Cake Love: All Things Payne (3 page)

Hi-Ed-Junior:
It's settled. What's your name? I told you mine; it's only fair you tell me yours.

Hmm, that was the part I didn't mind so much, not knowing names. What if he turns out to be completely lame, then he might be able to find me based on my name. Not that many Morganas in the Chicago area.

Me:
It's Morgan.

It's partially true. So I left off the ‘a’ at the end. Some people spell their name Ann instead of Anne, what's the difference? Stop judging me!

Hi-Ed-Junior:
Okay Morgan I'll see you Sunday at ten.

We chat for a little while after that. I find out he used to take Improv classes at Second City when he was in college. The discussion turns serious when we debate how the Coen brothers would do if they directed by themselves. I couldn't tell from the writing but I have a feeling Ric might have been crying at one point.

I end up falling asleep during our discussion and wake up Friday morning with my hand on the keyboard, the other down my pants, and my glasses covering my nose.

Chapter 3

Morgana's Problem: Her Job

"Ms. Drake! My office. NOW."

My head whips around from my computer to see Mr. Payne's door closing with a slam.

Either the coffee was too cold this morning, or I am dressed inappropriately for the office again. He always gets slammy with the door when those two things have happened.

Looking down at my gray cashmere dress I realize it's a crew neck. No showing off the ta-ta's today. Guess I will just have to hike up the hemline enough when I sit to show off my thigh high stockings. Yeah, that will add salt to the wound.

Getting up I walk over and throw open the door. The thud of it crashing into the wall stirs him from his typing and the blue of his eyes disappear as his eyelids form a slit. He hates to have to look at me, I know it. Look, baby, look at what you can't have or could have if you tried. Please try. Damn, I'm pathetic.

Bringing myself over to the chair I glide into the soft tan cushioned seat with ease. I prepare for the Payne attack by lifting and adjusting what is needed.

His eyes fall to my legs as I cross them. Mr. Payne's hand runs through his hair and he grumbles something. He refocuses on the computer as he addresses me, "Ms. Drake something has come to my attention that is extremely serious."

Oh God I knew that YouTube sex video of me would be found sooner or later. He is probably chomping at the bit to fire me. Pissed off about all these teasing games I play with him and now he has evidence to lay into me. Why, oh why, did my idiot ex-boyfriend Trevor think it was a good idea to film us having sex? If he had just told me about it I would have pointed out the utter stupidity of his logic.

I liked Trevor Trance. No, that's not true, I loved him. We were fresh out of college when we met and I thought he was the one. I know, very naive on my part but what can I say, I was young. We were together for three years. He was everything to me.

One day I came home from working as Sales Manager at VonCroy Department Store, tired and cranky. When I walked in the bedroom he had sprinkled the bed with rose petals, and candles were lit everywhere. I thought that he was finally going to propose to me. When he walked over with a new red lace nightie for me to put on I got so excited. I remember racing into the bathroom to put on the negligee and practicing my "Yes, I'll marry you!" face.

After the terrible sex (no amount of romance can make up for being an awful lover) where he just kept looking over at the dresser making faces and not paying any attention to me, I laid on the bed waiting for the ring. After a while I went into the kitchen to get some water and he yelled out to get him some too. I thought maybe he is stalling to get the ring out. When I came back to the bedroom he was sound asleep. Then a week later Aria (who watches YouTube porn all the time - don't ask) pointed out a video that looked a lot like Trevor and me. I freaked and confronted him. Needless to say he was quite proud of the shoddy production and I finally kicked him out of my life. I started to go by my middle name because Mr. Douchebag used our first names on the video title.

It has been five years, and I thought that video would die away. Now I sit here in Mr. Payne's office trying to pull my dress over my knees, hoping I don't get fired.

"Look Mr. Payne, it was a long time ago. I didn't even realize I was being filmed."

His clicking with the mouse stops as he turns to look at me; his face scrunches up in confusion.

"What are you talking about? The serious matter is about our London office. What we have been working late for all week."

D’oh!

I nod furiously as if that is what I am referring to.

"Of course, yes. I knew that."

He is squinting at me again. My confusion is adding to his irritation, well at least I know he isn't about to fire me.

