by Rhys Everly
I followed Andy to the back into his office, and once he closed the door behind me, I turned to face him.
“What’s the matter with you? Why are you acting so weird?”
“I’m not acting weird,” he said before I even finished my sentence.
“Yes you are.”
“I just don’t want you to serve my brother and his boyfriend,” he said.
“Why?”
“No reason,” he mumbled.
“Andy!”
“They were all grilling me during breakfast about my new girlfriend,” he said, and I was confused.
How did we jump from him not wanting me to serve his brother to his family grilling him about a new girlfriend?
“Huh?”
“They were all making fun of me and trying to get me to talk about my new girlfriend,” he said like a peeved child.
“But you don’t have a new girlfriend,” I said. “Do you? Dude, I hope you don’t. Otherwise the gift you just gave me is a bit of a dick move.”
“Of course I don’t have a girlfriend. They were just saying how I seemed different and they all assumed I have a new girlfriend,” he said. “I just don’t want them to suspect something.”
Okay, at least now he’s absurd behavior was making sense.
“And why would they suspect anything? Because you’ve got a fabulous gay man working for you?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “It sounds stupid when you put it like that.”
My heart melted a little. He might be older and more experienced than me, but he was still a man full of insecurities like the rest of us.
I pushed myself against him and put my hands on either side of his face to give him a kiss.
“It’s okay, silly billy. We all have those dumb-dumb moments. Now can I go back to my very famous table and sort out something?” I asked.
“Sort out what?”
“Nothing for you to be concerned about. Not for the moment. Let me get the details right first and then I’ll tell you,” I said, slapping his left cheek gently.
“Just don’t do anything stupid,” he said.
“Huh! Darling…I’m not you,” I said, and Andy gasped.
I stuck my tongue out at him just as he was about to grab me and left the office before he could “punish” me.
As I closed the door behind him, his laughter boomed from the other side.
“Cheeky little shit,” he said, and I made a mental note to punish him myself for that comment.
“Where were we, folks?” I asked as soon as I stepped in front of Leo and Dawson again. “Oh yes! I’ve got an idea. Do you think you can do something for me?” I asked.
When I finally left Leo and Dawson in peace and made my way to the bar to grab an order, my phone vibrated, and for a second, I thought Andy had reactivated the butt plug.
He hadn’t.
It was a text message from Trent.
“Havu forgoten bout me whats wrong witu, douchebag,” it read.
How literate from a future school teacher. I could only weep for the kids he’d teach when, and if—and that was a big if—he graduated.
Also, what a way to go. Way to make a boy text you back. Not.
I shoved my phone in my back pocket and grabbed the two beers Johnny had made for one of my tables.
Twenty
Andy
I pondered over Kyle’s words for a while after he left the office. Was I being paranoid? I was at war with myself.
On one hand, I couldn’t contain my happiness. Kyle made me feel things, things I hadn’t felt for years if I ever had. And on the other hand, I didn’t want my family—or anyone else for that matter—to find out.
It was a weird juxtaposition because I wanted everyone to know how happy Kyle was making me, but there was a part of me that felt I would be judged if the truth came out.
I was a straight man. I was a widower. I had three kids. A family man with a staple business in this town. Even if said staple business was not as stable any more.
Also, sharing my secret with the world felt like I’d be sharing Kyle with the world, too. And I didn’t want to share him.
Was that crazy? This protectiveness over the young man that had given me so much for so little in return.
He’d given me his affection. His body. His mind.
Why couldn’t he see I was using him? I was using him for all those things. For my gratification. For my pleasure. For my safety.
Yet…
He made me feel young again. Made me feel like I deserved a second chance in life. Made me feel that all was not lost because I’d lost my wife.
There was life after death, and he was it.
Agh, I growled and banged my fist on the desk.
I’d gone into the thick head of mine and taken a deep dive.
I was being paranoid. Just because the family had been ribbing me about a new special friend in my life and Kyle was a new person in my life didn’t mean the two were linked. Did it?
I didn’t know how gaydar worked. I wasn’t gay, bi, or whatever until a few weeks ago, so how would I know how it works?
What if Leo and Dawson had picked up on my ambiguous sexuality and realized that there was something going on between the young man working at my bar and me?
Paranoid? Definitely.
Wrong? Probably not so much. I decided hiding in my office wouldn’t make my mind any clearer. I came out of my office and locked the door behind me. Then I joined my brother and his boyfriend.
It wasn’t often that I saw my little brother, and any time spent with him made up for lost time over the years he was away.
If what they said was true and they were in town house-hunting, they’d soon be moving to Cedarwood Beach. Although how that would fit with their busy lives, I had no clue.
And how that would change things around here was still to be seen. Having two A-list celebrities living in the middle of Nowhere, Virginia? It was bound to make things interesting to say the least.
“Did you fall in a ditch?” Leo asked.
“Huh?” I said.
“What the hell took you so long?”
“Oh, I-uhm…had to sort out some spreadsheets…erm-invoices, you know.”
Leo raised an eyebrow and looked at Dawson.
