6. Tracy

6

Tracy

When I got home from work that night, Ever leapt up from the sofa. He greeted me with a big smile and exclaimed, "Hey! How was your day?" I'd heard people referred to as golden retrievers before, but I'd never fully understood it until that moment.

"It was fine. How was yours?"

"Good. I was just crunching some numbers on my building remodel."

I took off my denim jacket while my eyes darted around the room. There seemed to be more cat toys than ever, and Ever had set up a workspace on the coffee table. The previously empty surface now held a laptop, stacks of paperwork, an empty coffee mug, a half-full glass of wine, random pens and pencils, and a few notebooks.

"There's a home office across the hall from my bedroom," I reminded him. "All of Roger's papers are put away, so I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you used his desk."

"Yeah, I asked him about that and he was fine with me using it. But after locking myself away in there for a while this afternoon, I decided I liked it better out here."

"You spoke to him today?"

He nodded. "I wanted to thank him again for the use of his apartment. I had a few questions for him, too."

"I'd be more than happy to answer any questions you have about the apartment, building, neighborhood, or the city in general." I didn't know why I'd felt compelled to provide him with that list.

"That wasn't what I—" He grinned and seemed self-conscious as he murmured, "I mean, um, good to know." Judging by his reaction, maybe the questions had actually been about me. I wondered what Roger had told him. He changed the subject with, "There are leftovers if you're hungry. The stew turned out great, and it gets even better after it's been sitting a while."

"Thanks, but I already ate."

"Then will you have a glass of wine with me?"

"I'm not really a wine drinker."

He asked, "How about a beer, then? I saw some in the fridge."

All I really wanted was to retreat to my room and spend the evening hiding out in there, but he looked so hopeful that it would have been cruel to turn him down. "Sure. I'll be right back."

When I got to my bedroom, I discovered Phil was right in the center of my pillow again. I murmured, "Hi, cat," and scratched his ears before opening a dresser drawer.

What I found in there made me frown. The clothes I wore around the house were all things I deemed too old and ratty to wear in public. Now, all of a sudden, I was sharing my living space with the hottest guy on earth. Even though I'd only seen him in tees or tanks and shorts, it all looked fresh and new, not stretched out and full of holes, like my crap.

I wasn't sure why I felt self-conscious about this, but I really needed to get over it. I couldn't afford to buy a whole new wardrobe, just to impress my roommate.

I ended up trading the gray T-shirt I'd worn all day for a clean, white tee I normally reserved for work. Then I took off my sneakers and swapped my jeans for the least worn-out pair of sweatpants I could find.

Phil accompanied me on the way back down the hall. I had to concentrate, so I didn't trip over him as he wound between my legs. I started to head to the kitchen, but Ever intercepted me. He handed me a beer, which he'd poured into a glass, and a small bowl containing… something brown.

I murmured a thank you, and he smiled at me. He had the straightest, whitest teeth I'd ever seen. They were almost distracting. "I know you already ate," he said, "but just in case you're feeling snacky, I dished up some of my homemade savory granola. It's got nuts, whole grains, and oats, toasted up with a sprinkling of zaatar seasoning."

"It's… what?"

"Savory granola. I always get a bit snacky in the evening, so I came up with this recipe. I actually want to find someplace local to manufacture it, so I can sell bags of it in my café."

"What café?"

"The one I'm building on the ground floor of EverFit. I want it to be someplace people can grab a smoothie after their workout, or a healthy snack or quick lunch. The consultant I was working with suggested selling grab-and-go items, like the granola, to increase profits. The café will be open to the public, and I'm hoping it'll provide a good secondary revenue stream."

As I took a seat on one of the dove gray club chairs and Ever returned to the couch, I said, "This whole project sounds complicated."

"It is, way more than my gym back in L.A. ever was. With that, all I did was buy an existing gym, paint the walls, and upgrade the equipment." He took a sip of wine before continuing, "But this is an opportunity to build exactly what I want from scratch."

"Did you always know you wanted to run a business?"

"No. I joined the Marine Corps right after high school, and as it turned out, that really wasn't my thing. After my four years were up, I knew I wanted to be my own boss, so I started taking business classes at a community college. But I dropped out when I started working as a bodyguard, because I had to be available for my clients around the clock."

"Yeah, it's not easy to juggle work and school, even with a regular job."

"It sounds like you're speaking from experience."

"I'm working toward a bachelor's degree," I said. "Both classes I needed this semester where filled, but I'll start up again in January."

"What's the ultimate goal?"

"I want to become a counselor."

"Nice. What made you choose that career?"

"It's a long story." I turned the conversation back to him with, "Why did you decide to sell your gym in L.A.?"

"There were a lot of reasons. For one thing, the guy who ended up buying me out offered me more money than I'd ever dreamed of. I ended up sinking every penny into my new fitness center, along with the money I made from selling my house and most of my savings."

