Never Enough
over each other for six solid weeks, and then it was still all-access here in L.A. for two months. What did you expect?” Her voice was sympathetic, but also a bit dry.Andy glared at the phone. “I expected it to suck! Just not so much.”
“Well, you know you can always come over here. Or we can come over there.”
“I’m mooching around the B side like a stray dog,” he admitted. “Every time they leave the front door open. I’m a mess. If this thing with Zach hadn’t come off, I’d be in Michigan already.”
“It’s only a few more weeks. How’s the Swan Dive going, anyway?”
“God, I love it. When the prince first made contact I thought, well he called my bluff, let’s see. Then Sergei said he’d come out to teach it to us, and I thought okay. Then Zach turns out to be strong like bull and a really good trainer, and boy does he want this to work.”
“No ego problems?”
“That guy barely even has an ego, as far as I can tell. He’s awesome. I kept thinking, those first couple days when Sergei was here, he’s going to crash. He’s going to hit the wall. He’s going to say what the fuck were you thinking, this is insanity. Instead he’s like, one more time.”
Dana heard the admiration in his voice. “That’s what Rory said about dancing with him last year. You know he’s the one who got Mike rehabbed after ‘Democracy,’ when he had that stress fracture.”
“I did not know that. Why did I not know that?”
“Because Victor, and the premiere, and the tour.”
“Oh yeah. I actually heard from Mike after we got started on this. He said if nobody else had offered, he would have.”
Dana hadn’t heard that. “Aw, what a sweetie.”
“Yeah but thank God for Zach because he’s physically perfect for it.
Mike would have made me look like a crone.”
Dana laughed. “That sounded kind of diva, Andy.”
“I am going full diva for this. You know the story of the Bourne staging, right?” Dana made a sound of assent. “Okay, well. Zach has a body image problem because he doesn’t look like Mike. Or me,” he added. “He’s a beautiful mover, but he’s not the typical ballet boy. So he fully gets the wanting to be the swan thing. Mike already is the swan. He could dance it like a dream, I’m sure. The two of them should do it sometime.”
“But not this time.”
“Nope. This time is all about me me me.” His phone’s alarm pinged.
“Ugh.”
“What was that?”
“Time to eat again. If it wasn’t for that one thing at the end, I could do this in my normal state. He’s all, sir, you know this position is designed to minimize the stress on you but I’m still really heavy so please go lift a lot of weight because if I break your neck I’ll never forgive myself.”
Dana was cracking up. “Is he that heavy?”
“Not as heavy as he thinks he is, and it’s all muscle and bone, but he’s maybe ten pounds heavier than me. Normal me, that is.”
“How sore were you the first couple of weeks?”
“Oh my God. Agony. I’ve got foam rollers in every room. I’m getting massages twice a week. But I have to say there’s some satisfaction in going beast mode for once in my life.”
“You? A beast?” Dana couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her voice.
“I’ll send you a selfie. And then I’ll go and have the latest muscle-gain mini-meal. Jesus, I can’t wait to live on fish tacos and champagne again.”
“Go do it. We’ll see you soon.”
“Bye.” Andy stripped down to his briefs, went to the master bathroom, and took a few mirror selfies to show off the new body. Not bad for fifty-two, he thought, and sent the best to Dana. Then he put his pants back on and went
to eat. The next time he checked his phone there was a text: Has Victor seen this yet? Because wow
Andy giggled. No
You may have to make a new episode when he’s in town for the performance
Oh I plan to
LOL
When Victor actually got a look at Andy with his clothes off, he said,
“Holy shit.”
“I hope that’s a holy shit of approval and not of horror.” Andy wasn’t really in any doubt. Especially after Victor got his hands on him. “Uh, catnip, the performance is tomorrow and there are certain things I should not do.”
Victor didn’t say anything. He kept doing things. “Oh, but,” Andy grabbed for his train of thought, “we can do that.”
About ten minutes later, Victor said, “I meant to say hi, sweetheart, I missed you.” Andy cracked up. “You said you were working out. I knew you were working out. But damn.” Victor peeled himself off his husband, shook himself like a wet dog, and looked around the room. “Oh really?”
“Dana’s suggestion.”
“No it was not.”
“I promise. I sent her a selfie.” Andy watched Victor go over to the camera and switch it off.
“You were already, what, eight pounds up when I left?”
“It’s hard to see it day to day, I know. That look on your face was awfully gratifying.”
Victor laughed. “You have to admit you made quite an entrance.”
Victor’s flight got in at a horrible time for traffic, so they’d agreed a car service would pick him up instead of Andy. He’d walked into the quiet house, greeted Molly, and gone looking for his husband. Hearing the ‘I’m up here’ from the bedroom, he’d already been expecting some kind of reunion fun. He wasn’t expecting the Olympian hotness leaning on the bathroom door frame.
“I’ll make a couple of entrances tomorrow.” Andy sat up.
Victor knew exactly what he meant. He couldn’t wait. But he only got these two nights, and then it was back to work. “Do your fishnets still fit?”
Oh really, Andy thought delightedly. “I don’t know. Let’s find out.”
“What, right now?”
“You’ve been gone for three weeks. If you need a little more recovery time we can eat first.” With that gross insult, Andy