“I know.” Jeff’s voice had the distinct ring of resignation.
“That dickhead wanted to own you. You’re better than that, Jeff, and we both know it. You deserve to be in a relationship with someone who respects you for who you are, not who he wants you to be.”
“Craig, you’re the best. You always know how to make me feel better.”
Craig smiled, knowing Jeff would be okay. “Just let yourself in. You do still have the key to my place, don’t you?”
“Yes. I never seem to manage to take it off my key ring.”
“Good. Head over there, get some sleep, then meet me at the cafe near work at noon. We’ll only have about an hour to chat, but there’s always tonight.”
“We could have a slumber party! It’s Friday night.”
Craig huffed. “Yippee. That’s just how I want to spend a weekend night when I don’t have to be up for work the next morning.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it, honey.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re the only one I know who can make small talk sound inviting.”
“You’ve said it more than once—I could sell ice to an Eskimo.”
“So, how come I’m the one gainfully employed, and you’re the one who’s still looking for a full-time job?”
“Because I was happy to be someone’s housewife.”
“It didn’t suit you.” Taking a deep breath, Craig continued, “I can tell you that. I’m your best friend.”
“Not now, Craig. Get to work. I’ll see you at noon.”
“Okay.”
Craig closed the phone. For the first time since Jeff had moved in with Derek the Dickhead, he felt calm. Now he could go into work feeling more relaxed than he had in months.
“Good morning, Craig. May I have a word with you?” The bank manager popped his head out of his office the minute Craig crossed the threshold.
“Sure, sir.” Craig wasn’t sure if he’d actually spoken to the manager since he’d first started working at the bank over two years earlier.
“Have a seat.” Craig sat down, placing his backpack on the floor in front of him. “I’ve been watching you.”
Never a good sign.
“I realize you’ve been working with us for quite some time. We rarely keep tellers in the same position this long. Usually by now they’ve moved onto other banks or discovered other opportunities within our branches.”
Craig began to wonder if he would be up for an unwelcome promotion. It didn’t matter. The money would be good, and he could put more away for that opportunity that had yet to knock on his door. “I’ve enjoyed working at the bank. It’s a pleasant atmosphere.”
“I see you’ve been here regularly and hardly taken a sick day. But unfortunately, today is the fifth time in three months you’ve walked in after the bank has opened. You do know the hours, don’t you?”
Bastard! Of course I know the fucking hours. But I also know that you have too many tellers set for the opening of business. I’m usually twiddling my thumbs for the first thirty minutes after I’ve set up my cash drawer.
“Sorry I was late. I’ll try to be more prompt.”
“Craig, you’ve said that the last three times. It’s clear to me, as well as the other supervisors, you have little to no interest in making the Boston Bank and Trust your career path.”
“Wait a minute.” Craig sat up taller in his chair, feeling a bit too much like he was in the school principal’s office, about to get a lengthy detention. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying your time with us is finished. We’re looking for prospective financiers. People who want to be surrounded by money, let money work for them to create the ideal employment opportunity, become bank managers and investment experts.”
“But, sir, you’ve known from the start I didn’t want any of that.”
“Yes, Craig, I did. But you’re bright and you had a good resumé, so I let it go with the hope you’d change your attitude.”
“What are you saying?” Craig knew what was coming next, but he wasn’t about to make it easy for his soon-to-be former boss.
“It’s time to cut you loose, let you go. You need to find your way, Craig. Please clean out your drawer and I’ll escort you out.”
“No need. I never left anything here anyway. Maybe I always knew it would end like this.” Craig stood up tall and proud, dignity intact, backpack over his shoulder, and walked out.
The moment he was on the street, he took a cleansing breath and smiled rather than falling apart. Getting fired, with a little unemployment check to tide him over, felt amazing. The air smelled sweeter and the sun seemed brighter than it had in ages.
He opened his phone and hit the number one on his speed dial. “Jeff, pick up. We can meet earlier. I don’t need to be at work today. Can’t wait to tell you all about it.”
Closing the phone, Craig descended the escalator into the T Station at Government Center, ready to ride to Brighton and the comfort of his tiny apartment. It would be cramped with Jeff bunking in the minute living room/dining area, but somehow the thought of being greeted by the tall, slender, freckle-faced redhead gave Craig an energetic charge. He picked up the pace, looking forward to the dramatic greeting he’d soon get.
Getting fired was definitely not a bad thing at all. Craig wished he’d managed it months earlier.
Chapter 2
JEFF scanned the fairly empty apartment. Craig was certainly down to bare bones for furniture: an inexpensive sofa, probably something he’d found at a garage sale, a simple, dark wood coffee table, definitely not mahogany, and two barrel chairs. Everything was in neutral colors.
“Tsk, tsk.” Jeff shook his head. “How can you claim to be gay and have no sense of style? I’m going to have to make you my next pet project. It’ll give me something to occupy my time.”
Taking his cell phone out of his pocket, Jeff texted Derek, letting him know where he was staying. The response was
