“My morning was better.”
Austin looks at me over his shoulder and attempts to glare, but I’ve seen him cuddled up on the couch with his stuffies, watching cartoons. His glare is just cute to me. He doesn’t respond to my quip and I go back to watching him work.
He’s efficient, good at his job. The way he talks about running the place, I know he enjoys it. He has the days, like everyone does, where it’s harder than others, but overall hesays he’s happy he got it. I’m happy he found something. His job before Paul passed away didn’t pay a lot, but it was a call center and it allowed him to finish getting his Bachelor’s degree online. Paul was so proud of him and I attended the little get together graduation party the summer before he passed.
He turns back with a smile and slides the drink over. “I steamed the milk so it’s really hot. Be careful. If you want to hang out over at the tables, I just have to close out the registers and then clean the dining area and I’ll be good.”
“Take your time,” I say. “The club is open all night and we don’t have any other plans this weekend. I'll pass the time checking some emails or something."
His face scrunches up for a split second. I see it before he schools his expression again. That was worry. I don't walk away from the register and we stand in silence for a second before he lets out a sigh. "I guess I'm still worried that someone is going to say something tonight. About us and… Our relationship."
"You leave that worry to me, okay? Whatever anyone says, I'll handle it. Tonight is for you to have fun, okay?" He looks over my shoulder and I note he's picking at his nails. I'm trying to break him of the habit. I reach a hand across the counter and rest it on his. "Has someone said something to you?"
He opens his mouth to say something and then closes it. I can feel my heart dropping to my toes. I didn't think he spoke with anyone from our old circle. Or that any of them would be cruel enough. "Austin, tell me."
"It's no one from the club or anything," he says quickly. His eyes go wide and I hate seeing him fight back tears. "I just got a text from my mom asking if I was going to be coming to the Halloween thing tomorrow night. My niece is old enough now to actually understand the concept oftrick-or-treating. When I told her I had plans with you, she sort of brushed it off as nothing serious."
I know he doesn't have a good relationship with his family. He's mentioned them a few times, but only ever in passing. "I'm sorry, Austin. Did you want to change plans tonight?" I know he's been looking forward to going to the club tonight and the Daddy in me wants to tell him to just push it away and not worry, but I also know my boy. He's such a sweetheart and doesn't like confrontation.
"No," he says easily. "I wanna go to the club."
I smile, squeeze his hand. “Good, because I brought Koka with me.”
Austin’s eyes light up for a split second before he remembers he’s at work. I smile at the expression and hold my drink up. “Thanks for the drink.”
“I’ll try to get done as soon as I can.”
I settle at one of the tables and take a tentative sip of my hot chocolate. It’s delicious, but hot, so I let it cool for a few minutes. I pull my phone out, not lying to Austin when I said I had a few emails to sort through. Running your own business means the 9-5 life isn’t always doable. I have several emails waiting for me, most are just recaps for the week and calendar invites for meetings next week.
There’s one, buried among the others. It’s from a sender I don’t recognize and I almost think it’s spam. But there’s a name mentioned in the subject line that I do know.
REFERRAL FROM MARKETING EVENT
I'm surprised that someone has reached out. I got an update from Josiah that the event went well the other day and they spoke to a handful of people that seemed interested, but theycouldn't tell if it was serious or not. There were two other, larger, names at the same event that do the same things.
I glance up when I hear Austin’s laugh. The doors are already locked and there are no other customers but me. Austin is walking toward me with a bucket in his hand. The other guy, the one that took my order, is shaking his head behind the coffee bar. They have music playing somewhere on the other side. It’s not loud, but I recognize it as a recent pop song thanks to Austin's playlist.
“You really didn’t have to meet me here,” Austin says. “I could have met you back at the house.”
“And deprive myself of seeing you working in those pants?” I give him a wink, knowing that the table I chose is far enough away from the other workers. His pants do fit him well. My mind supplies me with the memory of this morning for the twentieth time; my face so close to his ass, my hands on him.
Austin rolls his eyes at me and continues wiping down the tables. I go back to the email on my phone.
Remington Higgins,
I hope this email finds you well. I was given a business card with your email and wanted to reach out. I have a set of land I'd love for you to take a look at. It's about a two hour drive from the city. Couple hundred acres of land. It's a campground of sorts that hasn't had any TLC in a couple of years. I would love to meet with you and get some prices. My number and everything is included below.
Take care,
Eugene Patterson
Huh.
Remington Properties is primarily a city endeavor. We have three companies, two apartment buildings, and a handful of houses in the city limits the landlords rent out. But something outside the city and with that much land? That is a whole other ballgame when it comes to property management.
“What’s wrong?” Austin is standing next to me. I tilt my screen for him to read the email. It takes him only a minute. “Wow. Is that good?”
I tilt my head back and look up at him. His hand lands on my back, just below my neck. “It could be,” I say. “I’ll have to bring it up on Monday in our meeting. I’m not going to worry about it this weekend.”
