Boy Issues - Morticia Knight Page 0,16
about.
He wasn’t asking about your family.
“Jesus.” Donovan kneaded his forehead, one of his constant headaches threatening to ruin his evening further. He sucked in a deep breath. “So, I’m going to grab myself another drink. Are you ready for another beer yet?”
Silver’s features were no longer a blank mask. His eyes were narrowed and his brow slightly creased.
“What’s wrong, Donovan.”
Donovan laughed, but it came out half-strangled. “Nothing’s wrong. Just want to get the party going.”
He winked, forgetting how his little move hadn’t charmed Silver earlier. He was rewarded with a scowl.
“I’m not sure what you mean by that, Donovan. If you don’t want to talk about your job, I respect that. We can move to another topic. But there’s something you should know about me before we continue hanging out. I don’t make idle talk and I don’t play games. My time is too valuable for that.”
Donovan snorted. What an ass. “Oh really? Your time is too valuable? I doubt there’s a comparison.”
Silver leaned back against the booth and shook his head, regarding Donovan as if he were a silly child.
“I’m not having a contest with you, Donovan. Everyone’s time is valuable, but not everyone treats their time that way. I was stating a fact. I wanted to clarify with you that I do. That’s all.”
“Whatever.” Hunk or no hunk, Silver might be more trouble than he was worth. “Do you want another drink or not?”
Silver smiled with maddening sincerity, the anger Donovan had spewed not seeming to phase him one bit. Donovan cringed. Maybe he was acting like a child.
“No, thank you. One drink is my limit.”
Donovan lowered his eyes, shame washing over him. With a few words, Silver had held up a mirror to him, and Donovan was terrified that he finally was becoming his father, the one thing he’d fought against more than anything for years. Perhaps the company was sucking his soul dry as much as the diner had drained Marge’s.
Regardless, his party plans had still been derailed, and he wasn’t ready to let go of the evening’s objective quite yet.
“Look, I apologize for my little outburst.” Donovan lifted his gaze, startled by how worried he was by Silver’s possible criticism. “It’s been a ghastly day, and I took it out on you.”
“Apology accepted. And now you know where I stand on bullshit, so that was a positive exchange.”
Donovan couldn’t get past how formal Silver came across, especially for a… He groaned as he scrubbed his face with one hand. Mechanic? Line cook? Clearly, his ingrained prejudices had sunk their claws into him and wouldn’t be letting go anytime soon.
He started at the touch of Silver’s hand on his wrist. “Are you all right? We can call it an evening if you’re not feeling well.”
Donovan cleared his throat. Twice. “Uh, no.” He attempted a reassuring smile but had no idea if he’d succeeded. “Nothing that a few more martinis can’t fix.”
Silver’s expression of concern changed to one of reproach. “No.”
Donovan stopped mid butt-slide. “Excuse me?”
“No more martinis. Not when you’re driving. Is there someone you can call to come get you if you have more to drink?”
Donovan threw his hands in the air. “Oh, yes. That would be perfect. Let me call Mr. Report My Every Move Back to My Family to come get me. Wouldn’t my father and brother have a field day with that.”
Silver reached across the table, but before their skin could make contact, Donovan snatched his hand away.
Silver sighed. “Talk to me. You’re obviously upset, so let’s figure out a way to make things better.”
Donovan spluttered and huffed as he tried to wrap his mind around Silver solving the problems of his forty-two years worth of crappy family life in a few sentences.
“Oh. Right. Make things better. That’s a good one.” He jabbed a finger at Silver. “It is what it is, okay? I didn’t come here for a therapy session, or advice or pep talk. I came here for one thing, and one thing only.”
Silver smirked. “I have a pretty good idea what that ‘one thing’ is, but I was hoping for a chance to get to know you better. I can’t figure you out, although, I think I might be getting closer to a clear understanding now.”
Donovan gritted his teeth and growled, “You know what? Fuck you. I don’t need your judgment or help or pity or whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish here. I’m a top business executive at a highly prestigious company with a salary and trust