Zay lay his sticks down across the snare drum and reached for a towel. He'd woken up early and hadn't been able to fall asleep again, so he'd gone out back to his sound proofed (Paul and the neighbours had insisted) practice room to bang a little. Now he was famished.
The sky was just beginning to lighten, and he could see a light coming from the window of the converted garage. There were some enticing smells as well, though nothing with chocolate. He would have to bug Paul again. He'd worked it down to a fine art. He would stop just short of getting his backside warmed, yet close enough that Paul would want to bake something to soothe his nerves. And more often than not it would have chocolate. Zay rubbed his hands together and chortled. *I'm coming to get you Paulie*
He entered the catering kitchen and was a bit disappointed to find only Suzy. He couldn't work her like he could Paul. He smiled anyway. "Morning Suzy. I guess Paul is still in bed?" Zay lifted the lids of a few pots to see if they had anything of interest, until Suzy swatted him. "Ow. But I'm hungry."
“Stay out of those pans, Zay, and DON’T touch that!” Suzy scolded, as she snatched up the large wooden spoon. She waved it menacingly at Zay, and for one horrid moment, Zay saw a startling, striking, resemblance to Paul on the warpath.
After giving Zay The Look, she turned her back on him and began chopping some nuts. It was Monday, so it meant heavy baking day. Ley Catering (aptly named by Paul and Suzy Leyland when they started this business) supplied cakes and pastries to several cafes and eateries in the neighbourhood, and they baked extensively on Mondays and Wednesdays. This worked well since most catering functions were over the weekends and it spread their work out more evenly.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zay inching his way over to the workbench. She knew what he was after. She had just finished a tray of peanut butter cookies and Zay loved peanut butter only marginally less than chocolates. In truth, Suzy had a soft spot for Zay and had in fact put aside a few cookies for him but suddenly she felt cross with him for encroaching into her space.
“What?” she snapped, without turning around.
As quickly as he had reached for one of the warm tantalizing pieces of peanutbuttery goodness, Zay yanked his hand back. Damn.
"Is it that time of the month? Cause you seem to be getting in touch with your inner bitch this morning. No offense, but you did wave a wooden spoon at me. That's Paul's job. So, what's buggin' you?"
Zay crossed his arms and waited for an answer. And a cookie.
Suzy sniffed and wiped a floury hand across her pert little nose. She was much smaller than Paul but only a couple of inches shorter than Zay’s 5’ 8” frame. So when she straightened up and turned to face Zay, they were almost eye to eye. And her’s were spitting fire.
Zay blinked, backed up a few steps and thought about picking up a rubber spatula or something he could use to defend himself.
“So what if it is? You ever felt the cramps, mister? Do you know what its like to have your insides turn somersault and have your intestines all twisted? Do you?” she demanded, glaring, and then turned abruptly back to her kneading.
Zay didn't say anything more, just shook his head no a lot. He had a younger sister, so he knew a bit about female rage. And that the smart male kept quiet until the worst of the storm had passed.
“And its not, mister busybody! I’m just out of sync this morning, so I suggest you stay out of my hair if you don’t want to get swatted. And yes, I know that is Paul’s job and he does a damn good job of it too, if I may say so. Otherwise, God knows what else you would be ….”
Zay held his hands up in a placating fashion. "Ok, ok. I get the message. Geez. And I happen to behave, well mostly. I try to keep the important rules. I'm not perfect, if I was I wouldn't be a brat and I wouldn't need a top. SO, are you gonna tell me what's buggin'g you and don't give me this out of sync crap.”
Suzy eyed Zay suspiciously, giving him a measured look. “Can I trust you?”
"I didn't spill about the time you managed to sneak into a locker room and steal David Beckham's jock strap, did I? OR the time you flashed your tits for Mardi Gras beads. Or the time you were really drunk and ended up in your neighbor's house and in your neighbor's bed and had a threesome with him and his wife. Even though they are both WAY over sixty and can I just say euw here. Wait. Scratch that last one, I think that was Jinx. My bad."
Suzy grimaced and shuddered. “God, you gave me a turn there – thought I had somehow erased the memory ... bad ... bad.” She peered into Zay’s face and finally said, “Oh … all right! I guess you have earned it. You HAVE been good with my secrets so far, I gotta admit that, and I DO need a sounding board. Now, we have to keep a watch out for Bunny coz I don’t want him to know, the rat prattle that he is! And God forbid I don’t want Paul to even have a whiff of this. So come on over here and face the door so you can alert me if his highness decides to put in an appearance. He is in the office doing the books.”
