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Drama Fiction Romance

“What do you mean? You think you are better chef than I am. That is the most laughable thing that I have ever heard. You aren’t as good as my little toe on my foot. Just get away from me.” Susie stood there fuming mad and staring at the most ignorant man that she had ever met. How could he, Stanford Allen Jamestown, think he was in any league of being a chef that she was? He was the most maddening person on God’s green Earth that she ever had the unprivileged of meeting. She wanted to scream at him, she wanted to tell him to take a long walk off a short pier, and she wanted to take a cake to throw it in his ugly, opinionate face.  As she walked past that man, that person she wanted to kick his shin, but she knew that would be sinking as low as he was. He had stepped in front of her, so that she would actually have to talk with him, actually acknowledge that man lived on this Earth without getting very mad was a miracle for her.  She hated that man, she loft that man, and she wanted that man to burn in the Devil’s playground. That man was full of himself and he was so full of himself there was no room for anyone else in his life, he probably stood in front of the mirror and kiss himself, he was, so much in love with himself.

As she walked on, she tried her hardest to forget that man and calm herself down. She was always reading in the newspaper about who he was dating and who he is dumping. He sounds like one of those man that discarded women as soon as he gets tired of them. Taking deep breaths of the morning crisp air, she found herself getting more peaceful as she got closer to her bakery “Baked Dreams”, she loved the name that her niece had given the bakery she had open by herself. She had been scared that it was going to be a flop, so to take a little pressure off her she let her niece name her store.  Not knowing what she would end up with a name for her store, she was pleasantly surprise when her niece told her the new name. It had been a smashed when she opens the bakery with everyone’s positive remarks on the name.

She loved being at her bakery, it felt, so safe, warm, and tranquility at her bakery.  Customer come in to get their fill off the gooey, warm treats that she has to offer and she loves every minute of watching when they take their first bite of that gooey, warm treat they purchase. The only thing she didn’t like was getting up at four in the morning and going out in the cold, chilly air to arrive at her bakery. She loved the smell of the warm treats in the air as it invades her body with a pleasant smell of inviting her to take that first bite. Knowing there was good and bad parts of her choice of employment, she always let the good part outweigh the bad. She smiled at her employees as she walked past the counter to her office and notice how busy they were. She put her coat and purse in the office to go back out to give them a hand with the customers before going to work to bake more of the treats up, so they wouldn’t run out.  She loved to watch as customer come in to be greeted by the warm aroma of baking treat which always made them buy more than they had planned to.

Thinking about the upcoming event for the annual holiday festival which always involved the upcoming chef cook off. The chef that was involved had to bake one of their masterpieces for the judges and the title of “Chef with The Most” would win one thousand dollars plus the bragging rights for the town. Eerieville had two bakeries in its business section and several cooks around the town which meant six people would be involved in the cook off this year. She had actually heard that there might be one new cook involved in the contest this year. She welcomed everybody and she would wipe the floor with them just like she had done last year. 

The theme last year had been “Winter Land” and she had made a three layer chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting in between the layers plus on the top of the cake.   She had added a view of two skaters on top; they had been holding hands while skating on the ice, gazing into the other person’s eyes. Her special ingredient could be seen on top which no one could put their finger on and that would be one secret she would take to her grave with her. Something she would not tell anyone was how she used the ingredient different from everyone else, she had discovered its hidden talent by pure accident when she spilled its contents on a doughnut and hadn’t got all the little pieces off. It was such a normal household little ingredient that she was surprised that no one else knew about its hidden talent.  Smiling, she walked up to the front to help with the customers and patting her apron pocket where she kept the little treasure safely tucked away. Her co-workers didn’t even know what little treasure was her secret hidden treasure.

Stanford had stood there in the middle of the sideway trying to block her way just to hold a simple conversation with the woman who was his rival. She had won last year contest, when his surprise entry had burnt around the edges and completely took a nose dive back into the pan. Seeing red that day and at this point of time, all he had wanted to talk about was the new person entering the contest, to see if she had actually heard who the new person was. Was the person going to be another rival in the business area or was it just someone thinking they could do better than two professional bakers that had actually gone to college to enrich this town with yummy treats for their bellies. He was going to simply ask a few questions and then step out of her way, but she had to start yelling at him about whom he thought he was and how he actually thought he was as good as she was. If her nose got any higher in the air, she would get dizzy from being so stuck up.

As he entered his bakery from going to the bank, he noticed a few customers lined up to get help from his counter workers, who were trying their best to serve the customers as fast as they could.  “Precious Treats” had always been in the family and handed down from generation to generation, their recipes were from many different generations sprinkled with some new ones. It had always been his custom to know that people stayed with what they liked. His favorite seller was a strawberry cake with an old fashion strawberry frosting with little bits of strawberries and whole strawberries sitting on the top of the cake, a recipe that had been handed down for several generations. A still favorite with his customers and some of the customers actually ate it for breakfast.

As his thoughts wandered from his customers and their expression of love for his treats, he thought back to their sideway collision which made his mind think about a pair of doe colored brown eyes and how a man could lose himself in their depths. How her brown eyes expressed the very thought, the feeling of her soul and how she actually felt about him. He could see lightening streak flashing from her eyes as she stood in front of him with her hand, dainty hands planted on a slim waist. He stopped suddenly and shook those thoughts from his mind as if he could fall in love with her. “Get a grip old man. Contest is coming up and dreaming about someone like her is way out of your league. Get a grip old man.” his thought become out loud as he stood there surprised that his thoughts had actually went in that direction. He didn’t like her as his soul mate or anything important to his life except how much she angered him down to the core of his being.  His thoughts turned to how much he would love to show her up at this year contest. How much he would like to be the winner for his special dessert that was taking form in his mind. 

