James slammed his knife into the chopping block, then called out, “You bloody fucking wanker, where is my beef?”

A gob of beef hit him in the face as his sous chef appeared with a huge plate of meat. She had bit off a large gob of raw meat, then spit it at him.

“Fucker.”

James rolled his eyes. “Hurry up.”

She slid it onto the table in front of him, kissed his cheek, then headed back to the kitchen proper. They had ninety minutes before the dining room opened for their Tuesday night dinners, the most expensive. He bent to carving, turning the round into the cuts he needed for that night. Two hundred dollars of meat was about to be turned into a meal for twenty people at one thousand a head. His costing had each plate at fifteen dollars a head, sixteen if he made one miscut.

His chef de parties were busy working and he could hear laughter. “Hey, if you're laughing, you're not working hard enough!”

“Go fuck yourself,” Davina—the sous chef—called back to him. She only had the title of sous chef because she was willing to fuck him anywhere. That and they were in love and she had the skills. And she was his wife and technically owned half of his shares as well as her own.

“I'll be fucking you tonight, bitch.”

Laughter spilled out of the kitchen again at her incensed expression.

When the cuts of meat were done, James brought the meat back to Zak to start working on as James began preparing the bones for the next days' sauces.

Tony and Greg, brothers born in the Mediterranean and orphans, were James' garde manger and rotisseur.

Davina was saucier/poissonier and she took the bones from James, then got to work making the stock. He looked over Zak's shoulder to see him finishing the tarts, ices, and the desserts for that night.

He stole one of the thumbnail sized tarts and popped it in his mouth. “My god, that's like heaven.”

“Of course they are. Where's Pierre?”

“The front, of course.”

“Tell him to get his ass in here. I need to tell him the menu.”

James slapped the back of his head. “I'm the fucking exec here.”

“Fine you do it.”

“Hell no, I hate Pierre.” James went off to get the man, then walked back into the kitchen and studied his crew. He smiled. They worked like well programmed androids with just enough soul to create gastronomic delights.

“Are you just going to watch us?” Tony asked as he finished preparing the vegetables for the night.

“Yes. I've done my part. My name on the window and my name on the paychecks. And if you want yours, you'll shut your fucking gob, you right bloody cunt.”

Greg chuckled as he finalized the cuts of meat.

James walked off to take the elevator down to the wine cellar. He slid a card out of his wallet and put it into the panel. The elevator became an express down from the fiftieth floor to the third subbasement.

Inside the high tech basement surrounded by glass walls and custom designed wine chillers, he filled the night's cart. Back on the elevator, he let it go up without the express card in the panel. It stopped at the eighth floor and the president of the hotel came aboard.

“Good afternoon, chef James.”

“Mister Acacia. How's your daughter?”

“Still wanting to date you.” James' smirk grew as the man shook his head. “How's the preparation going?”

James popped his neck. “We'll be ready. I'm already counting my profits. What do you think? An Aston Martin or a Ferrari?” James had sold his last car—a classic and perfectly restored Ferrari—to buy back the last investor in the restaurant. It had made him ninety percent owner with his crew owning two point five percent each. Instead of the hotel owning the restaurant in whole or part, James had a five year mortgage.

“Ferraris are nice, but Aston Martins are wonderful. What am I getting for dinner tonight?”

“Beef medallion in pastry with asparagus spears and a wine to die of the orgasm it causes for.”

“And how much is this going to cost the hotel?”

James just grinned and pushed the cart off the elevator.

As the doors shut, Acacia smirked.

James watched the wait staff prepare the wines and the tables, then walked into the kitchen and into his office. He unbuttoned his white jacket, then pulled on a black chef's jacket with white lining and cuffs, an inversion of what he and his people normally wore.

“Shit, where's my sword?” he muttered and began tearing apart the office. He found it under a stack of clean jackets. His office was his and Davina's changing room. He tossed the cleans on the circular stairwell to the floor above and carried the katana out to the dining room.

“What the fuck? What is that shite doing in here?” He used the sword to point at a box that said Cristal.

Pierre opened the box, revealing it was holding bottles of water. “The box was just used to transport.”

“I don't even want the box in my restaurant. I hate that piss.”

Two sovereign bottles of champagne from Drappier sat on a customized stand at the exact height and angle needed for a showy opening. James hung the sword from one of the bottles and went back into the kitchen as Pierre and the waitresses set out the flutes for the night. Each one had the restaurant's name—Threeblade—and the logo, a Fleur-De-Lys with three downward aiming sabers coming up behind the petals of the 'flower,' engraved on the base.

As the guests arrived, James watched from behind the one way mirror in his office. Seven of the women in the group had been his and his wife's lovers at one time or another. Of those seven, all had been married at the time, though one was now divorced and another widowed. He wondered if Davina might be up for a threesome that night and who the third would be if so.

Pushing the thought out of his mind, he walked out of his office and into the kitchen to help finish preparing the plates for the first course of eleven.

When it was time for the champagne, James walked into the room, gave a brief bow and grasped the katana. He thumbed it up, then using his long training in Iaido, James drew and hit the champagne bottles perfectly, sabering off the lip of the bottles as well as the cork without cracking the glass. The patrons clapped appreciatively as he replaced his blade and bowed again. “Please, enjoy,” he told them and left the room.

In the kitchen, he dropped the sword onto the chef's table, then fell into a chair. Davina smiled and brought over a plate with a slice of prosciutto wrapped around some Brie and melon. “Here, try this.”

He ate it when she held it up for him. As Davina drew away the toothpick, she asked, “What do you think?”

“The vinaigrette overpowered it.”

She leaned forward and kissed him. “How much longer?”

“Two hours, forty seven minutes, thirteen seconds,” he murmured, then slid his hand up her torso and began undoing the clasps on her jacket.

She stopped him and murmured, “Tonight, you pervert.”

They continued kissing until Zak said, “Hey, Davina, you're up.”

She pulled away and dipped her hands in a bucket of bleach water, then washed them under hot water with fragrance free soap. Buttoning up her jacket, she walked back to her station.

“You gonna do anything, James?” Greg asked this time. James picked up a strawberry and lodged it right in the man's open jacket. “Yes, chef.” The strawberry was an insult, the equivalent of being a virgin.

James turned around and looked at the screens showing what was happening in the dining room from the hidden cameras.

“Hey, check it out. Mrs. Williams is stroking the mayor's crotch.” He couldn't actively see it, but he could tell from how her arm was moving.

His free chefs came over to watch.

“Hah. Her husband doesn't even notice.”

“Neither does his wife,” Tony agreed with his brother.

Waitresses continued streaming in and out. James looked them over as they moved about. They were all natural redheads wearing matching complimentary makeup over black blouses and white skirts. They were all former showgirls he had scouted. Only his maître d'hôtel, bartender, and his busboys were male, all with black hair and light skin. He wasn't racist. He just wanted them to be as dismissable as possible compared to the women who served the meals, the tertiary reason for people to come in.

Finally the night had ended and they quickly cleaned the kitchen, then put away their knives in their cases.

James stripped his jacket off and asked, “Gambling?”

“Yeah.” “Totally.” “Right behind you.” “I'm up for anything.”

They walked into his office and took the spiral staircase. On the floor above, they were in James' seven bedroom suite he owned as well. Each of his crew had a room. In the master bedroom, he watched Davina unbutton her jacket and reveal a sweaty sports bra.

“How do you make that look so sexy?”

“Pervert. I'm dirty as hell.”

“Yes. You are. Dirty hot.”

Davina laughed and headed into their bathroom.

When she came out twenty minutes later, she was wearing a towel around her hair and nothing else. He watched appreciatively as she pulled out her favorite clubbing outfit; a semi-sheer white off-the-shoulder spandex dress and a lacy sheer thong teddy that she had bought when they met in London and still fit in flawlessly. She had been there on a summer abroad thing through her high school. James had been nineteen and there on the weekend from his day job as a fully tenured—at seventeen—professor at Oxford. They had immediately taken a liking for each other and ended up spending most of two days together before she left to return to Vegas, though she hadn't said she was under sixteen until the day she left.

James had taken a few years, then quit his job, rolled all of his money into an account his parents couldn't touch, and moved to Vegas to join the profession he had always wanted to do. Culinary. His parents had cut him off but he had seventeen million, three investors behind him, and his classic Ferrari and Italian beach house. The last two had been sold as he spent over a year training with Luciano Pellegrini and then embarked on his own, taking two of the chefs with him. Davina quit her job at the Bellagio and joined him as he opened a ten million dollar restaurant, his home making up half of the capital needed.

In the casino, the group played poker at their private table, drinking water and lemon. They soon ended up back in the apartment, heading to their rooms until James' phone rang. “What? I'm about to shag my wife like she's never been shagged bef—oh, hi Valeria. I would love to let you talk to her, but--”

“Give me that, you dirty motherfucker,” she told him as she grabbed the phone. “Hi, mommy.”

James laughed then began kissing her shoulder as he tugged her dress down her body. She tried to pull away, but he didn't let her. Stripped down to her panties and stockings, she tried to pull away again as her husband slid his fingers into her thong.

“Stop it,” she whispered angrily, then gasped. “Oh my god, mom, I have to go, James is being an asshole.”

“Sure he is, sweetie,” Valeria said as she laughed and hung up.

“How is she, babe?” Darryl asked.

“Having sex.”

Darryl rolled over and glared at his wife. “What did I tell you about reminding me that wonderful little bastard is touching my precious little girl?”

Darryl rolled over and kissed his wife as she giggled.

Davina whimpered passionately as James buried his face between her thighs. She wrapped her fingers in his hair and held him in place tightly, panting as he quickly brought her to her first orgasm of the morning.

“Close your fucking door,” Zak and Tony yelled as they played with the Wii and their dates for the night, two of their former waitresses who had gone back to working as showgirls.

Davina blinked tiredly as she looked out the window. “James?”

“In the game room,” she heard.

Wrapping the silk sheet around herself, she walked to the game room and found her husband watching a porno. “Hey!”

“Look, it's your high school hate-on.”

Davina's eyes went wide and she dropped onto the bean bag next to him. “Oh my god, that cheerleader bitch.”

“You were a cheerleader, as well.”

“Hotter. And not a football player sucking off bitch.”

“Yes. You only suck off award winning chefs.”

She watched as the chubby brunette deep throated the penis. “Wait, that doesn't look like a human penis,” Davina stated.

“Babe, notice the FUR?”

“Oh my god,” she breathed as the camera zoomed back. “It's a dog cock. Where did you find this?”

“The Internet, of course.”

“I want to go on a date,” she told him after he turned it off and switched to the news.

“We don't have time,” he reminded her. Seven days a night in an award winning restaurant left no time for dating.

“I want a divorce, then.”

“You lying bitch.”

“Okay, I'm lying. I do want us to have some time alone, though, baby.”

“All right, next Monday night, we'll close, and then you and me, see if the president will lend us the plane to go somewhere like... Italy.”

James lifted his phone and dialed. “Mister Acacia? I'm closing the restaurant next Monday for a massive cleaning. Is there any way we could borrow the jet to go to Italy? Huh. That would work. First class on the way back? Awesome.” He hung up and said, “We're going to Hawaii and he's arranging first class on the way back. They're picking up a whale that night.”

