The Last Baker
Title: The Last Baker [7]
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.
Dedications: This one is forgatesofshadows for being a great fan and for dedicating her fine work to me too n.n
Prologue
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Six
The squeamish twisting and moaning of my stomach never stopped as I'd hoped it would. Throughout the night I panicked, flittered in and out of restless spells of napping rather than actual sleep. There was just no way I could allow myself to be taken with Brian Haner. We clashed too hard, he was much too self-centered and the idea of butt sex was a foreign and awkward new concept for me. True, I had been thinking of fucking Brian the night he dropped me off, after the goodnight kiss that would haunt me for the rest of my life. The one I'd enjoyed but at the same time, loathed because Brian was forcing me to do something I didn't want to do. And that was like him.
Brian was too much to handle. In turn, I was also too much to handle. If I couldn't deal with myself, how could I possibly cope with him? Brian was ten times more stubborn, ten times more arrogant and ten times more loaded with saucy attitude. He was my idea of the worst employee and I immediately started to regret ever hiring him for the job as my assistant chef. After the weird moment we had in the bakery and the tingly kiss we shared outside of my front door it became apparent that one of us was trying to get to the other. Whether it be him and his relentless flirting, or me with my submission.
The next morning I was a wreck, trying to make my bed perfectly with the proper arrangement of pillows while sporting the heaviest dark bags beneath my eyes. My head felt like it was shrink-wrapped in fatigue. This was Brian's fault. Brian's fault I didn't stop to get myself a coffee on the way to the Gold Lion hotel. I had instructed my employees via phone calls to load up the rental catering trucks at Milan Verde since I didn't feel like making a roundabout trip across Huntington Beach. I wanted to get to the hotel, start setting everything up and then pour drinks down my throat all night to relieve some of the tension I was being squished under. Even though Brian was going to be there, I felt like I could face him better with a little juice in my veins. Who knows? Maybe Brian was punching himself too, telling himself he should have never invited a little shit like me to dinner with him.
Unfortunately, I needed my employees at Milan Verde that day so I was left to do all the setting up by myself. I checked into the hotel, showing my I.D. at reception and acquiring the key to the conference room. The room was a vast expanse of oriental carpeting with burgundy painted walls that were squared off by intricate mouldings of cherry wood. A chrystal chandelier hung brightly in the center of the room and it's prisms cast light of technicolor and white. I wondered if I had overdone the location and thought that maybe I should have just had Greta's retirement party at my house instead. But the deed was done, and the catering trucks would be arriving at any moment.
When the trucks came, hotel management propped open the back door of the conference room so the tables and all of the food could be carried in by uniformed caterers. I sat myself down on a chair and instructed the employees where to put everything. The rectangular tables in one line with the metal containers of food on top of them, the round tables in a cluster before them, the fondue fountain on another table beside my little makeshift buffet setup and the cake that Brian and I had constructed was going into the hotel kitchen where it would be brought out on my word. There were all sorts of activities going on and I could only sit there pointing my finger in command. I was so tired from last night and was in no mood to be moving heavy objects. Sure, I looked like a lazy asshole, but that's exactly how I felt.
I left the conference room and went to the hotel's bar that was situated across from the restaurant. I sat up on one of the bar stools and ordered myself a shot of liquid cocaine and a Red Bull. I needed to regain some energy before I nodded off or something. I was past the point of being over tired and had turned into something of a walking corpse. I felt dead, but I was very much alive. The minutes passing by on my wristwatch told me that.
My restaurant closed at nine, but it would be closing today at eight to accommodate the party. I didn't care what people thought if they were turned down at my restaurant when there was still an hour left of service. This was important. Maybe even more important to me than it was for Greta.
In thoughts of Greta, I realized I had to pick her up. I figured I'd go get her and bring her back, so by the time we arrived at the hotel everyone would already be there. I made a phone call to Nancy and told her what everybody was to do and told her to make sure everything was cleaned up according to my own personal procedure. I instructed her to entertain the guests while I went to pick up Greta. After I paid for my drinks I left the hotel, noticing that a few people were already starting to arrive.
On my way to Greta's house, I rolled down my window and let the wind breeze through my hair. The air was refreshing and did help waking me up a little, so when I got to Greta's house I wasn't feeling as slow as I had been all day. Honking my horn, I waited parked outside of her incredible Victorian residence. She came out a few minutes later wearing a dark purple skirt matched with a pearly blouse and a tweed jacket of violet and shades of blue. Her hair was pinned up in a cascade of curls that hung down at the nape of her neck. She looked so great, it was hard to believe she was old enough to be retiring.
"Zachary, you should have called so I knew when you were coming." Greta scolded me in that nice motherly way.
