Page 9 of Lost Little Boy (Pride Camp 2025 #5)

Chapter Seven

Perry

As I took in the front of the fancy hotel, I realized immediately that I wouldn’t fit in.

I regretted agreeing to go with Wex for dinner because if that restaurant was a place he liked to go, then we had no reason to go to Pride Camp together.

It was dumb for me to ask him in the first place, and as I turned to Wex, I could see he’d reached the same conclusion.

“I’m sorry, Perry. I didn’t think… I’d hoped to impress you. I thought this place would… I don’t know what I thought. I’m sorry.”

He took my hand and led me out of the entrance. The valet had moved his fancy car to a space in front of the hotel. Wex walked over to the guy and spoke, handing him some money in exchange for the keys.

“There’s a chocolate souffle ordered for Grassley that they’re going to charge to my credit card. Go into the restaurant and tell them I gave it to you. Enjoy it, and thanks.” The guy smiled and gave Wex a nod.

Wex walked over and stood in front of me, taking my hand. “I know a great place that serves breakfast all day. Come on.”

No doubt, I had nothing in common with Wex, but his expression showed he was embarrassed about the fancy restaurant he’d tried to take me to. I didn’t want him to feel bad about the assumptions he’d made, so I followed him and got into his car.

I wasn’t sure what to say, but Wex filled the silence for me. “That’s the first time I’d ever been there, but I should have known if my parents liked the place, I wouldn’t. Next time I’ll read the reviews beforehand.”

He drove out to Springfield, an area I knew pretty well, and he took us to Dick this time I didn’t wait for Wex to open the door. I could do it myself. I wasn’t a kid.

After we were seated, Wex stared at me for a minute. “I’m sorry about that restaurant. I’ve gone to places like that before when I had clients to entertain, but I prefer simpler places. Honestly, I’m not that much of a French food fan.”

I could tell he wasn’t telling the truth.

“Sir, you didn’t have to take me anywhere.

You and me, we come from different worlds.

My father was a coal miner, and your father owns an international company.

Mr. Burger explained to me what Grassley Industries does not long after I started working there. ”

Wex rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced down at the table for a second. Our server came over with glasses of water. “What can I get you, gentlemen?” She had a nice smile.

I ordered the waffles with link sausage. Wex ordered a western omelet with bacon. When the server left, Wex gave me a smile. “If you’re from Tennessee, how’d you end up in northern Virginia?”

The only people who knew my story were those who played a part in it, and not all of them knew everything.

Why should I tell a guy I’d only met a month ago?

“A lot of bad luck.” I picked up my glass and took a healthy sip of water, signaling I wasn’t answering him any further. I didn’t need his pity.

“Ah. Close to the vest. I got it. So, uh, do you have any hobbies?” Wex pulled a few napkins from the stainless dispenser on the table, putting some in front of me and taking the rest for himself. It was a nice gesture.

Hobbies? I couldn’t share those with him, that was for sure. What adult did art projects, played with cars and blocks, and watched cartoons, unless they were playing with their kids?

“Don’t really have time for hobbies.” It was apparent the only way I could get him to stop prying into my life was to talk about his. “How about you? Do you have any hobbies?”

“Uh, well, I travel internationally a lot, but when I’m home—I live in New York—I like to play tennis.

I swim and work out, and I play soccer in an LGBTQIA+ league in Central Park during the summer.

Well, I play backup because I’m not always around, but the team always has someone out for summer vacation, so I get to play as much as I’d like.

” He seemed at ease talking about his life.

I didn’t know if I’d ever feel the same .

“I don’t know how to play soccer. I never learned.

” When I was young, I was too busy doing chores to do anything that was fun, plus, I didn’t go to a regular school—we were homeschooled.

I didn’t do any of the things other people did or at least what I imagined they did. Saying it to myself sounded pathetic.

“Really? I’m surprised. I thought all boys learned how to play soccer in school.

Well, it’s not that big a deal. I played basketball in high school, but I wasn’t good at it.

” He was so tall that it surprised me he wasn’t basically a pro.

But then again, what was it they said about stereotyping people?

I chuckled. “Obviously, basketball wasn’t my game either.” I was five six. I’d heard Nora say I was height challenged once when she had to reach for something on the top shelf of the cabinet for me. I didn’t appreciate hearing it.

