This Charming Man

Sixteen

In an attempt to avoid Ryan questioning me further, I offered to help Jon at the bar for the evening. Mr Wentz, surprised by the fact I was actually volunteering to do work for once, happily agreed and I spent most of the evening learning how to make cocktails and names of different drinks. Jon made everything so professionally; it was a real wonder that he still bothered with this place. I told him he could do so much better somewhere in a city and he laughed.

"Brendon, I couldn't leave this place even if I wanted to."

Before I could ask him what he meant, one of the waitresses I recognised to be a girl called Rachel, who I'd nearly asked out on a date when I'd first started working here but was too shy, tapped on the desk.

"Mr Wentz wants to see you, Brendon," she said.

My heart stopped and I froze on the spot. Jon smiled at here, completely unaware.

"Alright, thanks, Rachel."

He went on to ask her something or other and I stayed perfectly still. Fuck fuck fuck, I thought, he's found, he's gonna kill me, this is the end.

"Brendon?"

My head snapped up and I blinked at him, my eyes unintentionally widened. "Y-yeah?"

"Brendon, are you okay?" Jon asked, his head tilted slightly.

I nodded quickly. "Y-yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I said.

Jon raised his eyebrows. "Your hands are shaking, Brendon."

I blinked and looked down, quickly balling my hands into fists and tried to grin convincingly at him. "I'm fine, really. I-I'd better go. Thanks, Jon."

"No problem. See you later, Brendon," he smiled and lifted the hatch on the bar to let me out.

I waved awkwardly and left the bar. The reception was quiet, as it usually was this time of night, and Mr Wentz was at his usual place behind the desk. He was hunched over, scribbling into his reception book and he looked up when he heard me stumble in. The look on his face gave me a brief moment of complete terror but it disappeared almost as fast as it had appeared when he spoke.

"Mr Weekes wants you," Mr Wentz said and looked back down.

I blinked at him. "I... Is that all?"

Mr Wentz looked up again and frowned. He looked me up and down, a slight hint of confusion on his face. "Yes. Now go on," he said, waving his hand dismissively. I left immediately and nearly cheered as I ran up the stairs and along the corridors to Mr Weekes' room. I knocked on his door and played with my hands while I waited. I looked around just in case Ryan was about and heard Mr Weekes call from inside.

"Come in!"

I opened the door and smiled when I saw Mr Weekes. He was lying back on his bed reading a book, his hand rested on his chest, his glasses propped at the end of his nose. Next to him on the bed side table, an old gramophone was playing a scratchy but rather pleasant song and Mr Weekes sat up and smiled when he saw me. He put his book down and turned the gramophone down.

"Get into much trouble?" he asked.

I closed the door behind me and shook my head, grinning. "Nope! No trouble at all! He didn't even know I was gone," I said.

Mr Weekes chuckled. "Oh that's excellent."

There was a brief awkward pause before I nervously spoke up, "So uh... What did you want, Mr Weekes?" I asked.

Mr Weekes' lips spread into a devilish grin and said, "I wanted to try something." He lifted his hand and gestured to for me to join him. "Come here please, Brendon."