Chapter Nine: "A Saffron for Sore Eyes" Burger:
"One minute you're rubbing elbows in a yacht club with Cynthia and drinking champagne, next your catering a stupid party for her. Who's side are you on?" Louise asked her mother incredulously as she sat at the first booth wiping down menus.
"Stop being dramatic. It's good money," Bob said. He stood in the kitchen, talking to his daughter directly through the service window.
"Tellin' Hot Rod ta not be dramatic? That's funny, Bob," Zeke chuckled from behind the grill.
"It's not for Cynthia, it's for Logan. Cynthia recommended us. Which seems a little too nice for her, but I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth." Linda started off strong and ended in a frustrated mumble. So much for her and Cynthia breaking ground on Friendship Palace.
Louise was beginning to see visible proof that Linda and Cynthia weren't as civil as what they portrayed. She would have been much happier about it, if it weren't at her mother's own expense.
"Because that makes this so much better?" Louise asked.
"The company already paid us a deposit. A real deposit. You can skip out on this when you bring me your own deposit," Bob said.
"I have prep to do for the truck," Louise said.
"We'll get everything ready right before we get there, we'll bring extra coolers. You can drop us off on your way back. We'll just take the food truck. I mean, if it doesn't break down on the way there."
"You're really not making it easy for me to find a way out of this, Dad." Louise said. "Did you guys even think about who's gonna be here to feed Teddy?"
"We'll leave a bag on the doorstep for him," Bob chuckled.
"Zeke?" Louise asked, trying to form a quick alliance.
"We're doin' a huge New Year's Eve Party at the Club, girl. I wouldn't be able ta take the night off from it if I wanted ta," Zeke said
"Exactly, it's New Year's Eve. Do you know how much money I could pull tonight? Especially if I'm at the Wharf when they do the fireworks?" Louise asked.
"I wouldn't ask you if I didn't have to. I know you hate Logan." Bob pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll give you New Year's and the day after off work. With pay."
Bob had resorted to bribing. A tactic he hadn't used in years. This was important to her father, Louise realized. It was high profile. It could be a good thing for the restaurant. If it made her father happy, she'd do it.
She sighed, "Fine, but you're paying for gas in the truck."
"I can live with that," Bob said.
On New Year's Eve the Belchers cleaned and closed down the restaurant early, loaded the catering equipment into 2.0, and drove off to the Wharf Arts Center.
They got there early and Bob set up his portable grill. Linda set up tin trays and place cards for the fry buffet and Louise had the standing chalk board propped up a few tables away from her parents, carefully printing a custom menu of burgers and sliders: "Sparks Will Fry Burger." "New Years' Rennet-Lusion Burger." "Swiss Me When the Ball Drops Burger"
There were a few party planners making last minute touch ups. People with headsets and clipboards, fluttering around the room like a stage crew in a play. In the center of all the commotion, was an older man in a white suit with an eye patch. A tall blonde man in an expertly tailored suit stood next to the older man. They were engaged deeply in conversation. The blonde was holding a clipboard. Louise smirked to herself and added a last minute change on the bottom of the menu.
Louise was about to set the chalkboard down when she heard footsteps and that voice that made her want to stick a butter knife in a toaster, "Can't stay away from me, can you?"
"I thought these were the hills. I was running for them." Knowing her parents were out of earshot, Louise felt little obligation to be civil.
"You're gonna be running for a while then," Logan appraised her. He'd noticed the immediate lack of tall pink Ears tucked away somewhere on her person. Maybe she was trying to look professional, maybe the catering uniform just didn't have pockets. He felt a little embarrassed speculating on it.
Louise reached behind her back and tightened the strings of her apron, then she looked up at Logan, "So this was your big revenge plan? Personally, I think you could have done better, but I just got here and I'm already having a horrible time, if that's any consolation."
"It helps a little. But it's not a revenge plan. Life's just funny like that sometimes. I knew about this catering thing the other night when you selflessly came to apologize to me. I just wanted to see the look on your face when you had to be here." Logan said, clipboard still in hand.
