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“That asshole!” Honey, one of the bakers, swore before pulling out his phone. He dialed someone, and my brows shot up when I realized who he was calling.
“Yo, bossman. You gave Dane his last strike already, right?”
Honey nodded at whatever Brady said before shooting me a smile and a wink.
“Well, guess what? He overstayed his welcome. You might wanna kick him out now. I don’t think Kase will mind when you tell her what he did.”
Whatever Brady said had Honey shaking his head. “I’ll tell you once you’re here. Are you upstairs? Yeah, okay.”
Honey ended the call before giving me a thumbs up. “Don’t worry, Charlie. We never tolerate any kind of hate here. The only reason that bastard got a job is Brady’s love for Kasey. He’d already been planning on firing the man, so it’s no big deal, okay?”
I nodded, kinda stumped at how quickly everything had happened, and turned back to my work station.
Fifteen minutes later, I was almost done with my shift when Brady walked in. “All right, Dane’s out. Remind me to put in a notice for another barista at Voice Out. And kick me if I ever try to hire someone like him again.”
Sarah, a petite woman who made the best cupcakes, laughed as she gave Brady a peck on the cheek. “Don’t worry, sweetie. It wasn’t your fault.”
Brady shot her a smile before his eyes fell on me, and his smile widened as he walked toward me. “So, what did Dane do, exactly? I just fired him because you told me to, Honey.”
I smiled at his trust in his employees and at their trust in him to know that he would always look out for them and do what’s best for them.
“Er…he…well…” Honey stuttered, and I waved him off as I turned to Brady.
“He called me a fucking fairy,” I told him with a shrug. Yes, it had hurt. But I also knew it said more about Dane than it did about me.
Brady’s eyes narrowed, and I could almost see the anger wafting off of him as I pulled him closer. He was tense, his muscles all bunched up as he tried to control his fury. I rubbed his back in an attempt to calm him as I spoke. “Don’t worry, babe. I know better than to listen to his bullshit, and so do you, right?”
Slowly, Brady melted in my arms, and I pulled him closer, breathing in his familiar, fruity scent. I knew I was all oily and sweaty, but I couldn’t stop myself from giving him a tight hug. I pulled away reluctantly, and his smile told me he knew that.
“I’ll be at yours in thirty minutes or so?” Brady offered, and I smiled.
“I’ll take Cherry with me.”
“Perfect.”
My phone started buzzing just as I stepped out into the living room after a refreshing shower, and I smiled when I saw my brother’s name on the screen, even as my heart stuttered with the usual panic. I wanted to tell him everything, but I just couldn’t get the words out. I picked up the call as I walked into the kitchen, Cherry trailing after me with her head held high and her tongue lolling sideways out of her mouth. “Hey, brother, it’s been a while.”
“Charles, what is this on your Facebook?” Lawrence asked me without preamble, and I cringed at the name. It had been so long since someone had called me that, and I couldn’t believe how wrong it felt now. How had I managed to keep that name for thirty years?
“What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to ignore how much the use of my deadname had affected me.
“The pictures on your Facebook, Charles! What kind of clothes are you wearing?” Lawrence sounded horrified, and even as I realized what he was talking about, the disgust in his voice dug into me like a knife. I’d been right to be afraid to come out to him, it seemed.
I steeled myself for whatever horrible things he’d say next as I spoke, “That—this is the real me, Law. I’m genderfluid. I never told anyone because I was scared of losing you and Dad, but I couldn’t hide anymore.”
“Who is that man with you? Is he the one who pulled you into this shit?” he demanded, his voice hard, and I closed my eyes as I leaned against the doorway.
“No, he is…my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” The word was shouted so loudly that I had to pull the phone away from my ear. This was going horribly.
“Yes, he’s my boyfriend.”
“And you want me to be okay with this? With my brother being…whatever it is you said and having a boyfriend?”
“Yes, I hope so, at least. I don’t want to lose you,” I whispered, my throat clogging up because I knew—I could feel it, what he was about to say.
“Well, then maybe you should’ve thought of that before you decided to dress like a fucking sissy.”
