by Falls, K. C.
"What?"
"I've never made love with a man like I did with Nick. It can't be my imagination that there was something different for him too."
"Poor dear you. I wish there was something I could say to make it better. But I can't. Time is the only thing. Sad to say because it's so trite, but you know that eventually you will get over him. You're lucky he's going to leave soon. At least you won't have to see him all the time."
"Somehow that doesn't sound all that great to me."
"Any word on when Kurt's coming back?"
"No, but it can't be soon enough for me. I dread having to face Nick. We managed to avoid one another today, but we won't be able to do that every day." Mae pressed her palms into her still throbbing temples. "You know, I read somewhere that it is possible to die of a broken heart."
"Oh my giddy aunt! Now you're just being melodramatic. You'll immerse yourself in that hell's kitchen you call a job and pretty soon, Bob's your uncle, you'll be just fine."
Mae had to laugh at that. Trust Cess to eke a chuckle out of her with her bizarre Britishisms. "Just who is this uncle Bob and is he the reason your aunt is so giddy?" It was an old joke between them, but it lightened Mae's mood. They sipped their tea in the comforting warmth of a friendship that had endured more than a few dark moments.
By the time they had devoured their scones with generous lashings of cream and jam, Mae felt a lot better. Cess's philosophical attitude about the mystery of men and women nudged Mae's despair into something a little easier to bear. Cess was far more worldly than Mae and her 'this too shall pass' council lifted Mae's spirits.
As they parted, Cess offered a last nugget of advice. "Now you've made the break, don't weaken. You know it will only make things worse. Keep your distance and don't let him get into your knickers again."
Mae gave her friend a big hug. "Thanks for the words of wisdom. I'll guard my 'knickers' I promise."
***
Nick was miserable. Miserable and very angry. Hurt, rejected, wounded and just plain pissed off. He slammed his fist into the desk, picked up a ledger and threw it across the room. He reached up to the shelf where Kurt kept his aged single malt and swigged several ounces of liquor straight from the bottle. Dinner service was just gearing up and it wasn't a good time to be drinking but what the hell. He'd come in late only after he had steeled himself to face her. But Mae had already left.
How can she just dismiss me like that? So I didn't tell her what I knew about Kurt. What was I supposed to do? She's unreasonable. She's being stubborn. She's overreacting. This was just some inconsequential fling to her. How can she make so much out of this?
How did she put it? A lie of omission. Good God. I didn't realize that fucking someone obligated you to betray an oath to family. Damn bitch. Uses me and then ditches me over something as ridiculous as this. It's not like I meant anything to her. I don't OWE her a thing. There were no promises. Not a word was spoken.
And then it hit him. Not a word was spoken. How many opportunities had there been to tell her what he felt that he let slip away from him? How many times had he bitten his tongue when he wanted to let her know that she had become more than just a casual affair? He was the one with the agenda, with the schedule. He was the one who came with a built in good-bye. He was the one who pictured her bent over a farmhouse stove, barefoot in the herb garden, laughing at bickering hens when she gathered their eggs and never said a word. Had he expected her to read his mind?
I could have tried. I could have trusted. Could have taken a chance. God. I've never had a face in my fantasy world. Just the vague notion that someday I wanted a mate. I wanted someone to share the dream and never gave her a face. Until now.
His head reeled with the possibility that the one woman who stepped out of the fog to occupy his dream was lost to him. Maybe he never could have had her. Maybe the notion that he meant something more to her than she admitted was all in his imagination.
No. No. That can't be. There are things that can't be faked. I know the difference between a friendly fuck and something else. We had something else. We became more than lovers. We became friends. The once in a lifetime kind of friendship between a man and a woman who slide like puzzle pieces into one another.
He went over the 'scene' they had about Kurt. How could she feel so betrayed if she regarded me as nothing more than a passing thing? It wouldn't have been that important to her. I couldn't have let her down if there was nothing to descend from. She's using this as an excuse to put some distance between us. That's it! She's putting up a barrier so that she can handle the situation better.
