The air was drenched in sugary steam when Chester let himself into the kitchen through the tight door. Judy stepped back from the pot, his forehead creased with sweat and butter.
"Go vacuum the carpet," he ordered, picking up a huge spoon and plunging it into the pot to stir the boiling liquid. The molds need to be increased if they ever dreamed of meeting all sales for that day. Resting the spoon against the pot's interim, he began pouring more sugar and water and corn syrup into it, only to resume stirring all over again.
Changing from baked bread to candy had been one of the biggest decisions Chester had ever taken; aside from marrying Brock of course. He found himself stressed for days on end, continuously stirring and getting involved with powdered sugar and syrup till midnight when Brock would come in to lure him off with his hot tongue and soft caresses. He'd find himself locking up at once, hasty to get home to finish up their love play. When Brock's charm eventually cleared, he'd wake by four to resume stirring again, in the same copper pots, in the same molds.
Yet it still didn't feel enough, and this made him frustrated.
Up until then, the idea of hiring an additional hand hadn't kicked in yet. He was convinced he could manage it all just fine...that was until Preston popped out from the blue. The thin lad, though gullible and shy spoke volumes of how the business would progress if he was given the bar and such good looks and smartness had partly contributed to the success. Chock Candy became a lead, all other shops found worthy to follow.
Pot in hand, he began to pour the lemon liquid onto small round molds to harden. He enjoyed this very much when he could finally stand back and admire his accomplishment.
The back door opened almost immediately — Preston chucked his head in first then his slender frame. Chester nodded at him, subtly noting the slight pink blush stains splashed on both cheeks but he said nothing.
Having Preston take over from him, he padded upstairs to his private office to take in orders and mails on the Android phone. Brock had been reluctant to let him have it for the business because he felt Chester wasn't used to modern technologies as such having used a T-Mobile sidekick a great deal of his teen and adulthood.
But Chester had been adamant to have it and now he not only used it for bills and orders but for leisure as well. He set aside a special forty minutes each day when he'd slingback from work and played Roblox. It was his little secret, a guilty pleasure, and a very cool addiction.
The paperwork that morning was slightly much — remnants of the previous day orders. He managed to wrap things off in two hours. The phone sat on the table, not buzzing at all. He picked it up and began to worry if perhaps the data had run out. It was clocking the twenty-seventh tomorrow which meant the monthly subscription was supposed to last till midnight but chosen to finish early.
If only Brock hadn't been using it so much.
He sighed, partly irritated. The day wasn't getting any better and he felt airtight as those dying. Displeased, he began to scroll through the previous mails, most especially the ones belonging to Brock. It was a privacy violation but he wouldn't know, right? It was therefore wise to die once than twice and over again.
He earnestly began, tapping on one that had its capitalization scrawled. It was from a Tech company downtown Boston — an invoice for a new candy making machine. A grin slowly pulled at the corner of his lips — how thoughtful of Brock! With the new machine, he could fill in orders faster and sales would increase. He'd expand the shop further down the street and finally, only finally he'd persuade Brock so they'd have a child through surrogacy. The money saved up would be able to handle it all.
For the first time in weeks, he laughed.
Maybe Brock meant it to be a surprise for their anniversary which came up in a month. It was ruined now and Chester almost regretted reading the mails at all. It wasn't a surprise anymore but he'd pretend to be shocked all the same.
Brock's feelings wouldn't be hurt.
He surfed through the rest quietly, his attention was drawn to one from Rita Beasly. It was no surprise; she, being a client and all but this particular message was categorized under spam instead of important which all his business messages were and it came in last night. Brock had either forgotten to read it or had chosen to hide it. He double-tapped on it, his breath hitched as he took in the whole lettered body.
"My darling Brock," it began. "It's midnight right now but I can't sleep. I can't stop thinking about you....." the words poured out passionately.
He sat frozen, dread crawling in the pit of his stomach. He placed that particular mail under lock and pushed the phone away. So Brock had been cheating with that lousy woman. He should have known it'd come this far.
A relationship not of business, but something much more sexual.
Mutely, he sauntered downstairs — downcast. Preston and Judy worked hand in hand filling in the transparent containers with candy for the birthday party. They stopped now, alert as he flipped the open sign which hung on the entrance door to close.
"We're all taking the day off."