Burn Me Like the Sun

I was able to sneak out to the patio of Grande’s, which, as Valenti had guessed, was closed off thanks to the muggy weather. I left Fran in the queue and asked her to order my usual while I hid myself away to call Louis. I was too nervous and too stressed out to even think about waiting until I was home after catering to give him a ring. Part of me also knew that if I waited, I’d end up changing my mind, and I’d give myself hell for it later if – or more likely, when – I lost the opportunity. I had a nasty habit of getting my fingers smashed by rapidly closing windows.

I tucked myself into a corner of the brick wall that looked like it would hide me away from the prying eyes of Fran and anyone who would kick me out of the closed-off patio. I would have just gone in the bathroom or tucked myself into one of the many leather chairs in the corner of Grande’s, but I couldn’t risk any strangers listening in on me, or even Valenti coming back sooner than I’d thought, only to overhear my call the second he came over to me to complain about the queue at The Lucky Wok.

After all, it’s not like I could pull a lie out from my arse to shove in Valenti’s face while I was talking with Louis. I was a horrible liar. Not to mention, Valenti had probably already sensed something weird going on in the van. I was sure he’d be onto me sooner or later. I just prayed it would be later rather than sooner, and not because of my own doing.

Once I was sure that I was alone, I pulled out my mobile from my pocket and flipped it open. It took a while to find Louis’s number in the midst of calls that I’d gotten since Monday when he had asked me for coffee, as I still hadn’t a need to put him in my contacts. I swallowed hard when I realized that if I went through with calling him now, I’d probably have to add him in sooner or later. And just the thought of asking him to pose for a picture so I could put him in my contacts folder made me nauseous.

I steeled myself with a shaky breath before pressing the green button and pushing my phone to my ear just as a light sheet of mist sprinkled the concrete patio in front of me.

25 seconds. Five rings. And then his voicemail. With the way I held my breath, I swear it felt like I could have watched every movie in my collection in just those few seconds. Or maybe even managed to find it in myself to forgive my mum with the way time moved so slowly. Anticipating Louis’s voice after every ring felt like pausing at the apex of a roller coaster, only now, I couldn’t see the tracks. I couldn’t trace the twisted, tangled path in front of me.

Even though it was less than half a minute, my legs felt like jelly just standing there as I waited for Louis to pick up. I settled with leaning against the wall, clutching my side as my stomach did a gold medal-worthy gymnastics routine.

“Louis here. Sorry I couldn’t catch you. Leave a message after... Well, you know the drill.”

“‘The drill,’” I muttered, rolling my eyes. It sounded like he spent five minutes rehearsing in the mirror before he recorded his voicemail greeting. But being the kind of person he was, I couldn’t really blame him. He probably had to constantly worry about keeping up appearances, even with something as private as his voicemail.

When the line beeped, my eyes got wide and I suddenly lost my voice. Come to think of it, I probably should have rehearsed in a mirror as well. If I had, at least I wouldn’t have sounded like the righteous idiot I was about to. I could only buy a couple seconds of time by clearing my throat, my eyes glazing over as I stared off into the distance.

“Hey, em... Hey Louis. ‘S Blake. Em...” I pressed my palm to my forehead, hoping the pressure on my skull would push my brain into thinking of something remotely sensible to spit out instead of a bunch of disconnected syllables.

But I never had that kind of luck when it came to Louis, apparently.

“I... I don’t know why I rang you, actually.”

I offered up a chuckle, weak and low in my throat. I rolled my eyes and folded my arm over my chest, my fingers wrapping around my elbow. I was still, for the most part, speechless. I was never one to creep about my words like they were live grenades. And I hated it. It was so... not me.

I couldn’t really tell him that he was pretty much all that had occupied my brain for the past three days, not that it was like I stood any chance of escaping anything to do with Louis in the first place. I at least still held on to some sense of tact. And I couldn’t really ask him for coffee again. I didn’t want to seem needy.

And that’s when I thought of the best thing to say.

“Just checking in to see if you’re doing okay, I suppose. And... oh, hell. If you want to get tea again, just give us a ring or something.” I licked my lips and ducked my head. I began to backtrack, hopelessly weary of how I was sounding like a total loon. “Though with how I acted, em...” I bit my lip, trying to hold back the words that crept at the bottom of my throat. I could never stay on script. I swear, my mouth was more independent than all of Destiny’s Child combined.

