Where You Are
Written By: Ms Maggs / Edited By: KJT

Chapter 4 – Workplace Harassment

"You're in a good mood this morning." Sara joined Greg at the coffee pot, hoping he was making Blue Hawaiian. "Singing in the breakroom?" It was a 180 from the last time she had seen him. "You must be happy to be here and be over that nasty flu that kept you out of work for days."

"I didn't have the flu." Filling a mug for the woman he had been flirting with for years, he confessed, "I was home packing boxes and writing my resignation letter."

"You were going to throw your career away just because those idiots paid off the James family?"

Greg laughed as if the idea was preposterous. "No." Unfurling his sweetest smile, he handed her a mug of freshly brewed Blue Hawaiian. "I was leaving because I saw you with Griss the other night at the scene. You were vomiting in the backyard and he brought you a can of Sprite. I saw the way you looked at him, and realized…game over, I'll never have you." He sheepishly admitted, "A guy chases a dream for seven years and finds out that it's never gonna happen because his girl has been in love with someone else the whole time…he feels like a fool."

"Uh." The confession mentally knocking her off balance, Sara stammered, "I…um…I know sometimes I might have said things or done things. I…I'm really sorry, Greg, you've been through so much recently. Please believe me when I say I never meant to hurt you in any way. You're a great guy. Too good for me actually, because you're such a high energy, happy person and I'm moody, bordering on bitch at times. Seriously, you don't need my baggage bogging you down. You're a gentle soul and there's someone out there who needs a sweet, fun guy like you." Nerve wracked by the news, she kept overtalking and attempted humor, "And I saw your bod in the shower, remember, so I know what I'm talking about when I say, whoever she is, she'll be very lucky to have you for that reason too. I'm rejecting him while telling him he's well hung, so on top of being cruel, I'm making no sense. "Also, would you mind not saying anything about what you saw, because Grissom didn't exactly return my affection." And now I just confirmed I don't want him even though I'm alone and rejected myself. Nice. "What I mean is…"

"It's okay, Sara." Soulfully gazing into her eyes, he stroked her cheek and whispered, "You know why it's okay?"

"Why?" she breathed out, feeling terrible.

"Because I'm yanking your chain. It was the payout. I felt incredibly screwed."

"You bastard!" She was about to throw her beverage, but remembered it was hot and controlled herself.

Laughing his ass off, Greg darted away. "Ha! You don't want to waste your favorite coffee by throwing it at me."

"No, I just remembered it was Catherine's job to give you third degree burns at the lab."

"Oh! Would that be the moody bitchy side that you were referring to?" he asked in between laughs.

"I can't believe you!" Her heart was still pounding from the drama. "You made me feel so guilty!"

Safely using the table to separate them, he deadpanned, "In all honesty, you were a colossal tease over the years, so the guilty feelings aren't all that inappropriate."

"Oh!"

Puffing up, he teased, "I guess you were just trying to make Grissom jealous by pretending to be interested in a better," he winked, "bigger man."

"What's going on in here?" Grissom asked when he saw his significant other lunging for Greg.

"After seven long years, Sara and I finally declared our love for each other, and she doesn't want to wait to consummate it." Darting behind Grissom, Greg laughed, "Come on, help me out! Tell her it's against department policy to get it on in the breakroom unless your name is Catherine."

Looking at the man she had made passionate love with earlier that morning, she snipped, "I sincerely hope you know he's joking about the love part."

"No, I think he's quite serious," Grissom casually replied on the way to the coffee pot. "People suffering from delusions always believe their fantasies are real."

Fearing she'd blurt 'I love you for that', Sara covered her mouth.

Greg reached into his pocket. "Hey, Griss, I need to give you this."

When the supervisor glanced at the paper he said, "A change of address form?"

"Yeah, I'm supposed to turn it into my supervisor."

Sara anxiously looked at Gil. "A change of address form?" They hadn't thought about paperwork required because of her move.

"It's department policy," Greg explained. "You're required to update your address within seven days of a move."

"This is Nick's address," Grissom remarked with a puzzled expression.

"With all the recent publicity, I was having some problems at my apartment complex."

"What kind of problems?" Sara's concern made her forget her own issue for the moment.

"Flat tires, glares from some of the residents."

