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The only problem with moving up in the world was that it was utterly boring. When Claude had been a car salesman out on the floor, there was some sort of thrill to the job. Could he convince the next customer to buy something big and flashy? Could he nab them before Hilda or one of the other sales reps got them? Would he have to eat canned soup for the rest of the week?
Hell, even climbing his way to manager had at least been an entertaining game of cat and mouse as he taunted Lorenz into self-sabotaging. Now that he’d made it, though, all of that was gone. The only thing left was boring paperwork.
Utterly mind-blowingly boring paperwork. Claude twirled his pen and sighed as he looked up. Why he even bothered to wear the suit anymore, he didn’t know. Through the blinds, he spotted Hilda lounging on the waiting room’s sofa, no doubt taking an extra long break. Lorenz was chatting up a woman, trying to look smooth as he gestured at the BMW M3 beside him. He never realized how dorky he was instead. Maybe Claude could go bug him later; it was fun figuring out the ways Lorenz vied for his job.
A flash of red caught his eye and Claude perked up as a tall, red-headed man walked through the parking lot and to the entrance. Judging by his loose tie, messy hair, and dark sunglasses, he was either a spoiled, rich college boy or a more modest worker barely able to keep himself together. Either way, an easy mark.
That didn’t make Claude want to talk to him any less. Hurriedly, he got up and opened the door to the office. Fortunately, Lorenz’s hands were tied and he didn’t have to race him to the doors. The only one left was Hilda, and she never put up a fight.
Which, if he were honest, was a terrible quality for a sales rep, but she’d always managed her sales when she did try. Barely glancing at her as he passed, he informed her, “I’ll handle this.”
“Huh?” Curious, she glanced up from her phone at the door, then at him, and groaned. “Is it already that time of month?”
Claude ignored her grumblings as he smoothened out his jacket and tightened his tie. He had to look his best, after all. Running a hand through his hair, he glanced at his reflection on the hood of the Subaru BRZ. Yeah, he still had it.
The redhead stepped inside. Claude approached him with a grin. “Looking for a new car?”
The man laughed, bright and airy. “This is a dealership. Why else would I be here?”
Sure, put like that it was a silly question, but that was what small talk was: silly questions with silly answers. The insult rolled off his shoulders like water off a duck and Claude smirked. “Well, you could be here for the perks.”
“Like you?” The man leered, his green eyes sparkling as he played along. There was a barely restrained intelligence in there, one that Claude liked drawing out. He was certain his own expression was the exact same.
“I knew you had an eye for quality.” Claude winked, brushing his long hair back just enough that the stranger could see his golden earring. “Depending on the car you pick, I could be interested.”
“Gold-digger?” the man teased. As he shifted, his tie loosened slightly, just enough to give Claude a peek at his collar bones. It had to be on purpose. Claude refused to believe otherwise.
“I’m a salesman, can’t blame me for trying.” Claude leaned against the silver Chevrolet Corvette nearby, running his fingers along the edge. “Though, there’s just something about these higher-end models. They’re really…luxurious.”
“It’s that new car smell,” he agreed, coming closer. “Or those warm seats.”
Noticing the ring on the customer’s hand, Claude tapped his finger. “And the ring?”
“Removeable.” He waggled his brows, a gesture probably more comical than he’d intended. Ring still on, he finally held out his hand. “Sylvain.”
He smirked, finally reaching his objective. Shaking Sylvain’s hand firmly, he replied, “Claude. What sort of car are you after?”
“Something fast. Flashy.” Sylvain purred, his thumb stroking Claude’s thumb before reluctantly letting go. This close, Claude could smell the cologne on him, a refreshing scent that made him think of the sea after a storm. “Strong.”
“I think we have just what you’re after.” It was too soon to reach back, to twist Sylvain’s dark green tie around his brown wrist. A missed opportunity, one that Claude would have to correct later. “A new model came in the back. I know you’ll like it.”
“I think I already see something I like,” Sylvain murmured, resting his hands on the Chevrolet and caging Claude in. His eyes darkened and Claude mentally patted himself on the back for picking his earthy cologne this morning.
“Do you now?” Claude gently tugged on his collar, licking his lips. “I’m expecting a high commission.”
A wet rag hit Sylvain’s check with a squelchy splat. Sylvain blinked. Claude stared at him blankly. They both turned to the right to find Hilda standing next to the water cooler. Rolling her eyes, she huffed, “Do you guys have to do this every time?”
“What?” Sylvain whined, pulling off the rag as he straightened up. “Did that really deserve a wet rag?”
“Yes!” Hilda groaned, returning to the leather couch and plopping down on it. “If you’re going to give me a show, at least make it entertaining. Enough with the nerdy pick up lines! They’re so lame.”
“Lame?” Sylvain clutched his heart, mortally wounded.
Claude patted him gently on the back. “You’re just out of practice. It’s okay.”
“Yours weren’t any better,” Hilda pointed out. Wrinkling her nose, she bemoaned, “You guys are married, just save it for when you get home.”
“I thought the ring thing was sexy,” Sylvain muttered, slumping on Claude like a heavy, water-logged cloak. His chin rested comfortably on the nook of his shoulders. “And very creative.”
“Maybe we should both wear it next time?” Claude mused, reaching up to ruffle his husband’s hair affectionately.
“And what was that weird thing you did before you came out of the office?” Hilda shot him a disgusted look. “Did you just…set up the scene?”
Claude pursed his lips before slowly ambling off to his office, pulling his slumped over husband with him. “Right. Next time, I’ll just say that internally.”
“You’re both so fucking dramatic,” Hilda grumbled, lying on the couch dramatically.
There was a reason he liked her best.
As Claude closed the door to his office, Lorenz shouted from across the room, “CAN YOU PLEASE GIVE ME A WARNING NEXT TIME?”