Davina wrapped her arms around her husband's neck as she straddled him. “Yay,” she whispered, then kissed him deeply.

“Wait, you two are going to Hawaii and we have to stay and clean?” Zak asked.

“No, you idiot. You three are coming as well. I hired two prep chefs from my old restaurant to clean. If you come anywhere near us for the thirty hours we're there, though, I will end your existence. You have to pay your way back, though, I think.”

Zak, Tony and Greg went to check their balances as James and Davina finished packing their bags.

Their front door opened when they walked into the sitting room. James blinked in surprise. The president of the hotel operations held up a press briefing.

“Look at this, James.”

“If its some critic whining that I threw him out, sod off.” He only allowed critics in on Wednesdays and Thursdays, the nights that their custom was normally light, though the occasional unknown was able to get in as guests of others or using unknown fake names.

Acacia smiled at that. “No. Look.”

James took the paper and read. “Oh, shit.” He smiled and Davina peeked at it, then squealed.

Zak walked in, eating a sandwich. “What's up?”

“Five diamonds while the hotel only has four still.”

“Don't remind me,” Acacia muttered. His paycheck was taking a hit for that.

“Okay, I expect fabulously expensive bottles of wine in the plane for us. Ciao.”

Acacia smiled. “I'll think about that. The owners are going to be here on Tuesday and want to talk to you.”

“I'll see them when we get back, then.”

When he left, the five ended up jumping around like fools. Their first year open, still in debt, but they had just received five diamonds. To some of them it wasn't as prestigious as three Michelin stars, but it was still the top of the AAA's listing.

“So, does this mean we can get the loan for the fleet vehicles?” Tony asked. They all were using taxis or an aging van to get around and pick up things. James had promised to get a loan so they could all have a nice vehicle.

“Next year,” James said. “C'mon, let's go. The limo's waiting.”

Downstairs, they got into the white limo and relaxed into the seats.

“How come our people aren't cleaning?” While they only did five people for the special nights, the kitchen normally had at least sixteen people in it, not including his dish washing crew.

“Gave them all a day off. Davina, you did call them all, right?”

“Yes. I'm not your secretary.”

“Huhh, I should hire a secretary. Someone with massive tits and obscenely short skirts.”

Davina straddled her husband and began to fake choke him. “You hire some stupid bimbo and I cut you. If you're going to hire, hire someone who can do all the things we need done that we don't have time to do. Answer private phone, take care of money matters, and so on.”

“I'll take a look around, maybe ask Acacia.”

“Those are cute panties,” Greg told Davina.

She lifted her skirt so they could see them better. “Aren't they? The monkeys are just adorable.”

James tugged her skirt down. “Mine, you cunts.”

When they arrived at the airport and boarded the plane, they found five bottles of 1990 Château d'Yquem and five tickets for first class.

“Damn, he knows my taste.” Once James had tasted 1990's wine, he had spent most of his free money picking up bottles for himself. The hotel and James used the same Wine Buyer.

Davina stretched luxuriously, then ran her fingers down along her nude body, making sure her oil was well spread. “James, come make love to me,” she pleaded/teased.

“Almost done,” he called back and she lifted her head to look.

Davina gasped when she saw the building he was making. James stepped away and picked up his camera case, then began taking pictures of his sand representation of The Warden and College of the Souls of all Faithful People deceased in the University of Oxford.

“How did you do that?” she asked as he approached.

“A bucket I found, lots of water, and driftwood. Mmm, you look soooo good.”

She looked down at the tenting shorts he wore. “Yes, I can see you think so.”

Davina took off running and laughing as James pulled his shorts off.

Zak yawned tiredly, then kissed the driver of the Z8 he sat in. “Bye, beautiful.”

“Call me,” she implored him as he grabbed his bag and headed towards the airport.

Tony and Greg were watching and Zak asked, “Where're the newlyweds?” Davina and James had married only a few weeks before in her parents' backyard.

“There they are,” Greg pointed. “James looks like he's pretty tired.”

Davina waved cheerfully as James carried her two bags and his own.

In the airport, they went through the interminable security procedures, then finally got through and boarded the plane.

As they winged home, the group discussed a new recipe idea Zak had had as he shagged the blonde he had met at the beach.

Back in Nevada, The Montanas and Zak went to get some sleep before they opened for dinner while Davina and James went to the restaurant and looked it over. “Nothing missing?”

James nodded. While he trusted them, his old mentor had no problem with having his people play pranks on James by taking certain items and had done so before.

He unlocked the office, then pulled out their knives. He and Davina had matching GLOBAL Bunmei Japanese Style cutlery while Zak used GLOBAL G series and the Montana brothers preferred Brieto blades. He set the five knife rolls on his station, then stretched.

“Davina?”

“Yes, honey?” she asked as she looked in the walk-in.

“I love you.”

“You, too.”

He smiled and went back into his office, then logged into gmail. The two had private email accounts but also shared one and he logged into that and saw an email from her parents. “Your mom is whinging for us to get you in the family way again.”

“It's whining, you limey fuck.”

“I'm Scottish-German-Italian-English, you mutt.” Fifty, twenty-five, twelve point five, and twelve point five percent respectively.

Davina came into his office a few moments later and straddled him on the couch. “Did you just call me a dog?”

“No, I said mutt. As in, the melting pot of America.” She was Swedish-Scottish-Danish-English-Irish-Italian-Austrian and there was rumor of a smidgen of African blood, though her skin was so pale and her features so Swedish, no one really believed it.

“Bastard.”

“That's Sir Bastard to you, my love.” When you're fifteen and a tenured professor at Oxford, being a knight is the only honor left and with his family's pull, he was knighted the day of his sixteenth birthday. He, like all male members of his family that had distinguished themselves stretching back almost five hundred years were members of the Order of the Thistle.

She smiled at him and they kissed.

They broke apart and she went back to checking the walk-in as James began preparing an almost frugal lunch for the owners, Acacia, his wife, and himself.

When they arrived at one, Davina and James set out the tureen of pumpkin soup and avocado salsa, then James went back and brought out two decanters of a gold wine.

“What is this?”

“It's from my uncle's vineyard,” James said. “A pumpkin wine. I know, I know, sounds weird but it's very sweet and reminiscent of a white wine I had one summer in the Baltic.”

Davina sat as James poured their wine, then the majority owner saluted them. “Congratulations on paying us off and being full owner of here and your apartment.”

Acacia took a sip, then smiled. “This is quite good.”

James nodded in thanks, then asked, “What did you all want to see us for?”

“Your restaurant, since it opened, has brought us an eight percent increase in business. We want to give you a gift. Any vehicle you want. That's street legal in the states.”

Davina cheered and James smiled. “That's great but... damn. I want a Ferrari 612 Scaglietti but I don't feel right about getting a new car when my crew is still using the shite van we own and taxis.”

“Fine. We'll get you a fleet. Ask your people what they like.”

“But do try to keep the total under... two million,” one of the owners said.

They all nodded and Acacia said, “You know, giving them all vehicles could be a good promo deal. We run a rigged game where they can win the cars or lose the restaurant, but they're rigged to win. It'd be good for publicity.”

Davina cheered.

“We don't need it to be rigged. We all know how to count cards. Just give us ten thousand in chips, then we'll win it at blackjack.”

Acacia blinked. “You... count cards?”

“Well, not here. I live here. And work here. I count cards at the Bellagio. I hate the prick who owns the place. Got to pay off my debts somehow.”

The owners laughed as Davina took out a coin. “Flip for dessert.”

“Heads,” James said. His wife flipped the coin and let it hit the table. When Heads showed, she sighed and went to get the desserts, Spiced Rum & Pumpkin Ice Cream.

James shook the hands of the owners when they were finished. Acacia said, “We'll set up the game and let you know.”

James nodded. When they were gone, Davina hugged her husband. “I'm getting a Lotus Europa S! I'm getting a Lotus Europa S! I'm getting a Lotus Europa S!” she sang, then ran off to tell the others what was happening.

When James came up to the apartment, Davina handed him a list of cars. She had written down the car he had been most drooling over, then her car and their partner's favorites. Greg had listed a Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren and his brother had listed a Ascari KZ1. Zak wanted a Ford GT.

“What the fuck?” James said. “A Ford GT? Dude, ask for something amazing, not something you can buy out of pocket in a year.” The car was a supercar, but it would be easy enough to get the car used with less than a thousand miles on it any time since idiots would buy it without the ability to really afford it.

“Fine. Then a Mitsuoka Orochi Kabuto.”

James blinked. He walked to the game room went on Wikipedia. When he came back out, James said, “Alright, but it looks like ass.”

The rest all laughed as Davina asked, “You didn't know what a vehicle was?”

“Excuse me. I've never been into the Japanese Domestic Market.”

“Colors?” James wrote them down as they said so, then he faxed them to Acacia and came back. “Alright, you wankers, the commis are arriving. Davina, you're in charge right now while I go and take a shower. I'll be down in... twenty at the most.”

Valeria nodded at the maître d'hôtel, then flitted towards the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. “Hi, everyone. Where're they at?”

“Davina's taking a nap in the office and James is doing an interview down in Zala's place. 'Sup, Mrs. S?” Greg asked.

“I was bored, wanted to see my daughter. How long has she been asleep?”

“Forty minutes or so. James made her stay up for the fish delivery this morning since she burnt our dinner.”

Valeria raised an eyebrow. “She burnt dinner?”

“Oh my god, it was horrible,” Zak told her. “We came up into the apartment after work and she was fast asleep on the couch with the pan fried Ahi we set aside for ourselves just smoking like a chimney.”

Valeria chuckled, then went to wake her daughter.

“Hmm, hi, mom,” she murmured. “What's up? Is daddy here?”

“He's working. I came by to say hi. You burnt dinner?”

She sighed. “I just fell asleep. Leave it alone.”

Valeria laughed and hugged her daughter. “Who's James interviewing with?”

“A new assistant for the kitchen. Well, for the office and house, as well, to take care of the things we have no time to do.”

“Oh, so should I talk to this woman about making James a child?”

Davina narrowed her eyes at her mother. “I would end you, mother.”

Valeria giggled. “Do you have time or do you need to work?”

Davina looked at the clock on the wall. “Um, I need to work but you can hang in the chef's table area if you want. Did you come through the restaurant?”

“Yes.”

“Mom, you know what James said. Come through the apartment and down the stairs.”

“You're not open yet.”

“Doesn't matter,” she told her mother.

Davina went to work in the kitchen as her mother sat on a chair and watched them work, occasionally asking questions and teasing the boys.

When James came out of the office, he looked quite unhappy. Stopping to kiss his mother-in-law on the cheek, he said, “That fuckwad couldn't run his own life, much less the third most important part of mine.”

“Third?” Valeria asked.

“Restaurant, marriage, regular life; in that order.”

“I would hit you for making me less important than the restaurant, but I figure you'll work yourself into a heart attack in five years and I'll be able to sell this off, then retire to the Bahamas with a long succession of eighteen year old pool boys.”

Everyone laughed as James picked up his knife and sharpening rod and walked menacingly towards his wife.

As the night went on, Davina occasionally dropped into the seat across from her mother to chat in between dishes.