Grissom snapped into supervisor mode, "If anyone directly threatened you, then we…"

"Look, it's over, I'm gone, the last thing I want to do is draw more attention to myself." Greg pointed to the form. "Long story short, I had to move and Nick offered to rent me the extra master suite in his townhouse until I finish saving up to buy a place of my own in a better neighborhood." He backpedaled, "I didn't mean that to sound…what I meant was a better neighborhood for me to be in right now, because of the circumstances. Under normal circumstances I would have no problem in any neighborhood with any people, I still don't, they just seem to have a problem with me and I don't want to cause anyone…"

"You're overtalking." Sara smiled at her friend. "It's okay, I do that sometimes too when I don't know the right thing to say. Overtalking usually just makes things worse though. Isn't that right, Grissom?"

"Indeed." Gil nodded at Greg. "Your friends know who you are. Don't worry what anyone else thinks."

"Thanks."

"Now back to this department policy." Sara snatched the form from Grissom's hand. "Is it mailing address that's critical to them or physical address?" I'm sure that didn't sound too suspicious to the genius. "Because…because I'm not sure if I changed my physical address with them when I move a couple of years ago."

"Mailing, so if you're using a P.O. Box, they won't care," Greg confirmed while suspecting something was up between the two people who supposedly weren't together. "Hey, Grissom, it's not a violation of department policy for two people who work together to live together, is it?"

Concerned the nosy genius might be catching on, Grissom calmly replied, "Only if it's a supervisor, subordinate relationship and the two people are married. So you and Nicky will be fine unless one of you becomes the other's boss, the State of Nevada amends its policy on same-sex marriage, and the two of you continue to work together in a supervisor-subordinate capacity should you opt to tie the knot." He patted Greg's shoulder. "Until then…enjoy all the perks of shacking up with a coworker." I am.

"You're in a really good mood today, Griss."

"Yes." Because your fantasy is my reality. There, I've thought it to your face, so now hopefully I can stop being twelve. "Thank you for noticing, and welcome back." Grissom strolled for the door. "I'll see you two at the meeting."

"You look noticeably upbeat today yourself." Sara came to rest in front of her friend.

"You do too, especially around Grissom, which is odd since you said he shot you down."

"I bounce back quickly."

"So, uh…are you guys gonna carpool now?"

"You're in a good mood this morning." Standing next to his buddy, Warrick threw open his locker and unbuttoned his dress shirt. "What was her name?"

"Car-ina." Nick smiled at the inside joke and thought of the laughs he had shared with Greg before coming to work that morning. Cletus…ha!

"What'd you do?"

Knowing that smart ass, he'll bring home a turkey pot pie and a twelve pack. I should borrow one of Bobby Dawson's coon dogs and have it sittin' on the couch with me tonight when...

"Yo!"

Nick glanced up. "Huh?"

"You're distracted." Warrick stepped back smiling. "This girl really got to you. Tell me about her."

"Carina? Yeah, I met her last night playin' Texas Hold 'Em at the Tangiers. Cute red head, just moved here from Fort Worth. We went back to her place and she made me fajitas." Nick sat on the bench to re-tie one of his boots. "You're gonna have to imagine how it went from there, 'cause you know I don't kiss and tell."

"You gonna see her again? Or did she have an extra long pinky toe or something else wrong with her that made you lose her phone number?" Because there was always something that sent his buddy running away from a woman without looking back.

"She had these Shih Tzus…"

"I knew it." Warrick shook his head. "Three words for ya…fear…of…commitment. I don't get it. After your abduction, it should have been you who realized life was too short and got married, not me." With 20/20 hindsight, he wished he hadn't. "This is just you and me, alright? Is it too hard to trust someone after that, or what? Because you're worse now than you ever were."

"You're right, it's a trust thing." Nick nodded, "I figured I'd wait and watch how the commitment experience worked out for you and Tina, and if it all went well, then I'd give it a shot. Sorry, man, but the jury is in and when it comes to wantin' a long-term relationship with a woman, I'm less enthusiastic than ever after watchin' you suffer."

"Is that why you asked Sanders to move in?" He had found out two days earlier. "Because you're sick of women and switchin' teams?" When his buddy shot daggers, he stopped laughing, "Don't worry, I know you asked The Hood's Most Wanted to move into that lily-white neighborhood of yours because you were worried about some brothers killin' his ass, not because you want it for yourself."

"Thanks for the benefit of the doubt, man." Nick rolled his eyes.

