Work Text:
“Ugh, please, David.”
Alexis is pacing back and forth at the front of the store, her handbag swaying limply from her shoulder. She stops in front of the register, hands folded together loosely, eyes pleading desperately with her brother. "Please?"
David holds an open tin of body butter up to his nose and sniffs loudly, annoyed. There are two more open tins strewn about the register. He had been in the middle of unpacking their new shipment when Alexis had stormed into the store in a frenzy, whining loudly about a school project.
“No, absolutely not. I will not be exploited like that in front of a group of high schoolers.” He gestures wildly with his empty hand.
Alexis tracks his movements with frustrated eyes and stomps her heel in frustration.
“Oh my God, no one’s exploiting you, David. It’s just a school project. And I really just don’t have anyone else to ask right now." She walks over to the display of tea and coffee and begins picking up the bags anxiously.
David raises his eyebrows indignantly. "Um, what about Dad? He's like the prime example of a business owner. And he's like 80 years old so he has a whole lifetime of knowledge to share.”
"Dad literally just got me in trouble for plagiarism.” She scowls.
“I could, uh… I could do it… if you really need someone?” Patrick chimes in from the back of the store. He takes a slow step forward, looking cautiously back and forth between the two siblings.
Alexis and David’s faces move in tandem. David’s head rears back while Alexis’ juts forward. Her eyes widen excitedly. David’s eyes narrow suspiciously. He holds out his hand toward Patrick, as if signaling for him to stop. Alexis brings her hand in toward her neck, playing absently with the "A" on her necklace.
They begin speaking simultaneously, and Patrick quirks his head slightly at the sound.
"Oh my God, yes, Patrick, that is so sweet of you --"
“-- Um, no... no, Patrick, that’s not… that’s not necessary.”
Patrick grins, his hands resting on his hips.
"No, really, I don't mind." He walks around the counter to the front and slides his hands casually into his pockets.
David throws him an incredulous look.
"It might, uh, it might even bring in more customers?" Patrick continues with a shrug. "I could promote the store a little bit -- you know… talk it up to those high schoolers."
“Mmkay, no, I don't need a group of teens hanging out outside our store every afternoon. That’s not the clientele we’re trying to attract. What would they even buy here?” He looks around. “Gum?"
“David, teens have notoriously bad skin and are always in need of good skincare products.” Alexis picks up a bottle of tea tree oil and shakes it in front of his face. “You should know.” She frowns sympathetically.
David glares at her. “Excuse me, I’ve always had clean, radiant skin.” He sets down the tin of body butter and storms off to the stockroom. He shuts the curtain behind him with so much force that it blows open on the other side, and for a brief second, Patrick can see David staring intently at a clipboard that he knows for a fact has nothing on it.
“So, Patrick,” Alexis turns to him, ignoring David’s dramatics. “My presentation is the last one for the day so you can just meet me at the school around 1:30. And then maybe we can get some coffee after? There’s this cute little coffee shop at the strip mall down the road.”
“Sounds good, Alexis,” Patrick says with a smile. “So when is this presentation?” He leans over and reaches for his phone behind the register.
“Oh, um, that would be... tomorrow,” she answers timidly.
Patrick blinks. “Tomorrow?”
“Yes.” She leans forward, her mouth curved downward into a guilty smile. “But, don’t worry, my class is super chill. Just, like, talk about the store... you know, how you got started, what the whole process is like. And then you can tell them all about numbers and money and profit margins and all that fun stuff.”
Patrick nods to himself and glances out the window behind her. “Okay, I can do that.”
“Oh, and maybe bring some, like, cute props or something.”
“Cute props?”
“Yeah, like, I don't know…" She looks around, smoothing out the ends of her hair with her fingers. "... the receipt from your first sale maybe.”
A look of recognition flashes across Patrick’s eyes. “Oh, the -- the receipt?” He glances nervously at the stockroom. “No, yeah, I think I threw that receipt out, actually. Yeah, I definitely don't have that anymore.”
