Three Fates

few weeks. She’d like to show him around. Show him off, too.
    Despite the heat, Cleo rolled down the window so New York could slap her in the face. The blast of horns was music as the cab inched its way in jerks through crosstown traffic.
    By the time they pulled to the curb in front of Mikey’s building off Ninth, she was riding on such a high she didn’t think to complain when Gideon told her to pay the driver.
    “So what do you think?” she demanded.
    “About what?” he asked groggily.
    “New York. You said you hadn’t been here before.”
    He looked around numbly. “It’s crowded. It’s noisy, and everybody looks annoyed about something.”
    “Yeah.” Cleo felt sentimental tears clog her throat. “It’s the best.” She danced up to the call box at the entrance to the building and pressed Mikey’s button.
    Moments later there was a long, vaguely obscene sucking sound that made Cleo laugh. “Mikey, you perv. Buzz me in. It’s Cleo.”
    “Cleo? Damn! Get your fine, firm ass in here.”
    The buzzer sounded, locks clicked, and Cleo dragged open the door. There was a tiny closet of a lobby and a dull gray elevator that made suspicious grinding noises as the doors opened. But Cleo, apparently unconcerned, stepped right on and pushed a button for the third floor.
    “Mikey’s from Georgia,” Cleo told Gideon. “From a fine upstanding family full of doctors and lawyers. Since we both ended up being an embarrassment to our parents, we bonded fast.”
    At the moment, Gideon didn’t care if Mikey came from Georgia or the moon, whether he was gay or had three heads. As long as he had a shower with hot running water and an available bed.
    When the doors ground open again, Gideon got a glimpse of a tall, dark-skinned man wearing a red muscle shirt, tight black pants and an explosion of glossy dread-locks. He let out a ululant howl that had Gideon bracing for attack, then moved like lightning.
    Cleo was plucked off her feet and swung around. Before Gideon could react, she was plunked down again, then whipped into some sort of dance—he thought it was a kind of jitterbug—that spun her and her partner down the narrow hallway.
    She didn’t miss a beat and ended the impromptu number with her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist.
    “Baby doll, where have you been ? ”
    “Everywhere. Jesus, Mikey, you look great.”
    “Damn right I do.” He kissed her, one cheek, the other, then with a humming smack on the lips. “You look like you’ve been dragged through the street and dumped on the curb.”
    “Could use a shower.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “So could my friend.”
    Mikey angled his head, his body and gave Gideon a long, piercing look. “Mmm, what have you brought me, Cleopatra?”
    “His name’s Gideon.” Enjoying herself, Cleo ran her tongue over her top lip. “He’s Irish. I picked him up in Prague. I’m keeping him for a while.”
    “He’s fucking gorgeous.”
    “Yeah. He’s got some personality flaws, but in the looks department, he’s aces. Come on, Slick, don’t be shy.”
    “Does that mean the show’s over for now?”
    “Moves well,” Mikey commented when Gideon came down the hall. “Lovely accent.”
    “So’s yours.”
    At Gideon’s response, Mikey’s lips spread in a huge, toothy grin. “Come inside. I want to hear everything.” And though in Gideon’s opinion the man was built like a toothpick, he carried Cleo’s not unsubstantial weight into the apartment.
    “It’s humble,” he added, setting Cleo down, patting her ass. “But it’s home.”
    Gideon didn’t see humble. What he saw was color, from the navy blue walls and white trim, the dozens of theater posters, the wildly geometric pattern in the rug. The couch was white leather, big as a boat and piled with plump, multicolored pillows.
    He imagined falling facedown on it and sleeping for the rest of his life.
    “Cocktails,” Mikey announced. “Tall, frosty cocktails.”
    “I think Slick here could use a tall, frosty shower first,” Cleo said. “Go ahead, back through the bedroom there, on the right.”
    He glanced at Mikey, got a friendly wave of invitation. “Help yourself, handsome.”
    “Thanks.” Gideon hauled his duffel with him and left them alone.
    “Gin and tonics, I think.” Mikey crossed to the glossy white bar. “Lots of ice, lots of gin and a whiff of tonic for form. Then you can tell Daddy all.”
    “Sounds perfect. Mikey, can we bunk here