*** FIVE MONTHS LATER ***
Spicy! Yum!
John chuckled as he snapped a quick picture of the empty plate and the blue post-it, before carrying the tray back to the kitchen.
He washed up, singing along to an old Kinks song from a playlist.
Grabbing leftover grilled steak from the fridge, he sliced it across the grain and added it to the top of a salad of cucumbers, carrots, cilantro and cold noodles. The Thai dressing was on the side, ready to be added at the last minute. He took another picture, although this salad was an old favorite now.
Finishing off in the kitchen, John hummed as he headed back to the guesthouse to stash his half of the salad in the fridge. He changed quickly into his swim trunks, pulling the drawstring tight to keep them from slipping down.
Glancing at the clock, he left the guesthouse at 1:35 pm. Sherlock would have left for his 2 pm appointment by now.
With a whoop, John ran and jumped into the pool. It felt great, as always, and he pushed off from the side to propel himself fast through the water. He did a couple laps with each type of stroke, running through the whole circuit a few times before he felt tired.
Wrapped up tight in his towels, John relaxed on the lounger. It was so good that Sherlock had been going to yoga at an exclusive studio for months now. It meant he was away from the house a couple hours at set times, three days a week. John had swum every time, feeling free to enjoy the pool on his own.
Rolling his shoulder, John was pleased that the range was almost normal now, and even with all the laps, it didn't ache. He was tanned a light golden brown now, with all these frequent times out in the sun.
Pulling out his iPad, John went to his blog. There were three more followers today. It was always good to see his quirky postings were amusing to others.
With a little photo editing, the pictures from today were ready. He posted the before and after for lunch, making sure the post-it was clear to see. A concise review of his work.
Stretching, he went back to the guesthouse to shower and change. He was meeting up with some friends for a movie later.
XXX
Sherlock's phone pinged, and he set down his coffee to check the message.
John was reading the newspaper, crunching on a piece of toast with blackberry jam. But he still heard Sherlock grunt after reading, and glanced up. "Bad news?"
Even after all these breakfasts together, he was still affected when Sherlock's eyes met his. He always had to school his features to look calm and cool, not revealing that it felt like the wind was knocked out of him.
"We are getting a visitor for a few days. Hazel." Sherlock said, sounding unfazed by the change of his schedule.
They had never had a guest before. "Oh! Should I move out of the guesthouse so she can use it? Cook a hot dinner for you? Leave for a few days so you can have privacy?"
Sherlock chuckled. "You aren't someone I'm trying to hide, John. She knows you, she hired you. Stay in the guesthouse, it's your home. She'll Use a bedroom in here."
John felt relieved at that. "And meals?"
"We will probably be eating out more often, so don't worry about doing anything elaborate." Sherlock smiled, trying to calm John down, seeing he was flustered.
John was still a little worried. He had gotten used to cooking for just himself and Sherlock. Sherlock wasn't afraid to leave a note if he liked or didn't like something, and John tweaked recipes until they worked.
He decided to buy some extra groceries in case he had to whip up a few meals. Just to be on the safe side.
XXX
Hazel arrived late the next morning. Sherlock was dressed casually in tan shorts and an untucked red short-sleeved shirt, looking very Californian. John had searched around for a good outfit, but didn't really feel great in anything. With a sigh, he pulled on loose jeans, used a belt to keep them up, and put a navy polo shirt over everything. It was baggy enough to hide a multitude of sins.
"Come on in." Sherlock said with a smile, after giving her an affectionate hug. "It's great seeing you here."
Hazel looked pretty in a floral, aqua sundress and strappy sandals. "Sherlock, I always forget what a great house this is. Why don't you live here year round?"
Sherlock laughed. "Americans."
She rolled her eyes at that, giving his face a pat. "You are awful!"
Turning towards John, she swooped in and gave him a warm hug. "You look great! Clearly the sunshine and the job are agreeing with you, even if you have to be around this asshole a few hours every day."
John grinned. "Most days, it's less than an hour."
"That's wise," she nodded, her eyes glinting with humor. "Keep your exposure down to a minimum. He's toxic in large doses."
"Excuse me. I'm standing within earshot, you know." Sherlock grumbled.
Hazel gave him another patronizing pat on the cheek. "I know, sweetums. Now be a dear and fetch me a dirty martini."
"It's not even noon yet." Sherlock complained as he went to the bar trolley.