I shrugged innocently. "You should know better than to expect a phone call. Now get in, we have a night of glitz and glamour awaiting!"
"Where are you taking me anyway?" She asked with a giggle as she got into the passenger side.
"I told you it's a surprise. Don't worry, Zachary has it all worked out."
"You always do." She beamed.
I sped off in the direction of the Gold Lion hotel. While on our way I got several phone calls from guests asking where we were and how long we'd be. I had to answer in code so as to not spoil the surprise for Greta, even if it did confuse the shit out of people.
"You're busier than I've ever seen you today Zack. What is going on?" Greta asked.
"You know, business stuff. It's all good." I waved it off.
"So how is Brian? Is he learning fast?"
I rolled my eyes. "I guess he's doing what he needs to do. But I've been taking care of my own stuff now. I don't need Brian to do it."
"Oh?"
"He just doesn't like to follow procedure, so I don't make him. He just works well in the kitchen." I replied.
When we arrived there were a few recognizable cars in the drive way. I steered Greta clear of anything that might give away what was going on inside. Through the front double doors we went until Greta stopped me.
"Why are we here?" She asked and I couldn't help but grin widely at her.
"Does it matter?" I asked.
Greta narrowed her murky green eyes into inquisitive slits but continued to follow along anyway. I nodded at the female receptionist and she smiled back at me as we took a left down the front foyer to where the conference room was located. Before the doors I stopped and turned to my long time friend.
"I just wanted to let you know, before anything happens tonight, that I appreciate every moment you spent working for me. I feel like you've done much more than just being my assistant and dealing with all of my business. You've been like a second mom to me, Greta. I love you for that." I recited from my heart.
"Zachary, you've been like a son to me. I love you too." She said with glazed eyes before she held out her arms for me to walk into.
We hugged for a long moment and it was then I realized what it meant to have her around. She was the strong, beautiful and talented woman that my mother was. She had seen me at my lowest of lows and my highest high. Greta was there to catch me when I was falling. She was there to take my phone calls when I couldn't. She was there for me to confide in whenever I needed. As I rested in her arms, I felt my heart swelling with the love and appreciation I had for her. It made me tear up, but I sucked back my emotions like vile phlegm before pulling away. Now was not the time to start crying.
"Now," I began as I twisted the door handle. "Let's party."
Everybody was standing in a large group as we walked in. Coworkers, friends and family stood together and yelled 'surprise!' simultaneously. When it was just me alone in the room as the caterers set up, the room seemed dull and lifeless. But now that the chocolate fountain was cascading and familiar faces were smiling, the room was glowing. The smell of delicious food erupted with sensory overload and the look on Greta's face was beyond amazement. She looked positively overjoyed as she approached the crowd of welcoming guests. And just as I looked around with happiness etched into my face, I noticed somebody was missing.
Brian was nowhere to be seen.
I felt an involuntary pang of disappointment hit me in the chest. I was confused. Confused with myself and the feeling that was overwhelming me. Brian wasn't here, and I was upset. But I knew if he were, I would be upset as well. He would find some way to bother me. Or some way to secretly flirt with me among the hoards of people. I would hate him, and I would love him. I'd want to slap the smirk right off his face, I'd want to feel his kiss one more time. But he wasn't there for em to do either.
I immigrated to the table that was decked with champagne stems. I picked one up by the rounded top and gulped it down before setting the glass back on the table. I wiped my lips, and then proceeded to knock down another glass of the sparkling wine. I looked beside the table and discovered a large red cooler full of crushed ice and bottles of beaded Guinness. Somebody must have brought it with them. I didn't care, I just swooped down and lifted one out of the ice by the neck and used my teeth as a bottle opener.
As happy as I was to see Greta happy, I couldn't help but let my discontent flourish as the minutes passed by. I wanted to ask somebody if they had talked to Brian or knew if he had already been here and left. This was unlike him, missing a chance to show himself off. Especially around a bunch of new people. Stupid crush, I thought. For fuck's sake, I was turning into a little girl with a drinking problem.
By the time I was on my third beer the conference room door opened and cheers could be heard. I let my swollen eyes follow the sound of the noise and suddenly I perked right up. It was Brian and he was carrying a box full of... something.
"You all ready to get wasted?" Brian asked aloud.
People swarmed him and emptied his box, leaving with forties of malt liquor. I knew Greta wasn't big on drinking, but when she saw some of the younger employees with heavy bottles of booze, she laughed. I silently wondered if I was even allowed to have excessive drinking in the hotel.
When the people cleared and went back to mingling, Brian caught my stare from across the room. Those velvety lips of his took there infamous shape as he tossed the box on the ground near the door and began to make his way over to where I was sitting, awaiting and full of anticipation. But he wouldn't know that.
