yet, the ghost of their love-making lingers, and Avery must feel it too. And he must want it too, if the look he’d thrown at Alejandro is anything to go by. But he decides now isn’t the time to explore that further, and he moves into the kitchen and picks up his phone.
Garrett has been working for him for almost six years now. It had taken Alejandro a while to find a personal chef he trusted, who would also take the weird hours and bad attitude, and he’s come to like the man. He’s something of a celebrity himself with an internet fame showing off photos of his food. He’s won awards and charges an absurd amount, and he shouldn’t have time for Alejandro, but he always does.
And he doesn’t use Garrett all the time. Sometimes his brain is just wired too tight, in too many knots, and all he can stomach is dry toast and cold cereal. But he’s grateful to have him now, because there’s no way Alejandro wouldn’t make a mess of this week if it was left up to him.
“I didn’t think you were going to be home this month,” Garrett says when he picks up.
With a sigh, Alejandro leans against the counter and eyes a bottle of wine that he’s telling himself not to touch. Drinking will only lower his inhibitions, and he’s not sure he’s ready for that. He knows he won’t be able to keep his hands off Avery this entire time, but maybe he can delay it for a short while.
“I have a guest,” he says. “He’s celebrating Chanukah over here with me. Do you have experience with that?”
“My husband is Jewish,” Garrett says. “Do you want me to prep for all eight nights?”
And well, he’s not sure. His family is nominally Catholic, which is to say he can remember his first communion, and he thinks he’s been to Mass on either Christmas or Easter in the last decade. His mother has a crucifix hanging in the front room that she looks at from time to time, and she tries not to use God’s name when she swears. But it’s never been present in his home, and Christmas was always a secular affair that revolved around food and gifts and enough laughter to fill the rest of the coming year.
He knows that some Jewish holidays are somber—a lot of them, actually. But he knows some are sweet and happy. He’s just not sure which one this is, and he really wants to get it right for Avery—not just to make up for the year before, but because no one deserves to be alone like that.
“I don’t know,” he finally answers. “He hasn’t said, and I’m not sure what’s tradition.”
Garrett sighs like he’s thinking. “Every family is different. How many people will there be, and do you know what nights they’re coming?”
He flushes, and he feels a sort of raging guilt he tries to keep tucked inside him. “It’s just us two. No one else.”
Garrett makes another soft noise—something like pity maybe, and Alejandro bristles but doesn’t call him out on it. “I’ll be over at four. Make sure the kitchen is cleaned up and I have an open space to work.”
Alejandro isn’t sure if that’s some sort of religious requirement or if it’s just Garrett being fussy, but he takes it seriously and he transports the liquor and drinking glasses to his curio cabinet in the lounge. There’s not much else to tidy, and by the time he’s done, he looks up to see Avery watching him. He looks beautiful there, propping his shoulder up against the wall, and Alejandro bites down on the inside of his cheek as he straightens and clasps his hands behind his back.
“Did you go to finishing school?” Avery asks, stepping more fully into the room.
Alejandro blinks, but the question startles a genuine laugh out of him that he can’t take back, and he sees the shock on Avery’s face at the sound. “I’m not a Victorian duchess, so no, I didn’t go to finishing school. What in the world…?”
Avery gives him a challenging look then mimics his pose and well…he sees it. He didn’t used to be such a stuffy, uptight prick. He was a child once, with skinned knees and dirt on his cheeks. He was an awkward teen with a spotty face and glasses and a gap between his front teeth that the kids used to mock him for. He was a nervous university