My fingers buzzed, and my free hand curled into a fist, still shaking even with my nails pinching crescent moons into my palm. My body was just begging for a reason to be angry with myself. Clearly, I found one. I was tripping over my words without a sense in the world what I was even doing. And I despised myself for it, more so than I did Louis, as he was clearly the cause of all of it. I couldn’t feel him out. I had no clue what his game was, and it was driving me mad. I prided myself on being able to read people; honestly, it was probably what I was best at. But first with Fran this morning, and Louis all week... I was a wreck. And I was slowly bubbling over with impatience and self-loathing.

My last words were short and jumpy as they flew from my mouth. I just wanted to hang up before I caused myself even more embarrassment.

“I... yeah. Bye.”

If my flip phone had been a smart phone, I’m sure I would have shattered it with the force I used to smack it shut.

“Blake?”

I whipped around, spotting Fran just at patio entrance, two brown bags and a cardboard cup holder in her hands as she held the door open with her shoulder.

“You alright?”

I nodded and slipped my mobile into my pocket. “Left him a message.” I shrugged and turned around, making my way towards her. “In hindsight, I should’ve just gotten the clue and hung up instead.”

“I’m sure he’s just busy,” she reassured me.

I snorted. “I couldn’t care less if he called me back. All I’m asking for is a quick death after that voicemail I left him.”

She winced. “That bad?” She let the door close behind us, and I grabbed the drinks from her hands.

“I think it’s safe to say that I won’t be getting any calls from Louis any time soon.” I pulled out the chair across from Fran’s, setting our drinks down. “Not... Not that I want him to.”

Fran gave me a weird look, but it was soon wiped off her face when Valenti plopped his food onto our table, collapsing into the seat next to me.

“That was quick,” I said, eyeing him. He had his Blackberry nearly pressed against his nose again as he ignored his food and leaned on the back legs of his chair.

“Mmm,” he mumbled, barely paying me any attention.

“What do you have your mobile shoved in your face for, Val? It’s lunch. Join us,” Fran told him, ripping off the paper from her straw. I reached for my sandwich and grabbed my coffee from the cup holder in front of me.

“Trying to find some photos of that bird Louis went out with Monday,” he mumbled, his thumbs flying over the keypad. “She sounds cute.”

Fran and I exchanged the quickest look, and I nudged my chin in Valenti’s direction, widening my eyes as I took a sip of my coffee, nearly gagging as the hot liquid scorched my tongue.

“So I hear you’re shagging Sydney.”

I nearly breathed a sigh of relief as I resisted the urge to kiss Fran’s feet. At that moment, she was the Jesus to my Pope.

Valenti’s head shot up, and he narrowed his eyes at Fran, his cheeks going the slightest shade of pink. It was hard to see him blush, though, as he was already so tan to begin with, and his thick stubble didn’t help either. But I knew that no matter what he’d shoot out, he was definitely embarrassed. Fran and I had known that he was thinking of asking Sydney, one of the summer recruits, out for drinks. She was just about to start uni in September, along with a couple other girls Margaret had hired. And she was cute, too, with straight brown hair that went all the way to her lower back and a deep dimple in each of her cheeks.

“Maybe,” he said, shutting off his phone and sticking it back into his pocket. “Who’d you hear that from?”

“Bollocks!” I called, ripping off the wax paper from my ham sandwich. “No way in hell you’d get with her. She’s way out of your league, mate.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, finally grabbing his food and ripping the plastic bag off. “I could if I wanted to. But I hear she’s got a friend.”

“A friend?” Fran laughed, the sound bright and clear. “Is that what they’re calling them these days?”

Valenti shrugged, snapping apart his chopsticks and rubbing them together. “Like I’d know any better than you. But I’m telling you, Newcastle, if I could, I would, so—” He snapped his fingers and thumb together like the mouth of an alligator, shooting me a sarcastic open-mouthed grin.

I just snorted. Valenti tried kicking my feet under the table, but he missed and smacked his foot into my chair. He winced before settling with giving me the stink eye.

