Spying in Chocolate
By SarahsSupplyCloset
Author's Note: It took me a while to figure out what I want this to be and where I want it to go. I'm still going to be writing The Trapped Assassin and The Model Agent too. I don't know why I think I can write 3 stories at once when I can't even read 3 books at once, but I'm trying. Thank you for your patience.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck and I'm not making money.
She spent a minute looking around the place, wondering where in the hell someone was supposed to go to get their phone fixed. Sue said something about Dweeb Dudes or Geek Guys or something, right?
Who did she ask about that, she wondered?
"Holy shit!" she thought she heard off to the side. Frowning in curiosity, she turned to look over her shoulder in the direction from which she thought she'd heard the utterance, but she saw nothing.
Frowning deeper, she stepped further into the store, looking towards the front desk. There was a purchase line, a pick-up line, and a returns line. None of those seemed like viable options, and there were at least 5 people in each line.
She veered back into the main, center aisle and rolled her eyes at herself, spotting the desk right smack dab in the middle of the store that said NERD HERD over it. Of course. Right in front of her face.
"Who is she?"
When she turned around again, whoever had spoken was gone. She almost felt like a human who wandered in some strange fantasy puppet world and was being stared at and followed by the puppet natives. Maybe she'd just seen Labyrinth too many times when she was growing up.
She fastened her eyes on the young man who stood behind the desk, writing something on a notepad as he held a phone between his shoulder and ear.
And as she approached, the young man in question began scatting or something in a high-pitched voice. "Vicki Vaaale vuh-vick-vuh Vicki Vaaaale. VICKITY VICKITY—"
His eyes flicked up to meet hers and it was like a switch went off inside of him. He stood up straight, the phone falling from its perch and crashing loudly against the desk. Jumping, he fumbled for the phone and hung it up.
"I…hope I'm not interrupting…" she couldn't help but say, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. It was the most amazingly cartoon-like way she'd ever seen anyone react to her.
"No!" he burst out. "Not…at all." He cleared his throat, deer in the headlights look still fastened on his face. His dark brown curls were all over the place, and coupled with the look he was giving her, he looked very young. Very tall and very young. "That's—It's from Batman," he tried to explain.
She didn't know why her first inclination was to tease him, but it came naturally as she leaned her hip against the counter, her amusement showing in her face. "'Cause that makes it better…?"
Batman?
Right off the bat, this guy was going with a superhero?
All he had to offer her was a weak, breathy, "Hahhh…", the edge of his mouth turning up in a lopsided smile.
The shorter, bearded man in the green shirt took a half step to the right, stepping into her view. "H-Hi. I'm Morgan," he announced. "This is, uh, this is Chuck." He reached back and poked his coworker in the arm, not taking his eyes off of her for a moment.
She raised her eyebrows and grinned. "I didn't think people still named their kids Chuck. Or…Morgan, for that matter." She switched her gaze between them. She didn't feel particularly offended by the way the bearded Buy More employee was gaping, but his friend had seemed to pull himself together, and apparently had a bit more self-awareness.
"My parents are sadists and carnival freaks found him in a dumpster," the taller of the two said, with a dry matter-of-factness that made her smirk.
"But they raised me as one of their own…" The shorter of the two's voice tapered off as he probably realized the joke had lost its lustre.
And apparently the taller one decided it was well-past time to actually do his job, so he cleared his throat and got to business. "Uh, so how can I help…you…"
"Sarah," she provided when he furrowed his brow in question.
"Sarah," he said emphatically, thrusting out a placating hand, before folding both of his hands together and pulling them back in towards himself.
"I'm here about this." She lifted her phone and wiggled it up by her face. His eyes dropped to the cell and he pointed at it.
"Having trouble with your cell?"
"Unfortunately. See, I have important calls for business that are supposed to be coming in and the phone keeps dropping them. I answer and I can barely hear them, it gets…I don't know, staticky I guess. And just like that, they're gone. It's been happening the last few weeks and it's going to start costing me. I can't keep using this as an excuse with people."
The taller man, Chuck, raised his eyebrows. "No, that's-that's definitely a problem. May, um, may I see your phone?"
Smiling, she eagerly handed it over and he took it with a polite nod, before he turned it over in his hands. "Mind if I test it out?" He was already opening a drawer at his hip, rummaging through it, and he tugged a junky looking phone out, turning it on. "I'll use one of our testers."
"Sure, whatever you need to do to diagnose the freaking thing." But then he handed her the junky phone and she frowned in confusion.