"Zachary." He purred before me, cocking his hip like some sort of underwear model.
"Why are you late?" I asked him.
"Not late. Fashionably late." He pointed out.
Ha. I knew he would eventually use that line to justify himself.
"Sorry. Did you miss me?" He asked with a wink.
"No. I just thought you weren't going to show up." I lied.
"Well, I'm here now. Don't you fret. Brian's here." He cooed mockingly as he tipped my chin up.
I smacked his hand away but couldn't stifle a chuckle. Now that things were taking care of themselves and the essentials were dealt with, I could relax myself and have fun. Brian aided in this process by cracking open beer after beer for the both of us as we sat together, somewhat secluded from the rest of the guests. People occasionally strolled by and stopped to talk with us and congratulate me on a job well done concerning the party. Apparently, the chocolate fountain was a hit along with everything else my employees had worked their asses off to make. I couldn't wait to bring out the cake. That would give them something well worth talking about.
When Brian and I were alone once again he leaned over and clapped a hand on my shoulder, squeezing me gently. "You did a fucking great job Zack. I'm impressed. And it takes a lot to impress me."
I scoffed. "Well, I'm glad I could meet your standards Mr. Haner."
Brian smirked at me, cocoa eyes twinkling in the light of the chandelier. "You're past my standards."
"I guess that makes me out of your league then." I said, to which Brian laughed heartily.
Once his laughter died down he leaned closer to me and rested his head on my shoulder. We were both sitting in chairs at an unpopulated table covered with glasses and beer bottles. "I kinda like it when you call me Mr. Haner." Brian whispered, tracing circles with his index finger on my thigh.
"I think you've had a bit too much to drink."
"I don't think you've had enough to drink. Your pants are still on." Brian pointed out.
"This is a retirement party. Not a house party. Everyone's clothes are staying on. Even yours." I told him.
"You're no fun," Brian muttered. "Well, if this is going to be a boring party, you should at least bring the cake out now."
I nodded in agreement and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed the number of the hotel and explained who I was to the very same woman I had passed a number of times today. I requested that the cake be brought into the conference room in ten minutes. Ten minutes would give us some time to talk to everybody and make a speech. I already had what I was going to say playing off in my head.
"Okay, go meet the hotel management at the door when they bring in the cake. Make sure they don't fucking drop it. I'm going to go talk to everybody." I said, rising from my chair and leaving Brian to do as I asked.
I approached Greta who was standing in a circle of her friends, sipping champagne and laughing amongst their inaudible conversation. I came up quietly and smiled as I cut into the circle and waited for whoever it was to finish what they were saying. Something about how their neighbor was shoveling their dog's shit over the fence and into their backyard. It seemed like it might have been a funny story by the way everyone laughed obnoxiously loud.
"Hey Greta, me and Brian have something for you. So we need to get everyone together." I cut in.
"Of course Zack." She beamed.
Some of the older women she was talking to shuffled out of their circular formation and began telling everybody to take a seat around the tables. People did so eventually and once the floor was clear I saw Brian leave through the doors.
I stood up front near the rectangular tables, close to the chocolate fountain and the empty spot where the cake would be set. I saw smiling faces, but Greta's out shone everyone's.
"As you all know, Greta has been working for me for a little over two years now. Previously, Greta taught at a culinary school just north of Huntington Beach. She has spent most of her years cooking for other people, and now, she will never have to cook another damn meal again." I paused for inevitable laughter, "Greta has been the greatest of employees and I'm lucky to have gotten such a talented woman for my kitchen at Milan Verde. But there comes a time, and you reach that age when you don't have to do shit for anyone anymore because you're older and wiser and more experienced than those around you. Once you've spent the greater part of your life working for someone else you can finally retire. And that's what Greta is doing tonight, ladies and gentlemen. And to show my appreciation for this wonderful woman, I've invited you all here to help me thank her in the best way possible."
I took another pause so everyone could clap and cheer. Greta basked in the admiration, her friends congratulated her and she looked so damn happy. Then, the doors opened and Brian appeared with the six tier fuschia cake carried by two cooks behind him. Everybody looked to the right of the room and gasped once mine and Brian's creation came into plain sight.
"I have one more thing for you all to indulge in. A custom made six tier that Brian helped me design and make." After that everybody cheered. The cake was set down in it's spot on the table and everyone's eyes trained to it. Eventually everyone made their way over and volunteered to cut it into slices. I remained at the front and waited until our beautiful culinary masterpiece was reduced to a dilapidated mess of cake and English cream on a large round plate.
