The Gay Man's Matchmaker

Chapter 3

I hummed to myself, trying to get into the meditation. Last night’s date was still fresh on my mind and I had a photo shoot in an hour. I had to find a way to exorcise the demons and fast! Tommy was at work, unfortunately, or I’d have used his ass for a punching bag. Oh well. Meditation would have to do. I normally don’t need the tape playing soothing sounds in the background, but I was having a more difficult time than usual and I was desperate.

We’d gone to that damned dance club. And Genie made sure I was out on the dance floor for every song … in a highly visible location! My etiquette training almost flew out the door, but I managed to control myself. We stayed there late, and Genie was as loud and flamboyant as can be. Imagine my shock when I turned to the bar and found myself standing next to our stoic waiter from earlier. He was glaring at Genie venomously, so I was able to slink away unnoticed.

I shuddered to think what the next prospect would hold for me. Sighing I pulled out of my meditative position and clicked the machine off sharply. I wasn’t completely calm, but it was probably the best I was going to be able to do. I showered quickly after that and hurried to my shoot, wincing when I saw who I’d be working with.

“Kee,” Adriana Millen greeted me with false excitement. She held out both of her hands to me and I took them, leaning in for the damned air kisses she aimed at me. Fake bitch! “I was so glad to hear you’d be doing this shoot! I insisted that I be the one to work with you.” (Translation: The magazine still likes you, so I’m overseeing things to sabotage your work.) “The last photographer they sent didn’t quite measure up.” (Translation: I’m still looking for someone to replace your ass!)

“Adriana,” I shot back with false charm of my own. “It’s a pleasure.” (Translation: Let’s get this over with so I can get the fuck away from you, you plastic, scheming aging whore!)

Adriana really is all of those things, believe me. I’ve known her since I started. When we met, she was a production editor for Gourmet, working under Jenna Danes, a truly wonderful woman – and I’m not being sarcastic. Jenna gave me my first opportunity, passing over another photographer in the process. Actually, that’s not true. She’s offered him the job, but he showed up two hours late and higher than a kite. I was working on a lesser project for the ad staff when Jenna pulled me away, claiming an emergency. After that, my photo food career took off.

Sadly, Jenna left the magazine last year … after Adriana screwed the head of the production division and got promoted to a position Jenna had been virtually guaranteed. She now runs things over at Food & Wine, which is how I got that account. Therefore, if Adriana does have her way in the end and Gourmet hires another photographer, I won’t be crying in my beer over it. After all, Food & Wine led me to Bon Appetit. And I’m interviewing for Cook’s Illustrated next week, too. Take that, you bag of fucking wrinkles in a camisole!

The shoot went very well, despite Adriana’s nit-picking, and soon I was packing my shit to get out of there.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll expect the usual top quality prints next week, then?” she asked me as I folded up my tripod.

“Absolutely!” I grinned with as many teeth as I could show. “I’ll have them ready by Wednesday.”

“Wednesday, hmm.” She frowned gravely. “I was hoping for Tuesday.”

“The work order said Wednesday when you signed it,” I said calmly.

“You can’t push the date up, just this once?”

Just this once?! It’s never just once, Adriana. And I’m not a fucking idiot!

“Sorry. Jenna has me doing an all-day shoot on Tuesday. Best I can do is Wednesday,” I gave her a shrug.

“Oh. Jenna does?” She tried to act nonchalant, but I could tell she was going fishing. “What’s she up to nowadays? I miss her around here.”

I bet you fucking do! You can’t do the job she did and it’s showing, bitch!

“Pretty much the same old thing,” I said as I stooped to fit the tripod into its jacket.

“What are you shooting for her next week?”

That worm you’re using ain’t nearly big enough, fisher woman!

“She didn’t say,” I replied. Bullshit! She did so! I was doing a photo article issue on wedding cakes for her. But the last thing I was going to do was tell Adriana. That’s all she was good for, anyway. Spying and informing. Gourmet head honchos were starting to notice, too. I met the two recent additions to the production staff. They were just under Adriana’s position, but they didn’t report to her. And the head of production who couldn’t keep it in his pants? He’s been conspicuously absent from the hallways for the last two months.

“Well, I guess Wednesday will have to do,” she sighed. “But I’m noting it in the file that it’ll be late.” She ended that with a small smirk.

Ha! Now’s my chance!

“Note whatever you have to, Adrianna,” I smiled my most sadistic grin. “I already set my availability with Artie and Tina. They were aware of it.”

Her smirk faltered and she winced slightly. Artie and Tina would be her replacements one of these days. And she knew it. I hope she doesn’t try to take up chess, because she can’t strategize for shit!

“Well, then. I’ll see you Wednesday,” she said leaning in for another air kiss. Hopefully it will be the last one. I can’t stand this bitch!

I high-tailed it the hell back to my apartment to get in another session of meditation before Tommy got home. I knew he was leaving work early to meet Lauren at Kelly’s for drinks. They’d set it up last night after we dropped Genie back off at his circus tent. (Okay, his apartment house – but he did remind me of a clown.) Her theory had been that the happy-hour crowd would consist of more appropriate prospects. I thanked God that the girl was taking charge of things!

This time I meditated for an hour after I did my yoga routine. Stretching out always helps me to get rid of the extra tension after dealing with Adriana the piranha. I was feeling very calm and relaxed when Tommy and Lauren came home that night. Good thing, too. They were both brimming with excitement. I sighed in resignation and waited for the news.

“Okay, this time will be better,” Tommy assured me.

I raised a skeptical eyebrow but said nothing.

“His name is Trevor,” Lauren cut in. “And he’s a paralegal, so no yellow clogs!”

I nodded at her mutely and waited for more.

“He’s pretty quiet actually,” Tommy said. “I expected more conversation from him.”

“One more stereotype and I’ll knock you out,” I warned him with a feral glare.

“What’s with you?” He demanded.

“Adriana,” I sighed.

“Oh!” they said in unison.

“How’d that go?” Lauren asked with sympathy.

I’d clued them in to this bitch a long ago so they understood the deal with her.

“She should be fired soon, I guess,” I grunted. “It’s just very annoying to have her breathing down my damned neck on every shoot.”

“She still trying to get you axed?” Tommy’s blunt.

“Yeah, but who the fuck cares? If I lose them I still have Jenna.”

“You’ll never lose Gourmet,” Lauren laughed. “No one else would put up with them.”

“Thanks,” I smiled. “Now,” I speared her with a serious look. “Tell me about this guy. I trust you.”

“Hey!” Tommy glared as he sat on the couch.

“You already proved how bad you are at this!” I growled at him. “She hasn’t. I’m overlooking her own choice in men, mind you, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take to keep you from setting me up with another Genie!”

Lauren laughed and plopped down on the couch next to Tommy.

“Well, he’s really cute!”

“Hey!” Tommy said again.

“Shut up!” I yelled at him. “This is girl talk.” I looked at Lauren again. “How cute?”

“Jet black hair and jade green eyes cute?”

“Hmm. That combination is cute!” I mused aloud making Tommy wince quietly as Lauren and I discussed hot men traits.

“He’s also a photography buff!” she giggled. “He likes to go to shows all the time.”

I have to admit, I never figured on Lauren finding me a prospect I’d have something in common with. She could tell I was intrigued, too, because she leaned forward conspiratorially.

“He has the hottest lip ring, too!”

Tommy groaned in pain as he buried his face in his arms and I laughed.

“Really?”

“Uh huh! You’ll see for yourself!”

“When?”

“Tomorrow night!”

I couldn’t believe it. I was actually kind of looking forward to it, too.