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“I don’t know who that is.”
“She’s the senior party secretary for the state executive,” Mum said.
“Oh,” Leo said. Those were words that told him nothing. “Okay.”
“Well, she says that Peter Morgan is thinking of retiring—something about some missing electoral funds? And apparently the media found out? Anyway, he might be retiring, so Dad might go up for state preselection.” She beamed at Dad. “Imagine that! The Member for Vaucluse!”
“Well,” Dad said, and laughed, “we’ll see.”
But it was obvious to Leo they’d already both decided that Dad was going to have some sort of political career, which meant that the Fisher family was about to become fodder for the media. So it was lucky, really, Leo thought with a sinking sense of disappointment, that he’d only agreed to a single date with Tristan.
And a single date didn’t have to mean anything at all.
On Saturday night, Leo double-checked the address Tristan had texted him and found himself at a hole-in-the-wall taqueria in Newtown. It looked rundown and suspicious, and Leo figured it was either one of those places that didn’t bother with shiny decor because the food spoke for itself and all the locals knew it, or he’d have food poisoning by the end of the night. Weirdly, he found himself willing to risk it when he stepped inside and saw Tristan waiting for him at a poky little table.
There was a drink already waiting for him, condensation beading on the sides of the glass and leaving a damp ring on the cardboard VB coaster.
“I thought you might like a margarita,” Tristan said, and he sounded almost…nervous? Which didn’t match anything Leo knew about Tristan at all, really.
“Thanks,” Leo said and took a sip. He was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining the way Tristan’s shoulders relaxed. “Did you do something different with your hair?”
Tristan touched his man bun reflexively. “No! Well, I’m trying this new product. It’s supposed to smell like sand and surf. I don’t know how that works.” He blinked. “And that wasn’t a weird way to get you to smell my hair.”
Leo laughed. “Is there a non-weird way to ask that?”
Tristan smiled, then bit his lower lip. “Well, I’d just ask nicely, I suppose. ‘Hey, Leo, want to smell my hair?’”
Leo blinked, because all at once he did want to smell Tristan’s hair, but he didn’t know if the question had been legitimate or not. “Um…”
“Anyway!” Tristan thrust a menu at him. “The Korean barbeque tacos are to die for.”
That sounded more like something to die from. “Korean barbeque? In a taco?”
“It’s fusion or something,” Tristan said. “Honestly, everything’s really good, however weird it sounds.”
Like an invitation to sniff Tristan’s hair, he assumed.
Leo took another sip of his drink. If the food was as good as the margarita, he was going to go ahead and guess that this was one of those hidden culinary gems. “Why don’t you order, and I’ll follow your lead?”
Tristan raised an eyebrow. “I do love it when people let me boss them around.”
He was talking about the menu, but Leo’s face still heated as he remembered the way Tristan had explained which handcuffs at the Pleasure Party were for show, and which ones could “really hold a big guy in place while you edge him.” Which had been followed up straight away with, “You met Brendan the bouncer, right? Super fun guy. Very strong.” It had filled Leo’s imagination with such vivid pictures that he couldn’t remember the rest of that conversation at all, which was probably for the best.
There was an awkward silence that stretched between them as they sipped their drinks before Tristan blurted out, “I think you should know I haven’t done this before, so let me know if I’m fucking it up.”
Leo’s brow furrowed. “Done what?”
“Dated. I don’t date. Except for—” He waved a hand vaguely, which Leo took to mean his work. “You know.”
“Yeah.” Leo smiled tentatively. He liked Tristan. He liked him enough that he could see himself working through the issues he had with Tristan’s job—if Tristan wanted to keep seeing him, of course—except he couldn’t, not with Dad’s foray into politics. Leo didn’t want Tristan dragged into all that. “So, um, it’s a pretty unusual job.”
“I guess so,” Tristan said. “I mean, it’s not the sort of thing you plan for, but Harry was doing it and?—”
“Harry!” Leo blinked in surprise. Harry seemed so…unlikely.
“Yeah. Apparently, he was really good at it. But then he got together with Jack and decided he wanted out. Plus, it’s not a good look for a preschool teacher, you know?”
“Oh, wow. Of course.” That was a headline Leo could imagine only too well.
