by Jack Harbon
“Good luck,” she winked.
Kit walked into Roman’s office and leaned against the door frame. “What’s up, boss?”
“I need you to set up a few appointments.”
“I can do that,” he said. He crossed the room and took a seat in the chair opposite of Roman. Roman took a moment to scribble down a few lines on his pad of paper then handed it off.
“Here’s a list, but I’ll go over everything. August 27th, I need you to schedule a meeting with Arthur Danby, head of Alainment Enterprise. He’s got this new company that he wants us to do some advertising for. On the 29th, reserve a Cadillac for me. I have to go out of town for the day. And on the first of next month, reserve a table for nine at Eleven Madison Park. Clear your schedule for that night, too.”
“You’re taking me to dinner?” Kit asked, looking up. Roman stared at him without amusement which only made Kit smile wider. “I’m teasing.”
“Did you get all of that?” Roman continued.
Kit scanned over the short list and nodded, “Yep, not that complicated. I’ll have it all done before lunch.”
“Good, thank you. That’s all.”
Kit stood and stuffed the list in his pocket. “How do you like the office so far?”
The man glanced at the office in front of him and shrugged with one shoulder. “It’s not too bad. What really matters is the furniture inside, so don’t mess that up.”
“Your confidence in me is inspiring,” Kit sighed melodramatically. He looked out through the glass. It was better than not too bad. It looked great, and not even Yolanda’s opinion could make him think differently. “I’ll let you get back to work. If you need me, come get me. I’m here to assist you with anything you need.”
“I’m aware, Kit. Go,” he said. He failed to keep from smiling. Kit returned the expression then closed the door to his office.
*
“God, Bria, are we almost done?” Kit whined. Bria gave him a pointed look, a pomegranate in her hand. Kit sighed and stuck out the basket.
Bria grabbed another pomegranate, “You don’t complain this much whenever I’m the one getting food, do you?” When Kit looked in the other direction and ignored her question, she said, “Exactly. So, stop complaining, help me get this grocery shopping done, and we’ll get you a suit for dinner next Wednesday night.”
“I’m starting to think you just like dressing me up in fancy ass clothes,” Kit laughed. He followed Bria around to the next display and looked down at all of the various vegetables. He didn’t have the slightest clue what to do with them but he trusted Bria. She was a master chef.
“Do I think you look so much cuter in fancy suits and ties? Of course. But you also have to remember that jobs like these have a weird obsession with appearance—especially advertising. Like, presenting something in a pleasing way is literally your job.”
“Alright, What Not to Wear, what do you propose I look like?”
“I’m thinking…fitted suit with a tie that adds a splash of color. A fun pattern that shows people you’re not stuffy but you also realize you’re eating at an expensive restaurant.”
“Which reminds me,” Kit said, interrupting her, “I looked online and I almost had a fucking heart attack. It’s three hundred dollars per person.”
Bria nearly choked on her gum. “What?”
“Yeah, three hundred. Nine people makes that almost three grand for one meal.” Saying it out loud didn’t make it any less insane for Kit.
“That’s rent money in some places… Kit, you better eat all that damn food, I’m not playing. Eat it or you don’t get to come home.”
“I’m going to! I just hope that Roman’s paying, otherwise I might have to cut the reservation by one. I can’t afford that.”
“How much do you have left?”
“After rent, I’ve got like, a rack. But I need that to portion that off so that I can start saving up for my own place,” he said. Bria looked up from the potatoes.
“You’re moving out?”
He could see the surprise on her face. There was also something else. It was almost…disappointment.
“Not right now, but I figured you and Trish would want your own space sometime soon. I’ve been there for a while now and I think I should let you guys get back to what you had before I came home.” He shrugged and tossed a potato in the basket.
“I mean, you don’t have to rush out anytime soon, Kit. I love having you around. I missed you while you were at school. I’m not looking to kick you out by the end of the year.”
