship sorting mail’ kind of thing?”

He laughed as he walked to the elevator. “You win.” He pressed the button and as the doors opened, he stepped inside. “So, the lack of humour? Is that a hunger thing?”

“No,” I said with a smile, stepping in beside him. “It’s an old age thing.”

Cooper laughed. “Such a vicious circle.”

Chapter Four

I shook my head but couldn’t hide my smile. I liked his banter. He had a certain arrogance and boldness that came with age. Or lack of it.

When the elevator doors opened, Cooper stepped out into the foyer and gave a smug smile and cute little wave to Lionel the doorman.

I rolled my eyes. “Cut it out. He didn’t let you up to my apartment because he was doing his job.”

Ignoring the jibe, Cooper smiled as we walked from the foyer out onto the sidewalk. “So, what are you buying me for lunch?”

“An attitude adjustment,” I replied quickly.

Cooper laughed. “I heard the little Vietnamese place up here is one of the best.”

“It’s one of my favourites.”

“Where else do you go out?”

“I don’t, really.”

“Not at all?”

“I work a lot. The people I’ve dated don’t understand the long hours.”

We walked in silence for a bit, while Cooper obviously thought about what those long hours meant in the career he’d chosen.

“Does that scare you off?” I asked with a smile.

“What?” he asked quickly, looking at me. Then he shook his head. “No, no. Not at all. I don’t mind the long hours.”

We walked into the little café, I ordered some steamed vegetable rolls and a noodle salad to go, and I bought some ground coffee from the café Cooper had bought coffee from this morning.

The walk back to my apartment was quieter, his banter was gone. I grabbed some plates and dished up lunch for us both. The dining table had our work all over it, so we ate at the kitchen counter.

I was about to ask him where the impressive Generation Y mockery had gone, when he said, “Ryan told me.”

“Told you what?”

He stabbed his noodle salad with a fork. “About your divorce from Mrs Elkin.”

I put my fork down and frowned. “And what else exactly did Ryan tell you?”

He took a mouthful, seemingly oblivious to my discomfort. “That it was hard on him, that it was hard on all of you.”

“It was,” I said quietly, still unsure of his point.

“He said you’ve dated a few…
people
, but nothing serious.”

I cleared my throat. “Really. Is that what he said?”

Cooper nodded, took a drink from his water bottle and pushed his empty plate away. “You know, it’s not easy for anyone,” he said. “Jesus, I remember when I came out to my parents, I thought they’d flip their shit.”

I blinked. Twice.

I remember when I came out…

“What?”

“When I came out,” he repeated, as simply as discussing the weather. “When I told my parents I was gay. I knew I had to do it before college. I knew I had to be out
before
I went to college, or I’d spend the next four years in the closet.”

He was gay. He was telling me he was gay after discussing my divorce, which meant he knew
why
I got divorced.

I shook my head, really not sure what to say. “Yeah.” I snorted in disbelief. “God forbid you end up living a lie until your fortieth birthday.”

I didn’t mean for it to sound so biting, but I didn’t apologise.

He looked straight at me. I was half expecting him to say sorry for bringing it up, for even discussing my personal life with me, but of course he didn’t. “Is that what happened for you?” he asked me outright. “Did you get to forty and think—”

“I can’t live a lie anymore,” I finished for him.

He nodded. And then he did the darnedest thing. He put his hand on mine. “You’re not living a lie anymore.”

“No,” I whispered. “I guess not.”

He pulled back his hand then he brightened considerably. “So? Seeing anyone?”