A New Life Under Desert Skies

Chapter 5: Realization

"We are short-staffed today, so we're both going to have to work the floor. I expect you to pick up the slack and still get your regular duties finished." Dominic tied the white apron around his waist and shot Clint a glare. "And make sure the staff cleans up properly before they leave! I found a used rag hanging on the wash sink when I got in this morning. I don't employ lazy people."

Clint swallowed the annoyance that threatened to come out and nodded his head. "Sure thing, Boss. I'll head out front now and make sure we're ready for open." He hurried through the door before Dominic could say anything else, already feeling a headache starting to form behind his eyes.

He was so confused about his boss. Dominic looked so much like his childhood best friend by the same name, but that Dominic would have taken a bullet for him. At least, that's what he had always said. This guy seemed to have it out for Clint and it hadn't even been a week. Yesterday they'd run out of chopped lettuce and Dominic had threatened to fire him. Today it was a dirty rag.

Today was going to be a perfect shift, though. He was dead-set on giving Dominic nothing to complain about. And so, he grabbed his notepad and most pleasant smile, and unlocked the doors.

To his delight, he recognized the first arrivals of the day. "Ah, the Mendozas! Welcome back. You're the first ones here, so would you like your usual table by the window?" The elderly couple nodded, and the husband, Hector, shook Clint's hand brightly.

"Good morning to you, Mr. Wilhelm! How are you today? Did you find that book I told you about?"

Clint chuckled and returned the handshake, nodding as he led the couple to their table. "I'm doing great! And yes, I did. They did happen to have it available at the library! I haven't had time to finish it yet, but I'm really liking it so far. Especially the little jokes by the narrator's voice. Let me grab you some waters and I'll be right back for your orders."

He hurried into the back to grab the water, pausing briefly to greet a few other regulars he was working on getting to know. It wasn't something Dominic had expressly asked him to do, but Clint figured that was a common part of food service jobs like this. So if he was going to impress his boss...it was a good place to start.

And why did he want to impress his boss? The reason was two-fold: firstly, finding a new job sucks. He had spent hours at the library after work chasing an escape from Dominic, but hadn't managed to get so much as an interview. And secondly, he was actually growing attached to the people and the atmosphere in the restaurant. If he didn't manage to keep the boss happy, Clint worried he really would carry out his constant threat of firing him.

Having no job at all was the ultimate fear.

The rest of his coworkers were far less difficult to win over. "Hey Clint! Glad to see you're in charge today," Marcus said as he arrived for his shift at 2pm. "Things always feel a little less depressing than when the big boss is leading the shift."

"Don't say that too loud," Clint chuckled. "We're short today, so Dominic is here too. Last I saw him, he was in the back with the cooks. Glad that someone is happy to see me around, though." He clapped Marcus on the shoulder and headed back to his tables with checks in hand.

"Everyone is happy when you're around, bro. Just don't let it go to your head."

Yeah, right. Everyone except the man who decides if I keep my paycheck or not, Clint grumbled to himself. His coworker's choice of words was interesting, too. Depressing? He could understand 'stressful' or 'anxiety-inducing,' but he didn't feel depressed around Dominic.

He dropped off the checks and gathered up a tray of dirty dishes to take them back to the kitchen, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of job hunting and his conversation with Marcus. Too preoccupied, apparently, because he didn't see the man scooting his chair out until his foot hooked on the leg and down he went, the tray of dishes falling all around him.

Clint lay there on the floor for a moment while his consciousness caught up with what had just happened. Before he could stand back up, the kitchen door opened and Dominic stepped out.

"What happened? Is everyone alright?" His green eyes scanned the room until they settled on Clint and the pile of dishes on the floor. His tone immediately changed from concern to anger. "Wilhelm! What in the hell did you do? Clean that mess up and get to my office, now!"

Marcus rushed over and grabbed Clint's hand, helping him back to his feet. "I'll grab the broom. You pick up the unbroken dishes and get them back to the kitchen." He smiled at Clint and began cleaning up the mess. Thankfully only a couple of glasses and a plate had broken, so it was a quick clean-up.

So much for giving Dominic nothing to complain about today, Clint thought. He knocked on the open office door before walking in. Dominic was sitting in the chair in the corner again, his face furious as he scrolled through something on his phone. "We got everything cleaned up, Boss. Just a minor mishap."

Dominic set his phone face-down on the desk and rose to his full height, pointing at the other chair. Clint obeyed hastily, sitting down and placing his hands in his pockets. Dominic came within a half-pace of Clint and pushed a finger into his chest. "Minor, you say? I walked out to find my assistant manager on the floor, surrounded by broken dishes. The entire restaurant was staring. I don't call that minor! Are you such an idiot that you can't even manage to stay on your feet? I was skeptical that the staffing agency could find me a decent assistant, and you're proving me right."

"It was just a simple accident, Dominic. One of the customers pushed his chair away from the table as I walked by. I'm not injured, none of the customers are injured, and we only lost a couple of cups and a plate. If I have to pay for them, fine. But there's no reason to call me an idiot." Clint felt his blood pressure rising, and his temper as well. He'd inherited the red-head spirit to go with his hair and it was fighting to get out.

Dominic's face darkened further and he locked eyes with Clint. "That's Mr. Hasborn to you, Wilhelm. And I'll stop calling you an idiot the day you stop being one. Now get out of my office and back to work before we get backed up. And I don't want any more trouble from you today!"

Clint breathed through the fight he wanted to wage, instead noticing the way the lights reflected in Dominic's eyes and how the hair near his ear made a perfect half-ringlet curl. Why the hell was he noticing things like that?

"Sure thing, Mr. Hasborn." It wasn't until he spoke the words that realization washed over him like a cold stream, extinguishing the fire within. Dominic Hasborn? This was his childhood best friend! His lips parted to share his revelation, only for his brain to re-engage just in time.

He couldn't blow his cover. Dominic Hasborn was Chase Samuelson's childhood best friend, not Clint's. And Chase Samuelson was dead. Grief suddenly took hold of his heart and Clint rushed out of the office, blinking fast as he fought down emotions that he'd ignored from the moment he learned his old life was over.

The rest of his shift passed slowly, but without further (outward) event. Yet a fountain of repressed and forgotten emotions erupted every time his concentration lapsed. As an adult, he was finally able to put a name to an emotion which had been a mystery at the age of 10: love. He'd been in love with Dominic, but wasn't old enough to understand love wasn't always between a man and a woman.

The smile on Clint's face was a lie, but he kept it pasted there because maintaining a lie was easier than anyone asking for the truth. The truth being the aching, stabbing pain of reuniting with someone that used to be dear to him, who seemed intent on treating him like yesterday's spoiled milk.