Valeria was surprised to see how hard James rode the Asian man then whispered to her daughter, “How come he's so mean to him?”

“Dong,” she giggled at the name, then continued, “is James' choice to run his prospective London restaurant. He's busting on him to make him better. Dong was his given name before he changed it to Donald. No one's ever called him that, though.”

Davina went back to work, jumping and squealing when her husband goosed her as she went by.

Valeria spent the whole evening watching, surprised at how filthy her daughter's language got as she teased and bantered with the other chefs, but spent most of the time laughing, even at the two jokes that were about her.

Valeria left at eleven with two dinners wrapped in foil. With her gone, James looked out the window, then grabbed his wife's jacket and pulled her into the office. He began yelling as the door closed, then instantly stopped as it shut.

“Hey.”

Before she could reply, he was tugging her trousers and bikini underwear down and pushing her up against the wall, face forward. He was in her, kissing her neck as she moaned his name.

When they finished, Davina used a dirty jacket to wipe the excess fluids off and sighed. “What was that for?” They tried not to have sex during work.

“You don't want to know.”

“No, tell me.”

“Your mom's nipples and her tiny little panties were so visible all the time she was here, though instead of her face, I kept seeing yours.”

“Ugh, that's gross. Though, I guess, since she's my mom and I look basically like her, it's understandable.”

He caught her face and brought it close to his. “Your mom may have been the body I kept seeing all night, but the only woman I need is you. In twenty years, you're going to be even hotter than your amazingly beautiful mother could ever hope to be.”

She poked him in the chest. “You're lucky I love the hell out of you, you sodding wanker.”

“Ah, you're learning how to curse.” He kissed her again, then murmured, “Suck me off?”

She dropped onto the couch and tugged him forward by his penis.

“So, what was he screaming about?” Zak asked as Davina worked next to him.

“I don't want to talk about it,” she told him.

Zak rolled his eyes. “You two were fucking. Christ! You two need to fucking get some cold showers on more often.”

“We were not,” she protested then smiled. “We made loooove.”

He hip-checked her, then walked off, smirking.

As Davina crawled into bed, she snuggled up to James and asked, “So, no one in your family has tried to contact you at all?”

“My sister and cousin emailed me yesterday. My brother's just happy he's the new heir. Fucking prick.” His family was one of the few hereditary peers that still owned their own property and weren't giving tours to stay alive.

“Your sister is so hot,” she said to him as she softly ran her fingers along his penis.

“Please,” he asked. “She's my sister.”

“And yet, you were fantasizing about my mother.”

“Please, the only different between you and your mum is ten pounds, a cup size, and red hair. In photos or from a distance, you cannot tell the difference when your hair is colored and in black and white, you're twins. Except for her tiny crows feet.”

“Wanna do something crazy?” she asked.

“That depends,” he replied. “If it involves your friend Cameron, I'm all for it.”

She giggled. Cameron had walked in on James and Davina in the hotel room the two girls had shared on their trip to England and after her shock at Davina's rejoinder to either join or go, she had left, then came back a moment later and asked if they were both serious about her joining. James had had both of the girls that night and many other times once he moved to Vegas.

“Actually, I was thinking, on our year anniversary, we should totally get married again. Then at five years, ten years, twenty, fifty and so on.”

“Uh, kinda creepy, but okay.”

“It's not creepy, it's beautiful,” she complained.

Davina found a printout on the stairwell downstairs and pulled it off. James had written that from that day forward, they would no longer be open on Mondays and only two special Tuesdays a month on the first and last of the month.

She went and found him sitting in the game room, clutching a bottle of 1998 Château d'Yquem, and watching Boondock Saints.

“What's with the closing?”

“They can all fuck off, I want some time to myself and with my wife alone. I kicked Zak, Tony, and Greg out, as well.” Even though they were only open seven hours a day, James was still in the restaurant closer to twenty hours a day. There had been many times Davina had come down and found him asleep in the office. She would smile then join him on the deep couch.

She smiled happily and settled down in his lap, taking the bottle from him and taking a large sip.

“Of course, I just wanted some time alone, today.”

“Fuck you,” she told him and heeled him.

She took another swallow, then wiggled her bottom. “Did you take this from our wine cellar?”

“Yes, but out of my private cellar.” In the area for the restaurant, there was a locked off set of wine shelves full of bottles that he had brought over from England. His collection had encompassed wines from around the world and bottles that, while they were now vinegar, fools would spend thousands of dollars for them. Like his grandfather had and he did as well. It was his one true vice that he would never give up. He was an oenophile through and through.

“When do I get the passcode for that area?”

“The day I decide that I'm no longer an oenophile, my lovely wench.”

The two kissed and she let the wine in her mouth dribble into his. When he pulled away, James murmured, “Hmm, I think you improved on the flavor.”

“You say that now. Wait until I use this in a sauce. Again.”

“Bitch, I will divorce you the second you do that again.”

“C'mon, it made it taste awesome.”

“A cheap Riesling would have done the same.”

The two ended up on the floor, the wine and movie forgotten as James was balls deep in his wife.

Zak studied the tableau in front of him and shook his head, sighing. The sitting room, game room, his bedroom, and the bathroom were all trashed. He lifted the phone and dialed. “Room service? Yeah, they destroyed the apartment. We need it cleaned as soon as possible.” Though James owned the apartment, he still had access to all the services in the hotel for it, though their use of room service for food was so rare, Zak could count its use on one hand. They almost abused it when it came to having drinks delivered.

When the maids arrived, Zak had them do the game room first then dropped into the orange bean bag chair and picked up the controller for the X-Box 360.

Looking at the time, he smiled and dialed room service. “I need a bottle of Pyrat XO rum, charged to Threeblade's, semi-colon Leary. Yes. All right, thank you.”

When it arrived the maid brought the bottle to him and he pulled the cork out with his teeth, then took a sip as he watched the intro of Sonic The Hedgehog.

“Man, Lacey Chabert has a sexy voice,” he murmured as he began playing.

“Hey,” James said. “Thanks for having them come in. Davina and I ended up going over to her parents for barbecue. Wherein, I ended up being the barbecuer.”

Tony walked in and said, “Dude, there's a condom on the latest Epicurious.”

“Don't look at me,” James said. “We don't use jimmy hats anymore.” Davina had introduced the name to him and it had become his favorite phrase.

“Uh, that's mine,” Zak said. “But it had weed in it.”

“Dude, you have weed and didn't share?” James asked.

“Dude, you have thousand dollar bottles of wine and don't share.”

“Fine, I'll hook you up with a bottle of champagne so divine, you'll orgasm on the first drink if you hook me up with two ounces.”

“Two ounces of hydro grown sensimilla is almost four hundred fifty bucks,” Zak told him.

“Ah, then get me four. This champagne is fourteen hundred a bottle if you're lucky. I got it for eleven because I bought six cases.”

Zak hesitated, then went to send a page as Davina walked into the room, holding three pounds of short ribs. She handed them to Tony. “Here,for your guys' dinner. Hey, honey.”

James kissed his wife, then dropped down onto the couch and flicked through the movies on their DVR.

Davina yawned tiredly, then rolled over. “James, baby, you awake?”

“I am. But if you don't let me sleep, I'll be a widower.” They had spent over sixteen hours tearing the kitchen down to clean it thoroughly.

“Your threats of murder only excite me,” she told him, then asked, “where are my purple panties?” James had pulled them off of her that morning and she had been unable to find them.

“Office. Shut up and let me sleep.”

She kicked him in the leg, then wrapped her arm over him. He shifted his arm and caught hers under his, then murmured, “I sleep now. You sleep now. If we don't, I'm drugging you from now on.”

“Want sex?” she murmured.

He flipped over and started to kiss her. She smiled and said, “No.”

He stopped himself from slapping her and rolled back over, muttering, “Bitch.”

She giggled then hugged him tightly as she nodded off.

Davina walked in to the apartment with three full shopping bags, then dropped on to the couch as her mother followed her in.

“Thanks for going with me, honey,” her mother said, looking through her purse for her phone.

“Thank you, mom. I couldn't afford this dress for another month and the thing is day after tomorrow.”

Valeria pulled out the slinky, sequin-trimmed, emerald gown and smiled. “James is going to molest you so much when he sees this.”

“He molests me all the time as it is.”

Valeria giggled. “I know.” Davina's parents had walked in on James and Davina all too many times when James moved to Nevada. “I can't believe you're going to wear those heels, though.”

Davina took out the spiked sandals and said, “Why? What's wrong with them? James likes the style and Zak thinks they're hot.” He had ended up shopping with them, though had gone off with a girl he had met in the lingerie shop as the two went off to look for a dress.

“They're like six inches. I can barely walk in four,” her mother said. “What else did you get at the lingerie shop?”

Davina blushed as her mother pulled out the small bag and looked inside. She grinned evilly at her daughter and held up the black micro fishnet suspender pantyhose and a black and gold crotchless, cupless bra and panty set. “Mooom,” Davina complained and grabbed at the items.

“You don't want to see what I got for your dad, then?”

Morbid curiosity won out and she said yes. Her mother pulled out a red PVC strap teddy with O-rings. “Your dad is going to be a very happy person on his birthday.”

“Mom, the walls are thin. He's a very happy person three to five times a week. Even when you were ragging,” Davina complained.

“I like to keep him happy. He has a dangerous job.” Her father was SWAT but had been utterly stunned to find himself outshot by his son-in-law, then found out James' favored uncle was SAS and lived on the family estate, teaching his favorite nephew to shoot and fight when he wasn't on a mission. She didn't mention she just liked sucking her husband's penis. He ate lots of fruit.

Valeria kissed her daughter's forehead, then headed out as Davina picked up the phone. “My mom's heading down, bring around her car.”

Davina put her things away, then called her husband's cell. “Baby, where are you? Oh.” She hung up and took the stairs down to the restaurant.

Her husband was sitting at his desk, reading Larousse Gastronomique in the original French, a pad of paper in front of him and a pencil in his hand. He was writing ingredients and making sketches of plates, designing a new entree. His second stage was the actual cooking, but he preferred to think and list a good amount of ideas before deviating from them.

“Need help?” she asked as she sat on his lap.

James kissed her neck and nibbled her ear, then murmured, “There's a wench on my lap you could get rid of.”

She sighed, then got off his lap and sat on the desk. “You know, you could pay more attention to me on Mondays.” He had taken Mondays off to spend more time with her but in the last five Mondays, he had spent most of his time innovating.

“Trying to afford what you deserve,” he told her.

She ran her fingers across her thigh, shifting her skirt, reminding him she wasn't wearing underwear, something she had taken to doing without on Mondays.

When he brightened she thought she was about to end up on her back until he scribbled in his private shorthand, then headed into the kitchen.

Sighing again, she followed.

He barked orders and for a moment, her eyes flashed in anger, but she kicked off her heels and went to do what he ordered, stopping to slide her feet into her cooking shoes, wishing she had been wearing socks. The fragrance from the shoes was evident, even though she was five feet above them and the industrial fans were on.

Davina leaned on his work space, watching him study the fist sized peacotums that had been delivered the day before. “Gimme one of those,” she ordered and bit into it.

James was entranced as the juice ran down her chin, staining it a sweet yellow. She used her fingers to wipe it clean, then licked each finger clean, intentionally teasing her husband.

