ever since lorcan had hired him, grayson had lingered around blood moon brewery in case any of the ryans needed him. except . . . he hadn’t really introduced himself to any of them. he was sure lorcan must have told them to expect him, and he hadn’t tried to hide his tattoo, so it would seem rude to assume they hadn’t realized his purpose, right? and god, they were so old, they probably didn’t really need him that often.
but every day, the staff served him as a regular customer. he had grown so comfortable in his little corner booth that he often brought his computer or fell asleep. today, though, the manager––damien ryan––was coming in, and grayson knew it was finally time to introduce himself formally. grayson pushed open the door, waving at some of the staff that recognized him. “um, are any of the ryans in right now?” ( @damienryan )