Beyond Love - Chapter 47: Chapter 47

"We're closed for today. What do you want?"
I drifted toward the window looking into the bakery and peered in, curious. It would be strange for customers to enter despite knowing that the bakery was closed, unless it was an urgent matter or some pre-order that they couldn't wait till tomorrow morning. In those cases, we'd let it slide but from the way Shea had spoken to the stranger, they probably didn't seem like a customer to her.
At once, I understood why.
Standing in front of the display counter and drumming her fingers on top of it was a lady dressed in ARCD's signature pink uniform, which primarily featured a bright magenta apron that anyone could spot from afar.
"Hi! Hello," I slipped out of the kitchen and into the bakery to greet her, dusting my floury hands on the back of my apron. "How can we help you?"
Shea turned to me with a look of outrage, eyes betraying a hidden resolve of kicking the guest out of the bakery. Below the counter, her middle finger was curiously pointed upwards.
"I'm Chip, by the way." Gently, I pulled my sister aside and shooed her back into the kitchen before she could turn into an angry apple and concoct a pot of poisonous ideas. "So, um. What's the matter?"
The lady extended a hand. "Park. ARCD's financial manager. Pleasure." I shook it, surprised by the curt introduction. "I've been tasked to discuss matters regarding the libellous video by private settlement. Do you have some time?"
I blinked at the weighted words, unsure what she meant. "Oh! Well, sure. If you don't mind the kitchen...um. We were in the middle of cleaning up, you see."
"That will do," she nodded, waiting for me to lead the way. Increasingly confused and afraid that this had something, again, to do with the Internet or social media, I quickly showed her to the back of the kitchen and called Shea along before drawing a partition between the work area and the tiny pantry for staff members—which was really just a curtain that Rose put up a couple of years back.
Admittedly, the kitchen was lacking in furnishing and design; something that Miss Park seemed to notice as well, from the way she gave her surroundings a sweeping glance as I escorted her to the back of the kitchen. Simply put, she didn't look very impressed ;-;
"Please," I brought out a foldable chair and set it down before the table. "Have a seat." She did, eyeing Shea as she did so.
"And this is?"
"My chief baker," I introduced, turning to Shea. "Shea Honeycutt. Um, my sister."
"Pleasure," Shea extended her hand and knowing her, was most likely trying to imitate Miss Park by overexaggerating her mannerisms. Sometimes, I couldn't help but feel like Hansel and Shea were twins instead of, well, Gretel.
"What is it that you wish to discuss about?" I prompted again, taking a seat directly across ARCD's financial manager.
To my surprise, she produced a folder and opened it to reveal a set of documents. "I have a proposal regarding the video you put up exactly," she glanced at her wristwatch, "twenty-one hours ago. Please read it and let me know what you think about the conditions. You are required to take the video down, should you accept them. If you don't, well, I suppose ARCD will be seeing you in court."
I stared at the chunk of words squeezed uncomfortably close together and the numbered points that followed it, making an entire list that extended three and a half pages. Nothing seemed to make any sense.
"Hold up bitc—"
I stepped on my sister's foot. "Wait! There must be some sort of misunderstanding, Miss Park. We've never put up a video. Not yesterday, not in ever! I mean, I don't even know a thing to do with videos e-except, well, watching cat videos on YouTube and, um, MasterChef but really," I tried my best to explain. "We really don't know what you're talking about."
Miss Park arched a skilful brow, unconvinced. She continued to slide the documents toward me. "Oh. Is that so?"
"Why don't you show us what you're talking about lady," snorted Shea as soon as she recovered from the wrath of my foot. "Since you know all about this... video thing."
Miss Park sighed and I could almost see herself thinking 'what a bunch of kids'. "Very well."
She produced a tablet from her handbag and swiped a couple of times before tapping once, scrolling twice, and handing it from across the table. On the screen was a video featuring two of my adorable students, Finn and Evans, blindfolded and eating some cake. They didn't look like they were having a very good time. Still, I didn't understand how a video about them was 'libellous' in any manner since, well, they were just eating cake (minus the whole blindfolding-thing, maybe that's what made it offensive because maybe the video was meant for kids but then again what's wrong with blindfolding?).
"These are my students...?"
"Exactly," said Miss Park, tight-lipped. "You put them up to this."
