Page 17 of A Matter of Fact

“I’m glad you’re here, though,” Rhys went on, either unaware or uncaring of how awkward Beckett felt in that moment.

“Oh? Why?” he asked, touching the edge of the paycheck tucked safely in his pocket. He could tell Rhys was rich, but there was a part of him that felt the thousand dollar tip had been too good to be true. Maybe he’d written an extra zero. Or two. Maybe he was there to try and correct the issue before it was too late.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since Sunday.”

Beckett’s spit lodged in his throat, and he tried his best to not choke on it. He felt his face heat as he sputtered, coughing and finally clearing his airway. Rhys just watched him, completely unworried by the whole display.

“Excuse me?” Beckett needed clarification.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since Sunday,” Rhys said again. Verbatim. “You were my waiter.”

“No, I remember you,” he said. “I just…what?”

“I was hoping you were working today,” Rhys said. “I wanted to see you again.”

“I’m not working.”

“But I’m seeing you anyway.” Rhys smiled, and Beckett felt off-balance. He had a feeling that was the position Rhys preferred him to be in, and he wanted to hate it, but wasn’t sure he did.

“Do you want to see me on the way to the bank?” he asked, fighting back the excitement he felt about being tracked down by a man with a credit card limit greater than all the money Beckett would ever make in his whole life. “I have to get this check deposited so I can pay rent.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“It’s just around the corner,” Beckett said. He was utterly thrown off by how cool and controlled Rhys seemed. It was as if he didn’t even know the definition of the term curve ball. Like he was prepared for anything and everything that could come his way.

“I don’t want to walk that far.”

Beckett scoffed. “You don’t have to, but I do.”

He set off out of the restaurant with Rhys hot on his heels. That black town car from Sunday idled near the curb, the driver leaning casually against the trunk, scrolling on his phone.

“My car is right here,” Rhys said.

“Is it yours?”

“For today.”

“I can walk.” Beckett pointed toward the corner.

The fact that a man who even dared to suggest taking a hired car to a destination two blocks away had fallen into step beside him was enough for him to pull his hand out of his pocket and pinch the inside of his arm to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

It hurt.

He winced.

He was awake.

“Look at you,” he said, raising a teasing brow. “Working legs and all.”

“These are two thousand dollar shoes,” Rhys commented, and Beckett looked down at his feet.

Rhys had on shoes that cost more than the entire paycheck Beckett had shoved into his pocket. They both reached the bank without exchanging any other words, and Rhys lingered outside while Beckett went into the branch. He deposited the check and managed get a money order for the two months of rent he owed Rob. He pulled out twenty bucks cash for groceries, and rejoined Rhys under the shade of a massive oak tree.

“Done?” Rhys asked, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

“I mean, with this. I have errands, though.”

Rhys sighed. “Are you walking to those as well?”