“I will say this, though: Sydney is fit as hell,” he mumbled, finally starting on his food. He poked his rice with his chopsticks and a few pieces flew out of his takeaway container into mine. I plucked it off my sandwich and flicked the rice back at him, and he grinned.

“I’d definitely kill for an arse like hers,” Fran said from behind a mouthful of sandwich. She never was the most graceful eater.

“Aye,” I agreed, flipping open my sandwich and picking out the pickles. I tossed one in my mouth and saw Fran leer from the corner of my eye. She always hated pickles.

“You still thinking of asking Margaret for summer holiday off?” Valenti asked, pulling out an egg roll.

I shrugged, putting my sandwich back together. “Yeah. I’m hoping she’ll say yes. It’s only a few weeks. And I’ve been doing this for two years straight.”

“And she does have all those girls on the backburner. So maybe she’ll say yes,” Fran offered. I spotted a bit of mustard dripping from the corner of her mouth and offered her a napkin and a disgusted grimace. “Thanks, love. And I’ll still be here, too, so it’s not like she’ll have all newbies on deck.”

“Ain’t I lucky,” Val groaned sourly, smirking all the same. Fran rolled her eyes.

“Oi, if she does end up letting me have time off, I might be budged to get yous a round at Austin’s to show my thanks.”

Valenti shoved the rest of his egg roll in his mouth and reached over to clap me on the back. “You ain’t half bad, Blake. But I’m just sayin’, Marge letting you off all summer is about just as likely as...” He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, you getting coffee with Louis Tomlinson.”

I only hoped Valenti was right.

|||

I shouldered a silver tray of crab cakes and tossed my empty platter back on the prep table for Valenti to fill up again. The crash made me wince, but I should have expected as much, as I had been working at Veal on Wheels for two years now. Dishes and platters were always crashing around everywhere.

I nudged Valenti in his side with my elbow. “Is that the last of the veal?”

“I think we’ve got more up on that stack over there.” He nudged his chin to a rack of trays in the corner, a layer of plastic wrap hanging off the top. Val kept his eyes on the two half-filled trays in front of him, his hands flying above them as he rushed to fill them back up. “I can check, but right now I’m in the middle of a piping hot threesome with the crab cakes and stuffed zucchini.”

I grabbed the handkerchief I kept in my back pocket and patted at the sweat that matted my hair against my forehead. Valenti was an impossibly bright red, struggling to keep himself afloat in the midst of servers and the cold food that needed to be prepped. Just last minute, the client’s guests had a sudden craving for our signature roasted veal, Margaret’s original recipe, and we were starting to run dangerously short.

Fortunately though, the entire fundraiser had been a laugh and a half, and it was almost over, too, so I wasn’t worrying as much as I could have been. Luckily, I usually kept quite calm during the busier events. The only time I ever stressed out was with any snobby clients. They tended to grate my nerves and I always had a hell of a time keeping my teeth firmly clamped down on my tongue. I’d only been a server for a year now; before, I was in the back with Valenti, prepping the food because I couldn’t be arsed to keep myself quiet around the more horrid clientele. But with some major guidance from both Fran and Margaret, I was able to find my way around the annoyingly snarky guests and get the raise that came with the bowtie.

“How are we doing on the veal?”

I nearly jumped out of my trainers when Margaret came strolling behind Val and me, setting a hand on either of our shoulders.

“Christ, Marge, you nearly made me knock over my tray!” My hand was pressed to my chest, and I only glanced at her over my shoulder before I grabbed the platter of stuffed zucchini that Valenti had just finished filling up.

“I think we have another.” Valenti locked eyes with his assistant, who was busy rinsing off the leftover trays across the kitchen. “Oi, Peter, go check that rack, mate!”

“That’s good.” Margaret nodded and folded her arms, circling around the prep table. “Very good. I’m glad we had that backup on hand.”

“Hey, Margaret, before I forget,” I breathed, balancing the tray of zucchini in its normal spot on my other shoulder, “I’ve got a question for ya.”

“Oh?” She looked up from the platters in front of a fussed Valenti. He tossed up his hands when he saw Peter having trouble pulling out the trays in the corner, though, and left the prep table to help him out. “What’s it about?”

