Thanks for the feedback from my first chapter. Here's the next installment. Still a slow burn story for now, sorry no hanky-panky in here yet.
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Beautiful Burglar Boy - Ch. 2 By Jeff Ennig
"Good morning, Jeff!" came the giddy shriek from my effervescent waitress Phoebe. "It may be 6 am, but I love working somewhere that makes me want to get up so crazy early! How's my Jeff?"
Phoebe and I were like siblings at this point, and we were the backbone of the annoyingly perky early morning crew at my shop that our beloved "regulars" came to hobnob with before going about the rest of their day. Running a small-town cafe like this, it's always fascinating to see the different circles of people that form each part of day, and the morning crop of regulars are easily my favorite. When I end up having to work the whole day from open to close, like I did yesterday, it's the energy of the morning that helps propel me through the long day. Of course, last night's events provided their own kind of energy boost. I could barely contain my anticipation about whether Ollie would actually show up later that morning.
"Morning, Pheebs! I'm actually super good. I'll tell you all about it when I come back upstairs. And then I want to hear how your weekend was." I opened the door, switched off the alarm, flipped on the lights, and went downstairs to my office to get to the safe and to grab a few restocking supplies I had forgotten the night before, while Phoebe went about her routine getting the shop ready for the day. I went about it as fast as I could, excited to the point of bursting to tell Phoebe about my encounter with the stunningly beautiful young Oliver the night before. To respect the kid's privacy, and to work on building his trust, I planned to dole out only limited information about Ollie to others, but with Phoebe, I don't usually hold anything back. Plus, her waitressing career began as a refuge from the pressures of the behavioral health field from which she had fled, so her insight into reading this kid might be helpful. She had an incredible knack for disarming unsuspecting customers and coworkers with her quirky charm, and turning two-minute interactions into deep, revealing therapy sessions, often without her therapized victims realizing it. That may come in handy when trying to crack that shell Ollie seemed to have built up around himself.
Reaching upstairs, I immediately started in with, "So... last night, I...."
Seeing right through me, she finished my sentence for me. "You met someone? How old is he?"
Ugh, she knew me and my weaknesses all too well. "I hate it when you do that. And he's 17, turning 18 next week. Also, it's not what you think, or not totally what you think. I saw him last night in the alleyway, tired and hungry. So I fed the poor kid, and brought him over to St. Bonnie's to have a place to stay the night. He was a total mess. But he cleaned up good, and holy Hannah is he gorgeous! Hopefully you'll see what I mean, because I told him to come back at 9 o'clock and I'd put him to work." I bent the truth a little bit. Even with Phoebe, I didn't feel the need to talk about the whole robbing-the-joint part of the story.
"Dammit, Jeff! He had better not be another lying ass junkie you're trying to save. After Rosie, Stephanie, and Tony--FUCK! TONY!--I just can't handle another one. I left my therapy job working with junkies all those years ago, and I don't want to go back."
"I know it may seem like I've been taken in by every meth-head train-wreck in town, Pheebs, but this really is different. Will those three, I knew they were junkies right off the bat, but I was just naive enough to think I could help them. I promise, thanks to your nagging, I've learned my lesson. AND, I promise I'm thinking with more than one of my brains here on this one. I've got a gut feeling that this kid is just a little lost and in need of some love and support."
"Ok, Jeff. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. But you know if this kid is a junkie, I will see right through his BS, and I will make you toss his ass out."
"Deal. And just so you know, I don't want everyone knowing the kid's backstory. I want to give him a fair shot at proving himself first, and then he can decide what he'll share with people. So please just play it cool."
"I will, Jeff. For you. But I'll keep my eye on him. And if he's as hot as you say, I can't make any promises about what else I'll do."
"Oh, he's that and more. You'll see."
The rest of the early morning went by pretty fast. Mornings at Apollo have almost the feel of a fast-paced coffee shop, with me usually manning our espresso machines and chatting up regulars as they stood at my traditional Italian espresso bar counter, leisurely chatting away with me, while Phoebe flits about the dining room visiting with people and taking orders, and the rest of my crew running around helter skelter. Between the college down the road, the county offices across the street, the hospital behind that, and the artsy neighborhood surrounding us, we had no shortage of customers. And the only morning competition was a nearby Starbucks. But all that meant for my business was that all the boring, generic, or rude people were siphoned off to go get their hastily assembled Venti half-caff whatevers in a paper cup with their misspelled names scribbled on the side, while all the interesting people in town came to our bustling local cafe for their morning fix. Owning and running this place honestly just doesn't feel like work.
Sometimes the shop had routines you could set your watch to. Just about every day at exactly 8:59, a lull sets in after the flurry of the morning rush. That's why I had told Ollie to come at 9 o'clock. And by then, we usually had a massive pile of dishes to be done. I already knew that's what I'd put the kid to work doing, if he actually showed up. So when that lull hit and I looked up at the clock, sure enough, it was 8:59. I suddenly realized I was nervous to see him, as if I had a silly schoolboy crush or something. Kind of pathetic for a man in his late 30s, but whatever. I'll lean into it and enjoy the ride. I waited anxiously for the clock to turn 9.