"Did you consider using that money to retire?"

"Briefly."

"What stopped you?"

"I was afraid the money would run out in a few years," he said, "and by then no one would remember who I was, so I'd have to start over."

"But you said it was a large sum."

"Yeah. It was just under four million dollars."

I paused with a chunk of granola pinched between two fingers and muttered, "Holy shit."

"I know. I never imagined I'd have that kind of money."

"You really didn't think that would be enough to retire?"

"I was afraid I'd lose it somehow. What if I made some bad investments?" Ever looked away, and after a moment he admitted, "I've always been afraid of ending up like my dad. When I was in high school, he fell for a get-rich-quick real estate scam. After that, he turned to gambling to try to win back what he'd lost. Obviously that only made it worse, and we ended up losing everything, including our house. It was all so chaotic that my brother and sister decided to go live with our aunt in New Mexico, but I chose to stay with my mother. She ended up leaving my dad, and he disappeared for a while. At that point, Mom and I ended up in a homeless shelter."

He gestured at his computer and continued, "I looked up the shelter where you work, and it wasn't nice like your place. This was just a bunch of cots set up in a drafty old building behind a church. Sometimes, our shoes would get stolen while we were asleep, or a fight would break out, or something else would go wrong. We never felt safe there."

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

Ever straightened his posture and tried to play it off. "It's fine. I mean, it wasn't at the time, but we got through it. We both found jobs, and after about a year, she moved us into an apartment. Once I finished high school and joined the Marines, I was able to send a good amount home every month."

"Where is she now?"

"A year into my four-year commitment, she met someone. She ended up getting remarried and moving back east. Her new husband had two young kids, so she got a second chance at a family. She's doing great now. We both landed on our feet."

"How often do you get to see her?"

"Not that much, but I get it. She's busy with her grandkids, and she and her husband travel a lot." He tried to say that lightly, but I knew there was a lot of pain beneath those words.

After a pause, he told me, "Anyway, the example my dad set is why I'm like this—the constant hustle, the social media thing, my drive to make the new business a success—this is where it comes from. It's not about fame, or popularity, or whatever it must look like. I'm trying my best to build something solid, something that'll endure for years to come. But that building has turned out to be a money pit, and sometimes I wonder if I made a huge mistake by taking on this project."

"You didn't."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're obviously smart and capable, and you're already a success. People are going to join your new fitness center in droves, based on the reputation you've built. I bet you're going to have more members than you know what to do with, and the money's going to start pouring in."

He grinned a little and fidgeted with his wine glass. "It's funny. I didn't expect you to be such an optimist."

"I wasn't always, but working with the young adults at the transition shelter changed my outlook. Most of them are surprisingly positive and optimistic, despite what they've been through, and I've learned to follow their example."

I took a sip of beer and added, "Don't get me wrong, I'm also a realist. I know nothing gets handed to you in life. But a lot can be achieved by setting goals and working hard to reach them, which is what you're doing with your new business. That's why I really believe you're going to succeed."

"Thanks for saying that."

"Thank you, too, for confiding in me."

Ever tried to shrug it off like it was no big deal, even though it was. "I've talked about some of that publicly, like the fact that I was homeless for a while. My message to people in similar situations is always to hold on to hope."

After a moment, he admitted, "I hadn't told anyone about my financial concerns with my new fitness center, though. My followers on social media need to see me as competent and confident. If they think I don't know what I'm doing, everything could fall apart. But it feels good to talk about this. It was a lot to keep bottled up."

"I'm always happy to listen." I cautiously tasted a clump of granola and muttered, "Wow, that's actually really good."

His handsome face lit up when he smiled. "I'm so glad you like it."

Just then, Phil jumped onto my lap. As I shifted a bit to accommodate the cat, the beer, and the bowl of snacks, Ever turned the subject to me with, "Roger mentioned you're ex-military. How long were you in the Army?"

"Eleven years, from age eighteen to twenty-nine."

"Damn, that's a long time."

"Very."

"What made you decide to enlist?"

"It was an expectation, more than a decision. My dad's career military. He's been in the Army for thirty-eight years and has no interest in retiring. He made it clear from the time I was born that I was going to follow in his footsteps. I went along with it because when I was fresh out of high school, there was nothing else I could point to and say, ‘this is what I want to do with my life.' But it was never the right fit."

"You stuck with it for years, though."

"It was all I knew," I said quietly. "More to the point, I didn't know who I was or where I belonged, so I just kept playing the part of the good soldier, the dutiful son, doing what was expected of me—until I literally couldn't anymore."

"Now it's my turn to thank you for confiding in me."

I'd had no intention of going this deep tonight, but after all he'd told me, it felt wrong to hold back. And besides, I really believed what I said next. "I understand the value of talking about this stuff, after spending a lot of years in therapy. I kept my feelings and so much of myself bottled up for the first twenty-nine years of my life, and that led me down a very dark path. The only way to change and grow was to drag it out into the light."

