Setting for Eight, Dinner for Two
By B.G. Thomas
3/5
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About this ebook
To overcome the bad ending of a relationship, Charlie Brooks and a friend plan to decorate his home for the holidays—including elaborate table settings like those made by local ceramicist Tory Phillips. The pieces are exquisite, but Charlie’s on a budget. So Tory convinces him to take his classes and try his hand at making his own dishes for the dinner party Charlie dreams of hosting. As they work together, they grow closer, and the fantasy gathering feels less important than what’s happening between them. When the big day arrives, it might be more magical than Charlie ever imagined.
A story from the Dreamspinner Press 2019 Advent Calendar "Homemade for the Holidays."
B.G. Thomas
B.G. Thomas lives in Kansas City with his two husbands—which yes, is different, but amazingly rewarding and wonderfully romantic. They have two sweet rescue dogs named Oliver (who the breed name Dorkie applies perfectly) and Frodo (who is just learning to be a dog). He is missing his soul dog Sarah Jane very much, but she will live on forever in several of his books and in his heart. He is also blessed to have a lovely daughter and they love to hang out. B.G. loves to read romance, comedy, fantasy, thrillers, mystery, science fiction, and even horror—as far as he is concerned, as long as the stories are character driven and entertaining, it doesn’t matter the genre. He has gone to literature conventions his entire adult life, where he’s been lucky enough to meet many of his favorite writers. He has made up stories since he was a child; it’s where he finds his joy. In the nineties, he wrote for gay adult magazines but stopped because the editors wanted all sex without plot, and edited his setups right out. “The sex is never as important as the characters,” he says. “Who cares what they are doing if we don’t care about them?” Excited about the growing male/male romance market—where setup and cute meets is where it’s at—he began writing again. He submitted a novella and was thrilled when it was accepted in four days. Since then the romantic tales have poured out of him. “It’s like I’m somehow making up for a lifetime’s worth of story-telling!” “Leap, and the net will appear” is his personal philosophy and his message. “It is never too late,” he testifies. “Pursue your dreams. They will come true!” You can read about whatever he’s working on right now or whatever he’s rambling on about at his website/blog at: bthomaswriter.wordpress.com Facebook: www.facebook.com/bgthomaswriter Twitter: twitter.com/BGThomasBooks He is always happy to hear from his readers!
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Book preview
Setting for Eight, Dinner for Two - B.G. Thomas
Table of Contents
Blurb
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS!
About the Author
By B.G. Thomas
Visit Dreamspinner Press
Copyright
Setting for Eight, Dinner for Two
By B.G. Thomas
To overcome the bad ending of a relationship, Charlie Brooks and a friend plan to decorate his home for the holidays—including elaborate table settings like those made by local ceramicist Tory Phillips. The pieces are exquisite, but Charlie’s on a budget. So Tory convinces him to take his classes and try his hand at making his own dishes for the dinner party Charlie dreams of hosting. As they work together, they grow closer, and the fantasy gathering feels less important than what’s happening between them. When the big day arrives, it might be more magical than Charlie ever imagined.
Chapter One
WHEN THE doorbell rang, Charlie Brooks was able to get to the door before the deep, lovely Dong, ding, bing, bong, ding, bing, ding, dong! Ding, dong, bing, bong, bong, bing, ding, dong could finish.
After all, the sequence of notes was pretty long, and he was excited by who he thought it was. Who he was hoping it was.
He opened the door.
And—yes!
It was his best friend and boss, the fabulous Gay Aventură. She was the best friend a gay man could have, and working for her, a booking agent to the stars, meant he had the coolest job ever—especially for a gay man. Why just the other day he’d spoken to Connie Jax
Jacques, the lead singer of the pop group Electric i (a group whose music he wasn’t all that familiar with but he knew was getting more famous every day). He’d had dinner with Academy Award nominee, Spencer Morrison. Gay told him the actor was flirting with him, but the idea was ridiculous. Why would such a gorgeous man flirt with someone as plain and boring as he was? And how could Spencer Morrison be gay? He was rumored to have dated or slept with everyone from Ariana Grande to Zoe Boyle. At least that’s what WE Weekly—the favorite magazine of doctor’s offices everywhere—said.