"Oh. Sorry, um…Go ahead and call your cell from that, if you don't mind. I don't…erm…I mean, not that…Never mind, if you could just…do the calling thing." He cleared his throat, scratching behind his ear, seeming just a tad flustered as she braced one palm on the desk and leaned in closer, dialing her cell phone.
It rang in his hand and he immediately answered. "Hello? Okay, now just talk to me for a bit and see if it drops it." His voice sounded weird both coming from the phone and from him standing in person in front of her.
"Um, okay. Uh…" What did she say? "This is really the only phone I've ever had that's given me this kind of trouble."
"Oh, yeah? You know the Intellicell typically has some issues right when it comes from the distributor, but it isn't anything that we can't fix…"
The phone cut him off then, a click, and a fuzzy sound in her ear. He blinked and looked down at the phone, consternation in his face. "Welp. I see what you mean about it just dropping a call for no reason."
"See?"
"But it's okay, though! Easy fix. I think I already know what it is. This model has a little screw that pops loose in the back here. It's probably that."
"A…loose screw?" She tilted her head, watching him as he went into his back pocket and pulled a small screwdriver out.
Sarah set down the tester phone he'd had her call her cell with and studied his hands as he turned off her phone and flipped it over. His fingers were long, and frankly, so were his arms. Made sense, considering he had to be a few inches over 6 feet, maybe 4 inches or so. And she followed his arms up to his shoulders, and eventually to his face as he unscrewed the back of the phone and skillfully popped it off.
His tongue poked out between his lips as he worked, and then he stuck the plastic panel from her phone between his lips so that he could work with both hands. "Nnn hnn… i' or' o' mfff drrr…" He seemed to put together the fact that he was trying to talk to her with part of her cell in his mouth and he rolled his eyes at himself, going back to work. She leaned over the counter even closer to watch. His furrowed brow was kind of…cute, wasn't it? And the way his nose went up just a bit at the end. His jaw was nice and defined, and she was doing her best not to try to stare too much.
Strange how his attractiveness sort of snuck up on her like that.
Within three minutes he was putting the back panel onto her phone again, having used the screwdriver twice. "So what I was trying to say is that it sort of gets loose, which gives the innards of the phone room to sort of wiggle around. And if those get jiggled out of place, that's when things like dropped calls happen."
When he was finished, he slipped the screwdriver back into his pocket. "Ta da. Good as new, no problem." He handed her back her phone then, nothing about his features or his tone that made her think he was at all smug. Like he did this sort of thing every day, saving people's asses.
He grabbed the tester phone then. "Here, lemme have your number and I'll—"
There was a strangled intake of breath off to the side and the Nerd Herd employee halted, going bright red as he sent his coworker a not-so-subtle death glare.
Sarah quietly reached across the desk, pretty sure he hadn't meant it in the way the bearded man was insinuating, like he was fishing for her number. His initial reaction to her showing up at his desk for help belied any indication that he had the intention of hitting on her.
She'd make this easier on him, typing in her phone number and hitting send, before she set it back down on the desk and slowly slid it back over to him with one finger.
And then she answered her own phone. "Hello, this is Sarah…"
He just gaped at her for a second and then he furrowed his brow, and shook himself, scrambling to grab the phone and lifting it up to his ear.
Just like that, he leaned his hip against the desk and seemed completely at ease as he said oh so smoothly, "Hello, Sarah. This is Chuck. I'm calling from the Buy More Nerd Herd in Burbank. I'm just calling to see if you're satisfied with the service you received when you took your phone in for I.T. help at…" He glanced at his watch. "2 minutes ago."
She bit her lip to keep from giggling, instead just grinning at him, incredibly amused and admittedly caught off guard. "Oh. Right. I remember you." She paused dramatically. "I think."
He seemed not to be able to help chuckling. "Were you satisfied with the service, miss?"
She raised an eyebrow at "miss" but he didn't seem to notice. "Depends. What's the grading scale? A through F? Or is it a number scale, 1 through 5, 1 through 10?"
"Ooooh! Good questionnnn." He made a silly face at her and she smiled harder, tilting her head. "Let's go with 1 through 5. With 5 being the highest quality of service. I should warn you, before you give your honest assessment of the job I did, uh, now 3 minutes ago, that if you give me a 1, there's a real chance my superior here at the Buy More demotes me…"
The bearded man spoke up then, his tone business-like. "Is she gonna give you a 1, dude? Dude, tell her that you're the supervisor. Tell her that if you get demoted by Big Mike, it'll automatically promote Jeff or Lester and they're both serious HR liabilities," he hissed, making Sarah laugh. It came out as a bubbly giggle.
