The Last Baker
Title: The Last Baker [6]
Author:![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
shorthorror
Pairing: Brian Haner & Zachary Baker
Rating: NC-17
Summary: This beautiful asshole just came around and started ruining everything for me. I was the last Baker, and I'd promised my father our name would not die with me.
Disclaimer: I am confident the readers can distinguish between what is real and what is fiction. I need not state the obvious.
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
"You look nice tonight." Brian said to me once we were a ways away from my house, cruising down the road bordering the beach coast.
I looked down at my choice of outfit and smiled. "Thanks. You do too, I guess."
"You guess?" Brian said laughingly.
I glanced at Brian sitting at my side, one of his hands resting on the steering wheel and the other at his side. He wore nicely fitting black jeans and a tight print T-shirt underneath a vintage leather jacket that was perfectly worn in. His hair stuck up in those messy spikes, like expertly groomed bed head. His face looked smooth and clean shaven except for the patch of dark hair covering the end of his chin. In a way he looked like me, except more toned and tan. I quickly grew envious of how well he pulled off his look.
"Is that the way you compliment your date?" Brian asked me.
I smirked at him and laughed lowly. "Okay fine. You look great. Is that better?"
Brian shrugged. "I would have gone with 'hello Brian, you look quite handsome this evening. I'm glad to have you as my escort for the night'."
"That's a bit too formal for me." I told him.
"Still better than 'I guess you look nice'."
"You look hot, is that what you wanna hear?" I asked.
Brian pointed at me, that demonic smirk playing on his lips. "Now, do you mean that?"
With a shrug I replied. "Sure."
Brian shook his head. "Just want a straight answer."
"So did you do any more research on this place for your article?" I inquired.
"Nope. I'm just showing up with my hot date as usual, ordering one of everything off the menu and a few bottles of wine and then we're going to kick back." Brian said smoothly.
"I still don't understand why you had to bring me. Couldn't you have brought your girlfriend or something?"
"I don't have a girlfriend. That's why I brought you. You sort of remind me of a chick. Like the way you look when you get mad, and those DSL's and your big green eyes with the lashes." Brian chuckled.
"DSL's?" I inquired.
"Dick sucking lips."
I cocked an eyebrow. "My lips aren't going near any dicks tonight."
Brian reached over and grabbed my chin, squeezing so my lips pushed out. "They don't have to. I have a pretty vivid imagination anyway."
I slapped his hand away. "You're sick!"
"Oh, forgive me for being male." Brian feigned pleading.
The rest of the ride was mostly kept silent except for a couple times when I caught Brian looking at me, that sinister smirk altering his thin lips. I questioned him but he only shook his head, training his eyes back to the road in front of him. If I wasn't quick to deny everything, I would have said Brian Haner was flirting with me. The black lust in his eyes told me dark stories and lead me to believe something evil was going on in his head. I tried to ignore it, but I found myself staring back at him as well.
The rumble of the car's motor soon died as we pulled into the parking lot of The Silver Shell. The entrance was a gate styled walk way with a maroon colored carpet leading into the establishment. The building was about two stories tall, the size of a nicely sized house.
"Cool place huh?" Brian asked rhetorically.
The people awaiting tables were dressed in a moderately formal manner. Dress shirts and the occasional tie, casual dinner dresses and suits in large parties. Brian and I weren't dressed like everyone else. Our exteriors portrayed slight defiance, showed that the both of us sported an attitude. And as we walked past the people in line we got stared at. Brian approached the host, his intimidating smile constantly intact.
"Haner, table for two." Brian showed him with two tattooed fingers.
I couldn't help but let myself smirk as well. All those important looking people having to wait while two punks like us got right in and shown to a square table where a white candle stuck up in it's holder, a low bunch of flowers beside it. The place was tinkling with glasses and soft laughter, cutlery touching china and sparkling eyes everywhere. I eyed plates to see what sort of food I was to expect and saw dishes of half eaten salmon, colorful salads with olives, nuts and sesame seeds, tall drinks and the odd beer bottle. Some people were conversing over a racks of ribs, some were slurping bisques, others were watching the waiters crack open their crab legs. We were shown to a table that was up a set of wide semi spiraling stairs, overlooking the bottom flat of the restaurant.
After we sat down the host set out menus, and so began the professional part of my dinner date with Brian Haner.
Before I could even glance through the list of wines, Brian snatched the menu out of my hand and set it down on top of his. "Um, I was reading that."
"No need. I already told you what you're getting."
I cocked an eyebrow. I seemed to be doing that more and more often around him.
"Everything. Take one bite, tell me what you think and then that's it." He told me.
