Another Mazzy Monday (8 page)

“Good?” Austin asks.

“Exquisite.”

“Drink up,” he urges.

When I glance over at my sister she’s got a scowl on her face.
No good can come of it
, she mouths to me.

I know
, I mouth back.

“Is that some kind of twin thing?” Austin asks.

“What do you mean?” I reply.

“The two of you seem to be communicating, but you’re not actually speaking to each other.”

“It’s Twinspeak,” my sister jokes. “Haven’t you heard of it?”

Austin shakes his head. “I’ve never actually seen identical twins in real life before.”

“Never?” I’m surprised.

“Never,” he assures me.

We eat our meals in silence for a few minutes until Austin remarks, “The food is really good. You’ve got talent.”

“That’s what I always tell her,” I glance in Suzie’s direction.

She rises from the table. “I’d better get going.” Then she gives me the narrow-eyed glance I’m always treated to when she’s not very happy with me. “Can I talk to you for one minute in the foyer?”

I nod and get up from my chair. “I’ll be right back.”

“You’d better,” Austin says. “We’ve got a bottle of wine to finish.”

Once we’re in the foyer and out of earshot of Austin Suzie lays into me, finger pointing and everything. “This is a very slippery slope, Mazzy. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Nothing is going to happen,” I assure her.

“I want to believe you, but I don’t. Just be careful, okay?”

I nod and she gives me a big hug before she heads out the door.

Austin has already filled his mug with more wine when I return. He pats the chair next to him and I take the seat.

I take a small sip of wine and hope that it eases the nervousness I’m starting to feel. The more time I spend with Austin the more attracted to him I find myself.

“Mazzy is an unusual name. Were you named after Mazzy Star?”

“What’s a Mazzy Star?”

He laughs. I enjoy his laugh. It’s big and raw and full of joy. So much different than his brother’s, which always seems forced and restrained. “Mazzy Star is an alternative rock band. They were really popular in the 1990s. Maybe your parents were fans and that’s how you got the name?”

I shrug. “I have no idea. I’ve never talked to them about my name.”
Or much of anything else for that matter
.

“Why not?”

“Are you bored?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Well you’re spending your time sitting here with me and asking a lot of questions.”

He holds up his mug. “And drinking wine. You can’t forget about the wine.”

“You obviously have nothing better to do, because I’m really not all that interesting.”

“Maybe I find you a little bit interesting.”

“Just a little bit?” Our eyes lock for a long moment.

“More than a little,” he admits before he takes another sip of wine.

I push my finger around the rim of the cup for a few seconds, hoping I can make it play a note. Anything to take the attention off of me and distract him from asking any more questions.

“Are you going to play with that wine or are you going to drink it?” he teases.

I take a long swig just for him.

“Tell me more about Mazzy.”

“You’ve pretty much just learned everything there is to know about me. I work. I have a sister. That’s my life.”

“You don’t have any interests or hobbies?”

I shake my head.

“What did you do in high school? Sports, clubs, theater, choir?”

I frown. “Do I look like a choir girl to you?”

“Not really.”

“I’ve always been too busy working. I’ve been working since I was sixteen. My sister and I got jobs at the pizza place in town and worked there pretty much every waking hour when we weren’t in school. Then when we graduated we got jobs at Haymakers, the bar in town. The Wilde brothers, who own Haymakers taught us as much as they could about the business. We’ve been waitressing and bartending even since.”

“What about your family?”

“You’ve already met my sister.” 

“What about your mom and dad?”

I take a big sip of my wine. I don’t really like talking about my parents, but Austin seems intent on knowing everything about me.

“There’s not that much to say. They’re divorced. My dad got custody of me and my sister. We don’t see our mom.”

“Ever?” he sounds shocked.

I shake my head. “Nope.”

He leans in close and I can feel the heat between us surge. “Now you’ve piqued my curiosity. Why don’t you see your mom?”

I heave a sigh. “I have no idea why I’m even telling you this.”

“Maybe because you’re starting to like me.” He gives me a sly smile.

“Not even a little,” I tease. We both know we’re starting to like each other a lot more than we should.

“That’s too bad. Now about your mom…”

“Fine. I’ll tell you the sad story, but only because it’s obvious you’re used to getting your way with women and you’re not going to stop annoying me until I tell you.”

“Annoying? Really?” he puts his hand to his heart in mock dismay.

“Yes, annoying,” I repeat.

“You’re killing me, Kid. Absolutely killing me.”

“Do you want to hear the story or not?” I narrow my eyes at him.

He moves his hand in a princely gesture, which looks very odd coming from a guy who looks more like a badass biker than any kind of Prince Charming.

“Please continue,” he says in a fake high society voice.

I can’t help but smile at him. “Here you go. My tale of woe. When my mom left my dad she left me and my sister as well. She married another man and started a new family with him. Her new family doesn’t include me and my sister. My dad works as a chef in the city and he wasn’t home very much while we were growing up. My sister and I pretty much raised ourselves. It’s probably why we’re so close, because we really never had anyone else but each other. But I’m not a psychologist so I’m not going to analyze my life. It is what it is.”

“Thanks for sharing that with me.” He actually sounds sincere rather than his usual smart ass self.

“And what about your family?” I probe.

He pours a little more wine in each of our glasses. “What has my brother told you?”

I laugh. “Absolutely nothing.”

“You’ll marry just about anyone won’t you?” he teases.

“For the right price,” I remind him.

“I’m seven years younger than my brother, who you probably already know is thirty-two.”