"Oh boy. I'm sorry, miss. Did you hear that? I'm sure my coworker didn't mean for you to hear that." The bearded man covered his mouth with a hand as his taller coworker continued. "But before you give me my grade, I'd also like to point out that we've been on the phone now for…" He checked his watch yet again. "Nearly 3 whole minutes and the phone hasn't dropped the call yet."
"Wow." She widened her smile at him and raised her eyebrows, impressed. "You geeks are good."
"Nerds," he corrected.
"Technically, it's nerds," Morgan chimed in, pointing up at the sign above the desk.
"Ya know, Nerd Herd," the tall I.T. tech added, as if they were some sort of old school comedy duo or something.
But he cleared his throat then. "I hate to ask again, miss, erm, for my grade. It's just that we're required to write that down in our review after we do a job…"
"Oh! Wait, really?" She frowned, tilting her head.
"No." He smirked, looking a bit contrite. "Not really." She laughed at that. "You don't actually have to." He hung up the phone then and lowered it back to the counter. She did the same, sticking her phone in her purse though. "I, um…"
But then they were interrupted as a man staggered up to the desk counter beside her, forcing her to take a step to the side.
"I have an emergency," the man rushed out in a panic. Only then did Sarah notice the shy, miserable looking little girl beside him in full ballet regalia as if she'd just come from performing. He hurried on before anyone could respond, even as the shorter guy with the green shirt looked a little miffed by the interruption. "I don't know what I did wrong, but I shot the entire recital… but, um, now it... Crap." He turned the camcorder in his hand over and looked at the open flap with the screen, shaking it a little bit. "Now it won't play back."
The Nerd Herd employee blinked, then furrowed his brow, sending Sarah a quick look. "O-Okayyy." He gingerly reached out to take the camcorder and began to inspect it. "We'll just take a look and…" He popped open the tape holder and his face when blank. "You don't have a tape in here."
The father just stared back, his face just as blank as the younger man's. "But…it's digital."
Morgan breathed out an almost condescending, "Oh, boy." And rolled his eyes, turning away from the sight.
Shit, this guy was dumb, but more than that, he was absolutely toast.
Obviously the one with the lighter touch, the curly-haired tall guy cleared his throat, a pained look on his face. "Right. Yes. But you still need…digital tape."
Abject horror crossed the other man's face. "Oh, no. Oh my God. Oh my God. Her mom's going to kill me."
Sarah watched as the I.T. pro turned to give her a look, and then he turned back to the father and daughter, and back to her. But then she saw clear as day as his gaze lowered to the highly disappointed frown of the daughter, her eyes downcast, shoulders slumped.
And then he straightened up, the slouch he'd had to his shoulders gone for the first time since she'd arrived at his desk and found him scatting into the phone. "Morgan, I need the wall."
Sarah felt herself do a double take, her eyes widening.
"It's yours!" The bearded man scrambled off.
And then Chuck looked right at her again, holding his hand out in apology. "I'm so sorry."
She felt like there was a lot in the way he said that, and she thought he looked even more pained as he finally turned away from her and gestured to the father and daughter. "Okay. This-this way."
With his palms on the desk, he leapt over the counter and rushed towards the back wall he'd just talked about. What was he planning to do to help them after he rushed off, away from her? She tried not to think about the fact that she'd sort of just been flirting with him and he'd opted to go the route of helping an objectively foolish man and his poor daughter over staying here at the desk with her, continuing this slight spark she'd started to feel as they'd played their game with the phones.
Sarah snuck a little closer to see as the curly haired guy stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out a shrill whistle. Like a pack of white-shirt-wearing dogs, employees came out of the woodwork, alert even if they looked a little confused.
And she stood there, agog, watching as he gave them each assignments. They lifted products and shifted them to the side of the store, away from the large wall of TVs she assumed the employees dubbed "The Wall", and then they laid out a large mat in front of "The Wall" and set up the camcorder with a tripod.
An Asian girl in fishnets and pigtails, wearing the same shirt the man who'd fixed her phone was wearing stepped up behind the camera and Chuck ushered the man and his daughter over with a rapid wave of his hand.
He led her to stand in front of the TVs and Sarah couldn't resist. She had to be closer to this. This was easily the most fascinating display of unflinching kindness that she'd seen from a group of people in awhile, she thought. She couldn't look away.
"Dad, what's the music she danced to?" a short, stringy-haired man asked, crossing his arms at his chest. A balding red-head gaped at the father from behind his coworker, silent…just…staring.
"I…don't know. I…"
The daughter piped up then, the stringy-haired employee snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "Thanks, little girl!" And then he and the other man who seemed almost like his shadow, dashed off together.