I scoffed. "That's a horrible waste of food. There are starving kids in Africa that would kill to-"
"Zack, I bet you've never donated a cent to those starving kids. You were born into the lap of luxury with more money than you know what to do with. You live in California, and you are not starving and never have to. So quit the bullshit about the starving children and taste the damn food when it comes." Brian commanded me.
"You are an unbelievable asshole." I said with a giggle.
"But you're slowly learning to love it. Aren't you Zachary?" Brian asked, those soft looking lips of his tugging.
Before I could reply our waiter approached the table and Brian grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together. I looked down at our hands interlocked and tried to pull away, but Brian's death grip prevented me from moving away.
"Have you had adequate time to look at the menus and decide?" The waiter asked in a faked accent.
"No, we haven't looked at the menus. But me and my beautiful date already know what we're ordering."
"Oh, and what would it be for you tonight sir?" The waiter asked.
"One of every entree you have. A basket of hot bread and two bottles of Perrier Jouet Fleur."
"That's a considerable amount of food, are you sure you would like one of each?" The threatened waiter affirmed.
Brian leaned over and winked at the waiter, squeezing my hand as though signaling for me to observe with an intent eye. "Well, I am Brian Haner."
I was enveloped in a remarkable Deja Vu, the way Brian leaned over and winked at the waiter, like the very first time we had met face to face in my office. It was like watching a spell being cast, because after that the waiter smiled and began apologizing to Brian for his stupidity and lack of respect. He then agreed to bring us one of every entree and told Brian that his champagne was on the house. I couldn't deny that I was thoroughly impressed.
After the waiter left, Brian let go of my hand, sat back and smiled. "It's great to be me."
"An ego will eventually deflate." I recited, remembering the words my father had used when I had won my baseball championship at age fourteen.
"Not if it's as big as mine." He said jokingly.
"Why are you so full of yourself anyway?" I questioned him.
Brian sighed, his chocolate eyes stuck to me. "California is the land of the beautiful. You have to have regulation good looks to get anywhere."
"But you're so... so relentless. Have you no self control?" I asked.
"No I don't. If I wanna flirt, I will flirt. And If I wanna use my social status and pretty face to get the things that I want, then I will do so by all means."
"Fair enough." I said with a shrug, unable to argue with Brian's way of life.
"What about you Zack? You have all the physical allure. Don't tell me you don't use your good looks to get what you want from time to time." Brian nodded at me.
"No, I use something a little more powerful. It's called money." I said, unable to control a laugh that followed.
Brian laughed too. "I knew there was something we had in common besides culinary skill."
"What are you talking about? Look at us Brian, we're both covered in tattoos, we have face metal, dyed black hair and an impeccable sense of style. We probably have more in common than we know." I pointed out.
Brian smiled with a contained chuckle. "This is coming from the guy who calls me an arrogant twit, a brat and a big-headed asshole at work."
"Don't pretend like you're not used to it." I said, giving him my own little smirk.
Brian leaned over. "Fair enough." He replied, leering at me like he was a hawk and I was the mouse he had chosen for his prey.
After a significant moment of silence Brian gave a sigh. "So, why did you really agree to come with me tonight? I'm getting a whole bunch of mixed vibes from you. First I think you hate me and then I think you like me. And after I think that you're starting to like me I get the feeling you hate me. So which is it. And be honest, because I can tell when someone's lying to me."
"I don't know what to think of you. You're very unpredictable. But I suppose I came with you because I know were going to have to get used to each other somehow." I confessed.
"Good answer." Brian said after I'd escaped his little trap question.
After what felt like hours of conversation, the first entree arrived along with a bottle of champagne and it's accompanying stemware. The waiter lifted up the bottle, intent on opening it when Brian clasped his hand around the neck.
"Allow me." Brian said and set the bottle down beside him.
The waiter gave him a confused look but didn't hesitate to set down our plates in front of us. "This first entree is a chicken saltimbocca in creamy madeira sauce."
I looked at my plate and thought the presentation was nice, and I liked that the food was still letting off steam. As I looked at Brian I noticed him sizing up the meal and the waiter before smiling. "Keep 'em coming please. My date and I will be very fast with each plate."
If I were the waiter, I'd feel insulted. I would refuse to give a man such as Brian Haner special treatment and probably even tell him to go fuck himself. But I supposed some people were a little more respectful, or maybe just pushovers. The waiter bowed to us.
"As you wish Mr. Haner."
Once the waiter had left Brian cracked open the bottle of champagne, pouring two glasses and handing one over to me. I cupped the stemware and brought it up to my nose, loving the stinging sensation of the carbonates. Brian tipped his glass up. "To being rich and sexy."
I just had to smile. "To being rich and sexy."