"Zachary, you've really outdone yourself today." Greta said as she walked up to me and pulled me in for another hug.
"You deserve it for taking care of my sorry ass for two years." I replied.
"Hey, you should try some. It tastes better than it looks!" I heard Brian say as he made his way over to where me and Greta were standing. He held out two plates and two forks. Greta took hers with a smile.
"Well, I'm going to go entertain my guests some more. Thanks so much boys. You work well with each other." Greta said and then turned to Brian. "And Brian, I want you to take care of my Zachary when I'm not around."
Brian smirked playfully. "I'll take excellent care of him, don't worry."
Greta patted his arm before she made her way off into the crowd of her friends and family. Brian turned to me, still smirking like he knew something the world didn't. He lifted the fork up off the plate and cut a bite sized piece of the pink cake. He moaned while he ate it and let his lips slide off the fork prongs, taking the excess icing with it. "Oh, you should try this. Oh my God. It's awesome."
Without my consent, Brian cut off another small piece and fed it to me. My lip rings made a metallic sliding noise on the fork as Brian pulled it back. He was right. The cake did taste better than anything I'd ever created. The batter was moist and soft, tangy with the taste of strawberries and smooth French vanilla as the fondant was sweet and creamy. The dollop of English cream only served to heighten it's rich flavor. I was surprised at how well it had turned out and found myself allowing Brian to give me more, taking turns feeding himself and then offering me bites afterward.
The hour carried on and most of the food had disappeared. The champagne was running low and the chocolate fountain had been turned off. All that was left of the cake were crumbles and smudges of deep pink icing and the broken candied pearls that Brian had made by hand. The edible flowers were gone and I took that as a sign that everybody would be on their ways home very soon.
As the guests left in groups or pairs, Brian stayed behind to help me clear everything up and leave it for the caterers to pick up. Greta had to leave, for she needed to pack for her vacation to the Bahamas where she had set up reservations in a six star hotel resort off the coast of Cape Santa Maria. She was going to where the water was clearer and bluer than Californian sea and the beaches were white as snow, but the sun blazed over the tropical coastline the way you'd see on postcards and wish you could be under that sun, sipping fruity beverages by the shore. I was envious of her being able to do whatever the hell she wanted now that she was retired from work for the rest of her life yet I still had years and years to go. Nevertheless I wished her the best time possible and gave her another hug before she departed.
Hey look, more beer!" Brian exclaimed as he held up two of the last bottles from the cooler.
I looked over the table and spotted another one of his forties that were half empty. I pointed at it. "Hey look, more booze!"
Brian brought the beers over and lifted the forty, twisting off the lid and downing a significant amount of the liquor.
"Guess you're not driving tonight." I said as I shoved bottles into bulging bags of garbage and wasted food.
"Guess not. Guess you're going to have to take me to your place." Bran concluded.
"Why my place?" I asked him.
"Because you're going to have to drive me back here tomorrow so I can get my car." Brian said.
I stared fixedly at him. Brian still had some kind of nerve, but I supposed I couldn't argue with him. Besides, I didn't want to spend the rest of my night doing nothing. And I knew Brian would come up with some way to entertain me. Even if it was just him and I at my house.
"Fine, let's go then." I said, leading him out of the room and back into the hotel's foyer.
I signed some papers at the front desk and Brian waited idly at my side, his hands clasped behind his back, whistling as if to signify his growing impatience. I glared at him as I scrawled my signature on three different dotted lines. "Thank you for choosing Gold Lion as a place to host your event. If you ever decide to return you can get twenty five percent off any rental of our conference rooms and two free nights in."
I smiled a little fakely at the receptionist. "It's alright, I live in Huntington." I advised her.
"Okay, let's move." Brian urged me.
"Thanks." I said to the woman behind the desk just as we turned to leave.
Brian wasn't wobbly on our way out, in fact, I think he might have even been okay to drive. But something rustling about inside me told me it was a good idea to take Brian home. That warmth and inner tension started up again as we got into my car. I knew something was about to unfold that I would have never foreseen. And even as I dwelled on it, I couldn't pick out what it was or what it could possibly be.
It was Brian's evil little smirk that lead me to believe he had more plans than just coming over to my house. I kept my gaze on the road and occasionally glanced over at the sparkling ink ocean. The sun was about an hour gone and the moon had risen in it's wake to cast it's weak light over the land and water. I sighed as I stared out onto the wide ocean.
"Take me to the beach instead." Brian piped up.
"What? But it's dark out."
"So what? The beach is even better at night. Come on Zack, let's go swimming."
I looked over at Brian, feeling my defensive wall breaking with the strength of his chocolate stare and the charm of his upturned lips. I smiled back. "Alright fine. Let's go to the beach."