After a few moments, he shook it off and went back to work.

Forty minutes later, the two were cutting off a slice of the Pompano dolphinfish, a dollop of peacotum salsa on the top over a bed of radicchio di Castelfranco to taste it.

“Well?” he asked.

“You cannot list this under the name dolphinfish.”

He smiled. “Damnit, that was the total idea.”

“Okay, I know we both had dolphin on our honeymoon,” she reminded him, “but no one in Vegas is going to order it if they think it's real dolphin. Just call it by the name everyone thinks of it as, Mahi-mahi.” They had been in Iceland for four days as a honeymoon, more studying food dishes of a French chef who had semi-retired there than spending time alone together. Dolphins weren't legally hunted but they weren't wasted when they were caught in fishing nets.

He sighed, then kissed her, licking the excess juices she had missed before. She giggled and pushed him away. “Don't lick me. At least, not there.”

“Take that up to the others and see what they think.”

She took the plate up to have the others taste while James cleaned up the mess he had made.

Zak yawned then looked up. “Um, if you've come to seduce me, as much as I'd like to, I'm not hurting my best friend,” he yawned as he told Davina.

“Shut your gob and try this.” She held out a forkful for him.

He nodded. “Nice. What is it? The peacotum and what?” He had recognized the flavor of the fruit, but didn't eat much fish except when working.

“Pompano dolphinfish.”

“Is it going on the menu?”

“Yes.”

“Good, go away or service me.”

She kicked him and walked out of the room.

She found Tony sitting in the game room, reading a vegetarian magazine. He looked up and smiled. “Hey. 'Sup? Bringing me lunch now? James may get the wrong idea.”

She kicked him, then said, “Shut it and try a bite. Where's Greg?”

“Fucked off on a date with his new girl.”

He bit off from the fork she held out and nodded. “Nice. Dolphinfish and... that hybrid fruit thing... peacockum?”

“Peacotum,” she corrected.

“Going on the menu?”

“Yes.”

“What's it replacing?” he asked.

“No clue.”

She went back down and found James standing in the dining room, looking out the window at the strip. The restaurant was considered to have one of the finest views on the strip.

Davina finished the fish as she asked, “Something wrong, baby?”

“No. Just watching people for a moment. They like it?”

“Yes. Let's go out for dinner.”

“All right. Rabbit off and shower and I'll be up in a moment.”

She normally would have protested the order but she could smell fish, feet, and a fruit punchish smell on her self. Davina kissed his chin, then headed for their apartment as James brought his phone back up to his ear. “She's gone. Next Monday is fine. Love to you, too.”

James slid his phone in his pocket, then pulled it out and erased his last incoming calls.

Upstairs, he hopped into the shower with his wife and nibbled her ear, then got out as she continued washing her hair. When she got out, she found her husband wearing his favorite charcoal gray suit and her favorite tie and shirt, a purple silk matching set with black pinstripes on the tie.

They were on the first floor, about to ask the valet to flag a taxi when the head valet walked up. “Chef James?”

“Yeah, Mike?”

He held out a pair of keys. “President Acacia is loaning you one of the hotel's vehicles until the show, he said. What show?” he asked, curiosity overtaking his normal reserved self.

James shrugged. “Thanks. Which one?”

“The pearl Navigator over there.” They kept two company vehicles parked out front for quick access.

James accepted the keys, then handed them over to his wife and checked to see if his license was in his wallet.

He opened the passenger door for his wife, then copped a feel of her honey-toned thigh.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Valentino's. Not really in the mood for Italian, but I know you love it.”

She danced in her seat as he navigated through the traffic of the strip.

When they arrived, James smiled at the hostess.

“James,” she said in happy surprise. “How are you?”

“Got a table for us?”

“Ooh, you mind the chef's table? We've fully booked.”

“I'd prefer it,” Davina said. She wasn't legal for alcohol as of yet so being away from the public let her drink easier. With her husband, she could legally but many restaurants and bars just said no.

When they arrived in the kitchen, Luciano hugged his former student and kissed both his cheeks, then kissed Davina on the lips briefly. James looked at his watch and the kitchen crew nearby laughed.

“You got some new toys,” James said as he looked around.

“Sì, sì. What do you two want?”

“Surprise me,” Davina said as James nodded.

The two joked and laughed with the chefs as they were served until dessert came. After they finished eating, the two ended up staying to closing as Davina drank more than she should while James moderated. His two glasses of wine were drowned by the spiced coffee he chain-drank.

They headed home a little after two and James had to help his wife to bed.

She slurred an invitation to sex and he hesitated. Drunken sex was fun when he was drunk as well but a drunk wife and him sober made it unexciting. Before he could answer, she had passed out.

James laughed, then undressed her down to her knickers and undressed himself.

James awoke to two children jumping on his bed. When they saw he was awake, the twin girls dropped down and hugged him tightly. “Uncle James!”

“That's Sir Uncle James.”

They both giggled when he sat up and hugged him again as he saw his sister sitting on the ottoman they kept in the bedroom and Davina used to sit on as she put her makeup on.

“Hey, Sissy.”

“Jamie, dear,” she said, then stood and crossed the room to kiss his cheeks.

“Where's your,” he switched to Italian, “sad sack of a husband?”

She smiled. James hated the man since he had put down Oxford in their first meeting. “Still in Paris. Come along, you two. You need a maid and cook, James. At least a butler. And there's nothing in your fridge except alcohol.”

“We eat out of the restaurant. There's a good family restaurant on the second floor. I'll meet you there in ten, just give them this card.” He took one of his business cards and scrambled a note on it, saying the woman was his sister and he would be joining her with the bill to be added to his room service bill.

The two girls hugged their uncle again, then followed their mother out, putting their stylish matching hats back on.

James rolled his eyes, then jumped in and out of the shower, put on a Savile Row suit, and headed down to join them, tousling his hair with the gel he had put on his hand before leaving.

When he arrived, both girls wanted to sit on his lap but their mother told them to behave.

As they dined, she told him about the family goings on he was no longer privy to, then she asked, “Where is your dahling wife?” She, Uncle Basil of the SAS, and his brother Harold were the only family members who visited/approved of his career and marriage.

“Shopping with her dad. He's buying his wife's birthday gift.”

“Ah. Your suit looks somewhat old.”

He shrugged. “I put my money into my restaurant, not into my clothing anymore. Besides, American tastes, this is just now fashionable.”

She chuckled then looked at Samantha, the older twin. “Yes, dear?” She had been bouncing in her seat.

“Uncle James, can we go on the roller coaster?”

“Can we, please?” her younger sister, Sarahjeanne pleaded.

He shook his head. “You're both still too small. But, I do know what we can do. I have tickets for us to see Cirque Du Soliel.” He had been surprised when his sister said that the girls enjoyed the clowns. When he had been their age, his parents had taken him and his sister to a circus and James had went to the Bentley to wait. He had hated clowns passionately since. He wasn't afraid, he just found them to be one step below pathetic.

The small group ended up in the limo his sister had rented and headed to the Treasure Island Hotel to see Cirque Du Soliel's midday show of Mystère.

As the girls walked slightly ahead, his sister asked, “How did you get front row tickets on such short notice?” She had only called him the week before saying she would be visiting.

“Ah, that was easy. Just comp the president of Hotel Operations for Treasure Island, then when you come out to meet him, mention you're interested in seeing the show when your sister and nieces arrive in town.”

She smiled. “That's so backhanded.”

“It's how Vegas works. Hell, I have tickets for George Carlin in a week. If I can tear away from the kitchen, I finally get to see him live. I've been wanting to since I was twelve.”

“Is that the comedian mother had a fit over you listening to?”

He nodded as an usher showed them to their seats.

James waved goodbye to his nieces, then settled back into the limo. “Back to the hotel, Simmons.”

“Yes, sir.” His nieces had wanted him to come with them to Disneyland but he had to work.

When he arrived, James headed up to his apartment and found Tony and Zak watching television on a plasma screen. “Where did that come from?”

“It was delivered to you. It's the new one with the Ambilight Spectra. So awesome,” Zak replied.

“There was no note?”

“Over there, with the invoice,” Tony said.

James flipped open the note then smiled. “It's from my brother and sister. They found my blog, then my wishlist on Amazon from there. Bastards, that was a belated Birthday gift to me.”

“Sorry, but the delivery dudes were to set it up, too.”

“Fucking wankers. Hey, there're two more items coming. You fuckers touch them, I stab you with my new Oroshi hocho.”

“You bought one?” Tony asked as he flipped over on the couch to look at James.

“Davina needs it since we'll be getting tunas in this month for the catering job.”

“Ooh, awesome,” Greg replied. “Did you get the shorter one, as well?”

“No. If she needs that, she better get on her knees,” James said.

Both laughed, then moved to the side so James could drop onto the couch. He picked up the remote and asked, “You hooked it up to the PVR?”

“Yeah. Had to go buy some IR extenders and another Firefly remote, but it works just fine.”

“Find some way to hide that bloody pyramid thing. It looks like ass in here.” The sitting room was almost minimal. A set of white leather sectional sofas shaped like a broken 'w,' two white leather arm chairs, three blue domed torch lamps, and tons of steel and glass furniture like coffee and end tables that were artwork in and of themselves. The only thing not chromed steel, glass, leather or white carpet was the andiron of nude women made of wrought-iron and the wrought-iron and glass grate with a ceramic logbox, and the mostly fiberglass speakers of the sound system.

Most of the items had come with the place and the only thing James had added were the grate, logbox, black vertical cellular blinds and now, the new plasma screen over the fireplace where a painting of Her Royal Highness The Princess Elizabeth had hung, a flawless copy of the coronation painting.

“Where is Her Highness' painting?”

“Your office up here.”

James shook his head and headed for his bedroom to take a nap. His nieces had been hellions, but it had been wonderful seeing them again. Had the restaurant been open, he would have put Zak in charge, then fucked off to spend time with the girls and his wife.

Davina opened the door and took the tuxedos from the maid. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Chef Davina.”

She closed the door, then took each suit to the proper room and flounced down to the kitchen to start working.

James threw a spear of asparagus at her, then said, “Bitch, what took you?”

She punched her husband hard in the tricep. “Call me that again, I'll Bobbit you.”

“Wow, that is an archaic reference,” Zak said as he walked by. “You've got blood all over your jacket, James. Better change it before you go out.”

He pulled it off, revealing his rock hard body and Davina heard two of the female commis gasp as he wrinkled his nose at the 'v' of blood on his back. “Bugger.”

“Da, honey, can you get me a clean jacket?”

She took it and went to the office as James went back to finishing the entrées about to go out. Once they were done, he turned back and ignored the stream of waitresses. “Where are the mains for table seven? They've got one minute.”

Zak and his assistants delivered the plates and James checked for fingerprints, then hit the pager button to summon the waitress of that table.

When the woman walked out, he turned to his wife with a bemused expression. “Are her paps... bigger?”

“Paps? Oh, her tits. Yeah, they are. I heard her sugardaddy bought her a new pair.” Davina still was lost when it came to James' slang sometimes. He often dropped into a cockney accent or rhyming slang to confound her on purpose.

“Can I date her?” Greg asked as he walked by.