After we dinged our glasses together we both took a sip. I swished it around in my mouth before drinking it down, analyzing the flavour and strength.
"Yummy." I remarked.
The first entree we tasted was pleasantly peppery and well cooked. I really had no comments to give to Brian. But I was sure he could make up his own mind about the food. After all, it was his article, I was just tagging along because some unnameable force had driven me to go with him on this outing.
"This is a really nice place. You should give it a good review." I suggest to Brian.
"It is. But I do want to find something wrong. It's always fun to point out the flaws."
"Ha! I knew you got pleasure out of insulting things!"
"Insulting restaurants yes. Not insulting people. I only bring forth their bad traits and force them to take a second look. That's what I'm about. If I can't improve myself, I'll help other improve themselves."
"What if those people don't want your help?" I asked Brian.
"Then I guess you can just call it an insult." Brian laughed.
The next hour and a half was full of talk and taste testing. I swear I had taken one bite of at least fifteen different entrees that were so quick to be discarded that it was almost embarrassing. Roasted Turkey Roulade with sour cranberry sauce and honey mustard, blackened red snapper with diced jalapenos, blanquette de veau, angel hair pasta with grilled shrimp and scampi sauce, baked ziti, hot stroganoff, eggplant parmigiana and multitudes of salads and soups that I couldn't think to name. Brian poured us glass after glass of the champagne that kept coming in floral patterned bottles. But the weird thing was that I wasn't even paying attention to the food much anymore, or the drinks I was sucking down. I was too busy being completely and totally enraptured by what Brian had to say.
He told me about the culinary school he went to after dropping out of college. How he had come around to open his own cake shop and then shut it down because of scouts stealing his recipes and design ideas and exploiting them to unimaginable lengths. Brian revisited his childhood, bringing me along and telling me of how he got interested in cooking from his grandmother who would make extraordinary meals for him when we was a young boy. I was caught up in his reminiscing, intrigued by his stories that actually made him sound as though he had lead a normal life. Brian wasn't just a self-absorbed brat with shit for brains. He was actually raised properly, completed high school and earned his success. It came as a tiny bit of a shock. I'd never considered Brian to be the type of person to live his life honestly.
"What about you? Tell me about yourself." Brian said after taking another gulp of the sparkling champagne.
"Oh, there's not a whole lot about me. I was just a rich kid. My dad was from Italy and my mom was born in Huntington. I only started cooking because it was in my blood to do so."
Brian gave me a wry smile. "Oh come on, there's got to be a million other things about you. Tell me about your tattoos."
I looked down at my half showing sleeves and smirked. "I just wanted to cover my skin in beautiful pictures. Kind of like a 'fuck you' to stereotypes. Because you never see guys with tattoos and piercings rolling in a Beamer or owning their own restaurant y'know? Everyone's skin looks the same, so I wanted mine to be different."
"Well said Baker." Brian said, toasting his glass against mine again.
After Brian and I drank down the rest of our champagne we both burped simultaneously and uplifted in laughter. I sat back in my chair, growing tired of just sitting around and listening to the distorted lines of other people's conversations. Brian sighed dramatically before glancing briefly at his wristwatch.
"Well, I'm about to say fuck this place. It's getting late and we have a party to wake up early for." Brian said.
I nodded in agreement. "You're right. Fuck this place."
"We can make better fuckin' food than these pricks. Let's get out of here date!" Brian rose.
I stood up as well and met Brian around the table where he waited for me. He held out his hand, looked into my eyes and encouraged me to give him my hand with those burnt chocolate orbs. I let him grasp my fingers and raise my hand to his mouth where he pressed a soft kiss to my skin, those deathly eyes boring into me without a break.
"Thank you for accompanying me this evening. Really, I do appreciate it."
"Thank you for inviting me. I'm glad I gave this a chance. You showed me a really nice time." I said in response, feeling the crests of my cheeks turn pink with warmth as the lingering softness of his lips danced on my nerves.
I shrunk into myself as Brian lead me down the stairs, his arm holding strong around my shoulders. He smiled at people as we passed and I merely glanced around like the 'hot date' that I was. Why was Brian acting so proud to have me by his side? I wasn't a celebrity arm candy he managed to snag. I was just the owner of a restaurant, and really, he was just one of my employees. But I put up with his little escapade and acted equally as proud to have Brian's arm around me.
Brian approached the host, holding me tightly to his side. "My employers will be paying our bill, I'm sure you know that since I made the arrangements."
"Yes indeed Mr. Haner, sir. Your arrangements have been settled. It was an honor to have you and your date here at our restaurant. We hope to see you again in the near future." Said the suited man.
