Sweet 16

"Helena," Morgan Styles greeted his friend as she came back upstairs. "I heard congratulations are in order, but it looks like a few have beaten me," Morgan said, surveying the floral arrangements that kept pouring in.

"Thank you, Morgan," Helena said, accepting his kiss on the cheek. The two walked into the CEO's office.

Morgan stood in front of Helena's desk and waited for her to sit down before he did. Morgan was always the gentleman. "You seem to be quite busy," he commented when he saw Helena's usual pristine desk piled with papers.

"All in a day's work," Helena smiled. "Now, we have lots to discuss, Morgan." The two talked about future business deals and Helena gave Morgan a rare glimpse into some of the things her teams were working on. "I promise you, Morgan, continue to work with Wells Corp, and we won't disappoint," Helena pledged.

"Helena, you never do," the smoky blue-eyed executive said as the meeting ended.

If Helena Wells walked you to the door, it was a sure sign that she liked working with you. Eileen watched as the two executives came out of Helena's office and shook hands. And then Morgan did something he rarely did at a business meeting. He said something personal – "Myka is very fortunate, Helena," he said holding Helena's hand.

As happy as he was for his friend, he felt a little sorry for himself. He was a man of impeccable grooming, clothes, and women. And the only woman who had captured his interest and heart was now engaged.

"As am I," Helena said, squeezing his hand and putting her other one on top. Morgan Styles was a good man, she thought.

Helena went back inside and took out the piece of paper Millie had slipped to her. Her brow furrowed as she read the ingredients. Baking was not Helena's forte, but she had received the details of events the Mayor was asking Helena to attend. It was …..long. Eileen suggested having a nice dinner and preparing one of Millie's desserts. There wasn't a relationship at Wells Corp that wasn't doing better since Millie's food classes started. Helena called Leena and asked her to prepare a nice dinner and could she make certain that they had the following ingredients on hand: dark chocolate at least 72 percent cacao, ten tablespoons of butter, plus extra for greasing, two table spoons of guajillo chili, freshly ground, cinnamon, salt, sugar, eggs and flour.

"You're going to put guajillo – in the brownies?" Leena asked suspiciously.

"Yes," Helena answered like she had done it a hundred times before.

"In the brownie mix?" Leena asked again.

"Yes!" Helena answered because that's what it said on the paper.

"O….kay," Leena answered. She was already calculating how early she would have to come back tomorrow to deal with the mess in the kitchen that Helena was going to make.

While Helena was finishing up before leaving for her baking adventure, Bridget continued to bring more color to Myka's face than the spicy fusion of Spanish and Caribbean cuisines did. They talked about the press that followed Myka now and Myka shared how she was thinking of making a more visible statement that she and Helena were a couple.

"You tell the world, Myka! This is your woman," Bridget said, cheering her on.

"Yes, well ...I'm going to start with that list," Myka said.

"She has a list? Like a former lovers but still friends list?" Bridget asked, trying to understand.

"Not exactly. More like – people Helena will help without question if they come to her kind of list," Myka said, tasting one of the platens.

"I want to be on that list," Bridget said, sipping on her Hemingway Daiquiri.

"I'm sure that you could be after the job you did with ….," Myka said sipping her seltzer and holding her hand up with her diamond ring on it.

"That was pretty amazing, wasn't it? I've never had to deal with so many government agencies and then the President? I mean, even in my exciting job I don't get to deal with the President every day. You guys are set for July 4th weekend, right?" Bridget asked.

"July 4th?" Myka asked, taking a bit of her vegetable empanadas.

"You're going to the White House. As Michele and Barack's guests?" Bridget said, eating one of the yucca fritas. "Oh this is sooooo good."

"I don't think …when did you…..did Helena tell you that?" Myka asked, certain that she would remember making a date for dinner with the President.

"Yes, today on the phone," Bridget said, unaware that this was news. "She said she has a long list of events she is committed to for the Mayor, and that's the first time she said you were free. I pointed out we were talking about the top governmental position versus the local government position, but she said he had done a lot for her lately," Bridget said and finally looked at Myka.

"Wait? You didn't know? Oh Myka, I'm so sorry. I thought when Helena agreed, she cleared it with you," Bridget said, trying to backtrack.

"No, she didn't mention it yet, but I'm sure she will," Myka said, wondering when that would be.

"You guys must be so busy with everyone calling and the press and the …how did your family take the news?" Bridget segued.

