I've decided to reupload this chapter with the extra two pages. Since I haven't been working on it for awhile and I didn't want to leave the end on a cliff hanger for too long, I've decided to repost. Sorry for the spam. I hope you'll enjoy.

Java Chip Frappe

Act Nine

What the heck? Since when did any man tell her what to do? She wasn't going to deal with this laying down! Not for one moment! Heather was a stronger woman than she appeared and no man was going to force her around like she was some kind of Barbie doll!

She was going to action without hesitation!

At least that's what she thought three hours ago. Three hours ago she swore to herself that she'd whirl back around on her heel and pound her fists against the door. Three hours ago there was no force on earth that would keep her from standing up to that strange man that had come in and pushed her out.

So why hadn't she acted on her thought? Damn if she knew why.

There wasn't a lot of time to think it over anyway; Pops was waiting up for her in one of the future garden grounds. The idea of making that overgrown kid waiting for too long was something Heather didn't want to keep ripe in her mind. Eh, either way he was a nice older gentleman, why be rude and come back later than expected?

Rye had told her sometime late the pervious night that Pops was the son of the man who owned the park. So it was a good idea if she didn't piss him off in anyway, as if that were possible, he seemed innocent enough. Out of anyone she had met at the park, he seemed the one she could get along best with. Perhaps this was a future friendship in the making?

It had been two and half long hours in the sun, digging, pulling weeds and preparing the ground in any and every way possible for the future rose bushes that would be planted there. It was a grueling two hours spent doing what felt like nothing. And to add more salt to her exposed wound, Pops was a specialist at watching her work. Of course he did small jobs, like handing her a garbage bag every so often but it wasn't looking like Pops was going to do half the work as she expected. Whatever, he was he owner's son after all.

Heather, while seated on her knees, reached down with gloved hands and began to pull one of the final weeds that littered the area. The dandelion was one of the larger weeds that she had left last to pull out; why she left the larger ones for herself she didn't know. Procrastination was one of her stronger suits.

As her pink-gloved fingers wrapped around the trunk of the weed, the sound of static caused her to flinch. She jerked her neck up straight and looked over her left shoulder. Pops pranced toward their golf cart and detached the radio from the controls. Placing the small black device to his lips he waited for a reply.

"Pops," A deeper voice came over the radio. "We're holding an emergency meeting at the snack bar. Get here as quick as you can."

"Oh!" Pops gasped to himself. "We'll be right there, Benson."

Benson, eh? So that was the guy who ran all the missions around this joint. It would be nice to finally meet him, seeing as she was now working with Rye. Maybe if she played the drama card a bit she would get some extra cash for herself? It was worth a shot, wasn't it?

Heather watched as Pops moved the silenced radio back to the cart's control desk. He then pulled back and looked to the female with a wide smile, obviously the term 'emergency meeting' didn't seem to bother him much. "Come along Hea, its about time you met Benson."

Her thoughts exactly.

She wasted no time pushing her body off the grassy ground. Moving her right hand over to her left, she slipped off the rubber gardening gloves and let them hit the floor, one after the other. She took a short moment to dust off her black pants before stepping toward the older gentleman.

Pops slid inside the right side of the golf cart, allowing her to control the stirring wheel once again. Heather didn't waste a second in asking why and instead took her assigned seat in the vehicle. Now that she knew her way to the snack bar, it shouldn't take long, right?

XoXoX

Emergency meeting was an understatement. She knew this just by driving up to the snack bar. The imagery of her sister with Mordecai and Rigby were just the beginning. Muscle Man, High-five Ghost and Skips stood outside the bar as well, all seeming very tense. Heather stepped on the brakes, allowing the vehicle to come to a stop. She put the cart into park and began to step out of the car.

Pops was second to pull his body out of the cart and took his 'seat' along side Heather in the group. She looked to her right to see the long line of park employees standing beside her; they all seemed to have seen a ghost. What was the problem?

Oh wait a frikkin' second. Oh no. The hotdogs.

This couldn't be about those stupid hotdogs, could it? Oh geez, no! That incident only happened the other day! There was no way the Big Cheese could have found out about the missing dogs this quick! Ugh.

"We're ALL in a lot of trouble!"

Mordecai's haunting words echoed in her ears. Oh boy, this was gonna be wonderful. She was going to get fired at a job she hadn't even been hired at yet!

The sound of the snack bar door creaking open caused Heather's back to shoot straight up. Sweat began to build on her brow and she began to chew on her bottom lip. Oh God, what she wouldn't give to just take one of the golf carts and bail. Was there anything worse than being a Bail Whale?

