Since the game began, I’ve uncovered some unexpectedly fascinating truths about my usually private boss—things I never could’ve imagined in a million years. For instance, when he was fourteen, his dad once left him stranded in the middle of nowhere as a ‘lesson’ after catching him skipping school to drink with his friends. It wasn’t until an hour later, when his dad returned, only to find Jason passed out beneath a tree. According to him, he was quite the troublemaker as a teen who constantly drove his father mad. He half-jokingly admits that he’s terrified Jake will turn out just like him at that age.
I was also surprised to learn that Jason Hawkins used to be a state police officer, just like his father and grandfather, until he opened his own restaurant shortly after turning twenty-seven.But the biggest surprise of all was finding out he has a genuine fear of needles and injections, which feels oddly endearing given the number of tattoos he bears.
Getting to know Jason has been both enlightening and amusing. It’s certainly eased some of the nervous tension I’ve often felt whenever he’s around. He no longer seems as larger-than-life as I once thought. Learning about his upbringing, his past, and even his fears has made him feel more down-to-earth, more human—more relatable.
When it was my turn to answer questions, he was equally surprised to learn a few things about me as well—like how I travelled to twenty countries in one year, getting scammed and pickpocketed in a few of them, or how I decided to become a speech therapist after overcoming a childhood speech impediment. He was also shocked to discover that I had been a two-time under-16s champion tennis player, with my name proudly displayed on a plaque at my old tennis centre.
With every new question came an even more intriguing answer. It was quickly becoming my favourite game to play, and to top it off, I’m able to get to know Jason better.
It’s Sunday night, and Jake and I are lounging on the couch, watching a short film about cicadas—the world’s loudest insects. For the past two hours, he’s been filling me in on some surprising facts about the small, ear-splitting creatures. Like how their singing can cause hearing loss if you stand too close, and how they spend most of their short lives underground.
The best part of the night was when he tried to mimic the sound of the tiny creatures.
I laughed so hard, I almost popped a vein. The noise that escaped him was somewhere between a squealing pig and a buzzing mosquito—a sound so bizarre I wasn’t entirely sure humans were even capable of producing it.
The short video ends, and another automatically appears on the screen. Just as I go to click on the next one, Jake asks a question that completely catches me off guard.
“Mila, do you like my dad?”
I freeze mid-breath, my mouth parting slightly as I process his question. “Of course, Jake. He’s become a really good friend. Why do you ask?” I say as I reach for the bottle of water on the coffee table.
“Because he thinks you’re funny and really beautiful.”
I nearly choke on my drink but manage to cough it out quickly. “Oh, well... I, uh...” I stammer, feeling my cheeks quickly warm. “Tell him I said thank you,” is all I can bring myself to say.
“He would tell my mum she was beautiful and then kiss her on the lips. If he calls you beautiful, just be ready. He might kiss you on the lips too.”
I quickly cover my mouth to suppress a laugh and a grin. His childlike perspective, whether innocent or completely absurd, never fails to amuse me.
“I don’t think that’s quite how it works, Jake.” I chuckle softly. “You see, your mum and dad were married, so it was normal for them to call each other sweet names and kiss from time to time. But your dad and I don’t have that kind of relationship. We’re more like friends. We can say nice things to each other and maybe even hug sometimes, but we definitely do not kiss on the lips. Does that make sense?”
“I guess so.” He shrugs.
“Now that’s clarified, how about we watch a video about the greengrocer cicada next?”
He nods eagerly and I click onto the next video in the playlist. For the rest of the evening, we watch a few more short films, then download a children’s eBook about cicadas on my iPad for me to read to him before bedtime.
After Jake has fallen asleep, I quietly slip out of his room and begin tidying up the house. Popping in my AirPods, I start in the kitchen, moving from one small task to the next until I make my way to the other rooms. All the while, my thoughts keep drifting back to Jake’s earlier comment.
I know it was just a simple compliment, one Jason’s probably given to plenty of women before, but still, it doesn’t stop the warm flutter in my chest—and most of all, it doesn’t stop me from wondering if I’ve been on his mind as much as he’s been on mine.
A few hours later, Jason returns and strides into the living room, wearing that wicked grin that could melt anyone within a ten-kilometre radius.
“Good evening,” he greets me, his voice low and raspy.
“Good evening to you, sir.”
He chuckles under his breath as he strolls past me and into the kitchen. Next minute, I hear the sound of the fridge door opening and closing followed by the distinct pop of two beer bottles being opened. Jason returns to the living room seconds later, hands me a beer, and sinks onto the couch beside me.
Whenever Jason comes home from work, we share a beer and ease into the evening, lounging either on the couch or on the deck overlooking the swimming pool. It’s his way of unwinding, and it often serves as the perfect prelude to our little game.
“How was work?” I ask.
“Surprisingly uneventful,” he murmurs just before taking a swig of his beer. “I can’t wait for Chris to return to work though. I’ve fallen behind on the paperwork since I’ve been covering for him at the bar and training my new bartender.”
“How is she going by the way. Gemma, was it?”
“Yeah, she’s doing really well—picks things up fairly quickly. She’s fantastic with the customers, even though she gets hiton more times than I can count. That aside, I’ve been quite impressed with her work ethic so far.”
