Cake Love: All Things Payne

by Elizabeth Lynx

  "I keep telling my brother to replace the carpets, but it's the one area he is cheap about. Oh, and the coffee here is crap, he's cheap with that too."

  "So ... so ... you're Mr. Jacob Mimir's brother?"

  He holds out a hand for me to take.

  "Yes, Edgar Mimir, at your service m'lady. And I don't think I have had the pleasure of being introduced?"

  He takes my hand, and gives a light tip while bowing in jest. I stutter my responses in shock by the day’s events, first the job and the boss attached to the job and now meeting the owner of the company's brother.

  "I'm ... I, uh ... I mean I'm Morgana Drake, Mr. Payne's new assistant."

  He winces after I say Mr. Payne's name and sucks in a breath.

  "Oh ... No!" The gorgeous one exclaims.

  Chapter 4 - THE Paperwork ...

  Edgar's mouth is wide open as his eyes stay fixed on me. Perhaps he's having a stroke as he hasn't moved for about a minute now, just staring. I wave my hand in front of his face, which seems to snap him out of his catatonic state.

  "I'm sorry. No one should have to suffer with the Payne. Well, to apologize for my sex and for this company for making you have to work daily with the Payne, I must take you out to lunch. And don't think of saying no because then I will be forced to stalk you until you agree. I don't know if you will like being woken up in the middle of the night with rocks being thrown at your window."

  I relax a bit and laugh, finally something good without fear being attached to it. Nodding my head with a smile, glad I have already made a friend at the company who happens to be pretty eye candy.

  I sigh ... so pretty.

  Edgar takes me to a little French restaurant around the corner that makes crepes. I have only ever had sweet crepes, but they serve savory ones too. I learn a valuable lesson at that restaurant; crepes are a necessary part of the four food groups. Well, my four food groups: Cake, Wine, Chocolate and now Crepes. Nutrition is nothing to laugh at!

  At lunch Edgar informs me of the ups and downs and ins and outs of the company while his eyes attach themselves to every attractive woman in range. He is nice and funny, but I have the feeling he likes the ladies a lot.

  Edgar tells me how he's known Mr. Payne since college. They were roommates at Northwestern. Edgar explains Mr. Payne wasn't always the Payne; he used to be a fun if not slightly nerdy guy.

  His exact words, "Henrik was a bit of a nerd. Always playing video games and constantly quoting comedy movies. Right after we graduated my brother created this company. Since I majored in computer science he asked me to help bring the company on-line to the masses. I brought Henrik with me and he talked himself into every investor's office you could imagine. The man can sell bottled water to a drowning person. Then something happened in Henrik's personal life a few years later and he morphed into the terrible Payne he is today."

  I wondered what happened that changed Mr. Payne so drastically. Just to let everyone know, I'm a nosy person. I know it's none of my business and I should let sleeping dogs lie and curiosity killed the cat BUT I'm not a dog or cat so that really doesn't apply to me! Now I feel it's my mission to find out what makes Henrik Payne, aka my boss, aka the Payne, aka Paynefully Sexy (Like that one? I thought it was quite clever if I do say so myself.), aka riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma to be slowly undressed by me (eyebrows move up and down in a seductive manner), tick.

  My thoughts are still on figuring Mr. Payne out mind and body when I realize Edgar has brought me back to the office and deposits me in front of the HR door. I thank him for lunch and head inside.

  "Well, well, well, you chose to stay and work for the devil. I respect a woman who faces her worst nightmare and lives to tell about it."

  I search the room for the female voice and find it coming from a desk to my left. It's the blonde who gave me the envelope of confusion earlier today. Looking at the nameplate on her desk, her name is Evaleen Bechmann. I chant the name so I remember it this time: Evaleen Bechmann! Evaleen Bechmann, Evaleen Bechmann!

  "Yes, Ms. Drake that is my name."

  Oops, I must have said it out loud.

  "Mr. Payne sent me here to fill out paperwork. I start tomorrow."

  She gives me her sympathetic smile again and tells me to have a seat, motioning to the chair in front of her desk.

