Spying in Chocolate
By SarahsSupplyCloset
Author's Note: Thanks for the patience. Hope you enjoy this next chapter of Spying in Chocolate!
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck and I'm not making money.
Sarah was applying the finishing touches on a batch of artisan chocolates, specifically lavender tasting milk chocolate flowers on top of each one, when her phone rang.
She groaned, knowing it might be one of her landlords, or her contractor, or virtually anyone else who was a puzzle piece to this whole enterprise of hers, so she went to the sink to rinse her fingers, and rushed out of her kitchen to grab it.
Still wiping her hands with a cloth to dry them, she blindly snagged the phone and answered it. "Hello. This is Sarah."
"Oh." Damn it. "Hi, sweetie."
Sarah shut her eyes and took a deep breath. "Hi, Mom."
"How-How are you? How are you doing? How are things?"
Her mom cleared her throat, and Sarah was aware of the fact that it had probably been three months since the last time she'd spoken to Emma Walker, the woman whose last name Sarah had legally taken because her father's last name was still unknown to this day. There'd been a time when she'd been Burton. But that was over, since that name wasn't real. Nor were the other ones. This name was real, and she was keeping it, in spite of the tentative relationship she had with the woman who'd given it to her.
"Um, things are…okay." Was this where she'd have to tell her mom everything that had happened? She regretted not doing it earlier suddenly, as she pulled up a chair and sat down at her table.
The only things that remained to be handled in her apartment now were the cable set up for the TV she still hadn't bought, and the walls were absolutely bare. Also the boxes of things for her chocolatier, both the kitchen and office necessities, were still piled in the corner of the living room. She thought that would be where her TV would go. It'd be a reward for getting all those boxes out of here and to her chocolate shop. Buy a big TV and get cable.
"What's that mean? Okay."
"I dunno."
"Well, usually you say things are good and we leave it at that. See, your mom listens to you when you talk to her." The implication was clear. Because her dad definitely didn't. And Sarah hated that about this dynamic. Her mom liked to compare herself positively to Jack, as if Sarah needed a reminder that just about anybody would probably be a better parent than her father had been. It hurt to be reminded, and yet, Emma continued to remind.
"I know, Mom. Um, I'm just super busy. I have a lot on my plate."
"Is that a hint you have to get off the phone?"
"No, I'm just answering your question," Sarah said, trying to tamp down the frustration that was rising. "You wanted to know why I'm just okay, and I said I'm busy, I have a lot on my plate."
"Oh. Like what?"
Here it went. And then she'd have to deal with her mom being hurt, she knew. "Well?" She sighed. "Okay, well, I sort of made a big life change, Mom. And I've been trying to get the dust settled before I…said anything."
"Oh my God, did you get married, Sarah?" What? "Did you marry that guy you've been dating at the bakery? The really cute one you refused to introduce me to when I came out to visit last year? Sar—"
"I'm not married, Mom! Jesus, why is that the first thing you go to?"
"I don't know. I'm a mom. I guess I want to know that you're being cared for."
"Well, I'm not. Or, I-I am but…not by him. Not by anyone but myself. I'm taking care of myself. Mom, Bryce is—"
"That's right, his name is Bryce. Interesting name. But ugh, that picture you sent me of the two of you was just so sweet. I'm glad you have someone, honey."
The pit in her chest was opening.
"Mom, that's over."
There was a long pause. And then, "What is?"
"That relationship. Bryce and me. We're done."
"Oh. Oh, Sarah, sweetie, I-I'm sorry. You two seemed so happy together." And that was just another testament to just how uninvolved her mom was in her life, just how little she knew her. Because it was clear to Sarah now, with hindsight in place, that she wasn't necessarily happy in that relationship. She was just…as Chuck had so eloquently pointed out about his own life the other day…in a rut. Bryce and that job at Rambeau's was part of that rut probably, and she hadn't realized it then. She knew it now.
"We were only okay together, not really…happy. I thought it was happy, but it was just…going through the motions."
"Didn't look like it to me. You always sounded very in love."
"Well, I wasn't, Mom. I liked him. A lot. Which is why I felt like shit when it all happened, when we broke up. But all you saw was a picture and heard me talk about him a handful of times, Mom, so you don't really know what that relationship was like for me, do you?"
"I guess I don't. I just thought maybe there was a chance he might be…"
"What?"
"Well, the one. Such a driven boy."
"Yeah, driven," Sarah scoffed. "You're right about that much, considering he screwed our boss to rise through the ranks in the kitchen."
Her mom was silent for a while. Until… "He did what?"
"Yeah. That is why it's over, Mom. He was having an affair with my boss, Julia Rambeau. They were having sex behind my back, for how long, I don't know. But I'm done with him, and her, and that whole bakery. Actually, I'm done with that whole city, as a matter of fact."
"Sarah, I-I had no idea. Why didn't you call me when it happened? What a complete bastard! Do you need me to come to D.C.? I can help around the apartment. Oh, you poor thing."
"I handled it, Mom. But I'm done." She decided the nice thing to do would be to add a thank you, so she did. "And…thanks. For the offer. But I'm already out of there. I'm probably never going back. Actually I'm pretty much certain I'm not going back."
"To Rambeau's?"
"To D.C…"
Another pause. "Wait, you moved? Away from D.C.? Sarah, when?"
Sarah decided not to answer that. "I'm actually in a new apartment now, all moved in. Um…"
"Wait, where are you?"