Hazel sat on the sofa and crossed her long legs. "It's after seven in London."
John smirked to himself as Sherlock put ice into the martini shaker, and measured out the alcohol. He rarely saw people talking to Sherlock as a peer, teasing him. Hazel was a lot more relaxed with Sherlock than the professional businesswoman demeanour she had presented in the interview with John, so many months ago.
"John dearest, could you make me a sandwich or something? The food on the plane was dreadful." Hazel accepted the martini from Sherlock and took a long sip.
Sherlock had another martini in his hand, looking a little uncomfortable as he sat down.
"I was about to make some shrimp creole for lunch. Are you OK with spicy food?" John asked.
Hazel nodded. "Oh yes, the hotter the better."
The house was open concept, so he could hear a little of their chatting as he cooked. Sherlock got up and made another round after about ten minutes.
John set up the south deck table for two as the creole simmered. He made it a little nicer than it normally was for Sherlock's lunch, adding some flowers as a centerpiece and using some colorful cloth napkins.
"Lunch is ready now. Why don't you get settled on the deck and I'll bring your plates out?" John stepped close to sofa to announce.
Hazel nodded and followed Sherlock out to the deck.
John served up the rice, and the creole over it, making sure each portion had a lot of shrimp. He carried both plates to the deck, placing them in front of Hazel and Sherlock.
"Aren't you going to join us?" Hazel asked before John could slip away.
She turned to Sherlock, putting a hand on his forearm. "Look, I know you normally eat most meals alone when you are working, but I'm here, screwing up your routines for a few days."
Sherlock nodded. "You are right. John, please join us."
Going back to the kitchen, John felt a little weird about all this. He had worked well with Sherlock for months, each knowing their own place, and this was mixing everything up. What if things didn't go back to normal when Hazel left?
Well, he couldn't get out of it now. He would be polite, but quiet. Eat the meal and excuse himself as soon as possible.
He sat down with his plate, and everyone started eating. John felt nervous, watching people eating his cooking.
"Mmmmm..." Hazel moaned, giving John an approving look as she chewed.
Sherlock smiled at her and then John. "He's come a long way, hasn't he? Remember that call I made to you about him after the first week?" He scooped up another forkful.
Hazel chuckled, glancing over at John to include him. "Sherlock can rant and rave at times. He thought you were an awful choice for the job back then. Luckily, you didn't hear any of that and you started making more than just beans on toast and fried egg sandwiches."
John gave a weak chuckle back. He hadn't realized he had been so close to being fired.
Sherlock looked over at John. "You will have to cook that maple salmon for Hazel before she goes. It's so good."
The world seemed to tilt a little at that comment, and John felt a little distant as Sherlock and Hazel chatted on, eating their meal.
Wow. Sherlock raving over John's cooking, in front of someone else?
After all these months, John had thought he was an adequate cook. That his meals were simple, but edible. Sherlock left his short messages, comments that he was on the right track, but had never complimented him directly.
"And you eat like this everyday? How are you not as big as a house?" Hazel was finishing off the last of her meal.
Sherlock shrugged. "The meals are quite healthy. Lots of veg and lean protein. And I workout."
Pulling out her tablet, Hazel seemed to be getting back into business mode. It was John's chance to escape. He stood up, gathering their plates.
"Don't go, John. I have something to discuss with both of you." Hazel waved for him to sit down again.
John's stomach tightened again with nerves. What could she need to talk about now?
"Sherlock, the chapters you have given us for this new book are some of your best. The publisher wants to start creating buzz around it now, ramping up to its release closer to Christmas." Hazel said, her eyes showing her excitement.
The tall man seemed surprised, but pleased. "I'm relieved. This book is such a different direction than my previous ones."
"Well, your timing couldn't be better. People are questioning gender and sexuality more than ever, and to mix the film noir style detective genre into that is a great way to challenge old stereotypes." Hazel said.
Sherlock was famous for his detective novels, his style much more about the facts and the case than the characters. He was praised by many for his scientific knowledge.
Hazel sipped her water. "So, the publisher wants you at the BookExpo. There was a cancellation and they want you to fill it."
"But that's not even two weeks away! This book isn't done yet. You know I never stop in the middle of writing." Sherlock shook his head, gesturing widely.
