Best Seat in the House #2
I pushed the door open. All twenty-three patrons paused their gossiping to turn toward the newcomer.
As quickly as I drew their attention, they returned to their conversations.
I spotted Gladys and Gloria, but the lack of squeals meant they either didn’t recognize me or their conversations were more important. I let out a breath of relief.
“So,” Dorothy started, “you can see we’re kind of a big deal.”
Her purple hair had been freshly dyed. I opened my mouth to comment.
“You can either wait.” We were going to have a one-sided conversation. “Or… follow me.”
Dorothy didn’t ask so much as gently demand.
I stayed frozen by the hostess station as she weaved through the tables with the grace of a ballerina.
It took a moment before I spotted a single empty chair in the corner.
On the other side of the table, a gentleman looked up from his phone.
They talked, and I wondered if she gave him the same firm tone?
She waved me over. My options were starving or awkwardly sitting across from a stranger. The rumble in my belly decided for me.
She pulled out the chair. “Best seat in the house.” Before I could sit, she thrust it under my butt. “I’ll get you some coffee and the breakfast—”
“Can I—”
“Coffee.” Her lips thinned until I realized my lunch had been decided before I arrived. “And a breakfast sandwich.”
She didn’t wait for confirmation as she started clearing plates from a nearby table.
It left me sitting across from a portly man with a beard that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be red or brown.
I stared long enough that it went from awkward to laughable.
I couldn’t fight the feeling that this wasn’t the first time we had sat across from one another.
“This is weird, right?” I nearly spit out a ‘thank you’ for breaking the tension.
“Very weird.”
He pointed to his plate. “She’s right about the sandwich.”
“Do I know you?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I’m not from Firefly.”
“Me, either.” It only grew more awkward. “Well, my grandparents live here. I’m visiting.”
My nails bit into my palms, trying to distract me from those green eyes.
His tie hung dangerously close to his plate and the growing puddle of egg yolk.
With it slightly askew, I could see the buttons of his dress shirt straining to hide his body.
No matter where I looked, I worried this poor man would think I was gawking at his wide chest and deliciously thick arms. Okay, I was gawking a little.
His eyes narrowed as if I wasn’t the only one trying to place a face. “How about we try this from the start?” He reached across the table, offering his hand. “Hi, I’m Sampson.”
I froze as I recognized those eyes. I didn’t know him, but Mabel did.
He had been at Spectrum for her retirement.
Sitting at a small table with two of his buddies, his head had bobbed to the music.
If I let on that I recognized him, I’d be violating the gentleman’s agreement between the patrons of Spectrum.
The reasons for his attendance could have had nothing to do with his sexuality.
If I opened my mouth, I also risked outing myself, and I had locked her away.
Out of the corner of my eye, Dorothy watched us. I almost rolled my eyes when she gestured for me to take his hand. Firefly’s meddling remained legendary. Instead of protesting, I took his hand. Firm grip. Three up and downs.
“I’m Mike.”
He let go, and before I settled back into my chair, Dorothy appeared. “Coffee. Sandwich will be out in a minute.” I didn’t need to see her face to know she had a smile from ear to ear. “You two enjoy each other’s company.”
Sampson leaned forward, holding his hand up to his mouth. “Is everybody in Firefly like that?”
“Perky?”
“Insistent.”
I laughed. If he only knew the extent they’d go to for hospitality. “Now I know you’re a flatlander. They have a very particular brand of helpfulness.”
“I’ve been invited to two bake sales and a school play since I got here.” He chuckled at his own joke. “Those quilting ladies—” He leaned to the side and waved at Gladys. “—I can’t tell if they want me to join or send me home with blankets.”
“You’re telling me you haven’t been voluntold for a spaghetti dinner?”
His eyes lit up. “No.” Sampson patted his belly. Like myself, it didn’t appear as if he shied away from a hearty meal. “But you have my attention.”
“If you’re up for that kind of excitement, then you’ll need to show up for Bingo.”
His eyebrows waggled up and down. “Maybe I will.”
A plate with a breakfast sandwich appeared as if by magic. Before I could thank Dorothy, she had already pivoted to another table. At least with food, I could stuff my face and temper the forced dialogue between us. I bit into the sandwich and froze.