As usual Gay looked fabulous. Today the peacock was her theme. She was wearing a high-waisted tea dress covered in a peacock-feather print, a faux mink coat (she didn’t believe in killing), a shawl with a pattern that matched her dress exactly, and a stunning peacock beaded bag. Her outfit set off her pale, creamy skin perfectly. And then there was her jewelry—she wouldn’t be Gay without her jewelry. Today that meant a necklace of opals the iridescent color of the eyes of peacock feathers, with coordinating bracelets, earrings, and large rings on her hands. And that wasn’t even mentioning her hat, a buccaneer-style creation with a half-dozen-feathers of different lengths (yes, peacock feathers; what else?) swooshing back behind her.
Avon calling!
she chimed in her musical voice, beautiful dark eyes wide with mirth. She let out her boisterous laugh, pressed the doorbell again with a perfectly, beautifully manicured finger (the selfsame color as her jewelry), and sang along: Do mi re sooooo, do re mi dooooo! Mi do re sooooo, so re mi dooooo!
Of course she knew the notes.
Charlie loved her voice, and he loved that music.
Gerald had hated it.
It’s that stupid Beatles song, ‘Let ’Em In,’
he’d say. "God, I hate that song!"
It was Wings,
Charlie would remind him, as usual. And actually,
he would sometimes add, it’s from the Westminster Chimes. The same one Big Ben uses.
Sometimes he’d even say something like, "Which comes from Handel’s Messiah," although he didn’t know why he bothered. Gerald never paid much attention when Charlie shared the information he’d gathered his whole life. It bored Gerald. And it didn’t make him hate the notes any less. In fact, Charlie had come home one day, shortly after Gerald had officially moved in, to find he’d replaced the doorbell that had been a part of the house for decades (maybe since it had been built?).
It was that same obnoxious buzzer with its bleating—Brrrrzzzzzaaatttt!—Charlie had tossed out and replaced with the original doorbell a few days after Gerald moved out. It was Charlie’s way of reclaiming his home, a way to exorcise Gerald’s cheap, if not evil, spirit from the house. Thank goodness Charlie had liberated Aunt Charlotte’s bell from the garbage where Gerald had thrown it.
Just like he’d started going by the name Charlie after his aunt died. Before then, everyone had called him Charles, which was what his mother always called him. But his aunt’s dear friends always called her Charlie, and it made him feel as if he were living, or trying to live, in her honor.
That was another weird thing about Gerald. He always used Charles,
even though Charlie was already going by his nickname when they met.
It had never bothered Charlie that much, because Gerald hated to be called Gerry or Ger. He figured it was simply that Gerald liked more formal names. But it wasn’t until after he left that Charlie realized that Gerald didn’t call Harry Harold
or their neighbor Rob Robert.
Why respect the wishes of people he hardly liked, but not me? There was so much he’d put up with. So much. And why?
Why did I put up with him?
He’d asked himself that question a lot since Gerald had left.
Because you were afraid of being alone, said an inner voice. You thought he was too good for you. That you didn’t deserve anyone better.
It was his aunt, of course. Or at least the part of her that would always live inside him. She seemed to pop up in his mind when he needed her, and she’d been popping up a lot lately.
But today was not a day to think about his ex. Today was a day to think about his friend.
I come bearing gifts!
Gay cried.
Charlie grinned and forgot all about Gerald. Who knew what Gay could mean when she said gifts
? It could mean anything from wineglass charms in the form of little plastic men wearing speedos, to trips all over the country. After all, she was a booking agent. She could write it all off. It drove Gerald insane, Charlie getting to travel like that, even though she’d paid to bring him along more than once.
Whatever the word gifts
meant today, it would be something that would make him smile. He needed to smile. The empty house, although better than the alternative, seemed especially empty today. He was lonely. If he didn’t distract himself, he might find himself