Bills started to show up, and I needed to get a job at any cost. In the first two months somehow, I managed, but not anymore; my dad was not of any use, and my mom had not accepted the reality. If I didn't get a job by this month, I couldn't pay any bills and couldn't purchase groceries.
While I was passing the street, I saw a signboard saying that they were hiring a waiter. One of the things I learned so far was not to show my certificate, which would result in instant rejection by declaring I am overqualified. Whatever the pay scale, I fucking don't care; I need to get this job at any cost; it would cover something.
It was a small restaurant run by 'David Malcolm', who was a handsome playboy. An image was written all over him from the time I sat in front of him to give an interview. His eyes were roaming everywhere, other than meeting my eyes. I was pretty sure I got this job and needed to deal with this guy subtly. A wrong move ends up losing the job, and a right move ends up in his bed. This is going to be bloody fun to work with.
After reaching home, I informed my parents, and as expected, they were disappointed. My mom ran toward the room like hell. I would give a dam to any of this.
The next day I went to work with a broad smile. It was my second job, and I was as enthusiastic as I was in my first one. This job was nothing, but it felt like everything as I got this job at a subtle time.
I entered the restaurant; it was a weekday and not busy. David welcomed me with a hug that went on for, like, a minute. Let me step in properly. You have a lot of time for everything, 'Mr.', which I didn't dare to say louder. He introduced me to the remaining staff. David was playing a role in everything: 2 chefs, including David, 2 waiters, including me, and in the cleaning part, everyone needed to take a turn every week. He couldn't hire a cleaner as it didn't fit his budget, and I was okay with everything.
He asked me about my cooking skills, and I totally lacked in that area. I don't know anything about cooking and I have not even prepared the instant Maggie till now. Without hiding, I told him the truth. I really didn't want to impress him enough to keep this job because pretty much I was sure he wouldn't kick me out well, not so soon, and as it was restaurant food meant 'Goodwill' so I didn't want to play by jeopardizing his reputation. He was ok with that, and he would start teaching me a few recipes, which may come in handy shortly. It was his reason, with a mischievous smile on his face, this guy wouldn't let pass on any opportunity without flirting with me.
I was not making any big deal out of it, as it was my first day, and he seemed harmless, clearly showing his intentions, but I didn't think he was going to cross the limit or force me to do anything I strongly hoped for.
The first day was good. David didn't let me do anything and told me to observe everything, and I obliged. In time, I was getting food and beverages. The food was tasty. Oh god, it was months before I had tasty food. I couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to impress me or if, for every new employee, his treatment would be the same rather than dwelling. I enjoyed my time until the evening with a smile.
When David introduced me to everyone, they recognized me instantly but didn't question anything. On the other hand, David was neutral when we met yesterday; there was no change in his expression or any astonishment about whether he recognized me or not. I was not getting anything; I was only getting friendly, casual, and flirtatious behavior. At this point, nothing matters; I needed a job, and I got one. I should survive in this one, at least for a few months.
After reaching home, I saw my parents, who were still gloomy and lost every hope of getting back to their previous lives. One more easily noticeable change was that both were looking 'aged'. Yeah, both were 50+, but they were 50+ when they were leading a rich life. How the hell does it seem so old once they start leading the current life? Being rich masks out everything and being poor dugs out a lot of things.
I made my way to my room. After getting freshened up, I came to have dinner. We started having it in silence, no words required to express what they were going through, still stuck in their old world, and I didn't want to do anything, neither to console them nor to give false hope that everything would be ok, which wouldn't be, not forever. The only thing I could do as a son was look after them, provide food, and see to it that they were covered properly, not by branded clothes. Beyond this, I didn't want to do anything else. After the lousy dinner, I made my way to the room. Food prepared by my mom was stuck in my throat; this only happens if I just swallowed. David was an awesome cook compared to my mom.
It's been 15 days since I started working. First, two days while taking orders, a few customers recognized me and bombarded me with questions, which I politely rejected. I tried my best to divert their questions to the menu, but they were persistent. At this point, David was really helpful, as he took care of everything. Because of this, I was assigned to clean the area. He told me to do this work for days or months till the news faded away, and yet he didn't question me. Any normal person would be curious, but he was not. I felt once again grateful for him minding his own business.
David started to cover the area where I lacked, which was cooking. The first thing he taught me was how to prepare black coffee, which was damn fucking easy again. I took my own time to learn. As I said, I didn't know anything about cooking. More than me, David was enjoying the cooking session, as he was getting an 'N' number of reasons to touch me for flirting and to pass on his signal. Without wasting a second, I ignored everything; he had not crossed his limit, so it was harmless; he was a bloody gentleman in flirting too, which was new and crazy.
As we became closer, David started sharing about his past, his boyfriend's stuff, flings, his family, his one-night stands, and whatnot; he was the most talkative guy I have come across. 90% of the talking was done by him, and rarely would I input my opinion, or else I was a good listener. David had shared so many things, both relevant and irrelevant, but at least once, it never crossed my mind to share something with him. I couldn't open up like him; nothing was easy. The only thing I was good at was bottling up everything and keeping it safe.