Red Hot Omelets

William Terry Louis Andrew Carrick Jonathan Dredge Hams Reading Roger Southwark Alwick Plymouth Junior Regison III is a wealthy man visiting Waffle Island in the hopes of finding reliable business partners. Gill just can't be bothered.

The smell of sea salts perforated the air as dark smoggy clouds glided lazily under the stars. He could see them from the bed, swishing out of rhythm with the boat. Gill closed his eyes to fall in sync with the waves, his body enveloped in silky soft sheets and pillows; a light tinge of wine on the tip of his tongue as he swallowed and a sickness began to swell in his stomach. Then the pressure…of a lithe body, limbs sinking into the bed like a cat climbing over him.

I know this smell.

He remembered the soft, warm puffs of air on his cheek as his lashes fluttered open.

"Good morning!"

Gill flipped off the bed, landing unceremoniously head-first on the floor, what was left of his sheets tangling his legs. Blinking through the blurry vision the only thing he could see was a pair of dirty shoes on his perfectly shiny wooden floor.

"Did I startle you?" the feminine voice asked rather irritatingly. Gill wanted to chew her out good, whoever she was, but first he had to figure out which way was up and which way was down.

"No, I always wake up this way." The nervous giggle gave her away. "Angela, a lady doesn't enter a man's room without permission!" Gill stumbled to his feet, still a bit light-headed and achy from his fall. For some reason, he could acutely hear every little noise and it only made him hurt worse.

Angela looked away with a guilty smile, "Well, when you didn't go home last night, I got…worried." Her face did turn to worry as her eyes scanned him, seemingly looking for…something.

"What are you talking about?" Gill sat back on the bed, holding a hand to his head. "My head is pounding."

"Let me get you some water!" she seemed all too happy to dash out of the room.

Gill frowned. If she were that uncomfortable being in his room, she shouldn't have come in the first place! Not only that, but she had the nerve to wake him up with that shiny face! If he were ten years older he might have gotten a heart attack… The woman came back with the promised water, which he drank without so much as a thank-you.

"You're not feeling weird anywhere, are you?" she asked, probing nervously for something. Whatever it was, it started to grate on his nerves.

He tipped the glass as the last droplet of water rolled onto his tongue. "My head hurts, but…hey, just what are you getting at?"

She blushed, waving her hands about and again, looking away. "N—nothing! I'm glad…"

Okay, this cryptic conversation needed to end. Now. Gill stood up like a bolt of lightning, secretly gratified by the look of surprise. He put on his brightest 'morning' smile. "Since you're here, why not join us for breakfast?"

"Um…actually, I have things to do—"

"You rudely woke me up at this ungodly hour. The least you can do is have something to eat."

"Yessir…" Her eyes teary in defeat, Angela followed downstairs.

To his surprise, the house was empty. Neither father nor Prince Charming were lounging around the living room, occupying precious space in the bathroom, or even dozing off in bed. It was far too early for either of them to be out, but Gill shrugged it off. He turned to her as he strapped on his newly cleaned apron, ignoring the snicker as he flipped through his trusty cookbook. "What would you like?"

"Grilled eggplant!" That response came a little too quick.

"Don't have any," he pointed out, slightly annoyed at the suggestion. Who ate anything grill this early in the morning? Much less eggplant. "Maybe in the fall."

The woman's enthusiasm level took a serious hit, but another item came to her just as fast. "Cereal!"

Gill sighed, tugging off the apron and hanging it up again. They'd bought some 'exotic' things while they were in the mainland yesterday, namely some popular food staples and the like. Of course Angela would want to try it out first thing in the morning. She probably ate all the snacks she'd bought already… "You can't even call that a meal," he groaned as he pulled a large bottle of milk from the fridge.