My eyes widened. "How—why? Why would I do that, they're almost seventeen! They can think for themselves, Miss Park. I-I would never, I wouldn't—"
"Then why would they make such a video?"
"Because they wanted to eat some fucking cake?" Shea snapped, nudging me in the side so that I'd move over and let her speak. "What do we have to do with a bunch of teens wanting to make some videos for views? Isn't that what people do? Make videos for views? They're giving their personal opinion about the taste of some cake, that's all there is to this. Freedom of speech, woman."
Miss Park did not seem a tad bit fazed by my sister's argument, or at all convinced by our side of the story. "It is not freedom of speech if they were forced to make the video and say the things in it."
"Nowhere in their video did they ever state a sponsorship whatsoever, so," Shea laughed, appearing to find this all rather absurd. I held onto her arm, ensuring that she wouldn't move it to unnecessary places. "You're clearly barking up the wrong tree."
"You're saying that these students did this by their own accord?" The financial manager of ARCD frowned, eyes narrowing into slits.
Shea let out an exasperated groan hands going up into the air. "I mean, have you been listening at all? Like, does it all slip through your fingers like sand?"
Miss Park folded her arms. "You must be lying."
Feeling a hundred percent sure that there was absolutely no way we were ever going to end this conversation with some sense of direction or conclusion, I extended an arm under the table to hold my sister back before trying my best to clear the air.
"I'm sorry Miss Park, but I really think something is amiss. It's a huge misunderstanding," I somehow managed to bite my tongue on the pause, tasting the iron in my mouth. "Uuu... I bit my tongue... I-I meanh thah we woulh wove ho helh you buh we canh. It wasnh eveh our video to begih wihh." I grabbed a couple of tissues in embarrassment before quickly gulping down some water. "We can't take the video down even if we wanted to."
It didn't take a long time for me to start feeling sorry for Miss Park who most probably had nothing to do with the allegations and was just doing her job. Meanwhile, Shea and I were giving her maximum confusion, more work, more overtime and, um, more awkward moments of me biting my tongue.
Either way, Miss Park was frowning hard and looking quite as though she was expecting a headache.
"And why should I think you're telling the truth?"
Shea groaned once more, head in her hands. "Why shouldn't you? Honestly, we've got no way of proving that we aren't so it's up to you whether or not you want to believe it. Okay if that's all you got to say, we're not going to sign anything so I suggest you—"
"I'll have a look at the documents," I interrupted my sister to say, only to receive a look of complete surprise. "You can leave them here, Miss Park. Um, meanwhile, just so you don't waste your time because we really can't do anything about the video, maybe you'd like to share this with the creators of this video instead! It's really good quality editing. I think they should be treated like professionals," I flashed her a smile, "not kids."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Don't run ahead of us Giselle," my husband called out to his sister, who had gone on without us with her bright red luggage, dragging it along as she walked around in awe, admiring the architecture of one of the oldest hotels in the city. Giselle turned around at the sound of her name, pausing at the sight of the long red carpet laid atop of the marble floors.
"Do I get my own room?" She asked when we finally caught up, me feeling slightly out of place as usual. Cities and hotels were not my thing ;-; they were, however, Xander's. After all, his father did entrust him with... o-oh. Bad memories.
"We managed to get ourselves connecting rooms! Meaning we'd be next-door neighbours," I explained to Giselle, hoping that the little detail would further her excitement and somehow distract her from the new environment. After all, the only hotel she was familiar enough to be comfortable with was the one Xander's father... o-oh, more bad memories.
"Okay. At least I can close the door when you and Xandie get...noisy."
She walked off, leaving confused-pebble-me with an amused husband and generally more confusion. The three of us (with Giselle leading far ahead) walked past the revolving doors of the hotel to see a huge, spacious lobby with a ceiling that stretched floors above, allowing guests to see the grandeur of the building upon raising their heads.
"Welcome," said a bellboy to my husband and I as we entered, offering to take our bags. "Do you have a reservation?"
I waved Giselle over, but she appeared far too caught up with the cylindrical fish tank in the middle of the reception area to notice. "Um, actually, we're here for—"
There was a tap on my shoulder before I could finish myself and I turned to see Mr. Yamazaki flashing a crooked grin, nodding at the bellboy. "He is my guest."
Chip was not ready.
