"Justin, you OUTDID yourself!" Lindsey cried, continuing to lavish him with accolades. "I can't thank you enough," she repeated, as she gave him a joyous hug and continued to stare in wonder at the dinosaur cake. The detail on the cake was exquisite – from his sharp, razor teeth to its multi-scaled hump down to its rubbery tail. "I knew you could do it, though…..In fact, I've been singing your praises to Gus' dad…he needs a cake for a special occasion, too." Turning to look at Brian, who had a strange look on his face, Lindsay said courteously, "Brian, this is Justin Taylor - isn't he wonderful?" As everyone turned to look at Brian, Justin finally had a chance to notice the stranger standing by Lindsey's side. He was stunned to see that it was his perpetrator from earlier today at the store.
The brunet's face had darkened in instant recognition the moment he had gotten a good look at the cake designer; he simply snarled one word out loud. "You!" He stared agape at the unbelievable irony.
Lindsey bounced her attention from her friend to the talented cake artist in confusion; the tension between the two men was thick as Brian glared at the cake artiste extraordinaire, who merely gazed back at the brunet with an innocent look on his face.
"Brian!" Lindsey scolded him, astonished. "What has gotten into you?" she peered at him with puzzlement and embarrassment. When she had asked him to accompany her to pick up Gus' cake, she had certainly never expected him to react like this. Just what was going on here?
"I'll tell you what's gotten into me," he retorted, his hands on his hips as he continued to stare daggers at Justin. "Lindsey….meet the little blonde chipmunk," he announced grandly with a flourish, his eyes slanting with aggravation. He was shocked, however, when he heard her actually laugh at his statement. That was not the reaction he had expected from her.
"Oh, Justin……," she giggled, turning to acknowledge the cake designer. "You really put a huge damper on Brian's plans for Gus' birthday gift," she informed him. "He told me about the Great Dimetrodon Kidnapping at Steel City," she explained. "I'm impressed - there aren't too many men who can stand up to the great Brian Kinney."
Justin scrutinized the elegant, tall brunet man still glaring at him; he hadn't been so intent on his quest earlier in the store that he hadn't failed to notice how attractive his rival dinosaur hunter had been. However, as he unexpectedly found himself with the opportunity to take a more leisurely examination of the man, he had time to notice more details – the slightly tousled auburn hair with touches of blond tinged with a little red, the flashing hazel eyes that were currently large and expressive with specks of gold, the long tapered fingers on the toned hands. Not to mention the body – sculpted, muscular but not overly so. A very classy, handsome package – at least outwardly. Too bad the man didn't have the manners to go along with it, he thought with consternation.
"Well, I guess you two have met already," Lindsey declared, with just a hint of glee. Any man that could face Brian Kinney – and come out triumphant – had to be pretty special. This might be interesting, she thought. She would have never thought of the two of them together, but all of a sudden she found herself contemplating just that. She knew Michael had always carried a not-so-secret torch for Brian's affections, but she also knew he was wasting his time. He needed someone passionate, creative, and intelligent – someone who could keep up with him. Maybe someone like this talented man standing in front of her?
Brian corrected her. "He didn't put one over on me," he clarified icily. "He fucking stole it out from under me," he contended, scorn dripping from his voice as the two continued to lock horns.
Justin snorted. "Oh, come on! I had that dinosaur before you did, and you know it!" He shrugged his shoulders casually. "Besides, turns out it was going for the same cause, anyhow. What's the big deal?" He couldn't understand why the other man was so upset – it was just a toy.
Brian, however, was not so easily appeased. "The big deal is that I was going to give it to my son – NOT let some half-baked twit give it to him!" He crossed his arms over his chest in an air of superiority; Gus was HIS son…how dare this man intrude?
Justin shook his head in disgust; how totally immature and rude this man was. Didn't he realize that he needed the dinosaur as a model for his own son's CAKE? Shaking his head in contempt, he turned abruptly on his heel and walked back toward the rear of the shop, as Emmett sputtered after him, "Baby, wait! We have to get Gus's cake out to the car for his birthday!"
"Let his big, bad daddy take care of it!" he shouted over his shoulder as he tromped back to his small design studio set up in a corner of the shop's rear. This was the "guts" of his part of the operation; the back room held not only two large, industrial size ovens and several yards of counter space for assembling his finished product, it also had room for a couple of drafting tables where he actually designed his one-of-a-kind cakes. As he looked around and finally located what he had been searching for, he snatched up the object and returned to the store's display area.
