by Falls, K. C.
The taxi ride back to the Elysium was one long, delicious replay of the night before. Nick was besotted with the passion that this woman could call forth in herself and in him. The mental image of her wildly riding him, hair flying, hands pressed against his chest was on a continual loop in his mind. But then another image played its way across the theater of his mind. Mae, barefoot in the kitchen, leaning into the oven to retrieve a casserole. It was an ordinary image that had an extraordinary result. All at once, he could see that same scene with a different background--a farmhouse kitchen in North Carolina.
Nick surprised even himself. He literally shook his head to try to rattle away the ridiculous thought. Man, the mind is a terrible thing to lose. Remember Nicky-boy--girl chef, down and dirty sex. She's grateful that you saved her ass from freezing to death. She's 'playing nice'. She's used to rolling whatever playboy guest strikes her fancy. It's a nice fancy, that's for sure. But it's a fancy all the same.
She's a career chef in a profession that is doubly hard on women. Sure, she's well-respected, hell, she's likable enough. But she's not looking for your idea of paradise. Stick to the program. Play nice, but don't get involved. You've got a whole lifetime to find someone to share the dream.
By the time the taxi pulled up to the hotel, Nick had gone through the mental masturbation necessary to move Mae back into the box she belonged in. The first thing he did when he got to the office was put in a call to Kurt to find out how much longer he could expect to be pinch-hitting for him.
***
Mae allowed herself to drift for a while in the soft light of morning, sleeping and waking flowed seamlessly into one another for an hour or so until she awoke in earnest. She remembered Nick's kiss good-bye and wasn't really sorry that she didn't have to face the whole 'morning thing' with him just yet. She didn't feel ready to listen to him brush his teeth or take a morning whiz. She, herself, was most assuredly not a morning person and did everything she could to avoid people for at least an hour after she awoke even if it meant getting up early to have that luxury. One of the many attractions of being a chef had been that it is largely not a morning-oriented career. Hotels are an exception, but once you move into the management ranks of the kitchen, no one expects you to be slinging eggs at the ass-crack of dawn.
This morning in particular, Mae was very grateful that there was nothing to compel her to rise and shine. She wanted to take full advantage of lying around for a while just luxuriating in being satisfied. So, so good. So fine. So sexy. So yummy. She just kept going over and over how good Nick smelled, how he tasted, even the sounds he made when she touched him.
She smiled at the pleasure he took in the simple meal she had prepared. He was so much like a kid tucking in to that mac and cheese. In spite of the rather European sophistication he projected, it turned out that he was really a fairly down-to-earth guy. She finally did have to admit that he had passion about food--and the right kind of passion at that. They had discussed their views over dinner and discovered that they both found the same pretensions silly, both admired the same schools of thought about food, both disdained the old-school 'Chef's gotta be a drill sergeant' mentality.
He had chided her on that point."But you called me an asshole even when you couldn't remember where you were!"
"True, but I spent a lot of time trying to convince myself that you were an asshole," Mae had laughed. "Really, I did think it was inconsiderate of you to just walk out of the kitchen that Thursday at eight o'clock."
"Oh so that's what bothered you!"
"You didn't even say goodnight to anyone."
"Mae, you guys were slammed. I was slap happy with jet lag and would have been all thumbs if I had even tried to pitch in. Besides you guys were kicking ass. I didn't want to do anything to break the rhythm."
Mae had grudgingly had to admit to herself that he was right. There was really nothing he could have done but get in their way.
She sighed. No I really can't dislike him. I just can't have him. It could be a week, or two, but he's got a whole plan mapped out that he's committed to and before I know it, he'll be gone and on his way to a 'real house' and a restaurant he's going to build the way he wants it to be. I have to respect that. And I know that I brought this on myself. I thought he was a guest. I intended to have a some 'adult playtime' with a handsome stranger. I should enjoy him for what he is. I hope I can. I hope I can let go gracefully. I hope this sadness goes away.
***
"Right, man. That sounds like a good plan to me." Nick nodded into the phone and listened to his uncle's tale. "Everything's running smoothly here. Not to worry. That little colonel you have is something else."
From the opposite side of the world Kurt laughed out loud into the phone. "She is absolute proof that good things come in small packages. Cool under fire, energetic, and knows her stuff. I'll be really glad to see her again."
"She could have easily taken over for you. I didn't need to drop everything and come here, you know."
"I know that and I appreciate your sacrifice. If it hadn't been for you, the Elysium would have canned me for this stunt. But you know, Nick, I had to find Bernie if for no other reason than to find out why she left."
"Kurt, you don't owe me an explanation. I'm just glad you're coming back. I'm ready to move along."
As Kurt regaled him with the tale of his adventure in Panama, Nick's mind wandered. I am ready to move along. I want my farm, I want to watch my ideas take shape, to nurture this dream. I am sick and tired of a thousand different demands and the whole impersonal mega-show these hotels require.
Kurt's return to Singapore would free Nick from what had occupied him for so many weeks. But at the same time, it spelled the end of his time with Mae and that he knew he would regret. After the night at Cess's apartment, they had continued to steal what time they could with each other. Most of it had been late at night after Nick left the Elysium kitchen..
