“I'd love to have lunch with you,” Gray said quickly. “When?” It was rare for him to be that anxious or enthusiastic about getting together. Most of the time, he had to be pried from his lair and dragged from his easel. Charlie didn't comment. He assumed that Gray was ebullient about the deal he'd made.
Charlie quickly consulted his book. He was swamped with meetings for the foundation, many of which included lunch. But he had an opening at lunchtime the following day. “How's tomorrow?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“The Yacht Club?” It was Charlie's favorite venue for lunch, either that or one of his other clubs. Gray found the Yacht Club painfully stuffy at times, as did Adam, but they humored him anyway.
“That sounds fine,” Gray said, sounding pensive.
“See you at one,” Charlie confirmed, and both men went back to work.
Gray told Sylvia the following morning that he and Charlie were having lunch, and she looked at him over the stack of pancakes he had just made.
“Is that good or bad?” she asked, looking nervous.
“Good, of course.” He sat down across the table from her with a plate of pancakes of his own. He loved cooking for her. He was becoming the breakfast chef, and she cooked for him at night, or they went out. Everything was falling into place, and they had settled into an easy routine. He left in the morning to go to his studio, where he no longer slept. She went to the gallery, and they met back at her place around six, when they both got home. He usually brought a bottle of wine, or a bag of groceries. He had bought lobsters for them over the weekend, which reminded them both of the golden days on the boat. He hadn't officially moved in with her, but he was sleeping there every night.
“Are you going to tell him about us?” she inquired cautiously.
“I thought I would. Is that still okay with you?” Knowing how independent she was, he tried not to step on her toes.
“It's okay with me,” she said easily. “I'm just not so sure it will be okay with him. It might be a bit of a shock, you know. He might have liked me fine as a passing face in Portofino, but he may be a little less enthused at the thought of this becoming a full-time deal,” which clearly it had become in the four weeks since Gray got home. And it was more than fine with them. Very, very fine.
“Don't be silly. He'll be happy for me. He's always been interested in the women I've been with.”
Sylvia laughed as she poured him a cup of coffee. “Yeah, because they were no threat to him. He probably figured they'd wind up in jail or an institution before they could cause a lot of trouble between the two of you.”
“Are you planning to cause trouble?” Gray asked with interest, looking slightly amused.
“No, of course not. But Charlie could perceive it that way. The three of you have been inseparable for ten years.”
“Yeah. And I'm still planning to see them. There's no reason why they can't see me with you.”
“Well, see what Charlie says. Maybe we should have him over for dinner. I've actually thought of that a couple of times recently. And Adam too, if you want,” although she liked him a great deal less. “I'm just not too crazy about having dinner with women the same age as my kids. Or younger, in Adam's case. But I'll do whatever you think is a good idea.” To Sylvia, it seemed like the diplomatic thing to do.
“Why don't we have Charlie over on his own first,” Gray suggested amiably. He knew she didn't approve of Adam, and he didn't want to push it. At least not quite so soon. But he liked the idea of including her with his two friends. They were an important part of his life, and so was she.