What was it she said? "We don't have the luxury of working through this." She was telling me she couldn't invest herself. Couldn't talk it out.
Naw. I'm trying to invent something that doesn't exist. I'm just a nice playmate. We managed to become friends and that's been great. But she'll barely notice it when I'm gone. She'll just go looking for another guy to bang. She'll probably make sure he really is a guest next time though.
Nick's thoughts were waves crashing on the shore of his psyche. In and out they went rolling over him, unstoppable and unpredictable. This is why they call her Chef 'Maybe' Well, she is one question mark of a woman for sure. But, come what may, Mae, I will have an answer.
***
Nick was so lost in his reverie that he didn't hear the first knock on the door. Claude tapped a little harder and Nick called for him to come in.
"Chef, I have some welcome news for you. I just got an email from Kurt. We can expect him back within the week. I know how anxious you are to get on with your plans so I came to tell you straight away."
"Oh. A week? I didn't really expect him so soon. When I talked to him the other day he said he still had some things to wrap up." Now Nick was thrown once again. I didn't expect him back so fast. I thought I'd have time...
"I'm afraid I can't shed much light on what the situation is. He just said 'Be back in the saddle in a week or sooner if I can swing it. Until then...off grid."
"Off grid? What's that supposed to mean?" Nick was a bit annoyed that Kurt hadn't let him in on what was happening and chose instead to send a cryptic note to Claude.
"Your guess is as good as mine. Do you want me to inform the staff?"
"No. If it's all the same to you, I'd like to handle it."
"It isn't strictly necessary to tell them if you think that's a better tactic. After all, we don't know exactly what he wants anyone to know about where he's been. As much of a mystery as his departure was, I can't see that his return will be any worse a surprise."
"That's okay, Claude. I'll handle it. If I don't do it exactly the way he would want me to, too bad. It'll be on my shoulders and those shoulders will be halfway around the world."
"Thanks. That's a relief for me. Your uncle can be a bit of a tyrant when it suits him. I'd rather not take the risk of bringing out the bear, if you know what I mean."
"I guess it runs in the family."
"Not at all, Nick. It's been a real pleasure to have you here. Everyone finds you easy to work with. In the short time you've been with us, you've earned the respect of the entire staff."
"Thanks, Claude. I do appreciate it. It's hard to believe that my time with the Elysium Hotels is coming to an end."
"I wish Kurt had given us a definite arrival date. As it is, you can't really make any travel arrangements."
"No one ever accused Kurt of being overly considerate."
"You know, it really doesn't matter. A day or two, give or take, won't make any difference. Mae held the fort for more than a week before you arrived and I'm sure she can do it again. Why don't you go ahead and book your flight. You've already gone the extra mile for us. I think we owe it to you to let you be on your merry way, so to speak."
"Thanks, Claude. I'll keep you posted on whatever I decide to do."
After Claude left, Nick absentmindedly pulled up his favorite travel site and looked at his options. Singapore to Tokyo, Tokyo to Washing
ton, Washington to Charlotte. He considered going the other way, stopping in Europe to see his mother. He could meet her in Paris. Lots of flight choices there. Singapore to Shanghai, Shanghai to Paris. Or Singapore to Doha, Doha to Paris.
He thought about his mother, the beautiful and charming Maria Seville. In spite of all her flaws and her frequent absences he adored her just as his father had. His father had likened her to a beautiful wild cat that needed to roam but came home to purr. Both he and Nick were content to know that she loved them both with all her heart. There was no doubt that she had been utterly faithful to his father and that he, her only child, was as precious to her as life itself.
Was his mother one of the reasons he was so drawn to Mae? For all the obvious differences between the two women, there were undeniable similarities--the love of exotic places, the fierce independence, perhaps even the slightly promiscuous bent. It was no secret that Maria had broken several hearts before settling down with his father.