The door swung open with a single movement. She had to shut her eyes tight for a single moment, ugh she was gonna get it now. Why did she have to be so stupid and stubborn? Then again, it was for the best for her inner chef to hand out the good hotdogs, right? Gah! It was just too confusing! How could she be proud yet embarrassed all at the same time?

The sound of footsteps through the grass forced her to open her right eye. If she were going to face the big boss she would at least look him in the face. Starting from the floor, she saw a pair of two long metallic legs. Her eyes scanned his body until her eyes met his distracted gaze.

Wait, was this déjà vu? She had seen this guy before!

"Miss, you have to leave now."

This guy was Benson? This guy? No, no, no! This guy couldn't possibly be Benson! The guy, who had reached out, touched her shoulders and shoved her out of the kitchen? Oh great, not only was she in trouble for the hotdog incident, but now the trespassing episode too?

She watched as he tore his attention away from his clipboard, his eyes finally locking with hers. His eyes dilated without any hesitation and his arms jerked backward. His trusty clipboard fell from his fingers and his jaw dropped open.

"You!" He shouted. "What are YOU doing here?"

Heather felt the eyes of everyone in the group turn to face her. With so many looks glued to her, she felt a rush of heat grow on her cheeks. Then the instinct to fight or fly went into gear. If she wasn't going to turn tail and run from the situation she was going to fight it. Just like she had the day Rigby had criticized her food.

She felt her brow hang heavy over her eyes and a frown form on her lips. "What are YOU doing here?" Was the only comeback she could come up with on such short notice.

"I WORK HERE!"

Once again the attention was turned back to her. The red flush on her face deepened as the group waited for her response. What was she supposed to say? Now that she knew this guy was the boss of this place, was she supposed to act up in retaliation?

"I work here too!" Heather shot back, thrusting her right thumb into her chest.

Benson's brow twitched. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh Benson don't be mad." Pops was quick to jump to her defense. "Hea is Rye's younger sibling!"

"Hea?" Benson turned to the older male, voice more subdued by this point. "You're Heather?" He then jerked his head back into the baker's direction.

She gulped, trying her best to keep her 'tough girl' exterior fresh. "Yeah, so what about it?"

The boss cocked his brow in confusion. "The one from the Coffee Shop?"

"Yes!" Pops giggled in delight. "She's also the one who brought the coffee this morning."

Silence. Heather felt her tense shoulder begin to relax. The sweat that had begun to fall from her brow had grown cold on her skin and goosebumps began to develop on her arms. Everything seemed to come to a halt with Benson's silence. What was wrong with him? Why had he suddenly stopped his rant?

"It was my idea."

She flinched before jerking her head to the right. Rye had stepped out of her place in line and took a few steps forward. She extended her hand toward Benson while her soft features added a bonus to her plea deal.

"I asked her to come and help out," Rye began speaking once again. "Because I can't plant the honeysuckle. If there's any problem, don't take it out on her, take it up with me."

"I…" Benson opened his mouth to speak, only to find himself speechless.

"So I had every right to use the sink." Heather said as she felt a slick smirk spread over her cheeks.

The subdued look and aura around Benson flipped like a light switch. He tore his eyes away from Rye and turned back to her. This time with his fists clenched and frown larger. So he didn't like her challenge, did he? Ha! Served him right for pushing her out of he house when he did! Who was in charge now?

"It might have helped if you had explained yourself to me!" Benson snapped.

Heather forced her arms over her chest and shut her eyes. "I don't have to explain myself to anyone let alone you."

"If you're going to work here, that makes me your boss!"

Oh shoot, she hadn't thought of that.

Heather's eyes snapped open and her eyes met with his once again. By this time his entire body had begun to glow dull shade of red. As the moments passed, his complexion returned to normal and he cleared his throat.

"And that means you're going to listen to me," He continued. "Or you'll be fired."

Fine two could play at that game. Even if she wasn't going to say anything, that didn't mean she would be planning anything. If he was going to flaunt his place of authority in her face then she was going to fight back with every weapon she had at her disposal. No one was going to act as a superior to her!

"Wait, what is going on? What ABOUT the sink?"

Heather broke her staring contest with Benson and turned to see Muscle Man flaying his arms about in the air.

"Never mind." Benson shook his head from right to left.

"What were we called here for?" Skips spoke out next. "What's the emergency?"

