CHAPTER 10 - RECLAIMING THE THRONE...WITH THE HELP OF HONEY
BRITIN - SAME TIME
KITCHEN
JUSTIN
“Could’ve sworn I turned that off this morning.” I frown at the coffee machine before taking out the filter and sniffing the contents. “Ugh! Yes, I most definitely did! I hate this coffee!”
“Hi, Justin, oh and Brian. Is Gus in his room?” Maya asks as she enters.
“Yes, he is. Why did you put this coffee in here?”
“I didn’t, it was Michael. He and Lindsay were here a couple of hours ago, didn’t stay long.”
“They were? Why not? What did they want?” I can feel my shoulders rising.
“I don’t know, I wasn’t here. Seems that Lindsay had gotten another key cut and used that to get in, but Debs, like Nancy, thought she gave her key up too easily. And when she didn’t try and use Gus’s…
“Gus’s key?” I frown.
“Yes, the one he keeps in his bowl. She never touched it. It wouldn’t have worked anyway, as it was the key to Nancy’s lock up garage. Debs said that she had to have another key, odd they pick a day when everyone would be out to use it.”
“Very.” I growl, before noticing her smile. “What did you two plot?”
“Shut down power to the house, once they got inside.”
“What good would that do?” Brian sniffs the filter before throwing it swiftly away. “Where’s the proper stuff?!” I point to the caddies. We watch, amused, as he investigates before settling on one. “You were saying, Maya.”
“If you’re in the house when there’s no main power, then you have ten minutes to override the system or get out. If you don’t, the front and back door deploy their deadlocks, and all windows get shuttered by steel blinds, effectively trapping you in.” He looks impressed. “Will you be staying for the evening, Brian?”
“No, just the coffee. Thanks for doing the cookies.”
“My pleasure. Oh, and Justin, it’s set. I will leave you to it. Let me know when you’re ready for me to start dinner.”
Soon it is just us and the smell of coffee. “Oh, the whisky needs to ferment for at least a month.” As I pull cups out, he takes a seat.
“Great. So when do I get mine?” I turn to him in confusion. “I am owed, well I think I am.”
“You would need to speak to Nancy about the bill. She handled all of that. Did she give you her new details?”
“Yes, she did, but that’s not what I’m talking about, unless you have gone off me?”
“Gone off...of course, what was I thinking?!” I tilt up his chin and reciprocate his kiss from earlier. “Better? Is the debt paid?”
“Mmm. So what’s set?”
“Oh yes, hang on!” I trot to the back kitchen and bring in the tray. He joins me at the counter just as the machine pings off. “This is a coffee honeycomb crunch. I love anything to do with honey, so when I found this I had to make it. And it will be perfect with the coffee you selected, just a small bit in the bottom of the mug, no milk, perfect.” I find the toffee hammer and break it up, before watching him do as I just said. “Now pour.”
He carries the mugs to the table, then nods at the jar of cookies. I start to laugh. “What?”
“Well…” I begin as I join him. “...as well as that disgrace in the bin being his favourite coffee, which he insists on having here, this jar of cookies wasn’t out when I left this morning.”
“I see.” He sips his, then sighs. “Beautiful. Can I take some with me, or you email Daph the recipe? She’s the baker in our family, but I cook a mean steak.”
“Yes to both.”
“I don’t want to upset you, but I am curious as to why you aren’t king in your own castle?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you have other people fight your battles. I am not talking about Zeus, that I understand, but this is your home, not anyone else’s. Why are you allowing them to come and go as they please until they are stopped by anyone but you?”
I’m about to furiously object, when I think about it; before finally voicing my fear. “Even though I still have my rights, she could make seeing Gus very difficult.”
“How?!” He scoffs. “Neither Gus nor Mel would let that happen.”
“I know, but....” I mutter.
“But what?” He frowns. “Talk to me, help me to understand, please?”
