Erik The moment I stepped into the hotel room I had to get out of there. For whatever reason lilies seem to be a standard flower used by hotels and it instantly reminded me of the funeral. It was my mother’s favorite flower, which meant that anyone who knew her brought lilies and the heap of flowers that rested on her burial place in the cometary was pile with them. I should have asked for a no flower service and had everyone donate to Cancer research or something. When you’re a son you don’t think of these things, well, I never did. I thought my mother would live forever. She was always there for me in the past, death was out of character for her, it snuck up on her, jumped out of nowhere and hit her with a motorcycle while crossing the street. I had to get out of there. I took a quick shower and almost felt human again after a nine-hour flight with Jack Daniels for company. He’ll be back in a few minutes sweating out of my pores.
Harley The bell rings as I open the door of the cafe. It was the first thing I had installed when I bought the building to open shop. That little vintage bell just makes me smile every damn time. There’s a line of people waiting for their morning hit of caffeine, but I quickly find Mikayla sitting at our usual table and set the box down in front of her. My older sister does not look amused. She’s been especially moody recently. It must be the hormones, but you won’t find me saying that out loud any time soon. “Finally.” She mutters. “Oh relax, I’m not that late.” I make my way behind the counter and stuff 10 dollars into my swear jar before grabbing some forks. Every Saturday we use whatever’s in my jar to buy drinks at our favorite bar. It’s usually enough to buy all six of us two rounds each. What can I say, I’m an advocate for all words. All but one. Mikayla notices my deposit. “What ha
Harley I double check our weekly order list against our stock. Vanessa and Sam are busy with lunch while Marco trudges in with another load of dishes to wash. Not that Marco, the other Marco. They came in a set, where one goes the other follows. I met them while going through Montegranaro on my way to the east coast of Italy. Their fathers were and still are to this day rival shoemakers. When they had no interest in following their father’s footsteps they decided to somehow get out of there and I was more than happy to assist in their escape. They upgraded their mopeds to motorbikes, and we made our way through Italy together. When I opened the café here, I made sure to import and sponsor them both. They say they owe their new life to me, but little do they know I owe my life to them. I was in such a dark place at times I’d be riding on a coastal road and on more than one occasion thought about how easy it would be just to drive off this or that cliff.
Erik “Just wait for me, Okay?” Jack pleads. I nod and he disappears through the door back into the courtyard. I lean against the fence and wait in the alleyway for him to return. It was her again. Why did it have to be her? I wanted to devour her without delay, like some animal. It’s the first time I felt anything other than sorrow, or anger since my mother’s funeral. Simply put, it scares me. The way she stirs me up scares me. I love and despise what she’s doing to me at the se time. I hate losing control, but one look from Harley and I’m coming apart at the seams. I had to leave just to hide my arousal. That hasn’t happened since I was a kid, now twice in one day? As a young boy some days all it took was a warm breeze flowing up my shorts and I’d have to go to the bathroom for a few minutes. Jack comes out and sighs, putting his hands in his pockets. “One-week paid trial. But you need to chill out man.” “I know.
Harley Erik looks out of place in the kitchen. It’s not a small space but his presence makes it feel smaller. He’s undoubtedly a dominant person. I watch Marco give him a rundown of his role and all the exciting things dishwashing entails, like clearing tables and using the industrial dishwasher. “We only serve breakfast and lunch; they are the busiest times. We close at 3:30 and are closed on Sundays. Sometimes you will need to help Vanessa and Sam preparing food, but rarely, and only if they will ask. Any questions?” Erik shakes his head. After retreating into my office for a few hours of thrilling paperwork I emerge in search of food, and a much-needed coffee to see Erik at the sink, rinsing down plates before putting them into the dishwasher tray. Damn, I could watch him be domestic all day. Vanessa grabs my arm and pulls me into a corner. “I can’t work like this. I’m drawing a line.” “Work like what? What’s wrong? What
Erik When I make it to the front of the café Marco watches me sit at one of the vacant tables as I wait for Harley. I don’t know what it is about this particular Marco but he’s suspicious of me. The other one accepted me almost immediately, but this one’s been giving me funny looks all morning. He gives me the impression I’m invading his turf. It was his hand on Harley’s waist in that photo I saw this morning. Maybe they have a romantic history? Harley comes from the kitchen carrying a bag of coffee beans. When Marco sees her, he goes to take the bag from her and starts talking to her in rapid Italian. It irks me to see how comfortable she is with him. She laughs and throws back some banter his way. I know I’m not the most approachable looking person. It’s not just my height, I have this permanent glare fixed to my face that I can’t seem to shake. Not that I want to. It’s not up to me to have to change the way my face looks just so other peopl
Harley That suit, that fucking suit. I swear a well-cut suit does to me what lingerie does to men. John sees me in the kitchen, strides through the café and plants his lips onto mine ignoring everything and everyone around us. “Hey beautiful.” “John, what are you doing here?” John hands me a rose and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me in. “It’s finally over, all the bullshit, all the long hours. I got the promotion. I was hoping you’d join me in a little celebration.” I’ve known John for about amonth now, but we’ve only had a handful of dates. Since a new position was made available at his firm, he’s been working his ass off to get it. I’m not sure where this is heading, and I’m not sure where I want it to go, but I start to feel a small knot form in my stomach. Something’s not right. This is wrong. He’s wrong. I practically have to force the words out. “Oh wow, that’s great. Sure, where do you want to go?”
Erik I don’t understand the feeling that consumes me when I watched her get into that car. I needed to hit something. Repetitively. Preferably that John guy. Boxing has always been my release. Training and sparring are okay, but I only feel sated after a real match. In Norway I usually fight once a month, now it feels like my ever-filling cup is spilling over with whatever this torrent of emotion is. I’m sitting in what was Jack’s old room, now my room. It’s simple but stylish. The furniture is all mid-century modern with colorful prints on the wall. I spent most of my afternoon unpacking and organizing my clothes. I’m still not convinced living here is a great idea, but I have the freedom to leave whenever I want, and go back to my life in Oslo. I sit on the bed and take out my phone. There must be a boxing gym somewhere in this city where someone can point me to a match. I find one nearby, Harry’s Gym. No website, just a number and address.