"Um, okay… well, something else then,” she says, her attention already drifting elsewhere. She turns to leave. “So I’ll see you tomorrow.” She picks up a tube of moisturizer and tosses it into her purse. “And I’ll take this as a thank you.”
“Wait -- shouldn’t you be thanking me?” he calls out to her as she slips out through the door.
…
“What made me go into this business?” Patrick repeats slowly.
It’s not like the question is hard, and it certainly was not unexpected. Alexis had told him there’d be a question and answer portion. It’s just that there are thirty teenagers staring up at him, and for some unlucky reason he doesn’t have a clear, coherent answer like he normally does.
He runs a hand across his jaw.
Someone in the back row coughs indifferently and a girl in the front pushes her glasses up with her finger as she looks at something under her desk.
The early afternoon sun angles in through the windows, laying in thin sheets across the tiled floor of the classroom, and Patrick stares at the squares in front of him as he tries to focus his thoughts.
The girl with the glasses is texting blatantly now and Patrick shifts his feet impatiently. Her inattention somehow rattles him even more and he glances briefly at Jocelyn who gives him a sympathetic smile.
“Uh, well, you know, my partner just had a really good idea, and I saw a lot of potential in it. As an entrepreneur, you have to always be on the lookout for good business opportunities.”
There. Simple. A boring answer for a boring question.
He looks out the window and laughs silently to himself. If they were going to ask questions, they should at least ask the real ones. The important, hard-hitting ones. Like what does it sound like when you make your business partner laugh too hard from across the store? Or, what does it feel like when he brushes past you just a little too closely during closing? How often do you think about the small crinkle at the corner of his eyes or the arch of his eyebrow when he makes some kind of scathing remark? Do your fingers always long for the warm company of his hands?
“So is it hard working with someone you’re dating?”
Patrick’s mouth falls open. He doesn’t know who asked the question but the girl with the glasses is looking straight at him now.
“Wha -- I’m sorry, uh, someone I’m dating?” His voice is unusually squeaky. He looks down at the floor again and finally surrenders to his natural inclination to shove his hands in his pockets despite it going against everything he was taught about proper presentation etiquette.
”Yeah, you mentioned your partner?” So it was glasses girl.
“Oh -- uh, so I meant…” He tries to make his voice sound normal. “I meant, like, my business partner. He’s my business partner.” He sighs softly and leans back against the table behind him. He’s blushing absurdly, he thinks, in front of these high schoolers. In front of Alexis.
The girl simply nods and looks back down at her phone.
“What advice would you give to any students who want to open up their own store in the future?” The question comes from Jocelyn, warm and encouraging, and Patrick casts her a grateful smile.
“Well,” he starts, clearing his throat. “I would say, first of all, study hard in school. Pay attention in all your classes. Always be willing to learn and, most importantly, to work hard. Very hard. Owning your own business is not going to be easy.” He nods at the students, his confidence returning. “And, uh, trust your instincts,” he adds, just a little softer. “Don’t be afraid to take risks.”
...
“Well that was quite the presentation, Patrick,” Alexis says with a gentle lilt in her voice. She parks her suitcase beside her as she settles down into her chair.
They're sitting in the cute coffee shop around a wooden table two sizes too large and stained with a finish two shades too light. Drops of dried up coffee mix with the exposed grain of the wood like a miniature Jackson Pollock. It’s bright and airy inside, a stark contrast to the lone barista’s tired, cheerless attitude.
“So what did make you go into this business?” she asks, prying open the lid of her to-go coffee cup.
“I already explained that back at the school, Alexis.”
“Mmkay, no offense” -- she scrunches up her face -- “but your answer back there was about as convincing as Madonna's British accent.” She stirs her cappuccino and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
Patrick rolls his eyes and lets out a small laugh. He brings his cup of tea up to his lips and breathes in the warm, fruity aroma.