  "Got it right here."

  I walk over and sit as she places the large yellow envelope on her desk in front of me with a thud.

  "Wow, that's a thick envelope. I guess the employee manual and other company manuals are in there too?"

  Her finger shoots into the air, her face awash with revelation.

  "Oh, almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me. Here are the manuals. The envelope is just the paperwork."

  Evaleen gets up, after pulling three large books from her desk, and walks over to me placing them in my lap. They must weigh fifteen pounds at least.

  As she walks back to her seat she waves me off.

  "Just bring the paperwork back tomorrow."

  I struggle to get up and lug my heavy items with me, but she stops me just as I reach the door.

  "Oh, Ms. Drake, did Mr. Payne mention to you about the incident?"

  Oh no! How did he find out?

  Chapter 5 - THE Incident ...

  Have you ever dated a guy and realized he is a loser. Yeah, I dated lots of guys like that. But there is one in particular who is an asshole among jerks, a dickhead among douchebags and a worshiper of all things idiotic. His name, Trevor Trance. That is his name, not making it up! When he first told me it I snorted from laughing so loud. He didn't like that, but he got over it quickly considering he wanted to nail me. Which he did, but I made him wait a few weeks.

  Trevor did a bad thing to me. He didn't hit me or mentally abuse me or anything terrible like that, he filmed me. Naked, having sex with him and then posted it on YouTube without telling me any of it. So you could say I hate him with the death stares of a thousand menstruating women.

  Oh and here's the kicker, he used our names in the title! Yeah, he is that stupid! So everyone found out about it. EVERYONE! My parents, friends, ex-boyfriends, grade school teachers, etc. I had to change all my accounts and start going by my middle name, Morgana. Don't even think for a second I'm going to tell you my real first name. What, so you can look me up? No ... no ... no ... no!

  As I stand at the HR door, my arms feeling like they are about to fall off from holding onto fifty pounds worth of paper, I stare at Evaleen. I pray for the second time today to the mighty god THE, ruler of all things THE, that I misheard her.

  "What?"

  "Did Mr. Payne talk to you about the incident?"

  I can't seem to form words so I shake my head and she motions me to sit back down. This job is too good to be true. I knew something would happen to take it away. Not that working for a man like Mr. Payne is ideal, but it's necessary if I wish to enter the company's Executive Development Program. If I can tough it out with Mr. Payne for one year, prove to him I will make an excellent candidate for the program, I know he will recommend me. After that, I can practically pick my job at the company.

  But now, it's all slipping through my fingers as they slowly lose feeling from the weight of the paperwork. I move and sit back in the chair while placing the papers on her desk giving me a chance to stretch my pained arms.

  "Ms. Drake there was an incident in the company last year and Mr. Payne was involved."

  Oh holy gods in heaven and random nymph kings, thank fuck it's not about the video! I exhale and slump in the chair with relief. Evaleen mistakes it for concern and continues.

  "It's not as bad as it sounds. A former intern filed a sexual harassment suit against Mr. Payne. It never made it to court, but I did want to make you aware of it. In his fourteen year history at Mimir he has never had a complaint of that nature before, I want to reassure you. With that said, at no time are you to discuss Mr. Payne's personal matters to anyone inside or outside the company. Every few months we
find a journalist poking their nose around looking for more information, but we know not to say anything. One even tried to get a job here, but we run background checks on everyone, thorough checks. So, we figured out who he was rather quickly."

  My mouth is hanging open at this point. Oooh, my nosy side is scratching at me to get more. Down girl! Down! Must make a mental note to ask around to see if anyone will say anything. It must be juicy if she is warning me about it.

  "Of course I won't discuss Mr. Payne's personal life. He doesn't seem to like talking to me anyway. I think I get on his nerves a little."

  She laughs and shakes her head.

  "Oh that's a good one! He likes you, hon, trust me."

  I furrow my brow completely confused. She gives me another sympathetic glance before sighing. Am I that pathetic? Wait, don't answer that.