“Well, later, though.” I licked my lips and adjusted the crab cakes on my shoulder yet again. “It’s about my summer holiday.”

Margaret smiled and nodded knowingly before waving me back outside to the event. I was sure she had heard me practicing my speech I’d planned with Fran in between breaks. I had my heart set on getting my summer break off to spend at home. I never thought I’d say it, but I missed my dad. And my baby brother Cooper, too, even though he was usually a little shit, especially around me. And I missed Newcastle, if not just for my family.

“Just grab me once we’re clearing out.” She stopped me before I pushed myself through the double doors and out of the kitchen, and plucked a crab cake from my tray for herself before spacing them back together evenly. “I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out.”

I was eager for the next half hour to finish up the fundraiser. It was nearly done, and the half hour I spent holding up trays in the main hall of the venue seemed to crawl by like a snail on the sidewalk during the hotter summer afternoons. But soon enough, the guests dispersed, loads of fat donations were collected, and Fran was on my tail, complaining about the people in her section that she had to serve – a bunch of rowdy, perverted old men that couldn’t keep their eyes off her arse – as I navigated my way through the crowded kitchen between stacks of dirty trays and frazzled servers, praying I’d run into Margaret before she could get hassled with breaking down the equipment.

I just spotted her usual silky black French braid next to the backdoor exit when my mobile started to ring in my pocket, loud enough that I could clearly hear it over the bustle of the kitchen. Even a couple of my coworkers eyed me amusedly, as Margaret hated when we kept our phones on us while we were serving. It didn’t even matter if we had them on silent or even turned off, she’d usually let servers have it if she found out.

I ducked behind a tall stack of dirty trays before Margaret could spot me and yanked my phone out of my pocket. I could have sworn that I put it on silent, but there it was, my Star Wars ringtone screeching out at one of the worst possible times once again. I should have expected as much, as I’d had the same phone since I started secondary school.

Fran backtracked and found me leaning against a table, my mobile already flipped open and shoved against my ear. I could feel a teasing flame lick at the end of my normally short fuse.

I hadn’t bothered checking the caller ID, but to be on the safe side, as my dad – always the loving disciplinarian – would scold me if he caught me acting rude, I bit back the many choice words that were bubbling up. Instead of caustically greeting whoever was on the other end, I let out a quiet sigh as Fran gave me an imploring look, her eyes tracing the light blush that had crept across my cheeks.

“Hey, babe.”

I barked out a bitter laugh. Of course.

I could hear Louis stifle a chuckle of his own. “Surprised you called.”

I pried my eyes from my feet and spotted Sydney and her equally fit cohort Morgan weaving between the tables, giving me curious looks as they went.

“Hey, mate.” I stretched out, grabbing Fran’s arm and gesturing wildly with my eyes to my mobile.

Her eyes widened, and she reached out and pulled on my wrist. Soon enough I found myself in the corridor between the kitchen and the event hall, Fran’s and my footsteps echoing around us as we rushed past the dozens of oil paintings that lined the hallway.

“Sorry if I caught you in the middle of your very important pop star duties.”

Fran smacked my shoulder with the back of her hand at that one. I forgot for a moment that she had never really heard me be shirty with Louis. But even then, I wasn’t going to hold back, so she was about to get an earful.

Louis laughed, and the sound came out clear enough that Fran even noticed, her brow wrinkling quizzically. “Actually, you did.”

“Oh? A bit of truth or dare for Shout?” I bit my lip and reached up to undo my bowtie. “Or were you busy describing your perfect first date?”

“No, nothing that exciting.” He paused, and I took a gander up and down the corridor a second time to make sure no one had followed us. The last thing I needed was one of my coworkers to find out that I was chatting up Louis Tomlinson. With the way they gossiped, everyone, including Margaret, would find out in ten seconds flat. “Just a photo op for some radio station. I’d probably bore you to death with the details.”

While Louis rattled off, Fran pushed herself off the opposite wall, arms crossed, and took the spot next to me, leaning her ear close to my mobile so she could better hear what Louis was saying.

“I’m already blacking out just hearing you speak,” I teased, reaching up and undoing a couple buttons. Fran scoffed at that.

“Funny.”

“But I actually caught the tail end of your interview from this morning. Granted, I was on my way to lunch when I heard it.”

