A/N: Sorry about the delay in getting this posted - I just started a new job and it's really eating into my time, unfortunately. Not to worry - I WILL get this and the other story finished - it will take a little longer, though. Hope you will bear with me in the meantime. Thank you as always for those who are reading and especially reviewing!
9:45 a.m. – Expo Center Downtown
As he and Emmett walked through the doors of the exhibition center and were provided with official name badges, Justin felt like a kid in a candy store. Just knowing that their business was about to be exposed to thousands of potential clients was enough to make his heart beat rapidly and his face to feel warm and flushed with nervous anticipation. He tried not to even think about the cake competition later, even though he and Emmett were wheeling two large overstuffed plastic crates of supplies behind them to be used in their booth and his subsequent creation. If he dwelled on the thought of everyone staring at him down on the stage during his cake designing and then about the literally millions of television viewers watching at home, he knew he would literally get sick to his stomach.
He decided, then, to just concentrate on getting through the morning's exhibition. Hopefully by the time they were set up properly and he could devote his attention to some face-to-face encounters with the Expo's visitors, it would help take his mind off what was to come later.
"Do you believe this, Baby?" Emmett marveled, clapping in glee. "You and me – in the big time!" He looked around at all the hustle and bustle occurring nearby as Justin studied the map he had been given; from what Justin could tell, their booth was located about two aisles over, near the end.
"Yeah, I know," Justin agreed. "This IS kind of surreal, isn't it? Who would have thought a month ago that we would be here?" He shuddered a little at the thought – it was one thing to present a cake at someone's party and gauge their reaction; it was another thing altogether to be judged in front of internationally-known critics, a studio audience, and millions of other people.
Emmett reached over and briefly rubbed his hands up and down Justin's shoulders briskly in support. "You're going to do just great, Justin," he encouraged him. "Not to mention we'll undoubtedly be the most fashionably-dressed team there!"
Justin smiled as he glanced over at his friend's attire; in addition to the manicure, his friend had also placed smoky gray eyeliner around his eyes to emphasize them. "Well, I can't argue with that," Justin agreed, sweeping his eyes over his friend's outfit. "Although I kind of hate to hide all that that fashion under our apron and cap," he cracked, nudging his friend in the side.
Emmett shrugged. "Ah, the price of fame," he lamented slightly before he brightened. "I do hate for all this primping to go to waste. But no problem, Baby – I'll get my mug on camera as much as possible, along with some tush shots, don't you worry." Justin laughed softly as he watched his friend reach into his pocket and pull out a small, rectangular-sized mirror to take a quick glance at his face. "A celebrity must be dewy-fresh at all times, Baby," he chided his friend. "Can you point me to our fan booth?"
Justin smirked. "It's this way, Mr. Big Shot," he teased, pointing over to the second aisle over. "Wagons ho!" he cracked, as the two of them began to tug their wheeled carts toward their booth.
As the two men continued to cart their plastic crates over to their assigned space, their movements were being closely monitored by another man who was hidden by a large, artificial tree in the corner. Brian jumped visibly, though, as he heard a rather stern female voice nearby saying unexpectedly, "What are you doing?"
He whirled around to find Lindsey standing there with Gus, who was firmly holding his Dimetrodon in his left hand. "Daddy!" he chirped, raising his dinosaur-laden hand in greeting.
Despite coming close to suffering a heart attack in surprise, Brian had to smile at his son's cheery greeting. "Hey there, Sonny Boy!" he greeted his son casually, even though he had been caught obviously peering around a fake tree. "What brings YOU here?" He reached down and scooped his son up into his arms to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.
"We're here to see Jus'n," he told his father happily. "Have you seen him, Daddy? He's going to be on TV," the little boy reported helpfully, beginning to crane his neck from side to side as he tried to take advantage of his relatively high vantage point to spot his friend.
Brian frowned as he looked over at Lindsey; he hadn't told her about that. "How did you find out?" he asked his friend curiously. He wasn't sure he was happy with this turn of events; despite being delighted to see his son, he had a feeling this latest development could very well put a crimp in his plans with a certain blond later.
"You mean about Justin being in the cake competition?" she asked. She reached into her purse and pulled out a rolled up piece of newspaper. "It was in the paper yesterday afternoon," she explained, handing him the copy she had been carrying.