"I'm…Mom, I'm in Los Angeles." She heard the stillness in her mother and she wondered if she'd be sadder or angrier that her daughter hadn't told her this until she'd actively called herself. "I needed a big change from Washington, D.C. and I needed a big change from that bakery. I-I realized that everybody I was friends with was also affiliated with Rambeau's and had a lot to lose if they chose me instead of their boss. And they all picked Bryce and Julia. I didn't have anything left there, not even one friend. I just needed to get the hell out. And I wanted to be on the other side of the country. I have some fond memories of Southern California. You know, in spite of…some not so fond memories. The fond ones are clearer. And I thought…I don't know, why not try the city of angels?"
"Wait, Sarah… You're in LA? Right now?"
"Yeah. I got an apartment. I'm renting a space in a shopping center and I'm going to start my own business."
"Oh. You-You're already in LA and you—What? You're starting a business? Sarah, you don't think—Well, I always told you things when you were growing up and you never listened, so I doubt you will now. I won't even say it."
"What, Mom?" Her mom sounded a little miffed, she thought. So now this was another thing she'd have to deal with. And she could've just called her mom when she first did this a month ago now and nipped it in the bud.
"Are you sure this is…prudent?"
"I don't care if it's prudent or not. It's what I want, Mom, and I'm gonna make it happen."
"Well, you always did have your father's knack for taking risks."
"That's not fair," she said, leaning forward in her chair, a spark of anger in her chest. "That is not fair, Mom."
"I didn't mean it like—"
"Dad's risks got him thrown in jail because they were illegal. I make plans. I plan. I planned this before I did it. I scoured LA for an apartment I could make a home in. I then scoured LA with a realtor to find the perfect place for my shop, and I found it. It's perfect. I did all the necessary work. I've put in the time and the effort. I planned. So that it wasn't as much of a risk."
"Sweetie, I know. You aren't like him like that. I didn't mean that. This is just such a massive decision."
"It's something I've been planning for years, Mom. This is what I've always wanted to do. Ever since I was little." She didn't know why there was a bubble of emotion in her throat. "I'm making it happen for myself. I don't need Bryce, or Rambeau, or that bakery, or any of those people who have been, by the way, leaving me messages on my phone asking me what in the hell I think I'm doing moving across the country and opening my own chocolate shop. They think I'm nuts. But I-I don't want people who are anything less than supportive, people who don't have faith in me, in my life anymore. I'm cutting those people out."
"Well, good," her mom breathed, sounding overwhelmed. "You should cut them out. Screw that. Screw them. My daughter can do anything she puts her mind to. It is in the Walker genes."
Sarah smiled for the first time since answered the phone. "Thanks, Mom."
"I just want to know why you didn't tell me you were moving right up the road from me!"
And there is was.
"I didn't leave you out on purpose, Mom. But I just had this one track mind. I was gonna call when the dust settled, like I said."
"Why do you have to wait for the dust to settle? I could've been up there helping you move, Sarah. Helping you with the shop. We could've gone apartment hunting together!"
Sarah didn't like the sound of that, apparently not like her mom did. That sounded like torture. They'd fight again and her mom would go stomping off to her car and disappear in a cloud of smoke.
That was what typically happened when they got together.
Eventually.
Her dad said they were too similar, but Sarah didn't think she was like either of her parents.
"I-I know this was impulsive, Mom. But I feel like I've been going through the motions and doing things to try to get…I don't know, other people to feel like I was good at stuff, like I was worthy of what I have, where I was, and I was trying to please everyone but myself. I love making chocolate, Mom. I'm really, really good at it. And I needed to just do this for myself. To prove myself…to myself."
Emma sighed. "I get that. I just wish that you'd called."
Sarah shut her eyes. "Honestly, I wish I had too. But you know now."
"Well, can I come up some weekend and see you? I can help with the shop. We can use your new kitchen in the shop and make some of my famous brownies."
Smiling, Sarah shook her head. "The ones from scratch?"
"Pfft. Of course."
"Fine. But it'll have to wait. I'm dealing with a problem with the shop's, er, infrastructure. Turns out it has asbestos."
"Oh God!"
"Yeah. So the landlords are great and are paying to have it all cleaned out and actually inspected properly to make sure there isn't a trace of the crap left. Then I can get back to work to try to get my chocolatier opened. And maybe I can use that kitchen again. Ugh."
"Have you threatened to sue yet? I mean, they should have told you before you signed a rental agreement. You should've checked with—"
"Mom, it's over. I've got it handled."
"I know. You've always got everything handled."
Sarah decided to ignore that tone. "I'll let you know when things are at a point where you can visit, okay, Mom?"
"Alright, fine. In the meantime, I'll just wonder if you're okay. Like always. I'm sorry about Bryce, honey. And your boss, too. I'm throwing out my Rambeau baking book. She's awful."
"Unfortunately, she's probably one of the best bakers in the country," Sarah sighed. "Don't throw out the book. There are good recipes in there."
"Well… Maybe I'll scribble all over her face with a sharpie."
That made Sarah laugh. "Okay, mom, I've gotta go. I need to finish these chocolates I'm making."
"Oh. Well, okay. Um, Sarah, I'm…Well, good for you. Good for you saying sayonara to that jerk. All of those jerks. Good for you. And…keep in touch."
"I will."
"Okay. Bye."
"Bye, Mom."