Within moments they were back as a crowd of employees worked to connect wires to the TVs, and they headed to a stereo system the curly haired man who seemed to almost be like this place's ringleader. The respected and obeyed ringleader. She didn't notice the way she seemed to almost fold herself against the end cap she stood beside, watching him make the hurry up sign at his two coworkers by the stereo.
"We got the music?"
"Track 5!" the shorter of the two belted. "Ready!"
The curly-haired guy gave them a thumbs up, and then he spun from where he stood beside the little ballerina and he gave the fishnets woman a questioning look. She just nodded back with a snipped, "Yeah, I got it. I'm waiting for you to get out of the shot, though."
"Yeesh, okay!"
He chuckled and took the concerned dad away from the daughter to stand behind fishnets girl as she got set to record.
They were recreating her recital, Sarah'd since realized, smiling without even realizing it. It wouldn't be the same, but it was something. And it was seriously so sweet.
The Nerd Herd ringleader flashed the girl two thumbs up then and asked, "You ready?"
But Sarah sensed something was wrong when the little girl just dropped her eyes again, her shoulders slumping.
Just like that, the tall guy closed the distance between them and knelt down beside her, concern on his face. "What's wrong?"
Sarah moved even closer, needing to hear what was said.
The ballerina sighed unhappily and confessed, "I'm usually in the back row."
He looked confused. "Why?"
"I'm too tall," she said, her shoulders slumping even more as she played with her fingers in front of her, self-consciousness plaguing a face that was way, way too young for it. And even so, she found she related in a way that made her ache. She understood being that age and feeling self-consciousness. And how it had continued, following her into her professional life for awhile there. "I block the other ballerinas," the little girl said in misery.
He screwed his face up in concentration, and then he smiled, lifting his eyes up to catch the girl's gaze. "Can I tell you a secret? But you can't tell any of the other girls." She nodded eagerly, a sad look still on her face. "Real ballerinas are tall."
Something happened inside of her, something she couldn't quite understand, a warmth and a softness, and it increased when the girl's shoulders straightened, a smile, small as it was, widening on her face.
"Good?" he asked gently, grinning in a way that wrinkled his nose. She wondered if getting a look like that from a guy like this, with that much support and faith, might give her all the confidence in the world. "You got this."
He stood up and rushed back behind the camera, and her dad gave her a thumbs up. She got into her pose and Chuck pointed at the guys at the stereo.
Within minutes, the performance was over, and Sarah was beaming, clapping hard along with the rest of the audience of employees and customers that had wandered over to watch the ballerina dance beautifully.
"You get it?" the dad asked and the woman behind the camera nodded.
The Nerd Herd ringleader hastened over to the ballerina and gave her a high five, and she caught his gaze then, watching as his eyes raised to sweep over the crowd. He looked almost a little surprised to see her still there, and then he grinned so hard she nearly had to take a step back, and she smiled back, feeling almost shy now that she'd really seen him in action. His selflessness and kindness.
And then her phone rang and she looked at it. Shit, she knew it was the bank.
Oh, shit shit shit. Not right now. Shit.
"Hello?"
"Hello, is this Sarah? Sarah Walker?"
"Yes, it is."
"My name is Gregory, I'm calling from Burgess Bankers…"
She bit her lip, watching in frustration as another employee in a green shirt stopped the man she suddenly wanted to talk to for a lot longer… And it looked like he'd been stopped by the other employee to maybe chastise him? She could tell by his body language that Chuck was pissed off about it, or just completely annoyed and tired.
"Yes, hi! I'm so sorry about earlier. My phone was giving me a lot of trouble, but I took it in and it's fixed and I'm all set. Thank you for calling." She rushed away from the scene, rolling her eyes in annoyance at herself, and at this Gregory guy's timing, even though she needed this loan so bad.
As she continued to converse with him, she passed the Nerd Herd desk, and then she stopped…
Should she?
Was that nuts? Was she absolutely batshit crazy?
God, she was.
And she leaned over the desk to grab a pad of post-its, quickly scrawling her phone number on it and writing Sarah. She nearly dashed off then, leaving the number there, but then she smiled to herself, a bit mischievously, and she drew a simple line with a 1 at one end and a 5 at the other. Then she wrote 7 next to the 5 and circled it pointedly. There was his grade.
Beaming, she made her way out of the store, having officially scored one of the loans she'd needed for her chocolatier.
$...$
"I'll have this all cleaned up in no time and we'll be back in business again, Harry. No problem," he said flatly.
Harry Tang just got in his face even more. "The fact that this happens in the first place while you're here supposed to be managing things while Big Mike is gone is exactly why you aren't on the shortlist for the open Assistant Manager position."
Chuck raised his eyebrows. "There's an opening for Assistant Manager?"