"Paulie stomps around like a constipated rhino until he gets his first cup of coffee.”
Suzy giggled a bit. “Don’t let him hear you call him that. He hates that nickname.”
Zay grinned. “I know! Trust me, we'll hear him. But if it will make you happy, I will play lookout. Haven't done that since grade school."
“Yeah, yeah,” Suzy waved her hand dismissively, and then turned serious. “Listen, it’s about Steve.” Steve was Suzy’s fiancé. They had been engaged for almost two years and Steve had been pestering Suzy to name the day. In fact, the whole family on both sides had been waiting for them to ‘get on with it’ as Paul dryly said, and polite patience had finally given way to pointed questions.
"Don't tell me. You've finally set the date. Spill, so I can see if I won the bet."
Suzy dropped her voice into a whisper. “I think Steve is cheating on me!”
Zay whispered back. "There's no one but us here Suzy, and I don't think the catering kitchen is bugged." In a more normal tone he asked "And what makes you think that? Honestly, he doesn't seem the type to me."
“What do you mean, he’s not the type?” Suzy demanded, taking on an affronted air. “He is SO the type! He’s tall and good looking and charming ... all the girls are crazy about him. You should see the looks he gets; easy for him to get distracted. He’s so the type!” She repeated.
*Love is blind* Zay thought.
"Just because he gets looks of interest doesn't mean he returns them. And even if he does return them, still doesn't mean anything if he just looks. Paulie looks, hell I even look. Sometimes we point out a particularly fine ass to one another. I'll say 'Betcha'd like to spank that one" and we'll have a laugh.
“He’s been rather secretive lately. You know?”
"Maybe he's planning a surprise for you or something. Cummon, you've been together two years, he's been waiting for YOU to set the date. He's probably had his tux ready and wrapped in plastic for months."
“Well, women feel these things. I just can tell; he’s different. He’s probably grown tired of waiting for me. Found some fresh meat. After all I am almost twenty-six ...” she caught Zay’s eyes and glared. “I mean twenty-seven ... Oh, all right .... twenty-eight, happy now? I am twenty-eight this year. And Steve wants someone younger, juicier, and skinnier. Drat this catering business. I get fat just by inhaling the cakes and the pasta!”
Zay wanted to roll his eyes, OH how he wanted to roll his eyes. But he refrained.
"Suzy," he said using his best patient voice. "I know that biological clock is ticking loud enough to wake the dead, but you are not yet ready for the bargain bin, ok? You are creative, spontaneous and you have curves where heterosexual guys like curves. You're not fat and I promise to let you know the minute it happens. So quit the pity party mood. You're gorgeous, and if girls worked for me, I'd do you in a heartbeat."
Suzy flashed one of her dazzling smiles at Zay, a pretty good replica of what Paul could produce when he was in a particularly saucy mood. “You would?” She fluttered her lashes a moment, before she rolled her eyes. “Waste of my time,” she muttered darkly, and then she slipped her hands into her jeans and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “There, I found this in his suit pocket the other day.”
It was a receipt for a dinner for two, at a fancy restaurant a little out of the way from where they lived. At the bottom, a telephone number was scribbled in a distinctly feminine hand. “And before you ask, yes, I already called. It was answered by some woman,” Suzy said with a grimace.
"I recognise the restaurant name. One of those jacket and tie required kind of places. I content myself with looking in the windows and making faces at the diners, until the management comes out and asks me to move along. And a woman answering the phone means absolutely nothing. Not without other evidence. I tell you what. I will gather together a bunch of friends and have them tail Steve for a few days. I'll call it Operation Keep it in Your Pants Steve. Howz that?"
Suzy’s eyelid fluttered again, this time with barely concealed eagerness. “You will do that? You sure you won’t get caught? Paul will just about KILL me if he finds out I’ve involved you in this.”
"No problemo. It'll be fun. And I don't think Paul would kill you." Zay cocked his head and made a slash motion. He'd heard the approach of 'The Beast'.
“Did I just hear my name?” Paul asked casually, as he walked over and slipped an arm around Zay’s waist. “Good morning, brat?” He leaned in and kissed Zay on the side of the head.
The sky was just beginning to lighten, and he could see a light coming from the window of the converted garage. There were some enticing smells as well, though nothing with chocolate. He would have to bug Paul again. He'd worked it down to a fine art. He would stop just short of getting his backside warmed, yet close enough that Paul would want to bake something to soothe his nerves. And more often than not it would have chocolate. Zay rubbed his hands together and chortled. *I'm coming to get you Paulie*
He entered the catering kitchen and was a bit disappointed to find only Suzy. He couldn't work her like he could Paul. He smiled anyway. "Morning Suzy. I guess Paul is still in bed?" Zay lifted the lids of a few pots to see if they had anything of interest, until Suzy swatted him. "Ow. But I'm hungry."