Nick had an irrational desire to take Mae to his mother. To have his mother's stamp of approval on the only woman he ever even considered bringing 'home'. For where ever she was in the world, to Nick 'mother' would always mean home.
Suddenly, Mae was back at the forefront of his thoughts. He went to the window to see if she had returned to the kitchen and saw her sitting at her makeshift desk in street clothes. It was a slow night and he presumed that she was just checking her plans for the next day.
Act now. Act now. Do it, Nicky-boy. The clock is ticking. Take the leap, man!
He nearly bolted down the steps into the kitchen. She looked up at him from the shabby little chair and stopped him dead in his tracks. To Nick, the look on her face was colder than the night he found her half-frozen in the kitchen. His resolve withered under her frigid blue gaze.
What am I thinking? What did I think I was going to say to her in the middle of the dinner service?
He managed a weak half-smile and turned partially toward the line where the cooks were pushing the few remaining orders out the window.
"I've got an announcement, everybody." He watched her face carefully as he spoke. "Claude has just informed me that Kurt will be back with you in a week or less. I'm afraid I don't know much more than that, but soon enough you'll be able to ask him all the questions you want about where he's been and what he's been up to."
Mae remained expressionless. A blank slate. "After all the worry he's put you through," he said almost directly to Mae, "I think you all deserve to take him to task."
Mae flipped her little notebook closed and walked out of the kitchen without a word.
***
Her heels clicked a desperate rhythm in the darkness. She felt almost faint. The pain was unbearable. Cess was wrong. Mae was sure it was possible to die of heartbreak. Time won't erase this, Cess.
He's leaving. Oh god, he's leaving for good. Please let this be over. I don't know how I can stand another week. I don't know how to deal with this. I've never felt anything that hurt like this. Where can I hide? What can I do?
She made it back to her room in just enough time to run to the bathroom and heave high tea right into the commode. Cold sweat was pouring down her back as she retched and cried into the toilet. Finally, she stood up, brushed her teeth and looked at her once again puffy, wept-out face. The cold water she splashed on her angry skin helped a little. Listlessly, she stepped out of her clothes and left them in a pile where they fell.
She wrapped a well worn compliments-of-the-Elysium terry robe around her and sat down on the edge of the bed. She absently flicked the TV on to some absurd cooking show where the cooks were expected to make dessert out of matzo crackers, lychees, butterscotch candies and cheddar cheese. One of the competitors was a very good looking dark-haired man who wore a bandana around his head. Just like Nick.
She flipped the channel and there was a couple in a lip-lock against a tropical landscape. Not good.
Finally she settled on a bland travel log about Argentina. But then she started hearing "Don't cry for me, Argentina" playing in her mind and tears started slipping down her cheeks again. This is absurd. It isn't even a love song.
She turned the set off and picked up a notepad thinking she might start roughing out a recipe for wild mushroom and white asparagus risotto. Even though she never needed a recipe for this kind of thing, she tried to write everything down so that anyone could duplicate the dish when she wasn't around. She tried to think about the proportions of each ingredient but it was no use. She couldn't concentrate. Finally, she phoned Cess.
"What's up little sister?" Cess's ever cheerful greeting was small comfort.
"Kurt's on his way back, Cess. Nick announced that he'll be here within a week."
"Well, that's fine for you, then. Good riddance to bad rubbish."
"Be fair. He isn't 'rubbish' This whole mess is my fault. I allowed myself to fall in love with him. He never tried to mislead me as to his plans."
"He lied to you! Twice."
"I hardly gave him a chance to tell me the truth the first time. I practically served myself up to him. And the second...well, I can't really blame him for that either. He asked me what I would have done and to tell you the truth, I wouldn't have told me about Kurt's situation either."
"Good lord. Now you're making every excuse you can. Go ahead if it makes you feel better."
"All I'm trying to say is that if you, for instance, swore me to secrecy I wouldn't spill the beans to some casual lover no matter what."
"Mae, darling, I feel responsible for goading you into having at the man in the first place. I'm very sorry that I encouraged you to do something so out of character."
