Chapter Four
By Thursday, Graham was ready to pull his hair out. Three consecutive, ten-hour days packed around a too-small table in a windowless conference room was enough to make anyone lose their mind. When the clock struck five, Graham was almost convinced he'd never see the light of day again.
As his final day onsite with this department, the sense of urgency had been palpable, the pressure to tie up loose ends and finalize design considerations had caused tensions to flare and conversations to spiral in unproductive circles for longer than anyone had the patience for. When things finally wrapped up – at nearly seven PM – the room was exhausted. Faces were pale and countenances disheveled, and yet a quiet hum of victory vibrated on the air. As Graham started to pack up, Charles approached him.
“Good work today, Graham,” he sounded tired but sincere. “We put you through the gauntlet this week.”
“That’s the job,” Graham shrugged off the compliment. “But thank you, I appreciate it.”
“I know we’ve already kept you late, but the team would love to take you out to dinner if you’re available.”
Graham hesitated. He was dying to get back to the hotel, to shed his stuffy work clothes and take a hot shower, but he knew that professionalism – and politeness – meant he should accept the offer.
“That would be wonderful,” Graham smiled
Like most business dinners, it was lengthy, filled with conversation, meandering stories, mediocre jokes, and a steady stream of drinks. Fortunately, the refills were plentiful and the food was top notch, and Graham found that the time passed surprisingly quickly (he even found himself, somewhat reluctantly, enjoying himself). Outside of the conference room, the team was willing to let a little more of their personalities surface, and Graham couldn’t help but feel a sense of camaraderie after the long hours spent together over the past two weeks.
Knowing he started consulting with a new group on Monday, Graham felt a strange pang of sadness, a loss of the familiarity he wasn’t aware he’d developed. He knew this was silly; he knew he’d see most of them around the office next week, but he still found himself less-than-excited to have to build up new rapport with a whole new group of people. Thank God Charles would help bridge the gap.
By the time the drinks were finished and the bill was paid, it was nine-thirty.
When he arrived back at the hotel a few minutes before ten, the lounge had emptied out. He saw Archie wiping down the counter and stacking the rubber bar mats neatly in the dishwashing rack. He moved a bit slower than usual, likely due to the lack of thirsty patrons, but seemed to maintain his usual air of contentment. It felt strangely intimate, seeing Archie when he wasn’t switched on for work, like a glimpse behind the scenes. He wondered how much of his cheerful, bartender persona stuck around after the night wrapped up.
Graham let out a breath and walked over to the bar.
“I take it I missed last call,” he said, his voice warm with sarcasm.
Archie looked up from his work in surprise, which quickly turned into a friendly smile. “Just barely,” he answered, leaning on the counter.
“Damn,” Graham snapped his finger in mock disappointment. “And here I was in desperate need of a night cap.”
Archie laughed. “Long day?”
Graham reflexively ran a hand through his hair. “You could say that. Solid eleven hours in the office, and then the client wanted to take me out to dinner. Felt like I couldn’t say no.”
“Yikes,” Archie grimaced. “Hopefully that wasn’t too bad?”
Graham’s head bobbled slightly as he weighed the evening in his mind. “It really wasn’t. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was ready to be back three hours ago, but I made it. And hey, at least the food was good.”
“Where’d you go?” Archie asked.
“Andiamo, I think it was called?”
“Oh yeah, I know it,” Archie nodded. “Good spot.”
“Yeah, it was.” They both stared at one another for a moment, until Graham felt his cheeks start to flush with unfamiliar embarrassment. “Anyways, I shouldn’t keep you from closing up. I’m sure you’re ready to get out of here, but I leave town tomorrow morning, so I guess I just wanted to say…,” Graham paused, realizing he had no idea how he wanted to finish this sentence. “Thank you for the company this week. It meant a lot.”