"What? Oh, my parents were – happy. My mother has left several voice mails about dresses. My father said he wanted to pay for it, but we'd have to get married in Colorado…..," is as far as Myka got before Bridget – choked on her drink. It was so bad, the waiter came over.

"No, thanks, I'm fine," Bridget said, trying to get her vocal cords to work again. "I'm sorry; I thought you said you're getting married in Colorado."

"No, my father offered to pay….," Myka tried to explain.

"Because that cannot happen," Bridget was already saying.

"No? Why not?" Myka asked out of curiosity.

"Helena? In Colorado Springs? In your local church - even if they let you?" Bridget said shuddering.

"Colorado Springs is beautiful," Myka said defensively.

"Yes, it is, but it's …your father offered to pay? That is so sweet," Bridget said, draining her glass.

"Yeah, he paid for Tracy's wedding," Myka explained.

"Oh speaking of people who are clueless, how is your sister?" Bridget said, because she could get away with things like that.

"We keep missing each other," Myka said. "I'll call her tonight."

"To be a fly on that wall," Bridget murmured.

By the time Myka got back to work, Helena had already left. Millie had given her explicit instructions of how to gently fold the ingredients into the mixture, how to grease the pan, and how to cut the brownies into squares. Helena heard some of it.

Leena looked at the wall clock and counted down and when she reached zero, she pointed to the kitchen door and heard the slam of the front door to the townhouse. Helena was always on time when she was determined to make something for Myka. Leena walked into the hallway and watched the three interns scamper and try to catch the items that Helena was better at casting aside. One intern leapt for her coat and got it. One caught a shoe that was kicked off and the last one dove for the Tory Burch bag and only caught it because he stretched out his long arms and got it.

Helena turned to look at the three students – all prostrate on the floor. "Please be careful with that," she asked the one who held her pocketbook with her tablet in it. He nodded his head.

"Are we all set?" Helena asked as Leena held the door open to the kitchen for her.

"The lamp chops are simmering, the kale is steaming, and all your ingredients are waiting for you," Leena said.

Helena surveyed the items. "Don't I need the big mixer?" Helena asked looking around for the Kitchen Aid Stand Mixer.

"It's broken and I don't think you need a mixer for this…..," Leena explained to the woman who loved machines.

"Broken? Get it! I'll take a look at it," Helena said, more excited at the thought of repairing something than baking something.

"You did take a look at it, remember?" Leena said, opening the closest door where the item lay in pieces on a shelf.

"I wanted to see the motor," Helena explained weakly.

"Yes, I know," Leena said, because Helena also wanted to see the motor inside the vacuum cleaner and the bladeless fan. Leena was going to have to start locking up any appliances she really needed.

"No matter. Okay, I shall get ready," Helena said, donning an apron and tying it behind her back.

"Are you sure you won't need me?" Leena asked and Helena said no. She took one more long look around her kitchen – as if it was going to be the last time she saw it. "Remember to fold the flour ….," Leena tried to say.

"Yes, yes. I do know my way around the kitchen if you remember," Helena said shooing the woman out.

Leena walked out busily touching her phone to set her alarm early. She could only imagine how long it would take her to get dried brownie mix off the refrigerator, windows, floor, and countertop.

Leena waited while the interns put everything in its place and then they all left the townhouse.

Minutes later, Helena was taking out the butter and reading the instructions Millie had given her. 'Grease the pan,' Helena read and took a paper towel and smeared the butter on the pan with it. Hard as she tried, the ingredient got on her hands. Then she put the chocolate in the double boiler and began to heat it up to melt. Within minutes, it softened and Helena added the butter. The water in the bottom pot started to over boil and water spurt out – onto the instructions which made the ink run. Helena looked down at the blurred mess that made the measurements illegible.

No problem - she would use her judgment. The only issue was the grease that made her hands slippery, made the containers slip and more chili ended up in the mixture than intended. A lot more. Helena balanced that out with more sugar than required and just a pinch more cinnamon. The chocolate had to cool – a process that seemed to take forever as Helena glared at the mixture trying to hurry it along. Finally, she decided it was cool enough and got out the flour and poured it into a bowl. Suddenly, she was ensconced in a cloud of white dust. Greasy hands touched the white substance and now covered hands went through her hair as she started to get frustrated.

