To You and Back

Chapter 8: "Keen"

Keenan Grant was at his desk, being the dutiful worker that morning from the time he got in, at eight, until ten o'clock. At ten, he swiveled around in his chair, got to his feet and made his way to the break room. When he left the breakroom, a few moments later, he was carrying his coffee mug. He made his way to the elevators, where he stood, tapping the black mug lightly on his thigh as he waited for the doors. Today, he was dressed in a blue suit with white grid pattern, a light blue shirt, and a black and white checkered tie that matched his socks, slightly visible above his polished black loafers. His brown hair was glossy and coifed back from his forehead, and the scruff on his face had been detailed to perfection to square out his jaw.

"Off to work your magic?" came a voice beside him.

Keenan turned to see his friend, Doug, a tall man with doughy skin, round glasses, white-blond hair, and a tattoo just visible above his collar when he turned a certain way. "It's already at work," Keenan said. "This morning he would have gotten a nice potted plant delivered to his desk."

"I would shoot you if you ever gave me something alive to take care of," Doug said.

Keenan laughed. "Which is exactly why I didn't. But Charlie loves plants, his dorm room was full of them. And none of them were for, ah, recreational use."

Doug chuckled. "So, you seem to like this guy."

Keenan shrugged. "I see his value. He's good people, steady, reliable, and not too bad on the eyes. I could see myself settling down with him."

"Don't go overboard with your declarations of love, now."

Keenan chuckled. "I'm realistic. I'm not the head-over-heels in love kind of guy."

"What if he is?"

"Well, then, that's where the magic comes in. I've got a plan."

Doug shook his head as the elevator doors opened. "You know the whole saying about making plans, right?"

Keenan laughed as he stepped into the elevators. "The person who said that never met one of my plans," he said. "It's foolproof."

The elevator doors closed, and Doug sighed. "Not when the fool is you, my friend," he murmured to himself, shaking his head.

**

Charlie was leaning against the counter in the breakroom, cup to his lips and eyes on his phone when there was a light tapping on the doorframe. Looking up, blue eyes widened. "Keenan!"

Coming into the otherwise empty area, the other man laughed. "You always sound so surprised when you see me," he said. "It's like you forget I exist."

Charlie laughed. "I'm sorry. I live in my own bubble. How are you?"

"Thirsty," Keenan said. "And I heard there was a dark roast up here to die for." He held up his mug. "May I?"

"Please," Charlie said, turning to let him at the coffee pot behind him. "Try it with the Italian creamer."

"You live well up here."

"Pet—Mr. Townsend spoils us."

Keenan poured a cup of the hot coffee, added the creamer, and took a sip. "Mmm," he said. "I may never leave now. Not that I want to," he added, with a special smile and look over the rim of his cup at the other man.

Charlie caught it and gave a breathy laugh. "You came all the way up here to give such a lame compliment?"

"I'm warming up, hold on."

"You've got to do better than that, Mr. Grant."

"Okay," Keenan said, with a laugh. "Then, did you get the present I sent you?"