"Before I get to that," Benson looked to Pops and addressed the older man with a calm voice. "Pops, go inside and call Mr. Maellard for me. Tell him that we have a second worker for the landscaping."

Pops was quick to nod his large head. "Right away!" Within the instant, he skipped toward his cart and pulled it out of its parked position.

The area stayed silent until the Pops and his cart had left sight. Once the older male had left the area, everyone's attention returned to the grumpy gumball machine. He released a lengthy sigh before crossing his arms over his chest. Was he angry or disappointed, it was hard to tell.

"So you're Heather." He said in a dull tone.

Didn't they just go over that? Heather felt the urge to roll her eyes and groan aloud. "Yes." She grunted, refusing the urge to snap or lash out again.

"You're the baker who's going to bake Pops' birthday cake?"

Wait. What, what, WHAT?

Her jaw nearly hit the floor in shock. What the HELL was this idiot talking about? Not to mention the fact that he acted as if she should already know of this information! Not only was she drafted into working on the landscaping now she was recruited to bake the birthday cake for the park owner's son?

"Wha-"

"Yes!" Mordecai threw his tall body in front of Heather, blocking her view from Benson.

"Yeah!" Rigby was second to jump out, along side his bestie.

Heather moved her body to the left, moving out of Mordecai's way. Her eyes met Benson's once more, only to see him with a single brow cocked in confusion. His puzzled look turned to a glare as he focused on the two boys in front of him. Was he suspicious of them?

Benson tore his narrowing eyes away from Mordecai and Rigby and looked to Heather once more. "I understand bake really good cakes."

Flattery? After being so rude! No way!

She squinted her eyes and poked out her bottom lip. "Is that what you heard from these two?" She asked, nudging her head in Mordecai and Rigby's direction.

Because if that was the truth, then there were two young liars standing in their midst! No way, Rigby was not going to insult her food then go to his boss and ask for a cake! It was worse than any punishment she could have ever been given, to be insulted once at her place of work then to be embarrassed in front of a group of strangers? And they agreed to this behind her back? It was beyond offensive!

"Rye seems to agree." He said with a pout.

Rye? Heather looked to her right to see her sister with a large shit-eating grin on her face. Her eyes had darted off in a different direction while her two lips poked out in a childish manner. Oh so she thought this was cute, did she? How could her sister betray her like this?

"You do bake, don't you?"

He was speaking again, even if she wasn't looking in his direction, Benson continued to address her. After a moment of sending her elder sister a death glare, Heather turned her head back to face the older man.

Did she bake? What kind of question was that? It wasn't another insult, was it? If it was, she wasn't going to go down as easily as she had in the kitchen. This was her second chance to stand up for herself.

"I don't just bake cakes." She straightened her shoulders and narrowed her field of vision at her 'boss'. "I bake the best cakes."

"The best?" Rigby glanced back at Heather.

Before she could defend herself, Mordecai stepped in. He lifted his left foot and seconds later, slammed it down on Rigby's right foot. The smaller mammal released a loud yelp before throwing his hands down to his calf.

"Good to know." Benson said with a single nod. "I don't want to be disappointed."

Heather felt her scowl grow as her lip began to curl. Was that a threat or challenge? Either way she wasn't going to be defeated. Not by some lame manager of a failing park. She was better than him, better than anyone, besides her sister, who stood in the area. She was superior and she was going to prove it.

Then she could get a good laugh after saying, 'I told you so'.

"Don't worry about the cake," Heather hissed. "Worry about your so-called employees."

"Hey!" Rigby released his grip on his wounded leg and turned up to face the baker. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Heather moved her arms over her bust and shifted her weight to her right leg. "Exactly what it sounds like."

"Heather!" Rye balled up both of her fists and called out to her younger half.

Benson took a single step forward with a single hand lifted. "Relax."

"Can we PLEASE get to the emergency part of this meeting?" Muscle Man huffed and snorted with displeasure.

Oh God, here it was, time for the truth to finally come out. No matter how much backtalk she gave Benson, the time had come. Her misdeeds with the good, premium hotdogs had come to pass. What would be her punishment? She was going to be fired, she was sure of it.

Might as well go out with a bang, right?

"It seems someone has used more than half of the premium hotdogs." Benson replied without hesitation. "I wanna know who it was, that way I can deduct that money from their paycheck."

"HOTDOGS?" Heather released a loud and obnoxious laugh that caused every person within earshot to give her a confused glare. She threw her open palm over her chest and continued to giggle-snort. "Is THAT what we're here for?"

