Ezra bounced up as if his legs were spring-loaded. “Yes, sir, that would be excellent.”
Roman appreciated Ezra’s enthusiasm. And his manners. “I’ll tell you how to make the perfect cup of coffee, and if you succeed, then you have the job.”
“Oooh, high stakes,” Ezra said, bright-eyed and excited by the challenge. He unbuttoned his cuffs and began rolling up his sleeves methodically. His forearms were finely muscled with a light dusting of blond hair. His wrists were small but not delicate.
Roman instructed him first as to how and where to dispose of the coffee grounds, in the small bin for compost that he kept for the herb garden he’d yet to install. He then told Ezra how to rinse the French press with warm water and set it to rights. The coffee needed to be ground and measured, which Ezra did with scientific precision. The water was heated and then added, a timer was set, and when the coffee was poured, Roman knew without even sampling it that the young man had done a very fine job.
“This is delicious,” Roman said with genuine appreciation. He could certainly get used to waking up to this every morning, unless it wasn’t the type of service Ezra provided. “Is making coffee something you’d be willing to do?”
“Oh yes, sir, whatever you want, I’d be happy to do for you,” Ezra said with complete innocence. “Except for cooking. I’m not very good with food.” Roman was still recovering from the carte blanch offer when Ezra’s hands clasped together and he said with a hopeful note, “Does this mean I’ve got the job?”
“Yes, but there will be a three-month probationary period, and I’m not comfortable with room and board being your only payment. I’ll pay you minimum wage to start and we’ll check back in two weeks to renegotiate a wage.”
“That’s really not necessary. I’m more than happy with an unpaid arrangement.”
Roman was about to tell him that he could afford it, but he’d made that mistake with people in the past. “The only way I’ll agree to this is if it’s paid.”
Ezra nodded. “All right then. I could use the extra money.”
“When can you start?” Roman asked, surprised to discover that he was looking forward to it.
“Whenever you’ll have me.”
Surely the phrasing wasn’t intentional but Roman found himself saying, “As soon as possible.”
They beamed at each other in a way that Roman might have considered foolish if he’d seen any other pair of near strangers doing it. It was probably just the buzz of caffeine anyhow.
“I’ll come back this afternoon. I don’t have much stuff. Mostly books and papers and my computer and cleaning supplies…” Ezra drifted into his thoughts, likely taking inventory on what he’d need to pack.
“I’ll have a key for you then,” Roman said. “And I’ll give you the tour when you return.”
While he still had some doubts about their arrangement, Roman recognized the obvious benefits of having someone care for his home, and the young man seemed polite, conscientious, and fairly unobtrusive. The idea of something romantic forming between them was rather far-fetched and yet, when he took Ezra’s smaller hand in his own to seal the deal, an undeniable spark ofsomethingpassed between them.
“Thank you for the opportunity, sir.”
“My pleasure, Ezra.”
* * *
The first thingRoman did after Ezra departed was to call his best friend for some much-needed clarification. Jay was at Flex, his second home, and in the middle of a workout.
“I met ‘the one’ today.”
“Which one?” Jay asked in between labored breaths. It sounded like he was doing pulldowns. They’d worked out together often enough over the years that Roman knew Jay’s routines by his breathing patterns alone.
“The man you wanted to set me up with.”
“You did? How?”
“He came to my house.”
“How’d he get your address?”
“Um, you gave it to him?”
“Did I?”
That sent up a flare of caution in Roman’s mind. Was Ezra just a really good con artist?
