Candyman

Chapter 3 - Love So Soft

You wanted to stay. You really did. You wanted to keep drinking the wine, letting the sun fall behind you. You wanted to keep hearing about Brooklyn and arguing why Chicago was better (obviously.) You wanted time to stop.

Until your watch tapped you on your wrist with a message: "It's time to go to bed to get 8 hours of sleep."

Shit.

Work.

Steve insisted on having Thomas bring you back, even though you tried to tell him an Uber would be easier. It really didn't make sense to have the poor man drive you all the way back to the city only to have to come back out to the suburbs. But Steve wouldn't hear it.

"Ah, I almost forgot," he said as he fished a long white envelope from one of the kitchen drawers. He placed it on the island in front of you, laying a $100 bill on top of it, "And your tip, for a job well done."

Benjamin Franklin's dead eyes stared into your face from the countertop.

Alarms went off in your head. $100 was way too much money for the work you had done. But there was still the side of you want knew that you could have used an extra $100 right now. "No, Steve, don't worry about it. Dinner was more than enough thanks," and you slid the envelope back towards him.

"This isn't a thanks," he started, his voice having a hardness to it that hadn't been there before, "If there's one thing you need to know about me it's that I pay well for people who do their job well. You figured out the issue, fixed it, and it took less time than I thought it would. That level of service deserves adequate payment, plus a little more for next time."

Well, at least no one could say that you hadn't tried to give the money back. Your hand slowly slipped the envelope back towards yourself and you stuffed it into your bag for safekeeping. A smirk finally cracked across his lips as he watched you.

"Next time?" you asked softly, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"Go, Thomas has been waiting for you and he would like to get back home before 1 in the morning," and he placed a gentle palm on the small of your back, ignoring your question and bringing you back to the same door you came in through. The whole thing was so rushed you barely heard him say that he would call you when he needed you again. Before you knew it, you were back in the back of the car and Thomas was on the road.

No kiss goodnight.

Not even a hug.

When he needed you again?

For what? He obviously knew you could fix networking issues and probably guessed from your job that you could do computers, but how much technology did he need to get fixed? Maybe he thought that if he kept buying you dinner, then he didn't have to come all the way into the city and make an appointment when he needed tech support? The thought of that made you a bit uneasy. This really was a one-time thing. No matter how rich or attractive Steve was, you still wouldn't put your job on the line to help him. No, he would have to be a regular customer, just like everyone else.

**************************

The alarm went off way too early, a far cry from the day before when you pampered yourself. You checked your phone out of habit and found nothing but the same junk emails and random app notifications. Nothing from him. Not that you expected there to be, but the thought still itched in your brain as you got ready for work. Why did you want him to text you so badly? What would he have to text about anyway? You did a job, you drank his wine, he paid you. Transaction complete. There was no need for any sort of follow up communication.