The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Tree

Twenty Two

Ian caught my eye and grinned. "It's nice to see you again. I didn't know you'd be in today, your mom mentioned you'd probably be busy with school."

Before I could respond, he untied the belt of his robe and let it fall to the floor.

I blinked. Then blinked again. "Oh."

He wasn't wearing anything underneath; just flesh. And I tried my best to remain professional. From my peripheral vision, I could see my mom pretending to fiddle with a clamp, failing to hide a smug little smirk.

This was a set up.

A sneaky, ruthless set up and I'm afraid to admit it was working.

The artist, Harper, barely glanced up from her palette. "Alright, Ian, half turn toward the light... Perfect."

I tried to keep my eyes on the lighting rig, but the whole room felt warmer. I was adjusting the second lamp when Ian said conversationally, "You look like you're trying very hard to act like this is normal."

I gave him a dry look. "That's because it's not normal."

He chuckled, unbothered. "Fair. But don't worry. You're not exactly my type."

Well, that was rude. "Not your type?"

"I'm gay," He said easily, striking the next pose.

There was a beat of silence before I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. "Good to know. You can keep all the awkward tension for yourself then."

From across the room, my mom suddenly found the floor very interesting.

Once the lighting was good enoch for the artist and the artist no longer needed me, I made my way towards the door, my mom not too far behind me.

The moment we were out of earshot of the studio, I stopped and crossed my arms over my chest.

My mother avoided my eyes, suddenly fascinated by the art catalogues stacked on the gallery counter. "So... How was the lighting setup?" She asked, her voice light and innocent. "Was everything well adjusted?"

"Seriously mom?"

"What?"

"You know exactly what. You invited me into a room with a naked man because you thought I'd... What, swoon into a relationship on the spot?"

She gave me a sheepish smile. "I thought maybe you'd find him interesting. He's handsome, polite, works in the nonprofit sector..."

"Mom," I interrupted, leaning closer, "He's also gay."

That finally made her look up, surprise flickering across her face. "Gay?"

"Yes," I said, drawing out the word for emphasis. "As in, not interested in me. As in, you were matchmaking me with zero research."

My mother winced, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Oh, well... I suppose I should've asked first."

I snorted. "Yeah, that would've been a good place to start. I'm pretty sure my dignity is still somewhere in Studio B, hiding behind the softbox."

She bit her lip, clearly fighting a smile. "But he is nice, right?"

I threw my hands up. "We're not doing this." I turned to start heading back toward the front desk, muttering, "I already have a date tonight anyway..."

That made her perk up instantly. "Another date? Is it with the same guy from last night?"

"Not telling," I shot back without looking over my shoulder.

It's not a date. At least not, officially.

Violet invited me out to get drinks later and I said yes. Then, twenty minutes later, Harry was texting me to see if I was doing anything today. We were just making casual conversation. I saw him less than 24 hours ago, we were not planning on seeing each other again so soon. Only, when I mentioned that I was going to the bar with my friend, he mentioned that he was planning on getting drinks after work with a few co-workers. And if we just so happen to bump into one another, it was just a happy coincidence.