"Hey, I'm your friend, I know the score, but you'll be hearin' some shit about it from LVPDs not-so-finest, so be prepared." Warrick grabbed his work boots from the locker. "Oh yeah, two thirty-somethin' guys…neither one of them ever having a relationship with a woman all these years…Sanders wearin' jacked up clothes half the time and gettin' his ass kicked because he's too scared to pack heat…you sucker puchin' that punk at the scene when he riled you about Greg. Come on, Nicky. You grew up in Texas and played ball, do the math. As soon as the word's out, cops like Castorini will be humming the theme to Brokeback Mountain when they see you two approaching a scene."

"How does the Brokeback Mountain theme go exactly? Just so I can recognize it."

"You think I saw that movie?" Warrick's laughter bounced off the metal lockers.

Nick joined in laughing, "I figured Yoko made you watch it."

"Oh she tried."

"Ha!"

"Oh yeah, she brings that DVD home one night and of course, I refuse to watch it with her. She's like," he mocked her voice, "'what do you mean you won't watch it?' I'm like, what part of 'Baby, I have no desire to see two gay cowboys having sex don't you understand?' She's gets all bent and accuses me of bein' homophobic. I tell her I'm not homophobic, I work with people who are gay, I even have gay friends. I don't care what my gay friends do behind closed doors every night, that's the truth, I don't. It's noneof my business what anyone does with their significant other, I just don't want to see it in front of me, or on my TV, no more than two gay men want to sit down with a bucket of popcorn and watch a brother gettin' it on with his woman."

"What did she say to that?"

"Nothin'." Grabbing a fresh shirt, Warrick sighed, "Apparently hearing me talk about gay sex was a turn on, because she jumped my ass right there and never did end up watchin' the movie."

"That's messed up."

"Nicky! I can't believe I'm the last to know." Catherine strutted over grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Do you and Greg want a toaster or a blender?" She took the spot next to Warrick so she would have a clear view of Nick's eye roll. "How are your conservative parents taking the news of you shacking up with a liberal Californian?"

"I haven't told them yet actually." Nick stood to inspect his firearm. "Greggo was havin' problems with his landlord, and some of his neighbors were givin' him crap, that's why he had to move. So, sorry to disappoint your twisted mind, Catherine. It's as simple as he needed a place to go and I had room." His voice dropping, he said, "Just a friend helpin' out a friend in need with no strings attached. Like when you tried to save me by gettin' the ransom which, just so we're clear…I'll never forget no matter what happens the rest of our lives." No matter how much you go behind my back or piss me off. So could you please stop hinting that I have. "I'll be grateful forever. Okay?"

"Awww, lighten up, Nicky. I was joking. I know you're as red-blooded as a male comes. Hell, we go to a bar together and we're not there five minutes before you're leaving with a girl on your arm, right?" That's how I wound up drugged in a motel room, because I was abandoned by my friend because he had to get laid. She dropped a hand on his shoulder. "Honestly, I think having quirky, hyper Greg around will be good for you. You take everything way too hard these days and you can't let go of things that used to roll right off your back."

"MmmHmm." Nick shut his locker and forced a smile, "Okay, as much as I'd love to stick around and discuss what's wrong with me, I have a stack of cases to review before we meet with Grissom. I'll catch you guys later."

Once they were alone, Warrick took his co-worker by the elbow. "Pointing out that you think he's messed up and walking around like a bomb waiting to go off, isn't gonna work, especially not now when he doesn't trust you because of the Reverse Forensics garbage."

"Which part of 'I didn't have a choice' do you people not get!" she snapped, sick and tired of the issue being thrown in her face.

"Cath…"

"Don't Cath me!" Her frustration exceeding her patience, she blasted, "How can he question my loyalty when I showed up with a million in cash? How can what happened last month when I was following orders take that level of trust away? And why isn't he pissed off at Brass too?"

"Come on, you know it's not just about what happened with Keppler. It's about Sara and Ecklie and…"

"And you're all perfect?! You never make mistakes?! Sara's backing him up, because she's still pissed about something that happened over a year ago, that's ridiculous."

"You never did tell her you were sorry."

"You're one to talk about saying sorry."

"Is this about…"

"Don't play innocent." She postured, swinging her hair off her shoulders. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. I'm done here." She turned to leave. "Shit or get off the pot, Warrick. Your indecisiveness is making you look pathetic."

"Hey!" Shaking his head, Warrick watched her storm off, then turned to his locker. "Second woman to bite my head off today."

"Warrick?" Greg's voice called out.

"Yo."

