Sweeney Sweets

Chapter 16

"I can't believe you're late on your first day of work." I told Anakin as he walked in, only around ten minutes late which I hadn't really minded.

He rubbed his eyes with the fleshiest part of the palm of his hands and I smiled a small smile knowingly till someone voiced my exact thoughts. "Are you hungover?" McKay asked and Anakin groaned.

"Don't ask me that in front of Calliope."

Henrietta scoffed. "She knew you were a dense little rat when she hired you Kin." She mumbled and Emilia and snorted along with Effy from behind the counter.

"Little rat?" He grumbled the words as he walked further in, giving me a hug that anyone really old fashioned would deem inappropriate since he was my employee, but of course, I just tapped the idiots back.

"I'll be ten minutes early tomorrow, its pemdas or whatever."

"No, it really is not." Emilia said as she leaned off the counter and walked to the back, waving everyone off I shook my head lightly, looking over to the cake display.

Out of an anxious whim I set it one last time, which would've been a normal action if I hadn't already moved it around 5 times in the past 10 minutes.

Henri tapped my back, silently telling me to stop worrying because I swear, I was worrying, for what exactly? I think I still can't believe all of this.

I touched just about everything inside here to make its real, to make sure im not dreaming about this. 

I sent her a smile in reassurance that i'd be fine and then went to the back to start my day, prepping coffee grounds and smoothie makers so once people began to flood in I wouldn't go crazy.

McKay ended up turning the open sign around, grinning over at me and I smiled back.

Today would be great. 

✶ ✶ ✶

My first day surprisingly was great.

Business was slow earlier, but as soon as lunch time rolled in both familiar and unfamiliar faces popped in, one couple from Saturday that had said they'd be getting married actually came in too, wanting to set a date up to finalizing catering, of course this was my first time catering but I intended to make everything so beautifully that it looked like my hundredth. 

After lunch it was less busy again till 4pm when people came for coffees and sandwiches and then most buying cake slices or cupcakes to take home to their families.

There was only one mishap where Anakin almost dropped the entire flour bag onto the floor, but luckily both Effy and I were nearby to keep from that disaster ensuing.

But now around 8pm, I was throughly exhausted, laying on the couch but staring at the kitchen.

I was far too lazy to walk over there.

But I really wanted some food.

Starve or sleep? Well I can't sleep because im starving so I guess what I should be doing is given.

With a sigh I got off the couch, practically rolling off the side and lugging my way over, eyes half closed but i'd made it there, taking the pot and opening it, taking out a spoon and plate just when my brother came downstairs.

"What would you get a 25 year old asshole who has just about everything they want, for their birthday?" Ambrose asked me after he was done showering and changing, wiping his hair with a towel and I looked up from the food i'd been dishing out for myself.

He came over to the kitchen and made his way around the place to get a plate to dish himself some of the quick ratatouille i'd made when I got home from work.

"Can I ask who's the asshole you're speaking about?" I questioned him as I walked around to get a glass for water, filling it to the brim before taking a long gulp when he'd said, "Rhys."

I choked on my water, snorting as the burn from the action came to my nose. I blinked away the tears lining my eyes and asked, "Since when?"

"Since 25 years ago."

I almost threw the glass in hand at him. "Yeah, I figured but why didn't you tell me?"

"Honestly, i'd forgotten till his brother brought it up." He admitted and I looked over to him with an obvious look of disapproval, I was too admittedly a little shocked that his brother would know that little piece of information since he reportedly had shit ton of siblings to be remembering their birthdays.

"I planned on getting him nothing but we usually got each other shit like, every 2 years-"

Every 2 years?

"So.." I shrugged at that, turning back and leaning on the counter top. "What does he like?"

"Like I know, when we were younger he read a shit load of comics."

My lips tilted upward. Nerdy, very cute, but also just a little bit nerdy, in a good way.

"Comics?"

He nodded and I giggle causing him to snort. "Thats not even the funniest thing, you know the idiot can play the piano? Definitely some rich people shit."

I snorted. "Did he want to?"

He shook his head. "His father forced him to do it since his brother's chose to do sports."

"Why didn't he do sports?"

"Rhys hated majority of the school, couldn't stand the basketball or football players, so he chose piano and self taught so he didn't have to interact." He said as he shook his head and admittedly, that sounded a lot like something Rhys would do.

That was pretty hot too, if I had to admit.

He did have piano player hands.

I'd noticed that whenever he'd crack his knuckles, an action he did quite a lot of the time, probably had done it so many times in his lifetime that he'd left behind faint red bruises over each knuckle that im pretty sure had probably formed over time.

My cheeks burned at the thought of his damn hands, an inappropriate thought crossing my mind as I looked ahead and I almost damn well slapped myself, oh fuck, no.

No!

"Comics and piano, what a combination." I told my brother a little joking in my tone and he snorted. "Right?"

Honestly it was an interesting, weird but hot combination but I wouldn't be admitting that aloud.

"He can play chess too, and he likes cars but he doesn't use majority of his."

Honestly, everything i'd learnt about Emrhys was relatively interesting. All these things that could be considered relatively nerdy were hot when you thought of him doing it.

"Get him a car."

He snorted. "No way in fuck am I gonna waste my money on a car he won't use."

Good call. "Get him alcohol."

He actually gasped at that, "Wait, you're fucking right Dylan!"

I shrugged with a giggle, "Could never have too much alcohol."