Page 4 of Midsummer Phoenixes
I wiped down our new and shiny coffee makers with a damp cloth. Earlier, I’d made a pot for Lindy, Dwayne, and myself, and the machines were a joy to use.
It was nine pm, and we were finally almost done with getting everything ready for the reopening.
Dwayne was still busy making a huge batch of Pride brownies. He’d declared that with the diner’s remodel, it was time to change it up and move on from the traditional rainbow cupcakes we served for the Pride Parade and have the brownies for the entirety of June.
I glanced over my shoulder over to the counter where the fire had been. Where I had burned and made everything burn with me. It was still a lot to accept as reality, but if I was being honest, Soyer was okay, and that was all that mattered.
“Kid,” Dwayne said, looking out from the passthrough. “We have a new server starting tomorrow.”
My face fell. “Right. For Jenny.”
He nodded. “Yeah. For now anyway. Told them you’d show them the ropes. They have service experience, but still might be good to keep an eye on them in case they need a little help. Told them you know where everything is and all the rest of it.”
I nodded. “Okay. I guess I do. Them?”
“Yeah, them.”
I accepted the pronoun choice though it made me curious to meet that new guy. Or gal. Colleague. I took another look around the diner, admiring the new flooring and counter, shiny blues and chrome everywhere. I’d made sure everything was ready, the menus lined up and the salt, pepper, and sugar shakers full, everything out and waiting for the morning shift.
A key clicked in the front lock and a moment later, the bell above the door twinkled.
“Call it a night,” Dwayne told me with a wink, then vanished back to get his kitchen set up the way he liked.
I turned. “Welcome to the Moonlight Diner.”
Soyer locked the door behind himself.
“You know, I think I missed hearing that.” He leaned on the counter and crooked a finger at me. “Weird. Seeing you here and not in your uniform.”
I bit the inside of my cheek as I walked toward him, said, “Sorry, boss.”
“Hmm. No. That won’t really do.” He lowered his voice. “Not here anyway.”
He looked me over, and in that moment, I understood what it meant to have someone undress you with their eyes.
“Technically, you are my boss though.”
“Technically, I am your boyfriend who happens to be the silent partner at the place where you work.” He leaned in closer. “It’s one thing if you call me boss when my cock is buried inside you, another when you do it here where there might be actual work or—worse—responsibilities involved. Makes me uncomfortable. I’ll say hi to Dwayne. You finish up here. I have dinner waiting at home.” He left me with reddened cheeks and walked along the counter and toward the back.
I waited until he was almost at the swing door, then said, “Yes, boss,” in what should have been barely loud enough for him to hear.
But Soyer’s hearing was acute, and he turned, dark eyes wanting to pull me in. A slow smile crept over his face before he headed through to the back.
I wasn’t always sure I read these things correctly—I often didn’t—but I liked him looking at me like that. Like I was his and special and desired.
With my cheeks still flushed, I petted the new coffee makers. “See you tomorrow.”
Turning off the lights in the Moonlight before the reopening felt special, meaningful. I was looking forward to my next shift.
CHAPTER 3
June 1
Soyer, after taking me to my place where my new uniform was, had promised he’d come to the diner a little bit earlier than usual today. He’d not wanted to leave my apartment, had suggested he’d be fine riding the subway with me and walking me to the Moonlight. Part of me hadn’t wanted him to leave, but I wasn’t a kid who needed someone to walk them to school anymore.
“My fiercely independent lover,” he’d called me before kissing me goodbye and heading out.
I’d made it to the subway early, looking forward to working again after the long break. The subway was still relatively full at this time, and so I ended up standing. I spotted Ben when the train swayed in a curve.
