Chapter 11 #3
That didn’t last long. I looked up and smiled at Anson, only to discover that he had continued to look at me intensely while I prattled on and explored on my phone.
“You’re welcome,” he said seriously, and I smiled in acknowledgment.
“But now I’ve left it to the last minute …”
“Is your dad a meat-and-potatoes type of guy?” Anson asked.
“Yeah. I’d say so.”
He reached for the phone console on his desk without taking his eyes from me. “Will you allow me to make a suggestion?” His words sounded so formal, his stare remaining intense as if the fate of the world was in my answer.
“Of course.”
He nodded but didn’t reply to me. Instead, he hit a button on the desk phone. Before he could speak, Ross’s voice came through. “Boss?”
“I need a reservation for two at Beantown Prime for …” Anson tilted his head at me in question.
I’d heard of Beantown Prime, of course; it was near MIT but not a place many students went to, unless their parents were in town and could afford it.
It’s not a place Dad and I ever considered, but as a fully employed about-to-be Doctor of Science at New Day Technologies, I didn’t hesitate at the suggestion.
“For Friday night,” I answered Anson’s unasked question.
“For two,” he repeated to Ross, “for this Friday evening at 7:30. It’s for Benji and his father but make sure it’s under my name, Ross. I don’t want them to have any hiccups.”
“Understood, boss.” Ross made it sound like he and Anson were speaking in code. I looked into those eyes that remained locked on mine and tried to figure out the underlying message. Then I was just lost in them again, wondering if cerulean was a strong enough word to describe them.
“You should join us!” I blurted out, and those eyes went wide. Anson shook his head no, fervently.
“No, seriously. I had meant to ask you. Wouldn’t you like to see your childhood friend again? Catch up. Talk about how great his son is.” I ventured a joke and stopped to see Anson’s reaction. He continued to look at me seriously. I could tell he was thinking it through.
“Make the arrangements, Ross,” he said before hanging up on his assistant.
“I wouldn’t want to interfere with your time with your dad,” Anson insisted.
I couldn’t let go of the idea. “He gets here tomorrow; we’ll have plenty of time together before dinner on Friday.
He would love to see you, I’m sure of it.
He’s leaving right after the graduation ceremony because he has a big renovation project starting on Monday, so it has to be beforehand.
You know I could never get a reservation at that restaurant on graduation weekend even if I had thought of it before today.
So it’s only fair that you get to enjoy it too.
I really want to introduce you, or, well, reintroduce you to my dad. Please join us.”
His face took on a strained look. “I plan to pay for your dinner. Ross will make all the arrangements, so you don’t have to worry about it. Please consider it my graduation gift to you if that’s what you’re worried about.” Ahh, I should have deduced that that was what the code meant.
I put up my hand but then decided I needed to be even more emphatic. I stood and strode to the side of the desk.
“That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.” I leaned in, ignoring the fact that I was close enough to smell that smell and hoping my cock knew enough to ignore it as well.
“See,” I continued, our faces inches away, “I have this awesome new dream job that starts next week. I figured I could splurge on my graduation celebration dinner.” He shook his head no again. “Even dinner for three.”
“Benji.” I loved the way he said my name, part exasperation, part resignation, but also like he liked saying it as much as I liked hearing it.
“Please join my dad and me for my graduation dinner, Anson. I … it would … mean a lot to me.” He tore his eyes from mine and stared at the computer screen like he was staring through it. “And my dad,” I tacked on, desperate to make him see it was a good idea.
He stood quickly, his heavy chair rolling away from him.
I was at the edge of the desk, but I hadn’t budged from when I’d gotten right up in his face.
While we’d spent a lot of time hovering over each other, looking at screens and printers, and that one time when we were touching grass, this was the closest we’d been while standing up, face-to-face.
It felt like a palpable heat filled the space between us. Could Anson feel it too?
“We should get to the lab. You have a busy few days ahead of you. I shouldn’t keep you too late tonight.”
“Beck will see to that,”’ I muttered under my breath as I followed Anson out into the hallway.
“Ross,” he yelled as he stuck his head in the man’s office.
From behind Anson, I could see the smile on Ross’s face.
“Boss!”
“Make it a table for three, please.”
“Done!” he said, winking at me over Anson’s shoulder.
Anson walked toward the elevators, but I stayed back for a moment. Ross did not pick up the phone to change the reservation.
“Why do you call him ‘boss’ and Beck ‘sir’?” I asked “They were both so adamant that everyone goes by first names here. Well, first names and Beck!”
“You do know my office sits between Henry Beckett and Anson fucking Day, right?”
I nodded and laughed. “Yup.”
“I know they encourage people to call them by their first name, but … Beck and Anson, they took a real chance on me when they gave me this job. I don’t understand any of the tech stuff and barely any of the business stuff.
Every time I call Anson ‘boss’ and Beck ‘sir,’ it reminds me how lucky I am to work here.
Plus, it exasperates them a little, which is just a fun little bonus.
They’re good guys, Benji. You see that, right? ”
I nodded. I did see it even if Beck didn’t think the same of me.
“You’re shaking things up around here, Benjamin Warren, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
“I …” I wanted to ask him what he meant, but then he explained it, though maybe not in so many words.
“Anson ate some of those French fries, didn’t he? And finished that whole greasy burger?”
I nodded, and he smiled. Another person looking out for the boss.
“Go on, then. He’s waiting for you.”
I nodded again, unsure how else to respond.
“And Benji?” I turned to face him. “Enjoy dinner on Friday. You have a reservation for three at Beantown Prime. The boss is paying, and he can afford it, so don’t sweat it, okay? I’ll send you the deets.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Ross.”
“Go!” he whispered.
Anson was patiently waiting for me in the elevator.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “Got to chatting with Ross.”