Still giving her a strange and confused look, Benson gave a shallow nod of his head. "Yes," He cleared his throat for a short moment before continuing. "I paid good money for those dogs and I want to know which idiot I have to punish."

Heather shut her eyes for a brief moment before allowing her arm to swing outward in a nonchalant manner. "They're just a few franks, who gives a hoot? Its not like they were made out of gold or anything."

"They might have well been." Benson narrowed his field of vision at Heather. "They cost me a small fortune."

"Just go back down to the grocery store," Heather could feel beads of sweat building on her brow.

This wasn't going as smoothly as she thought it would have. She was sure a few persuasive words and a good chuckle would get Benson off of his high horse. All she was doing was incriminating herself even more than before. When she reopened her eyes, she saw the living gumball machine glaring back in her direction. When she glanced to the right left she saw even more pairs of eyes watching her, waiting for some kind of clever answer.

"We're going to have to." Benson's low voice caused Heather to jerk back in his direction. "I was saving those hotdogs for Pops' birthday barbeque."

Okay she could put two and two together. Birthday cake, barbeque that had to mean that someone was having a birthday bash in the not to distant future. And since the name 'Pops' had come up more than once, she could only assume it was for him.

Wait; was that the reason why Mr. Maellard wanted the park looking as spiffy as it could? That was the reason why he had hired Rye? Things were coming together faster than Heather expected.

But who the HELL signed her up as baker for the party? It wouldn't be a stretch to say that Mordecai and Rigby were the masterminds behind it all.

"So out with it."

Heather felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up straight. So this was her moment, this was her cue to speak up and take the blame? Hell no! She couldn't, she wouldn't! That was a death sentence for the job she hadn't even started. She jerked her head to the left once again, looking back to the other males and sister. They kept their staring eyes on her while gravity pulled at their frowns. So they weren't going to save her behind and they weren't going to call her out?

One had to be worse than the other, she wasn't sure which; at least if someone put her name on blast, then it would be easier than speaking up at such an awkward moment.

Her eyes moved from Muscle Man and High-five who stood furthest away over to Rye. Her sister had a look of sympathy in her eyes that caused Heather's heart to ache. Oh geez, why did her elder sis have to stare at her with such glassy, round, brown eyes? Ah God, with a look like that, there was no way she couldn't admit her wrongdoing.

Heather turned her head forward once again. She allowed her head to hang downward while her eyelids hung heavy over her dark brown eyes. Why did telling the truth always have to be so hard? As a child, she would have never admitted to something like this so why now? Damn, growing up and taking responsibility for her actions was a drag. A total drag.

"It was me."

She allowed her eyes to move up from the floor and focus on Benson's changing expression. His eyes widened and his jaw cracked open just a few inches. Then not more than a second later, his brow fell over his eyes and his mouth shut. He sported a very fitting frown before lacing his arms over his chest. Disappointment claimed his expression.

"But!" Heather jerked out over her standing position and took a single step forward. "I was doing it for the good of the park! I was selling them to make a good profit!" Hell, if she was going to be honest about the hotdogs, she could at least lie about her reasoning. She wasn't an angel just a crazy, perfectionist baker/cook.

Benson removed his arms from his chest and pushed his right hand to his cheek. He released a long, tired sigh before speaking. "So let me get this straight." He began in a calm, low voice, "You intruded on the snack bar, sold the premium hotdogs and used the oven without signing a waiver?"

She felt her mouth and throat go dry. "Yes."

He gave a single nod of his glass head. With little effort, he moved his hand away from his face and allowed it to hit his side. He shut his eye for a short second before taking in a deep inhale of air. After reopening his eyes, he focused on Heather and steadied his features. His lips then moved with ease.

"You're fired."

It was as if the wind was knocked out of her lungs. Her jaw dropped and her eyes snapped open. All the sweat that had built on her brow fell down her face and dripped off her chin. She took a single shallow breath, trying to compose herself. Did she just hear what she thought she heard? She repeated his voice in her head.

"You're fired."

She was sure she heard him right. It wasn't something she confuse with anything else, right? And why in the world did it hurt so much? Sure it was the first time she had ever heard it from a boss and she had only gotten hired only seconds earlier, but it still stung.

"Wait a second,"

The sound of Rye's voice vibrated in her ears but Heather couldn't, refused to respond. She was speechless for once in her short life.

"This isn't fair," Rye stepped forward, moving herself between her younger sister and her boss. "She didn't know any different, it was a mistake."

