On the Brink (Vol. 1) (The On the Brink Series) Read Free Page B

content. My fellow inmates look to be a
varied collection of oddballs and outcasts, but they seem like genuinely nice
people. The boss, Berta, is a piece of work. Keeps a neurotic, yappy toy
Maltese named Dolce next to her desk.”
    “Dolce?”
Duncan sputtered. “Isn’t that Italian for sweet, like the movie La Dolce Vita?
That’s sooo wrong.”
    “Tell
me about it. Apparently it’s Dolce as in Dolce and Gabbana. One of the other
transcriptionists, Moxie, is the office manager as well. I liked her right away
because she has a sense of humor. She’s the one who warned me that Dolce’s a
biter.”
    Duncan
threw back his head and howled with laughter. “I see rabies shots in your
future.”
    I
grinned at him. “If that dog bites me, I’m biting him back. Human saliva is
just as nasty as dog, you know. Plenty of germs.”
    Relief
and champagne were a potent mixture, and we bantered back and forth, carefree
and silly together as only best friends can be. By the time our mutual gales of
laughter had finally subsided, I was clutching my sides and begging Duncan for
mercy.
    “Stop...I
can’t...can’t laugh any more. You’re killing me.” I took a deep breath and
wiped my eyes.
    “So,
when do you start this high-risk job, anyway?” Duncan asked.
    “My
brand new, not so high-risk job begins tomorrow at five. Between evenings and
Saturdays, I’ll have the rent by the first. Then I’ll start paying you back and
catching up on other bills.”
    Just
then, I remembered the handsome businessman. “Oh, and I spotted a really yummy
man today. I think he works in my building.”
    “News
of hot men is always welcome,” Duncan grinned. “Is he gay? Maybe you can
introduce us.”
    “I
haven’t met him, but men that good-looking usually turn out to be gay. Or
jerks.”
    “My,
we are cynical tonight, aren’t we? Look on the bright side. Any hot man is
bound to be interested in at least one of us. And you’re way too hot yourself
to stay single forever.”
    Duncan,
the eternal optimist. No one would ever guess, and few knew how difficult his
life had been. It wasn’t something he talked about. Raised in a small town, and
the only child of fundamentalist Christians, Duncan was bullied for his
sexuality at school and beaten for it at home. At fifteen, his parents died in
a car crash, and Duncan was sent to Boston to live with his single living
relative, his father’s estranged older sister.
    Living
with Marjorie was the best thing that could have happened to Duncan. A modern
businesswoman, Marjorie pronounced religion and homophobia both ridiculous and
ignorant. She introduced Duncan to a better, kinder world, where he was valued
for his intelligence and talent, and his sexuality was simply an attribute,
like height or ethnicity. In this new setting, Duncan’s naturally sunny
disposition reasserted itself, and he discovered an interest in photography.
    We
met during our first weeks of art school and became instant friends. And now,
looking into his blue-gray eyes, basking in the warmth of his happiness for me,
I appreciated, once again, how lucky I was to have a true friend like Duncan.
Even if he was forever trying to set me up with attractive men. Many women
might have appreciated such efforts, but I had my reasons for avoiding the
whole dating scene.
    “No
men for now,” I said. “I need to get on my feet financially, and figure out what
to do next. I definitely don’t want to teach at Tremont forever, and I doubt
that transcription will turn out to be all that fascinating. Besides, you know
my track record. Every man I date turns out to be an unmitigated jerk.”
    “That’s
what you always say,” Duncan replied. “Or some variation of that. You look, but
you never leap. At least not since Matt. What he did was terrible, but it’s
been a long time now. One of these days, you’ll have to take a chance on love
again.”
    “Maybe,”
I yawned. “But now isn’t the time. And now that we’ve celebrated, I