Page 32 of Dead Serious with Benefits
“Probably tomorrow, but I’d give it a few days just to be sure. You don’t want anything coming loose.”
“This is true. Well, thank you, what was your name again?”
“Trevor.”
“Son of the owner.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, good, well, thank you, Trevor. I appreciate your time and the quality you were willing to put in. Will the invoice be emailed today?”
“Probably,” he said, glancing over his shoulder and leaning in to drop his voice to a whisper. “And he’s probably going to call you as well.”
“That is perfectly fine by me,” I said with a grin. “Is there anything else?”
“No,” he said, leaning back and pulling his hands free from his pockets. “That’s it.”
“Okay,” I said with a smile as I heard the buzzer. “Then you enjoy the rest of your day, hopefully free from more work.”
He mumbled his thanks and headed back toward the bathroom to, I assume, pack up the remainder of their tools and head out. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when he returned to his coworker. I wondered how much he’d overheard. But it was always nice to have someone treat you like a person rather than a snotty credit card with legs.
“Afternoon, David,” I said as I punched the button beside the door. “Would that be Arlo waiting for me?”
“That’s the name he gave,” David said cheerfully. “But sincesomeoneforgot to mention they were having a guest off the approved list, I had to stop him.”
“Honestly, David, I expected you to do some form of mind-reading. You know how I am.”
“Mmm, you sound like my ex.”
“Oh. An ex-partner who expected you to read their mind? You really have to stop dating clichés.”
“Tell me about it, I’m sending him up.”
“Excellent, could you get his coffee order while you’re at it?”
“Sure can. Same for you as always?”
“Indeed, take it from the account you have...and of course, get yourself something or I might have to have you fired for being too damned polite.”
“You can forget that. If you think I’m passing up a chance of one of those hot chocolates and fruit-filled croissants they have, you’ve clearly burned your brains out from the drugs you…definitely never have.”
“Good man,” I said with a chuckle, pushing the button again to end the call. I lingered a moment with a smirk. David always made sure that if he brought up a former partner or lover, healwaysused gender neutral terms. If it wasn’t for the fact that I wasn’t the least bit shy about my love of both genders, I mightthink he was taking the classic route of gender neutrality to avoid being caught out. Personally, I was of the mind that he did it because he knew the repetition would eventually make me curious. I could always have someone get the answers, but that would take the fun out of it.
I walked back toward the seating area as the workmen filed out, the one who’d spoken to me glancing at me as he went, the other avoiding my gaze. I watched him go, a smirk on my face as I stepped behind the bar and grabbed a couple of bottles. I had a feeling the first man had probably said something to the second, or perhaps it was enough that he had overheard our conversation.
They opened the door as I shook my mixture, and I cocked my head as Arlo walked in. I was struck by the smoothness with which he moved, nodding at the two men and smiling gently as he let them pass. I knew his grace was unconscious, a natural, inborn rhythm he’d carried his whole life…or was it trained into him? I knew all too well what it was like to have something ground into you so frequently you had no choice but to let it become ingrained.
“Well, well, someone’s earlier than I anticipated,” I said as the ice clinked against the metal shaker. “And looking...striking.”
I was overheard by the less moral workman, who gave a sharp look over his shoulder before Arlo closed the door softly behind him. “Clearly, you are alone in that thought.”
I laughed. “Are you talking about him, or yourself?”
“Alone is alone.”
“Something that could almost be profound, except I have the feeling you didn’t mean it that way.”
“I did not.”