Angela looked like a little child waiting to open a birthday present with the way she fidgeted; it was almost sort of cute. Almost. Gill poured her a bowl and tossed the spoon, slamming the box of sugar puffs on the table. She didn't even have the courtesy to say grace before tearing into it. He just sat in front of his giving it a mildly disinterested poke. The way she gushed over it made him not want to eat at all, forget about the headache and…

"Ugh," he leaned over, forehead touching the table and hand covering his stomach.

Angela practically choke on a spoonful before immediately falling into mother hen mode. "Are you ok? So something hurts after all? Should I call the doctor?"

His eyes surveyed her carefully, narrowing in suspicion. "I'm just a little groggy… Seriously, tell me what's going on."

The woman breathed a sigh of relief, "That's good… Don't like the cereal?"

"I said tell me what's going on."

Her lips pursed.

Gill swallowed nervously as a sinking feeling rested in the pit of his stomach, as though he weren't already feeling like crap that morning. "Now that I think of it, I don't really remember much after the jewelry store… We went back to the yacht…then…" Brows furrowing as he tried hard to remember only to come up positively blank. Blue eyes rose to meet brown, catching her momentarily off guard, "Why don't I remember?"

"Well, you did buy that expensive wine…" The normally chatty farmer seemed reluctant to talk. That only made him feel worse.

Gill rested in head in his hands, rubbing his temple. Wine? Didn't I dream about something like that? So lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice her dumping the empty bowl and spoon into the sink and inching toward the door until she called from the entrance, "Gill! I'll be off now! I just wanted to make sure you were alright!"

Before he could utter a sound, she ran out the door. Sure she was acting strange, but that's not that unusual for Angela, right? Gill stared down into his bowl of milk, a little repulsed to see the corn cereal had grown big and soggy.

Later at work, he felt much better. Maybe it was the atmosphere or Elli's constant babying, but much of the sickness from earlier that morning faded into the recesses of his mind as they both drowned in paperwork.

"Why is it so terrible some days and lax other days? Why can't things just even themselves out?" he complained, stacking a couple sheets of paper and sliding them into a neat folder.

Elli laughed lightheartedly glancing back from the counter. "If like were like that, it'd be too easy, wouldn't it?"

"Humph."

The hours flew by with hardly any visitors. It was almost a bit lonesome. The boredom even managed to take his mind off things; usually it did just the opposite. He glanced at the clock, which read 5:44am… he arched a brow, calling back to Elli. "Elli, is the clock broken?"

"Oh no," the brunette leaned over a bookshelf to take a better look at it. "It just needs a fresh battery…I ordered some the other day but…"

Gill sighed. A simple dead clock was no big deal. He reached into his vest, feeling around for a few minutes before it finally sunk in that nothing was in there. He frowned. Now checking his front pants pockets, the back, the drawers, upstairs, downstairs, everywhere, he was becoming frazzled.

Elli looked over from her spot at the reception counter worriedly. "Did you lose something?"

"My pocket watch," but he mumbled too low for her to hear. He barely heard her, still scanning the floor for any sign of the gold ball chain. His heart started pounding as the realization came that he may have lost it yesterday. Please let it not be true. "Maybe I left it at home…"

She didn't fully understand the situation, but Elli was nice enough to let him go home early. He walked at such a fast pace, he barely noticed the horse standing outside his front gate.

"Then you won't be returning…?" the soft voice sounded on the other side of the door, and for whatever reason, those words pulled him out of his panic. Was that father?

Gill opened the door hesitantly to see Hamilton and Will talking in the living room. Hamilton seemed perturbed over something, but Will's face was pretty…normal?

"Oh, Gill, have a seat," beconed Hamilton with a wave of a chubby hand. Suddenly he felt like he were coming in for an interview. Gill sat down in one of the unoccupied chairs rather stiffly as his father went on. "We were just talking about having a going away party tomorrow night."

Gill blinked, "Going away party… for who?"

You can probably tell, I didn't get to leave off where I wanted to leave off, and this chapter ends rather abruptly due to time constraints. Lately I keep making the deadline by mere seconds... In any case, the next chapter is the last.