Page 60 of Back Room Host

Laboriously, I pushed the chair back to the table and sat in front of the laptop. I surfed the net for a bit and got distracted by a photo blog, which compelled me to edit a few pictures.

Since I hadn’t been able to go out for a week, I had plenty of photos of Luca and the living room. And when I was done with all of those, I resorted to older pictures I had taken of Clé and Sandro at the club.

Clé and Noé had already asked me what I was doing on New Year’s Eve, and I lamented to them that I was missing out on the most lucrative night of the year. Clé said he would come over and bring something. And when Noé heard about it, he said he would stop by late in the afternoon. He probably wanted to minimize the risk of an alcohol relapse by meeting Clé.

“Dammit!” The sound of Hector’s frustrated voice startled me as he appeared around the corner, heading straight for the minibar. “Knowing you’re here makes it impossible for me to concentrate on work.”

“I’m sorry,” I said calmly. “Do you think I like it?”

Hector poured himself a cognac and turned to me. “Do you want something too?”

I just nodded and already knew what he would pour for me. Lagavulin. Then he came around the couch with the two glasses in his hand and sat down with me at the table.

“Oh, or would you rather sit on the sofa?”

“I’ve been sitting there all day,” I replied, smiling. “To be honest, I can hardly stand the living room anymore.” I took the glass gratefully and we clinked.

“What are you doing?”

It didn’t surprise me that he sounded genuinely interested. Hector had never been the type to pretend interest. Moreover, our reunion showed what a terrible actor he was. Even though Ihad just bathed, I felt despicable sitting in front of him now, not in a suit as usual.

“Not what I should be doing,” I admitted.

He laughed and made a grunting sound, then stared at me. “Funny how things turn out,” he said nostalgically and leaned back. “What are we going to do now?”

Good question.

21

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Luca

With each passing day, I felt more drawn to Juri, making things worse. The incident at Exil happened almost two weeks ago, and he acted as if nothing had happened.Good Lord!He even had such a loose tongue that he kept teasing me. How many times had he made some frivolous comment and offered himself to me? The situation was so absurd. I saw no reason to take his advances seriously, especially since he was the one who had refused to kiss me back then—for whatever reason. But it was clear to me that our encounter at Exil was only about satisfying his needs. Not about me.

I was only in it for the satisfaction too.

So, calm down.

It’s absurd to think it could be more than that.

But, damn, that was so hot!

I clicked my tongue in disdain, irritated by my own thoughts. Despite working behind the bar and attempting to manage orders, my brain refused to cooperate. I was too distracted, all because of Juri, that rascal. It was my own fault—I had thrown him down the stairs. If my guilt hadn't tormented me so much, I would never have considered bringing him to my place.

Just one more week, then he gets the walking boot. I hope it helps him climb the stairs again.

But that wasn’t the only reason I had brought him home. I saw an opportunity to atone, not just for Juri but also for Jérôme. It didn’t matter how I felt about it; what I hoped to achieve was irrelevant. I didn’t matter. My feelings were unimportant, and my guilt was too overwhelming to ever be loved by anyone anyway.

My thoughts were drowned out by the metallic beats of the industrial sounds. I placed two beers on the counter, wiped the sweat from my forehead with my forearm, and collected the money. The club was packed, and all the bars were open. Daniel and I served the small bar on the main floor and we were quite busy. The loud music seemed to be an attempt to drive away any chance of quiet contemplation.

It was only ten o’clock, but instead of their usual wave and gentle electro, the DJs started the evening by blasting everything they had right from the start. The music boomed and rattled in my head, which made it hard for me to understand the orders, forcing me to rely on lip-reading. Strobe lights kept flickering throughout the venue, making me feel like I was about to have an epileptic seizure.

You might have assumed that was already demanding enough for me, but thoughts of Juri wouldn’t leave me alone. No matter how hard I tried to banish him from my mind, he kept coming back. I saw him on the dance floor, moving smoothly with gentle movements to the hard beats, almost weightless. Then I remembered the moment when he held me and calmed me down a week ago when I went berserk. It had felt so good. Somehow so right. So warm.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus on work. But when I opened them again, the light flashed once more.

“The vodka’s running low,” Daniel called next to me. “Could you get some?”

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