Morningstar Manor

The mailbox always seemed to get fuller after a chocolate style holiday, and not only did Gregori have to bring post home from work, but deal with the stuffed box here too! He almost cursed as a load of cards and envelopes fell out of the box and slid across the counter to glide towards the floor, but he resisted, just. Which was probably a good thing, because he was down on his hands and knees picking them up when he heard footsteps, and looked up, to see who else was checking the mail... "Um, hi, I would say be careful, but I think it has stopped attacking me now."

He grinned, both hands full of mail, and stood back up again, although there were several pieces still on the floor.

The walk home from the shop had been cold, but rather than fill up on chocolate and hot food, Gregori had come down to the gym to work out. He'd get plenty warm that way, and besides, with all the chocolate he was eating lately he kind of needed to, otherwise he'd be putting on weight wholesale! In between short sessions on the treadmill, he was lifting weights, and after a while he got into the rhythm and was therefore surprised when the door opened behind him and someone else came in. He smiled, the treadmill wasn't that interesting, and even lifted a hand, "Hi, cold out tonight isn't it, is it still snowing?"

Ang was settled in the pool, drifting and lapping alternately, an exercise that Alec had agreed to, and which she was making the most of having left Gavin with his father for a bath and bedtime routine they mostly had down pat. Her mind was racing though, through the essay due next week that she had almost finished, but was indefinably unhappy with. She'd missed something, something, "Conditioning!" She suddenly sat up in the water, unaware that someone else was in the pool house, "I forgot about the damn conditioning!"

----

Emma was in the Gym, the phys ed component of her year was not going well, and she was doing her best to improve that with a few miles on the treadmill, and some light weights, but, really, could she have known less about what she was doing? Just then, she was sat on a mat, supposedly stretching, but in reality, mostly in a dream about opening an exhibition in a gallery, her exhibition, a brilliant success...... strangely enough she was smiling, despite the hunched posture and oddly extended leg that she was bent over.

----

Icene had finished emptying her apartment. The last of her belongings had gone, either to Adams, or the local good will. She'd advised her parents of the apartment number change, but only her father knew what was going on. He'd confessed her mother was slipping still further, and Icene was now worrying over a black coffee, that thankfully remained such, whilst shredding a muffin into crumbs.... should she go home? Could she do anything? Would she just make it worse? And if her mother was as far gone as her father said, would she even realise who Icene was? She sat, without realising she was crying, as a single solitary tear drifted down her face, slowly freezing until a small bead of ice fell from her chin into the mess of crumbs on the plate.

----

Gregori was cheerfully stuffing mailroom boxes with small samples of chocolates, he'd left a box that first time for Ashlynn, and that had given him the idea, now he dropped half a dozen chocs, in bags, into each box in the apartment, complete with a business card, and a small copy of the 'menu'. He was humming a Christmas Carol, because there were no good halloween songs.

----

Cleo browsed the library shelves, wondering, not for the first time, why she'd picked the courses she had. All this studying was not helping her find a date, and with halloween coming up, surely a costume for the rumoured ball was far more important than an essay. She found the book she was looking for, and turned, only to drop the book as someone else was right there, "Oh madre de dios! You made me jump!"

----

Spencer had been in meetings, and was feeling tired and drained. But there were chores to be done, so tonight he was staring blankly at the washing machine as it revolved rhythmically before him, the towels tumbling in and out of the soapy water, his mind seeking only rest and respite from worry and stress. Christmas was coming, the store was gearing up, and yet, he just couldn't find any enthusiasm for any of it. It worried him.

----

Jane was quietly clearing up the daycare centre, slowly cleaning up the spilled paint, the ground in clays, and setting things to rights. Alongside her were a couple of the last remaining children, who's parents hadn't yet arrived to collect them, even though officially the daycare part of their work was over. She was happy though, because the children were helping, and it was all good, however imperfectly they did it, they really were helping! "That's it, one more brush into the pan, and yes! You've got it! Well done," she smiled at the young boy, "Now, can you get it to the bin without spilling it?"

She looked up to see another parent arriving, "Evening! We've had a lovely day, everything all right?"

Ashlynn felt entirely lost as she opened the familiar mailbox she'd had the last time she lived here. Last night she'd looked over the directory and noticed all of her former friends were either misplaced or they weren't listed. Deacon was listed, with Charlie, and Joe was on a different floor, but no listing for Onyx and Cade or Sergei.

She didn't even know why she was checking the mail, other than to tell her mother she'd done it. There were a million other things she could do but nothing seemed appealing anymore. The door creaked so she looked up to see who was coming in but it didn't open. Turning back to close her box it was stuffed.

"Oh jeez that's odd... I wonder if Jerry's been using this box for his junk mail?" She mused to herself then chuckled at the thought. It had been empty just a few moments ago, had it not?

