Dating Rules And Pretty Fools Ch. 02

Absentmindedly, he took the sandwich from the table and began eating. The yolk dripped over his fingers. "Fuck," he groaned, and then realization hit him. It was a damn good sandwich. He only needed to be careful not to get yolk all over himself.

So, Otis from 508, Otis like the elevator, Otis who was -- only heaven knew why -- in terrible need of dating advice, that Otis also knew how to make a sandwich. Hudson shrugged. The chances were Watkins wouldn't come sniffing around too often. A man who needed two goons to guard his ass didn't prefer visiting dingy apartments all the time. That was a man who wasn't exactly at the top of the food chain, but obviously had ambition. This little meeting had been a means to impress Hudson -- Mr. Vegas, as his undercover nickname indicated -- by catching him with his pants down, so to speak. It looked like Watkins appreciated a business partner that would cause no trouble.

However, trouble was exactly what he had in mind to cause certain people. The game was afoot. There was just a little pinprick that made him itchy, and it had a name. Hudson shrugged again. He was reading too much into everything. However, he'd keep an eye on his nosy neighbor, one of the reasons being that he wanted very much to see that other eye.

***

Confusion was natural, Otis thought as he joined Missy at waiting tables on the floor, promoted as he seemed to be to that role since Jerry had chosen to be a no-show for good. Mr. Smith had promised him a raise, too, and that was a good reason to be happy and dedicate himself to waiting the tables. He enjoyed doing his job competently, but it was getting difficult with him thinking of his handsome neighbor all the time. There was also the matter of that ugly man who visited Hudson that day. Otis scolded himself; it wasn't nice to call other people ugly. It was only how the man had looked at him, with the sort of curiosity one would have toward an animal, that had made Otis think of him as repulsive.

Missy woke him from his conflicting musings by nudging his elbow. "That man is here again," she whispered.

"What man?" Otis asked. Did she mean the ugly man visiting Hudson that time? But, how could she--He was being silly again. She meant someone completely different.

Missy moved even closer. She was so short that even with someone like him, she had to push herself up on her toes to reach his ear. "Don't look. It's the guy in that well-cut suit at table three. It looks like he likes that table. And you."

Otis tried to look in the direction indicated, but Missy hissed at him again. "Don't look."

"How can I look at him without looking?"

Missy pushed a menu into his hands. "He just asked for you. I would've flipped him off, but our dear boss doesn't exactly take well to what he calls my antics. Now, go. Whatever he offers, say 'no'."

"He'll ask for food. I can't tell him 'no'," Otis replied, feeling more confused than before.

Missy rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

No, he didn't. But, armed with the menu, he walked toward table three with what he hoped was a deferential smile, and not the kind that freaked people out.

***

The customer at table three was alone. He wore, indeed, what looked like a well-cut suit, as Missy had put it, in the sense that it draped well on his body. Unlike Otis, he had a reasonable meat percentage to show off, and the suit jacket stretched across his shoulders as it should. He had dark hair that looked greasy in the restaurant light; he probably used some hair product, Otis decided. It was too shiny to be just dirty. Especially, since the rest of the man appeared to be clean.

"Good evening, sir," he said quietly.

The man, who had been absorbed in something on his phone, raised his eyes and smiled when he saw him. He looked younger than Otis had thought while eyeing him from afar. He moved his arms in wide gestures, as he put his phone down and then accepted the menu from Otis's hands.

"Hi there, pretty eyes." He began leafing through the menu with one hand while he touched his tie pin with the other. It was silver and drew attention to itself by being in contrast with the black tie. Everything the man wore was black, including his dress shirt. Except for that pin.

After what felt like no longer than a minute, the customer handed Otis back the menu and ordered with something akin to affectation. Otis knew that word because it could be mistaken with affection. The affectation in this case came with ordering the most expensive things on the menu, not that they had a lot of those. "I will have to ask the cook," he said. "It might take a bit."

"That's all right," the man said joyously. He had a boyish face when he smiled. Although the well-cut suit suited him well, when he smiled like that, he looked like a boy stealing his older brother's clothes so that he could pretend to be someone else. "I can wait if you keep me company."

"I can't," Otis said curtly. "I have other customers."

According to Missy, this young man wanted him as his arm candy. That could mean exactly that, or it could mean that the customer in front of him was interested in getting a date. Since it appeared that he wasn't right for Otis, being so young and wearing his older brother's clothes, the best course of action was to follow the advice offered by Hudson.

"What other customers?"

It was a slow night, and there were only a couple of other tables occupied. Missy was on the job. Therefore, his lie, as white as he intended it to be, didn't hold water. The correct thing to do was to let him down gently, either he was interested in some strange sort of arm candy, or a date.

"I will be right back," he said, nodding shortly.

"Don't take long," the customer called out after him.

The cook, after mumbling something about wannabes and crooks, most of which Otis didn't understand, agreed to prepare the meal the young man wanted. Without any reason to linger in the kitchen, Otis returned to table three.

The smile from before grew wider on the young man's face. "I'm Jackie," he said, but without offering his hand like Hudson had. "And you are," he pretended to squint while reading Otis's tag, "Otis. It's a pretty name."

"Thank you. Yours is pretty, as well," Otis replied dutifully.

"Come on. Sit down," Jackie offered.

"I can't. It's against the rules," Otis said and stiffened.

Jackie grinned, rubbed his chin in thought, and then stared at him. His green eyes were like those of a kid, too, round and pretty. They widened and moved, and they were very expressive. And his eyelashes were very curly, Otis noticed. Was that how Hudson saw him that caused him to call him a kid?

"I have a feeling that you don't like me too much, Otis."

"That is not true. I like all our customers the same."

Jackie laughed, and he didn't seem like he was laughing at Otis, as people usually did. "Ah, straight through the heart, huh?"

"I don't understand what you mean," Otis replied, and he was being very sincere. What was happening to him while looking at this young man who seemed interested in him was very strange. A few days before, he would have felt happy about it. There was finally someone interested in him. Could it be that he was starting to become arrogant because he was waiting tables now and was no longer comfortably hiding in the back?

Or was it something else entirely?

"What I mean," Jackie said and leaned back, hands behind his head, "is that, for some reason, my usual charm doesn't seem to be working on you."

Otis let his eyes linger over the taut body underneath the well-cut suit. It had to be a wonderful body, judging by what he could see of it. However, he needed to make it blatantly clear, because leading people on was not right. "I'm sorry. It is not your fault. You're too young for me."

Jackie gave him a startled look. "For real? If I wasn't sure they don't hire underage people in this place, I'd say you were like sixteen or so."

"I am twenty-two," Otis replied, slightly aggravated now. He didn't look that young. He was sure of it.

"And I am twenty-six," Jackie said, sounding and looking quite exasperated. "Who are you calling young?"

They must have started talking too heatedly, because Missy appeared by their side. "Otis, you may go. I know you wanted to leave early. I'll take over. Good evening, sir," she said in a sugary tone, addressing Jackie. "So happy to see you here again."

Otis didn't wait to listen to any more. He gave a formal farewell and disappeared. He must have looked that young to Hudson, too. No wonder the man called him a kid. And that wasn't good.

TBC