“Only if I fire you first.” There was a hard and fast rule about dating. None. If a person no longer worked for James, then you could date the person. He and Davina had been engaged when they started the restaurant, but until they had married, the rule hadn't been as hard and fast. It had been 'don't be caught' until after they had married.

James heard a plate shatter and turned to look, then turned back to working on the entrées being delivered to the space in front of him.

When the night finally ended, James and his core crew watched his people file out and head to a nearby bar then they went downstairs to have a few drinks, then headed up to bed. In the apartment, Zak saw an envelope on the floor, ducked down to pick it up, then handed it off to Davina as he unbuttoned his shirt.

She and James headed to their room as she slit the letter open with her keycard to the apartment.

“It's for you. A resume and cover letter. If you hire her, she better be damn good.”

James blinked at that, then realized the resume had a gray scale image of the woman. While the image was just in gray scale and slightly pixelated, he could tell the woman was quite attractive.

In bed, they were both extremely tired but Davina smiled when James murmured in her ear.

“Gods,” she murmured. “I love your accent.”

“I don't have an accent,” he whispered as he fingered her through her knickers. “You do, my love.” He spoke with a Received Pronunciation, what was considered the prestige accent of English English, thought there was a minor hint of Scottish when he was tired or excited.

She sighed and turned over to kiss him. “I love you.”

“Same to you, turtle.”

She blinked stupidly, then realized it was Cockney slang again.

Kissing, he tugged her knickers down and fondled her, wincing at her bristly pubes. She hadn't shaved in a few days.

“Say it to me right,” she whispered as he slowly pushed into her.

“I,” he whispered, pushing into her another inch. “Love.” Two more inches. “You.” Another inch. “So, bloody,” he was over halfway in. “Much.” He was in her fully and she wrapped her legs around him.

When they were finally done, Davina fell asleep first for once and James smiled sleepily. He turned away from her and fell off to sleep himself. His wife enjoyed hugging him as she slept but he hated being so bundled up.

James looked at himself in his old dinner jacket. It had had to be let out due to his working out more often, though his trousers had been tossed aside. His wife had found out the kilt was considered part of formal dress and she had emailed his sister about what color he was to wear. Sissy had next-day aired the proper kilt and accessories and when James had seen it, he knew his wife was going to clench her legs tight for some time if he didn't wear it.

He tugged at the silvery-white tie, then situated the silvery-white cummerbund.

James heard laughing and turned. The rest of his crew, sans his wife who was doing her makeup, were laughing at him in their white dinner jackets and white bow ties.

When they finally stopped, Zak asked, “What is up with these white ties?”

“They're the correct color for the most formal events,” James told them. He sighed and opened a velvet box he normally kept in his safe. “You idiot Yanks think Black Tie most formal.”

His team watched in amusement as he affixed a green velvet sash and a few bits of jewelry.

“What is all that, then, James?” Tony asked.

James sighed. “That's Sir James to you.” He had an immigrant visa but he had no inclination to actually becoming a citizen of the United States. His title, while more politic than anything else, did mean a lot to him. The Order of the Thistle was the second most prestigious order in the Empire.

“So, are you commando under that?” Tony teased.

“Only the ladies may know.”

Davina made her entrance at that moment and James' jaw dropped. To him, and many others, she was the most beautiful women in the world but what she had done to her hair and the slinky, halter gown she wore turned a woman who was nearly flawless and an angel into a goddess.

“Oh my god,” James breathed. “You look as if Heaven broke apart and poured down into my life.”

She smiled and walked towards him, gracing him with a kiss just as there was a knock on the door.

Zak went to answer and invited the PA in.

She nodded. “Good, you're all ready. I'll be back for you in a handful of moments. On the way down, Mister and Missus Threeblade will be introduced first, then Mister Leary--”

Davina interrupted her. “You do know how to introduce him properly, correct?”

She looked at the script for the event. “Sir James, Ph.D., K.T., R.M.R., and Lady Threeblade?”

“Lady Threeblade?” Davina asked her husband and he nodded.

“If you were knighted yourself, it would be Lady Davina. Since you're my wife, it's by surname since you're using my title.”

“Then the brothers, Tony and Greg Montana?”

“Dude, how come we're always last?” Greg asked.

Zak quipped, “We're doing it by importance and skill.”

“Teacher's pet,” Tony replied.

James glared at them and they instantly went quiet.

“We're ready, miss.”

They followed her down and ended up in a staging area where they could see the two Blackjack tables, back-to-back manned by a black girl that James thought looked like a former TA of his and a young man that Davina told him looked like her older sister's first boyfriend, though less scruffy.

The announcer, Erica Schoenberg, told them how James and his crew were playing for ownership of the restaurant. Winning, they kept the restaurant and could choose between keeping the money or choosing a car. If three of them lost, they lost completely and the restaurant reverted to the hotel.

They were all going to keep the money, then say they were giving it up for charity since they truly didn't need it. The hotel was going to match the money and they would get the cars.

The Blackjack dealers were introduced and James recognized one of the names, then realized they were professional Blackjack players.

James half-listened to the bio that the announcer spoke of him, then bent over to whisper to his wife. “If that dress cost as much as I think it did, we need to talk.”

“Mom bought it.”

“All right, then.” The last things either had bought for themselves had been cookbooks and lingerie for her, both on Amazon for a major deal.

“And you said I--” her rejoinder was broken as their names were called. He took her hand and the two walked onto the floor. James recognized half a dozen food critics in the crowd and blinked.

James kissed the hand of Erica, then shook the hand of the dealer as he and Davina sat across from them.

Zak, Tony, and Greg were introduced, then settled into the chairs on the other Blackjack table.

Before it began, they spoke with Erica for a few moments.

“I don't think a man has ever kissed my hand before.” She was blushing.

“Yes, well, most Americans I've met so far are bloody heathens,” James replied.

Davina bit her lip not to laugh. “Christ James, you're such a tease. Be careful, dear, he flirts like a madman.”

“So, are you—how do you say it in England? Regimental under that kilt?”

James smiled. “Aye, lassie.”

“Is it true you two met when she was fourteen?”

“Now you make me feel like a pedophile. Yes, she was fourteen.” He started to mix in lies. “I was nineteen and teaching at Oxford. While I was in London proper, heading for my dinner reservation at Gordon Ramsay, I accidentally knocked her down.”

“He helped me pick up my stuff and gave me his card in case anything had broken. He was so sweet.”

“A day later, I was walking with some of my students, discussing an experiment we were about to begin, when I heard someone calling me by my first name. I thought it was my sister at first since she had been threatening to visit but when I turned, it was Davina and some of her friends.”

“I had broken my gift for my mom, and I had hoped he could tell me how to find another glass doll like it. I had only found the one. It was this adorable little girl playing the violin.”

“What's your degree in?” Erica asked.

“Mathematician. Mostly using math to model human movement. Governments were dead interested in what we could tell them about the movement of people. Like that show on Friday nights. NUMB3RS, is it? So, anyway, she and I ended up talking as I helped her find a new glass knick-knack for her mum, and she told me about how she wanted to be a chef. Truth was, its what I had always wanted as well. Our chef back at home was dead amazing. He used to train with Albert and Michel Roux and worked with Marco Pierre White and with Gordon Ramsay.”

“When I went back to the states, he and I kept in contact via mail and email. Then on my sixteenth birthday, he surprised the fuck out of me by showing up on my doorstep telling me he had just began as a commis for Luciano Pellegrini. And we started dating. It was a bit rocky at first. My mom loved the stuffing out of him but my dad didn't like him too much at first.”

“I was twenty one and dating his little princess. If I had been him, I'd be rotting in the desert somewhere.”

Erica laughed, then went off to talk with the others and get more firsthand info from them.

Acacia joined them on the floor and set the card shoes onto the tables, then walked off with Erica to sit at the commentator table.

A buzzer sounded and the dealer began sliding cards from the shoe.

As the games began, all five kept their bets small since they only had ten thousand in chips and they each had to make one hundred thousand.

Davina looked at her cards. A seven and a three. She tapped for a hit as James slid his hand across, signifying a stand.

The dealer dealt herself another two card and broke.

James and Davina played in silence, half-listening to the Montanas and Zak laughing and joking and occasionally groaning. They all knew the rules. Play conservatively and don't bet big until you were at double what you started with.

A waitress in an obscenely short skirt brought by club soda for them all, then flitted of as James flipped his cards. He had twenty but the dealer hit twenty one.

When James got his first Blackjack, glasses of Château d'Yquem, its golden color as flawless as Davina's tan, were set down at their tables for them. He brought his up to his nose and breathed in deeply. “Oh my god, a 1921 Château d'Yquem.” For a moment, the game was forgotten as he took a sip of the wine that had been served the night he received his doctorate at eleven. His palate had matured and his sip of it now was even more magical than it had been over a decade ago.

“James,” his wife said. “The game is more important than--”

She took a sip when he gestured her to do so and blinked. “Oh, wow,” she breathed.

He set the glass back down and refused to touch it again until his next natural 21.

He knew it was coming soon. They were playing triple-pack decks and had only come across two tens and one face card for over half the shoe being used.

Hours later, when his chips totaled almost eighty thousand, Davina counted hers. She had seventy thousand.

Zak and Tony were done. They had hit one hundred thousand earlier, while Greg was still under fifty thousand in chips.

James looked at his watch. They had been at the tables for almost seven hours now, and his bladder was singing about Niagara Falls.

He pushed forward thirty thousand in chips as his wife turned in surprise. She had been playing slightly turned away from him since his incessant finger tapping had begun annoying her.

“James,” she warned.

“Please, I'm a mathematician.”

She blinked when he received two tens and he pushed over another thirty thousand for the split.

The dealer dropped an ace and his wife gasped. She squealed when the woman dropped a second ace.

The dealer pushed over sixty thousand in chips. If he had had two aces and split those, his payoff would have been ninety thousand.

James kissed his wife's cheek and whispered, “Bet it all,” in French.

In the waiting room with Zak and Tony, he used the small bathroom off of it and sighed happily as he emptied his bladder.

“What were you at?” Zak asked. He had been reading a forwarded press release that had come to his email. “Wait, fuck that. James, read this shit.”

He handed over his laptop when James came out. “Oh fuck,” he murmured. “Fuck me. Fuck me with a chainsaw.”

“James, you're the fucking son of a Baron. Shut it,” Zak told him.

“What's with him?” Tony asked. Neither answered him.

When Davina walked in a moment later, she found her husband sitting on the floor, giggling.

She tried to find out why but he refused to say anything and instead, sat on the couch, waiting on Greg, occasionally snorting out a giggle.

Instead of Zak coming in, the PA motioned them back out. Greg had won as well.

Acacia approached. “James, you moneyed out at one hundred, twelve thousand. Davina, your total, the most at one hundred, forty two thousand. Greg, one hundred, eleven thousand fifteen. Zak and Tony, tied at one hundred, five thousand. In total, over five hundred, seventy five thousand dollars. Congratulations. But, you can give that all up for these, the cars we learned were your vehicles of choice.” He pointed at a velvet curtain which was raised, showing an LCD display, displaying the five cars they had chosen, sitting on rotating displays, showgirls standing beside them.

