The ride was only three hours long, so Sage managed to get very little sleep before the early meeting. He had come as Rowan's husband, so even though he had hardly got any rest, his stubborn personality would not let that affect his acting job. Sage began the sixth week utterly exhausted.
If he could not stop him, he might as well help him. Rowan grabbed out clothes from Sage's open suitcase on the bed and handed them off to him. He fixed the doctor's hair after Sage's first failed attempt. He helped him in and out of the car. He offered him an arm to hang on and lean.
"Ah, the Mayles," a man with a kind smile said. He raised an eyebrow at Sage. The doctor had his arm looped around Rowan's arm, and he leaned his head on the side of him. His tiredness was very clear on his face, especially since Sage did not have the energy for the eyeliner that would draw attention away from his tired expression. "Was it a rough drive?" he suddenly asked.
"He was too caught up in his work as a travel doctor and forgot to save some energy. I fear he's a little tired," Rowan answered for Sage, who had not even registered he was being spoken of. He tapped Sage on the hip. The doctor perked up for a moment and looked at the man Rowan spoke with. He gave a half-hearted bow to the man and then dazed off again, leaning against Rowan.
"I don't mean to be rude and push him away, but wouldn't it be good to let him rest?"
Rowan was all in for the idea considering he had told Sage to stay behind to begin with. "That's what I said, but he's so damn stubborn. If you don't mind. I'll bring him home and come back."
"I don't. You said he's a doctor? Our talking might bore him. My late wife had been a doctor. She was never quite interested in my talk of business either," he said with a chuckle.
Rowan nodded. "Pardon the offense then," he said, turning to look at Sage. "Sage," he whispered, but Sage didn't move. He dipped his face closer, his lips brushing against the doctor's ear. Sage jumped slightly, pulling back.
"You think you can just get as close as you want?" Sage said but with no bite at all.
Rowan didn't take offense. "Let me take you back to the inn."
"What are you going to do?"
"Don't you know I wouldn't dare do anything to you? Just drop you off. You're tired. I want you to sleep," Rowan explained. "He offered to let you go. So, I'll be the one to stay late and talk business. You can go enjoy your vacation."
"Oh." Sage looked at the other man who smiled at him. It would be rude to decline the offer when it was given. He gave him a polite bow and turned to leave.
Sage finally secured some good sleep after Rowan dropped him off at their inn. He did not even shower. There was no energy to. Rowan brought him to the room and left, and Sage collapsed on the bed without much of a second thought. By the time Rowan returned, the doctor was awake, hugging his knees on the bed while looking at the T.V. When he walked in, Sage lifted the remote and turned down the volume.
"Why aren't you sleeping?" Rowan asked, kicking off his shoes.
"Fixing my sleep schedule," Sage answered, which was half a lie, half the truth. He didn't particularly care about his sleep schedule at all, but he also hadn't had a conversation with Rowan in a while that wasn't short and to-the-point. The thought surprised himself that he had been wanting to have a proper conversation with the other, but he didn't show it on his face at all, nor did he rush entertaining the thoughts.
Instead, he patiently waited for the other to wash up and get dressed for the night. Sage made it clear with his actions that he wanted Rowan on the other side of the bed even though it had been a few nights since then. He sat on the far-left side, leaving an opening and inviting spot on the right for Rowan to sit. Thankfully, Rowan was already quite bold of a guy. He saw the spot and took it without a word.
"How was it?" Sage finally asked.
"Mm? It was fine," Rowan answered. He sank down a little further in the bed, and in an untrained motion, he held his hand out for the remote. Sage handed it off to him. "We were invited to his place tomorrow if you're willing to come with me."
"'We'? He asked for me to be there?"
"He did."
Sage scrunched his face in suspicion. "Why?" he asked.
"I don't know. He was the one who suggested you turn in early," Rowan said.
"What's his name?"
"Mr. Song. Joran Song."
Obviously, the name wouldn't be familiar to Sage, but he at least wanted to know the guy's name. He suddenly felt kind of tense, like there was a bit of pressure on him, the same way he had felt when Mrs. Claudia requested him to be there as well. Rowan picked up on it, feeling the change in Sage's posture when he sat so close to him.
"Are you nervous?" Rowan asked.
"No. What do I have to be nervous about?" Sage asked with a scoff. "It's not my company that'll go down."
Rowan laughed. "That harsh, sharp tongue of yours," he said.
"You've never seemed to have had a problem with it," Sage muttered.
"That's true," Rowan said with a grin. "I like it a lot."