Brian unrolled the piece of paper and scanned it – it was a part of the Leisure section from the Pittsburgh Herald and contained a rather large headline announcing that a local cake designer was going to be participating in the Wedding Cake Wars being broadcast from the Expo. It listed Justin's name, along with the other ten competitors, in addition to a rather detailed description of his and Emmett's business, including the address, phone number and website address. Brian smirked. "You can't buy this type of publicity," he stated firmly. "This type of advertising would cost a fucking fortune."
"Well, if anyone would know, it would be you," Lindsey told him. "I'm happy for him and Em – it is well-deserved. I'm so excited for them!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "I've never seen a cake designing competition in person, but I've seen them lots of times of TV. I think they're fascinating! I hope Justin wins!"
Brian snorted. "Yeah – it figures you artistic types would find that sort of high-carb drivel mesmerizing."
"Yeah…..Jus'n!" Gus joined in as he clapped. "Let's go see 'im, Daddy!" he cried, tugging on his father's shirt collar. "Don't you want to say hi to him?" he asked, his brown eyes wide with typical childlike innocence. "I want to see him….maybe he'll give me some more cake!"
Brian sighed; he always found it so hard to refuse his little boy, but his son had no idea what type of complications might ensue if a certain man knew he was here at the moment and keeping tabs on him. He had intended to remain in the background to observe how Justin was doing; he had already become involved earlier anyway, in a couple of ways. He would prefer that Justin not know about any of this at the moment. "I'm sorry, Sonny Boy," he said gently. "Daddy's here on business – I won't have time to go see Justin today," he told him apologetically as he softly lowered his son to the ground.
Lindsey reached over to take her son's hand. "What type of business, Daddy?" she asked her friend innocently, twisting her lips in amusement; something told her Brian was here for the same reason that she and Gus were – to see a certain blond cake designer, even though he was denying it. She knew that despite his ridiculous statement to the contrary at the diner, her friend had more than just a one-time, prurient interest in the young artist. The tender, caring looks her friend had been giving Justin was more telling than any arrogant, unfeeling statement he might have verbally expressed in a weak attempt to push them off the right track.
"Advertising business with the expo promoter," he told her curtly, raising his eyebrow in challenge to his statement. It seemed perfectly reasonable to him, anyway, even if he had an idea that Lindsey wasn't buying it for a second. "He's an old fraternity brother; in fact, you probably remember him - Bennett Rodgers?"
Lindsey shook her head disgustedly as she rolled her eyes. "Bennett Rodgers…now that's a name I haven't heard in quite a while. Is he still the same S.O.B. he always used to be?" The man had always latched himself onto anyone who he thought he could take advantage of, and never cared about whether he hurt anyone else in the process or not; she had intensely disliked the man in college from the moment she had first met him, and something told her she would feel the same way about him NOW.
Brian smirked as his son gazed up at him to ask, "Daddy, what's an S.O.B.?"
"It's a man who thinks he's more talented than he really is, Sonny Boy," he replied dryly. "And to answer your mommy's question, yes – even more so. Just because he IS, though, doesn't mean I can't do business with him. In fact, he's one of my biggest advertising clients here in Pittsburgh. That kind of business tends to make me overlook personality faults."
"Uh, huh," Lindsey answered, not amused. And as far as the excuse Brian was giving her about being here, frankly, she didn't believe it for a minute. She knew exactly why Brian was here and chances are it didn't have a damn thing to do with their old college chum. But if Brian wanted to play it that way to save face, so be it.
Brian knew that look – it was one that said, I'm on to you, Kinney. He had to nip that thought in the bud right now. "Uh, Lindsey…..don't go telling Justin that I'm here, okay? I wouldn't want to get his hopes up or something. I'm just here on business."
"Right," she answered, obviously unconvinced by his attempt to sound nonchalant and indifferent about the whole matter. "Well, then, I'll let you know how the competition turns out," she answered, taking their son's hand. You're not fooling me for a second, Buster. "You ready to go visit Justin's booth?"
"Yeah!" Gus quickly answered, as he began to tug excitedly on his mother's hand. "We'll give him a kiss for you, Daddy," he helpfully offered as the two of them began to walk away toward the display booths.