She hung up, only to realize she hadn't asked about how her mom was doing. Was she still alone? Was she still in Carlsbad? Had she downsized? Did she still tutor special education students at the local schools?
Most of all, Sarah wondered if her mom had moved on from her dad yet. As much as things got in the way of her saying it out loud, she did love her mom, and she wanted her to be happy. Jack Burton had never made her very happy, and yet she'd clung to him, even when they separated and divorced, she clung to him.
Maybe that was what made Sarah so quick to say FUCK THIS about Bryce, cut her losses, and run.
Maybe she didn't want to be like her mom. Getting attached, caught up in, obsessed with, some guy who didn't give a shit about her.
She went back to her chocolates to finish them, her heart somehow heavier now.
Eventually, she'd have her mom up to visit, and maybe the visit would be perfectly fine. Maybe now that Sarah was back in SoCal, they could work on this relationship. They were both adults now. Maybe it'd be different.
"Maybe," Sarah muttered to herself, shaking her head as she got back to the chocolates.
$…$
Chuck stared at the now thoroughly wrinkled post-it in his fingers, his other hand buried in his curls. He was such an idiot. It had been a week now since they'd found the asbestos in the kitchen of Sarah's shop, and he had yet to go over there. It had been multiple weeks since Sarah had written her info down on this post-it. And he just didn't have the guts to pick up his damn phone and dial these numbers.
He'd seen the big scary looking trucks park around the building across the parking lot. He'd seen them climb out in their protective suits and goggles and masks.
Morgan had joined him just outside of the Buy More entrance to climb up on the bike rack and watch with him at one point. And he'd said "Whoa, what's goin' on there? Sarah find an alien or something?"
The crews were gone now though. And every time he'd glanced over there, he hadn't seen any blue car, the place looked quiet, abandoned.
He put the post-it back in his pocket and stood up, smoothing his hand over his curls.
But it was as he was walking around the Nerd Herd desk to go to the back and check on how Anna was doing with old modem repairs in the cage that he felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
Frowning, he turned on his heel.
It felt like he was being watched or something. Like someone's eyes were on him.
Scanning the store, his brow furrowed, he didn't see anyone.
Weird.
But he still felt that uncomfortable sensation, his hair standing up on the back of his neck, a shiver going down his spine. He hurried his step and then scanned his badge to get into the Employees Only area, shutting the door behind him, feeling calmer as he heard the door seal shut, the lock clicking.
"The hell?" he muttered to himself, before he shook his head and made his way to the back.
As he strolled into the warehouse, approaching the cage where he saw Anna hunched over one of the computers, she spotted him and looked up with a pissed look on her face. "This is fucked."
He stopped, raising his eyebrows. "What d'you mean?"
"These can't be salvaged, Chuck. That stupid prick Tang went and got us bamboozled. That hot tip he gave Big Mike got Big Mike and the rest of us conned. All of these computers are unsalvageable. We can't bring them back from the dead. They're fucking scrap. That's all they're good for. Recycling." She kicked at one of them with her boot, not hard enough to do damage, but Chuck winced anyway.
"Wait, hold on. Before we call the undertaker on these beauteous machines, what makes you say we can't fix them?"
"They're all missing certain very necessary parts that are needed for them to work. And it isn't like they all need the same part, it's varied. This one needs a processor. That one over there also needs a processor. A lot of them need processors. And then this one here," she explained, pointing, "is missing its motherboard. The whole fucking motherboard, Chuck. Same with other ones I cracked open. Some of them don't have tuner cards, or they're broken tuner cards, like physical damage I can't fix. Tuner card cables severed on some of 'em. Optical drives are fucked in some of them, or, AGAIN, missing. This is a mess of computers that are total shit. One of them had the inside burned out, probably some freak accident, but you can't see it from the outside. We got conned. We got sold a lot of junkyard shit. So…yeah…this is fucked."
Chuck groaned and pushed his hand through his hair. "To replace these parts, even to take bits and pieces out to fix as many as we can, that'd take…"
"A shit ton of money and time that we don't have?"
"Yep. Oh, crap. This is fucked. What do we do?"
Anna shrugged, looking pretty pissed. Well, more pissed than usual.
"Harry Tang is such a moron. Why did Big Mike trust him?"
"Why did you let him trust him?" Anna asked. Chuck gave her an offended look and she shrugged again. "Look, you're our fearless leader or whatever, Chuckles. So be fearless. You have to stand up for yourself, and for us, sometimes. Against that bald asshole Tang. You should've told Big Mike that he shouldn't trust some green shirt asshole to make a deal like that, to know what fixable machines look like, to know how not to get conned with a bunch of junk."
"How is this my fault?"
"Did I say it was your fault, string bean? No. But from here on out, computers are our deal. And that's it. Nobody else gets to put their hands into our pot. We make the deals with the computer parts. We find the old machines to fix up and sell. WE DO IT." She poked him in the chest. "That lil fucker can stay in his lane."
"I have to go tell Big Mike about this, don't I?"
"Yup."
"Shit."
"Yeah, shit."
Chuck was in a much worse mood by the time he stepped back out into the store, a storm cloud hovering over his head. He saw Harry Tang standing by a stack of toasters with his clipboard, counting inventory and stickering them. He wanted to go up to him and shove him through the stack of toasters, let the tower fall down over his head.
But he suppressed the urge and instead made a wide arc through the store to get to Big Mike's office. He really didn't want to get yelled at today, especially when he hadn't been the one to recommend the conman who'd sold them useless products they'd never be able to resell.