Gregori had been at the shop for most of the day, not open, but with Paul in the kitchen, refilling the stock in the coolers and working on some new filling ideas suggested by customers in this, their first week. Now though, he had eaten, and was sitting in the Lamb, nursing his eighth, or was that tenth, drink, celebrating alone his fantastic first week. It seemed, despite all the odds, that this little venture, of which a number of people had been so sceptical, was going to work. He looked up from his barstool, and caught the barman's eye, but he wasn't ordering another drink, at least, not for himself, "I am celebrating, first week in new business, went good. I want, food, and more drinks, everyone to have a drink."

He grinned, "I would have bought chocolate, but shop is closed for night. Come see me tomorrow for that!" He waved his arm around, "Drinks, for everyone, I pay, because I am happy!"

Gregori had been working flat out for over a week, ever since the Chocolaterie was declared fit to be opened. He’d interviewed over two dozen people who wanted to work in the shop, and six for the kitchens, that had been disappointing, but, he’d found a prize! One of the young men who’d tried out for a shift had natural talent when it came to chocolate, and didn’t lick his fingers either, so he’d been hired on a trial basis to help Gregori get the stock ready for opening. Also, he’d hired two teens to work in the shop at the front, and he’d been training them when they were available. The girls grumbled about hair nets and gloves, but he was insistent, and both would have to get hygiene certificates in addition to the level ones they’d both shown him at interview. That test could be done online for heaven’s sakes, it was very basic and not really up to Gregori’s standards.

( A start this early could only mean....  )Chocolaterie Rushenko was officially open.

He'd bought coffee, argued with the builder who was finishing off the store inside, and then had a blinding moment of sheer frustration. He'd forgotten to organise the signage for the front! Having cleaned up the office (again for the third time this morning), he'd given up and headed to the Auberge, but was now sat on the angel statue's base staring at his shop and wondering, how best to sell it to the passers by... the chocolates inside that was, not the actual shop.

On his knees a very new looking pad of blank paper, and some squiggles that might have been ideas for lettering, if you squinted and turned the page a bit upside down or something. No, Gregori couldn't draw, but he made up for that with the beautiful chocolate creations, photos of which were already being blown up into posters and oh ye gods, he'd need letterheads and everything! He groaned and downed half of the new coffee he had bought, then bit into the large sub roll he'd bought from the Auberge... something that fitted in with the location, but was uniquely Rushenko. That was the rub, he'd been so good at being universal and background, but now he needed to stand out, to be noticeable instead. He needed help, and fast.

Emma had put the phone down after a long chat with Ang, and yes, Alec too, even Gavin had gurgled at her, and finished her cup of tea, then fetched up both dogs, and headed for the gardens. They needed a longer walk tomorrow and she was thinking of taking them out for a long hike, but for now the gardens and a dozen or so laps, along with assorted fetch and tug of war games would have to do. So for a while she was settled on the lawns, throwing tennis balls in various directions and laughing as Faith and Lily raced each other to bring them back.

Spencer was hiding out in the Gazebo, he was fairly sure his mother was likely to call, so had left his cell upstairs, and instead bought some paperwork with him to read while he sipped on his coffee. A whole batch of papers had just slipped from his grasp though, and were now drifting about in the breeze as he tried to catch them without spilling his drink - if only he'd thought to put it down.

Icene was basking in a secluded corner that had sunshine, not working on her tan as much as trying not to burn, but then, she had plenty of sun cream, at least on the bits she could reach. An ice cold, and staying that way, bottle of white wine sat next to her, along with the one glass she'd poured and was currently sipping. She had a veritable picnic in the bag by her feet, but, so far, no-one to share it with.

Jane was not too far from her apartment windows, in a more shaded spot, wearing a large floppy brimmed hat, and a long-sleeved but very cool loose cotton kaftan type thing. She'd bought it on a whim because the pale blue fabric was covered in little white daisies with yellow centres, but she really wasn't sure even now that it was a good choice. Bare feet peeked out from under it as she struggled to keep her attention on the book she was trying to read. Any distraction from a childcare textbook would probably be more than welcome!

Gregori was just outside the Mocha doors, on the phone to his builder, and slugging down a bottle of water fresh from the Mocha's fridge. He was not in the best of moods, but the sunshine was helping, along with abject apologies and promises of cost reductions... after a few more exchanges he hung up and sighed, then rolled his head on his shoulders before leaning back against the sun warmed wall and almost, but not quite, wishing he smoked or something.

Cleo was in the tenant gardens, admiring the plants, and occasionally pulling a random weed out of a plot here or there... and if she pocketed a few leaves of bay, or a sprig of rosemary, well, nobody would notice right? She did draw the line at pinching strawberries though, leaving those well alone in the plots where they were, just, oooh, garlic chives! Those would be good. She wondered how difficult it would be to get a plot, then she could maybe grow her own herbs outside, they usually tasted better than indoor grown...

