Page 50 of French 75
“Right.” I gulp and chuckle awkwardly. “Anyway, Sadie—you don’t know her, but she’s really cool—wants to throw the kids a prom. You know, prom is?—”
“I know what prom is,” he says, growing impatient. “This is what’s keeping me from my work?”
You mean your Sudoku?
“Give me money,” I blurt out, my jaw dropping immediately after. If I ever thought Davis was a robot, the look of surprise on his face could prove me wrong. I refuse to backtrack, though. It took me a bit to get here, and there aren’t any take-backs. I clear my throat and take a step forward. “I mean, could you please consider funding the prom?”
“Okay.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“Sure,” he says with an easy shrug. Reaching into his desk drawer, he tosses something onto his desk before continuing with his Sudoku. “Just write a number, and I’ll sign it.”
“A-Are you serious?” I stutter, shaking my head in disbelief. I walk up to his desk and realize that it’s his checkbook he threwout so willy-nilly. Suddenly, there are tears welling in my eyes. “Davis, thank you so much.”
He raises an absentminded hand and sighs. “Believe it or not, some peopledocare about runaway kids. Go ahead. Write a number.”
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I scramble to fill in the check. Deciding that—fuck it—I might as well round up, I hand it to him with my bottom lip trapped between my teeth. I think that maybe the number is too high, but he signs it without even batting an eye. With the check in my trembling hand, I try my best not to cry. “The kids are gonna be really happy.”
“Sure,” he mutters, brow furrowing as he erases a number from his Sudoku. When he realizes I’m still here, he cocks his head. “Anything else?”
“Nope,” I say happily, then spin on my heels. “Thank you! You’re the best boss ever!”
“Actually, Skylar. Hold on for a minute.”
I turn and raise an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“I know about your little”—he waves his hands, as if to come up with the term—“list. Something about building a perfect boyfriend?”
My cheeks flush. “How did you hear about that?”
“It’s my club. You think I don’t know everything that goes on here?” He snorts and shakes his head. “Let’s start with the fact that my employees seem to think it’s a free fuck-fest around here.”
“I’ve never had sex here, boss,” I state with some jealousy. Huh? Maybe I’ll need to talk to Cassius about that.
“Don’t get any ideas, Skylar.”
Or maybe not.
“You told Max, who told Rhys, who told Everest, who told his brother, who told his husband, who told Butch, who then told me.”
“Huh?”
“Are you surprised?” he asks, almost as if he’s covering up a chuckle.
I guess I’m not? We’re a family, after all, and families gossip. Plus, I had a feeling Max couldn’t keep a secret for shit, so it’s really on me for all this getting out. Not that I care. But I also don’t understand why Davis does. “Um, am I not allowed to…?”
“Add this to your list: Must hold a candle to the darkest flame.”
Must what?
Not wanting to argue with him, or ask what the ever-living fuckthatmeans, I nod rapidly. “Will do, boss. Anything else?”
He shakes his head and returns to his game, but just before I leave, I hear him clear his throat rather sheepishly. “Tell our newest bartender, who can’t actually bartend that, yes, I’d like some pie now.”
“Okaaayyyyy,” I drawl, literally scratching my head. Why is it that every time I talk to Davis, I wind up more confused than anything else? Regardless, I skip my way out of his office happily. I head down the stairs, but before I can go find Max and tell him about Davis’s pie, Cassius is on me.
“How’d it go?” he asks, a bit of nervous tension in his shoulders as he flicks his eyes to the glass window upstairs. “Everything alright?”
