Page 9 of Joey

“That you do.”

They finished their breakfast in silence, and Ethan carried their used dishes to the kitchen, leaving them in the sink. “I’ll clean them when we get back,” he murmured. “I’ll drive.”

Joey nodded, and they headed for the door. As they passed the hook where Ethan kept his keys, he grabbed the spare key to the house and handed it to Joey.

“In case you need to get in when I’m not here.”

Joey shook his head. “I don’t want to be here when you’re not here.”

Ethan glared at him. “I trust you, Joey. Mother help me, but I do. You need this for any time that I won’t be home, for whatever reason that might be. Take it.”

Joey sighed and curled his hand around the key. “Okay, thanks.”

They parted ways when they reached the hotel, Joey going for the handyman’s closet, Ethan to the reception desk to relieve the night receptionist.

“Hey, Thomas. How were things?” Ethan asked, squeezing the man’s shoulder.

“Morning. All good. No issues except for the couple in room 406. They called down a couple of times to say their TV kept cutting out. I took them through the usual, but in the end, they said they’d go to bed and not watch it. Might be something we need someone to look at.”

Ethan pressed a few keys on the computer. “They’re checking out today, and no one is scheduled to book into that room. It’ll give Joey the chance to have a look at it.”

“Joey?” Thomas asked, collecting his jacket.

“Our stand-in handyman for a bit,” Ethan explained. “He’s a friend of mine.”

Thomas nodded and yawned. “Right, I’m off.”

“Have a good sleep.” Ethan smiled, focusing on the computer and starting up his morning checklist.

He worked through nearly all the morning paperwork before Charly arrived. The manager believed that having staggered start times worked best for the hotel rush times, so there were always two receptionists working at the hotel except between midnight and eight in the morning.

“Who’s this new handyman I’ve heard about?” Charly asked, smirking at Ethan. “I’ve been told he’s your tattooed best friend. You kept that quiet.”

Ethan snorted. “He’s a friend, not my best friend. But yes, he’s tattooed.”

“Where’s he from? Why haven’t you told us about him? Is he single? Is he straight?” Charly popped off a dozen questions Ethan refused to answer. “You’re no fun.”

“It’s nunya beeswax,” he said.

Charly frowned. “What?”

Ethan grinned. “It’snunya beeswax. None of your business.”

Charly huffed but couldn’t respond because their first guests arrived to check out. From then on, time flew. He saw Joey a couple of times, once when he found him to compare a list of empty rooms to Joey’s list of repairs, in case he could do anything before the rooms were occupied again. He found him again at the end of their shift and drove them towards home.

“I’m having dinner at my parents’ house tonight. Would you like to come?”

Joey shook his head. “You don’t need me hanging on. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“I’d like you to come. I think you’ll like them. Especially Dad. You can compare tattoos.” Ethan chuckled.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

Ethan sighed. “I know you will, Joey. I’d still like you to come. I like your company.”

Joey stayed quiet until Ethan parked outside the house. “Why can’t I say no to you?” Joey whispered.

“You say no plenty,” Ethan said. “I just don’t enjoy taking that as your final answer.” He smirked at Joey and climbed out of the car. “Dinner is at five o’clock, so I’m going to shower and decompress first.”

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