“So, like, when are you going to ask my brother out?” Alexis continues casually, blowing on her coffee.
Patrick sucks in the hot steam rising from his cup and coughs loudly. “I-I’m sorry?”
She takes a slow, cautious sip. “I’m assuming that’s the reason you got into the business.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Alexis.” His heart thuds in his ears but he quickly distracts himself with the cardboard sleeve around his cup.
“Okay, then, like, what are you doing?”
He rubs his thumb anxiously against the side of his cup. “Well first of all, the opening launch went really well. You saw, you were there. There’s a lot of potential in this store. I don’t think I need to keep justifying why it --”
“-- No, I mean, like, what are you doing here?” She points both index fingers down at their table then gestures up at the scene around them. “It’s your day off, probably your first one since the store opened, and yet you’re here with me, having just finished talking to a classroom full of whiny little high schoolers for 20 minutes all because -- what -- there’s potential in the store?”
“That’s right.” He shifts his gaze quickly to the left.
Alexis narrows her eyes. “So you’re saying, like, potentially, even if my brother wasn’t involved in this store, you would still be here right now?“
He looks down at Alexis’ suitcase, at the group of obnoxious, giggling teenagers to their left, at the young barista behind the counter popping her gum loudly enough for the entire cafe to hear.
“Yes,” Patrick contends with a level stare.
Alexis rests her chin in her right hand and stares back at him hard. Her lips are pursed, and maybe it was all the bright, natural light pouring in through the windows, but Patrick notices then with startling clarity that she and David have the same small, skeptical dent at the corner of their mouths.
He sighs, leaning back in his chair. “But,” he finally relents. “I do also have a crush on your brother, and I’d really like to ask him out sometime. I just don’t know how." His voice is calm but the sound of those words out loud seems to startle him momentarily.
Alexis tilts her chin up, beaming. “I have the perfect plan.”
…
Their drinks were half-empty by the time Patrick realized he hadn’t yet eaten any lunch.
“Alexis, where can you even rent a hot air balloon in Schitt’s Creek?” He smiles politely as the barista drops off his turkey panini. It’s served on what appears to be a tiny wooden cutting board and Patrick can’t help the look of confusion that passes over his face.
“Roland knows a guy.”
“And are you sure David’s not afraid of heights?”
“Yes, Patrick,” Alexis says, exasperated. “It’s cute that you’re so concerned, but he’s only afraid of moths and butterflies.”
He takes a bite of his food.
“Oh!” Alexis jumps in her seat, startling Patrick. “You could give him a gift.”
“A gift?” he says, mouth full.
“David loves gifts.”
He swallows. “Yeah, but on a first date? Isn’t that a little too… forward?”
“Carson Daly gave me a diamond infinity necklace on our first date.”
Patrick wrinkles his nose. “Carson Daly?”
Alexis rolls her eyes. “Yeah, it was -- David wanted tickets to TRL for his birthday, so I just went along with Carson one night to this -- wait." She pauses and reaches out to grab Patrick’s arm. "Oh my God, I think David’s birthday is coming up.”
“Really?” Patrick looks intrigued.
“Yeah, I don’t remember when exactly, but it’s definitely sometime this month. Or next month. Or maybe it was last month.”
He nods and takes another bite of his panini, chewing slowly, deep in thought. His eyes are fixed on the specks of dried up espresso on the table. They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes.
“You know, this is all so out of my wheelhouse,” he finally says with a pronounced shake of his head. He rubs a napkin along the edges of his mouth. “I think I’m just going to go with something small.”
“Mmkay, small is never good, Patrick,” Alexis says with a crinkle in her nose. “And you asked for my help,” she practically whines.
“I know, Alexis. And I really appreciate your suggestions so far. Especially the, uh, redeye flight to Kyoto.” His browline creases and he takes a sip of his tea to wash down his food. “But after listening to all your ideas -- which are great -- I’m realizing this is all just… a little too much for me.”
