Page 44 of Seeing Grayscale

It’s…pathetic.

Slumping into my office chair, I click on my computer, reviewing invoices that need my sign-off, when my phone vibrates.

The sad organ in my chest rumbles to life, bouncing around like the Energizer Bunny. I snatch the phone off my desk, unlock it, and blow out a sigh of relief. I wasn’t ready to deal with Brent, anyway.

Gray: Phone is back on.

Gray: Are you hung over?

I smile at his texts. Just as I’m about to reply, another comes through.

Gray: And…I’m safe.

He isn’t, not really, but this is his choice. One I’ve wanted to rip away with every day that passes so he won’t be subjected to whatever horrors left him bloody and broken by a dumpster.

Have you gotten anything to eat yet?

Also, yes, unfortunately. Remind me never to drink whiskey.

Gray: No food yet. WOrKing on it.

Gray: Workong

Gray: WORKING

I chuckle and refrain from responding with: LOL.

The offer still stands. It’s simple to set up a cash app and place an order.

Gray: That’s not what this is.

It doesn’t mean I won’t still try.

Fuck.

I'm giving myself away.

Just as I’m about to backtrack, my office phone rings. Stifling a growl, I answer, “Kade speaking.”

“Your eleven o'clock appointment is here.”

“Send Mr. Reyes up, please; thanks, Alex.”

“Of course,” my assistant chirps and hangs up.

Knowing I don’t have much time before the client is in my office, I check the new text.

Gray: One of these days, I might say yes.

I’ve been sorely tempted all day to grab a hotel instead of coming back to my house.

Brent is on duty tonight, and as I pull into the gate entry, I try my best to appear nonchalant. He knew what this was from the start. I come to a stop, fully expecting him to approach me, but he doesn’t. From inside the guard shack, I spot him glancing briefly at my car, then pressing the button to raise the armbar.

Guilt over ending it through a text makes me stay put. After a few beats, he gets up, opens the sliding door, and sticks his head out. “Problem, Mr. Kade?”

Nodding my head in the universal gesture for: come over here, I let the engine idle while he walks to the driver’s side. “I meant to tell you in person. That text was…impersonal, and I apologize.”

Brent is attractive and young and shouldn’t be limited in how he is with me. “What will it take?” he asks, catching me by surprise.

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