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“Look, I’m not saying you should accept their offer, but if you keep dwelling on it you obviously want it.” Bones ate the cherries that were sitting in Jim’s cocktail. He was pestering Jim about accepting the owner’s offer of selling the shop to him. The thing was, Jim never owned anything in his life.
“I do want it. I really want it. I’m just not sure I could handle fully owning a business. I mean what I do right now isn’t going to be nearly as much as what I’ll be saddled with.”
He eyed a couple of people walking by. It was obvious by now the guy with the dark hair and golden eyes was walking by his booth on purpose. Jim watched as he made another pass through the hallway that lead from Rosewood down to Woody’s. Maybe if he felt like dancing tonight, he’d walk down that hallway too.
“Would you get your dick off the mind for one second and listen to me,” Bones grumbled. “Own it. Just fucking own it. You’ve done more for that shop than the owners have.”
“Other than entertaining your employees?”
“Other than entertaining my employees.”
“Fine. I’ll take the offer. Maybe I’ll get that total landscaping guy to help me out and make the store front a lot less….”
“Dirty? Slimy? More inviting of decent human beings rather than the scum,” he spat as the gold-eyed man walked by again, “that drops by that place?”
Jim was slightly distracted by the anonymous passerby to catch Bones’ resentment. “Yeah, uh. Excuse me.”
He got up from his booth and followed the man down the hallway.
“Asshole better be worth the quick fuck,” Bones finished his own drink as well as Jim’s.
Jim entered the front door of the landscaping place. Of his three years managing the porn shop next door he never once thought to visit his business neighbor. They’d talk once in a while at neighborhood meetings and if the weather got bad, but the landscaping guy was a bit too quiet for his taste.
He liked screamers.
Landscaping guy was definitely not a screamer.
The fuck was his name again?
Jim rang the bell that was sitting on the desk. A young man came out of the back room. Jim saw him before. Probably at Fergie’s.
“Hey is the owner here? I’m from one of the businesses next door and I wanted to talk to him about neighborhood beautification.”
The man looked a little bit surprised at the reason but he told Jim to hang on a moment. The response wasn’t entirely uncalled for, they were primarily in an industrial part of the city, but it couldn’t hurt to at least let people THINK they wanted to be there.
The owner came out to the front desk. The dark hair always made Jim’s breath hitch. He loved guys with dark hair. He really forgot how actually pretty the landscaping guy was.
And it didn’t even look like he was into landscaping.
“You’re next door at the porn shop, right?” He tilted his head. His employee forwarded what Jim said and he surely thought it was a joke.
“Yeah, I just took over ownership.” He scratched his head, a nervous tick of his, he really didn’t know what to do with his hands. “You’ve got the best looking place on the block.”
“To be expected from a landscaping company.”
Jim nodded, “right! And I was wondering if you wanted to team up with the rest of the neighborhood and make it look totally new and welcoming.”
“You do realize we are not in a neighborhood filled with fancy shops.”
“I do, yeah.”
“Your shop is the closest thing to retail and even that doesn’t show up on google maps.”
Jim blushed. This guy was starting to get him all flustered.
“Okay that’s true but my buddies across the street at the crematorium are up for a neighborhood revamp. And it’s not like I’m asking for you all to work on this for free. I’ll pay you.”
“I’ll consider.”
Rosewood again. Jim had his cranberry vodka and Bones had his whisky, neat. Tonight was some weird trance themed night, it brought out all sorts of characters.
“He wants to extensively go over what I had in mind.” Jim picked at his order of fries. “He told me that he wants to approach all the businesses separately for their ideas and then we’ll tie them altogether with the sidewalks and lighting and city property shit.”
“You barely listened to him, didn’t you?”
“Have you seen him? He’s fucking beautiful.”
“I have seen him and he’s too dry for my taste.”
“Ah Bones you don’t even know. I thought so too at first, but god damn get him talking and he just talks and talks and talks.”
Bones grabbed the fruit from Jim’s drink like he always did. “He’s fucking beautiful, I’ll tell you that. Do not, and I repeat, do not try to fuck him. I actually like this neighborhood beautification idea and it’s never gonna happen if you peg him.”
Jim slumped onto the table. “Oh my god his fingers are so slender and boney and it just reminds me of this book I saw on the shelf and-“
“Please stop.”
“You ever have fantasies about skeleton fucking?”
Bones grabbed Jim’s drink. “No more. You’ve had enough. Go back to thinking about your landscaping guy.”
Jim told him to drop by the shop.
Spock. That’s his name. Gotta be a pseudonym. Nickname. Something. Rude to ask really.
“Not what you were expecting, were you?”
Spock followed Jim through the aisles. “It looks like a typical library. If I didn’t know any better I would not suspect I’d be browsing a shop full of porn.”