Emily left the restaurant after a morning shift of talking with the owners and staff, making a lot of phonecalls and rummaging the storage rooms for anything to help with the book project. She hadn't even bothered to change to chef's whites - the kitchen staff was sure to handle the lunch without problems, and she had plenty of other things to worry about.

The large brown leather bag on her shoulder was stuffed full of books and folders that she needed to take a closer look, but first: coffee with Gregori. She entered the Auberge, and didn't need to look very hard to spot the big man in the delicate French-style coffee shop.

Emily still had not seen Gregori even though he had moved in on Sunday - but then again, she had been working most of the time, and he had probably been busy setting up his apartment and the chocolate shop she had already heard so much about.

She finally got her chance on Tuesday, when she had a day off. Emily went out to buy a bouquet of flowers and a beautiful glass vase for them, because she firmly believed that every (new) apartment should have flowers to brighten it up. She saw Vincenzo in the lobby, and was happy enough to tell him first that she was going up to see Gregori, before she walked to the elevator, took it up to the 10th floor and finally stopped in front of Gregori's door.

Emily realized she felt nervous, so she took a moment to take a deep breath to calm herself before knocking on his door. The last time they had seen had not been in very good terms - she had rejected him, and his work offer, over another man, after all. Despite that, Gregori was her old friend, and he was here now. So she finally reached up and knocked on the door, hoping he was at home.

Sunday was perhaps not the most traditional of moving days, but then again, having arrived in the City last weekend, and having spent a week at the Empress waiting for his furniture to be trucked overland, well, Gregori didn't want to wait any longer. He'd signed the lease on the little shop on Vine Square, and already the contractors were gutting it out. The upstairs accommodation was being cleared to become an office and kitchen, while downstairs would be the shop front, and main production and storage area. Everything had to be pristine and clean.

So having spent the week having some fun with a sledgehammer and truly getting his hands dirty, Gregori was looking forward to arranging furniture and deciding on a new colour scheme for his apartment. With the keys collected, and the furniture going up in the service elevator though, he had little to do for the moment, and so was down in the Mocha with a large hot chocolate, a raspberry danish, and currently a large tuna roll with salad. It might only be breakfast time, but Gregori had been up long enough that it felt more like lunch.

They'd called yesterday about going shopping for the new apartment, and Gregori had deliberately hired a van for the day. He knew what was coming, and armed with a toolbox, and his wallet, he called at the Manor for them, deliberately leaving the van in the parking bay outside where the taxi's and limo's pulled up. He could already see Audrey in the lobby, waving, so he waved back, grinning.

The jeans were old and beginning to fade, but still snug, the t-shirt tight, but not overly so, and in a shade of blue that he loved. Hard-wearing trainers covered his feet, although he had been tempted by the steel-toed boots he sometimes wore in kitchens. He'd called ahead, and the van could be taken into the parking lot later, but for now there was no need.

"Hey, come on out, let's go!" he called, waving again.

( We're off to see Ikea.... )

Emily and Audrey had eaten Gregori's chocolates together on Wednesday evening while they had been talking. In fact, they had been talking - and arguing and crying and laughing and hugging a lot - for hours, way past both of their bed time. Audrey had taken the news well, having guessed half of it herself. She was utterly excited to have a father who was a celebrity too, and couldn't wait to meet him properly.

Emily's mind was just a little more at ease now that she had had time to think about it all. She still didn't want anything from Gregori, and she was very afraid of the potential scandal gossip in tabloids, but since Audrey was so happy and excited, she felt a little better as well. After a morning shift at work, Emily felt strange at home not needing to cook dinner. Instead, she was increasingly nervous as the time neared seven, just like Audrey was increasingly excited and hyper.

"Mom?" the girl asked when Emily came from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt and black shorts, looking quite sharp. "Did you do your hair? Awww, you want to impress him, don't you!"

( Oh no she doesn't!!! )

His third, or was it fourth call of the morning, and already he was frustrated with bureaucracy and red tape, fed up with the idiots who needed telling twice, and ready to just shout at the next person who needed something repeated. However, this lady he needed to be nice to,"Da, is what I said."

He set the bag of food down on the table he'd been given and turned to the stunned woman behind him who'd just given him the food, "You are not listening, Nica, go pack the house up, it's for sale. I move here. Now."

( Read more... )

He'd thought long and hard about it, for all of an hour last night in between a tour presentation and the dinner he'd been invited out to by the local TV station crew. Having drunk most of them under the table he'd taken a cab back to the Empress and mulled it over some more. Whoever was the father of that child, Emily must have been missing him something awful to have any kind of relationship with them, after all, look how long she'd held out against him? They'd had that one glorious night at graduation, and then, in the morning, gone their separate ways.

