I make my way down the main hall. I opted against open concept for Dauntless because I hated it at all the firms I did internships at. It felt like working in a fishbowl and wasn’t conducive to creativity. Instead, everyone here has their own office off the main hall with glass walls with retractable blinds. At the end of the hall is a long conference room and at the front, by Betty’s desk, is a kitchen. My office is the first on the left and Grant’s is across from mine. He’s got his blinds up and is sitting behind his desk. He gets up when he sees me.
He’s smiling as he enters my office. “We got the account.”
“Really?”
“We barely made it back to the car after the meeting and I got the email. They signed the contract,” Grant says proudly. I get up, grab him by the shoulders, and pull him into a bro-hug.
“You’re a fucking king,” I declare, and he laughs.
“The monthly hashtag contest was your idea,” Grant tells me. “They loved it.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t just that,” I reply and walk back over to sit behind my desk. I figure he’ll go back to his office but instead he walks over and closes my door.
“Uh-oh,” I say as I lower myself into my chair and start to roll up the sleeves on my button down. “That was only the good news, right? There’s bad?”
Grant sighs. “Yeah, but it’s not work-related. Hence the privacy.”
My brow furrows. Grant rubs his chin and his brown eyes look conflicted. “Bennie reached out.”
“What does ourex-drummer want?” I emphasize the ex part, trying not to sound nervous. If he wants his job back and Grant and Joe want to give it to him, then I’ll have no excuse to see Bowen again.
Grant puts his hands on his hips, his suit jacket opening. “He wanted to explain to me it isn’t us, it’s you he can’t work with anymore.”
Grant’s eyes hold my stare for a long second. Long enough to make me look away sheepishly, which confirms what I’m sure Bennie already told him. “Chase, I thought you had rules.”
“I do. One and done.” I sigh and lean back in my chair. “It was a weak moment. I swear I told him it wasn’t going to be a thing. It was just one night. And he said that was fine.”
“Of course it wasn’t fine, Chase. He has a crush on you. Joe and I both told you that a long time ago.” Grant frowns like I’m the obstinate child who was told not to touch the stove because it was hot, and then I touched the stove. He shakes his head and scratches his beard again. “People with crushes don’t usually get over it after they have sex. Unless the sex was bad.”
“I don’t do bad sex,” I reply, and Grant almost laughs at that. Almost. “I don’t do sex at all, but when I do it’ll be great. It was just a couple of blow jobs.”
“Okay Romeo, well whatever the details, you fucked us all out of a good drummer,” Grant replies, losing his smile.
“But Bennie was always flaky. He was late for practice all the time. He didn’t play half the songs as well as Bowen does,” I argue but he doesn’t seem less annoyed by those facts.
“Bennie is a nice guy. You hurt him.” Grant holds up a hand to stop me from arguing. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. I know that you don’t exactly get how feelings work because you haven’t been allowed to actually have them. But either way, the damage is done. I’m not saying I want him back in the band, but it would be nice if you could at least try to mend the friendship.”
“I can try.” Grant seems happy with that and opens the door to my office. But before he can step through it and cross the hall to go back to his own office, he pauses and glances at me over his shoulder.
“Can you make a new rule?” he asks. “No nakedness with bandmates unless it’s in the hot tub. Platonically?”
I just stare at him. He blinks. Then he blinks again, and I can literally see the light bulb flicker on behind his brown eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“It was just once and Bowen is totally cool with it. I swear to God,” I tell him in a whisper so no one in the office will overhear if they walk by. “I was very clear. Clearer than I’ve ever been. And he gets it. I swear.”
“I hope so,” Grant warns. “Because I just booked another wedding, for double the price we did the last one for because it’s a last-minute thing, their band bailed, and it would be fabulous if we had a drummer for it.”
He leaves, closing the door behind him.
* * *
Later that night, I order another Crianza from Murph and try really hard to keep my eyes from wandering over to where Bowen is serving a couple in a booth. This is my fourth glass of Spanish wine. I’m full-on tipsy with drunk on my horizon. It isn’t normal for me to get hammered on a weeknight, but I had to come in here to tell Bowen about the paper options and the wedding gig. And then Tanner mentioned they’d finally gotten another shipment of the Spanish red I like so much, so I decided to have a glass. And then Bowen offered to buy me another one. And then… well, sticking around and chatting with him in between customers felt like a much more enjoyable option than going home and watching TV or working on a new song. Which is crazy because I love working on my own music. I can spend a whole weekend holed up at home doing just that and not get bored. But I’d rather be here stealing snippets of conversation with Bowen.
Bowen appears next to me and puts his tray with two empty pint glasses and some cash on the counter beside me. His eyes land on Murph. “Last customer of the night, I’m guessing.”
Murph leans on the bar top and grins. “I don’t want to jinx anything but Bowen, it looks like you’ve made it through your first catastrophe-free shift.”
Bowen turns to look back at the tables. The couple is putting on their jackets and heading for the door. Besides me, Murph, and Bowen, the only other people left in the bar are the owner Harrison and his husband Finn. Bowen’s head swivels back and he’s almost smiling, but then he knocks on the sleek wood bar top. “Knock on wood, you may be correct.”