“Anyway Ms. Drake, we have to fly to London for emergency meetings. We are expected there by Monday. I know this is very short notice, but Mr. Mimir's assistant, Kara, has taken care of the flight and hotel arrangements. I assume your passport up to date."

I sit in shock. The good kind of shock because it's London baby! I have never been to London or anywhere in Europe, or anywhere other than Canada. Aria and I decided a few years ago to visit Vancouver for a girl’s weekend. That city is gorgeous and we had a great time, but I always dreamed of flying overseas.

"Yes Mr. Payne."

"Good. The flight leaves Sunday evening, Kara will email you the specifics. Mr. Jacob Mimir and his assistant, Kara, Mr. Edgar Mimir and his assistant, John, and you and I will all meet for dinner on Monday at a later specified restaurant at 6:30 local time to discuss the events of the week. That is all."

He is waving the back of his hand at me as if shooing a fly. I get up to leave but right as I am at the door I hear Mr. Payne, "Ms. Drake. I know in order to be considered for the Executive Development Program here you have to have been employed with us for a year. Sometimes an exceptional employee has made it in after six months. If you show both Jacob and Edgar Mimir, on this trip how dedicated you are to the company, I know they will accept my recommendation to let you enter the program early."

He goes back to typing and flicks his hand at me again. In a heart-fluttery-rainbows-and-butterflies haze I walk back to my desk and sit. Mr. Payne has never paid me a compliment before, let alone talked about recommending me early into the program. The best I ever got from him was a grumble and nod after he took a sip of his morning coffee. Wait, that's not totally true. Let me rephrase that, he has never paid me a compliment about my work before.

This is the whole reason I have stayed his assistant for so long, the Executive Development Program. After I complete that I can practically have any job in the company I want. I have been planning for this since college. When Mimir created this program ten years ago, my whole career path has been centered on getting a job that will lead to this program.

My dream is to be Mr. Payne or any of the top executives at Mimir. I want to have a position with this company that is so vital, without me it would come close to falling apart. That may sound a tad narcissistic but hear me out. How many times has a boss or teacher or parent given you a pitiful look as you told them about an idea? I can’t count the number of times people in charge thought I had two heads just because I thought outside the box. My ideas were always sound and I put effort into them, only to be dismissed like a child.

When Trevor took advantage of my trust I realized it was time to focus on my goal of proving to the people around me that not only am I smart, but I am a woman to be taken seriously. Therefore I stopped dating and put all my energy into building up my resume, knowing who I wanted to impress. So, when I found out Mr. Payne needed an executive assistant late last year I jumped at the chance to interview. Sure, it's been hell but I just keep my eye on the prize.

I have been here about four months and he already wants me to move forward! Perhaps he doesn't hate me. Or, he just wants to get rid of me. He knows how liked I am around here, especially by the Mimir brothers. This is his one chance to get away from me. That must be it. Well, no problem for me. I won't have to see his face every day once I am in the program.

No more wondering if he might grab me at my hips and pin me to his desk to have his way with me. No more spanking. No more fucking me on a conference table, making me have multiple orgasms. Wait, why don't I want that?

"Focus Morgana. You can see the finish line; don't let Heart and Vagina cloud your judgment."
Brain points out.

"I know Brain; it's all we worked for. I'll try, I promise."

Brain nods.

"Good girl. It helps to focus on the bad things he did. Let me just bring those files up on my screen. Ah...there we go."
Brain types away on her computer.

No more of him telling me it was all a mistake. He won’t have to ignore me anymore. No more fetching his coffee like a dog. Now is my chance to never have to deal with him again. As excited as I am by the program, there is a part of me that is sad I may never see him again.

I lean back in my chair and break out my cell phone to call Aria.

"Hey what's up?"

“Bring home some champagne from work tonight Aria, we’re celebrating!”

Aria works at a bar. She works the day shifts during the week, which aren't best for making money but they give her Saturday nights, so it all evens out. Since her paintings don't sell enough to make rent, bartending helps.

"What's the occasion, little one?"

"I may be entering the Executive Development Program early, AND I am going to London next week!"