"H-h-huwa? Hello! It's been a time, long, I," I paused, blinking to regain my senses which were apparently lost in the surprise. "Thank you, again, for inviting! I'm Honeycutt. Chip. Jaxon... if you remember."
"Of course I remember you, Mr. Honeycutt!" Shin's father laughed humbly, bowing his head a little in greeting. I didn't know what to do, so I bowed too. "I miss your shortcake."
"R-really?" I half-whispered in disbelief, peering sideways to see if my husband had heard what I heard. The smile on his face told me that he did. "Oh! This is, um. This is Mr. Yamazaki. The organizer of the event and um, also, Shin's father! Mr. Yamazaki, this is my husband, Xander Jaxon."
Both Shin and Xander looked perfectly confused because of this and meanwhile me, a pebble rarely causing confusion, was quietly satisfied.
Xander spoke first. "Does Shin trip over air even at home?" I turned to him with an open mouth before snapping out of it.
"Xan!" I whispered-screamed but nothing came out because the next thing I knew, Mr. Yamazaki was laughing, furthering the confusion among as three.
The intention of mine to apologize for my husband's forward nature was somehow stilted by the unexpected reaction.
"You must be his gym teacher! The uh," Mr Yamazaki paused, as though searching his memory for a word. "Coach!"
Xander nodded sharply, smiling a little. "Yeah."
"Shin-chan has told me about you. Very scary he said," Shin's father went on, walking us to the reception. Giselle remained at the fish tank, gazing at exotic fish. "I will not bother you now. Take your time to... uh... put down? Your things? Guests all still arriving so we have time. Maybe come down to the lobby at two o'clock?" He suggested, checking the time.
We nodded and thanked him, turning to the lady at the reception counter who had been waiting for us to finish our conversation when Mr. Yamazaki backtracked, adding rather bashfully that he'd already made arrangements for lunchroom service. "Hope you like it. All guests are taken care of, don't worry."
*
The first thing I noticed were the fluffy pillows—and the microwave being within my reach. Honestly, microwaves shouldn't be placed so high up; I wonder who thought of that idea back in the hotel Xander's father used to frequent. For all I knew, it could have been his idea of a joke.
Criteria fulfilled, I began unpacking everything else while my husband continued to inspect the rest of the room. Giselle was on her side of connecting rooms, staring at the oddly-shaped bathtub and scanning the bathroom vanity for the different types of freebies. Body soap, shampoo and conditioner.
"Angel," Xander was calling me from the bathroom on our side, his voice echoing from behind.
I turned away from our things only to see my husband through the glass that separated the bathroom from the rest of the room, waving as he stood behind the tub. I gave him my best ;-;
"There are blinds, right?"
He raised his gaze promptly before returning to me with his signature smirk. "Nope."
*
After a very luxurious lunch in our rooms and confirming that Giselle was fast asleep in her room with a fortress of pillows around her, Xander and I made our way down to the lobby of the hotel just in time for the briefing at two. It didn't take us long to figure out that the other participants had arrived as well.
While Xander remained completely void of emotion (despite the fact that he, unlike me, hadn't met anyone from the first invitation), I was in my natural state of pebble—anxious. A young lady clad in a sunflower-printed dress waved cheerily in my direction but I had no idea what her name was. I waved back regardless, albeit awkward and stiff.
"I remember their faces, but I don't seem to remember any name!" I panicked, tip-toeing to whisper into my husband's ear. He laughed.
"Does it matter?"
"Of course it does!" I folded my arms. "I hope there's another round of introductions, a-at least."
I spotted Miss Rachel with a drink in hand, standing alone in the corner of the lobby amidst the other participants. Hoping that she would spot me, I waved. Thankfully, she turned upon noticing the movement but, well, her eyes were on the taller of the two of us. Which I guess was logical anyway, since Xander was a lot taller and he would definitely be easier to spot in a crowd.
"Husband does not approve of what you're thinking," said husband to me, having seemed to read my mind. "Let's turn around."
Just as I was about to reason that we had nowhere else to turn, a man in a bow tie called for our attention. The guests turned to him, standing in the middle of a doorway labelled: Function Hall.