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.
Dedications: This one is for
gatesofshadows for being a great fan and for dedicating her fine work to me too n.nPrologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
The squeamish twisting and moaning of my stomach never stopped as I'd hoped it would. Throughout the night I panicked, flittered in and out of restless spells of napping rather than actual sleep. There was just no way I could allow myself to be taken with Brian Haner. We clashed too hard, he was much too self-centered and the idea of butt sex was a foreign and awkward new concept for me. True, I had been thinking of fucking Brian the night he dropped me off, after the goodnight kiss that would haunt me for the rest of my life. The one I'd enjoyed but at the same time, loathed because Brian was forcing me to do something I didn't want to do. And that was like him.
Brian was too much to handle. In turn, I was also too much to handle. If I couldn't deal with myself, how could I possibly cope with him? Brian was ten times more stubborn, ten times more arrogant and ten times more loaded with saucy attitude. He was my idea of the worst employee and I immediately started to regret ever hiring him for the job as my assistant chef. After the weird moment we had in the bakery and the tingly kiss we shared outside of my front door it became apparent that one of us was trying to get to the other. Whether it be him and his relentless flirting, or me with my submission.
The next morning I was a wreck, trying to make my bed perfectly with the proper arrangement of pillows while sporting the heaviest dark bags beneath my eyes. My head felt like it was shrink-wrapped in fatigue. This was Brian's fault. Brian's fault I didn't stop to get myself a coffee on the way to the Gold Lion hotel. I had instructed my employees via phone calls to load up the rental catering trucks at Milan Verde since I didn't feel like making a roundabout trip across Huntington Beach. I wanted to get to the hotel, start setting everything up and then pour drinks down my throat all night to relieve some of the tension I was being squished under. Even though Brian was going to be there, I felt like I could face him better with a little juice in my veins. Who knows? Maybe Brian was punching himself too, telling himself he should have never invited a little shit like me to dinner with him.
Unfortunately, I needed my employees at Milan Verde that day so I was left to do all the setting up by myself. I checked into the hotel, showing my I.D. at reception and acquiring the key to the conference room. The room was a vast expanse of oriental carpeting with burgundy painted walls that were squared off by intricate mouldings of cherry wood. A chrystal chandelier hung brightly in the center of the room and it's prisms cast light of technicolor and white. I wondered if I had overdone the location and thought that maybe I should have just had Greta's retirement party at my house instead. But the deed was done, and the catering trucks would be arriving at any moment.
When the trucks came, hotel management propped open the back door of the conference room so the tables and all of the food could be carried in by uniformed caterers. I sat myself down on a chair and instructed the employees where to put everything. The rectangular tables in one line with the metal containers of food on top of them, the round tables in a cluster before them, the fondue fountain on another table beside my little makeshift buffet setup and the cake that Brian and I had constructed was going into the hotel kitchen where it would be brought out on my word. There were all sorts of activities going on and I could only sit there pointing my finger in command. I was so tired from last night and was in no mood to be moving heavy objects. Sure, I looked like a lazy asshole, but that's exactly how I felt.
I left the conference room and went to the hotel's bar that was situated across from the restaurant. I sat up on one of the bar stools and ordered myself a shot of liquid cocaine and a Red Bull. I needed to regain some energy before I nodded off or something. I was past the point of being over tired and had turned into something of a walking corpse. I felt dead, but I was very much alive. The minutes passing by on my wristwatch told me that.
My restaurant closed at nine, but it would be closing today at eight to accommodate the party. I didn't care what people thought if they were turned down at my restaurant when there was still an hour left of service. This was important. Maybe even more important to me than it was for Greta.
In thoughts of Greta, I realized I had to pick her up. I figured I'd go get her and bring her back, so by the time we arrived at the hotel everyone would already be there. I made a phone call to Nancy and told her what everybody was to do and told her to make sure everything was cleaned up according to my own personal procedure. I instructed her to entertain the guests while I went to pick up Greta. After I paid for my drinks I left the hotel, noticing that a few people were already starting to arrive.
On my way to Greta's house, I rolled down my window and let the wind breeze through my hair. The air was refreshing and did help waking me up a little, so when I got to Greta's house I wasn't feeling as slow as I had been all day. Honking my horn, I waited parked outside of her incredible Victorian residence. She came out a few minutes later wearing a dark purple skirt matched with a pearly blouse and a tweed jacket of violet and shades of blue. Her hair was pinned up in a cascade of curls that hung down at the nape of her neck. She looked so great, it was hard to believe she was old enough to be retiring.
"Zachary, you should have called so I knew when you were coming." Greta scolded me in that nice motherly way.