I attach a scream at the end of that sentence and I can hear Aria screaming on the other end. She may not be into business but she knows how important this is to me.

"Oh girl! I am bringing home the good stuff! Actual champagne, not that sparkling wine crap we settle for. We’re drinking the real deal tonight!”

"Yeah! Well, I got to go. I just wanted to let you know. I'll see you tonight for our celebration!"

"Sounds good. Aria out."

I hear the click and know she's gone. As I am putting my phone back into my purse I hear Mr. Payne's door click open.

"Ms. Drake. Print out the merchant contracts for Great Britain for the past two years. Clear my schedule for the rest of the day. We need to go through each contract to make sure there isn't anything that might conflict with the new laws."

"Shouldn't Legal being doing that?"

He’s curling his hand making his knuckles white while gritting his teeth. After taking a deep breath Mr. Payne speaks to me, "Of course they are, but we need to be on top of everything. You better learn this now Ms. Drake, the more you know the less likely someone will take advantage or worse, destroy you."

I just stare at him. I think someone has a few control issues.

"Yes Mr. Payne. I will get right on it."

He steps back inside his office shutting the door when it stops midway and opens again. Mr. Payne pops his head back out.

"Oh, Ms. Drake, we'll be working late again tonight so order food for dinner."

The door slams shut and I groan. Great, another night of cold pizza. Yippie!

Chapter 4

Morgana's Problem: Her Family

I have been battling a hangover all morning. Due to the champagne festivities that occurred between me, Aria, and a few bottles of bubbly sweet goodness, I want to curl up in a hot bath and go to sleep. Unfortunately that will cause me to drown, so I decide on a shower instead.

As I let the hot spray massage my throbbing head I hear a pounding at the glass door of the shower. Jumping and almost killing myself due to a ceramic tile attacking my head, I open the door a few inches to see Aria wide eyed staring back.

"God Aria! Can't you just say something before you bang on the shower door? If you keep this up I'm going to die wet and naked." That would be so much better if a man were involved.

"How else am I to get your attention? Anyway your mom called, she wants you to pick up some groceries on your way over later."

I shut off the shower. No amount of water massage will cure me of this headache that is ten times worse thanks to the Aria invasion.

"Why did you answer my phone again?"

I step out as she hands me a towel and walks over to the toilet to do her business. She shrugs her shoulders while seated and I hear the spray of liquid coming from beneath her.

"How else are you going to know who is calling? Plus, what if it was an emergency?"

I dig under the sink for my hair dryer and plug it into the wall, but pause before turning to face her.

"I would know who called by seeing a missed call on my phone. If it was an emergency they would have left a message and after my ten minute shower I would have gotten the message. Boundaries, Aria!"

I turn the dryer on and start to work on my long red hair. Aria is behind me in the mirror mouthing something. I shut off the hair dryer to hear.

"What?"

"You talk about boundaries Morgana, but I do not think you know what that word means."

I shake my head in confusion.

"What? It means don't touch my stuff!"

She chuckles as she walks out of the bathroom and I see the back of her head shake.

"No it means a gift or reward."

Oh Aria, no. Just no.

Before I can correct her that she means the word bounty, she's left my bedroom. She has her own bathroom and yet she still insists on using mine. I don't know if she has used her bathroom once, but God forbid I ask her to help out in cleaning my bathroom. Only then she suddenly has her own bathroom to clean. Just thinking this makes me roll my eyes, which sets off my headache – again – thanks Aria!

After I finish getting ready, I call my mom back to get the specifics on the grocery list. I sometimes wonder if my parents didn't have children, would they have starved to death? The moment my brother and I could drive we were in charge of groceries and laundry. When my parents visit they bring laundry with them. I'm totally serious! I tell them all the time it should be the other way around, but they insist that their washer is on the fritz. How can a washer and dryer be broken for ten years?

After getting ready I head out the door to the store and pick up what my mother requested. Once I am at my parents' modest home in Evanston, just north of Chicago, I lug up the four heavy bags of groceries to the front door of the suburban two story home and hear mumbling inside. Lowering the bags I listen.

