Devil's Effect

Avoiding Reality Part 1

"It's nice to meet you as well, sir." Mike glanced at Chester and then at the counter, with its higher chairs. "Will we be sitting here, or would you like a table, Ches? You might be more comfortable at a table."

"A table for sure," Chester answered before looking at his boss. "Have you already ordered or were you waiting for us?"

"I was waiting, but Mike's right. Go take a seat, Chester. What do you want and I'll order it for you."

There was no question. The moment Chester had heard the name of the sandwich shop, he knew exactly what he wanted. "Meatball sandwich with pepperoni," he told Forrest. "And I'd love a beer."

"Consider it done," Forrest told him before swatting his hand in the air. "Go on, go pick out a table and sit down. Mike and I will be fine." He smiled, his thick mustache curving with his lips.

Mike smiled at Chester too. "No worries, Ches, I won't eat your sandwich on the way over," he teased, grinning as Chester rolled his eyes with a smile and started for a table. Mike watched for a second, and then turned to the counter. "I've never been here before," he mentioned to Forrest. "Chester says the meatballs are the best thing on the menu, though. What do you like?"

Forrest kept his eyes on the menu, hanging over the stainless steel countertop. "He's right, the meatballs are great. But I'm a fan of their eggplant parmesan sandwich, myself. It usually hits the spot. If you're not into that, their spaghetti sandwich is famous in some parts of the city." He tossed Mike a quick look. He could tell it was going to take Mike another minute to decide. "I have to say, I like your boyfriend a lot."

Mike's mind was split between trying to imagine spaghetti on a sandwich, and trying to come up with an appropriate response to Forrest's comment. His eyes slid from the menu over to the man next to him. "He's amazing, isn't he? He really loves Score, too. Ches has always been really into fashion. It's pretty much the perfect job for him."

Forrest nodded. "He is amazing. He's got real passion and dedication. He puts himself wholeheartedly into everything he does. That's very rare. I see great things for him in the future, even when the modeling part of it comes to an end."

"What?" Mike's full attention was on Forrest, the spaghetti sandwich forgotten. "When it comes to an end? Why is it ending? Does Chester know that?" Mike looked over at Chester, who was carefully propping his crutches against the wall behind his chair at the table he'd selected. It was far enough across the restaurant that Mike knew he couldn't hear them.

Forrest put his hand up. "I don't mean right now," he assured Mike quickly. "I'm simply saying that everything runs its course, and when it's time for things to change, I see a future for him at Score afterwards. I could use his instincts and good eye for fashion on my creative team."

"Oh, yeah, he'd probably really love that." Mike forced a quick smile. "Sorry, I sort of jumped to conclusions. I just know how much he loves modeling, he'd be crushed if that was over." But being on the creative team, he'd love that. I know he would. He has a good eye for that stuff, even if I don't always understand it. Mike looked over at Chester again and then back at the menu. "He's always trying to dress me up, but I'm a little stuck in my ways. We should probably order, I can bet it's driving him nuts we're over here talking without him. He really hates that boot."

Forrest put a soft hand to Mike's shoulder. "I've always believed that opposites attract," he said before turning his full attention to the worker behind the counter. He ordered his and Chester's sandwiches, along with Chester's beer, and a glass of red wine for himself before he turned to Mike. He stepped back to give him room. "Whatever you'd like, Mike, dinner is on me."