"What's that look for?"
Chuck just barely withheld the urge to yelp, turning on his heel with a jolt, and nearly flailing to knock over a cardboard stand-up of a "Buy More employee" holding coupons.
Sarah winced. "Sorry."
"Oh. Oh, it's you. Oh, thank you."
"Thank you? I just accidentally scared the shit out of you, I think."
"You did, I know. But I'm fine now. And it's worth it, because you're here."
She smiled. "Aw. That's sweet. Did I…interrupt something? You have a look on your face like someone just ran over your pet dog."
"Uh…it's more like…it hasn't happened yet, but it's going to happen, and I just have this…feeling. Like, Fido is heading out into the street and I can see the car coming around the corner."
Sarah frowned. "Okay, this metaphor is getting upsetting now. Too much detail."
"You're right. Shouldn't have named the dog. Sorry. Um, I'm…I just want to escape this place and go hide in your shop."
She shrugged. "You can if you want. The asbestos is gone."
"Is it?" He grinned. "Yay!"
"Yay is right. I'm finally back to doing the work I want to be doing, but I have to get the Beckman guys back out here and they're working other jobs apparently so they'll be a few days. The asbestos thing bumped me to the bottom of their priority list, I'm sure."
"Well, you're not at the bottom of mine," he said, warmly.
She let out a quiet giggle. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me, I think." She shrugged then. "Why don't you leave this squalor behind and join me in the shop that's filled with wall holes and sawdust and other crap. There might be chocolate in the fridge…"
"Oh my God, that sounds amazing. And yes. Absolutely." He almost went right for her, with the intention of grabbing her by her arm and marching them both out of this place, across the parking lot, and into her soon-to-be chocolate shop. But he halted and sighed, his conscience getting the better of him. "Wait. I can't." She raised an eyebrow. "At least, not until after I go see my boss and give him some…um…pretty bad news."
She bit her lip and wrinkled her nose. "How bad is pretty bad?"
"The store manager might be in some serious hot water pretty bad."
"Oof, like fired hot water?"
"Perhaps!"
"That's pretty bad."
"Yes. And, um, I'm pretty sure yelling will be involved." He looked over his shoulder in the direction of Big Mike's office. It was all closed up, and the big guy had no idea what was coming as he sat in there in that very moment. He'd know soon enough.
"At you? Why? You do it?"
"Nope. But I didn't do enough to stop it, and I take responsibility for that."
"You?"
"I should've taken control of the computer donations, I should've pushed Tang out of the equation, told him to mind his own business. Anna's right, I got too…Well, I didn't pay attention. Now we got conned into buying a bunch of computers that are so busted up it'll take more money than we have to fix 'em."
"Oh. Oh no."
"Oh yes. Compliments of Harry Tang who knows exactly nada about computers. So I am kind of to blame." He didn't want to admit to Sarah that he'd fallen asleep on the job so to speak.
He sighed heavily, then turned back to look at her. "Will you do me a favor?" She smiled and he took it as a yes.
She was wearing a tan sundress with a yellow flower pattern and she just looked so gorgeous, her hair up in a messy ponytail, the tail falling in waves over her shoulder. How was she this pretty? She was like a spot of bright light in a dark, dark day.
"I have a feeling I'm definitely going to need…this," he gestured to her, "and all of that," he gestured out of the front doors towards where her shop was, "after this talk I have with the boss man. Could you…wait for me?" Then he shook himself. "Wait, you came here for a reason I'm sure. And I haven't asked because I'm so…caught up in my own troubles. I'm sorry. Did you need help with something?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Um, no. Not really. I just came…well, I thought maybe you could…It's…not important. I kind of just wanted to say hi and see if you were here. It's been a bit since…I saw you. That's all."
Chuck grinned. "Okay. Well…um…I don't know how long Big Mike's gonna talk with me or if he'll…um, murder me or something. Like, I'm not sure how much of a chunk is gonna be taken out of me when you see me again. But…will you wait? I know I shouldn't be asking y—"
"I'll wait," she interrupted. "Of course. Somebody needs to help you find that chunk again. Or…something."
He chuckled, and then gave her a grateful look. "Thank you. I'll…try not to die in there. But if I do, it was nice knowing you." He turned to go, but then he spun back. "And I need you to know, if I do die, that your chocolates are seriously the best I've ever tasted, and I've eaten so much damn chocolate."
She giggled hard, shaking her head. He turned to go to his boss's office, knowing this was not going to be pretty. But at least he also knew that when it was over, he'd have Sarah waiting for him. With her kitchen of holes and chocolates.
$…$
Sarah watched him go, worrying her lip between her teeth. His shoulders were at least a little less slumped than they'd been, the look of abject worry and frustration was still there though.
She wondered what had happened that was THAT bad.
Sighing, she waited for him to enter the office, a massive wince on his face as he walked in and shut the door behind him, before she turned and wandered back to the Nerd Herd desk.
The truth was, she'd missed him. And she hadn't felt like they were at a place where she could just come to the Buy More without being at the shopping center for her shop, just to see him. That was…too much.
So she'd waited for the whole asbestos fiasco to clear up. She waited for there to be a reason for her to be at the shop, before she came in seeking the man who'd become sort of a beacon of light for her in the last few weeks.
If she was being honest with herself, he was one of the only things in her life currently that she could count on to make her feel good. Everything else just felt really uncertain.
