Chapter Fourteen: Desmond
Desmond wasn’t a man who knew how to relax. Even on his vacations he was working, reading, or involved in some other way with money. Information was easy to gain access to whenever he wanted it. The stock market was always being reported on, and he could feel in the loop by buying a New York Times newspaper that was sold almost everywhere he went.
He knew Claire expected him to still be there when she got home from work, but her apartment seemed like a black box. He was somehow off the grid. She didn’t have cable, which shocked him, and he hadn’t brought any of his devices to hook up to her Wi-Fi. Sure, he had his cell phone, but the screen was too little to do anything meaningful, and he was in yesterday’s clothes. Which meant if he tried to go to work, he would most definitely be doing the walk of shame. Not that he minded it a bit. He was the boss; therefore, there was only so much the office gossip would do for him. But he didn’t want to leave her place too soon.
This was a big deal. She trusted him to be there and not go through her things or mess something up. Even though he had work to do, he wanted to relish in that a little longer.
So, he puttered around her apartment a while, checking what things were in her pantry and refrigerator before making himself some breakfast. Then he showered, enjoying her shampoo and the way his skin smelled like her for a moment. Then after all his procrastination, he finally drove to the office.
There were some extra suits there since he rarely used the office. After changing and ordering another coffee, he made a few calls to check in. They were the kind of calls that could be made from anywhere. If he was smart he would have made them from Claire’s couch, but he wasn’t, so he was in a glass box. To be fair, he had it designed that way so his employees could see a visual representation of the transparency in his company. He always wanted to be the kind of boss that didn’t have any secrets. Aside from the fact that he was a dragon. That kind of secret couldn’t be shared.
Salaries weren’t a secret. Business meetings were held at circle tables so no one ever felt like they were the head of the table or in charge, and he routinely checked in with his employees for suggestions and different themed parties. He did his best to be the kind of boss people wanted to work for.
After making his calls and checking on investments, he moved some money around then allowed himself some free time to browse the internet for any cool divination tools. He liked talking to Claire about something she enjoyed, especially when he could surprise her with something new he learned, or even better something she didn’t already know.
Desmond’s hands froze on the keyboard as he realized just how far gone he was. He didn’t just like Claire. No, this was more than that. He was falling for her.
His stomach clenched, and he stood to go home. He didn’t know what exactly he was going to do, but he couldn’t do it from work. In fact, he had enough people on staff to take care of anything that needed to be done today, and right now he needed to have a talk with his best friend.
“Hello?” Frank said into the phone as Desmond maneuvered through traffic.
“Hey. Are you busy?”
“That has to be a rhetorical question. You know that I am, Desmond. The question is, do you still want whatever you want.”
He did. People made time for the things that they wanted to make time for, and Desmond knew Frank always showed up for his friends. “Desmond?” Frank said. “What do you want?”
“To get drunk.”
“I’ll bring the cheese, and when I get there, you better tell me exactly what this is about.”
“You got it,” Desmond said, and hung up.
Frank was only minutes behind Desmond pulling into the driveway of his home. It was really a large apartment – two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a large enough living room to work out in and watch TV. It was what he needed in the city. His home was for flying and being alone out of town.
“So, what’s up?” Frank said, opening the containers of cheese. There were several and Desmond was grateful. He didn’t plan to exercise restraint tonight.
“Everything,” Desmond said, grabbing a handful of cheese and stuffing it into his mouth.
“Well, I’m just going to let you chew that,” he said and went to open a bottle of wine. “Where’s your bread?” he asked as he walked to the pantry since he already knew where everything was. He came to Desmond’s house enough times.
“I can’t believe how dumb I am,” Desmond said, already feeling the buzz of the cheese he had practically inhaled.
“Tell me about it,” Frank said, leaning back into the couch, watching Desmond eat more cheese.
“She is so pretty and nice…well, when she’s not snapping at people.”
“I assume we’re talking about Claire?” Frank said, pouring some wine into his glass.
“But that’s what I like about her,” Desmond said as he sighed and leaned back into the couch with his eyes closed. “She’s so snappy. Aggressive. Like a dragoness. I bet she would be an amazing dragon. It makes sense, you know? She acts like a dragoness because she’s fire-blooded. I should have known. Did you know?” Desmond asked, popping one eye open to stare at Frank.
“Yeah, I knew. Claire never said it was a secret, and I thought you knew, too. You probably just forgot.”
“Probably,” Desmond said, and shrugged while closing his other eye. “It doesn’t matter. She’s too good for me. She’s so good, you know? Just so smart, funny, and soft. Her skin is so soft,” he mumbled as he patted the couch’s arm. “Her hair smells so good, like wood burning. You know that fire smell? It’s just so…” He took a deep breath and shuddered. “I can’t even believe she likes me.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“Yes,” Desmond said, nodding so hard he almost fell off the couch.
“Why?” Frank asked as he helped him sit upright.
“Because I love her.”
Frank didn’t respond, and Desmond didn’t notice. He continued his drunken tirade after a beat of silence. “And how terrible is that? I can’t love someone who doesn’t love me back. Talk about awkward. I never meant to do that,” he said and slumped backward.
“All right, Des, time to sober you up,” Frank said, going to the kitchen for the bread and fruit he pulled out. “Eat this,” he said, forcing some bread into Desmond’s hand.
“But I’m not hungry.”
“Yes, you are. You haven’t had anything to eat today, I think. So, this bread will be a good choice.”
Desmond didn’t argue as he ate the bread and handfuls of fruit. Soon, his eyes opened, and he was able to focus enough to realize Frank was helping him off the couch.
“Where are we going?”
“To bed,” Frank said.
“I don’t want you in my bed,” Desmond said with squinted eyes, his words dangerously close to a threat.
“Don’t worry. I don’t want to sleep here anyway.”
“Then where are you going?”
“I’ll be going to see my wife soon. I just wanted to make sure you are taken care of,” he said, taking Desmond’s shoes off and pulling back the covers.
“That’s why you’re my best friend,” Desmond said, sliding into the bed. “I chose well. Nobody else has such a good best friend.”
“Thank you,” Frank said, turning slightly red.
“So, I’m going to bed?” Desmond asked, sounding like a child.
“You are,” Frank confirmed. “You need to sleep this off so we can talk tomorrow.”
“Why?” Desmond said as Frank walked to the door.
“Because getting drunk is not a mature response to figuring out you’re in love.”
Desmond sighed and fell back onto the covers. “I guess you’re right,” he said before falling asleep.