“Stay out of those pans, Zay, and DON’T touch that!” Suzy scolded, as she snatched up the large wooden spoon. She waved it menacingly at Zay, and for one horrid moment, Zay saw a startling, striking, resemblance to Paul on the warpath.
After giving Zay The Look, she turned her back on him and began chopping some nuts. It was Monday, so it meant heavy baking day. Ley Catering (aptly named by Paul and Suzy Leyland when they started this business) supplied cakes and pastries to several cafes and eateries in the neighbourhood, and they baked extensively on Mondays and Wednesdays. This worked well since most catering functions were over the weekends and it spread their work out more evenly.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zay inching his way over to the workbench. She knew what he was after. She had just finished a tray of peanut butter cookies and Zay loved peanut butter only marginally less than chocolates. In truth, Suzy had a soft spot for Zay and had in fact put aside a few cookies for him but suddenly she felt cross with him for encroaching into her space.
“What?” she snapped, without turning around.
As quickly as he had reached for one of the warm tantalizing pieces of peanutbuttery goodness, Zay yanked his hand back. Damn.
"Is it that time of the month? Cause you seem to be getting in touch with your inner bitch this morning. No offense, but you did wave a wooden spoon at me. That's Paul's job. So, what's buggin' you?"
Zay crossed his arms and waited for an answer. And a cookie.
Suzy sniffed and wiped a floury hand across her pert little nose. She was much smaller than Paul but only a couple of inches shorter than Zay’s 5’ 8” frame. So when she straightened up and turned to face Zay, they were almost eye to eye. And her’s were spitting fire.
Zay blinked, backed up a few steps and thought about picking up a rubber spatula or something he could use to defend himself.
“So what if it is? You ever felt the cramps, mister? Do you know what its like to have your insides turn somersault and have your intestines all twisted? Do you?” she demanded, glaring, and then turned abruptly back to her kneading.
Zay didn't say anything more, just shook his head no a lot. He had a younger sister, so he knew a bit about female rage. And that the smart male kept quiet until the worst of the storm had passed.
“And its not, mister busybody! I’m just out of sync this morning, so I suggest you stay out of my hair if you don’t want to get swatted. And yes, I know that is Paul’s job and he does a damn good job of it too, if I may say so. Otherwise, God knows what else you would be ….”
Zay held his hands up in a placating fashion. "Ok, ok. I get the message. Geez. And I happen to behave, well mostly. I try to keep the important rules. I'm not perfect, if I was I wouldn't be a brat and I wouldn't need a top. SO, are you gonna tell me what's buggin'g you and don't give me this out of sync crap.”
Suzy eyed Zay suspiciously, giving him a measured look. “Can I trust you?”
"I didn't spill about the time you managed to sneak into a locker room and steal David Beckham's jock strap, did I? OR the time you flashed your tits for Mardi Gras beads. Or the time you were really drunk and ended up in your neighbor's house and in your neighbor's bed and had a threesome with him and his wife. Even though they are both WAY over sixty and can I just say euw here. Wait. Scratch that last one, I think that was Jinx. My bad."
Suzy grimaced and shuddered. “God, you gave me a turn there – thought I had somehow erased the memory ... bad ... bad.” She peered into Zay’s face and finally said, “Oh … all right! I guess you have earned it. You HAVE been good with my secrets so far, I gotta admit that, and I DO need a sounding board. Now, we have to keep a watch out for Bunny coz I don’t want him to know, the rat prattle that he is! And God forbid I don’t want Paul to even have a whiff of this. So come on over here and face the door so you can alert me if his highness decides to put in an appearance. He is in the office doing the books.”
"Paulie stomps around like a constipated rhino until he gets his first cup of coffee.”
Suzy giggled a bit. “Don’t let him hear you call him that. He hates that nickname.”
Zay grinned. “I know! Trust me, we'll hear him. But if it will make you happy, I will play lookout. Haven't done that since grade school."
“Yeah, yeah,” Suzy waved her hand dismissively, and then turned serious. “Listen, it’s about Steve.” Steve was Suzy’s fiancé. They had been engaged for almost two years and Steve had been pestering Suzy to name the day. In fact, the whole family on both sides had been waiting for them to ‘get on with it’ as Paul dryly said, and polite patience had finally given way to pointed questions.