“Spreadsheets and invoices? Yeah, sure I know,” he said very slowly, as if he’d heard the conversation Kyle and I had in the office and was teasing me with it.
There was no way he knew. We weren’t loud, were we? Nah. Besides, I wasn’t gone that long. And we’d only talked. There was no chance anyone had heard us.
Oh God. This whole ordeal was going to drive me crazy if Kyle didn’t put me in a grave first with the overload of orgasms he pulled out of me.
“Anyway…” I said and tapped their table in an attempt to change the subject to safer territory. “Where are you guys seeing properties? Anywhere I know?”
Dawson shrugged and looked at Leo.
“It’s a tricky sitch. We need to find something that’s private but also part of the hubbub of the town. What’s the point of being in a small town if you don’t get to experience the community?” Dawson said.
I still couldn’t believe my little brother was dating an international movie star.
Obviously my brother was one, too, but it wasn’t the same. He was my brother. Whereas his boyfriend was…The Dawson Eldred.
“Small town is not all you think it is,” I said.
He pursed his lips and shook his head.
“I dunno man. Living in cities all my life I’m kind of craving the small town vibe.”
I put my hands up and scooted my brother so I could take a seat next to him. The booth creaked a little, and I made a small prayer that it didn’t fall apart under my brother.
“Whatever, man. I warned you. Don’t come crying at me when you get sick of all the…gossip,” I said.
“Gossip?” Dawson asked, looking from me to his boyfriend and back to me. Leo laughed. “You think I mind a little
bit of gossip? Have you not seen what kind of shit we have to live with? Gossip is better than paparazzi and tabloids sensationalizing our lives. I think we can both survive a little bit of harmless gossip,” he said.
“Touché,” I replied just as their food arrived at the table by my very hot, very bouncy boyfriend.
He was my boyfriend, wasn’t he? I mean, we had discussed it back at the forest and we’d decided this wasn’t an affair and more of a relationship, but how did I go from straight as an arrow to whatever I was now with a boyfriend?
The idea didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would, although calling him boyfriend made me feel sixteen rather than my age. Forty-year-olds didn’t have boyfriends. They had wives, or husbands, or life partners. They definitely didn’t have boyfriends.
But if I was in a relationship with him, why was I hiding him? What kind of a relationship was in hiding?
An affair.
And there we go again. Going round and round in my head, all the stupid terms, trying to define what Kyle was to me.
“Mint lamb burger with tzatziki and sweet fries,” Kyle said and put the plate in front of Leo, “and cheese and ham pretzel casserole for Detective Strong.” He offered Dawson his plate, and Dawson offered him his smile. “And what about you, sir? Will your palate be gracing us this afternoon?” Kyle asked me.
“Don’t get cocky, Kyle,” I said, hoping they weren’t seeing this for the ribbing it was.
“Cocky? Darling, I’m always cocky,” he said and turned to Leo, rolling his eyes.
“Would you like a drink, Mr. Karagiannis?” Kyle asked in his very low and suggestive tone that always managed to make every hair on my body stand on end.
Why was he doing this? Did he not know the effect he was having on me by being like that? Or was the reason he was being playful in front of my brother payback for being an ass to him earlier?
“I’ll have a lemon soda,” I said, gritting my teeth.
“Right away, Mr. K.,” he said. “Do y’all need some fixin’s?”
“I’m good, thanks,” Dawson replied.
“Enjoy your meal, sweetie,” Kyle winked at Dawson and left the table to fetch my drink.
He was trying to get a reaction from me. That was it.
There was no other explanation why he’d call Dawson sweetie and wink at him.
I groaned audibly.
So not only was I paranoid, I was pathetic. Acting like a virgin, horny teenager.
What was it about him that turned me into a possessive, Alpha jerk?
“Kyle is…” Leo started.
“A great kid?” I asked.
“Feisty,” Dawson responded, and Leo nodded.
“He is great, don’t get me wrong, but he is feisty for sure. What’s going on between you two?”
“What’s going on? What do you mean?” I said too fast and too aggressively.
I had to watch it or my reactions would give away the secret before it had the chance to spill of its own.
“I mean what’s the deal with him? He seems to like you. You seem to tickle his fancy,” he said in a very bastardised British accent that didn’t suit him at all.
And you’d think living in the UK for so long would give him a more convincing accent.
I blew raspberries and dismissed them while my foot tapped the floor impatiently.
“Me? Tickle his…fancy? Please!” I said.
“Have you? Tickled his fancy?” Dawson asked, giving me a dirty look mid-bite.
I grimaced and shook my head.
“You guys are being dicks. I’m forty-three. I don’t tickle anyone’s fancy. Besides…I’m straight. Always have been,” I said sounding more and more pathetic with every word.
Leo laughed and took a bite of his burger.
“Relax, bro. We’re just joking. What is with straight dudes? Why can’t they take a gay joke?” he asked his boyfriend, and I looked at Dawson eager for his reply.
“Here you go, Mr. K. Your lemon soda,” Kyle said and arched his back as he set my drink down.