“Oh?” He sounded surprised, almost nervous. But it was hard to tell when I couldn’t see his face. It bothered me more than I would have liked.

I bit back a smirk, switching my mobile to my other ear. Fran nearly tripped over my outstretched legs as she scrambled to my other side. “So who’s this ginger friend of yours? She sounds like trouble.”

“You have no idea.”

Tried as I might, I couldn’t hold back the smile that crept across my face. I reached up and pushed my bangs off my forehead and stole a glance at Fran, who was still glued to the other side of my phone like she was the one having a chat with Louis.

“So why did you call me back?” I asked, dropping my hand and letting it smack against my side.

“Well, I was wondering if you’d be free for another coffee some time. Some time being now, of course.”

I started, and tossed Fran a look. She looked just as surprised as I felt, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. She gestured at me to answer, her hands flailing away, and I swallowed hard before finally speaking up.

“Coffee does sound good right about now, actually.” I bit on the inside of my cheek before going on. “But I’m kind of busy at the moment.”

“Busy?” Instead of sounding surprised like I thought he would, Louis seemed almost skeptical. Then again, my aloof, practically bipolar voicemail probably gave his noggin a good strain. And it wasn’t like he had much occasion to put his brain into overdrive as of late, touring the world with his best mates and all that.

“Unlike you, I actually have to work for a living. You know, actual labor. It’s not exactly the same as hip-thrusting like a fool on stage.”

Louis chuckled lowly. “I’d say I take offense to that, but then you’d just be pleased with yourself. And we can’t have that.”

“Don’t tease me,” I shot back as I smirked.

“So, what, you’re at work?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Catering in Greenwich today. We’re wrapping up, actually.” I snorted. “You should be glad you called now and not earlier. I would’ve ripped you a new one not five minutes ago.”

“Your ancient mobile still giving you trouble?”

My eyebrows shot up past my bangs. I was kind of surprised that he remembered. “Silent mode’s mucked up, I reckon.” I shrugged and pulled out my bowtie from under my collar, shoving it into my pocket. “My mobile blows dogs for quarters.”

Fran finally let go and guffawed next to me. I could only pray that Louis didn’t hear on the other end, but I should’ve known that any prayers I had that mentioned his name would never get answered.

“Oi, what was that?”

I gave Fran a muted look, but she just shrugged and went back to pressing her ear to the other side of my mobile. “Suppose you won’t believe me if I told you it was a car horn.”

He laughed easily. “No.”

Fran gave me a half-arsed apologetic look before firmly pressing her ear back to my phone. “‘S Fran,” I sighed. “She has her ear glued to my mobile, I swear to god.”

“Yeah, I remember her. I don’t mind if she’s eavesdropping.” Fran practically beamed at that. “So, wait, how are you getting home? You live quite a ways from Greenwich if I remember it right.”

When Fran heard this, she jumped right in front of me, gesturing wildly with her hands again. All I could make out from the mess was her miming a car and pointing to my mobile. Apparently she was adamant that she live vicariously through me since she couldn’t wrangle a pop star of her own.

“Why do you ask?” I ventured, my voice hovering dangerously on the line of paranoid. Fran started nodding vigorously in front of me and clasped her hands together, pressing them to her mouth as she grinned.

“Well, erm… I guess I just want to hang out again.”

Hang out. I was not the mate he went out for drinks with on game night, if that’s what he was on to. Not yet, at least. I still barely knew him. Louis was going to have to do a lot more convincing for me to give away my location if he wanted to just “hang out.”

“You... wanted to hang out?” I repeated lamely, still at a loss for words.

He cleared his throat, his voice becoming tighter as he spoke. “Well, yeah. I wanted to see you again. I like you, Blake. Erm...” He sighed. “I mean, you know, not like you, like you, I just… yeah.”

“Gee, thanks for clearing that up, mate. Now if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go hang out by the jungle gym and drink my juice pouch because we’re still in grammar school.”

I couldn’t really help but be miffed. I already knew he wasn’t interested in me that way. I’d stolen his mobile and bruised his ego every single chance I had, so it was a wonder he was still even hanging around. And besides, who asks someone to get coffee for a first date, anyway? I wasn’t some daft bint that needed everything explained to her. And I really hated the thought of Louis seeing me that way.