"She's here! Everyone act natural!" I can hear my mom yell at the top of her lungs. Guess I didn't really need to press my ear to the door.

I sigh and slump my shoulders. Why? Because I know what this 'dinner' is about. It's my surprise birthday party. Never mind that my thirtieth birthday was over a month ago, that isn't important to my mom. I was a preemie, born almost five weeks early. My mom's due date was April ninth, but I decided to show up March third. She refuses to accept that I came early. As hippy-dippy as my mother is, she is very much the perfectionist. She expects things to go exactly as she has planned. She intended on an April baby and damn it, she was going to have an April baby.

I open the door, pick up the bags, and drag them inside. My dad is sitting in his blue lazy-boy recliner watching the Cubs on TV and my brother with his 'girl of the moment' situated next to him on the lived in tan couch.

"No please, these aren't heavy. I don't need help," I mention as I drop the bags to the floor with a loud thud.

The men nod but stay fixated on the giant flat screened television hanging on the far wall that separates the family room from the kitchen. My father is a big man. I mean tall, muscular, but now a little more thick around the middle. The only man I have ever met that matched my father in build is Mr. Payne. Oh God, I hope I don't have a father complex. I shudder just thinking about it.

My dad kept the real loser guys away from me in high school and a bit in college, but once I lived on my own he lost his control. That's how Trevor got through. Guys up until that point treated me fairly well. No one ever cheated on me for fear of my dad and, as my brother got older, of him too. For my brother, Daniel, he not only has my father’s thick dark brown hair, but also his height and build.

You would think these big burly men would help a woman struggling with heavy bags; no it's my tiny mom with her thick mass of reddish-gray hair and freckles who comes to my rescue.

"Oh my love, let me help you. Don't mind the men; you know they turn into zombies when the Cubs play."

I lean in to my mom and whisper in her ear, "Who's with Daniel?"

"I think her name is Jessie or Janie. Definitely something with a J."

I glance over to the couch as we make our way into the kitchen and see the woman curl up on my brother’s arm. Poor woman, she has maybe a week, if she's lucky two more with him until he drops her like old cheese. Stinky old cheese.

My mom insists on putting the groceries away. Which I know is so I don't see inside the refrigerator, because she has a cake hidden in there. This will be the absolute highlight of the evening, my mom's cake. That shit is like crack with extra crack sprinkled on top and then baked in crack.

It could be my utter addiction to cake and cake like products (cupcakes, prepackaged snack cakes, etc.) talking but my mom's cake is the bomb and I plan on being a terrorist tonight! Too much? Yeah, maybe.

Looking around the brown kitchen that looks like it belongs in the nineteen-eighties and not the twenty-first century, I grab a seat on a stool by the tall honey colored table in the corner.

"So, love, what has been going on in..."

My mom is interrupted by someone coming down the stairs.

”How long am I to hide upstairs? I’m bored!” my grandma’s voice comes barreling down the stairs.

I hop up from the stool and run out to the hallway to give her a hug. Her dog, Orly, comes bounding down the steps from behind, ignoring everyone as usual and curling up by the fireplace near the dining room

"Grandma! You’re here! I thought you and Orly were in Yellowstone?"

Her arms encircle my waist as she gives a tight squeeze. The woman has a grip for someone so petite. Her shoulder length cobalt blue hair tickles my chin as I lean into her. That's right; my grandma is cool like that. It's her favorite color and she has been sporting blue hair long before it ever became stylish. My grandpa told me once that her nickname was ’Blue Goose’. I have no idea why she is called Goose, and a part of me doesn't ever want to know.

"That was just to trick you sweets! Your mom wanted to surprise you for your birthday. Did you bring that internet man of yours or that other one? Payne was it, the one you told me about a few months ago? I can't wait to meet him. It is a him right?"

I roll my eyes at her. My grandma has a bet with her knitting group that she meets with online (didn't know that was a thing, but there you go) that she has the most modern, hip family. So, since her kids are happily married, never divorced and her two grandkids, me and my brother, are both typical adults with nothing out of the ordinary happening in our lives, she is hoping I'm a homosexual or at least bi-sexual. Unfortunately for her I am neither, but she is still persistent.

