Page 34 of Watching Ames

“Dev and I worked together just out of college,” Alex started as he opened the package of marshmallows he’d brought out, sticking one onto a skewer and beginning to roast it as he told the story. “It involved a lot of coding for some financial start-up, and it was a pretty casual gig.”

“For this one,” Dev interrupted, chuckling. “Everyone was putting in like 10 hour workdays and Alex had enough free time to dick around at the security desk with me. I, for one, had just gotten out of a military contract, and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. So I took some shitty security job while I did some private bodyguarding on the side.”

“Dev and I started at the company around the same time and we were the same age, a few years younger than most of my coworkers. Plus, we were the only non-white guys in the office, which was a bonding experience in itself. Ended up helping us in the end, too.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Xan.”

Alex shrugged, pulling his perfectly-toasted marshmallow out of the fire and handing it to me before starting another.

“I can roast my own marshmallows,” I whispered to Alex, scooting closer to him as Dev and Wren bickered over prime marshmallow roasting real estate.

Instead of passing me the skewer, Alex wrapped a quick hand around my hip, pulling me next to him in a smooth motion, our knees touching as he moved the bag of marshmallows further out of my reach. “I like doing it for you.”

The admission tightened my chest, the thoughtfulness of such a simple statement catching me so off-guard that I almost missed Dev’s next words as he continued the story.

“So, anyway, one day we’re hanging out at the security desk when a few guys come in, asking to see our boss, Rick. I called up to Rick’s office, and I remember his voice started shaking on the phone, but he told us to let them up anyway. We ended up checking the security cameras in his office, and found them disconnected, just static. So we went up to the top floor, curious what was going on, and things became pretty clear when we heard Rick begging for his life through the door.”

Alex took over the story, passing me another marshmallow with gentle hands. “Turns out Rick had borrowed some money from less-than-savory characters, local Irish mob, and his start up hadn’t made the profit he had promised. So the guys were there to collect his payment or make Rick pay for failing to repay his loan. His security had locked down the whole floor, a few goons guarding doors and things like that. No one else had caught on to the mob ties, instead thinking at first we were getting some important new client that required security. But after a while, people started to get worried about the fact that they weren’t allowed to leave.”

“Except for Xan, of course,” Dev cut in. Alex rolled his eyes but didn’t bother to interrupt as Dev continued, “After about half an hour of threats and begging and general mayhem, Xan here decides he wants to go home. So get this: he just strolls right into the office where Rick is getting threatened with dismemberment or whatever, and basically says, ‘Your security is shit, can we leave now?’”

Wren gasped, and I had the feeling she hadn’t heard this whole story yet either, though I was fairly certain Dev was dramatizing a bit. My thought was confirmed when Alex heaved a sigh, passing me another marshmallow before setting the skewer aside, resting back on his palms, his left arm pressing against my back.

“Whatactuallyhappened was, I went into the office to get a sense of what was going on. No one else was stepping up, and I wanted to get out of there before things went to shit. Dev and I seemed like the only ones who were aware of how dangerous our situation was, everyone else still hoping some huge client was coming our way. When Cillian - the Irish mobster paying Rick a visit - told us to get lost, I explained politely that the whole office was wired with security cameras and if Cillian had somehow avoided prison this long, he likely wouldn’t if he chose to do anything illegal in the office, especially since some of our coworkers were going to catch on soon if Rick’s begging got any louder. He argued that he had a security guy who had disabled the cameras. I argued that he definitely hadn’t disabled all the cameras, since I had installed a few myself to protect some of the more expensive equipment. I showed him my cameras were still online, and I proposed a deal: allow everyone except Rick to leave the building, and we’d turn off the cameras ourselves.”

“So you did?” I asked, somehow easily able to imagine Alex stone-faced, threatening mob members with a steady voice.