Kit shook his head and said, “No, I know, I just thought… I don’t know.” He met her eyes and shrugged with one shoulder. He thought she might look away but she stared up at him for a moment.
“Don’t go just yet. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
This seemed all too familiar. Kit was reminded of the last day at their parents’ place before he went off to school and she moved out of town. She’d made him promise that he wasn’t going to leave her for good. They were all each other had now. They were stuck with each other for life.
“You ready to go?” he asked, looking down at the basket in her hand. They had plenty of fruits and vegetables inside. He doubted they’d need to come back for a while. Bria seemed grateful for the change in topic because she exhaled and said,
“Yeah, let’s go.”
He followed her to the self-checkout aisle at the front of the store and helped her punch in the numbers for the food. They bagged the items and Bria carried them on her arms. She patted her pockets for her wallet and her eyes grew wide. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Kit asked, scanning the last item.
“I don’t have my wallet on me.”
“Oh, I got it. No big deal.”
“I’ll pay you back,” she promised him. She looked at the total and nodded. “Remind me to give you a hundred and twenty when we get home.”
“Sure thing,” Kit said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his little leather wallet. As he searched for his card, Bria called his attention. He glanced over at tabloid magazine she was pointing at and rolled his eyes. Those magazines put out the strangest rumors.
The machine beeped to accept the card. “Alright, let’s get outta here,” he said, slipping his wallet back in his pocket. He took the receipt and headed towards the door.
“You ready to get all snazzy, Mr. Bayer?”
“I’m ready to look like a million bucks,” he chuckled.
7
Something You Want
Bria had once again impressed Kit with her styling skills. He’d been skeptical of the suit she’d picked out for him at the store, but now that he looked at himself with a fresh shave and styled hair, he looked pretty damn dapper. No one at the restaurant could possibly tell that he’d lived off ramen for two years.
On his way to the door, Kit stopped by Bria’s room to say goodbye.
“Be careful, and have fun!”
“I will!” Kit replied. He waved to Trish, then was out the door and down onto the street. Right on time, his Uber pulled up to the curb. He hopped into the back and pulled his phone out to check his teeth.
“Damn, Eleven Madison Park,” the driver said, whistling. “Got a fancy date tonight?”
Kit smiled at his comment. “You could say that.”
Roman wasn’t Kit’s date by any means. Knowing Roman, he would be on edge all night. Even if Kit could pretend that this was a date, Roman’s tense nature would ruin the fantasy in a heartbeat. He was regal and controlled and always kept his chin up and his back straight. This environment was his element. Kit wished he could say the same.
For three hundred dollars, he could buy enough chicken nuggets to send himself to the hospital. He couldn’t imagine what they’d be eating tonight. Whatever it was, it had better be good. Kit didn’t plan on wasting his night eating a bunch of bullshit.
The driver pulled up to the curb just outside of the restaurant, and Kit’s stomach di
d a flip. It was even more beautiful in person than it was on Google. Kit was frozen in his seat for a moment, unsure whether he was ready to go through with this or not. Sure, he could act semi-formal at the office, but this was going to be three hours of being on his best behavior.
“Good luck in there,” the driver said reassuringly. Kit nodded at him and stepped out onto the street. He rated his driver well and looked up at the building once more.
“Well, there’s no time like show time.” That saying didn’t sound right to him, but he didn’t give himself time to rephrase it. Kit pushed through the doors and was greeted by a hostess. She looked through her book until she found the reservation under Roman’s name.
“Right this way,” she said, guiding him towards the table. Kit smiled at Barbie when she waved excitedly.
“We were just starting to wonder where you were!” she said once he was seated at the table.
“I’m not late, am I?” he asked. Kit looked down at the time on his phone and let out a sigh of relief. He’d made it there with a few minutes to spare.
“Cutting it close, hm?” Yolanda said. She looked stunning in her gold cocktail dress. Her hair had been styled up into a neat updo, and her makeup looked painstakingly perfect. She took a sip from her glass of water and smiled.