  "Did Mr. Payne do any of these things to you? Shout at you to leave? Slam the door in your face as you left? Tell you to shut up and, this is my personal favorite of his, 'I've heard farts that had more to say on the subject than you'?"

  "Uh ... noooo."

  She smirks at me and gets up, grabs my stack of paperwork holding it out for me.

  "Then he likes you. Why else would he have hired you? I probably shouldn't tell you this, but you survived this far, so what the hell. You are the tenth person we interviewed. He hated all of them. One of the guys ran out of his office in tears. He must see something in you. You're obviously made of some sort of Teflon material that you can put up with his crap. I just want you to know, he's great at his job. If it wasn't for him I don't think Mimir would be as successful as it is today. As much as he is a Payne in everyone's ass, he's great for the company. Stay on his good side and I think you will easily make it into the Executive Development Program."

  She winks at me as I grab the paperwork from her and make my way to the door.

  "How did you know I wanted to get into the program?"

  "Ms. Drake I'm in HR, we know everything."

  She chuckles in a way that sounds like it's coming from an evil villain in a movie and not a gorgeous tall blonde in HR. As the door closes I look at her and she winks again. I think she knows. Oh God, she knows.

  If she is aware of the video, then does Mr. Payne know? Is that why he wouldn't look at me during the interview?

  I make my way to the elevators and step on when one arrives. Upon my descent it occurs to me, perhaps that is why he likes me and wants me to work for him. The color has officially drained from my face.

  Chapter 6 - THE Cake ...

  I have been working for Mimir for three days and haven't seen Mr. Payne once. Of course, I have been stuck down in the basement the entire time. It hasn't been terrible, Mr. Shapiro is great. He's a talker. Loves to tell stories and get people to laugh. Sorting mail can get tedious and I think it's wonderful that Mr. Shapiro makes people want to come into work and do a good job. Perhaps Mr. Payne could take a lesson from him.

  "I hear there is cake in the conference room up on the twenty-eighth floor."

  I freeze at Cameron's words. He's one of the mail sorters and has been showing me the ropes the past few days. Helping me out especially when I screw up, which is often. Like when I sent the sales reps all the complaint letters meant for the support team. A riot almost ensued, but Cameron saved me and told the Sales Manager it was just a practical joke. The Sales Manager, Jeffrey, loves jokes and was laughing by the time Cameron was done talking with him.

  "Is something wrong, Morgana? I said cake, not, um ... you know."

  Finally, I shake myself out of it. Today is a wondrous day! Why? Because cake is love. Let me explain.

  I like cake. No that's not right, I LOVE cake. Cake and I have a relationship. We have done things together, multiple things. I'm not proud of some of them, but I never heard the cake complain. Some of those "incidents" may have been illegal, but we never got caught and I think I saw the cake smiling after it was over.

  Seriously, who doesn't like cake? No one that's who! If you don't like cake then I don't know you. Who are you and why have you come here?

  That is when Cameron says the four sweetest words in the English language, "It is birthday cake."

  Birds are chirping and I think I feel the warm sun penetrating the three foot thick cement wall while pushing its rays down twenty feet below the Earth's surface to warm my face. Glorious! Glorious birthday cake! It doesn't try to be fancy or over the top. Birthday cake doesn't have to be, it knows I will eat it. No flirting required.

  Birthday cake at the office, well that's just an awesome cherry on an already awesome cake! It's my third day on the job and who would have thought the greatest gift that can be bestowed upon a new employee, the office birthday party, would happen to me? It may only consist of a lousy sung version of "Happy Birthday," paper plates, woefully inadequate plastic ware and cake but it's the fact that cake is given freely that makes this shindig the hip place to be. It may be some random guy's birthday party that I have never met and will not see again for another year, but that doesn't matter. What is important is there is cake.

  Dropping the stack of envelopes I have in my hand I race to the elevators. I hear Cameron jog up behind me. He is breathing hard. Based on his size and his middle age, I can only assume cardio is not a part of his workout routine.

  The doors ding and part allowing us to enter. We are riding up, the numbers light up on the wall somewhere in the teens when his breathing finally settles.