"Welcome guests! I am Huang, the overall in-charge of this exciting gathering of skilled pastry chefs from across the country to, well, share their knowledge and expertise. Of course, headed by Mr. Ryo Yamazaki, who thought of this amazing opportunity in the first place," the man gestured to Mr. Yamazaki, who'd suddenly appeared out of thin air. Mine eyes they lie ;-;
"We will now conduct a brief round of introductions in the function hall before moving to the studio we have prepared, where the events of the next couple of days will be carried out. This way, please."
I peered up at Xander as everyone began shuffling towards the double doors of the function room, a look of pure despair in my eyes. Probably. I mean, the very word 'introduction' always seemed to instil that sort of fear in pebble me.
*
Mr. Huang on the other hand, was eager to start the ball rolling.
"So!" He clapped his hands together and rubbed them in adorable anticipation. "Let's get started, shall we? Let's have a round of introductions—brief ones will do. Just you, who it is you brought along, and... hm, what you hope to learn over the next couple of days."
Everyone nodded. I peered up at my husband only to see that he was already looking at me with a smile hanging on the corner of his lips. A smile that was strangely triumphant, as though he was about to receive a huge award for, um, maybe best husband in the world. B-but he wouldn't get that because that award's already mine :>
"Let's start with," Mr. Huang said before surveying the room which was my cue to look at the ground and shift into my spirit animal, a pebble, so that I would not have to introduce myself first. "You."
Thank rolling pins he pointed at someone else!
"Hi, I'm Andy," a man who appeared to be in his forties or fifties waved at everyone else, gaze sweeping across the somewhat-circle we'd formed. "Today I brought my daughter, Elena, to, well, learn how to bake, I suppose!"
Everyone laughed.
"Daaad," a young woman who looked about my age stepped out from behind Andy's back, seemingly indignant but smiling nevertheless.
"It's because you never help out at home," the baker shook his head with a sigh, making everyone laugh again. "Hopefully she will learn something."
A round of polite applause followed suit before it was Miss Rachel's turn to introduce herself. The person standing beside her straightened her back and lifted her chin, appearing rather nervous. I egged her on silently.
"Hello everyone. My name is Rachel, I am the owner of Angel Rachel's Cakes for Devils, otherwise known as ARCD," she began with a brilliant smile. "This is my secretary and baking assistant, Jennifer Miles. We hope to show everyone what it is we do that makes our customers so happy and satisfied!"
Everyone clapped soon after. I poked my husband's abs when I noticed that he was doing so rather unenthusiastically, whispering his catchphrase: 'husband does not approve!'
A couple of people later, I was beginning to feel the nerves. It was going to be Xander and my turn in a minute or so and I was most certainly not ready. Which... sort of explained how I got to this point.
"Hi! I'm Xander Honeycutt," said me with a smile stiffer than any pebble in the world. "This is my Chip, husband, um—Jaxon... I meant I'm not from the city, and..." Mmhm, just hide now Chip, hide now. "CanIpleasestartover?"
Thankfully, everyone laughed, and I was saved from the depths of embarrassment. Xander flicked my forehead, smirking. "At least you got the husband part right."
Again, the rest of the room laughed good-naturedly, although I did manage to get a glimpse of Miss Rachel and her assistant—standing directly opposite Xander and I—who were looking sort of... well, intimidating. At least Miss Rachel was. I couldn't really read the expression on Jennifer's face.
"Okay, um, so. I'm Chip," I started over with the clearest possible mind, pointing at myself to aid my poor brain. "He's Xander. We're married. And, um, we came to learn and make friends and have fun!"
OhmyOvens Chip, just how lame can you be? No one's going to be friends with you once they hear all that.
I felt an arm over my shoulder and peered up at my husband, who was laughing amidst the polite applause that filled the room.
Love you, he mouthed.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Once introductions were over and I was thankfully re-acquainted with several people I'd talked to the previous time (the girl in the sunflower dress, whose name was Miss Cuppie), we were led to a connecting building of the hotel—a huge cooking studio renowned for running and hosting competitions or contests. Sometimes even masterclasses for cooking or baking, or so we were told.
"I feel like this is some MasterChef spinoff," was all my husband had to say when we entered the studio and were led past what looked like a huge pantry of ingredients. I laughed.
"I guess staying up every Saturday night binge watching the seasons have finally come to use!" I poked his abs. He grabbed my hand before using his free one to give my forehead a flick. I could hear Miss Cuppie giggling beside me.