Brian gave him a half-hearted salute before escorting me out the doors, past the line of people waiting to be seated and into the parking lot. The night's air was warm and heavy and I could hear the gentle roars from the ocean, waves crashing and trees blowing in the light breeze. The sky was royal blue and dotted with twinkling stars, resembling precious diamonds set in blue velvet. On a Californian night, I couldn't help but fall deeper in love with the state and all of it's perks and natural beauty. Even the crickets added to it's enthralling atmosphere.
Brian opened the passenger side door for me and allowed me to duck into his car before he went around and did the same. From the front seat, The Silver Shell loomed like a dark beast with bright lights that had come to life in the night. There were still hoards of people wishing to get inside even though it was nearly ten o'clock. I was thankful we were just leaving.
"So, the party should be fun tomorrow." Brian said to me.
"Yeah. I can't wait to see the look on Greta's face. She's going to love it." I said, beaming uncontrollably.
"You really love her don't you?" Brian asked admiringly, as though he thought it was cute that I adored her so.
"I do. She's like a mother to me."
"Sad to see her go?"
I nodded. "Yes, but in a way I'm glad she's leaving. She deserves to have the rest of her life handed to her after putting up with my bullshit. She's worked for it."
"I can't wait until I can retire. I'm going to move to France or some foreign place where I'd have to learn a new language." Brian told me.
"Interesting aspiration." I remarked.
The drive back to my house felt considerably shorter than the ride to The Silver Shell. It was like I couldn't get enough of Brian's conversation and then we pulled up in front of my two story beach house, signifying the end of our night. Suddenly my peaked mood had descended.
"I'll walk you to your door." Brian offered as we both unclasped our seatbelts.
As highly unnecessary as it was, I couldn't say no to Brian taking me to my door. The whole night he'd been treating me like I was a real date, like somebody he was trying to impress and get close to. I wondered if it was just his out of work persona or if he was really trying to sway me. If he was, he was doing a good job of it. I hadn't recalled even once feeling the urge to stab him throughout the duration of our night.
"Well thank you for the awesome night. I really underestimated you Brian." I finally admitted, blushing slightly as my comment slipped off my tongue and made him smile too.
"You're welcome. I'm glad you gave me a chance." Brian replied happily.
I put my hand on the doorknob but was cut off by Brian clearing his throat. I looked back and saw him standing there, hands clasped behind his back. He began to whistle and shift his eyes about.
"Yes?" I asked him, removing my hand from the brass handle.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" He asked.
I began to laugh. "No, sorry. Not on the first date." I said jokingly.
"Oh..." Brian said despondently. "Well, how about a goodnight kiss instead?"
I froze for a moment, not knowing if Brian was kidding around with me or not. But by the way his eyes held strong, I got the surging feeling that this was no joke. Brian really did want a kiss from me. I was caught up for a moment, wondering how I should go about doing this. If I really should? Or if Brian was just fucking around with me.
"Seriously?" I asked him.
Brian only smiled. "Well yeah, isn't that what you do after a date? You give them a kiss."
"Like, on the lips?" I asked.
"Yes! What, have you never been kissed before Zachary?" Brian asked teasingly.
"Of course I have!"
"Well than of course it's on the lips. What else were you thinking?"
I blushed, but took a step closer and looked up at him. He was a few inches taller than me so it made me feel kind of girly rising on my tiptoes. I closed my eyes and let my lips find his. Our kiss was chaste, dry, but soft and just when I thought it was over, Brian caressed my jaw line. I heard and felt him breath through his nose as our lips moved sparingly. He took my bottom lip and I took his top lip. The kiss lasted about four seconds before Brian pulled away, but to me, it felt like we had kissed for five minutes. My face was red hot with something. Embarrassment? Anxiety? Perhaps lust? I wasn't quite sure. But my hair was standing on end.
"Goodnight, Zachary." Brian said, his face a silhouette with a smirk of lust, satisfaction and evil.
"Night Brian." I said before I opened my door and stepped into my foyer, closing the door behind me.
After I heard Brian's car pull away, I let out pent up breath and groaned dramatically. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why did I let myself do that? Why had I agreed to kiss him? I shouldn't have even agreed to go out with him in the first place. He was way too much like me. And after spending a intimate and evidently romantic night with him I had realized Brian wasn't really the pompous little shit that I had dubbed him as so early into our meeting. He was great. Brian was smart. He was funny and creative, brilliant, talented. Brian was tall and dark. He was so good looking it itched. I itched because I knew what the feeling boiling in my gut was. From the precise moment in time Brian had asked me for a goodnight kiss, I knew what the acidic gargle in my stomach was.
A crush.
Oh, I could hear my father spinning in his grave now.
