Page 65 of Love Language

He knew that Richard had had a regular list of household tasks for Greg to complete, but while he’d mentioned that some of those actions triggered his memories, he’d never given the indications that he was looking for something like that.

He debated for a long time before writing back. “Nice work! Proud,” he finally decided on. He’d have to see what came of it.

A smiley face. So… yeah. Whatever that meant.

But at the back of his mind was a cautious hope. Was Greg finally ready for more in their relationship? He knew he could never replace Richard, but if there could just be a place for him, too…

He hoped that’s where this was going, because he certainly needed something to go right in his life. FlexTech was killing him. They’d sent him some of the money they owed but claimed to be holding out on the rest until he delivered the product.

That was how he worked on smaller projects, but this was a larger one where they’d agreed on an hourly rate. It could have saved them money, if they were efficient, but they’d shot themselves in the foot by trying to cheap out early and then being completely disorganized.

He suspected the company was going to implode before they ever got a product to the shelves. Not that it was any of his business.

And then they kept sending him emails. Four of them at the office, all with different opinions, and none of whom seemed to be interested in listening to each other.

Just writing back with, “I noticed that you asked for this, but he asked for this (see attached),” was wasting a huge amount of his time.

And definitely sapping away his energy.

And outside of FlexTech, he wasn’t doing so well financially. He’d pick up quick pieces sometimes on those bidding sites, but they didn’t bring in much. Certainly nothing like his old paycheck. They were mostly helpful for referrals and recommendations, not that he’d gotten many of those yet, either.

He forced himself to get back to work, gratified to take a break and work on the website for a bicycle repair cooperative. They were great clients, easy to communicate with, pleased with his work, and capable of holding meetings on their own time and then emailing him back with a single set of revision requests. Which he especially appreciated since he’d given them a discounted rate.

Nonetheless, he’d give them his best and add another link to his website.

He was surprised when five o’clock rolled around and his pocket buzzed with another text coming in.

Greg: Whew. Long week. Did you decide where we’re going for dinner?

Marco: Surprise for you.

Actually, he’d gotten absorbed and forgotten to look, though he had a few options in mind from previous searches. And he could always go to an old favorite.

Greg: Or you haven’t decided yet?

Greg was totally on to him, but he appreciated the gentle teasing.

Greg: What should I wear?

Part of him lit up on reading it. Did Greg want him to pick out his clothes? He’d loved dressing Greg each morning and evening last weekend, despite the depressing reason for it.

Of course, it was also a completely reasonable question to ask when they were going to an unspecified restaurant.

He decided to give in to his desires. At the very worst, Greg would probably humor him even if it didn’t mean the same thing to him.

Marco: Shirt light blue. Tie with stars. Dinner jacket.

Greg: :)

Emojis should be disallowed. Especially since Greg seemed to only use the smiley face. If it was at least something like the blushing face or the kissy face, even the winky face, at least he could read something from it…

But at least now he knew where they were going. If he got to dress Greg up, he was going to take him somewhere nice.

And dinner was lovely, of course. Greg wore the clothes he’d suggested, and it sent a little bolt through Marco’s heart. He looked distinguished and capable, which made Marco feel even luckier that he was the one who got to see the man on his knees.

Their conversation flowed freely, as it always did. Greg listened to him bitch about FlexTech and suggested that he be more firm with his hours. Which, seriously, he’d been trying to do.

And Greg was excited about a new product line he was launching, a young adult series with a video game tie-in. Apparently, it was novel because the books would work interactively with the video game instead of trying to lamely make sense of it after the fact.