I watched as Evan’s jaw dropped to the floor. There was nothing he could do to stop me; I owned this place now.

“What are you going to do to this place?” He asked, his eyebrows coming together in concern. I could tell that he cared a lot about this restaurant; it had some sort of Stockholm Syndrome hold on him.

“I’m going to sell it to one of my friends. He takes small restaurants like this in the Detroit area and turns them around.” I explained.

“But… but what about the staff? Will they be able to keep their jobs?”

I was suspicious for a moment. Was there someone he was concerned about working there? Was there another man he was trying to protect? I took a quick glance around at the waitstaff in the room, and was relieved to find that not one of them was even remotely attractive.

He saw my suspicion and leaned in, explaining softly, “I’m worried about my manager. She’s been good to me, letting me work here and keeping my identity secret. She’s good people. Please let her keep her job?” He begged.

“For you?” I asked, “Of course. But you can’t work here anymore.” I commanded, laying my ground rules.

He brightened, but looked conflicted.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, wanting to make all of his troubles vanish into thin air.

He sighed and said, “I don’t know… if you’re going to pay me.”

I blinked, confused. “What do you mean? Of course I’ll pay you! Do you think I’m not able to do so?” I asked, feeling the anger, the accusation of incompetence getting to me.

“No! Nothing like that.” He clarified, putting his hands up. “I just… I dunno…”

“You don’t trust me,” I deduced. I felt calmer as my rage was smothered by understanding.

He hung his head, looking down, those dark eyelashes flickering around. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, I trust you more than anyone.”

It felt like my soul had been given sustenance at those words.

Evan continued, “I just… haven’t seen any money yet, and I don’t know… I have a lot on the line, you know?”

I could see the fear in his eyes. He was scared, that was all.

“Well, I can give you an advance.” I said, “As per the contract, I thought I had to wait until the end of the week to pay you. But you can have this now. Here’s for six sessions: The two we’ve already done, and the four I’m planning on for the rest of this week.” I calculated, reaching into my pocket for my wallet.

I pulled out a few hundreds and some twenties, counting it out to $1,080, then passed it subtly across the bar to him.

He looked left, and right, and leaned in, whispering, “That’s too much money! I’ve only worked for you for about two hours total, max!”

“I plan to work you even harder this week,” I winked, pushing the stack of cash closer to him. “Consider it an advance. Oh, and…” I pulled out five more 100 dollar bills, “Here’s a signing bonus. Now will you please come work for me and get the hell out of this place?”

I watched conflict stir behind his eyes as his hand slithered across the bar and took the money.

“This is a month and a half of rent for me,” He said, “This feels too good to be true.”

“You feel too good to be true,” I uttered, feeling the vulnerability leak out of my voice.

“Cheesy.” He said, pretending not to be affected by the compliment.

I smiled.

Then there was a huge ruckus and commotion at the table of women near the bar. They were all looking and pointing at Evan, shouting, happily sucking down their second round of drinks.

“Can I help you ladies with something?” I asked them loudly.

“He’s Evan White, and why the fuck isn’t he serving us?!” The middle aged woman shouted. “We paid to come into this shitty little joint so we could have him bring us our food and take care of us!”

Silence fell over the restaurant as the other guests tuned in.

The manager came storming out of the back to see what was going on, but she was enveloped in the silence too. All eyes were on me.

“Ma’am I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” I said calmly, pressing into her with an icy stare.

“And who the fuck do you think you are?” she shouted, her jowls quaking. She wasn’t used to being told what to do.

Before I could answer, Evan cut me off.

“He’s my boyfriend.” He announced with a proud smile.

Jaws around us dropped, including mine. I glanced at him, and he was looking at me. My heart swelled with joy, a joy I had long since abandoned.

“That’s right, I’m his boyfriend,” I confirmed, improvising. I would have to talk to him about this later, to make sure this was real.

It was too good to be true.

“And I’m also the owner of this restaurant. Please politely take your business elsewhere.” I said, a firmness in my voice that was unfamiliar to me.