“You look nice tonight, Yolanda,” Kit said. Her smile faltered for a moment, and Kit could tell that she was a bit confused by his compliment. She’d subtly insulted him just a moment ago. Without giving her time to respond, Kit turned to Roman. “Sorry I kept you waiting. I lost track of time while I was getting ready, and the drive here was—”
“You weren’t late, Kit. You’re fine. I’m glad you made it here alright. We do these things every now and then to help build team morale. It gets stuffy spending all day in that office, so we come out, treat ourselves, and enjoy each other’s company away from all the desks and paperwork.” Roman adjusted his ruby tie and shrugged with one shoulder. Like it was nothing to drop a few thousand dollars in one night.
“That’s really cool of you to do that for everyone.” Kit could smell the man’s rich cologne on his clothing, and he tried not to make it obvious that he was utterly intoxicated by it. There was something about seeing Roman outside of the office that truly did it for him. Sure, he was the same old uppity hardass, but it was a bit like seeing a professor outside of the classroom. It made Kit just a little happier.
He cleared his throat and looked around for a waiter. “So, when does the food get here?”
The moment the words left his mouth, four servers appeared around the table, each with a tray of mugs and some strange nugget of food on the side. The servers placed the mugs down before each guest. Kit leaned in to look at his, slightly skeptical whether or not he wanted to eat it.
“This is the thyme-infused mushroom tea, and on the side is the white truffle brioche,” Roman explained.
“A bunch of words I don’t know the meaning of,” Kit said under his breath. Barbie giggled at his comment.
“The brioche is my favorite, I just wish they’d make it bigger,” she said. Kit nodded, unimpressed with the tiny morsel that he’d been given. He knew truffles were expensive, but still. He could probably fit seven of these things in his mouth and not even struggle.
They didn’t taste half bad, though, and that was what mattered. Kit chewed tentatively, looking around as everyone else ate and made conversation. Yolanda sipped from her tea and talked with Barbie about her husband Kevin, and for the first time, Kit could almost see a glimpse of kindness in the woman. Her advice was pretty sound, and Kit couldn’t argue that Barbie deserved better than whatever Kevin was offering her.
Kit took a sip of his tea and made a face. “This is different than the shroom tea I had in college,” he murmured. His coworker next to him, Logan, chuckled and nodded in agreement. Kit was glad at least one person was enjoying his snide remarks. Roman seemed to be completely ignoring him and only talking to the others at the table.
The servers returned again with the strangest looking lollipops Kit had ever seen. A woman placed the plate in front of him, and he narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out whether it was safe to eat.
“Yogurt with cocoa butter and fried lentils,” Roman said, as if answering Kit’s question. Kit made a face. By the color of the yogurt, he assumed it was plain. Once more, his face contorted, and he struggled to look like he enjoyed it.
When he glanced up, Roman sat glaring at him. Kit shrugged bashfully. What was he supposed to do, eat something he didn’t like? He pushed his plate forward a bit and tried to choke down the tea once more. This process went on for another hour. The servers placed something in front of him, Kit took one bite, and usually found the food prettier than it tasted.
There were a few things that he did enjoy, like the carrot tartar, but the portions were much too small for him to really get into it. When two hours rolled in, Kit put down his napkin and excused himself to go to the bathroom. There was only so much Roman-glare that he could take before he needed to leave.
He stepped into the men’s room and sighed. Even the inside of the bathroom was beautiful with its deep sinks and marbled countertops. He nodded at the attendant standing in the corner and checked himself out in the mirror. He still looked nice, like a million bucks, but his heart wasn’t in it. Each time something else had been placed in front of him, Kit felt his spirits sink a little lower.
This wasn’t his scene. If he was going to eat a three-hundred-dollar meal, he wanted it to actually feel that way. Here, it felt as if he were only eating appetizers at a formal party.
