Tony: Dr. Richards' Littles

“You’re not from around here, are you, Tony?” Rob asked looking past him to his motorcycle with the attached sleeping bag and duffle. “No, sir. I came here to go to school. I grew up in Lincoln in the next state over,” Tony admitted. His smile faded. “I’ll be honest with you, sir. I left town because the local sheriff was trying to put me away for dating one of his children. He didn’t care for me much. It was better for me to move on,” Tony said simply. “Oh, he didn’t like you dating his daughter, huh?” Rob said with a chuckle. “No, sir. . . his son,” Tony watched him carefully to see if his sexual preference would keep him from getting this job. Rob looked at him carefully. “I see. I’m Rob Harris, the owner of this garage. Bring your fancy certificates with you and come back to the office. I’ll buy you a soda and we’ll talk. You may decide that my shop isn’t what you’re looking for but I need a break any way and I could really use some help.” Rob watched as Tony’s generous lips spread into a big grin.