Angel Box Set

Chapter 1-3

Jay stabbed at the keyboard harder than necessary. One letter repeated several times so he next attacked the delete button. He rolled his shoulders, blinked, and rubbed across his face. None of these gestures wiped away his irritation. He had better things to do on a Saturday afternoon, didn’t he? Fine, maybe not, but hardly the point. Dean was the point.

He was here because of Dean Chapman. Dean…with his height, and his muscles, and those baby-blues. A handsome package, sure, topped off with wayward brown hair, so light in places the hue almost edged into blond during summer, and all without the smile. He shouldn’t forget the smile.

The smile made things impossible.

Dean’s teeth were so white Jay would suspect he bleached them if the trait didn’t run in the family. One flash of his choppers and girls came running and men…Some men would sprint, but Dean, so masculine and such a womaniser, let them pout from an immeasurable distance. Straight men discovered they were shaking his hand and agreeing with him before they wondered why.

Was Jay the sole person who found Dean’s smile arrogant? Take today. Although here to sort out another mess for Dean, he received no word of thanks, neither did he expect one. Noooooo. Dean made excuses.

“It’s not my fault. I didn’t do it. I didn’t mean to,” Jay said, whining, sick to discern the whine. He wounded another key. If he didn’t calm down, he would break the bloody keyboard. Not something to put on the old resume.

Self-taught expert, with natural ability, breaks equipment whenever Dean Chapman pisses him off. Gets freebies out of him, sadly not s****l. Stop, stop, stop.

Jay pressed a thumb and index finger over his closed eyes, sat in darkness interspersed with white lines from the pressure. He should do something more practical, not offer services free to the likes of Dean Chapman.

Pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat back and waited for the backup to load, he tried to focus on something—anything—other than Dean. Piles of paperwork and folders didn’t help. He needed to do better in all quarters.

Jay’s occupation of librarian did nothing to improve his overall image, but he wasn’t out to impress. He liked books better than he liked computers, but computers had the potential to earn him more money. Time to stop toying with the idea of studying for an I.T. qualification and become proactive. Waiting for the suitable moment accomplished nothing so he must create one. Then, when the buffoon called for favours, Jay would have the right to say he was too damned busy.

Jay blinked at the screen. He should invoice Dean for this task; let him and others like him fund the course. The decision made, other options followed—he planned to research home study and evening courses right away. Not everyone stumbled upon the opportunity to go to college full-time like Dean, and what had his friend learned? Sure, he passed the relevant exams to become a qualified mechanic, but on the side, he messed about with some writing course. Hard to select two such contrasting subjects. Not that writing was foolish, but Jay disliked people who took qualifications never to use them, and his irritation with Dean heightened his annoyance. As far as he knew, Dean didn’t write, not unless for his personal amusement. Chances were Dean utilised his precious laptop to scan the internet for porn.

Jay chewed on his lower lip, trying to concentrate. The programme achieved fifty-percent on the progress bar, leaving plenty of time for his views to latch on to the elephant out in the workroom. He failed to picture Dean at college. The desire to be a proverbial unseen and unwelcome winged insect on a wall came to mind. The experience changed Dean, though Jay struggled with why. He couldn’t recall Dean being so…cocky. Yes, cocky. Before college, Dean was more approachable, someone to laugh and joke with. Sure of himself, yes, but with a softer side to his personality. These days everything he said and did all came across as shallow. Hadn’t always been the case. The old Dean shone through too seldom in flashes of surprising intelligence in a man capable of the most inane conversations.

A box flashed up, and Jay came out of his daze, performing checks to make sure everything ran well, his selections and movements innate. Without a doubt, he possessed an aptitude for this work. Coming here today might not be a waste. Wait until Dean received a bill. Not substantial, but if Dean wished to keep this little detail from his father he would have to finance the cost from his own pocket. From here on, Jay’s services came with a price.

As for their friendship, Jay liked Dean, would always be his friend, but for now, he wanted to finish, and get the hell away from him.