“I didn’t recognize you without a rock in your hand,” Mason teased as Tammy handed him his change. They’d been chatting ever since Tammy gave his breakfast order to the kitchen, and they’d only just remembered to process his payment. They were still scrambling from the breakfast rush. Mason knew he’d be a while waiting.

It seemed Tammy was a lot more pleasant at work than in a parking lot trying to rescue a cat.

“How’s Socket doing? She used to that guy crashing on your couch yet?” Tammy asked.

Mason felt the heat rise in his cheeks and hoped he wasn’t blushing. “Yeah, I would’ve driven right past Rhys if not for our talk the other day. It was perfect timing.”

“Good thing I almost trashed your car then,” she pointed out, picking up a bottle of purple cleaning spray and a wad of paper towels. She sprayed a sign up on the wall, advertising their roasted potatoes for Christmas.

“Yeah, Rhys has just had a couple tough breaks. I’m helping him out.” Mason thought about Rhys’s life the past few months. Grandpa passed away, graduated college, car broken down on road trip, trapped in an alien town. Mason would be a jerk not to offer his couch.

“I also heard that he’s good looking,” Tammy let drop.

“Oh, he’s just graduated college,” Mason said. “Bit old for a high school girl, I’m afraid.”

He wondered if he should also mention Rhys being gay. It seemed like nobody else’s business, and he didn’t want to out him. He’d overheard guys mentioning that as a bad thing to do at Lift. Especially after he was so nervous staying in a place like Texas. He figured the legal age limit should be enough to dissuade Tammy’s affections.

“I was thinking of someone else.” Tammy looked Mason up and down. He cocked an eyebrow in confusion. Maybe she meant one of the chefs here?

“Order up!”

Tammy turned to the kitchen, picking up a to-go bag and handing it to Mason. He would have to investigate who was a good match for Rhys later.

“Y’all have a good day now,” Tammy said with a knowing grin.

“Uh, sure, you too,” Mason said, still distracted by who Tammy had in mind for Rhys. He swiftly exited the restaurant, the concrete in the parking lot already radiating heat from the sun.

He jumped into the front seat of his tow truck, putting on his seat belt first thing. If the Marines had taught him anything, it was safety first. He peeled the foil off of his bacon deluxe wrap, taking a big bite and chewing slowly. He ate a lot of meals in his truck, an excuse to escape Tristan for a spell.

As he ate, his mind idly wondered what he and Rhys would eat for dinner tonight. He hadn’t really shared a meal since he lived with his family, always getting his own portions in the Marines, and then living on a diet of protein blasts and microwave meals while he ran his own business.

After finishing his lunch, he opened his phone, double-checking his emails. He wasn’t too sure what atmosphere he’d be going back to at the shop, whether Tristan would still be sulking and in a mood.

Mason suddenly snapped to, realizing how absurd it was to plan his actions around the wild tantrums of his coworker.

Employee, Mason corrected himself internally as he pulled out of the Rocket parking lot. He and Tristan weren’t in the trenches together. Tristan worked for Mason. Today was a turning point, he would have to start enforcing that more.

It took a good ten minutes longer to get back to the store than he would have liked, the traffic seemingly getting denser the closer he got to his body shop. Mason always found it funny how easily traffic could be affected. One person breaks too sharply on 2^nd Street, the ripple causing a jam on 14^th.

As Mason got closer to his workplace, he discovered his shop was the cause of the ripple. Every single car that drove past was slowing down to look at the outside.

Mason was still half a block away and looked to the skies checking for smoke. None, it looked like Tristan hadn’t set another car engine on fire.

As Mason’s Body Shop came into view, he couldn’t help but gasp. He pulled up his tow truck, cut the engine, and leaped out from the car, taking in his surroundings.

The pile of tires was gone. Instead there was a big sheet on the ground covered in random paint streaks. There were now two small pyramids of tires each side of the garage entrance, flowers proudly over spilling out the top of the tires. Mason walked closer, seeing that each tire was packed with dirt, the tires now used like pots for the plants.

But most impressive to Mason were the hanging tires on either side of the sign for Mason’s Body Shop. The tires were being used as hanging baskets, beautiful flowers spilling over the rim, hanging down on either side of the sign.

Rhys was at the top of a ladder, adjusting the last tire. He had his headphones in, and Mason could see random flecks of dirt and debris on his Tallahassee T-shirt. He had turned the outside of his shop into the most colorful extravaganza Mason had ever seen.

Rhys hopped down the ladder, still looking up at his tire hanging basket. As he got to the bottom, he turned around, suddenly seeing Mason and yelping, jumping on the spot. He ripped out his headphones, looking at Mason anxiously.

“Oh, you’re home. Good.” Rhys stood next to Mason, whose mouth was still open in awe. “This is your Christmas present! I, err, thought it could help with the business,” he began to explain. Before he went any further, Mason grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in for a big hug. He could feel Rhys’s body relax under him as he nuzzled into his embrace.

“I never thought this place could look so good!” Mason said, not daring to let go of Rhys. After a few seconds, Mason felt his own body relaxing. He idly wondered how long it had been since he’d had genuine human contact like that. He broke away, looking at his new storefront.

“Did you, I was—” Rhys stammered. “I might have gone a bit overboard. I thought I’d just do the one pyramid, but then I got into the zone, and I…” He trailed off, looking up sheepishly at Mason.

“Oh gosh, you’ve worked so hard!” Mason walked up to one of the pyramids. Three at the base, two in the middle, then the masterpiece on the top. Each tire took up about half the space of the one beneath, the various flowery plants overflowing.

“You did all this in what, a few hours?” Mason was amazed.

Rhys nervously grinned again. Mason couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t take more pride in this. It looked so good.

“Is this… what gave you the idea?” Mason wondered, turning back around to face Rhys.