"Yeah," Brian answered softly, out of earshot. "You do that, Sonny Boy." I'll be sure to give him a kiss for you TOO…a really GOOD one…later. He picked up his map once again and, studying the legend of vendors' names, slowly meandered toward the perimeter of the main aisles; better to take the long way around for THIS journey.
One Hour Later
"How's this, Justin?" Nathan asked, his hands on his hips as he stood next to the blond, who was studying the display about 10 feet away. There were three tables set up at their booth, with the table at the rear displaying small versions of some of Justin's best wedding cake designs, along with a large, thick photo album of several additional designs. Each design had a code number that a potential client could include on name, address, and phone number slips supplied to them for further information. A large, clear Plexiglas box with a slot in the top would hold the completed forms; Justin had decided that one lucky form would be supplied with a free wedding cake as a grand prize. He figured that the publicity and good will generated from the prize would more than compensate for the cost and time that would be involved in preparing it.
The other two tables displayed some of Emmett's appetizer ideas and party planning information. All in all, the design was very organized, creative and professional looking, just what Justin had been hoping to achieve. "I think it looks great," he said, smiling at Nathan. "I really appreciate your help getting it set up. Once Emmett saw that old friend of his, he was off like a shot to talk to him." About 30 minutes ago, just before Lindsey had stopped by with Gus to wish him luck, Emmett had unexpectedly spotted an old roommate of his that he hadn't seen in a few years, and had begged off working temporarily to go track him down. Fortunately, their high school assistant, Nathan, had arrived at just about the same time to help Justin finish setting up. "Now all we have to do is get enough people interested in stopping by and hopefully visiting our shop to order something."
"Well, my sister came here last year just before she got married, and she said the place was absolutely packed with people," Nathan told him. "I think you'll be more than busy."
Justin glanced over at the redheaded student. "I hope you're right," he told him. It was still relatively early for the show's start, and so far there wasn't a vast amount of people attending yet. "If there is, I think this will be a good opportunity for us."
Nathan smiled. "Well, that and you being in the cake competition. I think that's fantastic! I hope you win, Justin."
Justin grinned appreciatively. "Thanks, Nathan. I'm not getting my hopes up too much – I imagine these other competitors have been in the business a lot longer than I have. It would be great to win – don't get me wrong – but either way I think it'll be an interesting experience. Just to be included out of all those applicants is a great honor." He frowned. "Actually, I really don't know how I wound up being a contestant – I never applied directly. The only thing I can think of is that someone liked my work and sent in some examples for them to see." A flash of purple caught his eye as he saw Emmett rushing over to their booth. "Well, there's our missing man now." He noticed his friend animatedly pulling an uknown man toward them.
Nathan followed his line of sight to observe Emmett returning with a stranger. "Well, if it's all right with you, I'm going to take a short break and get me something to drink, okay?"
"Sure thing…I'll man the ship while you're gone," Justin replied, smiling, as the high school boy left to find a refreshment stand. Besides, from the look of excitement on Emmett's face, it was obvous his friend was dying to introduce him to his former roommate.
"Justin! I want you to meet Collin. Wait until you hear what he has to tell you!" Emmett came rushing up, looking like someone who had run a quarter mile; he was sweating and breathless as he pulled his old friend alongside him. "Collin, this is my business partner, and friend, Justin Taylor – he's the one competing in the cake design contest. Justin, this is my old roommate, Collin Montgomery."
Justin briefly sized up the rather tall, dark-blond haired man standing in front of him; he appeared to have the same bemused on his face that HE did at Emmett's excited demeanor. "It's nice to meet you, Collin," he said, smiling and extending his hand.
As the other man clasped his hand in return, Emmett advised Justin, "You're not going to believe this! Collin works as a production assistant to one of the producers of the Culinary Channel," he explained.
Justin nodded politely, thinking it was truly a small world; Emmett's friend no doubt had an interesting job, but he wouldn't exactly consider that extremely exciting or earth shattering. "It must be interesting, living in New York City," he offered. "I always thought that I'd like to live there to pursue my art."
Emmett looked at him, confused, before he had a sudden epiphany, realizing why Justin wasn't so astounded by his news; he hadn't told his friend the good part yet. "No, Baby, that's not what I mean," he said, correctly deducing that Justin didn't understand he hadn't told him the most exciting part yet. "It's not his JOB that's so exciting – sorry, Collin," he told his friend, who nodded congenially. "It's what he told me about one of the judges in the cake competition. Collin told me one of the four judges has been disqualified."