"You're a bloody brilliant scientist," she said as she lifted the pan with the melted chocolate and carried it over to the bowl with the flour. "What the bloody hell does fold mean?" Helena asked, deciding it meant to pour the hot substance into the flour. Waves of dust particles shot up as the ingredients met. Helena's eyelashes were now covered in white. She took the spatula and began mixing the ingredients, all the time watching the clock. It had to bake for 30 minutes and Myka was due in around that time. She blended the items, poured the mixture into the greased pan, and put it in the oven. "There!" she said proudly, her stained hands running one more time through her hair.

Myka had read Leena's text which simply said – "Please be home on time." Leena didn't want to give away Helena's surprise, but she also didn't want the house to burn down.

Ordinarily, Helena would have run upstairs to change for dinner, but the broken mixer stared at her from the closet and beckoned her to fix it. She pushed the pan of unused chocolate and the flour bowl across the greasy countertop and went to work on fixing the ailing machine. She never heard Myka walk in.

Myka walked past the dining room and saw it set for dinner. Then she pushed the kitchen door open slowly and smiled. There was Helena, bent over the counter with her face up close to the motor of the lifeless mixer as she tried to bring it back to life with the skill of a surgeon. "There!" she said as the last screw was put in place. Helena plugged it in and turned the button on and voila! The mixer worked. Helena shut it off as Myka clapped and startled her.

"The patient is going to live?" Myka teased, coming in closer and seeing the condition of her partner. Chocolate was stuck in Helena's raven locks, dried blotches on her high cheekbone and flower stuck in her eyebrow and both lashes.

"Hello you," Myka said, leaning in to kiss the only part of Helena not covered in food.

"Hello you," Helena said, and wondered if Myka had any idea what she was up to. Given the present state of the kitchen, Myka could have easily surmised.

"Busy?" Myka asked.

"Fixing the mixer. Leena said it was broken," Helena answered.

"Oh yes, I wonder how that happened?" Myka asked, knowing fully well how it happened.

"Poor …..(cough) inferior design," Helena tried.

"Hmmm. You seem to have something …..," Myka said, touching Helena's hair that was stuck together.

"Nothing really," Helena said, trying to get Myka to concentrate on kissing her. "I missed you."

"Looks like I'm the only thing you missed," Myka said, surveying the mess.

"Myka!" Helena said, pretending to be insulted.

"Let me guess…..," Myka said, taking Helena's hand and seeing the caked food on her knuckle. She held Helena's hand near her own mouth, stuck out her tongue and slowly licked the food off Helena's finger. Helena's eyes grew wide as she watched and then felt the sensation of Myka's warm tongue slide along the digit.

"Chocolate…..?" Myka asked guessing the ingredient. "With a touch of motor oil?" she teased.

Helena didn't answer. Helena couldn't speak. She pushed her other hand up into Myka's face. Myka smiled and opened Helena' s hand, pressed the chef's index finger into her mouth, slowly swirling her tongue around it. Neither was sure there was even chocolate on it.

Then Helena remembered why she was doing all this.

"I …have a list…," she said trying to form sentences.

"You do?" Myka asked. "What kind of list?" she asked, as she licked a chocolate smudge off of Helena's chin.

"Oh God," the Brit let out, but tried to stay on track. "The Mayor…he's been so good…helping me…"

"Well, you do have you own transit system. I assumed someone signed off on all that underground drilling," Myka said.

"Yes," Helena said, but it was mostly just as a gasp for air.

"And I bet he wants you to pay him back," Myka said because she knew there were no free lunches.

"He …(gulp) …does. I have a list," Helena said, more for her own benefit that Myka's.

"What's on the list?" Myka asked in a whisper by Helena's ear and then pulled her in when Helena's knees gave out a little.

"Things …. sixteen …things …..I have to attend. Many things …events… things," Helena said, losing all cognitive ability to use syntax.

"Good," Myka said and pulled back to look into Helena's eyes to make sure she understood she meant it.

"Good?" Helena asked confused.

"Yes, good. I intend to go with you to each and every one of those events," Myka said.

"Oh good…I thought you would ….be," Helena said, giving up trying to make complete sentences..

"No, I'm on a mission, Helena. I'm going to let everyone on your list ….and the world….. know that you are mine. You, Helena Wells, are off limits," Myka said, kissing Helena so hard that the Brit's stockinged feet started to slip on the tile floor. "I've got you," Myka said holding her steady.

"Yes, you do, Myka. You really do."

There was one more passionate kiss between the lovers – before the screeching sound of the smoke detector went off as smoke from the oven filled the room.

They weren't the only thing overheating in the townhouse.