Page 21 of Quit Playing Games with My Heart

“There you are,” Gilbert said as he strode into the office half an hour later, just as the café was opening. “Another night spent out wandering the streets, eh?” he asked, smirking at me as he approached his desk.

“Very funny,” I told him, glad for the distraction from doing payroll. “You know where I was.”

“I do,” Gilbert said, “and good for you.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I said with a laugh.

“Diccon isn’t too pleased that you’re monopolizing his best friend’s time, though,” Gilbert went on.

My stomach knotted. I wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not. “Did he say that to you?”

Gilbert had taken a seat at his computer, but glanced over his shoulder at me. “Really? Do you think that’s the kind of thing we sit around talking about?”

I relaxed a little. “No. Although I would pay good money to see the two of you painting your nails and doing each other’s hair as you gossiped about who likes who and whether they’re planning on going to prom together.”

Gilbert snickered and faced his computer again. “We’re all happy for you,” he said without looking at me. “You and Brian were always going to get together. Anyone with eyes could see that. And in case you were wondering, you don’t have to stay away from the house just because you’re all lovey-dovey and might get disgusting with each other.”

I laughed. “That’s not why we’ve been spending nights at Brian’s place. His roommate is a nurse who works nights, and it’s just, you know, easier to be there.”

Gilbert hummed, then went on with, “Yeah, because the walls at our house are only so thick. It’s bad enough that I have to listen to Diccon and Theo sometimes. I really don’t need to hear—” His teasing was cut off by a loud sound, almost like something huge falling over, from the other side of the wall, where construction was taking place. “What the hell?”

Gilbert shot to his feet and headed for the office door. I got up and followed him, concerned enough about the sound to want to know what it was and how much of a headache it would cause.

We marched past a line of customers at the counter that should have been much longer for that time of day and out the front door. Brian and Diccon both glanced up from their barista duties, Brian looking particularly worried. I wished there was something I could do to let him know everything would be okay, but until I knew that myself, I couldn’t comfort him.

Outside, the morning was shaping up to be a nice but hot one. There was already way too much humidity in the air, making it feel like my shirt would be sticking to my torso in no time if I stayed outside of the air conditioning. I didn’t envy anyone who had to work outside on a construction project in the early-September heat, but as soon as I saw the partially collapsed wall near the back of the site, I wasn’t particularly inclined to be forgiving of whatever was going on.

“What the hell happened here?” Gilbert demanded, stepping around the barrier at the edge of the site to approach Jameson, who was in a huddle with a few of his workers. “We heard that crash inside the café.”

Jameson glanced up and over at Gilbert with a wary look. “You need to stay on the other side of the barrier,” he called out. “Can’t you read the sign?” He pointed to a small, plastic sign affixed to the fencing enclosing the site.

I hung back a little, but Gilbert ignored him. “Fuck the sign. Did you just knock down a wall? Are you planning to destroy the entire strip before you do anything constructive in here?”

“The wall was already marked for demolition,” Jameson explained, scowling at Gilbert with far more intensity than I would have been comfortable with if it was directed at me. “It was part of an older structure and would have been in the way.”

“And how do we know that you’re not going to bring the entire building down with that wall?” Gilbert demanded.

“Because I’m a professional?” Jameson said, crossing his arms and staring hard at Gilbert.

His gesture was stern enough, but it was underscored by another section of the wall being knocked down by a small bulldozer. The crash was even louder standing so close to it, and I flinched as rubble hit the ground and spread, then took a step back.

“Gil, we really shouldn’t be in here,” I called out to my brother.

“I’m not going to stand by and let my café be damaged,” Gilbert shouted, more at Jameson than me.

I was about to charge in, grab my brother’s arm, and drag him physically out of the construction site when Brian came dashing out of the café. “What was that noise?” he asked, marching straight past the barrier and into the site. “Is everything okay?”

“Get the hell out of here!” Jameson shouted at Brian, even as he grabbed Gilbert’s arm to march him back toward the sidewalk. “God, can’t you people read?”

Brian flinched like Jameson had punched him and wheeled back. “Sorry,” he mumbled, then dashed back into the café like hell was chasing him.

I signed in exasperation. “You didn’t have to be such a jerk about that,” I told Jameson.

“This is a hardhat zone,” Jameson said, unrelentingly stern. “It’s dangerous. I don’t want fools like you jacking up the price of my liability insurance because you can’t obey a simple sign.” That much was directed at Gilbert.

Gilbert yanked away from him and followed me back onto the sidewalk. “You haven’t heard the end of this,” he said, pointing at Jameson. “There has to be some sort of ordinance against all the noise and mess you’re causing. So help me, if Common Grounds goes out of business because of you, you’ll never know another second of peace.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jameson said, turning away. “I’ve got work to do. See you at the ballpark.”