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Slow on the Uptake

"So what's bothering you?" Venti asked once Earl stepped into the restaurant to check the availability of a table.

"My dad just hit me with some news," Art said, glancing up at his boyfriend. "I'm still not sure if it's good news or bad."

Veti placed a hand on Art's shoulder, engulfing it from sight. "That doesn't sound cryptic at all," he said. "What is it?"

"He bought the Cappuccinos business and made me the owner."

Venti blinked, then blinked again. The words failed to come out of his muzzle for what felt like an hour. "That's..." his voice trailed off, but he managed to force the question out. "You own the coffee house we work at?"

Art nodded.

"That's pretty intense."

Art nodded.

"And you're feeling overwhelmed."

Art nodded yet again.

"You've been managing the place for months now, though," Venti said, a grin forming on his muzzle. "Sure, it'll take some adjustment to actually be an owner, but how hard can it be?"

"Maybe a lot hard," Art said finally.

"Hey, great! You can speak again. I was afraid you turned mute."

"I don't think you're grasping the situation," Art said, patting the hand on his shoulder. "My responsibilities just like got turned up to eleven."

"Eleven million," Venti said with a nod.

"And you're okay with this?"

Venti shrugged, placing both hands on Art's shoulders. "You got this, kitty," he said. "If you can handle me, you can handle owning a coffee shop. This is a golden opportunity, even if you think you can't handle it right now."

"What if I can't?"

"You can, though. We've got people who know how to run things. Singa's owned a lot of franchises, I bet he can help you if you need it."

"Asking your ex boyfriend for help isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Then I'll ask him."

Art looked up at Venti, then moved closer to him, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing his head up against the jackal's bulky body. "You're right. I'm not alone in this."

"I know," Venti said, squeezing his lion gently. "So when do I have to be fired?"

Art jerked his head up at Venti. "F-fired? Who said I'm going to fire you?"

"Alright, then. Not fired. More like let go. I mean, you don't want to be accused of nepotism, do you?"

"You need the job, though."

Venti saw the entrance door open, and he mutter softly "We'll talk about this later. I might not need the job as much as we think."

Art blinked as Venti released him and faced his father. "So, Dad. Did you manage to get a table?"