He was a lot more certain.
At least, she was certain in the fact that it felt comfortable being around him. Like she could take a full breath of air. Like she didn't have to worry about who she was, or how she was, or where she came from…what came before all of this.
"I want one, Jeffrey."
Blinking, Sarah turned to follow the breathy, rushed voice, spotting two men wearing the same white button-up Chuck was currently wearing. Though his fit him a lot better than theirs fit them.
"So do I. But alas. There's only one."
"Of course. Of course there's only one. That's how girls like this work. It's why only the super hot man models end up with them."
Sarah narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. "Um, you realize I can hear everything you're saying about me, right?"
The red-haired one's eyes bugged out. "She speaks to us."
The dark-haired one looked over his shoulder. "Nobody is behind us. She must be talking to us."
"O golden haired goddess. Whatever you ask of us…"
"Okay, this is getting to be a bit much, so I'm going to just go somewhere else in the store." They just gaped as she fixed a bit of hair behind her ear. "Do me a favor and just stay here though. Or, like, somewhere where I'm not. Preferably."
"Yes, O Goddess Divine," the red-haired one slurred.
She hightailed it out of there, trying to hunch a little to hide behind the rows of DVDs so that they couldn't find her again. That was easily the creepiest encounter she'd had in a while and she'd like not to ever have to replicate that. Not ever again.
It was a whole half hour of perusing DVDs, long enough to the point where she wondered if she shouldn't just go wait for him at her shop, when she spotted him walking quickly past the row she was in. His chin was up, looking for her, she thought. And it made something warm spill through her.
"Psst. Chuck."
He stopped already past her row, then took a few hopping steps backwards, almost like someone jerked him back by the scruff of his neck. And a relieved grin exploded over his face. "Oh. Hi."
"Shh!" She put a finger to her lips and waved him over, hunching again.
"What?" he hissed, obviously confused. But he was sweet and observant, so he knelt down a bit to mimic her position. "What's wrong?"
"I'm trying not to attract attention."
"Ah, I see," he whispered, leaning in even closer. She blushed a little at how close but he didn't seem to notice thankfully. "You commit a crime and now the cops are after you?"
She giggled at the goofy conspiratorial way his eyes went shifty, even as she felt a stab go through her chest. He didn't know that she had. Many crimes. None of which she was ever charged for, only suspected…
"Nope. Um, actually, uh, I was waiting for you at the Nerd Herd desk and…well, these two guys—"
"Oh shit. Lester and Jeff."
Sarah blinked. "How did you know that just by me saying 'two guys'?"
"Because there are two of them, they're attached at the hip, and they would be the guys who'd make a person want to hide." He shrugged.
"I'm not the first person to actively hide from them then, am I?" He winced and shook his head, making her giggle. "Can we maybe get out of here?" Then she swiped her gaze down his uniform and back up again. "Wait, I'm sorry. You're on the clock. I can't just keep stealing you from your job."
Chuck shook his head. "You're not. Let me just go get my jacket and my lunch."
She checked her watch. "Lunch?"
"Just haven't gotten to it yet." Shrugging, he began to back away from her. "If you wanna wait outside for me, you can. You know, where it's safe from the potential lawsuit waiting to happen."
Laughing, she nodded, watching him hurry towards the back again. In spite of him teasing and bantering with her like usual, she saw something in his face still, something that made her feel a little protective.
Had he gotten busted? Jesus, was he leaving his job in the middle of his shift because he got fired?
Sarah went out the front doors, thankfully without much incident. She did have the hair standing up at the back of her neck at one point, but when she glanced over her shoulder, she didn't see Jeff or Lester anywhere. A little creeped out, she walked through the sliding doors and moved to the right of the door, leaning against the bike racks and waiting.
Chuck didn't take long this time, but he didn't come through the front doors. Instead she spotted him coming around the corner of the building. She gave him a confused look as he approached.
"It was easier to go out that way. Less people would see me escaping, too." He tapped his temple. "I'm smart like that."
"Ah." She giggled, pushing off from the bike rack and pulled her jacket tighter around her as a cold breeze went past. They turned and started across the lot towards her shop. She worried her lip between her teeth thoughtfully, wondering if she'd be crossing a line if she asked what had happened in that office. Or if he was okay.
But Chuck spoke up first. "You waited for me in there…"
She shrugged. "I said I would."
"Yeah, I know. But it was, like, 35 minutes or something. I honestly thought you would've gotten tired of waiting at the 10 minute mark and left."
"I might be a little impatient, Chuck, but I can wait 35 minutes," she said, sending him a teasing narrowed eyed look.
"No, that's not a dig on you!" he rushed out, and he touched her elbow gently. The breeze played with his curls and she smiled. She turned to look in the other direction just in case her smiled looked a little stupid. He was just really cute with his curls all wild, the contemplative look on his face, his Buy More jacket's collar tucked under like he'd thrown it on in a rush. "I'm glad you waited. Thank you for waiting. I appreciate it. That was the point I was trying to make."
"You're welcome," she said, nudging him with her shoulder. He grinned at her. That thing was still in his eyes, though. So she sighed. "You okay after talking to your boss about the bad thing?"
He hissed and shifted the Tupperware he held in his hands, tucking it under one arm, so that he could use his other hand to dig in his pocket. "Not only did it not go great, this is my pocket protector that used to be on my pocket right here." He pulled it out. "And, uh, what used to be my badge. He already broke his rolling chair and needed something else to break, so he took this."