“Are you saying David’s not worth all that?” She tilts her head slightly and Patrick doesn’t know how to read the expression on her face.
“No -- no, I’m not saying --” He hitches his shoulders and sighs. “Of course David’s worth that… all of that,” he states quietly. “But hearing you talk about all these big ideas… I just think the biggest thing I can do for him is to just tell him how I feel,” he says simply. There’s a familiar, determined glint in his eyes. “Don’t you think?”
Alexis blinks at him. She raises her eyebrows, about to speak, but she’s soon left speechless. Years of dating had taken her on long trips around the world but never once had she thought of taking the shortest way home.
“I think you might be right.” She seems almost confused by her own words.
"There's a lot riding on this,” he continues. “You know, we work together -- hell, we own a business together. And so this might be the biggest risk I can take. But, your brother…” he trails off and lapses into silence for a second. “I've never been so sure of anything in my life.”
A glimmer of a smile tugs at Alexis’ lips. She lowers her eyes. “You know, Patrick, this is the first time I’m sure you’re not actually talking about the store.”
He nods, smiling.
"And you know what else?” She tilts her head playfully to the side and gently pokes his arm. “I think you’ve got this. I don't think you need my help after all."
“Thank you,” he says with a soft chuckle.
"Although you might want to get, like, a nice jacket or something, because this” -- she waves her hand up and down -- “looks a little too future MBAs of North America, especially for David’s liking.“
Patrick suddenly sits up straighter and looks out toward the parking lot.
“Actually, I have something in the car right now.” He gets up and brushes a few breadcrumbs off his pants. “I didn’t know how dressed up I was supposed to be for this presentation, so I brought a jacket just in case.” He taps his fingers against the table excitedly before walking toward the door.
As Patrick pulls his jacket out of his car, he realizes, at that moment, just how fully-formed the idea of David is in his mind. The thought of asking him out on a date, telling him exactly how he feels. He had been turning it over and over in his mind for weeks, picking at it until it took shape, nearly tripping over the weight of it today at the school, and now all of a sudden here it is, as real and as certain as the dark blue fabric between his fingers.
Alexis is texting on her phone when Patrick returns from his car.
"So, does this pass muster?" He stands in front of her, his arms raised at his side. He’s tempted to do a spin, but he locks eyes briefly with the angsty teenager at the table next to them and changes his mind.
"What?” Alexis looks up from her phone and then glances around the table. “Where?”
"What?"
"You just said to pass the mustard."
"No… I said pass muster."
“Yeah, where? I don’t see any.” She waves her hand over the few condiments in front of them.
“Alexis, m-u-s-t-e-r.”
“Ugh, okay, I know how to spell mustard, Patrick.” She flips her hair behind her shoulder and resumes her texting. “You’ll probably just have to ask that girl for some.”
Patrick sits back down.
“But anyway, don’t you look cute in that little jacket?” she says with a smile once she’s finished with her phone. She reaches across the table to poke him lightly on the chest.
Patrick blushes a little. “Thanks,” he mumbles, a bit shy all of a sudden. “Alexis,” he says. “You’re not, uh, you’re not going to tell David about all this, right?”
"Of course not.” She attempts a wink. "Not yet anyway.”
He forces out a laugh to fill the extra beat between them.
"Oh my God, Patrick, I’m kidding. Relax. David likes you, okay?” Her eyes are wide and bright. “I know it might not seem like it because of his dry humor and he's always doing that thing with his face. But trust me. I can tell." She smiles warmly. “He likes you.”
Patrick shakes his head with a laugh. His jacket feels a little too snug in his shoulders. "God, this is all so high school."
It’s a little later in the afternoon now, the sun a little lower in the sky, its golden light dappling the coffee-stained table in front of them.
"Yeah,” Alexis grins and looks around at the teenagers next to them. They’re packing up their bags to leave. “But don't worry, graduation’s this Friday, and I hear summer’s going to be a total blast.”