Archie smiled, his head moving in the faintest nod, his eyes clouded with something Graham couldn’t quite interpret. After what felt like minutes, he spoke. “There’s a bar just down the road. I stop in there sometimes if I’m not ready to go home yet after work. If you were serious about that night cap?” His voice was unexpectedly tense.
Graham froze, his stomach turning over in his abdomen, and for a moment he wasn’t sure what to say. The idea sounded nice; after the week of having Archie’s divided attention at the hotel bar, a quiet night, just the two of them, sounded incredibly appealing. But it also sounded…intimate? Graham searched for a better word, but nothing came to mind. The intimacy implicit in Archie’s invitation exhilarated him, but also felt somehow inappropriate or dirty. Drinks with someone nearly fifteen years his junior? Graham could just imagine the comments.
But as his eyes refocused and Archie’s face came back into view, Graham identified that dark look in his eyes, the one that had been elusive before. Archie was nervous, and somehow that realization warmed Graham’s heart.
“Sure,” he heard himself say. “I’d like that.”
The place was about five minutes down the road, a small sports bar in a strip mall that felt like any Midwestern neighborhood hangout spot. Graham pulled into the parking lot about 10:30, after dropping his bag in his room and changing into something a little less formal than his work attire. Archie had needed to finish closing down the bar anyways, so they’d agreed to meet here.
He didn’t want to admit that he stressed out about what outfit to wear. He usually didn’t pack clothes for “going out” while on his work trips, but he didn’t want to show up in something sloppy that he’d wear to lounge around his room. In the end, he decided to go with an extra t-shirt he’d packed, a muted salmon color that always contrasted nicely against his skin, which he wore beneath a heather gray quarter-zip pullover. It was casual, but still presentable, and – in his humble opinion – emphasized his chest nicely. Not that that was a concern or a priority. After all, he was sure this was nothing more than a friendly drink. But still, he’d the confidence boost where he could get it.
Graham released a shaky breath and put his rental car in park, turning down the radio. In the sudden quiet, the reality of his situation began to set in.
“What the hell am I doing?” He asked himself. Going for drinks with a stranger he met on a work trip, much less an attractive young bartender, felt wildly out of character. Worse, it felt like some cliche side plot on a daytime soap. Graham didn’t do things like this; he didn’t have affairs. Sure, he’d browsed the apps once or twice over the past year, but he hadn’t let himself go so far as to meet anyone yet. Trying to talk to anyone younger than him felt gross and predatory; talking to anyone older than him just felt sad.
But somehow, with Archie, it felt…energizing. He enjoyed Archie’s company and felt like they connected, though he couldn’t even begin to articulate how. Besides, Archie had asked him to go for a drink, so he didn’t have anything to feel guilty about. Right?
His mental spiraling was interrupted when a sleek, white Mustang GT parked next to Graham’s nondescript Toyota Accord. The Mustang cut its engine, and the door opened as Archie stepped out.
For just a second, Graham let himself watch Archie climb out of the car, rising from the low cabin in a fluid, graceful move. He, too, had changed out of his work attire and was sporting a loose-fitting, off-white hoodie – which accentuated the olive complexion of his skin – and an expensive-looking pair of Air Jordans. It was a casual but undeniably stylish outfit, the kind of urban streetwear Graham knew was trendy but could never pull off at his age. He choked down a bout of insecurity that threatened to well up inside him and turned off his vehicle.
“Hey,” Archie smiled as Graham climbed out of the car. He looked happy and almost relieved to see him. “I see you found it.”
“Oh yeah,” Graham chuckled, standing awkwardly in front of his car. Away from the strictly-business atmosphere of the hotel bar, he was aware of a strange urge to greet Archie with a hug, to treat him like an old, dear friend. He forced himself to stand still. “You weren’t kidding about this place being close.”
“Yeah, I stop here many a late night on my way home from the hotel. It’s good. Drinks are cheap.”
“Say no more,” Graham laughed, gesturing for Archie to lead the way inside.
