Chapter 4-1
878 Words
Chapter 4
Darrell wanted to kiss the ground when they finally arrived at the restaurant Barnaby had driven them to. The man was a maniac, pure and simple. His little Volkswagen Beetle weaved in and out of street traffic at alarming speeds, braking unexpectedly or sometimes not at all. As he opened the passenger door, he felt distinctly ill. Thankfully, the restaurant, a deli, had only been a few blocks from the office.
“It’s a wonder you’re still alive,” he said primly.
“What?” Barnaby gave him a blank look and shrugged.
As Darrell followed the flamboyant man inside, he had to wonder what the hell he had agreed to. Sometimes being nice was not a plus.
After they’d been seated at a plastic booth and given their drinks of iced tea for him and coffee for Barnaby, Darrell eyed the menu suspiciously. He wondered how clean this place was. He glanced around looking for bugs.
“Have you eaten here before?”
“Oh sure.”
Pursing his lips, Darrell studied his choices. “How’s the patty melt?”
“I’m a veggie.”
Darrell stared at him. “What?”
Barnaby waved his hand. “You know, a vegetarian. I always get a salad. I’m sure it’s fine though. I’ve been here with a few dates before and it looks all greasy.”
Darrell winced and looked across to the other side of the menu where it stated breakfast was served all day.
When the harried looking waitress came back, Darrell ordered the one-egg breakfast, scrambled, and Barnaby ordered the aforementioned salad.
“Look, Barnaby,” Darrell said as the waitress walked away, “I appreciate your asking me to lunch, but I have to be upfront with you.”
“Don’t give yourself a heart attack, man. I know you’re not interested in me.”
Darrell blinked, feeling more than a little relieved. “You do?”
“I can’t say your taste is spectacular, but yeah, I got the vibes.” Barnaby grinned and leaned his chin on his hand. “I know who you are interested in though.”
With a sinking feeling, he sipped his tea. He doubted Barnaby actually knew, but for a moment, he felt a sense of panic. He pushed it aside. “And who would that be?”
“Travis. My Travis.”
“Travis? No, I’m not.” Darrell squirmed and looked away. Then his gaze darted right back. “Your Travis?”
“Relax, I don’t mean literally. But, yeah, I’ve seen you looking.”
“It’s your imagination,” he mumbled.
“Sure.”
“Well, even if I was, he’s not gay.”
Barnaby choked on his coffee. “Is that a Long Island Iced Tea? D, trust me, Travis is not straight.”
Confused, Darrell was silent for a moment. A moment where, in spite of his best intentions, a tiny spark of hope leapt into his heart. “But he said you weren’t his type.”
“Duh. I’m not your type either. Does that make you straight?”
“Oh.” Darrell nodded, feeling foolish. “I see.”
“You should ask him out,” Barnaby said just as the waitress plopped his salad in front of him. She likewise put Darrell’s breakfast plate in front of him.
“Need anything else?” she asked, already moving away without waiting for their answer.
“Nice,” Barnaby said.
“He’s my boss,” Darrell pointed out.
“Yeah, there is that.” Barnaby, who sat on the side of the booth facing the entrance, suddenly reached across the table and gripped Darrell’s hands. “Guess who just walked in.”
Darrell threw out a name. “Tina Turner.”
“I wish. None other than Anderson and Llewellyn of Anderson, Llewellyn, and Stevens.”
“Here? Really?” He squelched down an odd sense of panic. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was on his lunch break. He needed to stop feeling like a kid caught ditching class.
“Hello, Barnaby, Darrell,” Travis spoke up as the pair of lawyers stopped at their table. “Didn’t expect to see you two here.”
“Same here.” Barnaby indicated the booth. “Why don’t you two join us?”
“Looks like you already got your food.”
“They’re fast here. Besides, if you guys join us, we can take extra time. Can’t hardly get in trouble when you’re lunching with the boss, right?” He scooted over.
“Uh…Barnaby—” The sense of panic returned full force. Somehow knowing Travis was also gay and was about to sit right next to him sent his heart to fluttering and his stomach to sinking.
“Okay.” Travis nodded and went to sit next to Darrell, just as he suspected.
“Um, maybe, we should just let them eat and get our own table,” Nathan said quickly. His cheeks were slightly pink.
“Nah, it’s cool. Come on, Mr. Llewellyn.” Barnaby patted the plastic cushion bench.
When they were both seated, the hostess thrust menus into their hands.
“What’s good here?” Travis asked, directing the question to Darrell.
“This is my first time, actually. Barnaby suggested it.”
Travis smiled and glanced at Barnaby. “Yeah, he suggested it to me, too.”
Barnaby looked suspiciously innocent. “What about you, Mr. Llewellyn? Ever been here?”
His head buried in the menu, Nathan mumbled, “No.”
The waitress came by, looking even more harried then before. “Is this a separate check?”
“No,” Travis said smoothly. “I’ll take care of it.”
“What would you like?”
“I’ll have what he’s having,” Travis and Nathan spoke at once, but while Travis indicated what Darrell had, Nathan indicated the salad Barnaby ate.
“Fine.” She scribbled it down and hurried off.
“Matches made in heaven,” Barnaby murmured.
Darrell kicked the man in the shin. Ignoring the glare from Barnaby, he then turned back to Travis, trying to think of a neutral subject for them all to discuss. He really couldn’t think of anything. He was so bad at small talk. He didn’t like sports, and politics and religion were usually too hot of topics to discuss with people he knew well let alone co-workers.
“What were you talking about when we got here?” Travis asked into the uncomfortable silence.
“Actually—”
“Tina Turner,” Darrell said quickly, his stomach sinking thinking of Barnaby spilling the beans.
Travis smiled. “I like her music for the most part.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
“What about you, Nathan?” Travis asked.
Nathan look startled. “What?”
“Do you know Tina Turner?”
The man cleared his throat. “She has very nice legs, doesn’t she?”
- Writer