Author:
shorthorrorPairing: Brian Haner & Zachary Baker
Rating: NC-17
Summary: This beautiful asshole just came around and started ruining everything for me. I was the last Baker, and I'd promised my father our name would not die with me.
Disclaimer: I am confident the readers can distinguish between what is real and what is fiction. I need not state the obvious.
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
"You look nice tonight." Brian said to me once we were a ways away from my house, cruising down the road bordering the beach coast.
I looked down at my choice of outfit and smiled. "Thanks. You do too, I guess."
"You guess?" Brian said laughingly.
I glanced at Brian sitting at my side, one of his hands resting on the steering wheel and the other at his side. He wore nicely fitting black jeans and a tight print T-shirt underneath a vintage leather jacket that was perfectly worn in. His hair stuck up in those messy spikes, like expertly groomed bed head. His face looked smooth and clean shaven except for the patch of dark hair covering the end of his chin. In a way he looked like me, except more toned and tan. I quickly grew envious of how well he pulled off his look.
"Is that the way you compliment your date?" Brian asked me.
I smirked at him and laughed lowly. "Okay fine. You look great. Is that better?"
Brian shrugged. "I would have gone with 'hello Brian, you look quite handsome this evening. I'm glad to have you as my escort for the night'."
"That's a bit too formal for me." I told him.
"Still better than 'I guess you look nice'."
"You look hot, is that what you wanna hear?" I asked.
Brian pointed at me, that demonic smirk playing on his lips. "Now, do you mean that?"
With a shrug I replied. "Sure."
Brian shook his head. "Just want a straight answer."
"So did you do any more research on this place for your article?" I inquired.
"Nope. I'm just showing up with my hot date as usual, ordering one of everything off the menu and a few bottles of wine and then we're going to kick back." Brian said smoothly.
"I still don't understand why you had to bring me. Couldn't you have brought your girlfriend or something?"
"I don't have a girlfriend. That's why I brought you. You sort of remind me of a chick. Like the way you look when you get mad, and those DSL's and your big green eyes with the lashes." Brian chuckled.
"DSL's?" I inquired.
"Dick sucking lips."
I cocked an eyebrow. "My lips aren't going near any dicks tonight."
Brian reached over and grabbed my chin, squeezing so my lips pushed out. "They don't have to. I have a pretty vivid imagination anyway."
I slapped his hand away. "You're sick!"
"Oh, forgive me for being male." Brian feigned pleading.
The rest of the ride was mostly kept silent except for a couple times when I caught Brian looking at me, that sinister smirk altering his thin lips. I questioned him but he only shook his head, training his eyes back to the road in front of him. If I wasn't quick to deny everything, I would have said Brian Haner was flirting with me. The black lust in his eyes told me dark stories and lead me to believe something evil was going on in his head. I tried to ignore it, but I found myself staring back at him as well.
The rumble of the car's motor soon died as we pulled into the parking lot of The Silver Shell. The entrance was a gate styled walk way with a maroon colored carpet leading into the establishment. The building was about two stories tall, the size of a nicely sized house.
"Cool place huh?" Brian asked rhetorically.
The people awaiting tables were dressed in a moderately formal manner. Dress shirts and the occasional tie, casual dinner dresses and suits in large parties. Brian and I weren't dressed like everyone else. Our exteriors portrayed slight defiance, showed that the both of us sported an attitude. And as we walked past the people in line we got stared at. Brian approached the host, his intimidating smile constantly intact.
"Haner, table for two." Brian showed him with two tattooed fingers.
I couldn't help but let myself smirk as well. All those important looking people having to wait while two punks like us got right in and shown to a square table where a white candle stuck up in it's holder, a low bunch of flowers beside it. The place was tinkling with glasses and soft laughter, cutlery touching china and sparkling eyes everywhere. I eyed plates to see what sort of food I was to expect and saw dishes of half eaten salmon, colorful salads with olives, nuts and sesame seeds, tall drinks and the odd beer bottle. Some people were conversing over a racks of ribs, some were slurping bisques, others were watching the waiters crack open their crab legs. We were shown to a table that was up a set of wide semi spiraling stairs, overlooking the bottom flat of the restaurant.
After we sat down the host set out menus, and so began the professional part of my dinner date with Brian Haner.
Before I could even glance through the list of wines, Brian snatched the menu out of my hand and set it down on top of his. "Um, I was reading that."
"No need. I already told you what you're getting."
I cocked an eyebrow. I seemed to be doing that more and more often around him.
"Everything. Take one bite, tell me what you think and then that's it." He told me.
I scoffed. "That's a horrible waste of food. There are starving kids in Africa that would kill to-"
"Zack, I bet you've never donated a cent to those starving kids. You were born into the lap of luxury with more money than you know what to do with. You live in California, and you are not starving and never have to. So quit the bullshit about the starving children and taste the damn food when it comes." Brian commanded me.