Ding
The sound of the little bell over the front doors let me know someone had entered, right as the clock struck 9. I turned around, and standing near the door, nervously looking up from his feet to look around and then back to his feet again, was Ollie. He wore the same grubby T-shirt and loose basketball shorts he had on the night before. I shouted out, "Ollie! Over here!" hoping I didn't sound too excited.
And that mind-blowingly handsome face, much cleaner than the night before, looked up again and saw me waving him over to the end of the counter where I stood. He nervously walked the length of the shop, staring at his feet most of the way. As he walked over, I noticed Phoebe looking over and noticing the kid from across the dining room. Her eyes widened a bit when she saw how beautiful this kid was, and she gave me a wink and a little thumbs up sign. I flashed her a light-hearted middle finger in return. I noticed a couple customers, male and female, turn their heads at the passing beauty as well.
"Kai, take over for me. I'm hopping off the floor for a bit." My assistant manager, a rotund, no-nonsense butch lesbian with one of the sharpest wits I've ever had walk through my doors, came over and took the reins behind the counter, so I could pay attention to the kid.
"Glad to see you made it, kid. Come sit in here with me a minute." I sat us in a semi-private booth mostly surrounded by walls. Irish pubs call them snugs. One of the many eclectic touches I'd put on the cafe since I had bought the place five years prior. "First things first. You should know that I have not told anyone here about all the events of last night. If you ever want to share that part of the story with someone, that'll be up to you. All anyone here knows is that you're from out of town, staying with friends while you figure things out, and that you walked in here last night asking if you could try working here today. Nobody needs to know anything else. I suppose I think you deserve a clean slate to prove yourself."
"Ok, um, thanks," he said, staring at the table, probably too ashamed to look up at me just then.
"Don't mention it. Now, as for your assignment this morning, we've got a massive pile of dishes in the back you can work your way through. Before you do that, did those goofy Franciscans feed you anything this morning?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty full actually. Just ready to get to work."
"That's what I like to hear. I think you're going to be ok, kid. Now follow me."
We went in the back, and I called Josh the prep cook/dishwasher over from his work readying for the lunch rush to join us by the dishes. "Josh, this is Ollie. He'll be helping out this morning doing dishes. Show him what to do, and maybe help make sure no blood is shed." I could have just done this part myself, but I didn't want to be too overtly clingy with the kid, and besides, delegating tasks is in my DNA.
"Will do, boss. I promise to go easy on the kid. Nice to meet you, Ollie. Ok, let's get to work."
"I'll leave you in Josh's hands, Ollie." I walked over to the little desk across the room to make a few calls. I like working there in the mornings rather than in my basement office so I can stay a part of the action, so to speak. But this morning, it had an added bonus. The desk was positioned so that I could sit at the chair and look only slightly to the right of the monitor to see the dishwashing area. This gave me an excellent view of that perfect ass attached to young Oliver. So tight you could bounce a quarter off of it. And in his haste to get to the cafe on time, he must've worked up a bit of a sweat, because those wonderful basketball shorts again clung tightly to those two mounds of glory, outlining the object of my desire. If anyone but Phoebe were to walk by, they would just think I was either looking at the monitor or staring off into space while talking on the phone. I watched as Ollie methodically worked his way through the dishes, mesmerized by the sight I saw, and thankful for those wonderful basketball shorts, as they continued to cling in all the right ways. When he occasionally reached for a high shelf to put away a dish, arms outstretched, I got a glimpse of his perfectly toned triceps, and could also make out a couple more bruises which tainted the perfection of the image before me. I hoped I would learn more about those.
Although I was frequently distracted by the view, I did in fact manage to get some work done. As the lunch rush approached, I sent Ollie out to check with Kai and help set up the place for lunchtime. I used that time to get a few more things done without the distraction of watching beauty in motion, including putting in a call to Brother James to check in. I came back out to the front as the lunch rush began, and sent Ollie into the back again on dish duty. He energetically complied, hopping back to the back room with haste. I was impressed so far at what a hard worker the kid seemed to be.
The lunch rush, like the morning rush, went by pretty fast. Besides the revolving door of random customers, we had a core crop of lunchtime regulars entirely different from the morning bunch. I enjoyed making my rounds to the tables and visiting with people, occasionally acting as a server and busboy when needed. We had a few professors from the college, one of the county judges who always ate by herself, the mayor and his assistant, the police sergeant who always brought a different officer with him for lunch, a construction crew who always seemed to have some project or other in the area, and a delightful array of semi-grumpy retirees who sought a little routine in their day. Ollie came out a few times to collect dishes, and seemed to look with amazement at the bustling scene. As I stood talking to Eric, an English professor at the college who seemed to have a similar wandering eye for strapping young lads, he laid eyes on the young mystery boy running about. "Who's that?!?" he asked in hushed tones.
