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Davy

Master uses his regular name when in disguise, and I told the maître d’, “Reservations for Bryant,” when we stepped in the door. He asked if we wanted something on the patio or inside, and I told him, “The reservations were for inside at a window.”

He looked back down, nodded, and told someone a number, which I assumed was a table number.

We were walked to a table set for two right beside a window with a fantastic view of the ocean, and I waited for Master to sit and then motion for me to take my seat.

“I’ll order for us, Davy. That’s still my job.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Sometimes, Master has me look over the menu and tell him what looks good to me, other times he just orders for me, which is fine because he knows what I like and don’t like. Today, he ordered for me, all kinds of seafood and words I’d have had to look up.

“Thank you, Sir,” I told him when the waiter left.

“You’re welcome. In a proper relationship, everyone takes care of each other.” He looked at me a few seconds and I knew before he spoke, I wasn’t going to like what he said next. “You always refer to your exes as your first and second Master. For a variety of reasons, I don’t feel this is healthy. Without giving me enough information I can figure out who your first master was, please either give me his first name, or a nickname, if his first name isn’t terribly common.”

I stared at him a few seconds. I’d said my first Master’s name one time and he’d beaten me so badly I’d needed medical attention from the retired doctor he kept on retainer. I’d never even considered saying it again, but the idea of calling him by his name now seemed empowering. “Carlos, master. It’s a common name, but I assumed you’d had someone do a background check on me and you already knew who he is.”

Master shook his head. “I knew Drake Security would do one on you as part of their general threat assessment, both to make sure I didn’t need to be protected from you, and to get an idea of who might want to harm you. I trust Panda enough, I told him if there was something I needed to know to please share it with me. Otherwise, I wanted to get to know you organically.”

I just stared him, unsure of what to say. After a few moments, Master said, “In the interests of privacy, I’d like you to call your next Master by a nickname. DoesBeework for you?”

“We could stick with first names and call him Adam, Master. I was never allowed to use those names, so I guess it’s kind of a little empowering?”

“Okay then. Adam and Carlos.” He lowered his voice so I kind of had to read his lips to understand the next part. “I’m the only man you call Master from this point forward.”

I smiled and spoke as low as he had. “Absolutely, Master.”

And then Master stunned me, but in a good way, beyond my wildest hope. “I love you, Davy Jones.”

“I love you too, Will Bryant.”

Master looked at me a few seconds and then raised his hand towards a waiter and told him, “A bottle of 2004 Château d’Yquem Sauternes, please.”

Master looked to me when the waiter nodded. “Since you seem to only like dessert wines, this should be a special treat for both of us.”

“Thank you, Master.”

The first time he’d ordered wine for us in an expensive restaurant I’d taken a sip and handed it to him. It’d been soawful, something behind my back teeth had gone all sharp and stabby. Master hadn’t been pleased because it’d apparently been, like, thousands of dollars for the bottle, but then he’d ordered three glasses of three kinds of wine, and the one I’d liked made him laugh.

Master had bought a bottle of wine at a liquor store, and he’d said I should be belted for making him buy wine with a screw on top instead of a cork, but then he’d laughed when I’d thought it was the best wine he’d given me yet.

So, I assumed this was going to be an expensive wine I’d like, but it was clear instead of red, and so far, I’d mostly only liked red wines.

But then I took a drink and nearly swooned at the explosion of grapes and other flavors. It was the best wine I’d had yet, and I told Master so.

“It should be. Comes from special grapes only grown in France, affected by a fungus, I think, that practically turns the grapes into raisins, which means it takes that many more of them to make the wine, and the flavor is more concentrated. This’ll be a special occasion drink, though I may see about getting a case of it sent to the house from a different year. This particular vintage is known as their best.”

“It’s beyond good, Sir. Thank you.”

“I love you and you love me. The moment needs celebrating.”

“In the movies, they say stuff likeyou’re my everything, but I think that would be dangerous, Mas…” I kept going, hoping no one heard my almost-goof. “I wouldn’t want to be your everything because…” I shrugged. “This isn’t coming out right. The point is, I’m looking forward to redoing the contract because life means more with you in it. When I first moved into the tiny house, I wasn’t working much and it took effort to find things to do to fill my day, but then work picked up and I found my equilibrium. I enjoyed living alone, enjoyed going home and reading a book or watching stupid videos online.”

Wow, was I getting off track. “The point is, now I hate going home. I miss you. I miss being around your things.”