They stepped inside the dim, blue-lit dive and were greeted by the sounds of alternative rock emanating from unseen speakers. The place was small and somewhat generic, with tattered posters and neon beer signs decorating the walls. The bar took up the right half of the room, across from which a line of small booths hugged the wall. The room narrowed towards the back of the space, where a pool table and a few vintage-looking arcade games glowed and flashed invitingly.
Graham smiled.
Compared to the upscale atmosphere of dinner and the relative sterility of the hotel bar, this place felt…cozy. Homey. Familiar in the best sense.
Archie walked ahead and grabbed two empty stools at the corner of the bar. Graham followed and took a seat.
“Look who’s back,” greeted a friendly, albeit gruff bartender. He had to be in his forties, with a balding head and two tattoo-covered arms. He was in incredible shape, his t-shirt stretched tight across a muscular chest and shoulders. Graham suddenly felt silly for his own wardrobe choice for the night.
“Hey Rob, how ya been?” Archie returned the greeting cheerfully.
“Been good, kid. Just, you know, holding down the fort.” While he spoke, he mixed what looked like an Old Fashioned in a simple, clear tumbler. Graham noticed the ease with which they spoke, the familiarity. He guessed it wasn’t too uncommon for Archie to have friends a decade or two his senior, though he was unsure whether that idea brought him comfort or a hint of jealousy.
“I know the feeling,” Archie raised his eyebrows and sank a little further into his seat. “Can I get a High Life?”
“You got it,” the bartender acquiesced. “And your friend?” He looked at Graham, his gaze suspicious but not unfriendly.
“I’ll do the same, actually,” Graham croaked.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Rob, this is Graham. Graham, Rob.”
“Good to meet ya,” Rob nodded. “Two High Lifes, coming right up.”
Seconds later the bottles appeared, condensation already forming on the cold glass. Graham grabbed one by the neck and raised it in a toast. “Cheers,” he said with a smile.
Archie smiled and clinked his bottle against Graham’s. They both took a drink. As he tilted his head back, Graham noticed a silver chain necklace peeking out from behind the collar of Archie’s hoodie. He hadn't noticed it at the hotel, and wondered if he took it off for his work shifts. Then he realized it was visible because Archie had taken off his polo. In fact, it didn't look like he was wearing any shirt. Graham could see the slope of his neck as it met his shoulders, the olive skin disappearing beneath the cream fabric.
He felt strangely drawn to it, noticing the way it reflected the blue-white light of the bar. Suddenly, he found himself picturing the rest of the chain where it disappeared beneath the collar of Archie’s hoodie, where it fell against the tan skin of Archie’s collar bone, his chest…
“You must be ready to get back home,” Archie said casually, snapping Graham out of his daydream.
“Yeah. Well, in some ways,” Graham confessed. “I’m ready to sleep in my own bed, that’s for sure.”
“Is the hotel that bad?”
“I've stayed in worse.”
“You know,” Archie cocked his head, “in all the time I've worked at the hotel, I’m just now realizing I've never actually seen one of the rooms.”
Graham laughed. “They're not terrible. Spacious, mostly modernized, and the AC works. You've no idea how big a relief that is.” Graham took a drink. “I just never sleep that well on work trips. My mind is always racing, caught up in whatever is on the agenda for the next day. And, I don’t know, not being in my bed, in my space, it just takes me a while to wind down.”
Archie furrowed his brow for a moment. “That makes sense. I’m sure I’d miss my bed after a couple nights away. I can handle the occasional sleepover, but…I do like to get back home to get some proper sleep.”
He flashed Graham a grin that straddled the line between sarcastic and mischievous, and Graham found himself wondering what kind of sleepovers Archie had occasion for.
Graham chuckled nervously. “Yeah, the gin and tonics aren’t just because I have a drinking problem,” he teased. “They do help put me to sleep. Most nights, anyways.”
“Well,” Archie grinned. “Happy I can be a part of making things easier for you.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Graham laughed.
Archie smiled, started to say something, shook his head, and took a drink.