Sarah snatched the badge from his hand. "Oh my God!" He broke it in half right where Chuck's face was. "This is abusive!"
"Nah, he's gonna replace it. I'll come back after the weekend and he'll have a brand new one as well as a pocket protector with new pens. And he'll apologize." He shrugged. "The guy is in a bad spot. But he never should've trusted someone Harry Tang recommended in the first place."
"Are you okay?"
Chuck smiled. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good. Bummed for him. It's 50/50 at this point whether or not he gets fired. Tang has to get fired."
She saw a bigger smile on his face at that and she smirked. "You look pleased about that development."
"Yeah, I fuckin' hate the guy. We all do. He's a tyrant. And his head is so big I don't get how he fits it through the door to come to work every day. He's just…such a piece of shit to everybody. Although, I think his mom is a lawyer, so maybe he'll get off with a transfer. In which case, sucks for the company, but as long as he's out of my damn face, I'm good."
He shoved everything back in his pocket.
"What about you? Is your job okay? Do I have to go in there and put a good word in for you? You've been very helpful. I'm extremely pleased with the service you've provided." She tilted her head and smiled with a wink, and the grin on his face told her he picked up on her flirtation and liked it. "No, seriously, though." She wrapped her hand around his arm. "You still have a job, right? The way you just walked outta there with me without blinking an eye…"
"I have a job," he said, nodding. "I'm not fired. But he did send me home for the weekend. He said he doesn't want to see my face."
"That's a fucked up thing to say to somebody who does, like, ten people's work in that store. Now I AM gonna go in there and give him a piece of my mind."
Chuck laughed. "Please don't. Not that I don't think you'd win him over, because I'm sure you would. Especially if you brought some of those chocolates. You might get a full-on proposal."
"Uh, no thanks. Nevermind."
He laughed harder. "He doesn't mean any harm, not to me. I'm still getting paid for my shift. I think it's just that he felt the need to shoot the messenger, so to speak. I'm okay with it. It hurt a little, I won't lie." She pouted and squeezed his arm as he smiled good-naturedly. "But now I get to see how things are coming with this shop of yours and I get a whole weekend away from this place." He held up his Tupperware. "And I get to eat my leftovers in an actual kitchen instead of a break room with people mouth-breathing near my food."
Sarah laughed, bumping his side with hers and holding his arm in both hands. "I'm sorry to inform you, what you're about to see is not an actual kitchen anymore. It's…Well, I don't have any other way I can think to put this. It's a fucking mess."
"Bet it's better than the mouth-breathers."
She laughed again, then slid her hands down his arm to hold onto his hand in both of hers. It felt intimate and she sort of wished she hadn't done it because it made her chest hurt a little. She didn't really understand that sensation.
She let go of his hand and she felt his eyes on the side of her face as she looked ahead as if she didn't notice. "I'm so sorry about today, Chuck. About the computers. I'm sorry your boss shot you even though you were just the messenger. You didn't deserve that."
Half of his mouth tilted up and he shrugged. "Thank you. I'll survive. A little worried about the prospect of losing Big Mike as the store manager though, I won't lie."
"He a good boss?"
"Eh. 6 times out of 10, he's pretty good. 3 times out of 10, he's completely absent from what's even happening in his own store. And 1 time out of 10, he's like a big teddy bear dad figure to all of us. Or an uncle. I don't know." He shook himself a little. "I'm worried about him, obviously. Where's he gonna go? I swear, Big Mike's been a staple at the Burbank Buy More since I was a kid. Literally. That's how I ended up getting my first job there when I was 14." Sarah raised her eyebrow. "Uh, I mean 16."
"No you don't," she said, her jaw falling open. "He hired you when you were 14? Chuck, did you break the law and get yourself a job at 14?"
He shrugged and winced. "I was starting to grow a little faster than the other kids and I was already over 6 feet by the time I was 15. It was easy to fake it. And anyway, I fixed a lady's phone for her when the guy who'd been at the Nerd Herd desk couldn't do it one day. So he started paying me under the table 'cuz we were both kinda desperate. It was a mutual understanding. I wouldn't tell if he wouldn't. It worked out."
Sarah gaped at him. "Oh my God, that's fascinating. Shit, when I was 14…" She was working, too, wasn't she? Her smile died as she realized she was still helping her dad with his cons at that age. She didn't exactly get a normal teen hood either. "Well, I wasn't working at the Buy More."
"Nah, of course not. I bet you were the super popular girl at school, but the worst kind, because you were probably also super smart, super athletic, and super nice. So it wasn't even like anybody could hate you for being so popular. Did I hit the nail on the head?"
She snorted. "No, you did not."
"That's it?" He asked after a long pause of her not giving him any more detail. "That's all I get? I'm wrong, but you aren't correcting the record?"
"Nope!" she chirped, and he chuckled.
"Okay, fine fine. I won't push you."
And it just so happened that they arrived at her shop right then anyways. She pulled her keys out of her bag. "I don't go telling strange men about my teen years, sorry."
"Strange? I'm str—Okay, yeah, I'm pretty strange."
She cracked up, opening the door and stepping inside. "Watch your step."
"I won't step on asbestos, will I? I thought they got rid of that."
Groaning, she turned to give him a look. "That was terrible and I don't want to relive it, please."
"Sorry, sorry," he chuckled. "Just trying to lighten the mood that I singlehandedly made super heavy."
