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I make a slight summoning gesture with my head.
He nods to acknowledge it, finishes the floor, puts up the mop, and comes over to my table, walking on the part of the floor that’s already dry.
“I messed this up,” I tell him, gesturing toward my laptop.
There’s a slight frown on his face as he draws up a chair next to me and pulls the laptop in front of him. I see his blue-gray eyes scan the screen. He makes a huffing sound.
“I’m not sure how I did it. I was trying to set it up so that the payments are split between the two people since they collaborate on the crafts and want their payments divided on our end, but I seem to have duplicated everything.”
“Why didn’t you ask me earlier?” His fingers are already moving over my keyboard, moving so fast it’s hard to track individual steps in his process.
“I don’t like to bug you for everything. You already did all the work to set up the site. I like to do stuff myself. I’m usually good at things.”
It’s true. I’m used to being able to figure out most tasks and problems and processes, and I can usually get the work done faster than anyone else.
“You don’t have to do everything yourself.” His eyes are still focused on the screen, and his tone is offhand. Almost lazy. “This will take me about two minutes.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Chase comes across as a slacker, and his demeanor is so often bland and distracted that strangers assume he’s either stoned or stupid.
He’s neither of those things. He’s brilliant—and not just with computers. But he’s never had any sort of drive, so he’ll probably never use his intellectual gifts for anything more than helping out his friends.
It’s a shame. Not for the first time do I feel a surge of frustration that he’s not doing more with his life.
But that’s the thing about knowing someone as long as I’ve known Chase. I’ve made every attempt to motivate him in the past, and he will simply not be moved. You’ve got to take him as he is or not at all.
After a minute or two, he slides my laptop back, and I smile as I see he’s got the site set up perfectly, exactly as I intended. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He gets up to roll the cleaning cart back into the kitchen.
I answer a couple more emails and then slide my laptop back into my bag. I wait as Chase closes up, securing the money from the register, turning off the machines, taking out the trash, and then locking up.
We walk out together as he locks the front door behind us.
When I stay until closing, we always walk home together. He only lives five blocks away from me.
We’re quiet for a few minutes as we walk through the downtown streets. I pull out my phone and check my messages. I was supposed to hear from Brian this evening about going out this weekend, but he never checked in.
It’s still fairly early though. He’ll probably text later tonight.
“No word from the boyfriend?” Chase asks in a leisurely drawl.
I slant him a quick look, but his expression is as relaxed and harmless as ever. “He’s probably working late.”
“Yeah.”
“We’re supposed to go out this weekend. He said he’ll take me into Charlotte and do something nice.”
“Got it.” He’s not looking at me.
I narrow my eyes. “Do you have something to say?”
He blinks. “About what?”
“About Brian? Lately it seems like you might have a problem with him.”
“If you’re happy with him, why would I have a problem?”