“Blake.” His voice was suddenly snappy and low. Finally, I was getting to him. I was relieved but at the same time just barely taken aback by his tone. I shouldn’t have been surprised, though. It was what I wanted. And now with all my poking and prodding, I was finally getting a better sense of Louis, as twisted as my ways were.

“Sorry, mate. It’s just... Wasn’t, em, aren’t I a right piece of work? I mean...” I scoffed, reaching up to push my bangs off my forehead. “Hell, if I were you, I would’ve just gotten a new mobile instead of fetching it in the middle of the night from some random person.”

Louis sighed, letting a pregnant pause waver between us. “I can give you a ride back to your flat if you need it. I’m just now leaving the station. I’m nearby, just in Southwark. I mean. I think I’m close. I’ve only really, like, actually lived in London for a few months. That’s nearby, right? Or am I just talking out of my arse?”

“You usually do talk out of your arse, but no, you’re right.” I sighed, already regretting telling Louis that he hadn’t gotten his London boroughs mixed up. “Southwark’s nearby.”

“I can pick you up, then. We can grab a coffee on the way back, maybe. Granted traffic’s not too bad. I’d just like to see you again. Maybe you’ll let me.” His words were rushed, so much that I almost had a hard time keeping up with his grinding voice. That was saying something, too, as Fran could’ve revealed that she was the love child of an auctioneer and I wouldn’t have been surprised.

I snapped my eyes to the end of the corridor when I heard a couple of loud bangs. The kitchen doors were being pushed open, squeaking away, and out of all people to come barreling down the hall, it just had to be Valenti. Sweat showed through the back of his dress shirt, and the lightest tint of a blush peeked under his dark stubble. He was dragging a cart stacked high with large serving platters, probably making his way to the exit ramp around the front.

“The Indigo,” I finally told Louis. “Best make it quick or I’ll just leave with my mates.” I licked my lips and lowered my voice, giving Fran a pointed look and nudging my chin in Val’s direction. But she had already started to speed walk down the corridor to distract Valenti before he could overhear me. “And don’t come inside. Seriously. Just... just keep a distance. A couple of blocks, at the least. Wait for me in that ostentatious car of yours.”

I licked my lips and glanced back at a successfully distracted Valenti, who was nodding along to whatever story Fran had slung at him, his eyebrows pinched together. I finally let out a stale whoosh of air from my lungs as I thanked the ceiling above me that I had Fran for a best mate.

“And try not to bring those bloody paps with you either, alreet? I’ve got a reputation to uphold here, mate.”

Louis only had a good laugh before hanging up.

If I had known that twenty minutes later, a string of nosy paparazzi would be camped outside the front gate of the Indigo with cameras at the ready, I would have never even called Louis at lunch, let alone invited him to stop by and pick me up. But then again, I was never really one to think before I spoke. And now it was going to royally bite me in the arse.

Valenti was the first person to notice them, as he had to use the ramp exit at the front of the Indigo in order to pack up all the trays into a Veal on Wheels van that Margaret had parked out behind the front gates. Less than a minute after he left with a second stack of trays, he came barreling down the corridor, his Nikes smacking against the hardwood floors, and burst through the double doors to the kitchen, nearly knocking down Sydney and a couple other servers in the process.

He spotted Margaret chatting with Fran and me in the back almost instantly and pulled his beat-up snapback off his head before striding to where we were standing, just near the kitchen’s back exit.

“If you hired a celebrity and decided not to tell me, now would be a good time to spill the beans because there’s, like, six or seven blokes with cameras waiting outside.” He sucked in another breath before continuing, his cheeks only getting pinker with every word. “I had to close the gate up because they started sneaking in. I think I got all of them out. But there’s still a couple guests’ cars in the lot.” He reached up and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, his chest rising rapidly as he sucked in shallow smoker’s breaths.

“McGordy’s still hanging around for the rest of the deposit,” Margaret said, glancing at both Fran and me before brushing her palm over her braid. “Follow me and we’ll go see what…” The rest of her words got lost in the distance as she pulled Valenti by the arm and guided him out of the kitchen, talking at breakneck speed as they walked.

