CHAPTER EIGHT
Vahin Arora
Steven’s knees bumped Vahin’s as he twisted in his swivel chair. “Sorry.”
Vahin rolled his eyes and tried to scoot back, but his chair was already against the wall. “It’s okay. We could’ve met somewhere else.”
Steven shook his head. “Nope. I could hear it in your voice. You were trying to keep from coming back into Mary’s.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
Steven glowered and cocked an eyebrow.
Vahin couldn’t suppress a chuckle, which was surprising, considering how much like a pile of shit he felt. “Well, at least not like you’re implying. I wasn’t trying to avoid Mary’s. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to be here right now. Less than a day after….”
Cheers erupted from behind the office door—apparently whatever game was on the TV was going according to plan.
“That’s what I mean. Avoiding. All of a sudden you feel like you don’t deserve to be here. We’re your family. And not the kind that’s going to turn our backs on you.”
The words stung, hitting Vahin’s fears as if he’d been wearing a bull’s-eye. “You’re about as subtle as ManDonna.”
Steven shrugged. “Screw subtle. We’ve known each other too long. And I’m starting to get a cramp from being in this tiny office with your hugeness and not able to move properly.” He bashed their knees together, this time intentionally. “I know you. I know you’re beating yourself up, and I have no doubt this is triggering being severed from your family.”
Despite knowing Steven’s words came from a good place, a place of genuine love and care, they dug a bit too deep for Vahin’s liking. “You’re kinda hitting below the belt here. I’m beating myself up enough—”
“Exactly! And you need to stop. It wasn’t your fault for being gay and not measuring up to your family’s religion, and it wasn’t your fault that you fell for a fake ID.”
Vahin held his breath before slowly releasing it. Arguing with Steven was pointless, and he meant well. Hell, Steven was showing him more love than his biological family had shown him. But it was just a bit too soon. And whether Vahin’s frustration was aimed at his family, Steven, or simply a distraction from the past many hours, he wasn’t sure. Nor did he really care at the moment. “Great! So it wasn’t my fault. That means I can start my normal shift here in a bit?”
Steven’s cheeks reddened, and he glanced away but seemed unable to find anything to focus on.
Maybe Vahin was the one who was hitting below the belt, and the last person he needed to take his frustrations out on was Steven. “Sorry. I know I can’t work today. I know I won’t be able to work here again.”
Steven’s gray-blue eyes met Vahin’s once more. “We don’t know that. Let’s see how this all plays out. You said Marlon sounded hopeful.” Vahin started to interject, but Steven didn’t give him a chance. “If the ticket holds up, then yeah, I can’t justify keeping you on staff. As it is, with whatever fine Mary’s is going to have to pay, our insurance is going to go through the roof.”
Vahin felt another spike of guilt; though the fines he possibly faced as the server were high, he knew they were nothing compared to what Mary’s might have to pay. And that was money they couldn’t afford to lose. “I’m not going to ask you to hire me back, and I’ll help pay the fines that come down. I might have to do it over time, but I’ll pay you back. Every cent.”
Steven waved him off. “None of that. This is part of serving alcohol. It’s a risk that I knew about going into it. We survived the stings that went on a few years ago, so our record is solid. It’s not like this is our second or third offense. That would be a different story.”
That might have alleviated Vahin’s guilt if it had been a normal sting, but it hadn’t been. He wasn’t fully sure why, but this had been about him. Maybe more about Marlon and his horrid partner, but about him, nonetheless. “Well, I’m not going to argue about it. I’ll pay you back if Mary’s is charged.”
It looked like Steven was going to protest again, but his expression changed. “So you’re certain you asked for ID before the kid took a drink?”
Vahin tried not to let his frustration show. “We’ve been through this a billion times. The story isn’t going to change. I’m 99 percent certain I served the kid a drink, but then asked for his ID before he actually took a sip. Marlon seemed to think that was in my favor, but I still served the drink before asking for proof of age, and the kid drank before I saw any.”
Rehashing that part made the walls of the tiny office begin to close in, and he could tell Steven was getting ready to go through every minute detail for the hundredth time. Vahin couldn’t do it, not even for Steven. He stood, causing Steven to try to back up to make room. “Thanks for letting me know you’re in my corner. It truly means the world to me, but I’ve gotta get some fresh air.” He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Actually, is ManDonna coming in today?”
“No drag shows today, you know that.” His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Maybe I’ll just call her, er… call Daniel….” Despite seeing Daniel out of his drag persona countless times through the years, he still thought of him as ManDonna.
“I can tell you’re thinking something.” Steven stood, his voice growing hopeful. “Did she see something that might help get this thing dismissed?”
“Hmm?” Vahin glanced over, his face so close to Steven’s he could almost feel the hairs of Steven’s beard. He opened the door and stepped through before turning back, the cheer and brightness of the restaurant not permeating past his eyes. “No, she was in the middle of a show. I’m sure she didn’t see anything. I’m going to call her… er, him, and ask to talk to his husband.”
“How could Hershel help? He wasn’t even—” Steven’s eyes grew large, and he scowled. “You’re moving too fast, Vahin. You don’t need to look for a new job yet. Wait and see what happens.”
“I can’t. I need to prepare for reality. And if I’m working for Hershel’s construction company, at least I’m still in the family. Kinda.”