"You are an unbelievable asshole." I said with a giggle.
"But you're slowly learning to love it. Aren't you Zachary?" Brian asked, those soft looking lips of his tugging.
Before I could reply our waiter approached the table and Brian grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together. I looked down at our hands interlocked and tried to pull away, but Brian's death grip prevented me from moving away.
"Have you had adequate time to look at the menus and decide?" The waiter asked in a faked accent.
"No, we haven't looked at the menus. But me and my beautiful date already know what we're ordering."
"Oh, and what would it be for you tonight sir?" The waiter asked.
"One of every entree you have. A basket of hot bread and two bottles of Perrier Jouet Fleur."
"That's a considerable amount of food, are you sure you would like one of each?" The threatened waiter affirmed.
Brian leaned over and winked at the waiter, squeezing my hand as though signaling for me to observe with an intent eye. "Well, I am Brian Haner."
I was enveloped in a remarkable Deja Vu, the way Brian leaned over and winked at the waiter, like the very first time we had met face to face in my office. It was like watching a spell being cast, because after that the waiter smiled and began apologizing to Brian for his stupidity and lack of respect. He then agreed to bring us one of every entree and told Brian that his champagne was on the house. I couldn't deny that I was thoroughly impressed.
After the waiter left, Brian let go of my hand, sat back and smiled. "It's great to be me."
"An ego will eventually deflate." I recited, remembering the words my father had used when I had won my baseball championship at age fourteen.
"Not if it's as big as mine." He said jokingly.
"Why are you so full of yourself anyway?" I questioned him.
Brian sighed, his chocolate eyes stuck to me. "California is the land of the beautiful. You have to have regulation good looks to get anywhere."
"But you're so... so relentless. Have you no self control?" I asked.
"No I don't. If I wanna flirt, I will flirt. And If I wanna use my social status and pretty face to get the things that I want, then I will do so by all means."
"Fair enough." I said with a shrug, unable to argue with Brian's way of life.
"What about you Zack? You have all the physical allure. Don't tell me you don't use your good looks to get what you want from time to time." Brian nodded at me.
"No, I use something a little more powerful. It's called money." I said, unable to control a laugh that followed.
Brian laughed too. "I knew there was something we had in common besides culinary skill."
"What are you talking about? Look at us Brian, we're both covered in tattoos, we have face metal, dyed black hair and an impeccable sense of style. We probably have more in common than we know." I pointed out.
Brian smiled with a contained chuckle. "This is coming from the guy who calls me an arrogant twit, a brat and a big-headed asshole at work."
"Don't pretend like you're not used to it." I said, giving him my own little smirk.
Brian leaned over. "Fair enough." He replied, leering at me like he was a hawk and I was the mouse he had chosen for his prey.
After a significant moment of silence Brian gave a sigh. "So, why did you really agree to come with me tonight? I'm getting a whole bunch of mixed vibes from you. First I think you hate me and then I think you like me. And after I think that you're starting to like me I get the feeling you hate me. So which is it. And be honest, because I can tell when someone's lying to me."
"I don't know what to think of you. You're very unpredictable. But I suppose I came with you because I know were going to have to get used to each other somehow." I confessed.
"Good answer." Brian said after I'd escaped his little trap question.
After what felt like hours of conversation, the first entree arrived along with a bottle of champagne and it's accompanying stemware. The waiter lifted up the bottle, intent on opening it when Brian clasped his hand around the neck.
"Allow me." Brian said and set the bottle down beside him.
The waiter gave him a confused look but didn't hesitate to set down our plates in front of us. "This first entree is a chicken saltimbocca in creamy madeira sauce."
I looked at my plate and thought the presentation was nice, and I liked that the food was still letting off steam. As I looked at Brian I noticed him sizing up the meal and the waiter before smiling. "Keep 'em coming please. My date and I will be very fast with each plate."
If I were the waiter, I'd feel insulted. I would refuse to give a man such as Brian Haner special treatment and probably even tell him to go fuck himself. But I supposed some people were a little more respectful, or maybe just pushovers. The waiter bowed to us.
"As you wish Mr. Haner."
Once the waiter had left Brian cracked open the bottle of champagne, pouring two glasses and handing one over to me. I cupped the stemware and brought it up to my nose, loving the stinging sensation of the carbonates. Brian tipped his glass up. "To being rich and sexy."
I just had to smile. "To being rich and sexy."
After we dinged our glasses together we both took a sip. I swished it around in my mouth before drinking it down, analyzing the flavour and strength.
"Yummy." I remarked.
