but the diner job…”
Silver nodded. “No, I get it. I’ve had a couple friends question why I sling burgers at night when I’m sometimes working twelve to fifteen hour days if Carl has a show or client deadline I have to meet.” He took another sip of his beer. “But I’m putting money away. I don’t have any family obligations, so now’s the time to save for my future.”
Hmm. Maybe Silver wasn’t gay after all. Their conversation had taken somewhat of a ‘dude’ turn. Or maybe he was bi or experimenting, wanted to fool around while he was young, then settle down with a wife and kids later on.
“That’s commendable. I hope you still leave room to enjoy yourself now and again?”
Donovan took another sip of his drink, hoping to catch up to Silver. Maybe after he got a couple more beers into him, Donovan could steer Silver back into a more enjoyable direction.
“I have my moments.”
Silver’s expression had returned to being unreadable and Donovan wasn’t sure where to go next with their conversation. What did this man want?
“Well, uh…” Donovan ran a hand across the top of his head. “Sounds like you’ve got things figured out. That was a bit of good fortune that you got the position with Carl. There must have been tons of mechanics gunning for it, yet he chose you.” Donovan held up his martini as if toasting him. “Congrats on that.”
“I didn’t apply. He came to me.”
Donovan’s jaw went slack. “He… How did he know about you?”
Silver gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Carl used to come into the garage where I’d worked since I turned eighteen. After a while, I was the only guy he wanted touching his cars. If I wasn’t available, he’d have a fit. Finally, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Donovan snorted. “I hope there weren’t any severed horse heads involved?”
“Nope.” Silver took another swig of beer. “Just lots of cash.”
“Wow.”
Donovan didn’t know what else to say. The picture he’d had in his head about Silver was way off. Judging from outward appearances, Silver was struggling, stuck slogging away at two jobs to eke out a living and hang on.
Judging. Donovan knew what it was like when that critical eye was directed his way. Yet, he’d done the very same thing to Silver. He took a healthy slug of the vodka and olive juice, swallowing down the burn as he mused that not only had he judged Silver, but anyone else who wasn’t wealthy and white collar.
Anyone who’s different.
The liquor swam in his gut and he bemoaned the fact that he hadn’t thought to get water when he’d been at the bar.
“What about you, Donovan? I get the impression you don’t work in a garage or a diner.”
Donovan wasn’t sure whether he was being mocked or not, but he didn’t have the right to be mad. Not when he’d just been harboring such unfair thoughts about Silver.
“Well, I’m not like Carl. I don’t buy and sell high-end vehicles. I’m the CEO of Fonterra and Associates.” Silver regarded him with a blank expression. Donovan cleared his throat and shifted on the worn, but still well-maintained, red pleather seat. “It’s an architectural firm. Been in the family for generations.”
Silver didn’t appear affected by Donovan’s declaration.
“That’s quite a large responsibility. Sounds as though your family has placed a lot of trust in you by handing over the reins to the entire company.”
“Well, it’s a tad more complicated than that.” He gave a shaky laugh. “I’m not sure ‘trust’ is the right word for how they view my contribution.”
“Is it something you enjoy doing?”
“What?” Donovan frowned. “It’s not the type of job one…” Donovan couldn’t seem to remain still. “What I mean is, that it’s not about enjoying the work as much as it’s about making sure things stay running smoothly and, well…upholding the dignity of the family name.”
Silver’s eyebrows arched, and Donovan couldn’t blame him. Even he had no idea what he was talking about.
“And doing all that makes you happy?”
Donovan clenched his teeth together then downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. Why the fuck were they having some soul-searching discussion when all Donovan had set out to do that evening was fuck and forget? To have a few drinks, a few laughs then lose himself in the scent and feel of another man, to be so thoroughly used that he’d have the will to face another pointless day. His goddamn family was the last thing he wanted to talk