“Were you even assigned the position to run these meetings?” someone shouts over the crowd.
“I almost feel bad for him,” I muse. “I wasn’t trying to make a statement. I’m just not kissing anyone’s boots. Managing is stressful enough. I sure as fuck don’t want the added stress of dealing with Taylor every day. No thanks.”
“I can tell you from experience that he has no boundaries,” Nason says. “He calls at all hours and expects you to be at his beck and call when he has questions, regardless of the time and day. Personally, I think it’s a good decision. I’d decline too if I’d realized it was an option.”
The meeting does not get back on track. It turns into chaos as everyone begins revolting against Taylor. It’s not that Taylor doesn’t mean well. He does. He just obsessively helicopters everyone and is stupidly nitpicky about dumb shit. Grass height is just tonight’s example.
We leave the meeting hall with the crowd. I’d say there’s always a good eighty to a hundred residents of all ages who attend the meetings. The entire community is very involved in everything. We’re a tight-knit group, which is one of the things I love about living here.
I don’t even despise the small-town island gossip. Most of the time, it’s silly things. Things that happen all over the world in all neighborhoods. Someone kicked someone’s lawn gnome.Someone threw a frisbee onto the neighbor’s roof. Someone’s dog is shitting on someone else’s lawn.
At the very least, it’s entertaining. Even the scandals. I don’t hate that. To be fair, if you’re having an affair in a place like Kala, you’re going to be caught. You’re asking to be caught.
My eyes flicker to Lie. He and Cash are walking ahead of us.
Does this mean we’re asking to be caught? It’s only a matter of time. Which means this thirst for my best friend’s son better run its course soon. Wecan’tkeep doing this.
“I’m going to walk Cash home,” Lie says. He and Cash wave as they take a right down Mediterranean Drive instead of continuing straight down Tasker.
“See you at home,” Nason says.
“What do you think is going to result from tonight?” I ask.
Nason snorts. “I think that depends on what happens. Has all the management actually stepped down or was it a show of solidarity? Were they caught up in the heat of the moment?” He shrugs. “I think either way, Mr. Calloway is definitely going to need to address the Taylor issue.”
“He’s harmless,” I say. “I almost feel bad. He means well.”
“He’s a pain in the ass and has grown far too big for his britches. His self-importance has skyrocketed because we get tired of arguing with him and end up enabling him. This needed to happen, even if you started this by accident.”
“Sorry?” I offer.
Nason laughs. “Nah. Totally necessary. But for the record, you’d be a damn good manager for the bar network. I bet you’d make it boom.”
I’ve always had a few ideas that I thought would be cool. I’ve kept them in my back pocket for when there’s a manager who actually wants to make improvements. Not simply manage what’s already taking place.
Being the manager would allow me to bring some new and exciting ideas to life.
However, not at the expense of my sanity and patience. I’m not a violent man, but two hours in a town meeting has me ready to chop Taylor up and add him to the blender behind the bar. He’s maddening.
I yawn, and Nason shakes his head. “What’s got you so tired all the time? You seeing someone and not telling me?”
I know he’s teasing, but the way I nearly flinched has me cringing. That’s far too close to home. I contemplate not answering or telling him I don’t want to talk about it. Both are suspicious when I’ve never done either.
Nason shoves me, laughing. “You are, aren’t you? Why the secrecy?”
I rub my face, buying myself some time. Fuck.
“It’s someone you shouldn’t be seeing, isn’t it?” he asks, grinning at me. “You’re having an affair!”
“Nason,” I say warily.
“Okay, okay. I won’t push. But I expect details.” He turns off our path and down his walkway toward his house. “See you tomorrow.”
I wave, thankful for the night. He couldn’t see the dread on my face at this conversation. Or the guilt. Or that I was likely green as my stomach threatened to vomit everywhere.
My door isn’t fully closed when I hear footsteps that sound like someone’s running. I open it as a dark figure comes down the road in the opposite direction from Nason’s house. They sprint across my lawn toward me.
It’s not difficult to recognize his shape. I dream of his shape. Those short fucking shorts that cup everything exceptionally well. His long, lean legs. Dark hair and even darker eyes.