"You didn't," she said, shutting the door after him. "Like, shit, somebody conned your store out of a lot of money and now you're stuck with a bunch of crap that doesn't work. It's bullshit. I don't expect you to be ecstatic about it. Especially not after getting chewed out so thoroughly by your boss who may or may not get canned now."
"I fear the future."
She snorted. "I feel that."
"No, like. Really." She watched him lift his messenger bag up over his head and set it on the counter the way he had a few times before now. She liked it. She liked that he seemed comfortable here, in her shop. "If Big Mike's fired, whoever they hire to replace him could be any number of terrible things."
"Mean? A dictator?"
"Sure. But I mean—Well, for one, they could actually require us all to do the jobs we're paid to do."
She giggled. "Oh no. Say it ain't so."
"I know. That would be a real inconvenience. I wouldn't be able to sneak over here whenever I want to. I'd have to actually man the desk during my shift. Keep control of my nerds, take responsibility for their work rate and their behavior." He shivered, and then he smirked teasingly.
"Sounds awful," she teased back. "Who will help me do all this work? Me with my 0 friends. Nobody to lend a helping hand but the tall, curly-haired head nerd at the Buy More."
"Uh, 'scuse me. Supervisor of the Nerd Herd. Not head nerd. Thankyou."
"I stand corrected."
"And hey, I bet I could find you a few worker bees. Especially if the payment is chocolate. And your chocolate in particular," he said, following her into the back.
She sent him a look over her shoulder. "Oh?" Something occurred to her then. "Wait. I'm not letting those two guys anywhere near my shop."
He laughed hard. "If I can help it, they won't be left alone around you ever again."
"Oh, really?" She flicked on the lights in the kitchen, wincing at how torn up it was from the contractors getting back to work. At least the part they were working on was covered in plastic which meant a little less clean-up for her. It was a little embarrassing Chuck was seeing her place like this. But he'd seen it with asbestos after all. This wasn't all that bad in comparison. "Protecting me, huh?"
"Yeah. I am." She turned and looked at him as he stood there, holding his plastic Tupperware with its green lid, his other hand shoved in the pocket where he'd put everything that had been in the pocket protector his boss had just mutilated. Chuck must've gotten the hint and he cleared his throat. "I probably don't seem like much of a protector at the moment. In fact, I probably seem a little lame."
Sarah shook her head vehemently and gave him a look. "Stop that. You aren't lame. And you don't look like any less of a protector than anyone else."
"But you don't need protection," he said quietly. The look he was giving her made her have to take deep breaths as subtly as she possibly could. "You've got all of this handled on your own," he said, and she detected a hint of pride in the way he said it, the look on his face. "You'd handle Jeff and Lester too." He shrugged. "I just don't think you should have to, so here I am." He held his hand out to one side, his lunch out to the other.
"Knight in shining Nerd Herd uniform," she said warmly, crossing her arms and leaning against the fridge.
"I dunno," he picked at his shirt and looked down at it. "It's usually shinier than this. Today's been sort of a mess and the sheen is a bit dim for my tastes."
She got his meaning and her smile dimmed a little. This guy had a rotten day and he was here trying to keep her company, being cheerful as ever, self-deprecating as ever, when she could see the hint of embarrassment that she'd witnessed him in a low spot. She could feel it emanating off of him.
And his boss seemed to be important to him, especially if he'd known him since he was a kid, and he gave him his first job at the Buy More, the pact they'd formed. Sure, to break the law, but Sarah wasn't about to judge this guy for doing honest work even if it was against the law because she'd done entirely dishonest work that was against the law, hadn't she? Even when she'd known better.
Chuck was embarrassed, worried about his boss because he had a big heart, and she imagined he'd also been hurt when said boss had gone after him when this mess hadn't even been his fault. Sarah was careful not to think about whose fault it could be. That Harry Tang person Chuck seemed to hate so much, and then whoever the conman had been. Whoever.
Sarah made a decision standing there, looking at her knight in shining Nerd Herd uniform, and she decided she could try to be his knight in shining sun dress finally. For a change. She closed the distance and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a tight hug.
He immediately hugged her back, as much as he could with Tupperware in one hand. "W-What's this for? Not that I'm complaining," he muttered against her hair.
This was for him, but she still couldn't help noticing how good it felt to embrace him like this, to be embraced. She held on, tightening her hug, squeezing him.
"You've had a really bad day and I thought you could use a hug," she explained. She thought she felt him smiling against her hair.
"Oh. Well, I'm…grateful. It's definitely not hurting, I'll say that." He squeezed her this time. It felt so amazing.
She held on for a little while longer, her hands slowly rubbing his upper back, his shoulders, wondering how this seemed to come so naturally all of a sudden, comforting another person, when it had never come naturally for her before.
The only time she'd ever been good with people was when she was pretending for her various jobs. She didn't handle situations like this with grace, she didn't say the right things. She fumbled the ball. She was awkward, ungainly.
But seeing Chuck in trouble had her naturally gravitating to him, grabbing hold of him and not letting go until she felt some of the tension leaving his shoulders under her hands.
Only then did she pull back, just a little, to look up into his face. And then she smiled a little. "What do you need to be able to warm up whatever's in this Tupperware?"
"Oh." He shook himself out of what might've been a bit of a daze as he looked at her, and it was incredibly sweet. Then he pulled his hand back with his lunch. "Right. Yeah. This. I didn't think about that. A microwave?"