“Yup. Everyone left, falling for the bogus story Cillian told them about his high-paying client and confidentiality, and I turned off all the cameras. Rick never showed up back for work after that, probably because he was at the bottom of a river somewhere, so Dev and I were out of a job. Except a few weeks after that, Cillian tracked me down, wanting me to check the security system around one of his compounds, since he no longer trusted his security guy. And that was the start, I guess. Cillian liked me, recommended me to a few of his friends. I brought Dev on for the groundwork, and things progressed from there.”

“And this mob guy just let you go? After you threatened him?”

Dev burst out laughing at my question, barely able to tell me, “Just wait. This is the best part.”

“Cillian and I became pretty good friends. Or associates, I guess. I still work with him, though now he’s higher in the organization. A few years after we met, he admitted part of the reason he listened to me that day was because he thought I had ties to the Cartel.” Alex rolled his eyes at the thought before continuing, “Said I was too calm, so I was either born into the business or born for it. Ended up I was the latter.”

“Hit the nail on the head,” Dev muttered, sending the rest of us into more laughter as Alex watched me with one of his almost-smiles.

“Ooh my turn!” Wren clapped in delight as she sat up straighter, pushing Dev further away as if she were on stage and he was encroaching on her spotlight. “So there I was at work, when this handsome stranger walks in, asking me to make him a custom bouquet of flowers.”

I whipped my head toward Alex, not wanting to interrupt Wren’s storytelling even as my mind was reeling. I had expected Wren to be the daughter of a mob boss or some kind of technology whiz, a co-worker or business associate, since Alex had never specified how he knew her. I expected her to be a friend he had known for years, like Dev, since he talked about her with such familiarity. I didn’t expect her to be the fucking florist he used to send me flowers weeks ago. But Alex wasn’t looking at me, and instead I watched a half-smile form on his face as he listened to Wren tell the beginning of his side of our story.

“And of course, I’m expecting the usual: a dozen roses, a spray of lilies. Or better yet, for him to just tell me ‘whatever my girlfriend/latest conquest/mom would like’ and somehow expect me to get it right. But no, Xa - Alex comes in, with pictures no less, and has a full conversation with me for half an hour in the shop, debating which flowers would go best in this bouquet. Tells me about how she was up for some big contract at work, how he’s super proud of her and she’s so beautiful and cool, and wants to send her something to wish her good luck.”

Alex let out a small, dissatisfied grunt, Wren amending, “Well, the non-flowers part of the conversation was a little more stilted than that, with a lot of grunting and single words on Alex’s side. I had to ask alotof questions to get that much information out of him. And he didn’t say any of those words about his feelings toward Ames, but I could see it in hiseyes.” Wren raised her eyebrows in Alex’s direction as if asking,Better?,but Alex just shook his head at her antics, allowing her to continue when his lips stayed sealed.

“So I sent you the bouquet, and didn’t really expect to see Alex again. At least not until the next holiday or your birthday or whenever. But then one day he calls, asking me about where I source my notecards. I probably wouldn’t have realized it was him if it weren’t for his blunt tone during the phone call, with a lot of grumbling.”

Dev snorted while I barked out a laugh, Wren’s comical descriptions of Alex even more entertaining as she imitated the deep rasp and growl of his voice, holding her hand up to her ear as if she were answering the phone.

“‘Where do you buy your note cards? The silver ones?’

“‘Let me check that for you, sir.’

“‘Grumble, grumble.’ So I gave him the phone number for my provider, and a few days later, I got a little discount through my email, saying that I’d been named as a referral on an order. And since we’re a small business - Ames, you would understand this - customer relationships are everything. So I reached out to say thank you to Alex for listing me as a reference. Only when he picked up the phone…”

She paused for dramatic effect, and Alex groaned, covering his face with his hands in one of the only shows of embarrassment I’d ever seen from him. “Wren, I’ve apologized a thousand times. I apologized immediately!”

Wren ignored him, continuing on, “When he picked up the phone, he snapped at me! Like such an asshole, I was totally caught off guard, and I was this close,” she held her thumb and pointer finger a sliver apart, “To saying fuck it to customer service and cursing his ass out. But he apologized, then showed up at the store twenty minutes later with an armful of gifts, telling me I could repay the favor by helping him arrange a gift basket.”

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