"Save it," Sage said. He pushed himself to lay back down on the bed and put his back to Rowan. "I'm going back to sleep, so keep the TV down."
Mr. Joran Song lived in a large house in the middle of the big city they visited. He invited the two of them over personally for lunch. Going to their estate made Sage even more nervous. Why did he want him there too?
Rowan explained to Sage that Mr. Song oversaw a large newspaper in the city they were in. The crime in the area was very large and led to exciting stories. However, Mr. Song was afraid of losing people who were reading. Newspapers, at least physical copies, were going out of style. Everything was up to phones and computers; everything was turning into electronics!
Mr. Song feared he would not be able to understand social media, and he needed help building a platform. If he had to switch with the times, then so be it, but he had no idea how to switch over, and he desperately needed a swift and easy way to do so. After two of his jobs in their trip already dealt with creating social accounts, Rowan felt like working with Mr. Song would be easy especially since Mr. Song was not too terribly old and extremely willing to take the hit to his pride and change the ways he had grown up with for his business.
Sage kept to a semi casual outfit. White slacks and a light green turtleneck tucked into his pants. He pulled a white blazer on top in case he got cold since the weather was still a bit chilly. The more east they went, the colder it got. Meanwhile, Rowan tried to match Sage a little bit. He mainly only owned black slacks, so he at least put on a lighter colored shirt. A white, short sleeve shirt with a slightly choking collar. Sage had no idea what part of him asked, but he questioned the short sleeves.
"Huh?"
"It's cold," Sage repeated, staring at his bare forearms. Rowan truly had a good figure. But the question was about Rowan's well-being on getting cold. Clearly. "You're going to get sick if you don't put another layer on."
"I feel fine," Rowan answered with a shrug. "If I get too cold, I'll ask for your jacket," he teased. "After all, husband, I've lent you mine so many times."
Sage squinted at him, his ears getting a bit red, and said "Fine." through clenched teeth.
They were led in by a maid, which was new to see. Rowan hadn't met a lot of rich people with so much in their pockets that they could afford a maid. He began to feel incredibly nervous and did not want to mess up such an important client. Beside him, Sage picked up on the behavior and grabbed his hand, offering a small squeeze.
Rowan's thumb brushed on the back of his hand suddenly. He lifted his hand and kissed the back of it. Sage's eyes darted around to see if the maid leading them had seen the act.
Why else would he have done it if not to play a role? She hadn't been looking. There was no reason to do such pointless things, but Sage didn't get mad either. He passed Rowan a glare, but Rowan answered back with a wide and innocent smile paired with prominent dimples. So, Sage dropped the topic and ignored it.
The two of them were led to a large living room. There was a carpet underneath all the furniture. A round, glass table with an antique map trapped under the glass. Rich chairs and a matching couch sat around it. There was a massive fireplace crackling in the room made of stone and brick. A computer sat on top of the glass table, waiting on the default lock screen.
Mr. Song walked in with a smile. A younger woman was behind him. "Mr. Mayle," he called out.
"Please, that's too formal," Rowan immediately said. "Call me Rowan."
"And your husband?"
"Sage," Sage answered.
"You were so tired the other night, I hadn't had the chance to formally meet you," Mr. Song said. "You also never got to meet my daughter, Aria," he said, pointing to the young woman beside him.
"Lady Song," Sage said, finding that it was appropriate to speak formally with such a rich client. He did not want to mess things up for Rowan either.
"Lady Song?!" Aria exclaimed. "T, that's too much, too. Aria will do. We're all friends here," she said.
Aria was Mr. Song's younger daughter, but she was also his business partner. While she knew much of technology and was up to speed on how it worked, her father was still in the older generation. However, for her to teach him everything would be too much, and she was unsure what he needed to know and what he didn't. Therefore, they called in for Rowan's expertise. They could most certainly afford it.
Rowan could relax. His nerves slowly died down. Sage watched him as he excitedly spoke and dove straight into business on what Mr. Song could do, teaching him the basics of creating an account that was centered around a company rather than personal and everyday use. His eyes lit up with glee, and he spoke while he was sitting on the edge of his seat. With his excitement, it also brought out the young feeling in Mr. Song; speaking with Rowan, the old man suddenly looked twenty years younger.
He was completely in his element. So much so that neither of them realized Aria had grabbed Sage's attention and pulled him from the room. She had told him it was to show him something and discuss some things that were off the topic of business, so she didn't want to stay in the same room as the other two were deeply discussing their passions. Sage followed.