“I was thinking about your brand as a mechanic and what makes you special,” Rhys explained. “And what made you special to me. You’re people friendly.”

“You have to be friendly to get a business going,” Mason said dismissively. He knew his customer services skills were good. Not exceptional, but good enough.

“No, man, you’re more friendly than most,” Rhys insisted. “And for some people, going to a mechanic is scary. You have no idea how a car works. They explain the problem using unintelligible jargons terms. And there’s the reputation of mechanics charging you extra when there’s nothing wrong.”

“I would never do that,” Mason said.

“Of course not!” Rhys agreed quickly, suddenly more confident in what he was saying. “And now your brand reflects that. It says it’s colorful and friendly. The customer journey starts from the outside, and your shop looks more colorful than any other garage in town.”

“It looks great!” Mason couldn’t think of any other way to describe his new shop front.

“Speaking of, apparently LGBT-friendly businesses are on the rise in Hidden Creek,” Rhys continued with his explanation. “You didn’t mention your gym was queer friendly.”

“Well, yeah. Shouldn’t every business be queer friendly?” Mason didn’t want to deny his services to anyone for any superficial reason.

“They should be,” Rhys agreed. “But sometimes as a gay man, it can be scary to go into those kinds of hypermasculine environments. There’s already a proven market in Hidden Creek that caters to the queer community. A gay bar, LGBT center. A gay-friendly gym. Now a queer-friendly garage. With pretty flowers, you can tap into that market. But the best part is — it’s just flowers. That’s accessible to everyone! Your new brand caters to an underserviced community, but is still marketable to the general public,” Rhys finished his excited explanation, turning to face Mason.

“I got most of that, but I think you lost me at the end there,” Mason confessed. Rhys frowned, clearly thinking it through for a couple of seconds.

“Yogurt! Who is yogurt always advertised toward?” Rhys asked.

“Women, for some reason.” Mason had never really understood why, since anyone could enjoy yogurt.

“Right,” Rhys agreed, “but that doesn’t stop other people from eating yogurt, does it? That’s what this brand is like. For the queer community, but everyone else can enjoy.”

Mason nodded, a grin creeping across his face. He already had good word of mouth after helping out the Williamson family. Now was the perfect time to jump off from that good press.

At that moment, Tristan wandered out from the shop, stretching out into a yawn.

“Tristan, were you sleeping on the job?” Mason glared at his employee. He wouldn’t put it past him.

“Of cooooooourse not.” Tristan yawned his reply before rubbing his eyes. He then looked out into the street, frowning. Mason followed his gaze to see a child in the backseat of a passing car, leaning out the window to take a picture.

Tristan turned back around to face the store, balking in surprise at the new shop front. A few seconds later, he burst out laughing.

“Err, was not expecting that,” Mason said, sharing a glance of confusion with Rhys. Tristan quickly calmed his bout of giggles.

“Did RuPaul give us a makeover? What the fuck is happening?” Tristan strolled up to one of the flower pyramids, giving one of the tires a nudge with his foot.

“Rhys did, actually,” Mason explained, taking a step closer to his temporary roommate. “It’s part of our new brand.”

“But I’m not gay, and you’re not gay,” Tristan told Mason, looking up at the hanging basket tires by the sign.

“But now we’re queer friendly,” Mason affirmed.

“There was nothing stopping the queers from coming here anyway. Why we gotta make an exception?”

“It’s an untapped market,” Mason repeated Rhys’s words.

“And it’s a proven one,” Rhys bravely chipped in. “The pink dollar and all that.”

Tristan glared at Rhys. “How come he gets to hang up all these girly flowers, but I’m not allowed to decorate the inside?” Tristan complained.

“Because hanging up posters of naked women is not decorating.” Mason was astounded he had to explain this to Tristan. Again.

“But I like naked women. I don’t like flowers. Why do you get to decide—”

“Because I’m the business owner, operator, and manager. That’s why,” Mason told him firmly. “We’re being inclusive of all types of customers, not just the ones sad enough to gape at naked women all day long.”

Tristan glared up at Mason, his nostrils flaring. Mason wondered if he was trying to look intimidating. It wasn’t succeeding.

After a moment, Tristan skulked back into the garage, muttering under his breath.

“I didn’t mean to cause this much trouble,” Rhys apologized.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Mason looked at his new shop front once more. “This is literally the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“I can take them down. This was stupid. I shouldn’t have—” Rhys was already setting the ladder back up. Mason checked his hands were clean before gently resting them on Rhys’s shoulders.

“Don’t you dare.” Once again Mason could feel Rhys’s shoulders relaxing under him. Feeling Rhys’s body react to his touch made Mason’s stomach squirm again. He pushed the thoughts aside, choosing his words carefully. “This is exactly the kind of boost my business needs. ‘The garage with flowers on the outside.’ That is brilliant branding.” Mason had learned a bit about branding during his community college course but would never think to do anything like this in a million years.

Rhys turned around to face Mason, who was still resting his hands on their shoulders.

“You’re not just saying that to be nice?” Rhys queried.

“I’ll always be honest with you.” Mason wasn’t too sure if that was the appropriate thing to say. But it was how he felt.

“I appreciate that. And same, with the honesty,” Rhys affirmed.

“Oh, what if we printed out some pamphlets, with some photos of the new front? We could put them in the gay bar and the center and the gym! Advertise to the market, right?” Mason wondered out loud. “There’s also apparently some guy who’s advertising businesses online or something. I’ll call Doris for details.”

“Dude, that’s a brilliant idea!” Rhys said, the glint of excitement in his eyes.

Mason took his arms off Rhys’s shoulders as they headed back inside. Rhys had barely been in his life twenty-four hours and already improved it tenfold. He just wished they could spend more than eleven days together.