The first entree we tasted was pleasantly peppery and well cooked. I really had no comments to give to Brian. But I was sure he could make up his own mind about the food. After all, it was his article, I was just tagging along because some unnameable force had driven me to go with him on this outing.
"This is a really nice place. You should give it a good review." I suggest to Brian.
"It is. But I do want to find something wrong. It's always fun to point out the flaws."
"Ha! I knew you got pleasure out of insulting things!"
"Insulting restaurants yes. Not insulting people. I only bring forth their bad traits and force them to take a second look. That's what I'm about. If I can't improve myself, I'll help other improve themselves."
"What if those people don't want your help?" I asked Brian.
"Then I guess you can just call it an insult." Brian laughed.
The next hour and a half was full of talk and taste testing. I swear I had taken one bite of at least fifteen different entrees that were so quick to be discarded that it was almost embarrassing. Roasted Turkey Roulade with sour cranberry sauce and honey mustard, blackened red snapper with diced jalapenos, blanquette de veau, angel hair pasta with grilled shrimp and scampi sauce, baked ziti, hot stroganoff, eggplant parmigiana and multitudes of salads and soups that I couldn't think to name. Brian poured us glass after glass of the champagne that kept coming in floral patterned bottles. But the weird thing was that I wasn't even paying attention to the food much anymore, or the drinks I was sucking down. I was too busy being completely and totally enraptured by what Brian had to say.
He told me about the culinary school he went to after dropping out of college. How he had come around to open his own cake shop and then shut it down because of scouts stealing his recipes and design ideas and exploiting them to unimaginable lengths. Brian revisited his childhood, bringing me along and telling me of how he got interested in cooking from his grandmother who would make extraordinary meals for him when we was a young boy. I was caught up in his reminiscing, intrigued by his stories that actually made him sound as though he had lead a normal life. Brian wasn't just a self-absorbed brat with shit for brains. He was actually raised properly, completed high school and earned his success. It came as a tiny bit of a shock. I'd never considered Brian to be the type of person to live his life honestly.
"What about you? Tell me about yourself." Brian said after taking another gulp of the sparkling champagne.
"Oh, there's not a whole lot about me. I was just a rich kid. My dad was from Italy and my mom was born in Huntington. I only started cooking because it was in my blood to do so."
Brian gave me a wry smile. "Oh come on, there's got to be a million other things about you. Tell me about your tattoos."
I looked down at my half showing sleeves and smirked. "I just wanted to cover my skin in beautiful pictures. Kind of like a 'fuck you' to stereotypes. Because you never see guys with tattoos and piercings rolling in a Beamer or owning their own restaurant y'know? Everyone's skin looks the same, so I wanted mine to be different."
"Well said Baker." Brian said, toasting his glass against mine again.
After Brian and I drank down the rest of our champagne we both burped simultaneously and uplifted in laughter. I sat back in my chair, growing tired of just sitting around and listening to the distorted lines of other people's conversations. Brian sighed dramatically before glancing briefly at his wristwatch.
"Well, I'm about to say fuck this place. It's getting late and we have a party to wake up early for." Brian said.
I nodded in agreement. "You're right. Fuck this place."
"We can make better fuckin' food than these pricks. Let's get out of here date!" Brian rose.
I stood up as well and met Brian around the table where he waited for me. He held out his hand, looked into my eyes and encouraged me to give him my hand with those burnt chocolate orbs. I let him grasp my fingers and raise my hand to his mouth where he pressed a soft kiss to my skin, those deathly eyes boring into me without a break.
"Thank you for accompanying me this evening. Really, I do appreciate it."
"Thank you for inviting me. I'm glad I gave this a chance. You showed me a really nice time." I said in response, feeling the crests of my cheeks turn pink with warmth as the lingering softness of his lips danced on my nerves.
I shrunk into myself as Brian lead me down the stairs, his arm holding strong around my shoulders. He smiled at people as we passed and I merely glanced around like the 'hot date' that I was. Why was Brian acting so proud to have me by his side? I wasn't a celebrity arm candy he managed to snag. I was just the owner of a restaurant, and really, he was just one of my employees. But I put up with his little escapade and acted equally as proud to have Brian's arm around me.
Brian approached the host, holding me tightly to his side. "My employers will be paying our bill, I'm sure you know that since I made the arrangements."
"Yes indeed Mr. Haner, sir. Your arrangements have been settled. It was an honor to have you and your date here at our restaurant. We hope to see you again in the near future." Said the suited man.