"Poor Big Bushed bastard wanted to spend the whole company party with his tail tucked between his legs? You scared?"
"Shut it, Smellcher. This party is a big deal for me. Huge, actually. Promotion huge." As an afterthought he added, "Stop calling me 'Big Bush.' "
"I wouldn't say you're a big deal. Average really. Don't give yourself that much credit," Louise snorted.
"Shame you'll never get to find out for yourself," Logan smirked. Louise grimaced. "C'mon, Smellcher, could you at least try to look like you're happy to be here?"
"I'm honored. I'm so, so honored that you would take the trouble to hire me and my family. After all, the food is cold and undercooked. You're really taking a risk with foodborne pathogens," she cracked a large, fake smile to accommodate his request.
"Louise."
"If this party is such a big deal, why did you hire a burger dive to cater?"
"I didn't hire, I suggested. I pitched ideas. Fancy, stuffy dinners are out. Innovative is in. It grabs people's attention. Different is daring. This project is going to be both," Logan sounded as if he was reciting something from a presentation.
"So your mommy thinks Bob's Burgers is 'innovative and daring?' " Louise threw up air quotes. "Stop trying to give me your stupid fucking sales pitch."
"Bob's Burgers is unique and memorable. It's family run. People eat that sentimental shit up."
"Undercooked is pretty memorable," Louise sniped.
"You got a non-consensual striptease out of me. Then you took pictures and threatened to ruin my life. That's also memorable. Do you think you can control yourself and not ruin tonight for me?"
"It's so cute that you think I care enough about you to ruin this for you, Big Bush."
"You're unbelievable," Logan huffed. He turned to walk away. So much for forgiveness.
"I'm not going to ruin this for you," Louise mumbled. Logan turned back around. "But it's not because of you. It's because this is important to my parents."
"Good enough," Logan said, annoyance coloring his tone.
"Oh, and Big Bush, this one is especially for you," Louise said as she pointed to the last burger on the menu. She set the chalkboard down. Logan read it. "A Saffron for Sore Eyes Burger."
Logan gave Louise an impish grin, "You know, you look different in an apron. Not horrible. It's kinda cute." He spun around on his heels and threw himself back into the action of coordinating.
That impish grin made her want to slap him. It was annoying and cocky and made her feel butterflies. Who did he think he was?
"What was that about?" Bob asked as Louise joined her parents at the catering station.
"I had to put him in his place," Louise said casually. She started arranging plates and utensils to the left of the grill.
"That's not what it looked like to me, Miss Missy," Linda said.
"Did you see Fischoeder over there?" Louise asked, changing the subject.
"Is that Mr. Fischoeder? It is!" Linda exclaimed. She motioned to him.
"Lin, stop it. I don't want him to come over here," Bob said.
"Too late," Louise whispered to her father as Calvin Fischoeder approached the catering station.
He was quickly ushered away by a party planner before he could come close enough to initiate conversation. Mr. Fischoeder was placed at a table toward the front of the room, next to a podium. Guests began to filter in and the sounds of dull chatter filled the event room.
Louise stuck close to her parents. Bob working the grill, Louise plating, and Linda manning the fry bar with a smile. The tipsy stuffed shirts thought Linda was "a hoot." Some of the tipsy stuffed shirts praised the witty menu.
Linda's popularity and enthusiasm made Bob relax slightly. If Louise didn't know any better, she'd swear her parents actually enjoyed themselves.
Throughout the night, party guests were coming back for seconds and thirds. Louise slipped them flyers and business cards she'd kept on the table. It was a last minute touch she'd considered as she ran out to the food truck and grabbed a large stack from the glove compartment.
Louise had been focused on her job at the catering station for most of the party, but she found herself occasionally sneaking a glimpse at the stupid blonde. He was networking and mingling, clipboard never leaving his hand. Louise could see how calculated and professional he was in every movement he made. He was like a different person. She was almost impressed with him.