"See? You don't know. And why should you? You're a clown, just like the rest of these jokers."
"Okay, thanks, Harry. Give it 5 minutes and it'll be back to normal. Promise."
"Do you know what 5 minutes means in Buy More dollars?"
"I didn't realize we had our own currency."
"Clean all this up now," Harry snapped, ignoring Chuck's sarcasm.
"Oh, see, um, I can't because I was told by Big Mike that I was in charge for the rest of the day and he didn't say anything about taking orders from short bald guys, so find somebody else to boss around to make yourself feel big." He brushed past Harry Tang, feeling good about what he'd just done.
But then he slumped, shuffling back to the desk. The empty desk.
Because she was gone.
God, before Harry had accosted him for no reason, she'd been right there. Where'd she go? Why'd she go? And then he felt ridiculous, because he knew why she'd gone.
Morgan swung over to the desk and froze then, his eyes going big. "Chuck. CHUCK. DUDE."
"What?" He closed the distance, feeling that crap disillusionment starting to flood him again.
But then Morgan held up a pad of post-it notes and hit it almost violently with his other finger. "That's a phone number! A PHONE NUMBER!"
Well, that was… interesting.
"Whose?"
"What do you mean, whose? CHUCK. It's hers! It says Sarah on it! And look! Look what she put here! Oh my God!"
His enthusiasm wasn't rubbing off on Chuck this time as he took the pad, still feeling a thread of annoyance from Tang mixed with the disappointment from finding out she'd left.
But Chuck took the post-it anyway and looked. She'd drawn a 1 to 5 scale, and then she'd written 7 and circled it. The meaning wasn't lost on him, and he smiled, letting out a quiet snort. She was cute. Better than cute, she was probably the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen in her life, and she'd been funny too. Legitimately funny.
He couldn't help wishing he'd given the dad an Oh well! And stayed with her.
But he never would've done that. It was a personal failing of his, this selflessness that screwed him over every time.
"That-That's it?" Morgan asked when Chuck dropped the pad of post-its back onto the desk. "An insanely gorgeous woman who looks like Vicki Freaking Vale left you her PHONE NUMBER, dude."
"Yeah, she did." He shrugged. "And?"
"A-What? So call her. Use it, punch it into your phone, and call her." Chuck shook her head. "What? Why? Why wouldn't you call this girl!"
Chuck gave his best friend the most tired look he was capable of and sassed, "Oh I don't know. Did you SEE HER?"
"Yes. I was standing right here. I saw her. She's unreal amounts of pretty. And she was also flirting with you, Chuck. I was watching, there was this…just…electricity. Chemistry. Whatever you wanna call it. Flowing between you, dude. This is your time. This is the moment. Don't miss it. Call her. Why aren't you calling her? Pick up your phone and CALL HER."
Chuck just groaned and snagged the post-it she'd written on, stuffing it in his pocket. "Fine! But later. I have to work. If I don't, fuckin' Tang is probably gonna tattle on me to Big Mike and then I'll miss out on any chance I might have to get some sort of promotion in this hell scape that is the Burbank Buy More. And a girl like this definitely won't be going for me then." He patted the pocket he'd put her number into, still completely confused as to what she'd written on the note. And why she'd written anything at all.
What was that about?
And he kept thinking about it for the rest of the day.
All the way up until he was walking out to the parking lot behind the Buy More where he found his Herder after they closed down the store hours later.
Sure, she'd played along with him after he fixed her phone, but he doubted that was about him as much as it was probably just who she was as a person. He'd be lying if he tried to act like that didn't make him want to see her again even more. He wanted to get to know her better. He wanted her to keep flashing that smile at him. He wanted to hear her laugh again, have her talk to him again. She'd tilted her head a few times when talking to him and it had made his insides go numb and tingly all at once.
God, she was just so pretty.
So pretty.
Stunning, even.
And he decided it was best to just push her out of his mind.
But when he got back to his apartment complex, he parked and made his way towards his gate, finding Morgan on his heels. "What—How the hell did you ride your bike this fast? Why are you following me home?"
"I took short cuts. And hey, we're buddies, Chuck! I could tell today you were a little down in the dumps, which I thought was super weird since a stupidly pretty woman gave you her phone number." Chuck rolled his eyes. "You're acting really weird about it like you aren't going to act on that phone number and I just want to make sure you do."
"You're killing me, Smalls."
"Chuck, we gotta work on that lack of self-confidence. You can't keep hyperfixating on—"
"Don't."
"Okay, fine. I won't say her name but I just worry about you. So yes I followed you home." There was a pause. "And also can I use your computer? Mine still isn't working."