The day of the contest beamed sunshine through her window and she knew that she had to get up out of bed. It felt, so good to relax in bed for a couple of hours that she usually didn’t have the privilege of getting. It was seven in the morning and she had a busy morning to get ready for the contest, she had to go to the bakery to get her cooking items that she would need for her special treat, get showered and dressed to look her best on the television, and finally get to the place that the contest was going to be filmed from.  To start her day meant that she was going to have to get out bed, but she decided to give herself an extra ten minutes of dreamland.

Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander loose in dreamland and her thoughts turned to a certain man that she would see pretty soon. She was staring at his lips as they were coming closer to her lips. Her eyes drifted slowly shut to await his lips lying claim to hers. Their lips clashed silently in a passion war and their limbs entwined together to get familiar with the other person’s body. His one hand was at the back of her head to bring her lips even closer and her hands were rubbing his back to get familiar with his muscle that seemed to feel rock solid.

In reality, her eyes flew open to search her room to make sure that no one was in her room watching her kiss her pillow and she knew that she was going to take her shower now, a very cold shower because her body was reacting to her getting a kiss from her pillow.   As she stood in the cold water, she felt embarrassed how her body had reacted to the imagined kiss from someone that she hated more than she loved. Getting dressed and out the door was next on her list of chorus for the day before she was standing there showing people how to make one special treat.

She arrived in time to be showing where to stand which was right next to her worse rival person. Looking around at the people, she noticed it was the same group that she had thought would be there and with a sign of relief she knew she was going to come out on top of the group. She was going to be named “Master Chef” of this show and for the whole year of bragging that she was going to enjoy bragging in front of dear old Stanford. Glancing over at him, she could see that he was whispering to the Mayor’s wife, Jane which was one of his assistant at the bakery. Maybe he was going over something about the shop with her as they stood there whispering, so that no one else heard what they were saying.

As the show was starting, she noticed that Jane stood right where she was. Was Jane the new one that was going to be on the show?  Susie wandered how good of a chef she was and as the show proceed; they were assigned their kitchens that only stood a few feet away from each other. Getting more nervous as the show went on, Susie was determine to be the winner and show up Jane who looked confident of herself. Laughingly, she remember how big of a man the Mayor was and remembering the saying, “To get to a man’s heart through his stomach.”  Thoughts crashed through her mind that she was going to lose bad to a new chef made her more nervous about her standing as a chef in this town.

The end of the show came faster than she knew humanly possible and before she knew what was happening, all the chefs were standing in a circle to await the results of the contest and to see who was going to be name “Head Chef”.  The judges were ready to name the Head Chef and were telling the other contestants why they hadn’t won,  one by one which made her nerves start to fly high. Her stomach had butterflies circling for the launch pad and she was starting to feel like a winner instead loser. Was she going to win? Was she going to lose?

Three people were standing on the stage as the show came closer to the end. It was Stanford’s turn to hear what was wrong with his special treat and she was surprised to hear that he came in second place. Susie smiled as that meant that Jane came in third and she was the winner of the contest. Her butterflies became birds looking for the launch pad as she heard the judges say that Jane had come in first place of the contest and that she had come in third place.  She felt like fainting, but someone was wrapping their arms around her. She was getting picked up off her feet as she heard Stanford say “Everyone is winner, but Jane was more of a winner than they were tonight.” 

Before, she left the building that the contest had been viewed in; she took a few minutes to talk to Jane to tell her how glad she was that Jane won the contest and to taste her food that she had made that night. Susie knew that she had to agree with the judges on the votes that she was the winner.  She watched as some of the other people were patting the Mayor’s stomach and laughing that he had been her taste tester. Susie listened to the fact that Jane had wanted to join the ranks of being a Head Chef for a long time, but had talked to Stanford about being her teacher and advisories.  Feeling slightly jealous that she had gone to Stanford instead of joining her ranks, she had to think back how her nose had been out of joint for a while. Jane had made the right decision on which one to select as a teacher and advisories.

She was about to her car when she heard someone yelling her name and from the voice’s tone, she knew it was Stanford.  Her feeling sunk as she stopped to hear what he wanted to say to her. “I wanted to tell you that I tried your cooking and was pleasantly surprise on how good it was.” They stood only inches apart as they let their feeling guide them instead of standing there like little children trying to best the other person. Their lips meet in a passionate kiss with their arms going around the other bodies to actually start feeling how they felt in real life instead of in their dreams.

December 09, 2020 02:22

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2 comments

Judith Buskohl
22:41 Feb 04, 2021

Thanks for the comment on my article. Another reader told me to use saying like "nose dive back into the pan" to give my stories the laughable quality.

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Bonnie Clarkson
03:43 Jan 06, 2021

I liked some of your description: "cake to throw" since it was a cooking contest, "nose dive back into the pan", "doe colored eyes", and "kiss her pillow". "She loft that man"? Is that a saying from your area? "maddening" and "unpriveleged" seem like the same idea. I would only use "unpriveleged". Watch your "that"s, "had"s, and forms of "get". I have trouble with them too. I use my find and replace function on MS Word. Some can just be deleted. It was still a good story. I confess I have a friend with the time to help me edit and critique...

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