“Ohmygod,” I mumbled. Simon had gone above and beyond. Since he opened the doors to his restaurant, its reputation had spread far and wide. How did he pack in so much flavor? He created a perfect explosion in my mouth. “Dorothy. I want more,” I called out.
Sampson had a grin on his face. “So many dirty puns.”
He couldn’t be half bad if he had a dirty mind.
“So, what do you do for work?”
Oh. We were going to have an actual conversation? I thought devouring this plate of amazing would deter more awkwardness. As much as I wanted to sit and stew in my feelings of inadequacy, I couldn’t resist a handsome man with a smirk stapled on his face.
I swallowed. “I’m a bookkeeper in hospitality. Yourself?”
“I made an app.”
He attempted to build a bridge between us, but it wouldn’t be paved with common work experience. The only things on my phone were mindless games, photos, and porn. I almost asked him if he created XPorn. I thought twice, knowing the ears of the Quilting Guild would be listening.
He tried. The least I could do was return the favor. “What brings you to Firefly?”
He took another bite of his sandwich, his eyes rolling back as he gave a slight moan. Handsome. Loves food. Good at moaning? I’d be lying if I didn’t confess to being half hard already. Dorothy had earned a sizable tip.
“I’m hosting a corporate retreat.”
We weren’t any closer to common ground. “In Firefly?”
“Funny story,” he said.
Sampson wiped his mouth, and for a moment, I was jealous the napkin touched those lips. If I made it out of the bistro without a wet spot on my jeans, it’d be a miracle.
“It’s my father’s fault, really.” Generational drama. It teetered on interesting.
“Oh, we know all about your father,” Gladys chimed in.
Of course, she listened. I wouldn’t be surprised if she provided live updates to the forum.
“He almost turned the mill into a resort. The whole town was in an upheaval. Couldn’t leave the house without seeing signs about it.
Your father…” For a moment, I thought she’d swear and call him a bastard.
I’d have paid money. “…brought the whole town together. We said no, but he gave us a swift kick in the pants. You can thank him for that at least.”
She returned to her table, ears open, ready for another history lesson.
“Well, that’s not boring,” I said. I almost said “a-ha” out loud as I realized the other two people at the table had been his co-workers. Had they realized they were walking into a gay bar? Or had that been intentional?
“One more thing—” Dorothy had returned, darting in and out at the most inopportune moments. “Firefly’s first annual Pride is a week and a half away. Best make sure you have your most fabulous outfits ready.”
She dropped a flier on the table. Covered in rainbows, Firefly had finally pulled the trigger.
They had hosted a comic book convention, a town fair, fireworks, and more bake sales than I could count.
With all the bears in town, it was only a matter of time before they used it as an excuse for a celebration.
I picked up the flier. “I’ll be there.”
I’m not sure if she heard me, as she started in on a question about yarn selection with Gloria.
Looking up from the glitter-covered flier, Sampson tensed.
Firefly made it their mission to welcome everybody, but it didn’t mean every resident shared the sentiment.
I had seen the same expressions on the faces of men who walked into Spectrum before they realized it was that kind of club.
Not disgust, but his eyes held a quiet discomfort.
Poor guy. I threw him a lifeline. “Are you going to tell me about your app?”
His restlessness surfaced as he tapped his fingers on the table. He had quietly bobbed his head in anonymity, but here in the light of day, a rainbow-covered sheet of paper left him unsettled.
He held up his wrist and pointed to his watch. “Hate to dash.” Skittish, but polite. “I have to get back to the retreat.”
Another wipe of the napkin, and he stood up. He reached into his pocket, and I couldn’t help but stare. There, at eye level, was a bulge worth noticing. If Gladys could read my thoughts, she’d have fainted.
“Check it out sometime.” He handed me a card. He set money down. I stared at the bills, realizing it was enough to cover his meal and mine. Had he just—
“I’ll see you around,” I said.
Sampson had already made it to the door, and I didn’t mind watching how the slacks hugged the curves of his ass.
I turned the card over, surprised to see his app helped people suffering from burnout.
Maybe he wasn’t the corporate CEO I first imagined?
My finger ran over the embossing on the business card.
“Exhale.” Maybe I’d have to check him… or it out?