Chapter Six

Kevin

I left the office at lunchtime to visit the office supply store for a box. The hat was really a standout and I didn't want anyone just passing by to see it and grab it or for it to be damaged. Sure, a porch pirate might still get it, but hopefully it wouldn't be there for long. Not that I knew Reid's schedule. I was just playing the odds. I took my box back to the office, set the hat in it, and composed a note to include.

When I arrived at the address, I knocked, but nobody answered, which was fine. I just hadn't been able to leave without at least trying to hand the cap to the rightful owner.

After dropping off the package on hopefully the right Reid's doorstep, I didn't expect to hear from him again. I still didn't know if he had a daddy or not, but I could hope if he was single, he'd pay another visit to Chained.

It had been a long time since I'd been so intrigued by a little, but there wasn't much I could do about it at this point except for that. But as I withdrew a frosted pilsner glass from the freezer and popped the cap off a pale lager I'd discovered recently, I couldn't help but remember the little who had worn the hat, standing in the doorway of the little room.

I'd assumed he was searching for his daddy or maybe mommy, considering his expression…maybe that wasn't it at all?

Pouring the beer, I glanced around for some kind of snack. I really needed to make dinner, but it had been a long day and my interest level in yet another meal for one was low. Chips and salsa it was.

Arranging everything on a tray, I padded barefoot into the living room and set it on the coffee table. When I was married, dinner was a more organized affair, if April was home, at least. Toward the end, I'd gotten tired of ruined meals and stopped even trying.

But there was nothing wrong with chips and salsa. It was mostly vegetables, right? A few hours of television and it would be late enough to go to bed.

When my phone rang, I glanced at the screen but did not recognize the number. But it was local, and perhaps a client? Financial services is not a nine-to-five job, with worried customers who had often gotten "great investment ideas" from friends and family. I didn't take calls late at night anymore, but I wasn't busy, it wasn't late, and it could be a client using a different phone, so I picked up. "Hello?"

"Is this Kevin?"

"It is. Who's calling please?" Lounging on the sofa, flicking channels on the remote, I waited to find out whose brother-in-law wanted them to buy bitcoin without the least understanding of what it was or maybe invest in swampland somewhere. Yes…it did happen.

"This is Reid. About the hat?"

I sat up straight. "So, I did get the wrong person? I'm sorry. I'll pick it up."

"No, it was my hat, and I'm calling to say thanks. It's my very favorite, and very nice of you to go to the trouble to drop it off personally like that."

"It really wasn't any problem. I googled the name inside the hat and only found one listed, so I took a shot. It looked very cute on you, and I hated to see you lose it."

"You saw me? I wonder if I saw you, too. I don't know many people there. I was just visiting."

"Hang on." I texted him a picture. "That's me."

"Oh, I saw you. You were playing blocks with your littles when I peeked into the room."

He thought that? I clicked the TV off and set down the remote. "Not my littles. Just friends we were passing the evening with. That was quite a tower, wasn't it?"

"So tall! I thought about coming to play but didn't want to interrupt." He was quiet for a minute. "It looked like fun."

"It was. Chained always has activities set up for a fun evening." Now I was quiet before saying. "Sometimes with glitter."

A sharp intake of breath told me he was a fan. "Most daddies hate glitter."

"But most littles love it." I chuckled. "And that's what makes it great."

"One time, I found a big can of green glitter, about the size of those dry coffee creamers, at an after-Christmas sale at the hobby store. It was only three dollars, and how could I resist?"

About as well as I could resist asking what happened next. "And then? What did you do?"

"I made such a big mess in my kitchen, I still sometimes find it when I sweep up. And just the other day, I was combing my hair and a fleck landed in the sink. It's been months. Way more fun if there's a daddy or a monitor to clean up."

"Sounds like you have a little naughty side," I commented. "Or mischievous."

"More like the second one, I think." His tone became subdued. "But sometimes it works out the same."

My jaw clenched. Some supposed daddies didn't get it. Naughty and mischievous were not the same thing, nor should they trigger the same response. There were a few bad apples in every barrel. "I guess it can, but it shouldn't."

"Thanks for that. Chained seems like a really nice club."

"It is. I haven't been in a while myself, but it always feels like home. A place I can relax and be myself. If you choose to join, I hope you have the same experience."

"That's nice of you."

We talked for a while and the more I heard, the more I liked him and wanted to get to know him better. But we'd done about all of that we could on a phone call, so when the conversation slowed, I asked, "Are you just looking for someone to scene with, or are you maybe interested in a date?"

He agreed to a date.