Placing a calming hand on his shoulder, the businesswoman gave him a direct look. "I know that. But you have to jump at this opportunity, Sherlock. This will start the buzz that could make this book a huge success."
John shifted, feeling uncomfortable still. Why had Hazel asked him to stay? This had nothing to do with him.
With a big sigh, Sherlock nodded. "OK, I'll do it."
"Great!" Hazel jumped up to hug him. "This is your chance to break free, to go beyond the book style you've had. I know you can do it."
He gave her a fond smile. "With you and the rest of the team's support, I can."
Hazel's smile dimmed, and she dropped back onto her chair. "There's a bit of a snag there, poppet." She reached over, taking his hand. "Josie really can't do the assistant role for you anymore. With her little girl's special needs, she isn't working as much. But I have an idea."
Sherlock groaned. "Oh God, you are going to stick me with some twenty-something perky girl, aren't you?"
"No, no..." Hazel sighed. "Quit being such a drama queen. I was thinking John could step up. I'm sure he would do fine."
"Me? What do you want me to do?" John asked, a bit confused. He hadn't been part of book industry discussions like this before.
She swiped a few times on her iPad. "The BookExpo is a huge event each year in New York, lasting a few days. Many prominent authors hold readings and signings, interact with the fans." She looked up, eyeing John critically. "He just needs an assistant with him at the event, kind of as a gopher and helper, keeping him on schedule if he gets delayed by fans. Just helping it all run smoothly."
"Don't you do that for him?" John asked.
Sherlock chuckled.
Hazel shook her head. "No, I'll be busy schmoozing with others in the industry, trying to promote his book and arrange for other appearances. Handling the business side and promotion."
"Well, I guess I can do it." John said, knowing he officially worked for Sherlock for another month anyways.
Hazel smiled widely. "Great! I'll send you the details in a day or so."
XXX
John read over Hazel's emails, feeling more and more overwhelmed as he went. Besides the session with fans, Sherlock was also meeting with many different book industry people, schmoozing at various parties. And John had to go to all of them as well. Assisting. Whatever that meant.
The scariest thing was the woman Hazel had scheduled to come to the house today. A stylist, to review clothes for the trip for both Sherlock and John.
Perhaps he was naive, but he hadn't given his clothes a thought. Now, seeing the schedule, there were many meetings over many days, and John had to help Sherlock present a professional image. Had to look like an 'assistant' of a best-selling author.
His biggest fear was letting Sherlock down. Looking bad, embarrassing him, or saying the wrong thing. He was out of his comfort zone, in a big way.
XXX
Wanda turned out to be nothing like he expected. He thought a 'stylist' would be a woman in a power suit and sky high Louboutin heels, sleek and decisive.
Instead, she was in skinny jeans with tears at the knees, high top sneakers, and angular black-dyed short hair. A confident woman in her late twenties with an edgy style.
After meeting with Sherlock, she came down to the kitchen, where John was nervously waiting.
"Come on, then. Let's go to your closet." Wanda grinned, a dimple on one cheek softening her tough girl look.
"See many skeletons in your work?" John joked as they walked across the lawn.
Wanda nodded. "Clothes say a lot about people, actually. They are a way to express ourselves."
The answer didn't help John's nerves.
His guesthouse was tidy, and he had only brought a couple large suitcases with him for his stay. Still, it took a lot to open his closet doors to a stranger, and let her root through it.
"Hmmm..." Wanda wrinkled her brow as she moved the clothes around and then looked back at John. "Is this all you have?"
John shrugged. "I was in army uniforms for most of my adulthood."
"It's not that you don't have much, it's just that everything in here is a couple sizes too big for you." Wanda said, her dark eyes giving him a curious look.
John made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "You've got to be joking."
Turning to him, she grabbed the fabric of his polo shirt and pulled it out to the side. "Where are you in all this fabric?" She lifted the shirt upwards before he could stop her, and chuckled at the belt cinched tight to hold up the loose pants. "John!"
He pushed her hands away, tugging his shirt back in place. "Look, I feel more comfortable in loose clothes, OK? I gained some weight in recent years. We can't all look effortlessly good like Sherlock does."
Shaking her head, Wanda gave him a kind look. "We are going to go out to get you a good haircut and some new clothes, billing it all to Sherlock since it's for his business trip. Trust me, OK?"
And something in her sincere gaze just clicked with him, and he nodded.
XXX
-Disclaimer: I own nothing.