Today however he'd had to do another morning presentation, and an afternoon one, but then he wasn't scheduled for anything until tomorrow. Somewhere in between the two he borrowed a kitchen and some ingredients he just happened to have picked up in that wonderful department store he'd been in yesterday, and managed to whip up some of his favourite fillings for chocolates, and made around two dozen different kinds. Now, around about the same time as he'd been there yesterday, he was in the lobby, waiting, and hoping. If he didn't see Emily, he might at least see the girl, get another, better look at her. And what had Emily meant by steakhouse? Surely she wasn't working a grill as a short order cook? She was a first class chef for heaven's sakes. Having a child shouldn't affect that ability any.

( Surprise surprise! )

The morning had gone well, the demonstration at the Michaels Bros store had been successful, and the books and DVD's were selling well. With the launch of his personally chosen cookware range coming out in a few weeks, things were looking great. It helped that Mr Spencer Michaels had treated him to lunch, courtesy of his personal chef, at the Manor itself. Gregori loved the City, but spent more time on the road just lately, or out in California where most of his series were filmed.

Now though, with lunch and some fine wine behind him, he said goodbye to Mr Michaels, and called for his car to be sent round, he then headed for the elevator and waited patiently for it's arrival, admiring the decorative trim and indeed the entire ambience of the building as he stood there. Once the elevator arrived, he stepped in, and pressed the ground floor button, humming to himself and reviewing his schedule in his mind. Tonight he had a dinner with another potential advertiser, they paid a fortune to advertise in his programmes, they knew he was popular. The elevator didn't stop all the way down, but ran smoothly, until with a quiet 'ding' it announced it's arrival at the ground floor, and the doors slid open almost silently.

On the other side of the doors, in the lobby, stood a woman around her 30's, with brown hair reaching over her shoulders, chocolate eyes, and wearing a simple flower patterned dress with a white cardigan on top of it to avoid a too revealing look. She was just digging her keys from her brown bag of fake leather, as she looked up when the doors opened.

( So this is where you've been hiding? Nice place... )

With bruises all over her skin and visible scrapes on her cheek and her left arm held in a sling against her chest, Emily felt that she was in no condition to see absolutely anyone (especially not the journalists asking for interviews due to the Michelin stars). She had spent a very miserable morning after very little sleep calling to her bank, the restaurant and her phone service provider about losing the cards, keys and the phone. It was all too much work and a horrible hassle and left her completely exhausted.

After a three-hour nap over the lunch hours, she finally woke feeling just as bad as before. She was supposed to be on sick leave for at least the rest of the week, so eventually she came to examine the package she had received from Gregori the other day.

She put the DVD in the player and sat back on her yellow sofa and watched some of the auditions with Wayne. She shook her head feeling rather uncomfortable, paused the DVD and reached for her phone. She still had Gregori's phone number, so she decided to call him. She didn't know how to behave with him anymore after all that had happened between them, but she had to at the very least thank him.

The packet had arrived in her mailbox by hand quite late on Sunday night. It said so on the stamp that he'd stamped onto the front of the thick envelope. Of course it was risky, but, he was fairly sure it was a risk worth taking, and besides, he'd waited until that Vinnie guy was off the front desk before delivering it directly to the mailbox and not leaving it at the front desk. He still wasn't sure how he'd got away with that either.

The envelope contained a couple of DVD's, rushes and audition tapes of various chefs, a thin flat box containing a slab of hand made dark chocolate. The chocolate was decorated with white and milk chocolate, and little edible gold leaf stars. There was also a brief note scrawled in his bold hand...

( Read more... )

It wasn't long before he was out of the building, but instead of getting a cab he felt the need for an immediate dose of something stronger than the coffee he hadn't had at Emily's. The sign for the Lamb caught his eye, and he headed into the bar, not looking around, just going straight for a stool and catching the eye of one of the staff, "Vodka, triple, straight."

The barman put the drink in front of him, and Gregori handed over a hundred dollar bill even as he downed the drink in one swallow. "Another please."

Hopefully this would take the edge off his feelings, let him get back in control of himself before he had to fly back to the West Coast and find a new chef.

( V is for Vodka, and only Vodka. Not for Vinnie. )

Gregori had been round to La Fee, only to find out that Emily had called in sick. That did not sound at all like Emily, he remembered her coming to classes with the most dreadful headaches and stomach upsets, and somehow making it through without anyone knowing much other than she had a headache.

He'd waited a day, then gone back, only to be told the same thing, Miss Brandon was not in yet today. So, being worried about Emily, he'd made his way straight to the Manor. He took flowers, and was pleased when the guard on reception was not Vinnie, and just signed him in and escorted him up. Gregori knocked on the door, and waited, hoping Emily would answer.

( Talk to me? )