Page 97 of Summer Lessons
It wasn’t long coming.
“This looks… this looksamazing, Mason. I’m not sure where you got your inspiration, but most of these things are minimal-cost sort of ideas. The ones that aren’t can be written off, but even if they couldn’t—I’m just very impressed. Most executives aren’t this in touch with their employees. Tesko was very lucky to snap you up.”
Usually you keep your tender bits away from stuff that snaps.
The quip crossed his mind, but he… just didn’t. Not enough energy, maybe. Maybe he just couldn’t be the only one to laugh at his own joke.
“Thank you, sir,” he said humbly. “I’m glad you appreciated the idea.” He started to gather his files up and organize, smiling every so often in Hugh’s direction. Why wasn’t he moving? Mason needed him to move so he could call Mrs. Bradford in and they could plan on stage two. He needed time to study his computer and see if any of those bids had been reported early. He had at least three-dozen e-mails to answer.
Finally he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Mr. Goodman?”
“Call me Hugh.” He smiled then, a sort of odd, hooded smile that made Mason think of gecko lizards.
“So, uh, Hugh—is there anything else you needed?”
“Are you married, Mason?”
“No, sir.”
“Seeing a woman?”
“No, sir, I’m gay.”
“Good!”
Mason looked at him sharply. “Mr. Goodman?”
“Hugh!”
I’m not Hugh, you’re Hugh!But again, he kept it to himself. “Uh, Hugh—can I help you with anything else?”
An odd expression crossed Hugh’s face at this point—something between exasperation and longing. It was the same sort of face Terry made when he was planning a vacation he couldn’t afford to take.
“Uh, no, Mason. I’ll….” He brightened. “I’ll see you tomorrow—same time. Let’s see if we can’t have a hiring schedule and a budget request drawn up by the end of the week!”
“Sure,” Mason said. “That will be fine. Thank you so much for asking me to work on this.”
They shook hands, and if Hugh’s hand lingered in Mason’s a little longer than necessary, Mason was already figuring out how they could get Skip into upper-division humanities classes so he could use his new benefits to go for his BA. He barely noticed when Hugh left.
But he did notice Mrs. Bradford’s rather determined walk into his office.
“Mason?”
“Yes, ma’am?” When she used his first name, he could tell she was getting maternal.
“Was that handsome young man trying to hit on you?”
Mason thought about it. “No—why would he do that?”
She closed her eyes as though begging for patience, and Mason had a sudden urge to go fetch her a Kool-Aid and vodka. “No reason, Mason. No reason at all.”
HE SAWa lot of Goodman that week. In fact, they had lunch together on Friday, since Mason wasn’t expecting any sandwiches delivered at his door. Goodman brought bento boxes from home, each one made up with homemade sushi and chilled ahi and salmon. Mason appreciated the artistry, but he had to plan on getting a hamburger or something on his way home.
“That was, uh, very kind of you, Hugh,” he said quietly, putting the lid on his bento box and handing it back so Hugh could put it in the little case. “I had no idea people packed their own sushi.”
Hugh blushed, twin red crescents popping up on his high cheekbones. He cast an appealingly shy look in Mason’s direction. “It’s a hobby of mine. Do you cook?”
“Sometimes. For company, I guess.”