"I'm starting to see why you want to become a counselor, and I have so much respect for that," Ever said. "I feel frivolous by comparison."

"Don't say that. You help your followers every single day by being kind and encouraging. I'll bet a hell of a lot of people are grateful for the positive impact you've had on their lives."

"That's a really sweet thing to say, and it's what I've always hoped for." He glanced at me with a little grin. "You know, this conversation is a nice surprise. Roger told me you barely spoke to him and hid in your room the first few months you lived here. I figured it would take a while for you to warm up to me."

"I'm a work in progress. I used to be so closed off and guarded that I'd push away anyone who tried to get close to me. I'm a different person now, compared to who I was ten years ago, or five, or even two years ago, when I first met Roger. I still have a long way to go, though."

"I get that," Ever said. "I'm all about becoming the best possible version of myself, and hopefully finding some peace and happiness along the way."

"Exactly." I was kind of surprised he understood what I was trying to say. I ate another granola cluster before looping back around to a topic we'd skimmed over. "You said one of the reasons you sold your gym was because someone offered you a lot of money for it. What were the other reasons?"

"I wanted a new challenge. I'd built up that business as much as I could, and there wasn't any place else to take it—short of franchising it, which didn't appeal to me. The thought of designing and building a state-of-the-art fitness center from the ground up was exciting."

"Why'd you decide to build it here?"

"I'd always liked San Francisco, and I couldn't build it in Southern California. I signed a noncompetition agreement when I sold my gym, so my only choice was to move out of the area."

"Had you always lived there?"

"Yeah, all my life, aside from my time in the Marine Corps. But I was ready to leave. West Hollywood, where I was living and working, felt like a gossipy small town. Everyone knew everyone. I'd meet someone new, and then it would turn out I'd slept with two of his exes, and his best friend, and—" He cut himself off and grinned. "You know what? This story isn't painting a particularly flattering picture."

"I'm not judging you."

"Okay, good. Anyway, I needed a change of scenery. I felt stuck. It was like running at top speed on a treadmill. Nothing ever changed, and I never ended up getting anywhere."

"How do you feel now?"

Ever considered the question before saying, "Part of me feels better. I've temporarily stepped off the treadmill, and I finally have a chance to take a breath and look around. But then there's this constant undercurrent of worry. That next treadmill is right up ahead, and soon I'm going to need to jump on and run harder and faster than ever. I've sunk all my money into the new business, and I have to make it a success. I have to . Everything is riding on it."

"You're putting an awful lot of pressure on yourself."

"I know." He took a breath before flashing his perfect smile. "Anyway, enough about that. Here I am, in a new city, and I'm in desperate need of a tour guide. Will you help me out?"

"Sure." I assumed he wanted help finding the nearest farmers market, the best sushi restaurant, things like that.

"Fantastic! You have Friday off, right?" When I nodded, he said, "So, this Friday night, I want you to take me to the hottest gay night club in town."

"Oh. I, um… I don't really go to clubs. But I can introduce you to some people who'd love to show you San Francisco's night life."

He shook his head. "I want you to show me, Tracy."

"Why?"

"Because I think we'd have fun."

"You'd have a much better time with some of my outgoing friends," I said. "All I do in loud, crowded social situations is look for a quiet corner to hide in."

"You won't do that when you and I are out on the town. You'll be having too much fun."

"Seriously, let me call my friend Vee. He's always the life of the party. He'll probably bring along some of his housemates, and you'll all have a great time."

"Definitely invite them," Ever said, "but I want you to be there, too."

"I don't know."

"Just give it an hour. Come with me and introduce me to your friends. Have a couple of drinks. When the hour's up, if you're truly not having a good time, I'll call you a Lyft."

He really wasn't asking for much, just an hour of my time and a few introductions. I could do that. "Fine. I'll message Vee tomorrow."

His face lit up. "Awesome! It's going to be so fun!" He was a lot more optimistic than I was.

We ended up talking until nearly one a.m. I was tired when I finally fell into bed, but I couldn't shut my brain off, so I stared at the darkness for a while and replayed our conversation.

Tonight had been surprising. While it was true that I was less closed off now than I used to be, it was unusual for me to feel so relaxed with someone new, or to open up that quickly.

There was just something about Ever. Maybe it came down to his natural charm and charisma. Everyone he met probably felt good around him, the way I did.

But I needed to avoid reading too much into his friendliness, or getting too attached to him. Right now, I was literally the only person he knew in this city, and while his fitness center was under construction, he had time to spare. But once his business opened, and as he met more and more people, he wouldn't have time for quiet evenings, or late-night conversations. Or me.

Phil startled me when he jumped onto the bed. I rolled onto my side, and as he settled in under my chin, I whispered, "I'm going to miss you when you move out in January, cat." I was going to miss his beautiful owner, too.