Logan was working fast. He was on his feet for the most of the party. It felt like minutes had passed, instead of hours, by the time he was up at the podium introducing Mr. Calvin Fischoeder as the guest speaker for the company's biggest party of the quarter.
When Logan stepped to the side of the podium, he caught Louise Belcher staring at him. Judging him. Appraising him. A tingle ran up his spine. He hated that he wanted the pint-sized spitfire to notice him. He hated that he wanted to impress her. He hated that she wasn't giving him just a little bit of trouble tonight, either. Not that he would have had the time to engage. He hated that he just wanted to go up to her and talk to her and laugh at her sarcastic comebacks. He knew that he actually didn't hate any of these things, and that scared him a little bit.
For now, though, Logan had more important things to worry about. He listened to Calvin Fischoder's speech on the positives of representing interests in Seymour's Bay as well as Bog Harbor. How much money and tourist revenue they could generate by taking on Wonder Wharf and the Wharf Arts Center as strategic research assets. Assets for improvement. Calvin Fischoder was "beseeching them to turn this old town into a gold town." It was a sales pitch to people who did sales pitches for a living and he was laying it on thick.
Calvin Fischoeder had already put on his white cape, a signal he was trying to head out the door, when a bunch of tipsy stuffed shirts surrounded him, asking questions. They were being turned away by Logan and other corporate cogs, who were reassuring them there would be plenty of time for discussions at future meetings. Free flowing booze and champagne had made the stuffed shirts friendly, but Calvin Fischoeder was still the same fickle and opposing figure.
Louise laughed to herself at Logan's slight misfortune of being mobbed. She quickly helped her parents pack up their equipment. Louise would have gotten out of the Wharf Arts Center even faster, if she'd thought it was physically possible.
She helped her parents unload their equipment at warp speed upon arrival to the restaurant, but she didn't stick around to carry anything back to the basement. Linda gave her daughter an earful as she sped down the block to park at the entrance of Wonder Wharf.
"She's literally right there. Look, Bobby, you can see her in the truck. Right there. Can't help her parents put some stuff away. Just speeds right off in that rickety box," Linda said.
It was after eleven when Louise parked in front of the entrance to Wonder Wharf. The crowd was thinner than anticipated. Louise didn't take this as a good sign when she pulled things out of coolers and scrawled a "Burger of the Day" on the board.
Louise was beginning to regret bringing 2.0 out at all. Soon the fireworks would be shooting off. Then people would be going home or shuffling off to their next party. Some nights were just busts.
"Still running for the hills?"
"Well, fuck, if I knew the vermin were gonna be out, I would have taken the night off."
"Can I get a 'Burger of the Day?' "Logan asked, wrinkling his nose at Louise's distasteful comment. He made a mental note to himself about the reappearance of the Ears perched on her head in the cold night.
"Say it."
"Can I get 'Balls Just Dropped Burger?' "Logan asked loudly. He dug for his wallet, pulling it out of his jacket pocket. He was still wearing his suit from the corporate party.
"You may," Louise snatched the cash out of his hand. "I'm going to let it sit for awhile though. You look like you enjoy a cold burger."
"You look like you enjoy holding a grudge."
"You gonna get outta my sight when you get your burger? You know, follow the 'go our separate ways' clause of this truce."
"And make your night better? Not a chance, Smellcher."
"Why are you here?" Louise shouted out to him from the grill.
"To watch the fireworks. Just like everyone else."
"So, you're not just here to annoy me?"
"No, but it doesn't hurt," Logan shouted back.
"I kept the peace at your stupid work party, you could return the favor."
"I'm not here to ruin your night. I wanted to say 'Thanks'," Logan said, voice still raised.
Louise popped her head back through the window, "I don't think I heard that right. Did you say what I thought you said?"
Logan sighed, "You heard right."
"Well, well, well."
"Yeah, that's what my burger's gonna be, if you don't get back to the grill."
"He's got jokes," Louise threw at him as she disappeared back into the food truck.