  "I guess you like cake." He chuckles while elbowing me in the side.

  "Cake and I will be married one day. It doesn't know it yet, but I have been eyeing a ring."

  Cameron stares at me with wide eyes and then erupts in laughter while giving me a firm smack on the back. He likes to hit people on their back. The first day when I came home I swear there was a red hand mark on my shoulder blade.

  The door opens to the twenty-eighth floor and we emerge. Like a wolf following a scent to prey, I too use my nose to find out where the cake is hiding. Since I am human and do not have the heightened sense of smell similar to a wolf, I somehow wind up in front of the men's room.

  I look around and notice Cameron is nowhere to be found. He abandoned me that bastard. I turn to go when I hear a man's deep voice.

  "Ms. Drake?"

  I turn to see Mr. Payne exiting the bathroom.

  "Good afternoon, Mr. Payne."

  His lips twitch and there it is ladies and gentleman! The very subtle mouth twitch, ha, ha! He isn't a robot or cyborg or whatever being lives and breathes without feeling. Mr. Henrik Payne feels. He feels ... uh ... what? Why did his mouth move when I said good afternoon? Does he like the phrasing or that I remembered his name? Because I will admit I am not good at remembering names. I may have met a person twenty times and still not remembered their name.

  "You wear glasses?" His brow scrunches as he tilts his head.

  "Yes, normally I wear contacts but the dust from the basement irritates my eyes, so this week I'm wearing my glasses." I gave a slight smile. His eyes flickered from my glasses to my body for a fraction of a second before he returned my gaze and cleared his throat.

  "I'm glad I caught you, Ms. Drake. Please come into my office there are some matters I wish to discuss with you."

  He starts to walk past me when I blurt out, "But the cake?"

  Mr. Payne stops in his movement and swivels to face me.

  "Yes, I asked them not to do this for me, but Edgar and Jacob insisted. Do not worry about feeling you have to make an appearance because you are my assistant, they will understand."

  But I won't, Mr. Payne! I need my fix!

  "Cake ..." I half whine and half mumble as I follow him into his office.

  He moves to his chair and makes himself at home while I stumble like a zombie to the seat in front of his desk, my brain repeating the word "cake" over and over again in my head.

  "Mr. Shapiro has told me you have made an excellent member of his team this week. He likes your drive and
dedication. Normally I would have you work two weeks in each department but you seem to grasp things quickly. So, as of Monday you will move to the fifth floor, which is Accounting. Ms. Jackson is the manager there, she will direct you as to what you are to do."

  Accounting? Ugg! If ever there's a job that is the opposite of what I am to do in life, it is accounting. I took an elective accounting class in college and after two days the professor told me to drop the class. Two days! Even he could tell I would never get it.

  "All right, Mr. Payne."

  What am I going to say, no? I need this job so I have to suck it up and do a week of accounting. Hopefully it's only one week. What if I am so bad at it he makes me stay there for a month until I understand everything? I am starting to get nervous like one of those dreams where you show up naked for class and you find out there is a quiz that you never studied for.

  "Good."

  He stares at me for a moment, which is unusual for him, and then proceeds to reach over and open his desk drawer. Only his desk drawer won't budge. He gives a few good tugs and nothing happens. I hear him mumble under his breath as he gets up and puts all his weight into it.

  "Here let me help you with that, Mr. Payne."

  I get up and walk around his desk.

  "If I can't get it open, what makes you think you can?"

  He spits out the words while continuing to manhandle the drawer. I smirk and tap my foot. The mafia has ways of making people disappear; well I have ways of making things unstuck. It's one of my many talents. I would wink after that comment but that would seem inappropriate, especially in this scenario.

  "Do you want me to try or not?" My arms are folded over my torso letting him know I am doing him a favor.

  He lets go of the handle and chuckles. Mr. Payne actually laughs. I didn't think that was possible from him. The way everyone talks, especially the mailroom staff (they know everyone's business), you would think Mr. Payne was born with a hole in his brain where humor should be.