I try to do the math in my head, which I have to admit was never my strong suit, plus I’m a little bit tipsy from the wine. It’s not adding up…or in this case subtracting.

“I’m twenty-five,” he adds.

“Did I really look like I was struggling with that one?”

“Either that or you’ve got a stomach ache, one of the two.”

“Go on. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“Interrupt all you want. I like talking about my family about as much as you seem to enjoy talking about yours.”

“Which is not at all.”

He nods. “Exactly.”

“Yet you forced it out of me anyway.” I give him back the same sweeping hand gesture he gave me earlier then say in my snobbiest fake royal voice, “Please continue, Sir.”

“I’m the quintessential black sheep of the family. If I had a dictionary handy I’d have you look up
black sheep
because you’d see my photo. My brother was always perfect in every way and I could not measure up. Andrew was a straight A student. I was lucky to get Cs. He was president of his class and I was lucky to make it to class most days. My brother was voted Most Likely to Succeed and I was voted Most Likely to Get Arrested.”

He takes another sip of wine before he continues. “I don’t know. Maybe I just became a bad boy because my brother was too good. It was a way to differentiate myself from him. I pissed my parents off a lot. It’s possible I may have enjoyed that a bit too. The scariest time in my life was the day they stopped being pissed and just accepted the fact that I was going to be a fuckup for the rest of my life. It’s almost like they gave up on me. That’s when I gave up on myself. After I managed to graduate high school by the skin of my teeth I told my parents I wasn’t going to college. They threatened to disown me, so I spent four years drinking and partying at their Ivy League alma mater. I probably wouldn’t have graduated if my parents weren’t large donors to the institution, but I managed to earn a degree. Then I packed up a backpack and headed out of town. I spent a year roaming around the United States and Canada. Once I’d seen every state and province I headed to Europe, where I’ve been roaming around until a few days ago when my father called me back to help with my brother’s campaign for governor. So that’s my sad tale of woe in a nutshell.”

Since I met Austin I’ve always seen him as so cocky and full of himself. But talking about his family he looks so vulnerable. More like a little boy who has been scolded one too many times and is afraid of his shadow.

“What are your parents like?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes then takes a huge swig of wine before he answers. “Mr. and Mrs. Graham are the epitome of a political family. Their lives will be complete the day a news reporter writes that they’re the Republican version of the Kennedys. Of course I don’t exactly fit into their picture perfect political life. Andrew likes to call me a rebel without a cause. I think he resents the fact that I don’t toe the party line like he does.”

“I’m a little nervous about meeting them,” I admit.

“Don’t be. They will be thrilled beyond belief. You’re a beautiful blonde. A perfect size two. You’ll look fantastic in every family photo. They’ve been waiting years for Andrew to bring home someone exactly like you.”

“Why do you call him that?”

He cocks his head to one side and furrows his brow, but almost in slow motion. I’m obviously not the only one who is getting a little tipsy. “Call who what?” he asks then laughs.

“Call your brother Andrew. Everyone else calls him Drew. He even calls himself that.”

“Because it annoys him. He hates Andrew. He thinks it sounds weak. He hates Andy even more. Ever since he was about twelve or so he’s insisted on everyone calling him Drew. I call him Andrew mostly to get on his nerves.”

I’m not exactly sure how to ask the next question so I just blurt it out. “How do you know he’s gay? Did he tell you?”

“Oh, hell no. He’s never admitted it to anyone. I don’t think he’s ever even admitted it to himself. I started noticing girls when I was about five or six years old. By the time I was ten I was trying to figure out ways to see girls naked. My brother was in high school and it was like girls didn’t even register. When I was in high school I had two thoughts nearly every moment of the day: where I could score beer and how I was going to get laid. Drew never even dated in high school. The only times I ever saw him with a girl were when it was absolutely required like prom or homecoming. Most straight guys that age can’t stop thinking about girls. My brother didn’t seem to have any interest. College wasn’t much different. Most of his friends would bring girls home for long weekends or take girls on trips for breaks. My brother was always solo.”

“What did your parents say?”

“Deep down I think they have always known something was different with their perfect child, when it came to women and dating anyway. But I don’t think they want to admit it. In their mind Drew Graham is destined to be President of the United States. They’ve been grooming him for the role since he was a kid. Gay and lesbian Americans don’t even have the right to marry in every state in our country yet. Do you really think the voters of our country are going to elect a gay president? I don’t think New Jersey voters are much different when it comes to selecting a governor.”

I frown. “How do you know that?”

“I guess you don’t follow politics. To date New Jersey is the only state to have an openly gay governor, but he didn’t actually come out until he was already in office, then he resigned.”

I shake my head. “I’ve never even voted.”

He laughs. “Don’t tell my parents that. I’m sure Drew will get you set up with a voter registration card.” He takes another swig of his wine. “Let me guess. You don’t watch the news either. Probably don’t keep up with political scandals the way my family does.”

I shake my head. “My sister and I don’t even own a television.”

“Seriously?” He sounds skeptical. “What do you do for mindless entertainment?”

“When we’re not working we like to cook. We invent new recipes. Have fun in the kitchen. She’s a much better cook than I am, but I can handle myself in the kitchen too. I’m more of the idea person. I think up the new recipes and Suzie executes them. I’m a little better at pastries and desserts than she is. I really enjoy cake decorating.” I suddenly have an idea and I articulate it before I can stop myself. “We should have a little bakery with our breakfast restaurant.”