Logan waited, standing on the sidewalk with his arms crossed. Louise stuck her head out of the service window again, but kept the to-go box out of reach.
"You gonna give me my food?"
"You have to say it again."
"Thanks?"
"No, you tool, the 'Burger of the Day.' "
"You're evil."
"Thank you."
"Can I have my burger?"
"Sorry, that's a no. Until you comply."
Logan came up to the front of the food truck, stood on the balls of his feet, and looked in through the service window. " 'Balls Just Dropped,' " he said in a deliberately sultry tone.
Louise set the to-go box on the ledge of the service window, just out of Logan's reach.
"What's the view like from there?" Logan asked, eyes still poking around as he stretched up from the sidewalk.
"You think I'm going to let you in the truck?"
"Sure?"
"No way, Big Bush," Louise pushed the to-go box slightly closer to him.
"I bet you would make a lot more money if you took this thing out during the day."
"Don't tell me how to run my business. 2.0 is a Lady of the Night."
"Is that what you call her? Lady of the Night?"
"No."
"Smartass," Logan said as he grabbed the to-go box, lowering himself from the service window. He remained standing next to the truck. Louise was standing at the window, looking directly down at him.
"I sleep until afternoon, I wake up, I do school work and make stupid pies, and then I work at the restaurant all day until I can take my stupid food truck out."
"That sounds like a lot of work. But I know this guy, he's in marketing, and he's really good with strategy and business models. He might be able to make some recommendations if you're so damn insistent on keeping the same schedule," Logan pitched casually. He'd torn into his burger quickly, eating voraciously. He'd hadn't had time at the party to stop and grab a plate from the catering station.
Louise disappeared from the window and opened the back door of the truck, "You can come in, asshole."
Logan stuffed the last bite of burger in his mouth, threw the box in a trashcan, and climbed into the back of the truck.
"That's attractive," Louise said sardonically staring at Logan's puffed up cheeks as he chewed. He opened his mouth to show her the chewed up contents of the burger before he swallowed. Louise flashed him a disgusted look.
"What's with the sudden change of heart?" Logan asked.
"You said something that piqued my interest. Plus, it looks like you're my only customer tonight."
"Marketing strategy? That's what gets you hot and bothered?"
"When I finish my degree, I want to open some new locations. I'm gonna retire the food truck, maybe, and I'm gonna open a slop shop and call it 'Belcher's Burgers' or 'Belcher's Burgers and Beer' or something less stupid."
"Well I can't just spout it out what works best. We'd need to sit down and talk about demographics and competition. Plus advertising. Then I'd probably prepare a whole presentation. That's just to start off."
"I'm not trying to hire you. I just wanted some quick advice."
"I saw your little flyer thingies at the party. It was smart. What if I offered some help? For free. No hiring required."
"What's the catch, Big Bush?"
"You're serious about it. I can see it in your face. I can respect that. So my catch is that I want free burgers."
"I could make that arrangement."
"Okay. You got yourself a deal, Smellcher."
"Just like that?" Louise scoffed.
"Just like that," Logan echoed.
"So that's why everyone you work with has such a huge boner for you, you just give it away for free?"
"Maybe if you'd paid attention to the speech instead of staring at me the whole time, you'd know why they all love me and why that party was such a big deal."
"I was only staring because I was wondering where your paper bag was. The one that belongs over your face."
"Calvin Fischoeder wants the firm to do tourism marketing and research for Wonder Wharf and some other minor properties he has in Seymour's Bay. That's why this stupid party was all the way out here. Special for the guest of honor, who couldn't be bothered to schlep it down to Bog Harbor. Fischoeder thinks he's playing the long game."
"That wasn't what I asked."
"Everyone has a huge boner for me because I'm great," Logan espoused dramatically. A grin formed on Louise's face a little too quick for her to hide. "Also, I'm really fucking good at my job," he shrugged.
"Don't choke on your own dick while you're sucking yourself off," Louise sniped.
