Chapter Nine - Kitchen Disaster - Sunday . Christian's Bedroom
The sky is light in the East when I go back to bed. Dawn comes early up here on the thirtieth floor. Finally my brain is blank and my eyes are closed before my head hits the pillow.
A loud noise wakes me. WHAT was that? I leap out of bed. Rushing out of my bedroom, I find Brandy in the kitchen standing over a dropped ring type coffee cake pan.
She's not moving. She's in shock, I think. It must be bad. Is she hurt?
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Master!" she cries out.
She's near hysterical… in no fit condition to decide anything. As her Dom, I must exert my authority and take control.
"Stop! Stop it! Stand still!" I command as I come around the counter island.
"Are you hurt?" I demand.
She looks befuddled as if she doesn't know. And she doesn't answer.
Okay. I'm in charge.
"Step back." I have to physically pull her back away from the mess on the floor. I turn her around.
"Hold out your hands."
She reluctantly does so as if she's going to be punished like the nuns would rap my knuckles with a ruler. Well, I deserved it. She does not.
I take her hands, pull them towards me, check her for injuries and turn them over. There's a small reddening burn mark inside her forearm… nothing serious.
Looking down, she's barefoot. Something has gotten onto her thin slip dress. I kneel at her feet, lIft each foot in turn, then use my hands to follow each leg. Luckily I don't find any injuries there either.
Okay, good. It's just things. Property. I can easily replace things. I grab a dish towel… thank you, Mrs. Jones… and pick up the … still warm… large donut shaped coffee cake pan. The hot topping is spread on the floor but the pan landed right side up. What are the odds? I remember Grace teaching Mia to cook. This is salvageable. Elliot and I ate lots of salvaged 'experimental cooking'. We wasted nothing.
"Brandy, get the dust pan and brush from the corner cupboard." As I point to the cupboard, I shove the soiled pot holders in the trash bin, under the sink.
She's kneeling sweeping the spillage into the dust pan. In the next second, I realize she's stopped moving.
Looking down, Brandy is on her knees, head bowed, hands flat on her thighs… with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I've failed, Master, I only wanted to please you." She's struggling… and failing to stifle… her sobs. She had really put her heart into this.
Shit… What do I do now?
"Stand up." I say gently…
I appreciate what she was trying to do. I have to cut myself off before I blurt out that she wasn't hurt. Sure, she wasn't hurt physically… that I might hug her pops into my mind. No, I can't do that. Why do I feel bad that I can't? The searing emotional pain of neglect hurts as much as the physical pain when the scars were burned into my flesh.
"Look, there's no blood…" I try to lighten the mood… "It's only things, only property… property that can be replaced… and it landed right side up! How lucky is that! It's not ruined. When my sister was learning to cook, my mother salvaged lots of experimental cooking. My brother and I ate it all."
I continue, "It was an accident. That's all. I'm not angry. I understand how disappointed you must be."
Her eye liner has run badly. "Let's go wash you up."
As I pick her up in my arms and carry her into my bathroom, I whisper "You do please me." softly into her ear as I set her on the stool at the sink.
I find some wipes in the vanity and set about cleaning her face. I'm making progress… she looks up into my eyes and says softly, "Thankyou, Sir." I think she's back.
"Where did it come from?" I ask gently.
"It was a suggestion on the list your chef left… it was a mix."
"Good… that's fine." I hand her a face cloth and towel to continue washing up.
"I need to make a call." I say and step out into my bedroom and find my phone. I call Mrs. Jones. She answers on the second ring.
"Mr. Grey."
"Mrs. Jones. I apologize for interrupting your time off."
"I don't mind at all, sir. Please, don't hesitate to call, anytime you need me."
"My lady friend tried making the coffee cake you suggested."
"Oh, yes." I hear the flash of recognition in her voice. "I prefer to bake from scratch but I like to keep a mix handy for short notice."
"Well, she dropped the pan. It landed right side up. The cake itself is intact. Just the topping is spilled all over the floor. My friend is upset. How can we fix this?"
"No problem at all, sir. Can I speak with her?"
I'm a little taken aback… "Yes. Certainly. Be gentle."
"I understand, sir."
I bring my phone into the bathroom. "Mrs. Jones? This is Brandy." I hand Brandy my phone.
"Yes, Ma'am." … "No, I'm not injured. Thank you." … "I dropped the hot pan… the topping went all over the floor."… "It was just the shock of it."… "How can I possibly fix it?" Brandy sounds like she's about to lose it again.… "We're in Mr. Grey's bathroom now."
"Please… Excuse me, sir." She says to me… and walks to the kitchen. I follow behind. Brandy sets my phone on the counter… on speaker now… and is opening cupboards and getting out ingredients. I see flour, butter, brown sugar, cinnamon.
"Yes, Ma'am, I have everything…"
"Every cook has had a failure now and then. It's nothing to fret about. Now, take your clean mixing bowl…" I step away. Mrs. Jones has things under control. I should tip her for services above and beyond.
I retreat to my bedroom… I'm up now. I might as well get dressed. Jeans and a polo shirt will do. With bare feet I pad to my office and busy myself in the nitty-gritty of running my empire.
There's knock at my open door… I look up to see Brandy standing there holding a tray with a coffee mug, cream & sugar. She has one of Mrs. Jones off white linen aprons on over her dress.
"Your coffee, sir."
"Thankyou."
She enters and puts the tray carefully to the side on my desk.
"Breakfast is nearly ready."
About ten minutes later, I wander into the kitchen and sit at the breakfast bar. Seeing me, Brandy sets my warmed plate on my place mat. Bacon… I guess I'd call it Texas Italian French toast… made with Italian bread we didn't use last night… and the coffee cake.
"More coffee, sir?" I nod and she refills my cup.
"Juice? Orange Juice or Cranberry?"
"OJ, please." She pours me a glass of juice. I notice she has selected cranberry for herself. Still wearing the apron, she comes around the counter to sit next to me. I nod for her to sit.
This is good… from a disaster rescue to a fine meal…
"This is excellent. Everything is excellent" I say taking another bite of the coffee cake.
"Thank you, sir." She pauses. "Mrs. Jones coached me through everything. She was very kind."
"She's a new hire; she's only just started…"
"How can I thank her?"
"Don't worry. I'll thank her."
"Can I leave her a note?"
Hmmm. I don't want Mrs. Jones to be involved with my submissives. She knows nothing of the lifestyle.
"You can leave her a note." I relent.
"I'd like to, sir. I think it's the right thing to do."
I nod, granting permission but really I want to roll my eyes.