The Sheikh's Rebel (gay) ☑️

5. Who's the Boss?

Five minutes to nine, Tyler got off his bike. He looked at the building where the veterinary practice would be located. The two-story building had previously been used as a community centre. It had been empty for a few years and looked completely dilapidated from the outside. Special about this building was its corner location and the associated land. Tyler wondered why the building wasn't just demolished to create a modern practice?

That feeling only grew stronger upon entering. People were busy everywhere. The room was full of small white lime particles. Tyler, who walked to the back undetected, was now better able to place Jared's appearance during their first meeting. He probably had gotten straight from the construction site then.

After passing several people, ranging in age and gender, he found Jared busy discussing in a language Tyler didn't understand. If he was right, it was Portuguese. There were papers scattered all over a table. The other two attendees, a man and a woman, seemed to follow Jared's rapt words just fine. The woman suddenly said something that made Jared look up. "Folks, this is Tyler," he said briefly. "Clara, could you show him to his workplace? And make some fresh coffee."

"I'm right on it, Jared." Clara kindly smiled at Tyler and went to the kitchen. It was clearly still a relic of the old community center. The kitchen gave space to two long tables with wooden benches on either side. The need for fresh coffee became clear when the first passer-by who saw Clara immediately asked: "Is there fresh coffee?" "At 9:30," Clara replied.

She turned to Tyler, meanwhile, grabbing a coffee filter and filling it with deliciously scented ground coffee. Aroujo coffee, saw Tyler surprised. The world-famous coffee brand of Brazilian origin was the brand his mother bought for special occasions. Tyler thought it was a strange choice for the environment he was in. "We work here with a lot of volunteers. Making coffee is an important part of your job. Don't look down on it. Many projects run on coffee." She took him to a small pantry. "We also provide a warm lunch for about twenty people."

Clara talked and explained until Tyler felt his head overflow. "I'll never manage to remember all that," he admitted honestly.

"Ah, you're such a sweetheart," she said, squeezing him in the cheek. "You don't have to do that right away. I've got three weeks before I'm due." She knocked on her bulging stomach. Tyler's mouth fell open. That he didn't notice that before? "Everything's going to be okay, kid. Jared is a good boss and the volunteers are friendly. As long as you serve them fresh coffee," she added with a wink.

Apparently fresh coffee was a magic word, because at 9:30 p.m., the tables were full. Tyler felt directly included in the diversity of the group. His natural ability to connect with people he did not know seamlessly matched the volunteers' willingness to include him in the group. By the time his first day at work was over, he could name anyone.

Meanwhile, he went out of his way to avoid Jared. Physically this worked fine, but because of the stories of the volunteers it was impossible to forget about the man. Everyone had a good word for him and it irritated Tyler immensely.

The long corridor that connected the kitchen to the rest of the practice was the lifeblood of the renovation. All the rooms that were in use were off it. So was Jared's office. The door to the office was always open and despite his repulsion for to the user of the room, Tyler thought it was one of the most beautiful rooms in the practice. The tall and narrow stained glass windows, which ran along the length of the side wall, made for a beautiful spectacle on the bare back wall.

Although everyone came to them for coffee and lunch, Clara made the exception for Jared to bring it to him. Apart from Tyler's objection to the obvious preferred position this that gave him, it racked up his ego because it was his job to collect the dirty dishes. After three days, Clara realized he was deliberately avoiding Jared. The maternal sermon that followed his stubborn refusal to serve Jared agitated his resistance all the more. On Friday, his good luck had ran out, because Clara's feet were visibly swollen.

Tyler helped her with a chair and arranged a pillow under her ankles until she sat comfortably. She was looking at the clock. Tyler shook his head before she could ask the question. "Ah, come on, Tyler," she sighed awkwardly. "Everybody gets their coffee here," Tyler said stubbornly. "Why would he be any different?" "That's easy to answer, Tyler. He's the boss." Her friendly face was pleading. "Be a treasure and bring him his coffee. My feet hurt." Clara shoved a large pan towards herself and started peeling the potatoes for lunch. "I'll be right back to help you peel," Tyler promised.