Now clutching the much-sought-after and ballyhooed prize firmly in his slender hand, he shouted, "Here!" reaching over to roughly take the other man's arm and slam the toy dinosaur down into Brian's now outstretched one. "And good luck wrapping it!" With a growl, he pivoted and stomped back toward the rear of the store, muttering under his breath and leaving an astonished Brian, amused Lindsey, and mortified Emmett in his wake.
"Well," Emmett said awkwardly, his eyes darting back and forth between Gus' parents as he bit his lip nervously. "I….guess that about wraps things up……Was there….. anything else?" He asked tentatively. He had most of the party planned out already; that was, if Lindsey still wanted him to do it. He held his breath in dread as he waited anxiously for her response. He fervently hoped that the two men's dislike for each other didn't just put the kibosh on his exclusive party planning arrangement with Gus' mom.
Lindsey smiled back at him reassuringly, self-conscious over the outburst Brian had just displayed. Would the man NEVER grow up? Afraid her friend was going to bite his nose off to spite his face, she began, "Actually, Em…..there is one other item we needed to take care of." She glanced over at Brian pointedly, eyebrows raised expectantly as she waited for him to take over.
"What?" he snarled; he was still peeved over his struggle for dinosaur superiority earlier at the party goods store. What an impertinent (but adorable), smug (but adorable), and arrogant (but adorable) man!
"You wanted to ask Justin about the cake, remember?" The expression she received from Brian made it hard for her to keep a straight face – it was sort of a cross between pained and insulted.
Brian gave her a look like Donald Trump had finally gone to get a decent haircut. "Are you shitting me, Lindsey? Do you really think I'd want anything else to do with that insufferable twink NOW?"
"That insufferable twink, as you put it, is far and away the most talented cake designer in town," she pointed out, way too accurately for Brian's taste. "If you really want to knock everyone's socks off – or anything else," she added, getting a smirk from her friend, "You'll swallow your stubborn male pride and ask him to do it anyway. Or is Michael not that important to you?" She knew Brian could be obstinate, but she also knew that he always demanded the best in whatever he did – and he was not going to find a better, more creative or talented man in the entire state to design Michael's Captain Astro cake than Justin. And something told Lindsey that the man knew that, albeit grudgingly. Now she just had to wait to see how long it took Brian to come down off his high horse and ask him.
Ten….nine….eight….seven…six….five…. "Oh, all RIGHT!" he finally answered testily, as Lindsey smiled smugly. Turning to Emmett, he asked, "Will you go into the back and ask the Pillsbury Doughboy to come out here for a minute? I have another assignment for him – if he's UP to it," he smirked.
Emmett's eyes lit up; by the looks of this man, this could turn out to be a lucrative deal. And maybe, just maybe, he would get to indulge in being the party planner for whatever he had in mind. "Not a problem," he hurriedly assured him as he pivoted on his feet and rushed back to the rear of the store.
He found his partner hunched over his drafting desk, hard at work on his next cake design. One of the art patrons at Lindsey's gallery had requested a rectangular sheet cake designed to resemble Monet's Water lilies painting. At least Justin figured that one should be pretty simple, since he already had the basic design to start with – he would merely be copying the original piece of art.
He glanced up as he heard Emmett rushing back toward him. "Put that drawing pencil down, Baby," he exclaimed, bubbly with anticipation. "You've got another request up front. Come on!" he beseeched the other man. "I think this one's prepared to pay handsomely, too." Emmett decided it wouldn't be prudent to tell Justin it was Brian Kinney who wanted the cake or that the man was even still in the shop; he figured if he could at least get his friend to come back out to the showcase area, hopefully he could be talked into it – somehow. He knew Justin wasn't won over simply by waving big dollar signs in front of him, but he was hoping maybe Lindsey could help persuade him – the two seemed to have developed a friendly bond and Justin truly enjoyed being around the man's son. As Justin hesitated a little too long, though, Emmett got worried. "Come on, Baby!" he repeated urgently, reaching down and grabbing his friend's arm now.
"Okay, okay, Em," Justin answered, deciding to humor him; he was just relieved that Gus' dad must have left already; what a jerk – albeit a sexy jerk. "I'm coming." He smiled congenially at his friend's enthusiasm as he rose from his chair and tucked his charcoal pencil behind his ear. As he followed Em back out to the front, he mentally ticked off all the tasks he needed to finish in the next few days for work and school: design and decorate the Monet cake, finish his sketching assignments for PIFA, and fill in for one night shift at the deli. And now Emmett said he had another new order? Sighing, he thought, maybe it would just be better if he slit his wrists and got it over with as he obediently followed the other man back to the showroom.