I shrugged innocently. "You should know better than to expect a phone call. Now get in, we have a night of glitz and glamour awaiting!"
"Where are you taking me anyway?" She asked with a giggle as she got into the passenger side.
"I told you it's a surprise. Don't worry, Zachary has it all worked out."
"You always do." She beamed.
I sped off in the direction of the Gold Lion hotel. While on our way I got several phone calls from guests asking where we were and how long we'd be. I had to answer in code so as to not spoil the surprise for Greta, even if it did confuse the shit out of people.
"You're busier than I've ever seen you today Zack. What is going on?" Greta asked.
"You know, business stuff. It's all good." I waved it off.
"So how is Brian? Is he learning fast?"
I rolled my eyes. "I guess he's doing what he needs to do. But I've been taking care of my own stuff now. I don't need Brian to do it."
"Oh?"
"He just doesn't like to follow procedure, so I don't make him. He just works well in the kitchen." I replied.
When we arrived there were a few recognizable cars in the drive way. I steered Greta clear of anything that might give away what was going on inside. Through the front double doors we went until Greta stopped me.
"Why are we here?" She asked and I couldn't help but grin widely at her.
"Does it matter?" I asked.
Greta narrowed her murky green eyes into inquisitive slits but continued to follow along anyway. I nodded at the female receptionist and she smiled back at me as we took a left down the front foyer to where the conference room was located. Before the doors I stopped and turned to my long time friend.
"I just wanted to let you know, before anything happens tonight, that I appreciate every moment you spent working for me. I feel like you've done much more than just being my assistant and dealing with all of my business. You've been like a second mom to me, Greta. I love you for that." I recited from my heart.
"Zachary, you've been like a son to me. I love you too." She said with glazed eyes before she held out her arms for me to walk into.
We hugged for a long moment and it was then I realized what it meant to have her around. She was the strong, beautiful and talented woman that my mother was. She had seen me at my lowest of lows and my highest high. Greta was there to catch me when I was falling. She was there to take my phone calls when I couldn't. She was there for me to confide in whenever I needed. As I rested in her arms, I felt my heart swelling with the love and appreciation I had for her. It made me tear up, but I sucked back my emotions like vile phlegm before pulling away. Now was not the time to start crying.
"Now," I began as I twisted the door handle. "Let's party."
Everybody was standing in a large group as we walked in. Coworkers, friends and family stood together and yelled 'surprise!' simultaneously. When it was just me alone in the room as the caterers set up, the room seemed dull and lifeless. But now that the chocolate fountain was cascading and familiar faces were smiling, the room was glowing. The smell of delicious food erupted with sensory overload and the look on Greta's face was beyond amazement. She looked positively overjoyed as she approached the crowd of welcoming guests. And just as I looked around with happiness etched into my face, I noticed somebody was missing.
Brian was nowhere to be seen.
I felt an involuntary pang of disappointment hit me in the chest. I was confused. Confused with myself and the feeling that was overwhelming me. Brian wasn't here, and I was upset. But I knew if he were, I would be upset as well. He would find some way to bother me. Or some way to secretly flirt with me among the hoards of people. I would hate him, and I would love him. I'd want to slap the smirk right off his face, I'd want to feel his kiss one more time. But he wasn't there for em to do either.
I immigrated to the table that was decked with champagne stems. I picked one up by the rounded top and gulped it down before setting the glass back on the table. I wiped my lips, and then proceeded to knock down another glass of the sparkling wine. I looked beside the table and discovered a large red cooler full of crushed ice and bottles of beaded Guinness. Somebody must have brought it with them. I didn't care, I just swooped down and lifted one out of the ice by the neck and used my teeth as a bottle opener.
As happy as I was to see Greta happy, I couldn't help but let my discontent flourish as the minutes passed by. I wanted to ask somebody if they had talked to Brian or knew if he had already been here and left. This was unlike him, missing a chance to show himself off. Especially around a bunch of new people. Stupid crush, I thought. For fuck's sake, I was turning into a little girl with a drinking problem.
By the time I was on my third beer the conference room door opened and cheers could be heard. I let my swollen eyes follow the sound of the noise and suddenly I perked right up. It was Brian and he was carrying a box full of... something.
"You all ready to get wasted?" Brian asked aloud.
People swarmed him and emptied his box, leaving with forties of malt liquor. I knew Greta wasn't big on drinking, but when she saw some of the younger employees with heavy bottles of booze, she laughed. I silently wondered if I was even allowed to have excessive drinking in the hotel.
When the people cleared and went back to mingling, Brian caught my stare from across the room. Those velvety lips of his took there infamous shape as he tossed the box on the ground near the door and began to make his way over to where I was sitting, awaiting and full of anticipation. But he wouldn't know that.
