American Hunks by Adam Carpenter

Author:Adam Carpenter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riverdale Avenue Books LLC

***

He called him more times than he could count, so many times he felt less like his betrothed and more like an obsessed stalker. Not once did he pick up. After the sixth attempt, it went straight to voicemail. Which meant only one thing: Anton had turned off his phone.

The rain continued, and Matt was beyond soaked.

He’d walked from the gallery to the banks of the Seine, seeking out Anton’s kiosk. It had been closed up, as were the neighboring ones which housed other painters, booksellers, jewelry designers. The storm that had swept over Paris this afternoon had doused the tourist trade, bringing a pall of gray over the city. Even the spires of Notre Dame were covered by a cloud of fog. As he stood on the bridge, watching Bateaux Mouches tourist boats float on by, he felt like he was trapped between two worlds: the one he’d first known and the one he’d created. Happiness couldn’t exist, not in such dreary weather. And if his mood was this bad, he could only imagine the tortured soul that was Anton.

He’d been betrayed by his wife.

He’d been betrayed by his own hidden desires.

The only person is his life who represented pure innocence was his son, Henri.

Which of course was where he’d gone. Why hadn’t Matt thought of that hours ago?

Night had fallen, the grayness of the day giving way to darkness.

Matt hailed a taxi, and in practiced French directed the driver across town to Menilmontant, where Anton had once lived with his ex-wife and their son along the picturesque rue Houdart. Traffic was snarled on the narrow streets, but eventually they drove their way past Pere Lachaise, where Matt asked to be let off at the curb. He skirted out, darting the continual raindrops until he made his way to the building. Anton had lived on the third floor, with a small ledge-like balcony allowing them to sit outside. He gazed upwards and saw the tiny orange glow of a cigarette.

“Anton….” Matt said, calling up.

The response was a flick of the cigarette to the ground, not hitting Matt but making its point nonetheless.

“Let me in. Come on, this is…”

This is what? In the hours he’s spent looking for him, not once had he thought to offer up a reason for what Anton had walked in on. He hadn’t invited any of Stone’s come-ons, and for sure he hadn’t gone through with what the big Texas hunk wanted from him. Matt knew that. So why didn’t Anton know that, too? Why didn’t he feel it? Weren’t they a team? Weren’t they, tonight, supposed to be choosing a date for the wedding? Not trying to explain away a naked man in his office?

“Matt, I cannot talk to you. Not tonight.”

“Well, too bad, you’re going to.”

“I think you are not ready, for this. For us.”

“Dammit, Anton, buzz the door and let me up. I’m not going to scream up at you all night long. The residents across the street deserve to have their rest undisturbed.

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