"Theeeere it is."
"Irene Demova."
"Jesus Christ, Morgan."
"So beautiful and so…deadly to the hard drive."
"Yeah…"
They walked into the courtyard side by side, Chuck giving his best friend a teasing shove and getting one back before he chuckled and went in to unlock the door to the apartment he shared with his sister and her boyfriend. "Why don't we just drop the whole thing with the phone number, though, okay?"
"Okay, we'll drop the phone number, but I'm going to talk about the fact that she flirted with you on a post-it note. She circled 7, Chuck! I mean, my God! Not even 6 but 7! You asked her to give you a grade and we had this sort of 3 person flirtation going on for a bit there—"
"Uh, we absolutely did not."
"Okay fine. We didn't. She never gave you a grade but then she circled 7 and—oh shit."
Chuck followed his gaze after he swung his door open.
Oh shit was right.
The living room of his apartment had been torn to shreds, chairs on their sides, papers from the desk where Ellie sat to do bills and other work strewn about the floor.
Chuck immediately got into fighting pose. "Who is it? Who's there?!"
"What're you—?"
"SH!" He crept further into the apartment. "Come out! I…have a black belt in kung-fu!"
But nobody made a peep. He pushed open various doors in the hallway, waiting to be ambushed. But he wasn't. And instead, he found his room in particular had been ransacked. "Oh no, my mint condition action figures!" Those were worth so much money. He tugged the box out from the bottom of his bookcase and opened it, but found everything was still there, in spite of it being yanked open in a way that had wrecked the flaps of the box. "Oh. They're still here."
"Everything is still here. Even your Cap issue that's worth 500 bucks is still here, dude." Morgan had followed him into his room, mouth hanging open. "What the hell were they looking for? Did they even take anything?"
"Nothing of mine," Chuck said, shrugging. "My computer," he said suddenly, peering at the screen next to Morgan.
"Oh shit, they took your…no they didn't. It's right here," Morgan said, pointing, confused.
"No, they didn't take it, but they went on it. Look."
"Huh? How do you know?"
"It's on. And they logged into it, Morgan. They got onto my computer. Not only was this off when I left this morning, I have it super super super super super password protected. Like, the government couldn't get into this thing. But somebody did."
Morgan shrugged. "Maybe Ellie did. Anyway, why does somebody wanna get on your computer?"
"Ellie doesn't have my password and she'd never guess it. And I don't know! I haven't done any of…ahem…that stuff on it since…Stanford."
Chuck was creeped out, but as they worked to straighten things out, he wondered just what had happened in his apartment. And if he should call the police or just leave them out of it since nothing was stolen.
Morgan did find that the "Morgan door" had been pried open. It had probably been how they got in and then out again. And it freaked him out to think that whatever the person who'd broken in had been looking for, maybe before they could find it, they'd heard him coming in with Morgan and had to make a quick break for it.
By the time Ellie came back from her shift, they had most everything straightened out and it was nearing midnight, and the three of them found themselves at the table with fast food.
"I don't get it. Someone broke into our apartment through your bedroom window, hacked themselves onto your computer, fucked up our living room, stole nothing, didn't do anything to your computer once they got into it…" Ellie listed on her fingers, popping a French fry into her mouth. Chuck nodded. "What the hell?"
"I didn't even call the cops, because what are they gonna do? Nothing got taken. They just tossed some stuff on the floor." Chuck shook his head. "I'm so confused and creeped out. Like, if they'd stolen my computer, I'd be less weirded out and less scared right now. Pissed, but less scared."
Morgan moved to take one of Ellie's fries and she smacked his hand hard, giving him the most dangerous look he'd seen on her face in quite some time. Morgan shrunk to a third of his natural size.
"Look, we're fine. Our things are fine. We'll just get someone to fix the lock on your window."
"But…that's my door. That's how I get in," Morgan argued.
"Well, Morgan, you can use the actual door like everyone else. That's what it's for." Ellie gracefully extended her hand to gesture at their door.
He pouted.
"Should I call the police?"
"Hours later?" Ellie asked, raising her eyebrow. "They don't care."
"They aren't gonna find anything we didn't already find," Morgan shrugged, sipping his grape soda.
"I seem to recall you sitting on my bed coming up with all of the different ninja burglar scenarios that could've explained this instead of helping me look for clues," Chuck said flatly.
"Right, I was thinking like a cop. That's why I said that."
"You are such an idiot," Ellie breathed, staring at him.
The conversation continued, but Chuck was trapped in his own head, wondering what in the hell had gone on in his apartment while they were all gone that night. Who had broken in? What were they looking for? Whatever it was, they hadn't found it, he was pretty sure.
