Chapter Twenty-Three

Callum

 

"If you don't stop fiddling with your tie I'm going to choke you with it," I grumbled.

Gray looked startled for a moment and let his hands drop back to his lap. But soon enough, they started wandering back up to the solid gray necktie that I loaned him, and started twisting the knot again.

I sighed and leaned back in the booth. "Dude, you're going to do fine," I finally said.

Gray was looking off into the middle distance like he didn't hear me. "It's weird," he said carefully, like he was forming the words at the same time as the thought. "You start to buy into the whole, 'your worth is tied up with your job’ bullshit. I mean, it's only been two months, but look, I couldn't pay rent, I had to start depending on you..."

"Stop it, stop right there." I held up my hand. "You're fine. And any company would be lucky to have you."

Gray shot me a withering glance. "Well, we both know that's a lie."

"Right. I'm only trying to get you to stop talking about your feelings," I said. "You're a damned old woman sometimes."

Gray snorted, but that faraway look in his eyes was gone and that was all that mattered. His father had spent his whole childhood telling him he was a piece of shit so I knew that voice was in his head. The worst thing was when he started to listen to it. "Touché, you ornery bastard," Gray laughed. "I'll stop talking and save it for my journal."

"With the fuzzy pink cover."

"Oh that one's full of my poetry already," he grinned. "This new one has unicorns on it."

I chuckled and leaned forward, glancing over the menu again before closing it. We were back to giving each other shit, so that was all fine and normal. What wasn't normal was the thing we were strenuously avoiding talking about.

Harper.

I wasn't about to bring that whole thing up now, though. Not right before he had his interview. He'd been prepping for it for weeks now, making me quiz him on questions like what were his biggest strengths, and his biggest weaknesses, all that corporate bullshit. It was the kind of stuff that made me so glad I owned my own business and didn't have to deal with that. Yeah sure, I had a problem client sometimes, but it was my prerogative whether or not I got to fire them.

I couldn't imagine Gray working in an office. He'd always been more of a hands-on guy, and he genuinely loved his job at Melton's. It wasn't his fault that the old man finally closed up shop after all those years, just when Gray was starting to get some skills under his belt.

It was always hard to find work around here. Especially stuff that wasn't seasonal.  I thought he'd end up going back to working in his father's farm there for a minute, but then he'd run into Carla Claymore from the Sweet Shoppe and she'd mentioned needing someone to help her with advertising.  It was a weirdly good fit for him, not only because he could eat his weight in cake and not gain an ounce, but also because, as unpolished as he was, he was damn good at making you like him. I was proud of him for landing the interview. Maybe the dude was finally growing up.

Fat chance, I thought as I looked down and saw that he was methodically scrunching up the wrapper of his straw and dropping water on it so it looked like a winding snake.

"More coffee, guys?"

I looked up to see Charlie, the hostess here at Bob and Lou's. The bags under her eyes were so dark she looked like she'd been bruised. "Nah, we're good," I told her. "Thanks sweetheart," I said, resolving to leave an extra twenty in her tip.

"How's the baby?" Gray piped up.

I shook my head, feeling like an asshole. I'd looked at her and thought she looked tired. But Gray made the leap that it probably had something to do with the four-month old she was raising alone. Sometimes I'm a dense motherfucker.

"He's cute when he sleeps," Charlie sighed, reaching over to pour more coffee into my cup, even though I hadn't asked for it. "When he sleeps."

"How old is he? Four months right?"

She nodded tiredly.

"I hear that's the worst time for sleep, they regress or something like that, I don't know. It'll get better, I swear."

Charlie looked at Gray and sort of blinked at him like he'd suddenly materialized in front of her. "Thanks," she said. "Everyone tells me that it's only going to get worse."

"You can't believe that. That's the kind of thinking that leads you to dark places," he said emphatically.

"Yeah, I've been there," Charlie muttered and then looked up startled, and rushed off without saying goodbye.

"That chick has been dealt a rough hand," Gray declared.

I looked down at my plate. Here he'd been dealt a pretty rough hand himself, but he was concerned with someone else. That was why doing things like taking him in, driving him around, and taking him out for breakfast before his big interview were all easy for me to do.

I took another sip of my coffee and then looked up at the front entrance, where there was some sort of commotion going on. A woman bustled her way in, taking up too much room with a big carry-on suitcase.

"Harper?" I barked out, and splashed coffee right into my lap. Gray whipped around, following my gaze. "What the fuck?"

We both leaped to our feet and rushed to her. She had her back to us and was ordering at the to-go counter. Gray reached her first.

"Is that a suitcase?" he said by way of hello.

Harper whipped around, looking like a trapped animal. And suddenly I realized something. "Were you really going to leave without saying goodbye?" I said, heart sinking.

She bit her lip, and looked around guiltily. She dropped her voice. "Guys. Please..."

"Please what? Are you on your way to the airport, right now?" What's with the suitcase?" Gray said, still fixated on the giant piece of luggage on the floor.

She sighed. "Yeah, I have to go to the airport."

"So you were going to leave without saying goodbye," I realized.

She looked up and blinked, her eyes glimmering. "It was just, it was fun, it was great, it was just you know a one night stand type of thing. You got your lives, I've got mine, and I have to get back..."

"You're just trying to convince yourself that," Gray growled.

I stepped forward. "We're not just some guys, Harper. I thought you knew that.

Her eyes spilled over and suddenly two tears tracked down her cheeks. "I knew that. I do know that," she said, and she sounded like she was choking on the words. "That's why I have to go."

"When is your flight?" Gray interjected.

"I fly out at 3:20, but it's a two-hour drive and I have to get through security and all that..." she babbled.

Gray looked at me. "Let us drive you up there," he said

I looked at him startled. "What about your interview?" I hissed.

Gray looked at me, looked at Harper, then back at me again. "This more important," he finally said.