"I have one of those in here."
"Oh, that's…great."
Giggling, she finally stepped away from him and went to the microwave, popping it open. "It's all yours," she said, gesturing to it in a way that would make Vanna White proud.
Chuck giggled back and followed her, popping the lid off a little bit, then reaching around her to put his lunch inside. She told him how to program it, and then they stood there together, waiting.
"You have something to eat?" Chuck asked. "I mean, did you already eat your lunch?"
She nodded. "A while ago."
"Oh, you mean like…at lunchtime?"
Giggling, she nodded. "Yep."
He shrugged lamely.
Within minutes, he had her convinced to sit next to him at the bar in the front of the shop with an extra plastic fork he stole from the salad bar next door, piercing a bit of the food he'd just warmed up.
"Careful, it'll be boiling lava levels of hot, watch. Warming up Ellie's enchilada casserole is always a toss-up. It's either going to destroy my mouth it's so hot, or it'll still be ice cold. No in-between."
She giggled and blew on the steaming piece of casserole. "You sure about this? This is your lunch, after all."
"There's plenty. Have some."
Giving him a dubious look, she put it in her mouth. The flavors assailed her in a way she didn't expect and she let out a loud, "Mmmmm! Your sister made this?" as she chewed. "Oh my God."
"Right?"
"She's so good at cooking."
"That's one major perk of being a big enough loser that I have to live with my sister and her boyfriend. I get some extremely delicious and healthy meals out of it."
She pointed at him with her fork, a hard look in her face. "Stop calling yourself a loser. And stop saying you're lame. Enough. I'm going to start smacking you every time you do it."
"You gonna get one of those spray bottles people use on their cats?" He made like he was spraying her and went "tsst tsst!", making her laugh.
"Yes! If that's what it takes!"
She was careful not to eat much of his lunch as they shared, wanting him to get enough food, even if it was insanely delicious. And she felt their knees pressing together under the bar, neither of them moving or shifting, and she wondered if he'd even noticed. She absolutely had. And she kept her legs just as they were.
"I'm just really curious how a person comes to realize chocolate is their thing, you know? Like, specifically making chocolate. It's such a cool, kinda niche thing."
She shrugged. "I guess I was just good at it once I made my way into the baking world. If anything had to do with chocolate, everyone stepped aside and let me take the lead on it." She shook her head then, watching him finish the food and push the Tupperware to the side. "But I…Well, I dunno. You don't wanna hear all this," she said, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear.
"Yeah, I do. I asked, didn't I?" He smiled.
"You did," she drawled, eyeing him closely. She smiled back at him then and nodded once. "I never had much freedom with what I could do in the kitchen. You know, working in a patisserie as famous as the one I was in, everything is extremely strict, every measurement, every dash of cinnamon, every moment must be precise and perfect. I'm scared I've gotten that baked into me, no pun intended." He snickered and she felt a little proud of herself for it. "The perfectionism, I mean. It…I don't know, the thought of having this place and getting to experiment and get a little messy and maybe sometimes…go down the wrong path on a concoction… God, it just appeals to me so much after being in such a strict kitchen." She held up a hand then. "That's not to say Rambeau's strictness wasn't the reason why people came back over and over and over again. The consistency of flavors and methods, knowing their favorite muffin or croissant would be there every single time they went back and needed that particular comfort… It's why that place is a staple in that part of the country. I'll admit that."
"But it just wasn't for you?"
Having her boyfriend cheat on her with the owner while they baked in the same kitchen wasn't for her.
"I guess not." She cleared her throat, purposely pressing her knee into Chuck's even more. Maybe she needed comfort and he was the most comforting thing in her life at that moment. She didn't know. She just liked how he felt.
"I'd like to help you make this place into what you want it to be. What you need it to be. A place where you can get messy and experiment and have fun with your chocolatier brain—did I say it right that time, or did I fuck it up?"
Sarah laughed, her head falling back. "Oh, Chuck, you tried. Getting warmer, though. I appreciate the effort."
He gave her a faux glare. "Point being, what I've tasted so far has been heaven. In my mouth." She laughed and he chuckled self-deprecatingly. "You can do this. I've seen you so far, and I just…know you can do this."
She felt her insides melting as he looked her right in her eyes. "Maybe. I aim to try," she said quietly. "And I've at least got some support." She laid her hand on his on the bar.
"As much as I can muster up."
Sarah watched him closely, smiling at him, her heart thudding hard against her ribcage. "Can I show you something?"
"Hell yes. The last time you said that, I got to try some seriously bomb chocolate."
Laughing, she hopped down from her stool and tugged him along with her back into the kitchen. "I'm really kind of limited as to what I can do in this kitchen right now. But I did finally bring my Melanger."
"Your what?"
"Melanger," she giggled, showing him the most important tool in her whole enterprise. "It mixes and heats the ingredients to the right temperature for crystals to be infused into the cocoa."
"Crystals? Oh, like sugar."
"Mmhm."
"Do I get to see this thing work?"
"Maybe," she said with a flirtatious shrug. "You have to graduate up to using a Melanger. Sorry, Chuck. You're not there yet."
"Whoa, well okay. Heavy machinery." He held his hands up with a chuckle. "I look forward to earning my place at the Melanger."
She smiled at him and tilted her head. "So do I."
So do I. Wink wink. Please review. I appreciate it.
SarahsSupplyCloset