"Zachary." He purred before me, cocking his hip like some sort of underwear model.
"Why are you late?" I asked him.
"Not late. Fashionably late." He pointed out.
Ha. I knew he would eventually use that line to justify himself.
"Sorry. Did you miss me?" He asked with a wink.
"No. I just thought you weren't going to show up." I lied.
"Well, I'm here now. Don't you fret. Brian's here." He cooed mockingly as he tipped my chin up.
I smacked his hand away but couldn't stifle a chuckle. Now that things were taking care of themselves and the essentials were dealt with, I could relax myself and have fun. Brian aided in this process by cracking open beer after beer for the both of us as we sat together, somewhat secluded from the rest of the guests. People occasionally strolled by and stopped to talk with us and congratulate me on a job well done concerning the party. Apparently, the chocolate fountain was a hit along with everything else my employees had worked their asses off to make. I couldn't wait to bring out the cake. That would give them something well worth talking about.
When Brian and I were alone once again he leaned over and clapped a hand on my shoulder, squeezing me gently. "You did a fucking great job Zack. I'm impressed. And it takes a lot to impress me."
I scoffed. "Well, I'm glad I could meet your standards Mr. Haner."
Brian smirked at me, cocoa eyes twinkling in the light of the chandelier. "You're past my standards."
"I guess that makes me out of your league then." I said, to which Brian laughed heartily.
Once his laughter died down he leaned closer to me and rested his head on my shoulder. We were both sitting in chairs at an unpopulated table covered with glasses and beer bottles. "I kinda like it when you call me Mr. Haner." Brian whispered, tracing circles with his index finger on my thigh.
"I think you've had a bit too much to drink."
"I don't think you've had enough to drink. Your pants are still on." Brian pointed out.
"This is a retirement party. Not a house party. Everyone's clothes are staying on. Even yours." I told him.
"You're no fun," Brian muttered. "Well, if this is going to be a boring party, you should at least bring the cake out now."
I nodded in agreement and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed the number of the hotel and explained who I was to the very same woman I had passed a number of times today. I requested that the cake be brought into the conference room in ten minutes. Ten minutes would give us some time to talk to everybody and make a speech. I already had what I was going to say playing off in my head.
"Okay, go meet the hotel management at the door when they bring in the cake. Make sure they don't fucking drop it. I'm going to go talk to everybody." I said, rising from my chair and leaving Brian to do as I asked.
I approached Greta who was standing in a circle of her friends, sipping champagne and laughing amongst their inaudible conversation. I came up quietly and smiled as I cut into the circle and waited for whoever it was to finish what they were saying. Something about how their neighbor was shoveling their dog's shit over the fence and into their backyard. It seemed like it might have been a funny story by the way everyone laughed obnoxiously loud.
"Hey Greta, me and Brian have something for you. So we need to get everyone together." I cut in.
"Of course Zack." She beamed.
Some of the older women she was talking to shuffled out of their circular formation and began telling everybody to take a seat around the tables. People did so eventually and once the floor was clear I saw Brian leave through the doors.
I stood up front near the rectangular tables, close to the chocolate fountain and the empty spot where the cake would be set. I saw smiling faces, but Greta's out shone everyone's.
"As you all know, Greta has been working for me for a little over two years now. Previously, Greta taught at a culinary school just north of Huntington Beach. She has spent most of her years cooking for other people, and now, she will never have to cook another damn meal again." I paused for inevitable laughter, "Greta has been the greatest of employees and I'm lucky to have gotten such a talented woman for my kitchen at Milan Verde. But there comes a time, and you reach that age when you don't have to do shit for anyone anymore because you're older and wiser and more experienced than those around you. Once you've spent the greater part of your life working for someone else you can finally retire. And that's what Greta is doing tonight, ladies and gentlemen. And to show my appreciation for this wonderful woman, I've invited you all here to help me thank her in the best way possible."
I took another pause so everyone could clap and cheer. Greta basked in the admiration, her friends congratulated her and she looked so damn happy. Then, the doors opened and Brian appeared with the six tier fuschia cake carried by two cooks behind him. Everybody looked to the right of the room and gasped once mine and Brian's creation came into plain sight.
"I have one more thing for you all to indulge in. A custom made six tier that Brian helped me design and make." After that everybody cheered. The cake was set down in it's spot on the table and everyone's eyes trained to it. Eventually everyone made their way over and volunteered to cut it into slices. I remained at the front and waited until our beautiful culinary masterpiece was reduced to a dilapidated mess of cake and English cream on a large round plate.
"Zachary, you've really outdone yourself today." Greta said as she walked up to me and pulled me in for another hug.