"Don't tell me. You've finally set the date. Spill, so I can see if I won the bet."
Suzy dropped her voice into a whisper. “I think Steve is cheating on me!”
Zay whispered back. "There's no one but us here Suzy, and I don't think the catering kitchen is bugged." In a more normal tone he asked "And what makes you think that? Honestly, he doesn't seem the type to me."
“What do you mean, he’s not the type?” Suzy demanded, taking on an affronted air. “He is SO the type! He’s tall and good looking and charming ... all the girls are crazy about him. You should see the looks he gets; easy for him to get distracted. He’s so the type!” She repeated.
*Love is blind* Zay thought.
"Just because he gets looks of interest doesn't mean he returns them. And even if he does return them, still doesn't mean anything if he just looks. Paulie looks, hell I even look. Sometimes we point out a particularly fine ass to one another. I'll say 'Betcha'd like to spank that one" and we'll have a laugh.
“He’s been rather secretive lately. You know?”
"Maybe he's planning a surprise for you or something. Cummon, you've been together two years, he's been waiting for YOU to set the date. He's probably had his tux ready and wrapped in plastic for months."
“Well, women feel these things. I just can tell; he’s different. He’s probably grown tired of waiting for me. Found some fresh meat. After all I am almost twenty-six ...” she caught Zay’s eyes and glared. “I mean twenty-seven ... Oh, all right .... twenty-eight, happy now? I am twenty-eight this year. And Steve wants someone younger, juicier, and skinnier. Drat this catering business. I get fat just by inhaling the cakes and the pasta!”
Zay wanted to roll his eyes, OH how he wanted to roll his eyes. But he refrained.
"Suzy," he said using his best patient voice. "I know that biological clock is ticking loud enough to wake the dead, but you are not yet ready for the bargain bin, ok? You are creative, spontaneous and you have curves where heterosexual guys like curves. You're not fat and I promise to let you know the minute it happens. So quit the pity party mood. You're gorgeous, and if girls worked for me, I'd do you in a heartbeat."
Suzy flashed one of her dazzling smiles at Zay, a pretty good replica of what Paul could produce when he was in a particularly saucy mood. “You would?” She fluttered her lashes a moment, before she rolled her eyes. “Waste of my time,” she muttered darkly, and then she slipped her hands into her jeans and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “There, I found this in his suit pocket the other day.”
It was a receipt for a dinner for two, at a fancy restaurant a little out of the way from where they lived. At the bottom, a telephone number was scribbled in a distinctly feminine hand. “And before you ask, yes, I already called. It was answered by some woman,” Suzy said with a grimace.
"I recognise the restaurant name. One of those jacket and tie required kind of places. I content myself with looking in the windows and making faces at the diners, until the management comes out and asks me to move along. And a woman answering the phone means absolutely nothing. Not without other evidence. I tell you what. I will gather together a bunch of friends and have them tail Steve for a few days. I'll call it Operation Keep it in Your Pants Steve. Howz that?"
Suzy’s eyelid fluttered again, this time with barely concealed eagerness. “You will do that? You sure you won’t get caught? Paul will just about KILL me if he finds out I’ve involved you in this.”
"No problemo. It'll be fun. And I don't think Paul would kill you." Zay cocked his head and made a slash motion. He'd heard the approach of 'The Beast'.
“Did I just hear my name?” Paul asked casually, as he walked over and slipped an arm around Zay’s waist. “Good morning, brat?” He leaned in and kissed Zay on the side of the head.
"Morning. I've been up for hours, banging away on the drums. Waiting for you to finally drag your ass out of bed and fix breakfast." Zay did his best impression of a baby bird, mouth open. "Feed me."
Paul turned to Suzy, gave her a LOOK and asked suspiciously, “What horror are you two planning today? Too much whisperings going on - so I give you both fair warning. Don’t go jumping in like you always do and then finding yourselves stuck in mud with the tide coming in.”
Zay gave Paul a look of wounded innocence. "Planning a horror? Moi? I'm just here for the peanut butter cookies, cross my heart."
Suzy rolled her eyes and went back to kneading, giving Zay a dirty look, saying sourly, “We didn’t hear you come in. Coffee’s ready, if you want some.”
Zay stuck his tongue out at Suzy, and then gave her a wink. "Are you serving Suzy?’Cause if you are, I'd love a cup as well." He fluttered his eyelashes at her. 'And a couple of peanut butter cookies. You make the best peanut butter cookies, maybe you can teach Paulie sometime."
He laughed as Paul tickled him without mercy.