Always Cas | ✔

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN; part one

     I have this feeling. It's hard to explain but it's close to dread. I'm anxious the moment I wake up and head into Weston's. I don't know why that is. Nothing is happening, nothing has happened. There's no reason to be anxious.

     Charles comes in and we work to get the morning batches done in silence. I've started thinking about a Thanksgiving menu, but vaguely. I've got one more Weston's After Hours before Thanksgiving, on the twenty-third, and I'm thinking of doing some twists on the classic Thanksgiving staples.

     Tasha walks into the kitchen quietly. She's clutching her phone to her chest, eyebrows furrowed, and neither of us notice her until she eventually clears her throat. "Something happened," she says slowly.

     "Is Opal okay?" I ask concerned, setting down the piping bag I'm holding.

     "Oh, Opal's fine," she says. "This doesn't have to do with me. It's about you."

     "What about me?" I ask, confused.

     "You remember that food critic, right?" she asks, tipping her head.

     I nod slowly. "Luke Doucet. Yes, why?"

     "He wrote about you," she responds.

     "Yeah, the review. I read it. You read it. We all read it."

     She shakes her head. "He wrote about you again. Personally." She holds her phone out, looking down at it. "The Gay Vet Who's Turning Tides in the Food Service Industry," she says and slowly looks back up at me. Charles turns to stare at me, too. I know my eyes are wide but the rest of my face feels like it's remaining neutral.

     "Keep going," I say, then add, "Please."

     "A few weeks ago I had the privilege of securing a highly coveted seat at Weston's After Hours, the coffee house infamous for its unique and playful cupcake designs that's now a newly turned pop up restaurant. The Chef, Dresden Gibson, is a five-tour veteran having served active duty in Afghanistan from two-thousand and nine to two-thousand twelve. He received a Distinguished Service Cross for his time, but what's more distinguished about this experience is apparently the men in his platoon, namely, Michael Weston who he named his shop after and lost in the line of duty in two-thousand and eleven."

     She glances up at me again like she is unsure if she should continue. Even though I've just rehashed these details with Cas, with Jack, too, in New York, hearing them from Tasha, knowing that they're in print for all the world to see is different. I'm having a hard time moving air.

     I nod my head so she'll continue.

     "A source who wishes to remain anonymous, but served closely to Sergeant Gibson states the relationship between him and Private Weston was remarkably intimate, considering their stations, and that it didn't surprise him that Sergeant Gibson had named the store after the soldier. The source states it was, in fact, Private Weston's dream to open his own cupcake shop. It seems that Dresden Gibson was honoring the wishes of the soldier. One can only speculate the relationship the two had, but it was clearly impactful. At the root of all of Gibson's creations, you'll find love — love for the craft and maybe even love for the soldier he's honoring. If you haven't stopped by and had yourself a cupcake, yet, there's a train that pulls right into Aurora and the Falling For You is a speciality that sells out fast. You're welcome in advance for putting you on your new addiction."

     Tasha stops and the room is silent. I don't know what to say.

     Charles breaks the silence. "Any publicity is good publicity, right?"