James hesitated. “God, so difficult of a choice, but... the restaurant is doing well. I'm going to give my share of the money to the Crossed Utensils, a scholarship fund to help disadvantaged youths go to advanced culinary schools.”

Davina pouted, then nodded and said, “I'll—I'll do the same.”

Tony, Greg, and Zak did the same after a few moments as Davina pouted at the Lotus Europa S on the screen.

A young man came rushing up to Acacia and handed him a sheet of paper. He read it and smiled. “I just received a fax from the owners. They've been watching this on the feed in Monte Carlo. We will be matching their donation. To the Crossed Utensils will go one million, one hundred fifty thousand, thirty dollars. And you all get the keep the cars.”

Davina hugged her husband as she bounced up and down, then the group were led off, stopping to speak with the reporters and people that had stayed for the whole filming.

Acacia leaned in and murmured, “If I ever see you at a Blackjack table again, Chef James, I'll throw you off the roof.”

James smirked. “I told you, I don't cheat here.”

Finally alone and away from the crowds, James murmured in his wife's ear. “You're an excellent actress.”

“As House say, everyone lies.”

“He's going to be in the restaurant next week.”

“House?” she asked, confused. “He's fictional.”

“Hugh Laurie, you twit. He's on the reservation book.”

She squealed in excitement as they were shown to the limo to take them to the vehicles.

When they arrived, James stopped them from heading to the cars straight away.

“Zak received an email today. One of his friends in France forwarded him an unreleased press release.”

“What was in it?” his wife asked, paying more attention to the pearl white vehicle waiting for her.

“Michelin will be rating Las Vegas restaurants for inclusion in the red book.”

That brought her attention away from the vehicle.

“I thought you hated Michelin guides,” his wife asked.

“I do. I despise them more than I despised using condoms.” She raised an eyebrow at that. “But, every critic in this state has said that we make French food the way French chefs wish they could. And Not to toot my own horn, but we are that good. If we don't get at least one star, Michelin will be dead to me forever and I will never trust the guide again. Hell, I'll help finance a worldwide anti-Michelin guide. I'll quit cooking and write my own guide, visiting what they think was the best and deserved three stars, then decide on my own and publish it.”

“And if we do get a star?” Tony asked. He still respected the guide.

“I'll publicly give it back, stating I don't wish to be backed by a pronouncedly racist corporation.”

“You despised using condoms, huh?” Davina asked. “Should I go get a blood test?”

“Quiet, wench. You know I was only with a few girls before you and I was tested many times before we barebacked.” The fact he had actually slept with her, and her friend, when she was fourteen—using a condom—neither had ever mentioned to anyone else. Their triple handful of threesomes before they married were theirs—and the DVDs they made of it—knowledge only as well.

“Fine. I'm driving my new car, now. You all can fuck right off,” she told them and walked to the car, accepting the keys from the showgirl.

James watched his crew hop into their cars and had an idea. He dialed his investor and spoke with the man. “Derek? How are you? How much do I have of my pre-restaurant funds?” He listened and nodded. When he had started the restaurant, he had set aside a few million and had it invested, mostly as a fall back if his multi-million dollar investiture failed. “Great. I need, say, ninety five thousand set aside and delivered to me via check. Cheers, mate.”

He hung up and headed to his own car, then drove out of the showroom, not surprised to find his full crew were in the apartment, save his wife. He dialed her cell and her father answered. “She taking her mom out for a test drive?” he asked and received an affirmative. After an invitation to a family dinner the next Monday night, James got off the phone and went to change into more comfortable clothing, black slacks and a charcoal gray shirt.

He ended up in the game room, watching the latest episode of The F-Word with the others, sipping at an excellent scotch he had picked up a few weeks before.

Zak looked back at him and asked, “You don't think you might be developing an addiction, do you?”

“I only drink when it won't affect my work, therefore, not an addict. Now shut up and allow me to enjoy this excellent scotch without having to look at your hideous face. You're ruining the taste.”

Davina smiled stupidly as she walked into the apartment. She and her mother had spent over three hours, driving in her car, enjoying it greatly. Even her mother's pointing out that there was no space for baby seats hadn't blunted her mood.

She found her husband lying in their bed, reading a vegetarian cookbook.

Pulling the gown off, she revealed she had on only a pair of suspender hose and her heels. Straddling her husband, she asked, “Are you going to keep reading that prissy shit or fuck it right out of me?”

James dropped the book and flipped her. He held her arms above her head, smiling deviously. “How was the drive?”

She smiled dreamily.

“I'm going to remind you which ride is the greatest ride you've ever had, wench.”

Davina rubbed her husband's leg, awakening him.

He sat up and smiled, then yawned as she set his breakfast across his lap. While the sun wasn't up yet, it was his normal time awakening when the deliveries came. His normal day began between four AM and six, then ended between eleven thirty at night to as late as one AM. His wife's, and the rest of the crews, usually began between ten and noon and ended when his did. More responsibility just meant less sleep.

Davina straddled his knees and picked up the utensils, then fed him. “You knocked me unconscious again.” On their short honeymoon, the first night, they had literally gone at it for hours until Davina passed out and James in a worried panic called for the hotel doctor, though she had regained consciousness before the doctor arrived. The woman had laughed, then called it 'la petite mort,' earning James' enmity. He had heard of it happening but he had still been scared.

“I know. I was there. You were out for almost twenty minutes. Much longer than the last time.” She still passed out on occasion and it still worried him.

“Well, being unconscious is bad, but shit, the orgasm? It's so worth it. I love you, I love that cock, I love the way you love me.”

James pushed her still curled hair out of her face and smiled at her. “Thank you.”

She held up a forkful of rice flour crêpes filled with freshly whipped cream and peacotum jelly. “Eat,” she told him.

Forkfuls of prosciutto and pitaya were alternated between the bites of crêpes and kisses until James pushed the empty plates onto the floor and trapped his wife underneath him.

James' knife rocketed into the doorframe and Zak looked at it as it quivered less than a foot from him. “Uh...”

“You're fucking late.”

“It's not my fault, the fucking doctor kept me forever.”

“Go home,” he told him. He couldn't show his friend favoritism over the rest of the crew. Had it been a Tuesday, he would have punched him in the shoulder and forgotten about it. That was impossible when he had seventy-seven tables filled that night and three hundred guests on the books.

Zak scowled as he turned and headed back to the stairwell.

“Commis, my fucking knife.”

Davina's assistant brought it back to him and James sharpened it angrily. Short a man and the callback number on two of their reservations were French numbers.

He went to his office, then came back, holding three hand-rolled cigarillos from a Cuban in Florida and his torch lighter.

James disappeared into the crew room, a small pantry they didn't actively use with negative air pressure and strong filters so none of his people needed to go all the way down to the ground floor to have a fag.

“Good going, you fucks. My husband hasn't smoked in over two months and now he's puffing away and I'm the one who has to kiss him.” She didn't count his weekly cigar since she knew he inhaled the cigarillos and since he was working, he wouldn't brush his teeth right afterwards.

When he returned, James only opened his mouth to yell at his people, becoming even more abusive to the people, riding them all harder than he usually did, including calling his wife a clumsy cunt—and meaning it—when she dropped a plate.

When the night ended and they went upstairs, Davina stopped her husband from going into their bedroom. “Sleep on the fucking couch.”

When he awoke to accept shipments, he took a quick shower, then headed down, drinking coffee as the stock elevator dropped to the ground floor.

Locking it open with his card, he checked the fish and vegetables, then accepted the shipment and signed the invoice.

When he arrived back in the kitchen, he put them away, then began deciding portion sizes and the soup for that day.

When Davina came down, she ignored him unless he gave her a specific order, acknowledging him with a terse 'yes, chef.'

As they wound down from the late lunch crowd they had opened for, preparing the last three tables of meals, James was building towards another explosion of anger when the floor captain entered the area and said, “There are two French gentlemen from Michelin wishing to examine the kitchen.”

James checked his jacket, closed his eyes for ten seconds, then went out and greeted them in his flawless Meridional French.

When he was done showing them around, James told Davina she was in charge, then went upstairs, lit a fire, opened a bottle of 18-year-old Highland Park, lit a cigar and watched the fire crackle, letting his anxiety of the past two weeks bleed out of him along with the cigar smoke he blew out.

When his crew finished for the night, they found James fast asleep on the couch, the fire mostly embers and the bottle three quarters gone, the stubs of three cigars in his ashtray, the cinnamon odor destroying candle in the ashtray burnt out.

“What're you two fighting about?” Greg asked.

“He called me a cunt. And meant it.”

“You broke a five hundred dollar plate,” he told her. Zak had been the one to source the silverware and dishes. “And he's been stressed about his restaurant. We might have our own livelihoods behind it, but James put everything he had into this—and was divorced from his family. And he works and spends all his time with you. When he worked for Luciano, at least he could spend ten-twelve hours away from you. Now, you're constantly with him. He loves you like mad, but shit, I'd have stabbed you long ago.” Even though they all lived together, the three males didn't spend as much time together as the Threeblades did.

She glared at him, then scowled when Tony and Greg agreed.

Davina flounced off to bed as Zak put a blanket over his best friend, then took the rest of the drink for himself.

Valeria yawned as she opened the door, then blinked at her daughter and the suitcase she carried in surprise. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing. But we decided we spend way too much time together, so I was hoping I could crash her one, maybe two nights a month so James can actually have more than thirty seconds away from me.”

“No fight?”

“There was a fight, but it was resolved some time ago. Mister Acacia offered me a hotel room, but I would rather crash here. He also kicked out the rest of the crew and is sitting in his office, working on his novel. And drinking.”

“Get in, get in,” Valeria yawned again.

Davina put her bag in her old room, then went back down to the kitchen and poked around in the fridge. When Valeria returned from the shower, she was only slightly surprised to find an enormous brunch on the table.

“What do you want to do today?” she asked her daughter as she put more bacon on her plate.

“I'd say shopping, but James docked my pay this week five hundred.”

“What for?”

“I broke an expensive serving platter.”

“Doesn't he just write them off? I mean, we broke plates all the time when I worked in a restaurant.”

“Not five hundred dollar ones, I would bet. And he doesn't for anyone else. Our core group, he charges. We're supposed to be better than that.”

“Well, how about we go and spoil the hell out of Cameron and buy him something insanely loud?” Cameron was her older brother's five year old son.

Davina giggled and nodded.

“Bye Aunt Davie, Bye Gwanma,” the boy said, then rushed off to get in his mother's car as Davina and Valeria walked back to Davina's Lotus.

“I can't believe they gave you the car.”

“I can't believe James fucked off and gave away the money,” Davina replied.

Valeria laughed. “You're sounding so British.”

Davina's phone rang and she pulled it out of her purse. She looked at the caller identification. It was James' phone. “Hello?” She smiled. “I miss you, too. All right, fuck off, then.”

“What?” her mother asked, surprised.

“He told me he missed me, then told me to fuck off. He always does that. Well, not around other people.”

Valeria laughed, then asked, “Where do you want to have dinner?”

“You choose. Just about any place in town will make seating for us. And usually comp at least the main course.”

“Actually, I've wanted to try Olive's for some time. Your dad is always so busy. They comp you often?”