"Hey." Greg anxiously cleared his throat and said, "It's your lucky day."

"No, it's not, trust me."

"Yeah, well, I was being sarcastic."

Warrick slammed his locker and checked his firearm. "Welcome back by the way."

"Thanks."

"So what's goin' on?"

"My biggest fan, the Under Sheriff, just ordered that you and I spend some quality time in the field today…in a specific geographic region that I'm sure you can guess, all because he thinks it will be a good PR move. He hasn't ordered us to play basketball together, but I'm sure that's coming. He's probably out getting matching jerseys printed right now. Yours will say 'I like white guys' and mine will say 'Black people are way cool. After that, he'll have us eating fried chicken and quiche together in the park on a Burberry blanket while listening to Michael Jackson's oh so poignant Black or White."

"No, no, no." Warrick holstered his gun. "What that man doesn't know…."

"Honestly, I think there's a good chance that he's hoping I won't come back alive and the whole thing will be put to rest. For all I know, he's ordered a hit and this is the ruse."

"That's not gonna happen on my shift, Greggo. No way. They'll have to take me down too." Warrick tossed his arm around the jittery man's shoulders and walked him out of the locker room. "You know why I'm gonna be your bodyguard?"

"Because my mommy is paying you?"

"No, because Nicky would kill me if I let anything happened to his significant other."

"Ah."

Fishing his keys out of his pocket, Warrick laughed, "Are you guys gonna carpool now?"

"Guess what?" Nick dangled his keys in front of Sara, who was sitting in the conference room in front of a stack of files. "Instead of meeting with Grissom, we have a possible suicide."

She jumped to her feet. "I wanna drive."

"Actually, you have to drive." He whispered, "I thought we were coverin' Tuesday, not Monday, and I didn't get home until five. My BAC is still over legal. I took a cab here."

She snatched the keys. "Why didn't your roomie drive you? Don't tell me you already had your first quarrel after only four days."

"Cute."

They walked side by side down the hall.

"I think it's good." Sara smiled as she nodded. "It's good to live with someone."

"Then why do you live alone?"

"Not me, I was referring to Greg. It's good he lives with someone, because it has to be scary living alone after getting attacked. The poor guy probably lies in bed hearing every creak and gust of wind, thinking it's someone trying to break in and grab him."

"Yeah." Nick knew the feeling all too well. "That's why I wanted to help him out. That's no way to live."

"You're such a nice guy."

"Don't spread it around." Donning his sunglasses, he opened the front door for her like the gentleman he had been raised to be. "Let's hit the Java Bean drive-thru on the way."

"Hangover special?"

"Yep. Unless you need breakfast…"

"Already ate at home."

Nick chuckled, "Since when did you start eatin' breakfast at home? You're a worse bachelor than me, Sara, you don't even buy food."

"New habit, trying to save cash."

She hopped in the truck.

"But if you need breakfast," Sara offered when Nick took a seat, "we can stop."

"No, I ate at home today too."

"Since when did you start eating breakfast at home?" she asked while driving out of the lot.

"Greg cooks, can you believe it? He says he learned because he had to spend a lot of time in kitchen with his mother."

"After meeting Jan Sanders, I'd say she probably tied him to a kitchen chair every day so he wouldn't get hurt playing in the backyard."

"You may not be far off."

"Yessss!" Greg snapped his cell shut. "Grissom's rerouting us to The Tangiers. There's a DB in the men's room. Before we left, he said he'd think of something to get us out of this BS, but I didn't think he'd kill a guy." He laughed and the knots in his stomach eased.

"You ever think Grissom has a basement full of dead bodies?"

"No, but I'm relatively certain that he has a few skeletons in his closet."

"Who doesn't, man, who doesn't?" Turning down the radio, Warrick said, "Maybe we'll run into a few angry black men at The Tangiers. Then we can do our soulful rendition of Black and White and kill two birds with one stone."

"Join in when you're ready." After a beat box intro, Greg broke into the rap chorus. "Protection, for gangs and clubs, and nations, causing grief in human relations, it's a turf war..."

"Yeah, you need to stop that."

Greg froze.

"Hey, I need to get serious for a sec…"

"I didn't mean to offend you with the song, I was kidding around. I…"

"Would you…it's not about the damn song, it's about Nick, but I can't believe you know the words to that song."

"I was a huge Michael Jackson fan as a kid. I taught myself to moonwalk. There was a talent show at school, and my mom even made me a sequin glove and…" When he saw Warrick shaking his head, Greg cleared his throat. "I'll shut up now."