"Yes, Grandma. But he isn't my man, he's my boss, remember I told you that."

"What's this I hear about a man? Morgana you have a man in your life?" My father’s voice barrels over the noise from the baseball game.

There is silence as I hear the television being switched off. I look over and see the men and 'about to be dumped' girl coming toward us. She is pretty with a short brown pixie cut and large gray eyes. They are all glaring at me as if I am a space alien who walked in and said hi.

"The man Grandma is referring to is my boss, Mr. Payne. There is nothing going on with us. The most that is happening is I am going on a trip to London with him next week for business. That’s all."

My father's jaw is twitching and he has raised his head as tall as he can get. Daniel glances at Dad and then mimics his behavior.

"What has this Payne done to you Morgana? Do I need to pay him a visit?"

My father is now cracking his knuckles and my brother tries desperately to do the same with no effect.

"Dad! No, why is everyone acting like I've been attacked? He's my boss. We don't always get along, but that happens a lot with bosses and their assistants."

"I don't think we’ve met, I'm Penny by the way." Daniel's eye candy extends her arm at the worst time as I shake it giving her a crooked smile.

"I could have sworn it started with a J," mom mumbles under her breath, shaking her head. She shrugs her shoulders and walks back into the kitchen.

Suddenly I am being pulled into a suffocating bear hug by my dad. He leans down to whisper in my ear, "If that man ever hurts my baby girl you let me know and I will speak to him."

I manage to break free from his death grip and nod.

"Fine Dad."

"That goes for me too, Sis." Daniel hits me on my back knocking the wind out of me for a few seconds. He isn't touchy-feely like my dad. The most I will get from Daniel is a slap to the head or wrist burn to show he cares.

"I'm going into the kitchen before I die," I squeak out, trying to catch my breath.

Sitting back on the bar stool I watch as my grandma pushes my mom aside to take over with the mashed potatoes.

"Annette, please let me help. You go spend some time with your daughter."

That is my grandma's way of telling my mom that she is doing it wrong. Mom’s a baker, but hates cooking, so she doesn’t mind grandma taking over. Makes no sense to me, but that's how she is. She comes and sits beside me trying to push some loose tendrils behind my ears.

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are Morgana?"

"All the time, Mom."

"Well, it's true. If that Mr. Payne can't see that then he isn't worth your energy."

It's going to be like this all night isn't it? Just focus on London, oh and your date tomorrow, and you will make it through this night.

"It doesn't matter about Mr. Payne, Mom, because I met a guy online anyway."

Her green eyes light up and she grins, transforming into a thirty-something right before my eyes. “Details Morgana! Tell me all about him!”

I blush and look down at my clasped hands.

"His name is Ric and he works retail, so we work in the same industry. He loves comedy movies like me. He is a big Coen brothers fan, and we are meeting tomorrow for coffee."

She is nodding her head.

"Yeah, so what does he look like?"

"I find out tomorrow. We haven't exchanged pictures yet. We want it to be a surprise."

She claps her hands together and looks over at my grandma who is still focused on the pots in front of her.

"How romantic. How will you know each other? Are you both going to wear carnations or something?"

"Umbrellas."

My mom scrunches her brow.

"How do you wear umbrellas? Is that new lingo for something else?"

"No, he's going to bring a blue plaid umbrella and I am going to bring my red umbrella."

"Oh I get it. I am so excited for you, love. You will have to tell me all about it. Did I tell you about how your father and I met?"

She looks dreamily off into the distance and I know there is no point in telling her that yes she has told me a hundred times how they met. So I just shrug in response.

"It was thirty five years ago and James and I worked together. We were just co-workers, but it was very frowned upon to have interoffice relations, especially in the military. Then one day we got trapped in the supply closet. Only we weren't trapped, he purposely locked us in there to be alone with me."

My mom sighs while I hear my grandma snort.

"Let's just say there was no going back to being just co-workers after we got out. Sooooo romantic."

I shake my head at my mom.

"How is that romantic Mom, he held you prisoner in a closet and then lied about how you both were in there?"

"Well, I thought it was romantic. I am sure you will one day look back on how you and your future husband meet as the most romantic time of your life."