"I don't care." Benson's pitch didn't change in the lest. "She used company property without permission and she cooked without signing a waiver. What if she had gotten hurt? It would be our fault."

Rye's arms shout outward and her voice deepened. "I understand that but she wasn't trying to hurt anyone."

Mordecai stepped out of place and stood beside Rye. "Come on Benson, it wasn't like she did it on purpose. How many times has Rigby messed up and you never fired him."

"Hey!" Rigby squeaked. "Leave me out of this!"

Mordecai turned his chin over his shoulder and shot a glare at the raccoon, "Come on dude."

The sound of grass crunching caused Heather to flinch. She turned to see Skips place his fisted hands to his hips. He cleared his throat loud enough to catch Benson's attention. The yeti then moved forward, gently pushing passed Mordecai and Rye.

"She did clear out the fridge, Benson." He said in a monotone voice.

"Clear out of the fridge?" The gumball man repeated. "You mean there was expired food in there?"

"Quite a bit."

Benson tore his eyes away from Skips and moved his body to the right. Looking beyond Rye and Mordecai, his eyes locked with Heather's. He stared at her with wide, shocked eyes.

"There shouldn't have been," Benson said, attention still stuck to hers. "Its Rigby's job to clean the fridge out."

The sound of Rigby's small chuckle caused the entire group to turn downward. The small mammal had moved his hand up and behind his head. While he scratched the back of his ears, he released even louder nervous laughs. A look of guilt over came his face and he allowed his head to sink between his shoulders.

"Yeeeeeah, I was meaning to clean that out."

"Rigby!" Benson was quick to shout at the smaller male. "That could have killed someone!"

"But it didn't!" The raccoon shot back in his own defense. "Look, Heather cleaned it out, problem solved. Homicide evaded, its totally cool."

Benson's body began to flash a bright shade of red. "It is NOT cool!" He threw his balled fists down in anger as he continued to shout, "You're supposed to keep the fridge clean, that's what I pay you for!"

"Hey it's done man." Rigby moved his hands to his chest and allowed a smile to spread over his cheeks. "Move on."

The red gumball machine released a loud and unsatisfied groan before lifting his tiny hand to his face. He allowed his gray hand to hit his cheek and slide down in slow motion.

"So are you gonna give Heather her job back?"

Heather felt her heart thump in her chest. She locked her gaze to Skips' back and watched as he waited for Benson's reply. Why was he helping her? What had she done to deserve a second chance, after all she did make a big mistake, or at least it seemed that way. Either way, she was sure her heart couldn't beat any faster.

"If you can let Rigby get away without doing his job then I think she can have a second chance with hers." He spoke without hesitation.

Heather watched as the bright red complexion on Benson's face and body soon faded. He allowed his facial features to relax and his arm to return to his side. He looked to Skips for a moment then to Rigby and finally resting his eyes on her.

There was no anger in his eyes this time. He was frowning but his energy and mood seemed lighter than moments before. The cold, distant attitude softened and almost appeared to lighten. Was he feeling differently than he was minutes ago? Had Skips just saved her job?

"Fine." Benson finally broke the contact between them. "But only because I need her to bake Pops' birthday cake. But," He lifted a single finger into the air. "I'm deducting the price of the hotdogs from your pay."

Heather felt blood rushing to her cheeks. Her lips curled upward in a smile she couldn't refuse. It was as if the speechlessness she had hanging over her head blew away. Her entire body felt warm and light as if she were about to float away but she didn't care. It was a feeling she hadn't felt but somehow appeared familiar to her muscles. She was ready to leap from her standing spot and grab onto Skips, giving him a 'thank you hug'. Only if he wasn't so intimidating…

"Deal!" Heather squealed in excitement.

"Oh," Benson was quick to speak out again. "And you're going to the store to get more." He said, shooting a death glare in her direction. "Don't skimp on the quality either."

Heather felt her 'lighter than air' feeling plummet. "Do I have to pay for them?"

He gave her a blank stare. "Do I have to ask?"

His point was clear enough; she didn't need to ask any further. Although the idea of having her pay deducted and having to pay for the new hotdogs out of pocket was not something she found fair, she didn't have much of a choice. She'd still be making money working for him, right? Money was money.

"Fine." She was quick to pout again. "I'm getting Nathan's hotdogs. They're the best after all."

Benson lifted his hand and shut his eyes. "As long as they're good that's all that matters."

"I can do that." Heather forced a smile. "I'll make them even better than those primo-dogs too. You can count on that."

Act End.