"Did your mommy video tape you dancin' to MJ in the living room?"

"What didn't she video tape? First she did it the old fashioned way, but when Sony released the BetaMovie recorder in 1983, we were the first ones to have on the cul-de-sac. All because she had to document my life. Seriously, she has video tape of me sleeping. She still tapes me when I go home for visits. She has them all in the library cataloged on shelves. My dad said she's been watching them non stop since I was attacked. Her special project right now is making a tape of all my firsts…first smile, first word, first steps, the aftermath of my first wet dream, I'm shutting up now." Greg redirected, "What did you want to ask me about Nick?"

"You weren't serious about the wet dream part, right?"

"No!" At least he hoped she didn't have footage of it, because he was still traumatized from her finding the soiled sheets that morning when he was twelve and hearing her cry 'my little boy is growing up' while stripping them off the bed.

Chuckling, Warrick turned in the direction of the The Strip. "Does Nicky seem alright when he's home? This is between us by the way," he joked, "got that, Notorious G?"

"Got it."

"Do you think Nick's doin' okay? Because his fuse has become incredibly short, and he can't let go of anything, he never used to have a problem with that."

"Uh…" Watching the scenery zip by, Greg was torn between mutually worrying about Nick and betraying him. "I know what you mean. When we were working last week, the six girls murdered, he seemed one step away from explosion more than a couple of times, but yeah, we had a blast moving my stuff in and he seemed great. We drank and laughed our asses off. He was telling crazy stories like the ones that used to have us rolling at the diner. After moving, we ordered pizza and had a Farrelly brothers movie marathon. He seemed fine, but considering the amount of booze we consumed, he wouldn't have been able to be tense if he tried."

"Beavis and Butthead, huh?"

"Exactly." Greg smiled out the window. "Don't worry, I'll keep a close eye on Nick."

"I don't think this was a suicide." Sara stood staring at the words written in scarlet red lipstick on the couple's bathroom mirror. "'What comes around, goes around. Die you two-timing BASTARD!' What about you, Nick?"

"Not really, no." Walking out of the bathroom, he sighed, "Looks like another case of love gone wrong, Vegas style. And people wonder why I don't settle down and get married. Is it really a mystery after what we see day after day?"

"Aww, but you used to be the hopeful romantic of the group."

"I used to be a lot of things." Standing at the side of the bed, he shook his head at the dead man, who had a fireplace poker stuck in his chest. "What the hell was that rookie thinkin' callin' this a possible suicide? That note on the mirror and this guy stabbed in the heart."

"Maybe the rookie is a hopeful romantic."

Nick paused to ponder the statement. "How the heck is thinkin' the guy offed himself a hopeful romantic's theory?"

"Think Romeo and Juliet."

"I haven't read that since high school, but from what I recall, Juliet didn't leave a note on the bathroom mirror sayin' 'Die you two-timing bastard'."

"I mean…suicide because of a broken heart. In order for a person to want to take their own life, the love had to be strong, and if it's strong, it exists and there is hope that love exists for everyone." She spoke with Shakespearian eloquence, "Think Star-crossed lovers. Unrequited love. Isn't it better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?"

Snapping on his gloves, Nick sighed, "You really need a boyfriend, Sara."

She chuckled to herself. "And you really need a wife."

"You sound like my mommy and all five of my sisters." Nick laughed. "Hey, Greg's really grown up a lot, hasn't he?" He started snapping photos. "Yeah, I'm really proud of how he's handled himself with all this BS goin' on, aren't you?"

"Totally."

"Yeah." Nick continued inching into delicate territory. "And when he's not bein' serious, he's a great guy to have fun with. He had me laughin' my ass off all weekend. And I think he's a guy you can trust, don't you? I think he'd be loyal to a fault, and I don't know about you, but to me, there's nothin' more important in a relationship than trust."

"I agree." Sara stopped working to stare at her friend.

"Greg also strikes me as the kind of person who falls in love once and stays in love for life. Like my dad with my mom."

"And swans." Sara quietly asked, "Why are we talking about Greg like this, Nick?"

Walking over, he placed a hand on her shoulder, "Because maybe it's time."

"Um, time for what?"

"For you to give Greggo a shot." Smiling sweetly, he said, "The poor boy's been on your heels for years, you know he's nuts about you. What could it hurt?"