“Eh, unless you’re seven feet tall and athletic, I don’t think it’s most people’s game—well, except Steph Curry of the Warriors, but the man’s a phenom.”

I had no idea who Steph Curry was, but I didn’t say so. I knew I was pitiful, and I didn’t keep up with pop culture, so fish out of water was a great way to describe me.

“Look, sir, you don’t have to make small talk with me. I don’t watch television often because we didn’t have one when I was growing up, and I only get to watch it now when my roommates aren’t around. I don’t follow sports, and I don’t have any friends. I’m what some call an odd duck.”

The server stepped over to the table with our plates, but my appetite was gone. “May I have that to go?”

“Where are you going?” Wex grabbed my wrist as I started to get up.

Our server, Maryellen, stared at me. “Are you in trouble? Do I need to call the cops?”

I glanced at Wex’s hand on my wrist and saw where Maryellen could have jumped to the wrong conclusion. “No. It’s fine. I’ll eat here.” I definitely didn’t want to get Wex in trouble because of a misunderstanding with our server.

“If you’re sure…” Maryellen put our plates down and studied Wex for a moment. “I’ve seen you in here before.” She reached into her apron and pulled out her phone, taking a picture of the two of us before she walked away.

“That sounded rather ominous, didn’t it?

I’m sorry for grabbing you, but this isn’t going the way I wanted it to go.

You’re a handsome guy, and I love that you had the guts to ask me to go to the camp with you.

I just wanted to get to know you. I wasn’t trying to poke around in your life and criticize.

If that’s what I did, I’m sorry.” He opened a paper napkin and draped it over his lap.

Now I felt like an ass. I took a napkin of my own and placed it in my lap before I picked up my knife and fork.

“No, you weren’t. I’m just touchy about my past. I didn’t grow up like most people.

After my father died, my mom fell into a deep depression.

My older sister and I were homeschooled before his death, and we were up to grade level, but when Mom didn’t file curriculum plans with the school district for the school year after his passing, a social worker showed up at our place and took all of us away.

I didn’t know a curriculum plan needed to be sent to the school district, so it was my fault we were taken away and then split up. ”

I glanced up to see Wex had stopped eating. Instead, he was studying me as I wolfed down my food. I put down my fork and knife and picked up the napkin to wipe the syrup from my lips.

“I’m sorry. I don’t tell people that story because I expect I’ll get the look that you have on your face right now.

I’m still alive. I went on to get my GED at sixteen instead of going to high school like the other boys at the home where I lived.

At eighteen, I graduated from the foster system, and I was on my own.

I’ve worked odd jobs and learned things, which is how I got the job at Grassley Industries.

I’m no charity case.” It sounded harsher than I’d intended, so instead of apologizing again, I picked up my fork and knife and finished my food.

Wex sat there, silent and unmoving. I cleaned my plate and pulled out my wallet. When Maryellen looked our way, I mimed signing a check to signal for the bill, and when she dropped it off, I saw she’d written a phone number on the bottom.

“Uh, is that your number?” I asked as I opened my wallet to pay the check. Aside from being in her fifties, she wasn’t what I was looking for in a date.

Wex gently put his hand over mine before he tossed a credit card on the table. Maryellen picked it up and stared at me. “It’s the number for the human trafficking hotline.”

I almost laughed that she’d think Wex was a trafficker. He appeared every bit the gentleman he was.

Wex walked me out to his car and opened the door. I got inside as he went around and entered on the driver’s side. He dropped the keys in the console and sat there staring through the windshield.

“I can take the bus. It’s not that far from here.” It was just after ten, and I knew the last bus that ran from that area to my complex was at eleven thirty.

“No, no. I’ll take you home. Can I ask you a question?” He turned to look at me .

“Sure.” Whether I’d answer was another matter.

“Have you seen your brothers and sisters since you were separated from them?” His voice was slow and steady.

“No. They wouldn’t tell me anything about where they ended up, or if they were together. The social worker only told me she was hopeful about keeping them together.”

Wex nodded and started the car to take me home. I took a twenty from my wallet and left it in the cupholder for my dinner before I got out of the car when we arrived at my complex. “Thanks. I don’t expect you to go with me to the Pride Camp. I don’t really want to go now, anyway.”

I slammed the door and went inside, assuming I’d never hear from Wex Grassley again. All I hoped was that he allowed me to keep my job.