“Do you think—”

“No.” I shook my head. “He wouldn’t have.”

“Well, maybe not.” Fran shrugged, nudging my shoulder with hers. “That purple car of his is kind of hard to miss. Maybe he just got followed or something.”

“For his sake, I hope that’s what happened. ‘Cause there goes any chance I had for a summer holiday.” I groaned, tossing back my head. “I swear, I’m going to kick his fat arse.”

Fran bit back a laugh as she gave me a sympathetic look and squeezed my shoulder.

I didn’t think my temper could have gotten worse, but I was proven wrong not ten seconds later when the kitchen’s scuffed, white double doors were pushed open, smacking against the wall with the force put behind them.

“Pop me out of the oven, because I am so done.”

I glowered at the double doors, where Louis had just waltzed in, looking not one worse for wear with his hair perfectly blow-dried in place above his head and his wrinkle-free knit jumper rolled up at the middle of his forearms. His cheeks were dotted in stubble and if I squinted hard enough, I could’ve sworn that he was wearing foundation.

“I’m going to smack that smirk right off his face,” I muttered, wearily eyeing the servers that had started to stare at Louis. Even if he weren’t some world famous pop star, they’d still have their eyes glued to him because only employees ever stepped foot in the kitchen. Margaret wouldn’t even let the clientele in the prep area, so one fifth of One Direction was plenty enough to turn some heads. I could already see Morgan, Sydney’s for-all-intents-and-purposes Siamese twin, double over in unbelieving laughter.

“Try not to do too much damage, love,” Fran told me, already starting for the opposite end of the kitchen where a few of my younger coworkers were gathered, whispering to each other in hushed voices. I was thankful she was there to help me with damage control, as I was not in the mood to handle the gossipy servers. Surely I already lost the chance to go back to Newcastle for my summer holiday, what with the red carpet-ready photographers parked outside. “People will notice if he gets a bloody nose, especially with all those paparazzi out front.”

Fran gave Louis an unusually curt nod before brushing right past him and making a beeline for Sydney and Morgan, who were now whispering to each other by the electric cooker near the back of the kitchen as they stared at me. I grabbed Louis by the wrist before he even stopped in front of me and dragged him behind a large stack of plastic dish bins that Valenti thankfully hadn’t gotten to yet. I would have found us a more private place for me to bash his head in, but I’d only catered at the Indigo once before and I didn’t feel like getting lost with Louis, especially since Valenti would be too eager to track us down.

“What the fuck is going on?” I hissed, finally letting go of his arm. I had to tilt my chin up just the slightest to lock my eyes with his eerily soft blue ones.

He glanced down at his wrist as he rubbed it, and his cheeks hinted at the palest of pinks. “I couldn’t find a spot to park, so I tried pulling ‘round to the back, but it was locked up, so I parked in the front. The gate was open.”

“No, the paparazzi, you dipshit!” I gestured with my arm to my left, my brow pinching in anger. “Why are they outside?”

“I guess I got followed.” He gave me a cowed look, biting his lip. “But I swear, Blake, I wasn’t trying to. I was going to wait outside for you but then some bloke saw me once I parked and flipped a shit.”

“Valenti saw you?” I groaned, rubbing my fingers over my eyes. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, babe.” He reached up and brushed his fingers over the close-shaven hair at the nape of his neck.

I groaned, disgusted, and flipped my hand at him. “Don’t think calling me babe is going to get you out of this one, Louis. God knows it just pisses me off even more.”

I crossed my arms and took a peek behind me around the plastic bins. I just spotted Margaret as she marched in, Valenti quick on her heels. She saw me before I could hide behind the bins again, and beckoned me towards her with a curled finger, a thin eyebrow quirked.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’m off to get sacked,” I mumbled, turning back around and staring at my trainers.

Louis’s eyebrows shot up, and the ashamed look on his face nearly drove me to sympathy, especially with how fast his ears turned crimson.

“And for the love of everything right in this world, which is looking to be quite scarce at the moment, just leave, please, before you get Fran chucked, too,” I told him, locking eyes with him one last time.

I didn’t stick around to see the guilt-ridden look Louis gave me before turning on my heel and making the walk of shame to my waiting boss, a heavy blush of my own crawling across my cheeks.