Page 29 of Ambiguous
I look around. I’ve been to this sumptuous old heap before, but it still impresses, the intricate light fixtures and velvet curtains palatial. It could be boudoir-ish, but it isn’t. It’s just… distinguished.
We’re shepherded into a ballroom with dozens of tables, all decorated as for a fancy wedding, and find our way to the table in front. “You’d think that they’d let me choose a seat,” I whisper to Loren. “I’d prefer to be out of the spotlight at this.”
“There’s enough star power here to light up Manhattan. You’re diluted.”
I look around, spotting a few A-list actors, Grammy winners, and politicians. “Perhaps.” I grin. “Then maybe I don’t have to stay for the whole thing.”
“You never have to stay for the whole thing. But,” their eyes are sincere, “I appreciate you coming.”
This charity is Loren’s special baby, an organization for homeless LGBTQ+ youth. Loren was helped by a similar one when they told their parents they were enby and it didn’t go well. Once I learned the story, I made sure to donate generously. Especially since I met so many kids like Loren when I was young and rootless.
That said, I’m really not one for schmooze fests. I get enough of those at backstage meet and greets.
“Always happy to help,” I say, hooking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter who does a double take when he sees me. I grin at him.
Loren shrugs. “After dinner, there’s a band. Stay for a while, then leave.”
“Deal.”
I leave Loren and say hi to a few people I know, both in the music industry and filmmaking, and make sure to thank the organizers. After an hour, it’s time to sit down for dinner and the charity auction. Frankly, I’d rather have a burger than the nouvelle cuisine they’re serving, which is about six bites of foam.
A couple of tiny courses in, I need a break and escape down the hall.
* * *
When I emerge from the loo, I bump into my new favorite person looking suave in a tuxedo. I grab his arm to steady myself, and he blinks at me, startled, before a smile spreads across his face.
“Sam! What a pleasant surprise. I didn’t think I’d see you until our dinner!”
He tilts his head to the side. “What are you… Why are you here?”
“Attending a charity fundraiser. You?”
“My grandfather has an event.” His cheeks pink, and I want to pull him close and give him a hug. There’s something about Sam that draws me to him. Makes me want to shelter him from everything—even though I know he doesn’t need help, since he’s, you know, a competent lawyer.
But maybe lawyers need support, too.
“What room are you in?” I ask, wanting to keep talking with him.
“Over there.” He points. “Where is yours?”
Now it’s my turn to point.
“Cool.”
A group of people walk by who I know vaguely, and one of them taps my shoulder. “Hey,” I say, smiling, but I really want to talk to Sam, not be dragged into other conversations. I lean in and get a whiff of his aftershave. “Want to go for a walk?”
Sam looks worried. “I’m supposed to be, you know, seen.”
His eyes shift to where his grandfather is framed by the open doors to a ballroom, and I get the picture.
“Do you ever feel that he’s, well, kind of using you? I mean,” I add hastily, “I shouldn’t assume. Maybe you love these events.”
He presses his lips together. “That’s complicated. It can get old. But it’s my duty.”
“To your family?”
Sam’s shoulders hike up. “Not only to my family, although if you ask me in public, that’s what I’ll say. But to the queer community.”
