“Take a break first and we’ll have some pizza,” Mr. Santos said, already opening the box like he’d been waiting for this moment. “I know you didn’t eat much today.”
There was something almost fatherly in the way he said it, not soft, exactly, but observant. The kind of tone people used when they noticed things Finn didn’t think anyone noticed.
“I had a bad day, but it’s getting better.” Finn slid into the chair across from him, grabbing a slice and letting the heat warm his hands. The first bite hit him with a wave of relief he hadn’texpected. Maybe he had been more stressed than he wanted to admit.
Mr. Santos nodded toward the end of the table, where stacks of color-coded cards sat in neat piles. “See these? You need to set up ten little tables with two chairs each. Then make sure each table has ten of each color. Blue, purple, pink, gold, and green.”
Finn took another bite, chewing slowly as he looked at the cards. “What do the colors mean?”
“The blue ones are warm-up questions, the purple are personality questions, pink are flirty questions, gold are Daddy/boy dynamic questions, and green are compatibility questions.”
Finn nodded, though his mind drifted for a second, not to the cards, but to the man in the suit. He wondered if the guy liked flirty questions or if he’d roll his eyes at them. He wondered if he’d even show up.
“How do we mix it up?” Finn asked, trying to sound focused.
“Every fifteen minutes they switch tables,” Mr. Santos explained. “Everyone will be issued a number and listen for their number and table to be called. Then the boy picks a card and reads the question to the Daddy. When he answers, he picks a card and asks the boy.”
Finn imagined the room full of people, laughter bouncing off the walls, chairs scraping as everyone rotated. It actually sounded fun. Maybe even a little magical. And maybe if the universe wasn’t completely heartless, the man in the suit would be there. Maybe Finn would get lucky and end up across from him.
Once they finished eating, Finn helped Mr. Santos clean up. Then they set up the little tables, arranged the chairs, and Finn counted out all the cards while Mr. Santos double-checkedthe piles with the precision of someone who ran events like a military operation.
“Thanks, Finn,” Mr. Santos said when everything looked perfect.
“See you back here in thirty minutes.”
“I’ll be here.”
Finn smiled, but as he walked back toward the bar area, his heart beat a little faster.
Please still be there.Please don’t be talking to someone else.
He wasn’t sure if the universe listened to boys like him, but he hoped just this once it might. Finn headed back toward the bar with a little bounce in his step, the kind that came from imagining the man in the suit still standing there, maybe even looking around like he’d noticed Finn was missing. It was stupid; he knew that, but he let himself hope anyway.
But when he stepped into the bar area, the spot where the man had been was empty. Completely empty. No suit, no dark hair, no quiet confidence leaning against the counter. Just a couple of guys laughing over cocktails and someone ordering a rainbow margarita.
Finn slipped into that practiced smile he used when he wasn’t actually present.
Of course he’s gone. Why would he still be here waiting for you?
He tried not to let the thought sting too much. He lingered for a second, scanning the room as if maybe the man had just moved to another corner. Nothing. No trace of him. The bartender gave Finn a friendly nod, but that wasn’t what he wanted.
“Okay,” Finn muttered under his breath. “Fine. Whatever.”
He straightened his rainbow belt, took a breath, and decided he would not linger around the bar like a forgotten drink waiting for someone to notice it. He had a party to go to soon and maybe, if the universe wasn’t completely cruel, the man in the suit would show up there.
Finn headed down the hallway toward his room. The train hummed beneath his feet, the lights flickering softly along the corridor. When he reached his door, he slipped inside and let out a long exhale.
His room was small but cozy, with a mirror that always made him look a little flushed. He kicked off his boots and splashed water on his face. Then he studied his reflection.
“Freshen up,” he told himself. “Look cute. Look confident. Look like someone a man in a suit would want to talk to.”
He ran his fingers through his blond hair, adjusted his rainbow earrings, and smoothed his shirt. The nerves in his stomach fluttered again, but this time it was more like excitement than disappointment. If the man in the suit was meant to cross his path again, he would. And if not, well, Finn would not show up to the Meet-a-Daddy Party looking anything less than adorable.
He grabbed his bracelets, tightened them on his wrist, and headed back out, ready for whatever the night threw at him.
Chapter Eight
Maurice