One thought continued to plague his mind.
If they hadn't found it tonight, would they come back?
$...$
Sarah frowned deeply as she sat on the other side of Sue's desk. "How did it come to this?" she asked the realtor, nibbling on her lip, looking down at the phone Sue had just hung up after a mini conference call. "I had, like, 7 options 2 days ago, and just like that, I have 2?"
"I'm sorry, Sarah," Sue said, shaking her head. She looked exhausted with the turn of events, too, at least. "It was out of my hands."
"What's wrong with wanting to start a chocolate shop in downtown LA? It's a completely viable business. God, people here are obsessed with places that only sell peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and they don't think my chocolatier can make it? They want 'stability'?" She did bunny ears and rolled her eyes. "People love chocolate."
"Well, I sure as hell love chocolate," Sue said supportively. "Some of these people, honestly, are just jerks. They are fickle. They have their own ideas about business and what can and can't work. And then things like this happen, a fantastic would-be tenant getting thrown out to the curb." She sighed as Sarah folded in on herself, wondering how many other people would have the same ideas about her business venture.
Sue continued. "The bad news is that your top choice has passed on your offer. That's disappointing." To say the least. Sarah had really been banking on the downtown spot, people walking past every day, a bus stop right across the street and a metro stop at the end of the block, too. "But the good news is that you still have two very good options left."
Sarah felt disillusioned about the last two options. One was practically in Pasadena and would take her away from where she'd been living since arriving in LA. And the other was in Burbank, not a terrible commute, but at a shopping center that made her wonder if she'd get any significant foot traffic.
Granted, if she ever needed to buy anything electronic, she'd be set.
Maybe. Could she even go in there again after she'd left her number on the Nerd Herd desk like a complete loser, only to spend the next 4 days picking up her cell phone and looking to see if she'd missed a call or had a text?
She didn't know if she was being a teenager for dwelling on that still. There was a desperately lame voice in her head that told her he hadn't found the post-it she left. Somebody had put something on top of it and then it ended up lost before he'd ever seen it.
But then it served her right for leaving her phone number for a guy after a few minutes of playing a game over an I.T. counter and then seeing him shirk continuing to flirt with her to instead be so sweet it made her almost swoon.
Real ballerinas are tall.
Sarah shook herself and looked back down at the 2 options Sue had slid before her. "Well, let's try the one in the cute little old town street. It's nice and quaint and would probably fit really nicely with the vibe of my shop."
She wasn't going to admit, even to herself, that part of the reason she was honing in on the property she was calling Almost-Pasadena was because the other property made her feel that sting to her pride all over again.
And maybe it was a little more than just a sting to her pride. Maybe she was also kind of disappointed.
Pushing that out of her mind, she waited as Sue set up the appointment to see the Almost-Pasadena property again, this time with a guided tour by the guy who owned a lot of the spaces on the block.
He'd at least sounded excited about the prospect of a chocolate shop.
She and Sue got into their respective cars and drove the almost 45 minutes in traffic to the spot. The drive alone had nearly made Sarah sure she couldn't do this twice a day for the rest of her life.
And as they got out, Sue tried to persuade her that this was just a bad day because there was an accident on the 110 Freeway. She said it would usually take less than a half hour, and more like 20 minutes.
Sarah didn't believe her but she also decided not to say that out loud.
As they approached the space, Sarah surveyed it for a second time. It was more expensive than the Buy More shopping center space, but it really was so cute. It had a striped awning, a cute little green door, large windows with space for her to put all of her creations to lure passersby in.
It was exactly what she'd pictured in her mind.
The door was opened then and a man with a pair of tan Bermuda shorts and a black button-down, the top buttons undone, stepped out. He stopped dead as his eyes moved from Sue to Sarah. And she immediately felt a not-okay vibe.
He was probably in his late 30s but the way he slicked his hair back from his forehead, exposing grey hairs, made him look older.
"Sammy Grufalino," he introduced himself, shaking their hands. "Are, uh, you the realtor or the chocolate woman?" He fixed Sarah with a long look, his lips turning up at the edges in a way that made her want to strangle him with his own belt.
"I'm Sarah Walker. I'm maybe looking to rent this space." Emphasis on the maybe.
"Oh, that is good news." Gross.
"Shall we take a look inside?" Sue asked, unfazed by his rudeness. Sarah wondered how often the woman got treated like this in her job.
"You're Sue then," he said with a nod. "Alright, sure, come on it." He opened the door and gestured them inside. "Ladies, first."
Sarah felt his green eyes on her as she went in after Sue, and she peered around the cute shop with its marble counters, the glass cases, the shelves, and places for people to sit. "This place really is so lovely," she breathed, smiling at the dark wood everywhere.