“It all stems from my estranged parents. When I came out as a teenager, they were disgusted and told me to either be straight or get out. I was 15, but I knew I couldn’t lie to myself, let alone the world, so I left. Mel’s folks were great and took me in. After about a year, my folks changed their minds and said I could move back. I was so pleased, I thought they had accepted me. He even let me go to PIFA, which was my dream instead of his Dartmouth one. Everything was fine for a few years, until I graduated and got my first show. It was a great success, so naturally, they played proud parents.” He breaks a cookie in half and we cheers. “But then granddad got sick. He lasted about six months before he passed away. I had just turned 20.”
“Sorry for your loss, Moro. He supported you from the get go, right?”
“Yes. He made it a condition of his will that I was to remain in the family home until I was 21. The day after my birthday, they kicked me out to ‘live my degenerate life with my pitiful inheritance...if he loved you he would’ve left you more, wouldn’t he?’. They were so pleased that they got the company. I have to admit that those words hurt, as I really thought he did love me for me. So, I just got on with things. I moved to New York and built up my profile, gaining more and more recognition. The day after my 23rd birthday, I was summoned back to Pittsburgh. When Craig and Jennifer were made Presidents of Taylor Electronics, they had to keep the company profitable, which they just about managed to do, despite their innate laziness and lack of business sense!”
“Taylor Electronics, wow!”
“Oh yeah, but what none of us knew was that there was a second caveat, which was that when I reached 23 years and one day old, I became the majority shareholder. The first meeting was tempestuous to say the least, especially as I could barely recognise Jennifer. Talk about plastic, not fantastic!”
I notice him twirl his foot for the fourth time, so reach down and place it on my lap. He’s transfixed as I slowly take his trainer and sock off.
“What are you doing?” His voice is low; his gaze doesn’t shift.
“Reflexology. You are not the only one good with his hands. May I continue?”
“Yes to both.” He sighs.
“They were furious; even tried to contest it. I really tried to work with them, but they weren’t having it, so I just got on with dragging it into the 21st century, whilst also trying to do my art. A couple of years later, the profits had quadrupled, but I was exhausted. I was sick and tired of doing it by myself. Of course, they wouldn’t sell to me. Instead, they got together a consortium to buy me out. When I saw who their partners were, I was horrified: far right nutjobs, homophobes, the worst of the worst. I knew my grandfather would be turning in his grave if the company he built from the dust up went to them…”
I look up at his soft moan as I press away a ‘tension ball’. “...one of their consortium was George Schickel. He and Granddad had been rivals from the moment they met, and he had a fuckton of money, so one hostile takeover later, I had millions but was kicked out again. I felt I had failed him. Oh, they were so smug, especially when they continued to follow the plan I had instigated, but not with the right people. It didn’t take long for the business and share price to plummet, or for them to reach out to me for help. I refused, so it’s been declining ever since.”
He halves, then feeds me another piece of cookie. “You ever thought of buying the company back?”
“No. Once I was booted out, I stayed out. Yes, I kept it in my peripheral, but that’s their mess now, not mine.”
“Hmm. You going to strip it or shall I?”
“What?”
“My left foot.” He waves it at me.
“Place in lap.” Whilst he does that, he doesn’t lower his right, just wiggles his toes against my tummy.
“Have I upset you?”
“No, I just never thought of that. Did I tell you that they’ve been selling my early works? I mean, like from when I was a teenager up until my third show. Nancy had been buying them, so now I have them back. You see, when they kicked me out, it was just in what I was wearing.”
“Give it some thought. You can save your Granddad’s legacy. “ I stop massaging as that idea sinks in. “Could you think about it after you’ve finished?” I chuckle and restart. “And you also need to think of another thing…”
“Flóga.” I interrupt, having already been trying to think of something to call him. “It means…”
“Flame. Now is it because of how hot and bothered I get you, or because of my hair?”
“Yes to both.”
Coffee honeycomb crunch:
https://www.saveur.com/coffee-honeycomb-crunch-recipe/