"You deserve it for taking care of my sorry ass for two years." I replied.
"Hey, you should try some. It tastes better than it looks!" I heard Brian say as he made his way over to where me and Greta were standing. He held out two plates and two forks. Greta took hers with a smile.
"Well, I'm going to go entertain my guests some more. Thanks so much boys. You work well with each other." Greta said and then turned to Brian. "And Brian, I want you to take care of my Zachary when I'm not around."
Brian smirked playfully. "I'll take excellent care of him, don't worry."
Greta patted his arm before she made her way off into the crowd of her friends and family. Brian turned to me, still smirking like he knew something the world didn't. He lifted the fork up off the plate and cut a bite sized piece of the pink cake. He moaned while he ate it and let his lips slide off the fork prongs, taking the excess icing with it. "Oh, you should try this. Oh my God. It's awesome."
Without my consent, Brian cut off another small piece and fed it to me. My lip rings made a metallic sliding noise on the fork as Brian pulled it back. He was right. The cake did taste better than anything I'd ever created. The batter was moist and soft, tangy with the taste of strawberries and smooth French vanilla as the fondant was sweet and creamy. The dollop of English cream only served to heighten it's rich flavor. I was surprised at how well it had turned out and found myself allowing Brian to give me more, taking turns feeding himself and then offering me bites afterward.
The hour carried on and most of the food had disappeared. The champagne was running low and the chocolate fountain had been turned off. All that was left of the cake were crumbles and smudges of deep pink icing and the broken candied pearls that Brian had made by hand. The edible flowers were gone and I took that as a sign that everybody would be on their ways home very soon.
As the guests left in groups or pairs, Brian stayed behind to help me clear everything up and leave it for the caterers to pick up. Greta had to leave, for she needed to pack for her vacation to the Bahamas where she had set up reservations in a six star hotel resort off the coast of Cape Santa Maria. She was going to where the water was clearer and bluer than Californian sea and the beaches were white as snow, but the sun blazed over the tropical coastline the way you'd see on postcards and wish you could be under that sun, sipping fruity beverages by the shore. I was envious of her being able to do whatever the hell she wanted now that she was retired from work for the rest of her life yet I still had years and years to go. Nevertheless I wished her the best time possible and gave her another hug before she departed.
Hey look, more beer!" Brian exclaimed as he held up two of the last bottles from the cooler.
I looked over the table and spotted another one of his forties that were half empty. I pointed at it. "Hey look, more booze!"
Brian brought the beers over and lifted the forty, twisting off the lid and downing a significant amount of the liquor.
"Guess you're not driving tonight." I said as I shoved bottles into bulging bags of garbage and wasted food.
"Guess not. Guess you're going to have to take me to your place." Bran concluded.
"Why my place?" I asked him.
"Because you're going to have to drive me back here tomorrow so I can get my car." Brian said.
I stared fixedly at him. Brian still had some kind of nerve, but I supposed I couldn't argue with him. Besides, I didn't want to spend the rest of my night doing nothing. And I knew Brian would come up with some way to entertain me. Even if it was just him and I at my house.
"Fine, let's go then." I said, leading him out of the room and back into the hotel's foyer.
I signed some papers at the front desk and Brian waited idly at my side, his hands clasped behind his back, whistling as if to signify his growing impatience. I glared at him as I scrawled my signature on three different dotted lines. "Thank you for choosing Gold Lion as a place to host your event. If you ever decide to return you can get twenty five percent off any rental of our conference rooms and two free nights in."
I smiled a little fakely at the receptionist. "It's alright, I live in Huntington." I advised her.
"Okay, let's move." Brian urged me.
"Thanks." I said to the woman behind the desk just as we turned to leave.
Brian wasn't wobbly on our way out, in fact, I think he might have even been okay to drive. But something rustling about inside me told me it was a good idea to take Brian home. That warmth and inner tension started up again as we got into my car. I knew something was about to unfold that I would have never foreseen. And even as I dwelled on it, I couldn't pick out what it was or what it could possibly be.
It was Brian's evil little smirk that lead me to believe he had more plans than just coming over to my house. I kept my gaze on the road and occasionally glanced over at the sparkling ink ocean. The sun was about an hour gone and the moon had risen in it's wake to cast it's weak light over the land and water. I sighed as I stared out onto the wide ocean.
"Take me to the beach instead." Brian piped up.
"What? But it's dark out."
"So what? The beach is even better at night. Come on Zack, let's go swimming."
I looked over at Brian, feeling my defensive wall breaking with the strength of his chocolate stare and the charm of his upturned lips. I smiled back. "Alright fine. Let's go to the beach."
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