"Well, thanks. Bought it muhself," he teased, stepping around her. But then his fingers were against her upper back, making her tense as she shot him a severe look. "Perfect for whatever cute little chocolates you cook up," he said, pointing at the glass cases. Temperature controlled, too. I take care of my tenants," he said with a nonchalant shrug, but the implication was anything but nonchalant.
"And the tables and chairs?"
"Comes with the space, included in your down payment and rent."
Sue's phone rang then and she pulled it out to turn it off, but stopped herself as she looked at the screen. "Oh gosh, it's my son. Would you mind if I take this?"
"Of course not," Sarah insisted, waving her hand.
"Thank you. Be right back, continue the tour without me," and she rushed out onto the sidewalk where Sarah could see her pacing.
"So what made you like chocolate so much, Sarah?" Mr. Grufalino asked. He leaned his hip against the glass case, and crossed his arms, smirking at her with half-lidded eyes. It didn't have the effect he wanted it to have.
"Oh, um…working with it so much in the kitchen before. It's just a dream of mine."
"You do cooking professionally then? Wow that is a dream."
Sarah slowly turned to look him squarely in the face.
"I'm kidding. Just a joke. Obviously you're very accomplished, otherwise you wouldn't be trying to move into one of my storefronts. This street ain't exactly cheap, you know?"
"Yes, I know."
But this guy did seem cheap.
Dirt cheap.
"You know, I could shave a little off the rent. If you let me come by sometimes and sample the product."
Sarah clenched her jaw right as Sue came back inside and she whipped around to tell Sue to go right back outside and she'd be right behind her, after she kneed this guy in the balls. But she stopped at the look on Sue's face.
"Listen, Sarah…I'm so sorry, but I need to cut this short. My son broke his arm at basketball practice." She looked legitimately worried, as she should be, so Sarah crossed to the door to join her.
"Don't apologize! Go take care of your son. I hope it's not a bad break."
"Oh. Thank you. I don't think it's too bad. Just…" Sue rolled her eyes. "Boys."
"I can finish giving Sarah the tour," Sammy offered and Sarah felt a chill go down her spine. She tried to give Sue a HELP ME look with her back turned to the building owner, but the woman was too lost in her worry to notice.
"Would that be alright, Sarah?" Sue asked.
"Er, sure, that's fine, yeah."
"Okay, I'll call you later to see how you're feeling about this place," she said under her breath, giving Sarah's arm a squeeze, and then she thanked Sammy Grufalino and was gone.
God damnit.
"Thought she'd never leave, eh?"
Rolling her eyes, Sarah turned around and looked at the space again. It was so nice. Beautiful even. It was quite nearly perfect. Everything she wanted.
But this guy was an absolute lech.
"What sorts of things do you make with chocolate?" He pushed away from the glass case and walked around the counter towards the door to the back. "Here, I'll show you the kitchen. Where the magic happens."
Sarah followed him, slipping one hand into her bag in case he tried anything. She had pepper spray. And years worth of self-defense classes. He wouldn't stand a chance.
"I can make just about anything. But I'll stick to the usual. Chocolate bars, flavors…some artisan chocolate, of course. Really anything with chocolate."
"A flavor connoisseur, hm? I can see that. You seem like taste would be important to you. Classy lady and all that."
How did this man exist in regular society?
The kitchen was wonderful and she sighed hopelessly upon looking at it, wandering away from him to feel the cool steel appliances against her fingers.
"She's hot, huh? The stove I mean. I can see you bent over it. …Making chocolate."
This just wasn't going to happen. And it was disgusting and she was angry now.
"Actually, you know, I've got to run."
"So soon? I haven't showed you the freezer."
"That's alright. My realtor will be in touch."
"Somethin' I said?"
But she just walked through the kitchen towards the storefront. Before she got to the door, he called out.
"Hey, I'd really like you to rent the space. I mean, you definitely get first dibs on this place, Sarah. I'll throw in a credit for—"
But Sarah just opened the door and walked out, heading right for her car.
No fucking way was she listening to even a second more of that. And she would absolutely tell Sue why. Later.
And now she had to deal with the reality of this situation. This shop of hers was starting on a bit of a bumpy road. Her last and only option was the ex-Chinese fast food space that shared a parking lot with the Buy More and a "spy shop".
Awkwardness be damned, that was going to be her new home.
And she was going to have to figure out how to make do.
Life as a woman every single day. But it's okay, Sarah. Fate awaits you. Haha.
Please review, I appreciate them. And thank you for reading.
SarahsSupplyCloset