“Fresh out, smartass,” I teased.
His cell rang. He fished it out of his back pocket and looked at the number. “It’s Eme,” he said. “Hey, this is Jonah…” He walked out of the hotshop with its constant hiss of burning furnaces and churning air conditioning to take the call.
“Who’s Eme?” I asked Tania, as we set up lunch on fold-up table and chairs, well away from the fire and trays of loose glass.
“Eme Takamura,” Tania said, forking a bite of her salad. “She’s the curator of the gallery that’s displaying Jonah’s installation in the Wynn.”
My eyes bulged. “His installation’s at the Wynn? Isn’t that a big-time hotel?”
“Super big time,” Tania said. “Jonah didn’t tell you?” She sniffed when I shook my head. “Figures. He’s modest to the point of annoying. Anyway, Eme got wind of him through Carnegie and after seeing some of his work, she set up to house his project in the Wynn Galleria.”
“That’s incredible.”
“What’s incredible is you and Jonah. I’m so happy for you guys, I can’t stand it.”
“You seem surprised,” I said.
“You kidding?” she said around a mouth full of greens. “I’m shocked. I honestly thought…” She trailed off as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.
“You thought what?”
Tania glanced up at me, then around to the door where we could see Jonah pacing and talking. “The Jonah I know has always been so serious. Intent on his work, you know? Since you’ve been back in town he’s been different. He smiles more. Laughs more. He’s always been a smartass, but now he’s a kinder, gentler smartass. He still works his butt off—and mine—but it’s as if some kind of weight or shadow has been lifted. And now finding out you two are together…” She shook her head. “It’s not everyday he lets in someone into his life. You’re the first since I’ve known him. It’s huge. Maybe now he’ll rethink letting everyone else back in.”
“At least for his installation,” I said. “I want everyone to see it.”
“Me too. He’s so talented. And a truly good guy. Selfless. Maybe too selfless, trying to protect everyone he cares about, so much that he neglects his own happiness.”
The door screeched open and Jonah returned, his hands fidgety with his cell phone. “Eme wanted a progress report. I told her two more weeks and we can start moving boxes over to the space.”
“Two weeks is enough,” Tania said.
But studying the display of his phone, Jonah looked pale.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“Eme said she sent out invites for the installation opening,” he said, his voice tight. “Big names, a lot of her connections. She sent one to the Chihuly Studio.”
Tania’s fingers rose to her lips. “And?”
Jonah’s glance darted between us. “She got a response saying Dale is really busy in early October, but he’d try his best to attend.” Jonah scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Eme sent an invite to the studio. I thought maybe they’d send a representative, if they sent anyone.”
“But Dale might come?” Tania rose to her feet. “Personally?”
“Holy shit,” I said.
“Oh my god, holy shit.” Tania threw arms around Jonah, who looked dazed over her shoulder. “Holy…” She threw him off, seized her fork and crammed a few bites in her mouth. “Eat. Hurry up. Let’s get back to it. There’s a bunch of stuff with the still water I want to finish.”
“And the rays of sunlight,” Jonah said.
“And holy shit, Dale Chihuly. In person.” One last bite and Tania bustled off to the back room, leaving Jonah and I alone. I got up and slipped my arms around his neck, hugging him tight. I left my hands entwined in his hair, and locked eyes with him.
“Look at my talented boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend, huh?” He wrapped his arms around my waist. “I…” He glanced away with a short laugh. “I was going to make a joke right there, but I like boyfriend too much.”
“Dale freaking Chihuly,” I said.
“I know. It’s surreal. But not for sure. He’s busy. He might not make it at all…”
“Or he might.” I glanced down, ran my hand over Jonah’s chest. “What can I do to help? Maybe contact some of your old friends from UNLV or Carnegie?”
Jonah stiffened. “I don’t know. We’ll see. I have too much work to do right now.”
“I’ll do it.” I pulled him closer. “You’re being exhibited at the Wynn for god’s sake. It’s a big deal. Don’t you think it would be awesome to have all your old friends there?”
“I haven’t talked to them in a year,” Jonah said. “The first thing they hear from me is an invite to a gallery show? They’ll think I’m a pretentious asshole.”
“Not if you let me handle it.”