"You're more than welcome to take over that job for me," Logan said in a pseudo-saccharine tone.
"I can't. Taking someone's virginity seems like too much of a burden to carry."
"I'm only a virgin on religious holidays," Logan chuckled. "And that's not how that works."
Louise shrugged and walked over to the coffee maker to pour herself a cup with a disgusting amount of sugar. Despite the hostile words they threw at each other, this was the lightest Louise had felt all night. She didn't get to be around people that enjoyed her brand of humor often, but Logan was keeping up.
Logan looked around, surveying the inside of 2.0.
"Stop staring her down with your filthy eyes, you pervert."
"It looks like it should be bigger, judging on the outside," Logan said.
"I could say the same about you and your lack of brains."
Logan didn't respond, he was too busy staring at her laptop, covered in stickers. Kuchi Kopi stickers, Pi stickers, and Boyz 4 Now stickers. "Is that what I think it is?"
"Don't."
"Louise Belcher is a Boyz 4 Now fan? Oh, I wish I'd known about this years ago. So much ammunition."
"Shut your whore mouth."
"You seem like a Griffin fan. No! A Boo Boo fan."
"Boo Boo is a disgusting, beautiful angel and you will keep your mouth shut."
"Confidentially, I can get down to some Tabitha Johanssan."
"Oh, that's even worse than Boyz 4 Now. Why would you admit that?"
"Show of solidarity?"
"There's no solidarity here, Loganberry, just your own personal humiliation," Louise's statement was punctuated by a loud pop and a flash of bright colors across the Wharf. She grabbed her Styrofoam cup and opened the back door to the truck. "You coming, Big Bush?"
Logan followed Louise out of the truck, through Wonder Wharf, and to the pier. Shoving and pushing the whole time through the crowd. Logan caught up with Louise at the end of the pier. They stood together as they watched the fireworks go off.
Logan asked, after some hesitation, "Can I put my ar-"
"Yeah, yeah. Now shut up. Your talking is gonna ruin my coffee."
Logan rolled his eyes and put his arm around Louise. Neither of them said another word as they watched the fireworks in the sky and reflecting off the bay. Logan ignored the warm feelings in this chest, the way his mouth felt dry, the urge to plant a kiss on her that flashed away as briefly as it came. Logan was a grown man, he didn't get nervous around women anymore. Especially not devious pants-ers.
When the fireworks were over and the crowd had begun to fade, Logan and Louise continued to stand there for a little while longer.
"Is this me getting my turn at a second chance?" he asked.
"The more you talk about this 'truce,' the more I want to say 'no.' "
"I thought I was doing so well, too."
"Yeah, you're okay. Not when you're trying too hard to be nice, like that night before Thanksgiving. You were so full of it," she began to pick at the rim of her now empty Styrofoam cup.
"Says you," he scoffed. Logan felt his hopes pop and fizzle out, like the firework show. That was it? She still thought of him as the childhood bully. The semi-reformed jerk. Did she think he was fake, too? Was she always going to think of him that way? His shoulders hunched up around his neck.
Louise remembered where she was. Who she was with. She broke away slowly. Logan followed her through Wonder Wharf, past the concession stands and rides in the dim light of the lamp posts and booth lights along the wharf. He followed her back to the truck and stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. What was he supposed to do? Walk her home? Say "Goodnight?"
"Why are you standing there like an idiot?" she asked.
Logan opened his mouth, a sarcastic response already locked and loaded.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Louise shouted.
"What?"
"Fuck!" Louise repeated, pulling the handle to the passenger door of 2.0. Louise walked to the back door of the food truck and pulled on the handle. She pulled again and the door didn't give.
A smirk formed on Logan's face, "You locked yourself out, didn't you?"
"It's not funny," she ignored the way his smirk made her heart drop into her stomach and then flutter back up again.
"It's a little funny."
"My backup lock picking kit is inside the stupid truck."
"You have a lock picking kit?"
"Kits," Louise drew out the "s."
