Chapter 25

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Peter quickly sets everything down, including the files covering the rest of the blueprints.

He gapes at them for a second before his brain boots up again and he fumbles for his phone. He only drops it once before snapping several pictures of the documents.

Footsteps echo outside – shit, that's Toomes.

Peter puts everything back in place, doesn't even lose balance completely, and has flipped the whiteboard not a second too late.

The baker enters, cursing under his breath. "Fucking useless, that's what he is; can't even shelf trays right, never shoulda hired the guy..."

Peter uses the rant to catch his breath. His mind's racing, pinging back and forth between worst case scenarios and what's probably more reasonable explanations.

"So, what do ya think?"

Oh, right, Toomes wants his opinion.

"Uh, the, um, t-the orange ginger cupcakes sound good? Or the, uh, matcha mocca muffins? I think the yoga moms would love them."

"Well, then my life's mission is complete if I earn the favor of yoga moms," Toomes snorts. "What about the chocolate donuts with bacon sprinkles?"

Peter doesn't have to fake his disgust. "We don't have that many pregnant customers, really."

"And no clue about revolutionary cuisine either, apparently. Fine, then I'm gonna keep 'em here. What about the regular order, the quantities still okay?"

"Uh, well... h-hang on, Mr. Toomes, let me check my notes..."

It takes them another fifteen minutes to hash out the exact numbers and possible back-ups in case of emergencies – like a bus full of senior citizens with a sudden craving for Manhattan's famous pastries – and then Peter's sent off with a gruff "Now leave me alone and for fuck's sake, son, get some sleep."

*

The Board loses their collective shit when Tony vetoes Gruber's money-saving, layoff-incurring plan and presents his alternative.

Five members call him a socialist, though three of them immediately shut up when Pepper reveals she's on Tony's side in all this.

"You're a goddamn disgrace to Howard's legacy!" Cavendish bellows. He's about a hundred years old and the only Board member who outlived both Tony's father and Obie, if for no other reason than his pull with senators.

"What, this is your limit? For real? You were fine with shutting down our weapons production but you hit the emergency breaks when I'm putting people first?"

"Everyone who fought in Nam woulda shut 'em down a hell of a lot sooner, Sonny," Cavendish says. "But they wouldn't condone this socialist agenda!"

"Or any other agenda he's pushing," Gruber mutters.

It all goes downhill from there.

At the end of the day, Tony has kicked Gruber, Cavendish and Mrs. You-Need-Jesus-In-Your-Life off the Board without a single word of protest from Pepper.

Remy is less thrilled.

"Three members! Now! You realize we can't refute the rumors this will cause? Not before –"

"– before I announce the revised plans for the plant in Atlanta, yeah, yeah. But hey, I was saved by a queer cop! I'm terminating the terminator seeds! That's gotta count for something, right?"

The look Remy gives him tells a different story, which is why Tony resorts to his favorite new way of escaping the life of a billionaire genius business man...

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