They revisited the pool and the grotto and played again in the dark water. They sneaked up to his suite and frolicked on the king sized bed. And, one night Mae stole into the kitchen at closing and they made Nick's wet-dream come true.
Mae had returned to work a day earlier than the doctor had ordered and during the many daylight hours spent in close proximity, both enjoyed the shared secret of their relationship. Their daily meetings in the morning became an exercise in play-acting and harmless deception that both of them laughed about later when they dropped their work persona and dived into each other's arms. Passing in the kitchen or the pantry, each savored the electric current that arced between them.
By an unspoken agreement, neither one of them discussed the terminal nature of their affair. But Nick's imminent departure hung over them like a mist and produced moments for each of them when things that begged to be expressed were instead suppressed. The consequence was to grant them, in their lovemaking, an abandon and passion neither one of them expected. It was as if in tying their own tongues, they gave their bodies license to mutely sing to each other. And sing they did.
When they talked about their lives going forward, they spoke in carefully crafted narratives. He talked about his father's death and how it had influenced his decision to strike out on his own. He talked of his farm, the way he would create his barn restaurant, the dishes he hoped would garner him a loyal following. He did not expect great wealth, nor did he need it. His parents had managed to leave him a surprising fortune. His father's work had been more than sufficient to support the family and the legacy that passed into his Spanish mother's aristocratic hands had simply been left to grow. There was more than enough in his trust for him to live well for the rest of his life without ever working again.
But Nick craved the satisfaction of building something that was an expression of his vision. He spoke to Mae of the ideas he would put into place at his farm. He described what he wanted to do with the barn's interior and how he'd remodel the house without taking away its original charm. He didn't tell her that his dreams inc
luded having a wife and family in that house someday. That would have been out of their silent, self-imposed boundaries.
She talked mostly of travel and the places she might move along to after her time at the Elysium was over. She wondered aloud at what opportunities might present themselves to her in Hong Kong or New York. She seemed, to Nick, to have a career focus much like he had had before his decision to leave hotels and the corporate life.
She talked about how much she truly enjoyed her work and the affection she had for the great crew at the Elysium. She frequently made reference to Kurt and his absence and how genuinely worried she was about the boss who was her friend. And at those times, Nick felt guilty. He knew where Kurt was and why but he had been sworn to secrecy to share it only with the highest levels of management when Kurt arranged for Nick to be his replacement.
"Nick, are you still there?" Kurt had been rambling on about Bernadette and Panama for several minutes with no response from Nick.
"Sure, Kurt. That's quite a tale. Have you decided on a date when you're coming back?."
"You're going to have to hold down the fort a little longer. I'll try to make it snappy, but I still have some tap-dancing to do. Give my little Mae a kiss for me. She's gonna be mighty pissed when I return, but she's the forgiving sort."
"Does that mean I can tell her the story? And that you're coming back?" It had been hard to keep the information from her and Nick wasn't at all sure how she'd react but he was anxious to be done with the subterfuge.
"I suppose it's okay if you think she can keep a secret."
"I think she can." I know she can.
***
Mae was sketching out a recipe for Tuscan chicken soup. Her favorite night at the Elysium was Saturday when the special's menu highlighted a unique world cuisine. She especially loved the Italian-themed nights. The recipes were familiar and the execution was easy, but the results were always satisfying. She had developed an entire notebook devoted to her Italian recipes for the Elys. Italy has so many distinct cuisines that it was easy to make the cycle of Italian nights interesting and fresh every couple of months when that country's menu came up in rotation.
She could see Nick watching her from the platform outside his office door. She had a small notebook computer that she used exclusively for the kitchen and she drummed her fingers on the keys as her mind worked through proportions and ingredients. She knew what Saturday's menu was going to look like as they had fleshed out the particulars in bed a couple of nights earlier. Food talk was always safe and they always had a great time bouncing culinary ideas off of one another.
"Tuscan chicken soup" she had exclaimed as if she had just made some grand discovery. "No one expects chicken--it's always about pork, pork and more pork. I think roasted chicken would be divine in a light tomato broth."
"Add some white beans," he said as he drew a nipple noisily into his mouth and let it out with a pop. "And, a handful of pasta."He drew the other one in the same way and giving it a little nip as he pulled his head away and let it escape the suction.
"Ouch! My nipples aren't beans you sadistic glutton!"
"I am a glutton. And now I'm going to devour you." He had then proceeded to make her giggle with delight as he pretended to 'eat' his way down her body with groans and cries of "yum-yum!", "delicious!", "succulent!", "flavorful!", "tasty!" Then he reached her pussy. "Ah, what have we here? Hmmm. What's this? A fresh bearded clam to tempt my palate?"
In mock surprise he had tilted his head this way and that as he spread her legs as if to better examine her parts. "Why, this clam is beardless! Truly, a hairless mollusk! I must have it...must have a taste of this rare specimen." And with that, he dove into her shaved mons still making exaggerated slurping noises and occasional exclamations as if he were praising a fine meal. "Sweet! Fresh! A natural delight. A hint of the salty sea...a perfect explosion on my palate."