Kyle! Stop doing this. I’m already in deep shit with this conversation. I don’t need your…sexiness getting in the way and making things worse. Or hard.
“Thanks,” I mumbled under my breath, and Kyle walked away from the table.
“Fragile masculinity?” Dawson offered an answer to his boyfriend’s question before Kyle interrupted.
“Soooo fragile,” Leo drawled, staring right at me.
My phone came to life in my pocket, and I quickly removed it to silence it. The screen informed me an unknown number was calling me. And unknown numbers only meant one thing.
“If you’ll excuse me. Douchebags!” I said and walked away from the table.
I walked outside. The less people around me when I took the call the better.
“Hello, is this Andrew Karagiannis?” A harsh male voice asked.
“Yes.”
“I am calling from Harlow Holdings. It’s in regards to your business loan repayments.”
“What about my business repayments?” I asked.
“I can see you haven’t made your installments in the last three months, and you have failed to notify us of any changes in your circumstances.”
“Okay. And?”
“You do understand that you have an obligation to repay your loan? I’m afraid I’m calling to inform you that if you don’t make a repayment within twenty business days—that’s a calendar month, by the way—your loan will default, and we’ll be sending a representative to seize your business assets,” the man said.
“You can’t do that. My business is worth more than your stupid business loan,” I said.
“Read your contract, Mr. Karagiannis. It’s all in there. When you signed it, you signed it against your business assets. And some personal ones, too. Like, for example, a 2012 Jeep Grand Cherokee,” he said. My car. “A 2015 Toyota Highlander.” Nathan’s car. “A 2014 Toyota Prius.” Maya’s car. “And a 2018 Ford Focus.” Yaya’s car.
Well, as Kyle would say, Holy Mother of Craps.
Twenty-One
Kyle
“Help me understand, Kyle,” Davies said as I sat opposite him in his office on Monday morning.
“Help you understand, what?”
“Last time we spoke, your boss was being...”
“A douchebag? An asshole? A dildo?”
I could see Davies was trying to keep his laughter in check and present to me as the strict professor everyone thought he was.
“Resistant to change is what I was trying to say,” he said.
“That’s one way to put it,” I mumbled.
“So, what brought the change?”
Well, sir, I sucked his dick and gave him my hole to use as he pleases, so that made him change his tune.
“After I shared our business plan with him, he started to see the possibilities.”
Well, I couldn’t exactly say the truth, could I?
“The fact that it’s game season also helped. It reinforced all the changes I’ve already implemented. So, you know, it wasn’t all me. The bar has its regulars, too.”
“That’s not true, though, Kyle, is it? You’re cutting yourself short there. If the bar had its regulars, then it wouldn’t be on the verge of foreclosure. Give yourself some credit,” Davies said, and his approval meant more to me then he’d ever know.
It made me feel like he’s equal, rather than his student. Which was far-fetched, I know. How dare I think I was on the same level with a mature, well educated professor and successful businessman?
“I guess I had a part in the increase,” I shrugged.
“Looking at these numbers, I’d say you had more than a part in it. I’d say you were key to the uplift in Andy’s Bar.”
Gordon went through the printed papers I brought with me for our meeting.
“Sales have increased by a thousand percent, reputation has improved by at least sixty-five percent, loyalty has been reinforced. I’d say you have played a
definite role in saving that man’s business. He should be kissing your feet,” he said.
Does kissing my dick over and over and over count?
“Keep up the good work. Another couple of months of this and not only are you going to graduate with the highest grades of the year, you’ll help your boss get back in the black. Which I don’t think he’s been in a few years.”
I wanted nothing more than Andy’s Bar to be profitable again and for Andy to be happy. It was more than money. Saving his business would save his health and sanity. And that was worth more than anything.
“I’m curious to see what else you’ve got to shoot your GPA through the roof. How are you taking this to the next level?” he asked.
Next level? Really? I thought what I’d done was already the next level.
“You’ve gone to the basics, which is all well and good. Have you thought about social media? Advertising? Events? I know the bar is in a small town, but from what I gather, it’s become a popular attraction. You can do a lot to scale the business even further.”
“Oh,” I said, “of course. Social media is one of my passions. I’ve got a plan. I’ve made a list of vloggers and local journalists that I’m gonna start contacting one by one to invite to Andy’s Bar. I’ve already set up accounts with influencer platforms, so pretty soon, we’ll have influencers sharing their own Instas, while I’m building all the profiles and accounts online.
“Sounds…great. Why isn’t any of this in here?” Davies leafed through my print-out with a hint of a frown.
“I didn’t have the time to put it all together for you. Besides, I knew we’d chat about it, so…” I replied, and it was the god-honest truth.
Between going to class, doing coursework, working shifts, and screwing my boss, there wasn’t much spare time for anything else.
There was a little white lie there, too. When I said I’d done all those things, I hadn’t actually. But they were on my to-do list on my phone. So that counted. Right?
“That’s fine. But make sure to put it all in for our next meeting,” Davies said. “Now, tell me what you’re focusing on for the next four weeks?”