Page 21 of Simply Perfection
Trevor stopped and looked over at the man a few years younger than himself behind the desk.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“No, sir, when you arrived with Mr. Roberge last night, he informed me of your name. He asked that we add you to the system as his permanent guest. That means you are free to go up to his condo without checking in first at any time.”
“Wow. Um, okay. What’s your name?”
“Adam, sir.”
“Nice to meet you.” Trevor held out his hand. “Please don’t call me sir. I probably have less than a decade on you, and it’s a little weird. So you work the graveyard, huh?”
“Yeah, four days a week, but it gives me a quiet place to study. I’m a sophomore at Northeastern. Architectural major.”
“You’re a full-time student and you still work the night shift?” Trevor exclaimed. “Hat’s off, man, I couldn’t do it. Hell, I never even went to college.”
Adam shrugged. “College isn’t for everyone. But the end product is worth the crazy schedule and lack of sleep to me.”
Trevor was impressed. When he had been Adam’s age, most of the guys he knew from high school who took off for the ivy walls of higher education ended up spending most of their nights either stoned or drunk. At the time, Trevor had thought himself quite a step above them because he was holding down a full-time job and supporting himself. He was sure he’d missed out on a few of life’s initiation rituals, and a small part of him wished he had a degree to hang on his wall. However, a piece of paper wasn’t everything, and Trevor was proud of what he’d accomplished on his own.
Right now, he didn’t want to get caught chatting with the concierge if Matt and Niall woke up and found him gone.
“It was nice talking to you, but I gotta run.” He headed toward the door, waving as he left. “Good luck!”
Trevor jogged the mile-long trip to the station. The pace kept him from getting cold in the November air. He reached the surface entrance, ran down the steps and flashed his link pass just in time for the train to pull up. Jumping into the nearest corner, he sat down and tried to catch his breath.
“You okay, kid?”
Trevor stopped gasping as if he were a sixty-year-old heart attack waiting to happen and looked up to see an old man in derelict clothing in the row of seats opposite him.
“I’m fine, just more out of shape than I thought.”
“You do know that more than one train comes through here each day, right?”
Trevor laughed. “Yeah, but I guess I was just focused. Nothing really on the schedule today. Could have waited for the next one, but you know…”
“Yeah, I have a corporate meeting at nine o’clock I can’t be late for,” the man deadpanned.
Trevor winced. “Sorry. Didn’t mean anything.”
“Bah, don’t worry over me none. I’m living the life.” He stretched out his legs and crossed his arms behind his neck. “I get to travel in style and see our great city.” He pointed at Trevor. “Meet interesting people—those who bother to talk to me anyways—and occasionally scrape up enough silver to grab a hot meal in a fancy eatery with golden arches.”
Trevor reached for his wallet and slipped out the last of his cash. “It’s not much, but all I have. Have one of those apple turnover things for me, will ya? I have to watch my girlish figure.” He patted his stomach.
“Hmm yes, I can see how that’s a problem for you. Hell boy, you’re skinnier than I am! Maybe you should take this back and go get yourself some food.”
Trevor waved his hands. “No, no. I want you to have it. I would just waste it on things that will rot my teeth and my mind,” he said with a smile.
“You have such a nice smile, hate to ruin it.” He shoved the dollar bills into the trench coat pocket.
Trevor noticed that the digital sign flashed the next stop as Fields Corner, where he had to get off. He pointed to the sign. “That’s my stop.”
“Thanks for the conversation, kid. And the…” He patted the coat pocket.
Trevor stood as the train came into the station. “What’s your name?”
“Clyde.”
“Have a good day, Clyde. Try and stay warm, it’s supposed to be nasty today.”
