Hardly Working Read Online Free Page B

contrast to my heavier brown-haired neighbor, would disappear for a week or more, and my neighbor, obviously at a loss, would pull out his home gym and work out.
    During those hot evenings in late August, I was behindthat curtain watching him move his half-naked sweat-shined body. And I swear, if Russell Crowe had come along and hip-checked my neighbor out of the way, and taken his place there at the bench press, and let the last shafts of light catch the muscular ripple of his arms and torso, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between the two of them.
    August flowed into September and September into October and I still went to the window to catch a glimpse from time to time. My voyeurism told me that I’d been hanging on too long. How could I criticize the Tsadziki Pervert when I too was becoming an urban weirdo? I told myself that it was because I needed time before getting burned again. But now the years were beginning to speed up. I’d reached thirty without even realizing it.
    â€œYou can get your mind off his éclair, Cleo. It’s not earmarked for you. Take my word for it,” said Joey, “Dinah and I have been surveying him for a while and we are happy to inform you that he is of the religion Pas de Femme. Where information gathering is concerned, we make the CIA look like a bunch of wussies.” Joey’s expression was triumphant.
    â€œHe’s not gay,” wailed Cleo. “He can’t be, can’t be, can’t be.”
    â€œHe is, he is, he is,” said Joey, stamping his foot in imitation.
    She clumped over to the table to pour herself another larger slug of wine. “The best ones. Always the best ones. And anyway, Joey, how do you know?”
    Joey said, “I’ve seen him around. In the clubs.”
    â€œWhich clubs?”
    â€œWell. I’ve seen him at Luce and Numbers and Lotus Sound Lounge. And he always has his arm around the same guy. The guy that comes over sometimes. Small, dark French-looking man with zero pecs. I’m telling you, he’s so monogamous he’s dreary.”
    I took one last peep. The neighbor stood motionless now,looking out at the sky and the luminous gray clouds that threatened to burst. It was odd that we’d never met, never crossed paths. Just bad timing, I supposed. He only lived next door, but his world and mine could have been a million light years apart.
    â€œOh shit,” said Joey, “he’s turned the light off.”
    â€œProbably tired of his voyeur neighbors,” I said.
    Cleo had turned away from the side window to face my big front French doors. She shrieked and pointed. Outside the windowpane, hanging in midair above the little balcony, dangling from a cord, was a shadowy man.

Chapter Two
    T he man-shaped silhouette waved.
    I ran over and opened up the French doors, then stepped out on the balcony to help the guy down.
    â€œSimon. You’re back. Come inside before somebody calls the police.”
    With expert rock-climber’s maneuvers, Simon lowered himself down to the balcony, then began to haul his cords down after himself and wind them up. He was grinning the whole time. I stepped aside to let him into the apartment, then I picked up his equipment and passed it through to him. He stood in the middle of the living room, straightened up and brushed himself off. He was dressed in black, and very lithe, thinner than when I’d last seen him, two years before.
    â€œHey, Di. Happy birthday. Figured I’d drop in on you. Hey, so cool to see you.”
    Joey muttered, “Now that’s what I call an entrance.”
    I smiled at Cleo and Joey. “This is the Simon Larkin I’malways telling you about. The one I grew up with. The one who shared my dog biscuits.”
    â€œYeah,” said Simon. “You could say that Di’s my honorary sister.”
    Joey batted his eyelids and leapt forward to offer his hand. “Hi, great to meet you,