"Nick!" Her cheeks flushed. "Is that why you were singing Greg's praises? To convince me to go out with him? I don't tell you who to date, so why are you telling me?"

"I'm sorry for oversteppin' my bounds," he spoke from the heart, "I just feel bad for the guy is all and I've watched you be lonely for years. Now that Grissom's got someone, you..."

"Grissom has someone?" She feigned shock. "Who? How do you know?"

Seeing how hard the news was hitting her, Nick felt bad for letting it slip. "I don't know who it is, but I heard him talkin' on the phone with the movers the other day. Whoever it is, she's movin' in with him."

"Do you think it's Sofia?"

"No, it's not Sofia, that I know."

"Oh." Sara turned, so her smile wouldn't give her away.

"Are you okay?"

She felt bad for not being able to tell the truth, especially knowing Nick's sensitivities about deception. "I'm fine."

"Think about what I said, Sara, because it's a cold hard fact that Grissom is no longer available and..."

"What makes you think I want Grissom?"

"Sara, come on." Nick resumed snapping pictures. "Stop lyin' to yourself. Life's too short to waste it livin' a lie."

Hurrying across the casino floor with the supplies Warrick had requested he grab from the truck, Greg didn't see a cocktail waitress in his path.

"Oh!"

"OH!" Greg saw the poor girl was coated in wine. "I'm so, so sorry! Here." Setting down his stuff, he scrambled to pick up her tray. "I'm such a spazz, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she assured the flustered cutie wearing an LVPD jacket. "Are you here for the dead guy?"

"Yeah."

She whispered, "It's so creepy knowin' there's a dead guy in the bathroom."

"In this town, it happens more often than you think." When Greg handed over her tray he saw the red head's name tag. "Carina."

"Yeah?" the twenty-five year old smiled.

"My buddy Nick, actually he's my house mate, he just told me this morning that he met a cocktail waitress at The Tangiers by the name of Carina. Was it you?"

"Nick Stokes?"

"Yeah."

Carina's expression softened. "How long have you known him?"

"About eight years."

"You live with him?"

"Yeah, we're great buds."

Convinced the man was telling the truth, she asked, "Is he okay? I don't have his phone number. I thought about lookin' it up, but he was already so embarrassed, I didn't want to make it worse by checkin' up on him."

"Uh…"

"He was just so freaked out."

"Oh no, did it happen when he was with you too?" Greg hoped the leading statement would lead to specifics.

"Aww, is a regular thing? The poor guy. I guess if you live with him, you'd know."

"Yeah. How did it happen this time?"

"I was in the kitchen makin' fajitas and he was on the couch watchin' ESPN. Back home, my mama did all the cookin', so I'm just learnin' and I'm real slow." Dabbing her wet shirt with a cloth, she continued, "The poor guy was exhausted and fell asleep waitin' on me. That's when it happened. My dogs, I have two Shih Tzus, Minnie and Mickey, they jumped on him." Placing her hand on her chest, she asked, "What causes him to wake up screamin' and freak out like that? Is it like a Post Traumatic Stress Disorder thing from the job? Because when my cousin Bobby came home from Iraq last year he was sufferin' from that pretty bad. Y'all must see bad things like he did over there."

"Yeah."

"I kinda got a little scared at first because he was so agitated, and he was a stranger. I know, I know, it was a huge risk bringin' a stranger home, but he was so nice and I knew he was with the police department. Heck, any guy who sits through a girl showin' him family photos, has to be a sweetie, right? Anyway, I tried to talk to him about it, to tell him that it happens to my cousin, but he just said he had to go and bolted out the door."

"Uh." Thrown by the girl's story in comparison to Nick's version of events, Greg stammered, "Yeah, um…he's not much of a talker when it comes to personal stuff, even with friends, so don't feel bad."

"Here." Carina handed over her number. "You tell him to call me if he wants a rain check on those fajitas. Us Texans stick together, and like I said, I'm used to it with my cousin, so it won't scare me none now that I know what the problem is. You can tell him I'll put my dogs away when he's there just to be sure."

Greg took the paper. "Okay, but if he doesn't call, don't take it personally. When he gets embarrassed about something, it's hard to…"

"Carina!" The bar manager shouted, "Flirt on your own time!"

"Sorry, gotta go. It was nice meetin' ya!"

"Same here." Unsure of what to do with the information he had accidentally learned, Greg stuffed the paper in his pocket and resumed working.