Page 36 of For Fake's Sake and other stories

Carl: You okay, Spencer?

I drop my phone on my quilt, shake out my shoulders, and clench my hands into fists a couple of times. Finally, I pick up my phone again.

Me: Hey, Carl, I’ve been thinking. I don’t think we should get together again. Thanks for a great night and the lift to work. Spencer

The dots dance immediately. Has he been waiting with his phone in his hand?

Carl: No, little one. Please don’t say that. What we have is a good thing waiting to start. Please talk to me. We can work this out. Daddy x

Me: No, I can’t do it. I’m sorry.

I turn my phone off, pull the quilt over my head, and cry myself to sleep.

By lunchtime on Tuesday, Spencer still hasn’t replied to my texts. What could have happened during the four hours between his last message and him telling me he doesn’t want to see me? Did something happen at his parents’? Did he tell them about me or our age gap? Whatever it is, it leaves me gutted. I haven’t met anyone who excited me or made me feel as good as he did. I’m a stubborn man. Everyone who knows me will confirm that. I don’t let things go without fully understanding what is happening or, in Spencer’s case, what has happened.

I look out onto the showroom floor. Thank god. No customers. Normally, I’d have welcomed any client, but not now. I check my diary. Perfect. I don’t have any appointments until three thirty, which will give me enough time to get some lunch. And I know exactly where to go. Am I pushing my luck? Will it put Spencer in a difficult position? Yes to both, but it isn’t enough to stop me.

“I’m going to lunch,” I call out to Debbie, my receptionist. She glances up from her computer screen and nods.

The drive to Gaston’s is short, but parking isn’t as easy today as it was on Sunday. I want to park the car away from the restaurant. I don’t want Spencer to spot me and hide in the kitchen.

As I push open the door, the bell above chimes. I’m happy to see it’s relatively busy so I won’t stand out as alone diner. I like it here. The food is excellent, and the staff professional yet friendly. The restaurant attracts people of all ages and types from students to workers like me, escaping the office for an hour or so. A pretty girl around the same age as Spencer smiles at me in welcome.

“A table for one, please?” I ask.

“Of course, sir, come this way.” She leads me through a couple of tables and stops at one with two chairs halfway through the restaurant. I don’t see Spencer, but I know he’s working today. All I have to do is wait for him to show up.

I order sparkling water, pick up the menu, and read through what’s on offer. The menu varies every day, depending on what the chef finds in the market each morning. A figure stops by the table. I look up, and my heart misses a beat. Spencer holds a tray with a bottle of water and a chilled glass. His face is pale, and his eyes are wide with surprise, or is it panic? I don’t want him to feel like this, and I smile softly.

“Is it okay for me to be here?” I ask, my voice low enough not to be heard by the other diners.

“Your water, sir.” He sets the glass in front of me, his hand trembling, then fills it half with the water. “Are you ready to order?”

“Not yet, sorry.”

“Why are you here, Carl?” he asks, calmer now.

“I wanted to see you, speak to you. You haven’t replied to my messages, and I’m worried.” I reach out my hand, but he steps back.

“I can’t do this here. I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I’ll be back in a moment to take your order.”

I nod and let him leave, then go back to the menu. After what feels like a lifetime, he returns. He’s smiling, but his body is rigid.

“I’ll have the crepes with wild mushrooms, please. And perhaps an explanation?” He doesn’t answer but types in my order in his tablet.

“I think it would be best if we didn’t see each other again. I’m sorry, Carl.” He glances away, then meets my gaze again with suspiciously wet eyes. He looks as devastated as I feel. It doesn’t make any sense.

“There has to be more to it than that. You were happy before dinner with your family. Did something happen there?”

“What? No, of course not. I have a wonderful family.” His reply is sharp, a warning to drop it.

“Then it’s something I’ve done. Please, Spencer, explain to me, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

He lowers his gaze and shuffles his feet. “I realised that us being together wouldn’t be a good idea. We wouldn’t work in the long term and would end up hurting more people than we should. And that wouldn’t be fair on either of us.” He looks down at his tablet. “I’ll be back with your lunch.”

He weaves elegantly between the tables towards the kitchen. He is so beautiful with his slim body and high, round arse. My dick stirs. But it isn’t just his good looks I’m attracted to, that I want. It’s all of him: his kindness, his work ethics, his eager enthusiasm.

His words confuse me. Who could we end up hurting? I’ll leave any more questions for another time. But I’ll have to up my game. I need him to know how serious I am about him.

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