"Whoa, easy there, Eric. Ollie is his name. Not sure if he'll be sticking around, but I'm hoping so. Nice kid."
"Uh huh, don't try to act coy with me, Jeff. I can see what's on your mind. You have good taste."
"Oh, shut up," I laughed.
"Not that I have any shortage of eye candy at the college, but this new scenery here definitely would get me to come here every day."
"You already come here every other day, Eric. But if you make it every day, I'd be happy to take more of your money. Anyway, I best be moving on. See you tomorrow then?"
"Oh, I wouldn't miss this."
"Haha, ok. Have a good one, Eric."
After the rush died down and the dust settled, I grabbed a couple plates of food and called Ollie over to sit with me again in one of the snugs. "Well, Ollie, how did it go today?"
Ollie say down in the booth, shoulders slouched, mostly looking down at his plate. "Good, sir, er, I mean Jeff. Everyone here seems pretty nice."
"Well, I think this makes us even. You took responsibility for your mistake and made up for it. You should be proud of that."
"Yeah, ok, I guess," not looking up from the table.
"And I have to say, Ollie, I'm impressed not only that you showed up this morning, but that you really pulled your weight, finding stuff to do without waiting to be prompted. That's a sign that you're both smart and a hard worker. I'm very picky about who I invite to become a part of the team here, but you're definitely the type of person who would fit in here, and I've been looking to add another person to the crew here. What do you say? Would you be interested in sticking around here for a while?"
He looked up at me now, looking at me with wide eyes. "You mean like a job? After I tried to rob the place? You'd really want me around?"
My voice momentarily lodged in my throat as I gazed into his soft brown eyes. "Well, yeah. You demonstrated by your actions today that what I saw last night does not really represent who you are. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, particularly when they're in a tough spot. But I can see who you really are, and I like what I see. I need people like that on this team. So what do you say?"
"Ok, yeah, that would be good." Now his shoulders weren't quite so stooped over, and he sat up slightly as he ate.
"Excellent! We'll go down to my office later to do some paperwork and discuss the details. But now I have to hop over to a different topic. I called St. Bonnie's earlier to check in with Brother James. He said you were a fine guest, and they'd be happy to have you again should you need it. Unfortunately, though, he said they were contacted by a family of four getting evicted from their apartment today who may not have a place to go for a while, and they really need to offer them the room you stayed in. He said to let him know if you weren't able to figure anything else out, and they'd try their best to find something for you."
"Oh," he said, looking sad and a little worried. "I understand."
"Now hold on a minute. I said last night that I would have offered to let you stay at my place, but that I didn't think we had earned each other's trust quite yet. You definitely earned my trust today. Hopefully now that you've seen me in my element here, you can see that I'm probably not an axe murderer either. So, how about it? Would you want to stay at my place for now?"
He looked hesitant. "You'd really take ME in?"
"As you may have seen in action today, the most important thing to me is showing hospitality. That's why I left my old career and bought this place several years ago. And it's why, when I see someone temporarily down on their luck, I feel compelled to help. Not out of pity or charity, just because I feel like it's what I'm supposed to do. And as they say, there but for the grace of God go I. Besides, if all I have to do is give you a place to stay, and I get a good employee out of the deal, seems like a win-win to me."
Still seeming skeptical, as though reflexively suspicious of kindness, he eventually uttered agreement. "Uh, yeah, I guess. Um, thanks."
"Oh, and I should let you know, I have a habit of taking in cute strays. You'll meet Tom and Jerry when we get in. They're six-month-old kittens I rescued from the alleyway a couple months ago. I'm sure they'll like you. I hope you're not allergic to cats."
Ollie lifted his eyebrows and seemingly tensed up at the perceived subtext to my words, and then relaxed and gave a slight smile as I told him about the kittens. "No, not allergic. I used to have a cat. I like cats."
That smile of his might be the death of me. "Great, then it's settled. My condo is only a block away, so there won't be any excuses for you to be late to work! Now, let's go take care of that paperwork."
After we wrapped up the paperwork and set out a work schedule for him, I took him back upstairs, gathered the team, and let them all know Ollie would be joining us. Everyone gave him a warm welcome, while Phoebe let out a little giggle in my direction as I made the announcement.
Having wrapped up everything I needed to do for the day, I left the shop in the hands of my crew, and placing my hand on his strong young back, I reassuringly guided Ollie out the door to walk him down the street to my place. As we walked, I pushed aside the nagging voice in my head that I was being a silly middle-aged man pining for a straight teenage boy, convincing myself I was just rescuing a troubled kid. I gently put my arm around his firm shoulders and ushered Ollie in front of me through the front entrance to my building, letting him know I was on the top floor. He ascended the stairs with me following behind, climbing the eight half-flights of steps with the most incredible view of his tight buns framed by my favorite pair of basketball shorts. I struggled a bit with remembering to breathe, and had to adjust myself a time or two. I guess I forgot to mention to him there's an elevator.
TO BE CONTINUED...