But being next to Evan, hearing him choose me like that in front of all of these people, made me feel strong. It made me feel invincible.

“Kindly leave.” I commanded again, this time in a more threatening tone.

The middle aged woman’s mouth was agape. She couldn’t believe she was bossed around by someone else.

But here we were, and I was establishing my dominance over this place, and over Evan.

With an indignant “hmph!” she closed her mouth, and all of the ladies at the table got up and gathered their things. The older woman rose up, gathered her purse, shrugged on her coat, and walked out the door without paying. Her flock followed her obediently like a trail of ducklings.

A brunette towards the end of the line still blew Evan a kiss on her way out.

I glanced over to gauge his reaction, but he was looking at me.

That’s when I knew that Evan was mine; all mine.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” I said, taking his hand.

“Wait, one more thing.” He said, pulling his hand away from mine.

I watched as he walked up to the manager in the back; I forgot her name. But they had a few seconds of conversation, and she was smiling. That crinkly-eyed, full-faced smile that only mothers seemed to have.

And suddenly I understood.

But I watched him interact with his manager, and knew in my heart that she had some sort of surrogate mother relationship with him. I had no need to worry, and I swore to myself right then and there that I’d do everything in my power for her to keep her job. When I sold the restaurant to my buddy, that would be a stipulation of the contract.

I was driven by a need to protect Evan and everyone that was important to him. I wanted to make all of his problems go away, and take care of his family too. Maybe I was rushing into things too fast, but dammit, that’s how I felt.

Evan came back over to me, tears sparkling at the corners of his eyes.

“Ready?” I asked, taking his hand in mine. I had to mentally pinch myself to remind myself that this was real.

This beautiful man, had just proclaimed in front of his workplace that he was mine.

“Ready.” He said, and together we pushed the door open and went out into the Michigan winter. Though, today, it didn’t seem so cold and gray. It seemed more like a snow globe; bright and welcoming. And as long as I was with Evan inside of this ideal world, everything was perfect.

Walking hand-in-hand, we crunched through the snow to the parking lot.

Among all of the Buicks and Toyotas and Mazdas in the parking lot, my car stuck out as the lone sexy red Tesla. As we approached, it lit up and unlocked.

“That’s yours?” He asked incredulously, “Dude, how much money are you making? You have a Tesla and you can buy a restaurant just because you feel like it?”

Chuckling, I opened the door for him, and he got inside. Then I walked around and got in the driver’s seat. When I started the engine, I explained. “Business is the only way you make money in this country. If you want to work for someone else, go for it, but you’ll be working for peanuts.” I said.

That was one of the lessons I took away from Kyle.

“But what if you enjoy working for someone else?” He asked.

That was what I loved about him—er, liked about him. He was always challenging me.

“If you enjoy working for someone else?” I restated, the thought completely foreign to me. It had been nailed in my head since business school that you don’t work for someone else unless they’re your buyers.

“I guess if it makes you happy.” I offered diplomatically, though privately, I still clung to my belief. There was no way I could ever be happy in a regular job, that was for sure.

Then I thought back to the look of love on Evan’s face when he’d hugged his manager. He cared about family; that was what he wanted out of this waiter job. Money was secondary to him.

As I pulled out, I glanced over at the beautiful stranger in my passenger seat. He was peacefully staring out the window. Something had shifted and I was beginning to see him in a whole new light. I cared about money, sure, but maybe there was more to life; something I was seeking besides money and fame and notoriety, that was much more fulfilling.

Sure, I’d had it beaten into my head that people were the most important, but it was so easy to stick with what I knew: people disappoint you. They let you down. And most of all, you disappoint them.

Cash was cold and hard. Cash was emotionless. Fame was emotionless. But maybe I needed something more. Maybe Evan could show me what that was.

Then he snapped me out of my reverie when he turned to me and asked, “Okay boss, where are we headed now?”

“It’s time to go to work.” I said, and pointed the car down the highway toward Ann Arbor.