Chapter 2

“Need a light?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a lighter here somewhere.”

Eron snatched his lighter out of his pocket and flicked it.

“Here you go.”

Garrett cupped his strong smooth hands to guard the flame. A shiver rippled down to Eron’s crotch as their gazes met.

That felt good.

They stood on the side of the church and smoked in silence. The suburban street had little traffic. The building shaded them from the hot afternoon sun.

“So you’re Susan’s…” Eron stamped out his cigarette on the sidewalk.

“Nephew. My dad is her brother. And George is your uncle?”

Eron grabbed another cigarette. He could lose his lighter so Garrett could come tohisrescue, but that might seem weird. “Yes. Since my parents died, he’s more of a father to me.”

“Eron?” Mary Ellen whined from around the front of the church.

“Over here!”

“Eron, darling, they’re ready for pictures and George wants you in a few.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”

His cheeks burned with embarrassment at the faint smell of alcohol on Mary Ellen’s breath.

“Your wife?” Garrett asked.

Eron took a drag off his cigarette and exhaled loud and slow. “Uh…girlfriend. My date for the day, Mary Ellen Buchanan.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” But not as beautiful as you.

Garrett finished his cigarette and then mimicked Eron by lighting another right away. Garrett located his own lighter this time and avoided the contact with him.

Coherent conversation stuck in his throat. The class clown, the jokester at a loss for words. He finished his cigarette, then ground his newfound frustration into the butt on the ground. “I need to go. Enjoy the rest of the day.”

Garrett nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

It was just as well. Garrett didn’t seem interested in conversation either. When Garrett failed to extend his hand, Eron offered his, wanting another moment of contact. No, he wanted to push Garrett up against the wall and kiss his lips, but for now, he’d settle for a handshake.

“You going to the reception?”

Garrett fumbled getting his hand out of his pocket, wincing as smoke floated into his eyes. Eron grabbed his hand. “I don’t want to disappoint my Aunt Susan. I promised her a dance.”

Damn it, Lassiter. Pull yourself together

Eron needed a cocktail. This situation called for some scotch and ginger ale. That’d give him the courage to talk to Garrett Emerson or help him forget about Garrett altogether.

Eron joined the bridal party for the pictures. He posed with George and Susan alone before Susan invited Mary Ellen to join them. Rank vodka wafted off her in waves.

* * * *

Behind the wheel of his beloved 1959 Mercedes, Garrett headed toward Bensonhurst Country Club with Johnette and his father, Allen, in tow. He’d had the car for a while and while he didn’t buy it new, it served its purpose.

Johnette changed the radio station to a Doris Day song when Leslie Gore’s “It’s Judy’s Turn to Cry” came over the air.

“Lovely ceremony, don’t you think?” Johnette said as they headed to the country club.

“What’s that?” Garrett asked.

“Lovely ceremony, Susan was beautiful.”

“Yeah, lovely.”

“What’s wrong? You haven’t been yourself since we arrived at the church.”

“Nothing, I have a lot on my mind.”

I’m infatuated with a good-looking guy, but I can’t tell you or my dad that. But it doesn’t matter because he didn’t say much, anyway.

Garrett discreetly adjusted himself in the seat as he moved his foot from the gas pedal to the clutch and brake. This is all about business. Garrett calmed down, rationalizing his infatuation on Eron as a career opportunity. He was sure Eron knew plenty of people who needed loans.

While he told himself that making a new connection might help him find new clients, Eron had stirred feelings in him unrelated to the bank. Maybe the excitement of meeting someone who appealed to him had awakened feelings he’d suppressed for years.

“Oh, this is nice,” Johnette said as they pulled up.

“A bit preten—”

“Dad,” Garrett admonished.

Allen Emerson blushed but stopped talking. Johnette seemed oblivious to Allen’s commentary, still enthralled with the country club.

“Are you members here?” Johnette asked.

“No, I guess George is,” Allen answered.

They got out of the car. Garrett handed his keys to the valet and escorted Johnette into the club. Allen followed close behind.

A ma?tre d’ greeted them in the lobby. “Lassiter wedding?”

“Yes.”

“That way.” The ma?tre d’ directed them with a wave of his hand. Johnette squeezed Garrett’s arm as they entered the ballroom. White and pink taffeta bunting covered every sconce, chair, and flat surface in the room. The local band played music from Garrett’s younger years. It reminded him of his life, living it to please everyone. Garrett preferred Elvis and the new girl groups like the Crystals and the Ronettes popping up on the radio.