Closely trailing behind Emmett, he followed the taller man as he brushed the separating curtains aside and emerged back out into the showroom area. He abruptly stopped, however, as he quickly noticed who the new customer was. "No way," he snapped as he glared at the other man and frowned at Emmett who had misled him, firmly intending to turn around and get back to his other design; he had had more than enough of this cocky man today.
Brian saw the other man's reaction and knew this was a bad idea from the start; but he also knew this man was apparently the best cake designer around. And his friend Mikey deserved the best. Besides, any man could be bought, one way or the other. He was surprised, then, to see the man actually turn around and boldly rebuff him as he turned to once again return to the back of the store.
Justin turned to go but fortunately stopped, however, when he heard the arrogant man call out, "I'll pay you double your normal fee."
"Humpff," Justin snorted, insulted by the man's audacity and greatly perturbed by the man's nerve. "You think you can just buy me for the right price?" You're probably used to getting what you want, aren't you, Mr. Kinney? Well, there's always an exception to that rule.
Emmett, standing beside him, gasped in stunned shock, muttering under his breath to his friend, who must have gone nuts, "Justin…...You can't afford to pass this up! Don't be crazy! You've got him on the hook – reel him in, Baby! Momma's got a lot of dancing clothes to buy and you've got tuition!" Justin smirked despite himself; he and Emmett had agreed going in to split all the proceeds 50-50 no matter who brought in the money on a given day, but their needs for the money were vastly different. Nevertheless, he was having difficulty accepting any amount of money from this pompous, arrogant, I-always-get-what-I-want sort of man.
"Justin……This would be a wonderful opportunity for you," Lindsey counseled him. "Brian's the owner of Babylon, the dance club down near Liberty Street. That's where the party's being held – it would certainly showcase your talents and no doubt bring in a lot of business for you and Emmett," she added temptingly. Lindsey was very fond of both men, and extremely impressed with Justin's artistic talent; she was hopeful that the young man would see this opportunity for what it was – a chance to let a large part of the gay community see his work and hopefully clamor for more. And if somehow the two men could meet halfway, look out, she thought…..she could feel the sparks even from her vantage point.
Emmett positively danced on his heel and did a little clap in astonishment. "Babylon! I love that club!" he gushed. Looking over at Brian, who simply stood there impatiently waiting for his answer, he told him, "I didn't know you owned that club! They simply have the best music and the best selection of drinks! I absolutely adore the Cosmos there!"
Justin rolled his eyes; his friend was laying it on just a little too thick for his taste. He still wasn't impressed; if he had to get extra business by catering to this man, he decided he'd rather just stay a pauper. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kinney," he said curtly, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. "I'm going to be too busy the next few days to take on any more additional assignments."
Now Brian was determined – every man has his price. "Oh, come on, Doughboy," he retorted, as he looked around the shop. There were several real-life samples of Justin's design work scattered throughout the store, but even with its neat, pleasant appearance, you wouldn't ever mistake the place for a palace. It was obvious the two men had cobbled together whatever equipment and furnishings they could scrounge up, probably at the local Goodwill Store. "Let's be real here. No matter how talented your little artistic fingers might be, you're never going to bring in the right clientele unless you publicize your talents to the right audience. I'm giving you the opportunity to do so. If you're not perceptive enough to realize that, then it's YOUR fucking loss, NOT mine."
"For your information, Mr. Kinney, Emmett and I have managed to do quite well for six months without your help, thank you very much. Now if you'll excuse me, I have REAL work to do." He said determinedly, as he once again prepared to return to his design work.
Brian was perplexed; he wasn't used to taking no for an answer, or getting a no, for that matter. And while he absolutely hated to admit it, Lindsey was right – by the looks of the dinosaur cake this man had made for his son, as well as the other design samples displayed in the small shop, this artist was the right man – maybe the only man – who could make a Captain Astro cake the way it should be made. And he wanted to make sure that Michael's party was a big, fat, fucking smash – he owed him that much.
Just as Justin was about to escape back to his design studio in the back, Brian swallowed his pride and offered something he hoped would be irresistible to both men. "I'll make up an advertising campaign for your store that will bring in more fucking business than you can possibly handle," he boasted confidently.
Justin turned around and smirked. "I thought you were a club boy," he taunted the other man, eyebrows raised in challenge.
Brian glared at him. "Club OWNER, Blondie. Get it right." As Justin simply shrugged at him in a whatever type of response, he informed him, "I also happen to be the owner of Kinnetik – perhaps you've heard of it?"