“We comp their meals, they usually reciprocate. Unless James despises the head chef of a place.” She giggled, then said, “When Todd English came into our restaurant last month, James told the maître d' to ask him to leave.”

“He doesn't like Todd English? Why? I like watching him on television.”

“James met him once before and the man totally dismissed him before he could even say anything to him. Once you burn James, he doesn't accept anything else.”

“Well, that is true. Hey, when did you get your tongue pierced?” Valeria had just noticed it.

“Uh, a couple months before the wedding, but I wore a clear plastic bit most of the time.”

“I'd ask why, but I already know.” Davina blushed brightly. “Has James done it as well?”

“Yes, actually. He just keeps the clear piece in, though. The metal one he had he seems to have an allergy to and he keeps forgetting to get one he doesn't have an allergy to. I should just go buy some pure gold and platinum ones.”

Davina opened her mouth and her mother squealed. The barbell said 'James' Girl.' “Oh my god, that is so adorable. What did his say?”

She blushed even deeper. “James had 'Davina Pleaser' on his.”

Valeria snorted, then asked, “Can I drive your car?”

“Sure, I guess. How long has it been since you drove a stick?”

“When my car was in the shop, the loaner was a stick. Hey, let's go get our navels pierced.”

Davina blinked. Her mother was always impetuous. When she was five, Davina had been looking in the jewelry shop at all the pretty earrings when her mother said, “Let's go get our ears pierced.” Davina had been frightened at first, until she saw her mother's ears get done a third time. She had pulled herself up on to the chair and into her mother's lap, then found it barely hurt when the teenager pierced her.

James raised his head, said, “Welcome home,” then dropped his head back onto his pillow and was fast asleep. Davina smiled, then dropped into bed next to him, hoping she didn't end up on her stomach.

When James awoke a few hours later, he kissed his wife's shoulder, then headed to get dressed and into his Ferrari. On the road in his yellow Gran Turismo, he started out for his favorite farmer's markets. While some of his stock was delivered, selecting his own fresh fruits and vegetables was the most important part. He could save a bad cut of meat but not bruised shite veg.

As he hand selected each tomato and ear of corn, James practiced his Spanish with the dealers. He had learned the language at five from a Spaniard. The Mexican language was different enough that he was learning to change the pronunciation of certain words.

With the fruits, vegetables, and rabbits he had selected for his crew's dinner all stowed away, he started his car and headed back to Vegas, thinking about the fish plate he needed to decide on.

Back at the restaurant, his wife looked at the rabbits. “Oh my god, they're so cute,” she told him and picked up the largest one. He blinked. For a moment, his wife looked fourteen again, and utterly adorable.

James rolled his eyes. “Babe, they're the crew dinner. Don't get attached. I'm snapping their neck soon enough.”

She pouted and put it back in the cage.

He shook his head and said, “You all are going to make a wonderful Rabbit Tetrazzini. Yes, yes you are. Huh, you look like my old guinea pig. Which means, I have to kill you first.” James pushed them away into the crew room.

He fixed his mise en place, then sharpened his blades. Heading into his office when he was done, he sat down and began preparing the new menu. His daily specials went on one page while the regulars; eight main courses, five starters, and six different desserts, were on the opposite page. Only his wine list was overly extensive, but even it was to be proxy modified. His daily specials were always listed with two wine suggestions. Many of his customers knew what went with what all ready, but by listing expensive bottles of wine that went divinely with the meal, less knowing customers often bought the wine suggested, raising the bill. Alcohol was where the real profit came from.

“Hey.” Davina was standing in the doorway.

“How was the day with your family?”

“Nice. We bought Cameron a drum set. How was your day alone?”

James smiled. “Wonderful. I had a blunt, drank some wine, and watched a marathon of The F-Word. Then came up with a new recipe. Come here.”

She settled in his lap and looked at the daily special printout as he designed it. “Hemp crusted wild salmon with a light pineapple salsa. Is it any good?” It didn't sound good to her.

“It was delicious. And it wasn't because I was high because I had Pierre taste it.” Pierre ran Café Nerissa, a four star French bistro on the ground floor.

She smiled as he began fondling her and asked, “Isn't this sexual harassment, chef James? Wouldn't your wife disapprove?”

“Shh. You want that promotion, right?”

Davina got up, then straddled his lap as the printer ran off the thick stock. “Okay, chef James.”

She hesitated, slid down and unzipped his trousers, then deep throated him as someone knocked on the office door.

He blinked and tried to push her off, but she bit him and held on tightly. “Uh, come,” he called.

Davina continued as his floor captain came in to get the updated menus. Monica spent a handful of minutes with him, making him grow even more uncomfortable as Davina teased him, fondling his testicles as she nibbled the tip of his penis.

He had to spend the next ten minutes in interminable agony as his wife used her thumb like a cock ring until Monica was gone.

When he finally came, James groaned. “God, it was like hell.”

“My turn,” she told him.

Davina locked the office door, then shucked her trousers and knickers off, and settled on the desk. He buried his head between her thighs as she smiled happily.

When he was done, she kissed his cheek.

“You know, it needed seasoning. A bit of pepper and maybe some sea salt,” he told her, teasing.

She kicked her husband, then went up to shower.

He followed her, though just washed his face and brushed his teeth.

When they returned to the kitchen, James saw Zak had finished the prep for the lunch service and had begun the crew meal.

“You killed them,” he complained.

“What? You said they were for dinner.”

“I know, but I wanted to do it.”

“You're fucked in the head, mate.” James and Zak had met first in England when James had wanted to thank the chef for his dinner. Zak had been the one who had done done the desserts. A few years later, while James was walking along the strip of Vegas, he stopped to ask someone where a restaurant he had been told about was at.

He had been surprised to see it was Zak and even more surprised when Zak recognized him. The two had begun chatting as they walked along as James told him about quitting his teaching position and working for Mark Askew before flitting off to America.

James had offered Zak the second room in his apartment when he mentioned how high rent was.

“No I'm not, I just haven't done it in so long, I though I might've become squeamish.”

“Fucked in the head, James. Fucked in the head.”

The kitchen staff laughed until James looked around then offered to start kicking ass.

Davina came in to the kitchen, tugging her hair into her collar then she dropped a kiss on her husband's chin and went to her station to see that her assistant had done well.

James took the hemp crusted salmon out and had each of the waitresses taste it so they could better describe it.

“Amazing, yes?” he asked.

“Yes, chef.”

“Yes, chef.”

“Yes, chef.”

“Yes, chef.”

“Yes, chef.”

“Yes, chef.”

“Yes, chef.”

“See above.”

James blinked, then handed the near empty plate to the last waitress. He grabbed the cheeks of the waitress who had last spoke and said, “That was adorable. Do it again, you're fired.”

“Yes, chef,” she replied. She smiled nervously.

The last waitress tasted it and said it was amazing, then James headed off back to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, he went to the break room and downed a bottle of water, then sat down to clear his mind for the five minutes before they opened.

After James walked back in, the first orders were soon posted and he barked out orders, then heard, “Yes, chef,” in reply as salads were delivered to his station so he could okay them, then he hit the buzzers of the waitresses.

Davina waved goodbye to her parents, then settled back into her seat. “That was good roast beef,” she said to James.

“A bit too well done,” James said. “Anyway, it was a nice dinner, nonetheless. Is every woman in your family just that ridiculously hot?” Her aunt had been there, Valeria's older sister and alike enough, James had felt like he had been in a room with triplets and the fantasy he had had since he was eleven kept running through his head.

“Daddy said he met my mom and three aunts at the same time and found himself deeply in love. Well, mom says lust.” She giggled. “Anyway, he had to check and make sure he wasn't hammered on lemonade.”

“Where did they meet?”

“Church social.”

James laughed. “You're serious?”

She nodded. “Dad was invited by a woman he had helped out and went along because he was new in town. Mom's family went every time, though mom was a bit of an atheist that developed more so.”

James nodded. His family were what Americans calls WASPs though he didn't believe in any formalized religion except a higher power that humans could never explain.

Davina took his hand as he drove, then asked, “Do we have to go home? Can we go somewhere different?”

“Where?” While legally, he could take his wife to a bar and she could be served, most would just refuse her service since she was still under twenty. “Wait, we can't, my love. I have that meeting with Anita today at eight.” The woman was just finishing a seven year position as the confidential assistant for a multi-billionaire.

“I don't know why she wants to work for a chef who's barely clearing a mill this year.” He was only going to be able to pay her sixty thousand a year before bonuses.

“She said she missed living in Vegas and the pay cut wasn't an issue. Come to the interview. She seemed nice enough on the phone.”

“Where is it at? Wait, where did you expect me to be?”

“With your parents. It's at Craftsteak. I have my cigar safe there.”

She nodded. While he kept a humidor in their apartment, he had a larger collection he kept in their licensed, bonded, and insured safe. “How much do you spend on cigars?” she asked.

“Um, in the last year? None. Before we married, I bought seven thousand dollars worth and won a ten thousand dollar bid on some amazing Cubans. I will buy some here and there, but those will last me until I die.”

“Of lung cancer.”

“Throat or mouth is more likely with cigars.”

“You aren't worried?” she asked.

“No one in my family has ever had cancer and we've all smoked forever.” He turned into the lot of the steak and cigar bar.

“It's only seven.”

“They'll serve you here so we'll have a few drinks before she arrives and I'll have a nice smoke.” James had just remembered Tony's ex-boyfriend was the maître d'hotel of the restaurant. “Vale is the headwaiter here.”

As she sipped at her Sweetie and James had a bourbon based Old-Fashioned, she, surprisingly, stayed with him while he smoked one of his Don Pepin Garcia Blue Labels. “I can't believe you're sticking around.”

“The whole place is full of smokers. Better to stay by you, then get pawed by some alky at the bar.”

“Here, try it.”

She held the cigar he handed her away from herself. “I don't succumb to peer pressure.”

“I'm five years older and your husband. It's not peer pressure, it's a husband suggesting a wife try something new. Don't inhale.”

She took a puff, then instantly blew it out and coughed. “Ick.”

“And yet, you love to get high on a blunt.”

She looked around to see if anyone had heard. “Don't say that.”

He laughed as the waitress brought out their plate of nibbles. Davina picked up the tomato basil mini pizza and popped it into her mouth. “I wonder why they split. They were a cute couple.”

James shrugged. “His being with a guy always weirded me out since he always was checking out girls.”

Desserts were brought out as Vale brought a brunette woman with vividly violet eyes. James blinked. For a half a moment, he wished he wasn't married as she said, “I'm Anita Charles.”

James stood and shook her hand, then gestured for her to sit. “James Threeblade. This is my wife, Davina. Please, sit.”

Vale took her drink order as James stubbed out his cigar and cut off the tip.

“You don't need to quit smoking,” she said.

“I prefer not to talk and smoke at the same time. You understand what I'm looking for, yes?”

“A personal assistant. Everything from watching the books to picking up the kids at school, yes?”

“Well, no kids--”

“Yet,” Davina said, smiling.

James rolled his eyes then flipped open his folder with her bio and CV. There were major gaps of years not working, but that wasn't surprising. She had inherited two million on her eighteenth birthday, then finished schooling in Switzerland. When she wanted a job, she worked for a year or three, then lived off of what she made. Now she was thirty six and winding down towards thinking about retiring.

