Page 21 of Daddy's Christmas Elf
Eli returned his gaze to Grey, who had the uncomfortable, nervy feeling Eli was weighing him up, assessing whether or what to say in answer. Putting down his mug on the coffee table, Eli blew out a long breath, making his dark fringe flutter, and the doubt Grey had seen in his face melted away.
“I’ve got a plan I’m working towards, to have my own business. I’m getting there, but it’s taking time, more time than I thought it would to be honest.”
A worried frown scrunched Eli’s forehead, and there it was again, that urge in Grey to smooth it away, to take care of whatever it was that was causing Eli to fret. He stilled his hand, as he stilled his tongue, and waited.
“I want to have my own catering business.”
“You want to open a pizza restaurant?” It’d cost a small fortune to start up, and many businesses folded within a year. Doubt must have shown on his face, because Eli was staring at him, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
“No. Way too risky, and too much of a capital outlay, which I don’t and won’t have — not if I don’t want to be saddled with debt. I’m talking about mobile catering. A mobile pizza and jacket potato business. I’ve got a business plan, and I’ve done my research so I know it can work.”
There was defiance in his words, and in the steady, level gaze Eli locked onto Grey, as though challenging him to pour cold water on his idea. Grey would never do that, but he picked his words carefully.
“Then you’ve done a lot more than most people who start their own businesses. I’m all for self-employment, because after all I’m part of the club.” Grey smiled, hoping to wipe away the defensive caste to Eli’s face. It must have worked because Eli nodded, and when he spoke the slight defensive edge was gone.
“I know. Knowledge is power, right? That’s why I’m trying out all these combos on my willing victims. To see if they work. You were won over, weren’t you?”
Grey took a sip of his tea, which had grown tepid. It was his stalling tactic as much as it’d been Eli’s. Yes, he’d been won over, completely and utterly, but not with pizza. Or maybe a little with the pizza.
“… festivals. So I know the sort of thing that sells.”
Eli stared hard at him, his gaze intense. He was waiting for the answer to a question Grey hadn’t heard.
“Festivals...?”
“Yeah. I spent most of my childhood and teens being taken to one festival or another. All over the country, going up and down in Mum and Dad’s camper van. And you know what they all had in common?” Eli looked at him, as though willing the answer to spring from his tongue.
“I—”
“Food. Or, more accurately, not the right kind of food.”
Eli pulled his legs up and tucked his feet under him. Excitement and a burning enthusiasm rolled off him as he warmed up to his theme. Grey was content to listen, content to enjoy this vibrant, animated version of Eli.
“Mongolian mountain goat curry is one thing, or tofu risotto, or whatever, but pizza and jacket spuds,everybodyloves them.” Eli began to count off the points on his fingers. “Easy and fast to cook if you’ve got the right set up. Inexpensive raw materials. Easy to eat. Endless meat-free and vegan toppings and fillings. At every festival or fair I went to, the queues for the pizzas and spuds were miles long.
“For a few months, I even worked for a friend of my parents’ who had his own wagon. He made a mint. There are festivals and fairs going on all the time, all over the country, you can go from one to the other, and pizza and jacket potatoes work at any time of the year. It’s what I want to do, to be in charge of my destiny.”
Eli snorted out a laugh and glanced away as if embarrassed by his outburst of enthusiasm. Grey was filled with both adoration and admiration.
“I think it sounds like a good idea. Hard work—”
“I’m not afraid of working hard. Not for what I want. It’s why I’ve been doing the Jolly Eventful stuff for the best part of a year. Or was. On top of the day job. All to save up for the equipment. My parents have said they’ll help me, and they will if I ask, but they live what’s not much more than a hand to mouth existence. I need to do this for myself.”
“There’s nothing wrong with asking for help, or accepting it when offered.”
Grey’s chest tightened. The words were meant for Eli, to let him know he didn’t have to go it alone, that letting somebody take some of the weight wasn’t a bad thing. Because some people wanted or needed to be another’s rock, to hold them steady and take the strain. Grey coughed and cleared his throat.
“Day job? What do you do when you’re not being an elf?” A very sweet and sexy little elf, Grey added but only to himself. Yet why hadn’t he thought Eli had another job? Of course he would have, because seasonal gigs weren’t going to pay the rent, or finance dreams and ambitions.
Eli groaned. “If you thought having to dress up as an elf, or a banana—”
“Banana?” Grey’s brows arched.
“Yep. I’ve been the whole fruit salad at one time or another. Plus a hot dog, a chip, and even a microwave oven—no, don’t ask.” Eli glared at him, and Grey pressed his lips together. “In my day job, which, we were told last week would be undertaking somestreamliningin the new year, I sell pet supplies. To pet shops. The Perky Pet Company, it’s the biggest supplier of hamster consumables in the South East.” Eli stared at him, his face impassive.
“Hamster consumables…?”
Eli’s shoulders started to shake as be began to laugh. “Hamster wheels to you and me. But pet consumables of all kinds. Plus food, and non-vet supplied medicinals. I even have my own portfolio of customers. Each day, I have to ring around and enquire if they need any more worming tablets. Or maybe puppy wee mats. There was much excitement last month because we had a special offer on — flea powder, at half price. So, I reckon you can see why I might want to do something else with my life.”