Justin's eyebrows rose at that piece of news. "Disqualified? Whatever for?" How does a cake designer judge get himself disqualified? "Did the person's soufflé collapse or something?" he kidded his friend. Before Emmett could answer, however, his former roommate volunteered the reason. "I wish it were that minor," Collin told him. "HE got disqualified for fucking someone in the bathroom this morning."
Justin stifled a laugh. "You're kidding me, right?"
Justin's look of amusement was contagious as Emmett's former roommate smiled back at him as he shook his head. "No….that's the rumor, anyway. Seems someone else was in the men's room at the same time, unbeknownst to the judge, and overheard enough of it to know the judge was being prompted to vote for one of the contestants in return for services rendered." He snickered. "That's a first for this show; normally it's a case of someone being offered money under the table, not his dick."
"Shit!" Justin exclaimed as he placed his hand over his mouth in surprise. "Do they know which contestant?" As if he wasn't nervous enough at the moment, this particular part of the contest was definitely making things more interesting.
Collin shook his head. "No, apparently the person in the men's room got there after the "festivities" started, so to speak," he reported. "All he could hear – in between all the moaning, that is –was the judge being "encouraged" to vote for someone. The judge apparently is being tight-lipped about the whole thing – pardon the pun," Collin added, receiving a snicker from his two avid listeners. "I don't think he feels this would add to his credibility, obviously, so apparently he quietly slinked off back to his home base of Chicago with his proverbial tail between his legs. So the only alternative the producers had was to disqualify him altogether. Fortunately they had a backup judge in the wings in case one of the others got sick or had their flight delayed. The guy just arrived here about 30 minutes ago, so they'll still have four judges, thank goodness."
Justin shook his head in disbelief; could this whole event get any weirder? "Unbelievable," he murmured.
"Yeah…..I'm sure they never imagined THIS type of scenario, Collin told them softly. "I don't think it would reflect real well on the Culinary Channel if word got out about this, by the way, so I hope you'll keep this under your hat – or chef's beret, in either case," he said, laughing softly. "Em showed me the outfit you're going to wear," he told Justin. "Very chic," he teased them.
Justin shook his in amusement. "Well, it has to be one of the male competitors, obviously," he observed. "How many men are competing?"
"Believe or not, out of the eleven competitors, seven of them are male," Collin told the two business partners. "Typically most people think of women being the chief operators of cake designing businesses, but normally they're not. It seems the most artistic people who design cakes tend to be men for some reason. In this case, the judge swears the person he was – uh, interacting with – was acting alone and that the contestant didn't have any knowledge of it. In any case, the only fair action was to disqualify him completely so he didn't somehow sway the other judges." Collin glanced over at Justin; the man seemed awfully young to be competing in such a prestigious contest. "You ever competed in one of these before?" he asked pointedly.
Justin flushed under the intense scrutiny before he answered somewhat hesitantly, "Uh…..no, actually, this is my first time. In fact, I was kind of shocked when I got picked – I have no idea how they got my name – it must have been somebody who bought a cake from me and thought it was pretty good."
"Pretty good?" Emmett exclaimed, giving his partner a small slap on his hand. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Baby. You'll be the most adorable, as well as creative,designer there - hands down," he told his friend effusively.
Justin blushed at his friend's exuberant confidence in him; he only wished he was as confident as Emmett was. "Thanks, Em," he said a little bashfully. "But I'm sure they'll be others just as good."
Collins smirked at his friend's confidence in the young artist. "Well, the only reason why I asked is because you should know – this can be a pretty cutthroat business. Just watch your back – figuratively as well as literally." Justin glanced at him, unsure whether the man was kidding or not – he certainly looked serious enough. "Well, I'd better get back before my boss comes looking for me – remember, the two of you need to be over at the Grand Auditorium in time for the competition to start at noon. I'd recommend about a half-hour earlier, just to get oriented to the place and get all your supplies over there. Good luck, guys!" he called out, as he hurried to return to the sponsor's special booth at the front of the large room.
