Deuce sighed as he took a quick walk through at his kitchen. In his opinion, it was a wreck but he couldn't be too picky, after all his restaurant was the best -which meant the busiest- out there. Who knew a 23 year old gorgon could accomplish so much with only having graduated high school five years ago? But something was missing from all the fame and glory...He just didn't know what. Was it a new oven? Or did he need another top notch chef to improve the quality?
He knew he couldn't live forever, but he was trying to do things at his own pace. Eventually he'd find a pretty calm, collected, sufficient ghoul, pay off his mansion -and hopefully get a larger one with a much better staff- and die into his golden years then go to wherever he was going at an old age. Was it that time? He shook his head and sighed, "Nah..."
He heard the small bell ding in the next room connected to his office. Usually whenever that bell dung something was wrong because nobody usually just walks into his office for a simple conversation. He groaned, "This had better be good..."
It was Heath, of corpse. The flame elemental had probably overcooked the soup again and the customer was angry about it. Deuce asked in a serious tone, "Heath, what brings you into my office?"
He stuttered, "W-Well you see, I um...Sorta burnt the chicken for the soup and it got served before I could report-"
"Oh lord...Look, we've gone over this dozens of times! You don't SORTA burn things, it's either undercooked, cooked, perfect, a little overdone, overdone or overcooked! NEVER in between!" The gorgon growled, furious with his employee's explanation.
"Look dude I'm sorry, it's just chicken..."
"Just chicken? HEATH, we use the best and I mean the best chicken on the planet and you BURNT chicken that can't just be found at a supermarket for five dollars!"
"So replace it with cheaper stuff-"
"Heath! I am your boss and I control what I decide we should use in our meals and I decide we should give our customers the BEST food they could possibly dine on!"
"I get that but dude, you need to chill out! Don't you have a wife?"
"No Heath, you've asked me that a million times and I'm simply not ready to put up with another woman...After Cleo went and broke my heart by dating Clawd."
"Dude, I hear she runs a killer fashion shop down the street!"
He had enough of Heath for one day. He growled, "Get out of my office."
"Why?"
"JUST GET OUT! GET OUT BECAUSE I TOLD YOU SO!"
Before the fire elemental could say another word, he slammed the door and locked it immediately afterwards. He couldn't believe what conversation he just heard. Cleo? In business? Him? Yelling at a high school friend? What was up with him? Now he couldn't get the Egyptian princess he was shattered by so many years ago out of his head.
He wanted her out but she just got stronger every given minute. Moments later, he got a migraine from thinking about her, the yelling, everything that just happened. He went into his mini cupboard to grab an aspirin, then consumed it with a drink of water trailing behind it. He sighed, "Maybe I'll forget about her. Yeah, maybe. But for now, I'm taking the night off."
He grabbed his jacket, keys, papers and took off for home.
Meanwhile, Cleo spun to her file cabinet as she tried to find a couple's records on a line they were attempting to sell. She had to admit, the line was rather interesting and was sure to bring in lots of profit if she were to purchase the trademark and all that came with it.
The woman, a werecat, asked in a heavily scrench accent, "Have you found the records yet?"
"Not yet ma'am! I think I'm getting close to them!"
"Take your time! I was just checking because your awfully quiet..."
"Oh you know fashion designers, busy, busy, and even more busy!"
"Oh I bet your not as busy as Mr. Gorgon who runs the restaurant down the street! Oh my Ghoul he's busy! Did you know it's famous and one of the best places to eat in the world?"
"Oddly enough I haven't. Do you know him?"
"Oh yes, he was a friend in high school! Remember, Deuce? Captian of the casketball team?"
"Hm? I've heard of him but never met him..."
"Did you break up with Clawd?"
"Oh yes, a long time back..."
"Are you single now or-?"
"Very single."
"I hear he's single too!"
"Catrine, you are not going to set me up with a chef. Fashion designer plus Chef? Not a good combo."
"Oh come on! Even Draculaura wants you two to hook up!"
"Draculaura does? Has that honeymoon gotten to her brain or something because a stranger and a mummy? Nope!"
"You've seen Deuce, he was that punk gorgon-"
"Still, NO!"
"Please?"
She finally found the records, and right in time too. She was pulling out the big eyes when begging. She growled, "Here are those papers, now from the looks of things it appears you have created successful lines before so I will accept your request. Sign the contract and your good to go."
She handed the werecat the contract and she gladly signed, and with a quick pace too. Catrine chimed as she nearly skipped out the door, arm in arm with her boyfriend, "Thank you!"
The mummy sighed, "No problem."
Now she couldn't get him out of her head. And by him, she meant Deuce. It all came back to her. The gym...fearleading...the boys...Snakehead...She tried to get him to go but he wouldn't. So she opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of aspirin and consumed one with an energy drink following it. She growled, "Ra damn it I need to get some water in here..."
A half hour later, she couldn't take it anymore. He wouldn't get out of her mind, so she decided to close up shop early to see if a cup of clawffee on her porch would get him out.