"Can you give me a boost? See if I can open it from the inside." Louise asked, pointing to the service window of the food truck.
"If you can get inside, why would you need the lock picking kit?"
"I meant the kit wasn't on me, dumbass."
"You're tiny and all, but I don't think you're gonna fit."
"Shut it and help me up."
"Fine," Logan conceded, he bent down for Louise to climb onto his back. He piggy-backed Louise over to the window, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach, and she put her fingers on the ledge of the service window, hoisting herself up. She got her head and shoulders through the window before she realized it was a failed endeavor.
She shimmied out of the window and slowly tried to climb back down, kicking Logan in the face in the process. Louise dropped back down onto the pavement, landing on her ass. She stood up and saw Logan holding his nose.
"I guess you are right," she said. "This is a little funny."
"Is my nose bleeding?" Logan asked, taking his hand away from his face and turning his head upward.
"No. Now stop being a baby. I just fell six feet onto my ass and you don't see me whining."
"It was like a foot. You were dangling."
"Shut up and follow me," Louise said, walking toward Ocean Avenue.
"Where?" Logan winced from the dull pain in his nose.
"To the restaurant, stupid. My spare keys are in the apartment. The truck door has a double lock."
"Lock picking kits and breaking into your own apartment? You're nuts."
"But you're coming with me, aren't you?"
"Yeah. I mean, it's cold out here. I can't just leave you stranded or whatever."
"Leave me stranded? That's rich."
"I'm doing you a favor. I'm really not dressed for this kind of shit right now," Logan said as he and Louise rounded the corner behind Bob's Burgers and walked into the alley.
"I'm gonna need another boost."
"Can't you just call your parents and have them let you in? Or bring you the keys?"
"What are you? New here?"
"It smells horrible back here, by the way."
"Duh, it's a Dumpster. Maybe some traces of moldy cantaloupe, too."
"I could toss you into the Dumpster and leave you here, Belcher." Logan grumbled. Louise shrugged off his empty threat.
He ducked down again and Louise climbed onto his back. He stood up and ungracefully pushed her onto the plastic cover of the Dumpster. Louise grabbed the rickety ladder and pulled it down as far as it would go. It met the top of the Dumpster cover and Louise climbed up until she was on the landing of the fire escape.
"Meet me out front," Louise loudly whispered to Logan. She opened the window and disappeared through it.
Logan walked around the building and waited a minute before Louise re-emerged through the front door of the apartment. They doubled back down Ocean Avenue toward the food truck.
"What's up with your window?"
"We leave it unlocked. Just in case."
"Yeah, that seems safe," Logan gibed.
"One time my Mom got herself lost and fucked up on her birthday. Locked herself out of the car and the house. Got skunked, too. She climbed up the fire escape and broke the window to get in. So we just keep it unlocked now."
"Your family is fucking nuts."
"Yes, you've mentioned that. I thought you'd be more shocked by the window thing."
"Nope. I think that's the most normal thing I've heard in the last twenty minutes," Logan said derisively
Louise unlocked the driver side door of 2.0, "Did you drive or do you need a ride?"
"I Uber-ed."
"So you need a ride?" Louise rolled her eyes.
"I guess," Logan said walking around the front and getting in on the passenger side.
Logan was quiet for most of the ride back to his house. "I, um, had a good time tonight," Logan volunteered, awkwardly.
Louise parked in front of the house Logan told her to stop at. "My night was horrible, just so you know," Louise said sarcastically. Logan smiled at that.
"So, should I call you or something?"
"It's a free country," Louise said looking over at him.
"Okay, I guess I'll call you, then," Logan said rubbing the back of his neck.
Logan got out of the food truck. He could hear the barking before he got to the door. He unlocked the door and picked up the little wiener dog that had eagerly been waiting for him. He took his phone out of his pocket. It was after one in the morning and he had a text message from Scotty and several voicemails from Cynthia.
He looked at his dog with a shit-eating grin, "Fuck, I'm in trouble."