Justin watched Emmett's friend depart with mixed feelings. He was happy that Emmett could become reacquainted with his friend, but the man's caution about the other contestants, as well as the judge who had been disqualified, made him a little disconcerted. Whoever this man was who was trying to bribe the judge must have been desperate to see his contestant win. He couldn't imagine being that unsure of yourself that you would permit a friend of yours to fuck the judge! Well, I guess ten thousand dollars might have that effect on you. "Em, do you think he was kidding about this being a cutthroat business? I mean, it's just cakes, for fuck's sake! Surely he was just joking around."
He wasn't very comforted by his friend's reaction; for a change, Emmett actually looked sober. "I don't know, Baby. I've seen how some of Pittsburgh's caterers can be when I run into them at events. If the cake designers are anything like event planners, God help us. But don't worry, Baby, I've got your back," he vowed, smiling. "Besides, one flash of that smile and you'll blind them anyway," he joked, giving Justin an affectionate little bump to the side.
Justin huffed out an amused smile, despite his trepidation. Glancing over at a large clock displayed over one of the entrance archways, he noted with some urgency that it was 11:20. "I hope Nate's on his way back," he told his friend. "We've got to get going. By the way, I moved all of the cake decorating supplies into one crate to make transporting them easier." He was starting to get concerned that they would be running late if their assistant didn't get back soon. "Would you mind if I went ahead and took my supplies over to the auditorium? You can join me as soon as Nate gets back."
Emmett nodded, smiling. "Sure, Sweetie – it's more important that you get set up first." From his taller vantage point, Em could spy Nate returning with a drink and a hot dog. "I can see him, actually; he's on his way back. You go ahead and I'll be over soon."
Justin nodded as he walked over to grab the handle of the now fully-loaded crate; pulling it slowly as he threaded it through the rapidly-increasing mob of visitors, he was finding to his frustration that it was taking considerably longer to get across the hall to the exit door leading to the competition arena than he had anticipated. Just as he was about to effectively achieve his escape, he tripped on an electrical cord taped across the floor. "Shit!" he cried out; as he began to fall, he felt a pair of strong, warm arms latch themselves firmly onto his waist and haul him up against an oh-so-instantly-familiar body. As Justin slowly raised his eyes to gaze at his rescuer, he came face-to-face with the man who had been uppermost on his mind for the past week: Brian Kinney, complete with hazel eyes that were practically boring into his and that ever-present, confident smirk that Justin found both exasperating and alluring.
"Brian!" he exclaimed, half in surprise and half in irritation. "What the hell are YOU doing here?" He tried to push away from the almost vise-like grip the man held him in, but he found he was unsuccessful; the other man was definitely not letting him go just yet.
"Why, hello, Doughboy – what's cooking?" he drawled sexily, snickering at the other man's discomfiture. As he stared down into the sapphire eyes of his captive struggling half-heartedly in his arms for freedom, at least that was how it appeared to HIM, he both cursed and blessed his good fortune. Cursed because he had promised himself that he would remain safely hidden away from this man's curious, penetrating scrutiny, but also blessed because his feisty prey was struggling deliciously in his arms; Brian was chagrined to find that just holding this man in his arms was getting him hard and horny as hell. He was going to do his best, however, NOT to let the man know it, although his rapidly hardening cock was doing its best to betray him.
Justin continued to struggle in an attempt to be released from his exquisite tormentor; damn this man. He was at once both the most exasperating and attractive man Justin had ever met. Even after the hurt and pain Brian had caused him, the sexy ad exec could still cause his heartbeat to race and his face to heat up in embarrassment. Have you no PRIDE, Taylor? he berated himself internally. What happened to your fucking dignity? It went right down the crapper, THAT'S where, he answered himself testily. "Let me go, Brian," he whispered urgently; even to his own ears, his voice came off as pleading rather than stern. He didn't add the word please, but he might as WELL have; both of them could hear him broadcasting it, loud and clear.
Brian's response was to simply wind his arms around the other man even tighter; right now, despite the rapidly-expanding crowd surrounding them, he was oblivious to every other person in the room except for this adorable, blond spitfire currently living up to his name as he continued to try and extricate himself from his predicament.
"Brian, I said let me GO!" Justin repeated, a little more loudly and adamantly this time. "I have to get over to the auditorium," he explained to his captor, his hands now frantically trying to pry himself out of Brian's muscular, strong arms – arms that could both keep him held imprisoned but also fuck him senseless and take him to the heights of glorious pleasure with their sensual, lightly probing touch. Damn it, Taylor! Get a grip on where you are.