The bathroom door opened again and Roman stepped inside. He jerked his head and the restroom attendant nodded, stepping out so that they were alone.
Kit sighed. He knew he was in for it now.
“What’s wrong, Roman?” Kit asked, not bothering to look at the other man. He knew there would be a scowl on his face like there’d been all night.
“I could ask you the same question, Kit.”
“I’m fine. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve had a look on your face since you got here,” Roman said. Kit turned to look at him, his brows crinkled.
“So have you.” He crossed his arms. “You’ve been staring at me like I’m some idiot who’s never been to a nice restaurant.”
“I’m staring at you because you’re being rude. This meal is supposed to be special and you’re treating it like it’s no big deal.”
Kit bit his tongue. He was this close to saying that it wasn’t, that this dinner didn’t matter as much to him as it did to Roman, but he didn’t want to seem ungrateful for Roman spending so much money on him.
“Look, I know you don’t know me all that well, but this whole thing isn’t really my scene.” He gestured around the room to emphasize just exactly where they were. “I understand that you were trying to do something nice for everyone at work, but this whole dressing up, pinkies out while drinking champagne thing? That’s not who I am.”
“This restaurant was rated three stars by Michelin,” Roman said.
“Roman, I don’t know what that means. I’m happy that the Michelin Man loves to eat here, but I’m not like you guys.”
“That’s not who…” Roman started. He shook his head. “Look, whether you like this restaurant or not, you need to act like you have some sense about you. I heard all of your snarky comments. You’re lucky the chef wasn’t around.”
“I obviously wouldn’t insult the chef to his face, Roman.”
“How is that obvious? You’ve been acting like an ungrateful brat since you got here.”
“And you’ve been acting like a stuck-up dick since I got here, too. Nobody else but you has a problem with me making jokes, and that’s because nobody else is so preoccupied with appearances like you.”
“Kit—”
“Don’t even deny it, either, Roman. You freaked out when I said I wouldn’t buy your pants for you. You got all pissy because y
ou didn’t have the shirt that Ari liked. And now, when I’m making jokes and everyone else is laughing, you don’t like it. You don’t like it because you’re so used to everyone acting all stuffy around you, but that’s not me.”
“It’s not stuffy.”
Kit snorted. “It’s stuffy, and uptight, and bougie as fuck. And I’m none of those. I don’t worry about shit like that because at the end of the day, I don’t need to convince anyone that I’m something I’m not. Maybe you get off on being perfect for everyone, and that’s your prerogative. You’re allowed to do that. But if you ask me, what makes you insufferable sometimes is the fact that you don’t let yourself have fun. You’re too worried about looking good to everyone that you never have a good time with anything. My suggestion is to loosen the fuck up, do what you want, and pull that stick out of your—”
Kit’s words were silenced by Roman reaching forward to grab his shirt. His grand speech caught in his throat, too thick to swallow down. And when Roman yanked him forward, chest to chest, a flash of worry crossed his mind. Not that he’d said something wrong, but that he might actually be dreaming.
Roman’s long fingers laced through the back of Kit’s hair, and he stared into the younger man’s eyes. His lips pressed together tight, thoughtful, and before Kit could question whether he’d actually cross this line, Roman leaned forward to kiss him.
For just a second in time, Kit’s environment disappeared. He wasn’t in the bathroom of some high-end restaurant. He was in Roman’s arms, his heart thudding against his chest so hard that he worried Roman could feel it as well. Kit was overcome with the tickling sensations of Roman’s beard against his cheek and the way his shuddered breaths washed over him, warm and inviting.
Kit was greedy, as he was in most aspects of his life, and he turned his head and deepened the kiss. A shiver ran up his spine as his tongue brushed against Roman’s. The whimper he let out surprised even himself, but from the pleasured grumble racketing around in Roman’s throat, he couldn’t muster an ounce of shame. It felt good. Fuck, it felt so good.