“Yeah? By whom? Delivery guy is not coming in until tomorrow.”
He shrugged. “He didn’t give his name, but he looks quite desperate to have you.”
I closed the cooler and pointed at Phillip. “I swear, man, if this is one of your pranks, I’m taking your wife out, and you know she won’t say no.”
He finally let out the laugh he’d been struggling to keep in. “While you’re at it, why don’t you do me a solid and take the kids too?”
I shook my head at him, only slightly annoyed at his goofing. His wife would be up for a night out, but it wouldn’t lead to extra entertainment. Noelle had been on his case a lot lately for her husband to quit the café for one day and take her out. She’d love to be taken out by just about anyone, but her heart and body always belonged to her husband.
“Take that as a hint, dickhead,” I told him as I headed for the door. “Noelle called me earlier today, threatening to bring the kids down here if you don’t take a day off to spend with her and the kids.”
“I’ll take a day off when you do.”
“I don’t have a family waiting on me to haul my ass home, Phillip.”
“Which is just tragic, Cal. Why don’t you give that young man a chance? He’s been here almost every day for a month now, crushing on you. You should be grateful someone so young and good-looking wants to put up with your crabbiness.”
I scowled at him, not particularly wanting to discuss the young man I’d overheard his driver addressing as Master Ashton on one of their frequent visits. Master Ashton? There was nothing dominant about the boy. He practically had begged to be my submissive the first time we met. The look in his eyes, his body language…it was all there.
Fuck. If he was so bold on the first night I’d laid eyes on him, I didn’t want to think about what he’d do if I ever gave in to him.
Since the first night we met, his flirting had grown with every day he stopped by the café. I should’ve put a stop to it already. The boy didn’t know when he’d had too much to drink, and I didn’t want that complication in my life. Still, his persistence was a bit endearing. If you were into that sort of thing, which I wasn’t.
“There’s a stupid suggestion if ever I heard one. I have two words for you, Phil—”
“I know. I know,” he said before I could finish. “Mario Webber.”
“Exactly. Need I say more?”
The stupid grin on his face turned into a frown. “No, you don’t have to, but I can. It’s been two years, Callum. Two fucking years.”
“There’s not enough time in the world to have me make the same mistake.”
With that said, I exited the kitchen and entered the main area behind the counter. Usually, things were slow at this time of the afternoon, and I could replenish our supplies and wipe down the tables for our next wave of customers with the late-evening crowd.
Phillip and I rotated the duty at the cash register so we didn’t have to stay in one spot all day. By my estimate, though, we might have to hire at least a part-time worker to help us out soon. Business was going even better than we’d anticipated when we came up with this joint venture.
“Hey, Mr. Callum.”
That voice. I’d know it anywhere after listening to it order the same cup of coffee, our Libertine, almost every day. I knew his routine like clockwork. On Monday, he stopped by at ten for almost an hour, books spread out on whatever table he occupied as he tried to make up for the weekend of partying.
I usually got a break from him on Tuesday, but he was always back on Wednesday at the same time as Monday. Sometimes he brought friends with him and pretended to study when what they really did was gossip. And on Friday and Saturday night, he usually staggered in after too much partying, his disapproving driver with him.
One would’ve thought that with knowing his routine so well, I would’ve been better at avoiding him. All I needed to do was switch my cash register time with Phillip whenever he was due in.
But that meant I’d miss seeing what outrageously revealing and tight outfit he had on that day or the way his eyes lit up when he caught his first glimpse of me over the counter. Or the way he insisted I doodled little hearts on his coffee cup. Every single time. He asked for four hearts, and I gave him five. I had no idea why. Or maybe I did know but refused to face the truth.
I was the picture of calm as I turned and greeted the young man who leaned against the counter, staring back at me with wide eyes and an even wider smile. Inside, I groaned, even though I was positive he couldn’t see anything else but the stoic man who rebuffed and spurned every attempt of his to get me to take him to bed. To permit him to call me Daddy.
Never again.
“Hi, yourself, kid.” I always called him kid as a barrier between us to remind him of how much younger than me he was. Damn if it worked, though. It seemed to have the opposite effect on him.
Today he looked exceptional, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was well dressed as usual. Today he made tweed look good. Fashionably skinny tweed pants hugged his ass, which I could see clearly from the way he leaned against the counter. His tight-fitting shirt had several buttons undone, showing off his hairless chest.
Something about him was different, though. His eyes gleamed more than usual, his cheeks were flushed, even in this cooler weather, and he shifted from foot to foot restlessly.
I frowned at him, instantly thinking the worst. Was he high? The rate at which he drank, I wouldn’t be surprised to find he enjoyed shooting up. The very thought left my mouth bitter and dry.
“Guess what today is?” he asked.
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “The day you finally decide to leave me alone?”
He laughed. “No, silly. I’m this many.” He flashed me all ten fingers twice, followed by his index finger.
“It’s your birthday?” So that was the reason he looked so excited. I almost sighed in relief.
“Yup.” He stared at me expectantly.
“Then coffee’s on the house.” I moved off to get the coffee he always ordered.
“Big plans today, huh?” I asked him as I made his coffee.
I liked mine black, but his coffee was mixed with coconut milk flavored with just a hint of vanilla and almond. He’d once whispered to me that coconut was one of his favorite flavors, all while licking his lips and giving me his dreamy eyes. Damn, he knew how to lay it on thick.
“Big plans tonight,” he said but didn’t elaborate.
And I didn’t bother to ask further. Seriously, the guy was none of my business. He was nothing but a regular customer at the coffee shop. Nothing more. His business kept me in business. If he wanted to mix drugs, drink himself into a stupor, and get fucked tonight, it was his problem, not mine. I’d endured my fair share, and it was high time I stayed away from all the drama.
I doodled the five hearts onto his coffee cup, this time scribbling a Happy Birthday message beneath, just above the coffee shop logo—two intertwined Cs perched on steam. I handed him the coffee cup, and he turned the container until he found the doodle.
I never thought he could light up even more than he already was. His smile, his personality, made him so likable that I never quite worked up the nerve to tell him to stay away from the coffee shop, which I should’ve done the second he’d made his intention toward me known.