"Why?" he heard Brian ask innocently. "Are you performing on stage, Doughboy?" he quipped, his eyebrows raising in feigned interest. Brian, of course, knew exactly where he had been heading; he had hoped to remain anonymously in the background while Justin performed his artistic magic, but when he saw his little Doughboy about to practically break his neck on the way there, he couldn't help himself. Of course, having the added pleasure of having the man in his arms again was an added bonus. Besides, he really did have a plausible reason for being at the Expo Center – it just wasn't the ENTIRE reason.
Justin continued to try and gain release from his sensory prison, but he was unsuccessful; it was like trying to pry himself away from super glue. "If you must know, Mr. Kinney, I AM competing – in the cake decorating contest. "What are YOU doing here?" he asked pointedly. Brian would have been the last person he would have expected to attend a wedding expo of all things.
"I'm here on business," he growled, staring down at the blond's flushed face so close to his own, his eyes darkened with lust as he noted the fiery blue eyes and lips set in a determined pout; simply adorable. It was all he could do not to crush the other man's face to his and wipe that pout right off his kissable lips.
Justin's eyes widened at the obvious look of desire pouring from the other man; he was NOT going to fall into this man's trap again; there was too much riding on his reason for being there, and Emmett, among others, was counting on him.
"Brian," he hissed softly, staring back at the smoldering hazel eyes that were staring unblinkingly at him. "Will you PLEASE LET….ME….GO!" He noticed to his embarrassment now that their personal little confrontation was now soliciting some unwelcome attention from the nearby crowd of visitors. Just great, he thought. What a terrific way to gain publicity for myself. I can just see the headline now: Twinkie cake decorator gets the cream filling squeezed out of him by crazed, sexy beast.
"Justin!" he heard a somewhat frantic squeal coming from nearby. Thank God…..my rescuer. "WHAT are you doing?" Emmett cried, placing his hands on his hips in consternation. "Did you not tell me we had to be over at the auditorium right away? We don't have time for these indiscretions!" He glared at Brian, his eyes flashing in irritation; hadn't the man done enough damage already? "Do you MIND?" he snapped, reaching over to pull his friend out of the other man's clutches. "We've got WORK to do!"
Indiscretions? Who does this drama queen think he IS – some poor, hapless, lovesick sap that has to practically KIDNAP somebody to get some? It wasn't HIS fault that the Doughboy couldn't walk on his own two feet – SOMEBODY has to look out for him. Well, he had done his good deed – or rather, good DEEDS already; the rest was up to Justin.
Smirking back haughtily at Justin's affronted friend, Brian abruptly released his prisoner as he raised his arms up as if to say – look, Maw, no hands; he freed Justin so unexpectedly that it was all the blond artist could do to keep himself upright as he stumbled out of the other man's arms. If it hadn't been for Emmett reaching over to grab his arm, he would have fallen flat on his face after all.
Tugging his shirt down to straighten it and restore just a little bit of his lost dignity along with it, Justin huffed out an indignant breath at Brian as he turned to face Emmett. "Let's go, Em," he said to his friend, holding his head up high in an attempt to fake indifference over what Brian was doing to his mind and his body. Before the man could affect him any further, he made a concerted effort to spin around and grab his nearby, temporarily-abandoned crate. "We've got a lot of work to do," he told his partner. "If you'll excuse us, Mr. Kinney," he icily stated, not bothering to wait for a reply. He had to get out of there NOW before he did something he might regret, like kiss the other man sensless.
Brian watched as the man who had occupied his every nocturnal wet dream for the past week, and several of his daydreams as well, tread his way toward the auditorium for the cake competition with the Nelly Queen Mother of Pittsburgh. Saved just in time, Doughboy, he thought. The question was – WHO was saved – Justin…or HIM?
Waiting a respectable amount of time to pass, he slowly began to amble toward the contest arena, eager to see how his favorite cake designer fared in front of a studio audience and the nationally-televised cameras. With Justin's enormous creative talent, as well as Brian's added little insurance policy, Brian was confident that his own little personal advertising campaign was about to pay off handsomely, for both him AND Justin.