Emmett stared at his friend, perplexed; the name meant nothing to him. To Justin, however, he was very familiar with it. Through his graphic design classes at school, he had heard about the advertising company Kinney was bragging about. They had learned about his success during lectures where they were challenged to come up with competing advertising designs for products from some of the man's larger clients. He had learned Kinnetik was an extremely successful, multi-million dollar company. So while he found this man to be way too sure of himself, smug, and cocky, perhaps the man had reason to be.
Emmett peered over at him, pleading in his eyes. Justin sighed and shook his head. "I'm not promising anything, mind you," he stated firmly. "But what exactly do you need done?" Emmett clapped his hands, hopeful that things were actually going to work out.
Brian smirked. "I need a cake with a superheroes-type theme for a friend of mine who is getting ready to open up a comic and collectible shop on Liberty Avenue. He's a big fan, especially, of Captain Astro, so I would want that figure featured prominently on the cake. Maybe even include Mikey as a guest star." At Justin's puzzled look, he explained, "That's my friend who the party's for. Anyway, as Lindsey mentioned, the party's being held at my club, and I'm expecting at least 500 guests. Can you accommodate that many people?" He looked over at Justin, almost challenging him to meet his demands.
"Of course," Justin answered confidently. "I've made several cakes for parties at least that size and larger. That's not a problem," he assured him, nonplussed. "When do you need it?" he asked in a business-like tone. Something told him when it came to this man, it was best to keep things on a strictly professional level, because something told him that this man could be dangerous, in a sexy kind of way, he decided.
"I need it by Wednesday," he advised him calmly, as if it were the most simple request in the world.
"Wednesday!" Justin exploded in disbelief. "This is SUNDAY! How do you possibly expect me to have it designed and created in THREE DAYS? Are you fucking out of your mind?" Who did this man think he was – Houdini?
Brian shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Oh, I'm sorry, Blondie," he told the other man condescendingly, "I thought you knew the meaning of integrity and hard work. As in doing whatever it takes to get the job done. As in the customer's always right. I guess I was wrong, though, wasn't I?" He clucked in mock disappointment. Internally, though, he found that he was actually enjoying this banter of exchanges between him and this cute Pillsbury Doughboy. He noticed that when the other man was angry, his large, expressive eyes virtually flashed with a type of blue fire – it was rather attractive, in a peculiar sort of way.
Justin huffed indignantly, "This has NOTHING to do with having integrity or being a hard worker! How do you think I work here, go to school, and help out at a deli? By being a fucking goof-off? I can't change how many hours there are in a given day, or grow a couple of extra hands…..You're asking for the impossible!" he declared, shaking his head in astonishment.
"It's not impossible," Brian argued. "You just have to refocus your priorities, that's all….you just forgo all sleep and any fucking," he told him reasonably. He noticed to his amusement that the blond actually blushed a little at the last part of his statement, just like a little virgin schoolboy. He also noticed the startled sapphire eyes and slightly pink tinge to his face were almost irrestible, but he wasn't about to tell him that.
"I'm telling you….I know how long it takes to design and create a cake like you're requesting, and it's going to take more than 3 days," he reported. "Even if I could design one right away, I would need help with putting it together afterward. That is what takes so long." This man had no concept obviously of the man hours required to finish a cake of that magnitude, even though Justin had to admit the extra money could certainly come in handy right now. Between the books he had just had to purchase, and his tuition that was due soon, money was extremely tight. He just didn't know, though, how he could possibly take advantage of this potentially lucrative opportunity and still do the job right. Being a perfectionist when it came to his art, he knew he would be disappointed in himself if he didn't create a cake that lived up to his own expectations.
Lindsey's eyes gleamed with mischief. As she peered over at Emmett and winked at him, she asked, "Brian, since you're the one who needs the big favor, why don't you volunteer to help him? I'm sure he could show you what to do…..right, Em?" She stared at him intently, hoping somehow that he would understand what she was trying to do. Her instincts, and her knowledge of Brian, especially, told her that these two men were more alike than they knew, and she was dying to find out whether she was right. She only hoped Emmett would take the hint. After all, if they could talk Justin into designing the cake for Brian, Emmett would undoubtedly financially benefit, too.
Justin snorted. Yeah, he'd love to show him what to do…..and where to GO. He wasn't too worried, though, because he figured there was no way in hell the man would ever agree to work with him. And after the attitude he had displayed, he wasn't too disappointed by that, either…..although he had to admit – the man was damned attractive. Of course, he was sure Kinney knew THAT, too.