“Perfect! That’s the vibe I was always going for. Tasteful, but nasty.”
“Tasteful but,” Spock blushed. “I-if it didn’t go against what we were trying to do, I’d suggest that as a tagline for your business’ signage.”
“Damn it!”
“I do think that the, uh, slogan could very well be reflective of your storefront. Right now this place looks like a dismal cement slab. Considering how ‘tasteful’ the interior decorating is, there would be no fault and no going against city regulations if you brought back some windows that the building originally had.”
Jim nodded. Yes, let’s turn this dismal slab of concrete into a less dismal slab of concrete, with windows!
“A proper patio. Fencing. I feel as though adding some trees on the property would work. Of course I’m giving you more suggestions than my business offers, but…”
Spock droned on. Jim listened to about half of it. Stripping the paint and restoring the brick. That was all fine, but what Jim really wanted was to imprint that voice of his. If he could do that then his more lonesome nights at the apartment would be a lot more exciting.
A masturbatory celebration of closing a deal with the landscaping guy.
Fergie’s this time. Jim was more in the mood for good Irish grub. Less of a chance to get distracted. He had to talk to Bones about serious matters.
“I’m gonna ask him.”
“Don’t ask him.”
“Why not?”
“You ask him out and he’s going to tell you ‘no’ and then we’ll never finish this landscaping business.”
Bones helped himself to Jim’s tomatoes. Fuckin Jim. He never ate his fruits or veggies. “And if he tells you ‘no’ then that means I’ll have no chance.”
“No he’s mine. I claim him. I claimed him four times last night.”
“Your hand claimed your own dick four times last night,” Bones frowned. “Get off your high horse, it won’t happen.”
Jim pulled out his phone. He had Spock’s personal number. Of course, it was probably for business only, but then again wouldn’t he just give him his business’s number instead?
Yo. Me + crematorium buddy r in City Center. Fergie’s. U should join.
40 minutes later and no response.
“Told ya. He ain’t worth pursuing. He’s not gonna be Spock to you. He’s just gonna be that landscaping guy.”
“Fucker should landscape me,” Jim pouted. He walked up to the bar and ordered another pint.
The neighborhood was shaping up nicely. Still industrial, but there was finally a touch of the human spirit to it. People didn’t mind driving down the road, and Jim’s business was flourishing because of it.
Hell, even Bones was finding that the project was bringing in more people to his business. Bones probably shouldn’t flaunt that he was excited about that.
“I talked to the guy over at The State Room and they’re seeing a huge response to the beautification. Jim, I hate to say it, but your idea turned out great.”
“Yeah, but Spock still doesn’t notice me.”
Bones clapped him on the back, “hey buddy. I told you not to. Now you’re miserable.”
The two were right outside of the crematorium. The work day about to begin. Jim kept looking across the street. It was time to be bold.
“No. I’m gonna persist.”
He ran across the street and into the parking lot.
Spock was hauling some seedlings into his pickup. The beginnings of some birch, a few pallets full of marigolds, and an assortment of topiary that was to be replanted.
“Hey, Spock.”
Spock jumped down from the flatbed, his hands covered in dirt. Oh Jim wished he’d get covered in dirt.
“Jim. What can I do for you?”
For one, he could stop ignoring Jim’s texts.
“You mad at me or something?”
“Er, no.”
“Oh. Cause you’re ignoring my texts.”
“I find your texts to be highly inappropriate.”
“Inviting you to hang out is inappropriate? It’s not even with just me, there’s Bones and then sometimes we’re out with all the other guys from around the neighborhood.”
“Jim, I don’t really enjoy social gatherings. I apologize.” Spock grabbed a clipboard and checked what inventory he had left to pack. “I should have been more forward with myself, I admit.”
“Well then I need to be more forward with you.” Jim set his bag down. “I’ll help you out. What do you need me to haul?”
“Jim, I can’t allow you to-“
“You know I’ve been trying to get to know you but you keep shutting me out. You wanna go out alone then, if you don’t like social gatherings? I know a place with 35 dollar Mac and cheese and it’s in an old house that’s poorly lit. There’s another spot in the historical district that makes everything like it’s back in the fucking 1790s. I’ll even relent to some shitty fast food and gelato. You don’t even have to fully acknowledge it, but I am literally begging you now to go on a date with me.”
Spock gripped his clipboard like it was the only thing keeping him together. It was his tiny little shield saving him from a barrage of fire from Jim as he paced before him.
“You know of a place that sells Mac and Cheese for 35 dollars?” He could go for some comfort food right about now. Maybe it was the man before him. He wasn’t sure. “Is it good?”
“I would never spend 35 dollars on fucking Mac and Cheese if it weren’t.”
“Alright then. I will accept your offer.”