BBQ
Tinker checked his phone for the umpteenth time. Abby was supposed to call him when they arrived so he could meet them in the lobby. He’d been too impatient to wait once they’d finished setting up the platform for the barbecue. Harrison and Graham were on grill duty. The sides and drinks were all in the coolers and the plates and stuff had been carried up. All that was left was to wait.
“What are you all fidgety for?” Graham Senior asked.
Tink glanced at him. “I’m not fidgety.”
“Hmm. You’re dancing around like you got ants in your pants.”
Tink assessed Graham Senior, who’d become a semi-permanent fixture at the reception desk. He’d only meant to fill in temporarily when the last receptionist had quit after having a short-lived fling with Turner. Paige had been so mad about it, she’d threatened to fire Turner. If he wasn’t the only one that could pilot their helicopter, she might have. Graham talked her down and convinced his dad to answer the phones since he was always hanging around the building anyway.
The arrangement had worked for the last five or six months, and no one seemed in a hurry to hire an actual receptionist. So everyone who came to Leonidas was greeted by Graham Senior.
“How old are you, Senior?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Graham’s in his early forties, so that would make you early-to-mid-60s? I don’t think you’re old enough to say things like ‘ants in your pants.’”
“Wisdom has nothing to do with age,” Senior said.
Tink’s phone pinged. Abby and the kids had arrived. He shoved off the reception counter and through both sets of double glass doors to the parking lot. Abby’s mom, who he hadn’t officially met, and Lindsey were with them.
“Hey, you made it.” Jesus, he sounded like an idiot. Of course they made it, they were standing right there.
Abby smiled. “We did. Tinker, this is my mom, Susan.”
He shook her mom’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am. Officially, that is.”
“Well, at least he found his manners,” Susan said.
“Mother!”
Susan cocked an eyebrow and shrugged a shoulder. He twitched his mouth, trying not to smile. “Yes, ma’am. I’d forgotten them at work that day. Picked them up as soon as I got in on Monday.”
He took a large bowl from Olivia. “Here, let me take that. I’ll give you guys a tour of the office, then we’ll go out back where we’re set up for the barbecue.”
He held the doors for them and was the last one into the foyer. “This is Graham Senior. He kind of works here.”
“I’m holding down the fort for a while.” Senior stood from his desk and held his hand out to Susan. “You can call me Aiden.”
“You’re actually Aiden Graham, Senior?” He hadn’t realized Senior was actually a senior.
“Why do you think everyone calls me Senior?”
Tink shrugged. “‘Cause you’re old. I didn’t think you had a first name. I thought you were like Madonna or Cher.”
“Well, it’s Aiden,” he said gruffly.
“I’ll start calling you Aiden then.” Tink didn’t think Senior would like that, and he was right.
“Not you,” Senior said. “Just Ms. Susan.”
Susan blushed and tucked a stray strand of salt-and-pepper hair behind her ear. “You can call me Sue.”
Tink looked between the older man and woman flirting with each other and still shaking hands, although at that point there was more clasping than shaking. Damn, if Senior didn’t still have some game in his wise, old bones.
“Senior, you gonna let go of Ms. Susan so we can go out back?” Tink asked.
