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The man standing in the doorway of Pandi's office was beautiful. There were no other words that fit. His outfit was simple business casual, but he wore it with all the confidence of a model on the runway.
Belatedly, Pandi realized he had been asked a question. "Ah, no. You're not too early. I was hoping you'd show up soon so I could give you a quick rundown of how this system works."
The man (Zay, right?) smiled, his dark eyes getting smaller with the movement. "I'd like that." He followed Pandi to the desk, listened to his explanation attentively, and repeated the instructions back perfectly to show he understood. Handsome and smart? He had to be one of God's favorites.
Pandi stepped away from the desk as Zay sat down. His eyes caught a brief glimpse of what looked like a small purse as Zay shoved it deep into the receptionist's cubby. He glanced at Zay's face and noticed the lightest layer of makeup. There was nothing that said guys could not wear makeup, but those who were brave enough to wear it were rarely straight.
For all Pandi knew, Zay might have been straight, but he did not look it. Not entirely, at least. It was probably the act of straightness that Pandi was watching him perform right now. But if he was putting on an act, why did he feel the need to hide? Had Noah not told him that Pandi was not homophobic? Or was he just scared of judgment?
Pandi greeted the first of his clients with a smile as he watched Zay check them in. He gave a nod when Zay looked at him for approval and then headed back to the therapy room for the appointment. He was entirely focused on the people he was with while the appointments lasted, but in between appointments, his thoughts hovered around Zay. Against his better judgment, he visited the front desk every time he got the chance, happy to exist in the same space as someone who was not silently judging him because of his ex-wife.
Zay was a calm, efficient worker, and he handled questions with ease. If he did not know something, he did not hesitate to ask Pandi about it. If he ever was on his phone, Pandi never caught him, but he seemed like the type to focus just on work.
At lunchtime, Pandi shut down the office and, not thinking anything of it, offered to take Zay to lunch.
After a moment of surprise, Zay recovered with a smile and a nod. "That's very generous of you," he said as they walked across the street to Pandi's usual lunch spot.
"You came in to work for me at the last minute," Pandi replied, holding the door open for Zay. "I think you're the more generous one out of us. I've got plenty of money, but time is an invaluable resource."
Zay snorted. "You sound like my coach."
Pandi raised an eyebrow. "Coach? Do you play a sport?"
Zay shrugged with a barely-there smile on his lips. "Oh, yeah. I meddle around with tennis, you know, for some fun and the exercise."
Pandi smiled back, wondering what the chances were that his stand-in receptionist had the same interests he did. "You play tennis? I do too! Just on the weekends, when I get around to it."
"Nice," Zay commented, his tone light and friendly. He was so comfortable in his own skin that Pandi was beginning to get slightly envious.
They ordered sandwiches and took them outside to eat. As they ate, Pandi noticed the smallest shift in Zay's demeanor. To be fair, he did not know the guy super well, but there was a definite switch that had been turned on or off inside Zay.
Zay was holding himself differently. The way he moved his hands was different. The way he crossed his legs was different. Even the way he took bites of his sandwich was different. It was like Zay had a whole alternate person hiding inside his skin. But then Zay frowned at the sidewalk for a minute and he was suddenly back to the person Pandi had gotten to know. What the hell?
Pandi let it go, pretty sure that it was not something he should bring up in casual conversation. They went back to the office, and Pandi happened to overhear a client talking with Zay.
"Are you a native?" she asked.
Zay seemed taken aback at the question. "I'm sorry, why are you asking me that?" His tone was polite but hovered close to offended.
"Oh, sorry," she quickly apologized. "It's just the braided hair, you know."
"I see." There was a long pause and then Zay said, "I guess I'm a native. I'm about as native as you can get."
Huh. Pandi turned that interaction over in his head a few times throughout the rest of the day, wondering what Zay had meant. He had to acknowledge that Zay did wear his hair rather long for a guy and in a braid. His features also looked vaguely indigenous, so Pandi could not blame the woman for jumping to that conclusion. Not really.
After locking up at the end of the day, Pandi walked out to the parking lot beside Zay, a bit surprised that Zay had waited for him. They said their goodbyes in the parking lot and split to their own cars. And, naturally, Pandi's car chose that moment to choose not to start. He debated swearing under his breath and then dismissed the idea. He popped his hood and got out to see if he could see anything wrong.
He felt a presence by his side a moment before Zay said, "Looks like the terminals are loose."
Pandi looked up quickly. "Say what?"
Zay's sleeves were already rolled back. He pointed to the metal cage around the battery. "These aren't tightened down to the terminals. How the hell did you even drive it here?"
Pandi stared. Since when did a receptionist know about cars?
"You got a wrench set in your trunk?"
Pandi blinked. "Um, not sure."
"Kay. I'll just get mine." Zay walked back to his own vehicle, grabbed a case out of the trunk, and came back over. He flipped the case open, put the wrench together with practiced ease, and fixed Pandi's car in less than two minutes. His hands were dirty, but he did not seem to care. In fact, he looked happier than Pandi had seen him all day. Maybe fixing cars was a hobby of his or something. Whatever it was, it was something that made him really happy. Something that brought him joy. If Zay were a client of Pandi's, Pandi would have definitely encouraged him to continue fixing cars whenever he could. Zay seemed like someone who was satisfied with his life overall, but Pandi could already see there were moments where Zay was sad and confused.
And it broke his heart. Pandi wanted to help, but he could not until he was asked to. He could only be a friend and a boss for now. He shook himself out of it and offered Zay a tentative smile. "Thank you. I appreciate it."
Zay shut his case of wrenches with a grin. "Anytime. I mean it. Legit call me if you have car problems."
"I don't have your number." Pandi felt weird saying that. He was not asking Zay out or anything. He might have liked to if the media was not poised to bite anyone Pandi was too close to. Now that was an interesting thought. Pandi had been married to a woman, had always considered himself straight. But something deep down was fantasizing about taking Zay on a date. An actual date, not the awkward lunch they had had today.
Zay held out his hand. "I'll text myself from your phone."
Pandi handed over his phone and received it back with a contact made for Zayvier King. He was surprised no emojis had been included with the name, since Zay seemed like that kind of person. He masked his expression and slid his phone back into his pocket. "Cool. Thanks again, Zay."
Zay nodded. "Yep. See you tomorrow?"
Pandi smiled again. "Yeah."
"Great. Bye!" Zay called out the last word over his shoulder as he walked back to his car, his steps looking a little lighter than they had been earlier.