Grinding his teeth, he took the coffee pot and walked down the hallway to Jared's office. He was unable to do so quickly because of all the boxes and construction material that got in the way. With visible reluctance he knocked on the door style. Jared was on the phone and gestured without looking up that he could move on. Tyler couldn't follow the conversation that was conducted in fluent French and he hoped to avoid a confrontation by quickly locating the coffee cup.

Suddenly Jared raised his head. Golden rays softened his sharp profile and lit up his eyes, making Tyler blink a few times. But the color of Jared's eyes was...? Involuntarily, he stepped closer. What was it? Chocolate brown? Moss green? Sunlight emphasized the long eyelashes. Staring, he had approached to the edge of the desk. The mocha color of Jared's skin contrasted with the simple white linen shirt he was wearing. Tyler's eyes followed the sunlight that gently glistened a few visible hairs on his chest.

He swallowed hard. This took longer than he intended. From his corner of the eye, he saw Jared's coffee cup. Relief shot through him. Fill up and get out. He tasted freedom when he heard behind him:
"Un moment, s'il te plait, Eric. Tyler, would you mind waiting? I'd like to hear how you're doing."
Tyler froze on the spot. An overwhelming indignation and rebellion filled his being. The reasonable tone Jared used made his blood boil. "Clara needs me. If you're so interested in how I'm doing, you can find me in the kitchen," he bit him. And he was gone, leaving a bewildered Jared behind.

Tyler's hands were shaking so violently that he spilled coffee in the hallway. Shuddering, he was standing in the kitchen. 'What the hell had possed him to speak to the man like that?' Clara saw the appaled gaze of someone who had taunted the bull and was now waiting for the horns. Jared appeared in the doorway. His face stood livid. "What the hell?" He ignored the questioning-looking Clara and pointed his furious gaze at Tyler who was pressed against the kitchen wall. "My office! Now!"

Reluctantly, Tyler followed the fuming man. He stepped into the sun-drenched office. The door was slammed so hard that many people looked up from their activities. Tyler wasn't waiting. Had he gone too far? Maybe, but he wasn't going to agree with Jared. Outrage gave him guts. "I don't know why you feel the need to yell at me like that. My time is as important as yours, and as I explained, Clara needs me." He took a step towards a closed door.

"What world do you live in that you think I'm going to take the way you talk to me?", Jared said.

"A Democratic one, in which the welfare of an employee is valued as much as that of his tyrannical employer," Tyler said defiantly.

Disbelief slid over Jared's face. "Tyrannical employer? I was going to ask how you were doing? How is informing after your well-being a violation of your rights as an employee?", he thundered.

With eyes wide open, Tyler stared at him. In one fell swoop, his bravado was gone. "I don't know," he muttered, shrugging his shoulders in despair.

"I just thought it was odd," Jared said in a reasonable tone, "that I need to hear from my mother, who has it from your mother, how things are going at work."

Tyler looked at the ground. The reality of his behavior; offensive and childish, filled him with shame. However, it was an unknown urge for recognition that made him reply: "If you wanted to know how I was doing, you could have just looked me up. There in the kitchen." Unconsciously pouting, he pointed a finger at the closed door.

With his eyes on the ground, he waited for the next burner. To his surprise, he heard Jared laughing relaxed. The man stepped up to him and raised his averted face towards him with a finger under his chin. Mesmerized, Tyler looked into Jared's amused eyes.
"I thought it was childish at first, but now that I think about it, you're acting more like a woman who feels ignored." He tapped him teasingly on his nose. "Go! Clara needs you."

Befuddled Tyler left the office. Back in the kitchen, Clara regularly recorded him. Since she didn't asked anything, he wisely kept his mouth shut.