"Please don't blame yourself. Last time I checked I was a full-fledged adult woman. The fact that I seem singularly unable to have a little fun without getting all ridiculous is...well, it's just..."
"It's you. It's your nature and I'm willing to admit that there's probably nothing you can do to change it. You're pretty much a serious person. Serious about your career, serious about your life and serious about love."
"But that's part of the hell of this! Believe it or not, I did have a lot of fun with Nick. I laughed and played. There were plenty of times that I wasn't at all serious. It just sort of sneaked up on me and hit me that I didn't want to see it end. That I didn't want to let go."
"I wish I could be more help. I really do. I know we're just about the same age, but I swear sometimes I feel a million years older. He will go. You will stay. And, you will live. Someday there will be someone who doesn't go and that will be the right one."
"I hope you're right. Because I have to confess that knowing Nick, loving Nick, has made me realize that I do want someone permanent in my life. I want a home. I want a mate--for life."
"If that's the case, then all the heartbreak has been worth it. You've made a discovery about yourself. A wind to direct your sail. Better that than to be flapping about in the breeze like I am."
"I guess there is some solace in that thought. But right now I can't imagine ever feeling about anyone else the way I feel about Nick."
***
By the time the kitchen had pretty much cleared out, Nick was staring at an empty bottle that once held Kurt's very old, very expensive Scotch. After Mae left the kitchen so abruptly he had retreated to the 'cave' and set about drinking away the thought of her. Of course, it didn't work. In fact it made it worse as alcohol tends to do.
He was well on his way to being quite drunk. Drunk and confused. He convinced himself that she had turned her feelings for him off completely. Then he convinced himself that she secretly loved him.
And, being in his cups, he was also horny. Not that he could have done much about that either, being unsure if he could even stand up at the moment. But images of their bodies together were running through his head like some very nicely done porn movie. No bad editing or poorly conceived plots, though. Just pure sweet and perfect images of her underneath him, glowing with exertion as he pummeled his
hard dick into her. Of Mae's full lips wrapped around the head of his cock and her fingers pulling hard on the shaft. Of her pussy dripping into his mouth as she moaned her pleasure. Of her small perfect ass lifted up to him--a presentation of delightful promise.
"Boss?" Tank occupied the doorway completely. "I'm gonna run now. You want I should lock the coolers?"
"Sure, Tank. That'll be fine." Nick focused one bleary eye on the giant.
"You okay, Chef?"
"Just been drinkin' a little," Nick slurred. "But I'm not driving. Don't figgir I could crash the elevator." Nick chuckled at his own not very funny joke.
"I guess you've got a right to slam a few back, Chef. Kurt's comin' back is kind of the end of an era for you, isn't it?"
"Yep. That's sure what it is. The end of an era."
"How long've you been working for the Elys?"
"I dunno...a very long time." Nick's head wasn't in any shape to count the years.
"I kinda envy you. I'd love to have my own show somewhere. Someday. I mean I enjoy the work here, but to be the 'real' boss, to own my own place. I think I'd like that."
"It's been a long time coming."
"You know, I think some people are just better at the corporate shit than I am. I gotta fight with myself all the time to keep my trap shut. But some people are just natural diplomats and can tow the line, like Mae."
"Ah, yes. Mae. The little chef that could."
"She sure can. That girl's golden."
"I bet she has a fine time for herself in this hotel."
"She don't complain."
"Who would? I mean she's got a great job and the benefits can't be beat."
"We got good benefits, that's true. Not many hotels have it better."
"That's not eggzackly what I meant." Nick eyed the empty bottle hoping it had somehow magically refilled itself. "I mean...cute little piece like that has plenty of meat passing through those fancy front doors."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"You know, plenty of rich businessmen, trust fund babies seeing the world, the occasional celebrity. I know all about it. Jeez, in San Fran I could get laid by a woman, man or both every night of the week. A lady chef, god that's gotta be even better."