As he anticipated, Brian immediately began to protest vehemently. "You have GOT to be fucking kidding me, right?" he asked, eyes blazing. "Let him find some kid that likes to play with Playdoh and let HIM help him with it! I have more important things to do, like running my own business!"
Justin huffed in resentment. "What do you think I do?" he snorted. You think I just wave a magic wand at a glob of dough and, poof! a cake suddenly appears?, he asked, highly offended. "If you do, Mr. Kinney, you're seriously mistaken! You need to walk a mile in my shoes for a change."
"No, thanks," Brian curtly retorted. "My feet have never so much as touched a pair of K-Mart sneakers." As Justin rolled his eyes at him, Brian added, "Look,I don't fucking care HOW you get the cake done – even if you have to recruit Martha Stewart! If I'm going to pay double for your services, then I expect the cake to be done on time – that means any way it needs to be done!" He looked over at Emmett. "Isn't this flashy beanstalk the person who normally helps you anyway? After all, that's what a partnership is, isn't it?" he demanded.
Justin thought, as if YOU would have any inkling what a partnership WAS. He was about to issue an scathing remark of his own before Emmett jumped in. "I'm sorry, Baby," he told Justin apologetically, "Normally you know I would be glad to help. But I have to finish setting up for Gus' party tomorrow, and then it's on to the impressionist art gallery bash this weekend. I just don't have any extra time to spare, as much as we could use the extra business." Looking over at Lindsey, who silently nodded, (that a boy, Emmett!) he added, "It's not hard to help set the cake up……it seems to me if Mr. Kinney really wants the cake so badly by Wednesday, it's the least he could do." Em wasn't quite sure if she knew what she was getting Justin into, but she apparently thought for some outlandish reason, the two men should get to know each other better – that is, if they didn't kill each other first.
Brian huffed angrily, frustrated with the direction this whole conversation was taking. If he was honest with himself, he probably could help Taylor with his cake for Mikey's birthday after he left Kinnetik on Tuesday and after Gus' party tomorrow. But it unnerved him to no end that he would be relegated to such a lowly task, and with such an irascible, stubborn, little (albeit cute as a button) twat. It seemed, however, that unless he offered to pitch in, the cake would not get done for Mikey and he simply would not be satisfied with second best when it came to his best friend.
He shook his head slightly in resignation. Breathing out a short burst of feigned indifference, he said dryly, "I suppose I could come by here Tuesday evening and help you finish constructing the cake," he told the younger man with great difficulty. "But let me be clear – I do not do anything to do with flour, icing, or cutesy little flowers or bows. I am simply coming here to help you put the cake together. Got it?"
Justin eyes looked upward; God help me. Letting out a frustrated breath, he reluctantly agreed to let the man assist him with the final stages of the cake. Heaven forbid, though, if the man gets so much as a speck of frosting on his Armani suit. All hell would probably break loose in that case…Maybe a bib would be prudent……or better yet, DUCT TAPE.
"I'll try to contain my excitement over your offer," he responded sarcastically.
"What time?" Brian asked impatiently, ignoring the blond's derision; he walked toward the door with the much-sought-after toy dinosaur still in his hand. He had to go home now and figure out how to wrap the damn thing, as the blond had so gracioiusly pointed out.
Justin grimaced; this was going to be a rather interesting experience, no doubt – for both of them, he suspected. "About 7," he informed the other man.
"Come on, Lindsey," Brian demanded, as he grabbed her hand to leave. "Let's get the fucking cake out to the car and get going." Pointing to Emmett, he said, "You – the ballerina. Help me get this out," he ordered, pointing to Justin's dinosaur creation. Justin rolled his eyes in disgust as Emmett flushed a little red but nonetheless picked up his side of the cake display board and slowly helped Brian take the cake out to Lindsey's car as she held the storefront door open for them. Just before she left, she turned and gave Justin a soft "see you later" and a mysterious, cat-that-ate-the-canary smile before she, too, walked over to the car and, after seeing the cake safely tucked into the back, got into the passenger side.
As Brian walked around to the driver's seat, he told Emmett, "Tell Blondie I'll be here Tuesday at 7:00, and that I expect him to be ready for me," he demanded, as he quickly put Lindsey's car in gear and pulled out into traffic. Emmett distinctly thought he heard Lindsey urging him to slow down for the cake's sake before he shook his head in amusement and just a little trepidation. As he hurried back into the shop to finish up the rest of Gus' birthday preparations, he couldn't help thinking, I hope you know what you're doing, Lindsey – I'm not sure oil and water are going to mix. He suspected, however, that they were about to find out.