Brian gave him a half-hearted salute before escorting me out the doors, past the line of people waiting to be seated and into the parking lot. The night's air was warm and heavy and I could hear the gentle roars from the ocean, waves crashing and trees blowing in the light breeze. The sky was royal blue and dotted with twinkling stars, resembling precious diamonds set in blue velvet. On a Californian night, I couldn't help but fall deeper in love with the state and all of it's perks and natural beauty. Even the crickets added to it's enthralling atmosphere.
Brian opened the passenger side door for me and allowed me to duck into his car before he went around and did the same. From the front seat, The Silver Shell loomed like a dark beast with bright lights that had come to life in the night. There were still hoards of people wishing to get inside even though it was nearly ten o'clock. I was thankful we were just leaving.
"So, the party should be fun tomorrow." Brian said to me.
"Yeah. I can't wait to see the look on Greta's face. She's going to love it." I said, beaming uncontrollably.
"You really love her don't you?" Brian asked admiringly, as though he thought it was cute that I adored her so.
"I do. She's like a mother to me."
"Sad to see her go?"
I nodded. "Yes, but in a way I'm glad she's leaving. She deserves to have the rest of her life handed to her after putting up with my bullshit. She's worked for it."
"I can't wait until I can retire. I'm going to move to France or some foreign place where I'd have to learn a new language." Brian told me.
"Interesting aspiration." I remarked.
The drive back to my house felt considerably shorter than the ride to The Silver Shell. It was like I couldn't get enough of Brian's conversation and then we pulled up in front of my two story beach house, signifying the end of our night. Suddenly my peaked mood had descended.
"I'll walk you to your door." Brian offered as we both unclasped our seatbelts.
As highly unnecessary as it was, I couldn't say no to Brian taking me to my door. The whole night he'd been treating me like I was a real date, like somebody he was trying to impress and get close to. I wondered if it was just his out of work persona or if he was really trying to sway me. If he was, he was doing a good job of it. I hadn't recalled even once feeling the urge to stab him throughout the duration of our night.
"Well thank you for the awesome night. I really underestimated you Brian." I finally admitted, blushing slightly as my comment slipped off my tongue and made him smile too.
"You're welcome. I'm glad you gave me a chance." Brian replied happily.
I put my hand on the doorknob but was cut off by Brian clearing his throat. I looked back and saw him standing there, hands clasped behind his back. He began to whistle and shift his eyes about.
"Yes?" I asked him, removing my hand from the brass handle.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" He asked.
I began to laugh. "No, sorry. Not on the first date." I said jokingly.
"Oh..." Brian said despondently. "Well, how about a goodnight kiss instead?"
I froze for a moment, not knowing if Brian was kidding around with me or not. But by the way his eyes held strong, I got the surging feeling that this was no joke. Brian really did want a kiss from me. I was caught up for a moment, wondering how I should go about doing this. If I really should? Or if Brian was just fucking around with me.
"Seriously?" I asked him.
Brian only smiled. "Well yeah, isn't that what you do after a date? You give them a kiss."
"Like, on the lips?" I asked.
"Yes! What, have you never been kissed before Zachary?" Brian asked teasingly.
"Of course I have!"
"Well than of course it's on the lips. What else were you thinking?"
I blushed, but took a step closer and looked up at him. He was a few inches taller than me so it made me feel kind of girly rising on my tiptoes. I closed my eyes and let my lips find his. Our kiss was chaste, dry, but soft and just when I thought it was over, Brian caressed my jaw line. I heard and felt him breath through his nose as our lips moved sparingly. He took my bottom lip and I took his top lip. The kiss lasted about four seconds before Brian pulled away, but to me, it felt like we had kissed for five minutes. My face was red hot with something. Embarrassment? Anxiety? Perhaps lust? I wasn't quite sure. But my hair was standing on end.
"Goodnight, Zachary." Brian said, his face a silhouette with a smirk of lust, satisfaction and evil.
"Night Brian." I said before I opened my door and stepped into my foyer, closing the door behind me.
After I heard Brian's car pull away, I let out pent up breath and groaned dramatically. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why did I let myself do that? Why had I agreed to kiss him? I shouldn't have even agreed to go out with him in the first place. He was way too much like me. And after spending a intimate and evidently romantic night with him I had realized Brian wasn't really the pompous little shit that I had dubbed him as so early into our meeting. He was great. Brian was smart. He was funny and creative, brilliant, talented. Brian was tall and dark. He was so good looking it itched. I itched because I knew what the feeling boiling in my gut was. From the precise moment in time Brian had asked me for a goodnight kiss, I knew what the acidic gargle in my stomach was.
A crush.
Oh, I could hear my father spinning in his grave now.
my gosh that was adorable x)))
cannot WAIT till there's more
So so sosososo good!
You're amazing.
And it's sooooooooo cute that Zack has a crush on Brian. Teehee.