Mae had laughed so hard that it made it difficult to concentrate on the pleasure he was bringing to her responsive body. Finally, she begged him to "please stop making me laugh so I can concentrate!" And he did. And she did.
Mae had come to adore the many different ways she and Nick made love. One night it was silent passion--ravenous and fast-paced--another would be slow and languid with long stretches of soft touches and well chosen words to excite and tantalize. He could tease and be playful, too, and that brought out the best in Mae who was a woman who craved a little lightness in her purposeful life.
Mae tossed off her reverie as he approached her. "Mae, can you take a minute and come to my office?"
"Sure. Let me just save this." Mae noticed a very serious look on Nick's face. "Is something wrong?"
"Just come on up when you're ready," he said as he turned to go back up to the 'cage'.
Moments later Mae was seated in front of him. She hadn't spent a lot of time across from his desk and the formality of it struck her with foreboding. This is going to be it. He's going to tell me he's leaving here in the office so there won't be any scenes. Not to worry Nick, I've been preparing for this for weeks. But no amount of mental preparation could keep the lump from rising in her throat as she waited for him to speak.
"I have something to tell you. But before I do, I want you to know that I wanted to tell you this for quite a while."
Mae's eyes widened. Is this going to be some sort of proposition? Is he going to tell me he loves me and wants me to go with him? Her head began to spin with anticipation. Yes, Nick, yes I will!
"Kurt Gander is my uncle. We more or less grew up together as brothers."
Mae's emotions did a one-eighty. She couldn't quite wrap her mind around what he was saying as she had just admitted to herself that she desperately wanted to have a life with this man. Until this point she hadn't given voice to her feelings--not even to herself. She tried to focus on what he was telling her.
"My last name is different because, as I've told you, my mother was Spanish. It's their custom for the children to have the maternal name. Hence, the Seville."
No, it isn't a proposition. It isn't about me at all. What the hell is he talking about?
"We've both worked for the Elysium chain for years. When Kurt needed to leave, he asked me to come and fill in for him. He knew I was retiring from San Francisco and figured I could take a little time to help him out."
"I don't really understand," Mae mumbled. I don't understand anything at all. "Why didn't you tell me this at the beginning and why are you telling me now?"
"I'm telling you now because Kurt gave me permission to. Only a couple of people knew about this and we were sworn to secrecy." Her puzzled look prompted him to continue. "You see, Kurt needed a leave of absence and the only way he could convince management to allow him to come back was throwing me into the deal."
"But Claude offered me his job!"
"Management was not happy. Part of the deal was that you'd get the nod, if you wanted it. If you had taken the job, Kurt would have lost the position for good. And I would never have come to Singapore." An explosion of confusion played across Mae's face as she tried to process his words. "Frankly, I think Kurt knew you wouldn't take it."
"But why all the secrecy? Is he sick?" Suddenly another emotion jumped into Mae's psyche--that her friend and mentor might be terribly ill.
"No. No. This was just something he needed to do for himself. He didn't want any of the staff to know." He paused and began his story. "When Kurt came to Singapore about ten years ago, he was quite a different man than the one you know. He was full of joy. Always laughing."
"You know I adore the man, but you're right. He's not exactly happy-go-lucky."
"Shortly after he took the job here, he had an affair with an assistant pastry chef. She was just out of culinary school and about ten years younger than Kurt. At that point in his life and career, he was very much committed to devoting himself to his profession. He never expected to fall in love with Bernie."
"Bernie?"
"Bernadette. She stole his heart
. By the time he realized how much he loved her and that he wanted to spend his life with her, she was gone. She just left without explanation. Kurt was devastated."
"I'm aware that he had his heart broken. It's kind of a legend in the kitchen. He never spoke a word about it to anyone. But people talk." Mae looked at Nick with new eyes and realized that her heart was breaking, too. "Tell me what this has to do with Kurt's absence."
"Well, he never really recovered. Never had another serious girlfriend, just some drunken rolls in the hay once in a blue moon."
"I witnessed an attempt at one of those."
Nick frowned "Did Kurt make a pass at you?"
"No, he groped Cess at a party a couple of years back." She laughed a brittle little laugh. Cess and I talked about it the night you and I first 'played' in the pool. "Cess didn't appreciate it."
"I was seriously concerned that he was going to go over the edge. Possibly drink himself to death. But eventually he just went on. Only he changed. He never let anyone close again. And he lost one of the best parts of himself--the ability to love."
"Are you going to tell me what this story has to do with him leaving?" Because I have some real thinking to do and I need you to wrap this up.
"Every so often, Kurt would do a web search on Bernie's name. It never got him anywhere. Then, a couple of months ago, he came up with an article for an online paper in Panama. It was the story of Bernadette and her business in a town called Boquete. He took off to find her as quickly as he could make arrangements with me and the Elysium."
Mae looked blankly at Nick as it dawned on her that not only had Kurt wronged her by allowing her to worry (and work herself half to death) but Nick had perpetuated the deceit. "You knew how much I worried about Kurt. We talked about it. Often. I actually cried about him one night after we made...had sex." She couldn't bring herself to call it love making. That would presume too much.