Tom had to admit he had a point but these men were his friends, his family.
“Seriously though,” Phil said, “I don’t know why you won’t let us give you a hand. I can help with some of the reno, particularly the kitchen area and the counter. I can get you new whitegoods at wholesale prices—”
“And like I’ve said before, I’m happy to help with the floorboards and the painting,” John offered.
Tom had to grin at the thought of John covered in dust while he worked a sander over the well-worn floor. “You want to get on your hands and knees to remove all those nails?”
John looked at the floors and back at Tom. “Ahh… maybe the painting?”
Tom burst into laughter. “Thanks guys, but I’ve got it under control.”
“I think our boy Thomas just needs a bit of convincing,” Elliot said.
“No, really.” Tom injected firmness into his voice. They’d had this argument before. “I want to do things my way.”
“Your way seems the slow way. We can get this place polished up in no time—”
“I said no!” The words burst from Tom’s mouth before he could stop them, but fuck, he was sick and tired of no one understanding his desire to do this himself. Hell, heneededto do it himself.
Tom looked from shocked man to shocked man. Phil was wide-eyed, staring at Tom. Elliot was opening and closing his mouth as if he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what—or if he should say anything at all.
John swallowed hard. “You heard him, boys. Let’s give Tom credit that he’ll ask when he needs our help.”
Thomas looked at John gratefully, hoping his friend could see how relieved he was.
“Anyway.” John pushed back his stool and rose. “I have to get back to the office. Thanks for meeting me, guys. I needed a bit of time away from the doom and gloom of the office. Are we still on for the footy on Saturday night?” John looked to the others.
“Sure.” Phil nodded.
“Yep. I can’t believe you got tickets to see the Swans from the corporate box.” Elliot stood and grinned at John.
“Ah, you’d better enjoy the perk while it lasts. If… ah…whenI’m out of a job there’ll be no more free tickets.”
John turned to Tom. “And you’re coming, right?”
Tom fidgeted behind the bar, stacking the empty coffee cups. “Um… no, I can’t make it. Sorry.”
“But the cafe’s closed on Saturday nights.” Elliot tilted his head in puzzlement.
“Yeah. I have other plans.”
“But I thought—” Elliot started, only to be interrupted by John.
“C’mon, guys, he’s obviously had a better offer.”
“Better than hanging out with us, better than schmoozing with free food and drinking free beer?” Phil sounded amazed.
Tom blanched at the words and swallowed hard against the sense of unease tightening his chest. So reminiscent of his past life….
“Yeah, better than that,” John said. He winked at Tom as he wrapped his striped scarf around his neck. Tom’s relief was instant. John had always been the most sensitive one of the bunch and picked up on the mood.
“I’d better head off too,” Elliot said. “I’ve got to meet with the chief financial officer this afternoon to go over the budget.” His grim face and the roll of his eyes showed how much he wasn’t looking forward to the session.
“And I’d better get back to the showroom before Dad starts wondering where I am,” Phil said. “I’m surprised he hasn’t called already.”
“C’mon, big boy.” John took Phil by the elbow and led the way towards the door.
They all raised a hand in farewell. Tom waved back as he listened to their teasing on the way out. John was saying something to Phil about overreacting, knowing full well that Mr Santos never kept such strict tabs on Phil. He might have butted in at work to “give advice,” but Mr Santos pretty much trusted Phil to put in the hours.
As he watched them stroll past the glass shop front, Tom had a brief flash of regret for his old life. But it was short lived. He’d been the one to fuck it up, and he had to live with the consequences. He straightened his back and turned from the sight of his friends, focusing instead on clearing a couple of tables and seeing if the small group of customers seated in front of the non-working fireplace needed a refill.
