Tammy Sue sighed heavily. “I haven’t seen him since he took off for college, thank God. I still can’t believe that you and he ever… I mean, he was a total homophobe. I hope he does show up because I have some things I would like to say to him now.” She walked the pan over and slid it into the oven. “Still hot.”
“I think he just hated himself, to be honest.” I began cleaning my fruit. “Time and baking have been my best friend, I guess. I’m over all of that. Besides, he never called me a… you know. He was just a bully and an asshole to everyone and could totally getaway with it because he was the star quarterback and too fucking good-looking for his own good.”
“God, hewaspretty. But he was a total dick. I can’t believe we were ever friends with him. You used to follow him around like a puppy – which totally makes sense now that I know everything.”
“I wouldn’t put up with that shit now.” I sliced through a strawberry. “Ben just… He got under my skin, I guess, and I always hoped that he’d change back to the way he used to be when we… When I gave him that blowjob in the tent. But he didn’t, and now he can suck my dick. Make sure you don’t over-stir that dough when you begin the small pumpkin bread.”
“Have it your way lover of straight boys. Oh, by the way…” She looked over at the counter. “We got another one of those… uh… flyers.”
“I’ll throw it away later. We are not for sale. I didn’t move back here to just throw it away.”
“Susie’s Dress Emporium has agreed, apparently. She signed the intent to sell contract. That’s the gossip anyway.”
“Did Evelyn or Reuben tell you? Either way, it doesn’t matter. If they want to build a giant mega-hotel here, they will have to build it around my shop. This place is not for sale.”
“From what I heard, they added another zero to get Susie to sign. She was dead set against it at first, and now... Money talks, I guess.”
“You know, running a small family-owned business is hard enough without a conglomerate trying to buy it from you.” I started dicing up my banana.
“Even if the price is right, Perce?”
I stopped and looked up at her, and nodded. “Even then. I gave up everything I had to come back here. I’m not throwing it away that easily. I plan on keeping Foggy Basin as weird as I can. Fuck those greedy corporate monsters.”
“There’s my best friend! We’re gonna need that fire to make this place a success. Let’s just hope the oven keeps working!”
2
Ben
Whenever the President of Boyd, Hollman, and Brooke asked you to come to their office, a sense of dread and fear took over. Most people disappeared quickly after a trip “upstairs,” and my stomach had risen all the way to my head. I was an exemplary employee, goddammit. I was on time, and I had overseen three huge projects for them. My current one was right on track to finish on time and come in under budget. Why the fuck would they want to get rid of me? Downsizing for a company that was growing by leaps and bounds? It wasn’t right.
I must have pissed the wrong person off. It was a hard job, but I loved it. Hell, I thought I was even on track to become a partner in the firm one of these days. This had been a dream job, and I hoped that dream didn’t turn into a fucking nightmare. I just bought a three-million-dollar condo!
This wasn’t fair. The elevator dinged, and I stepped out onto the top floor of our twenty-three-story building. Glass walls that let you look out onto the nightmare of San Francisco trafficsurrounded me. It was awe-inspiring and panic-inducing at the same time.
“He’s waiting for you, Ben.” Shirley looked up from her computer screen and started typing furiously.
“What’s his mood?” I asked, trying to get the lay of the land.
“Unpleasant, so fairly normal.” She shrugged.
“Any idea what this is about?”
“Not a clue. I heard him scream, and then he told me to tell you to get your ass up here. Good luck, kid.” She winked. “I like you.”
“Thanks,” I let out the breath I had been holding since getting in the elevator—that’s what it felt like anyway—and knocked on the door.
“Ben!” Mister Boyd barked loudly. “Come in.”
I took a deep breath before I turned the giant round handle on the grand oak doors and pushed gently. Mister Boyd was not in the room alone. This was definitely not going to be a good meeting.
“Have a seat, Ben.” He frowned and crossed his arms as he stood behind his desk. “Now that he’s finally here, let’s begin.”
I glanced around the room to see the other owners, Larry Hollman and Andrew Brooke, sitting beside Mister Boyd’s desk. They had offices a level below because there was only one president of this conglomeration, and that was the gentleman looking at me very angrily behind his desk. A couple of lower-level vice presidents sat on the other side of the desk. I walked over; my feet felt sluggish, but I sat down in the chair directly in front of his desk and gripped the wooden armrests.
“How long have you been with us, Ben?” He turned to look out at the large glass wall overlooking the Painted Ladies across the park.
I cleared my throat. “Five years, Sir.”