Past the pantry was something like a stage. A small, elevated platform that separated the cooking stations from everything else. In the middle of it stood a familiar face; Chef Randy, the pastry chef that Mr. Dempsey had invited for the previous event as a special guest, smiled as we filtered in, gathering round the platform on instinct.
"So nice to see everyone again," she addressed us all, beckoning. "Come on closer! I don't bite unless you're a cupcake." I looked at Miss Cuppie and she looked at me. She paled. I laughed.
"So! I'm here today to, well, by the request of Mr. Yamazaki," Chef Randy winked in his direction, "to introduce the theme of this event: fusion baking. Which is also what I've been researching for the past year."
"Fusion baking is kiiinda like a trend. Just, a lot more technical. Meaning, it's not some passing fad. Simply put, it is the mixing of food cultures and cuisines. For this event specifically, we will be learning about the mixing of western pastry baking methods with exotic ingredients from all over the world! Ingredients that aren't used by the western world in the desserts that we see or bake every day."
I turned to Xander just in time to catch his confused expression, which somehow did not mess with his handsome meter since he, well, continued to look very attractive nonetheless.
"We will now have Mr. Yamazaki introduce the special pantry of ingredients that he has hand-picked for this specific con—I mean, event," Chef Randy cleared her throat before glancing in the organizer's direction with a sheepish smile. "That, uh, will enhance our understanding of fusion baking! Hands together!" She ended abruptly, stepping away from the mic to clap enthusiastically.
Mr. Yamazaki waved everyone over from the side of the mini-stage, directing us toward a very, very long cooking station with the most luxurious amount of work space. It stretched across the hall that was, well, already very big.
"Everyone gather around me, oh, not around but, uh," Mr. Yamazaki gestured with his arms, "close. Yes, just around the table. Can everybody see me?"
Some of us nodded, while others spread out to ensure a good view of the work space. An assistant came through to hand Shin's father a wooden box filled with goodies and because he was dressed so formally in a button-up and a tie, I failed to notice that it was Shin himself until he'd spotted Xander and I. Our student waved and a tilt of his head, as though unsure if his eyes were reliable.
I was about to return a wave when he scurried off, supposedly to fetch more items. Beside me, my husband laughed.
"Today, we will introduce a collection of ingredients from a... all over the world! That is what fusion baking is about," Mr. Yamazaki finished after stealing several glances at his translator. "Starting with something that is rising in popular—I mean, popular rising, matcha powder!"
Mr Yamazaki produced a fancy cylindrical tin, wrapped in cloth that featured intricate golden swallows. He opened it and fished out a tiny wooden spoon only slightly larger than the size of my pinky, scooping some of the powder as he did so. This was passed around and everyone got to see, taste and smell the matcha powder that I supposed was of a higher grade, since the colour was much darker and smell much richer than the ones that they sold in ordinary supermarkets.
"A lot of people confuse green tea and matcha. Matcha is a type of green tea, mostly used by the Japanese in a lot of our traditional... uh... cuison?" He looked to the translator.
"Cuisine."
"Cuisine!" Mr. Yamazaki repeated with a nod and Shin, who'd just re-entered the room with another box, sighed with a shake of his head, hiding his face in embarrassment.
"Next, we have... red bean paste."
I'd never heard of red beans, let alone red bean paste. Canned beans were probably the closest I ever got to any kind of beans, in fact ;-;
Either way, I started feeling slightly anxious about fusion baking when Mr. Yamazaki went on to introduce never-before-seen, never-before-heard ingredients like sakura, pandanus, durian, glutinous rice, kaya and black soybeans. That aside, there were ones I'd heard about from either the Baker's Times or other magazines but never used such as pistachios, dates, black sesame, ube, sweet corn and gula melaka.
My head was beginning to spin. Uwa.
"I wasn't informed about this," Xander declared in a lowered voice, leaning down to speak beside my ear. I turned to him with a look of despair.
"W-well! I didn't know about this either."
My husband reached out to pinch my nose, causing me to sneeze. "At least you're qualified. I'm just an ordinary human being with three flavours to know: vanilla, chocolate, strawberry—that's it."
I surveyed the rest of the room, trying to get a glimpse of everyone else's reactions to the foreign ingredients. Several looked just as clueless as I did, but some, including Miss Rachel, appeared rather pleased with what was going on.