Chapter 98: No Particular Reason

Coffee extended the evening by nearly forty minutes.

Neither complained.

Service had slowed as the exhibition crowd thinned, and Giovanni found himself unusually grateful whenever their server disappeared.

They talked about people they’d met at the reunion.

Patrick had apparently accepted Giovanni’s invitation to visit Matteo’s.

Elena had messaged Alex after finding the umbrella she’d accused him of stealing in high school.

"She apologized?"

"No."

"Of course not."

"She sent a picture and wrote, Apparently you didn’t take it."

"That’s practically an apology."

"From Elena, yes."

Giovanni smiled.

"What about Mr. Arturo?"

"I called him."

"When?"

"Tuesday."

"You didn’t tell me."

"You didn’t ask."

"How is he?"

"Fine. Complained that everyone made too much fuss over him at the reunion."

"That sounds like him."

"He also said your woodworking still needed improvement."

Giovanni stared.

"You told him?"

"I may have mentioned the potato bird."

"That was decades ago."

"Art survives."

"Unfortunately, so do witnesses."

Alex laughed.

They lingered over empty cups until Giovanni finally looked at the time.

"We should go."

Alexander sighed.

Not dramatically.

Just enough that Giovanni noticed.

"Work tomorrow," Giovanni reminded him.

"I know."

Neither moved immediately.

Eventually, Alex stood.

"So much for your promise not to keep me out late."

"It’s not midnight."

"Yet."

"I’ll have you home before then."

"You sound like someone’s father."

"Get your coat."

"Worse."

Outside, the night had cooled.

Giovanni retrieved the car while Alexander waited beneath the gallery awning.

The drive back began quietly.

Not uncomfortable.

Alexander looked through some of the photographs on his phone.

The sculpture.

The conservatory.

One photograph of Giovanni standing beside Inheritance, apparently unaware Alex had taken it.

Then the photograph of both of them.

He enlarged it.

That was a mistake.

They looked...

Comfortable.

Too comfortable, perhaps.

Alex lowered the phone.

"Send me yours."

"What?"

"The official photo when you get it."

"You were standing beside me. It’ll be the same photograph."

"I know."

"Then why do you need my copy?"

"Giovanni."

"Fine."

A few minutes later, Giovanni said, "Did you really like it?"

"The exhibit?"

"The evening."

Alex looked over.

"Yes."

No teasing.

No qualification.

Giovanni’s hands remained on the wheel.

"Good."

"You put a lot of thought into it."

"It wasn’t difficult."

That was a lie.

Alexander apparently knew it.

"You searched, didn’t you?"

Silence.

Alex smiled.

"How many places?"

"Doesn’t matter."

"How many?"

"Several."

"Restaurants?"

"Yes."

"Concert?"

Giovanni said nothing.

Alex laughed.

"You considered a concert."

"It was an option."

"What else?"

"Theater."

"Giovanni."

"Photography exhibit."

Alex was openly laughing now.

"Why didn’t you just ask where I wanted to eat?"

"Because that defeated the purpose."

The laughter faded.

"What purpose?"

There it was.

Giovanni hadn’t prepared for that question.

He kept his attention on the road.

"To do something different."

"Why?"

"Because we always eat around work."

"Not always."

"Usually."

Alexander waited.

Giovanni continued.

"You said you might want to sculpt again. I saw the exhibition. It made sense."

That explanation was true.

Just not complete.

Alex looked out the window.

"Well, it worked."

"You want to sculpt?"

"I want to try."

Giovanni smiled.

"Then it was worth it."

They reached Alexander’s building at eleven-thirty.

Giovanni stopped beneath the covered entrance.

Alex unfastened his seat belt but didn’t open the door immediately.

"Thank you."

"For dinner?"

"For all of it."

Giovanni glanced toward him.

"The exhibit. Dinner. Remembering the food. Even the ridiculous dietary note I’m now fairly certain you wrote."

Giovanni’s expression betrayed him.

Alex stared.

"You actually wrote no raisins?"

"They asked about restrictions."

"Raisins aren’t a restriction."

"They are when you complain about them enough."

Alexander laughed.

"You’re ridiculous."

"You ate safely."

"From the raisins?"

"And peanuts."

"Those are very different levels of danger."

"Both avoided."

Alex shook his head.

Then became more serious.

"It was well thought out."

Giovanni didn’t know why that pleased him quite so much.

"I’m glad you enjoyed it."

"I did."

A beat passed.

"We should do it again sometime."

Giovanni looked at him.

"The sculpture exhibit?"

"Something that isn’t work."

"Oh."

Alexander raised a brow.

"Why do you sound surprised?"

"I don’t."

"You do."

"Thursday again?"

Alex smiled.

"Are we establishing a schedule?"

"No."

"Good."

"Next Thursday?"

"That sounds exactly like a schedule."

Giovanni considered it.

"Then some other day."

"Better."

Neither specified when.

Oddly, that made it feel more certain, not less.

Alexander opened the door.

"Goodnight, Gio."

Giovanni went still for half a heartbeat.

Gio.

Not Mercer.

Not Giovanni.

A name Alexander had used constantly when they were younger and only occasionally since they’d found their way back into each other’s lives.

"Goodnight, Alex."

Alexander disappeared into the building.

Giovanni waited until the lobby doors closed behind him, then drove away.

Alexander reached his condominium, changed, and checked his phone again.

The photographs were still there.

He opened one of them.

Then, before he could overthink something that shouldn’t require thinking at all, he typed:

Thank you for tonight. I haven’t enjoyed an evening like that in a long time. The exhibit was a good choice: goodnight, Gio.

He read it once.

Too much?

No.

They were friends.

Friends thanked each other.

He sent it.

Giovanni was already home when the message arrived.

He’d removed his jacket and was halfway through pouring himself a glass of water when his phone vibrated.

He read the message.

Then read it again.

Goodnight, Gio.

His attention stayed there longer than it needed to.

He typed:

Glad you enjoyed it. Sleep well, Alex.

Simple.

Normal.

He sent it.

Then put the phone down.

Picked it up again.

Read Alex’s message once more.

This was getting stupid.

It had been dinner.

A sculpture exhibition.

Steak.

Coffee.

Nothing particularly extraordinary.

And yet Giovanni had enjoyed planning it more than he enjoyed most corporate events he’d spent considerably more money organizing.

He’d enjoyed watching Alexander inspect sculptures.

He’d enjoyed hearing him talk about things he wanted to do simply because he wanted them.

He’d enjoyed the photographs.

The arguments about raisins.

The coffee.

Even wasting forty minutes because neither of them seemed particularly eager to leave.

Giovanni set his phone facedown.

There didn’t need to be a reason for everything.

He’d told Alexander something similar by the river.

Maybe this was what he’d meant.

For now, they were friends.

Good friends, apparently finding their way back toward something they’d lost years ago.

That was enough.

Still, as Giovanni headed toward his bedroom, one thought followed him.

Alexander had suggested they do it again.

No project.

No inspection.

No company problem requiring discussion over dinner.

No particular reason at all.

And Giovanni was beginning to suspect that wanting to spend time with Alex was becoming reason enough.