“Can I ask a personal question?” Davina finally asked, interrupting her husband's note taking of Anita's replies.

“Of course.”

“Well, two, actually. Is that your natural eye color?” Davina asked.

“Yes. My dad has eyes the same color. Mom's eyes are about as green as yours.”

“Don't you want children?” she asked as the second question.

“I do, but, um, I'm a lesbian. Well, lesbian-identified 'lipstick lesbian' bisexual as one of my friends puts it.”

“No worries there. I walked in on one of my best friends slobbing the knob of his boyfriend, I won't have problems having a beautiful bisexual working for me.”

“You saw Tony and Vale?” Davina asked, surprised.

“Ugh, yes. He asked me if I would take a picture for them. I threw something at them.”

Davina giggled as Anita smiled.

When the interview was over, James shook her hand again and said he would call her in a few days.

Anita nodded and walked off, both he and Davina watching her bottom in the tight black skirt she wore.

“Hire her,” Davina told him.

“She's amazingly hot and you tell me to hire her? Best wife ever.”

“She's funny and smart and can do the job. Give me your phone.”

She found her number on his phone and left her a message. “When can you start?” then hung up.

James looked at his almost finished cigar. “What a waste.”

“Can't you just relight it? You did once before.” They had been talking and he had forgotten to take puffs for some time.

He nodded. “I can, but letting it get cold ruins the flavor.” James dropped the last two inches in the ashtray. “Want to have another drink or go home?”

“Home. We can have a drink there.”

James gestured for the bill and Vale walked over. “Chef Antonio wishes to let you know your meal is complimentary. Please tell Tony I said hello?”

James nodded and shook the man's hand, then they walked out, Davina wrapping her husband's hand around hers.

When they arrived at the hotel, James handed the key to the valet and said, “Car needs detailed. Cigar smoke and Davina dropped a piece of candy on the floor.”

“Yes, sir.”

On the way up in their private elevator, Davina looked down at the strip. “I love this city.”

“I love the people who live here willing to pay ninety dollars for a steak.”

“You paid that much for steaks in London.”

“Yes, but I had a huge trust fund. And an exquisite palate.”

“Smoker.”

“Wench.”

She kissed his cheek and said, “Brush your teeth and we'll fuck.”

James headed for their bathroom.

Anita followed Davina through the apartment, stopping to comment on the Christmas tree. “That's so beautiful. Did you do it?”

Davina nodded. “My dad dropped off the flocked tree, then I went out and got the blue twinkle LED lights and clear blue balls. And more flocking. I flocked the hell out of it.”

Both women giggled, then continued the tour. She showed Anita the almost unused kitchen, then they looked around James' upstairs office. “Is this where he does the orders for the restaurant?” There was nothing restauranty in the office.

“No. This is where he writes and works on mathematical proofs. He's still working on trying to prove something called... I forget. Very Latin; very, very boring when he explains it. Restaurant office is over here, down through the circular stairwell.” Davina headed down, followed by Anita.

“This is the office you'll be working in most of the time. And don't enter the kitchen unless you must.” She sniffed the woman. “Okay, not too much perfume. What size shoe do you wear?”

“Five.”

“Here, put these on.” They wore the same size shoes. “C'mon, I'll show you around the kitchen and restaurant.”

James looked up at the two females, then down at their feet. They both had slip resistant shoes on and James said, “Hey. Welcome to the circus. Zak, you slacker, where the fuck are they at?”

Zak came in with a dozen personal cakes on a tray. “Fuck off.”

He set the tray down as Davina gestured Anita on.

Zak watched them go. “Fuck, that's hot.”

“Lez,” James told him.

“I'll get a sex change for that,” he said, somewhat dreamily.

Davina pulled her card from her pocket and they took the express down to the wine cellar. “This is our area of the wine cellar. We have twenty-five thousand bottles of wine, not including James' collection of wines which hits like sixty thousand. You'll have to pick up wines and go to auctions to bid on more, as well.”

“James discussed that with me.”

Davina nodded grabbed a bottle of six hundred dollar bottle of bordeaux. “Here.”

“For what?”

“For you. Signing gift as it were.”

Upstairs, Davina filled out a buy slip for the wine, then put it on James' desk. “So, this is where you'll be working. First thing..., wait, there's a list right there.” Davina took it off the table and looked it over. “Here you go. I need to get to work before James screams--”

“DAVINA, GET TO FUCKING WORK!”

“--at me.”

Anita smiled as Davina headed into the kitchen proper. She sat down at the desk and began looking over the books like James wanted.

Much later, she poked her head out of the office and asked, “Where's James?”

He came up from her blindside. “What?”

“There's something wrong with your books. Do you have a few minutes?”

“Not right now. Twenty minutes.”

Anita nodded and went back into the office as James yelled for time on table seven's main course.

When he came into the office, he ignored Anita for a moment as he picked up a bottle of water from the mini fridge, then drained it in one go.

“So, what's the problem?”

She showed him the books, then showed him the little accounting tricks used in it. “How much is missing?” he asked finally.

“About one hundred thousand. Who did the book work?”

“One of the accountants for the hotel.” James picked up his phone. “Acacia? James. Come on up to my office via my apartment. Yeah, very important. Thanks.”

“How come you never noticed?” she asked. As a mathematician, he should have noticed it almost instantly.

“I work fourteen to twenty hours a day. Looking at those books is the last thing I want to do when I have some free time. By the time the day is over, I've lost two pounds through sweat, haven't eaten anything most of the day except tastes here and there, and my body is aching every where. By the time I can get out of here, I just want to go to bed, maybe have some sex if I'm not dying.”

She smiled at that.

Acacia came down the stairs a few moments later.

“You know how your people do my books for me?”

“Yeah. It seemed like a good idea. What's wrong?”

Anita showed him the book and Acacia's eyes narrowed, then clenched his fist. His phone came up as he dialed a number. “Josh? Find Erica Simmons and put her in the box.”

He put his phone back in his pocket. “We'll cut you a check and deliver it tomorrow, James. I'm sorry.”

Acacia left the room as James sighed. “Shit. All right. Anything else? I have guests arriving soon.”

Anita shook her head.

Back in the kitchen, James pulled his core crew together, then told them about what had happened. They had all thought the discrepancy was waste and the like. Since it had only been a few dollars here and there and extended amounts on costs outlaid, it had been well hidden for casual glances.

“That bitch,” his wife said. She walked off, then came back with her knife and a sharpening rod. “Where is she? I feel like serving longpig.”

James half watched Anita and Davina sitting on the couch, sipping at their wine as they laughed and told stories. The two had become friends quickly.

When Davina had found out the woman had no one to spend Christmas with—her parents were going on a cruise for Christmas—she had invited her to spend it with James and Davina at her parents' . Anita had tried to play it off but Davina had pressed.

The Montanas were celebrating with their foster parents while Zak had gone home to the East Coast so all the presents under the tree weren't going to be opened until January first when they had the restaurant closed for a massive cleaning and update of the interior of the dining room. The eighty thousand they reclaimed was going into that.

James noticed the two whispering and smiled. Anita was older than him, but sitting next to his wife, the two looked like teenage girls having a slumber party and drinking a 1982 Château Lafite-Rothschild they had stolen from one of their father's liquor cabinets.

“James, you want another early Christmas gift?” his wife asked.

“Always,” he replied.

Instead of saying anything else, Davina and Anita leaned into each other and kissed. James smiled as he watched Anita use her free hand to fondle his wife's breast.

Davina pulled away and said, “What are you waiting for, baby?”

“Really?” he asked, surprised. She had said after they married anymore threesomes would be greatly unlikely.

Anita set her wine glass down and began unbuttoning Davina's blouse.

James dove to join them.

Davina snuggled against Anita as James looked up at the mirror above them. As the two women slept, his mind was more on the fact he had barebacked his wife and another woman in the same bed. Not a brilliant idea, but it had been the most fun he had had in some time.

Anita rolled over and murmured, “Are you still awake?”

“Um, yeah.”

She kissed his chest and murmured, “I had forgotten how nice it was to feel a man inside me. Do me again.”

“We really shouldn't have without a condom,” he said, instead of a reply.

“Not that time of the month and Davina said you're clean,” she replied as she sat up.

“I don't think we should unless Davina's awake.”

Anita nodded to that then turned over. “Davina? Davina?”

His wife opened an eye, then muttered, “What?”

“Can I fuck your husband again?”

“Do whatever you want, lemme sleep. Tired.”

Anita smiled and turned to kiss James. As she was stroking him, Davina's eyes opened again and she said, “Go to the guest room.”

James blinked in surprise, then realized his wife was fully awake. Leaning over, he whispered, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, go 'way.” She took his pillow and hugged it as she rolled over and tried to fall back in to sleep.

Anita pulled him out of the room, smiling.

James watched his wife walk into their kitchen. “That was a unique Christmas gift.”

“Wasn't it better than what you gave me?” They both gave each other a small early Christmas gift while the rest waited under the tree.

“I gave you a ten thousand dollar diamond and sapphire necklace.” He wasn't sure if the threesome or the hand crafted mortar and pestle were the official pre-Christmas gift. Either way, he liked them both.

Davina dropped her coffee and gasped. She put her fingers on the necklace, then hugged him tightly. When she let go, she hit him in the chest. “I thought these were glass. We said five hundred dollar limit on each of three gifts.”

“I lied. Who's the king, baby? What's the point of squirreling your trust fund away for fifteen years if you can't spend it on the most wonderful woman in the world?” His trust fund had become active the day he started college at six with almost one hundred thousand Pounds a year for him.

Davina wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “I love you,” she murmured in between kisses.

“Has Anita left?”

“She went home to change and put on her makeup. She'll meet us here, then we take the Ferrari.”

There was a knock at the door and James blinked. “That was fast.”

Davina went to answer the door as he cleaned up her mess.

“Sir James, please,” the man at the door said.

“Uh, one moment. James, there's a kind of military looking, Liverpudlian sounding guy at the door for you.”

When James walked into the room, the man came to attention and held out an envelope.

“From the Embassy?” he asked as he looked at the envelope, then opened it and unfolded the sheet inside. “My mother uses the embassy as a message relay? What happened, three hundred people die and we get closer to the--” he stopped speaking as his wife tried not to look too curious. “You've got to be shiting me.”

James handed it off to his wife and her eyes went wide. “You have a kid?!” she asked angrily.

“Not that I knew of. Her mother...,” he trailed off then turned back to the embassy guard. “Are you waiting for a reply?”

“Sir, no, sir. We have a limo awaiting to take you to the airport. The flight leaves in one hour, Sir James.”

“Sod off. Come back in two hours, then I'll be ready to go.” James shut the door angrily. His mother was still trying to control his life, now by proxy.

“Honey, I didn't know, I swear. I would have told you long ago.”

After a few moments, she nodded. “What are you going to do?”

“Go home. They already tested the blood against my brother's. Said they're relatives...”

“Who was the mother?” Davina asked, stepping back from her husband and crossing her arms.

“This post-grad I met while I was finishing my math doctorate. She had a very Nordic look to her, if I remember right.”

“You barebacked her and don't remember her looks?”

“No, the condom broke. We met at a party, had a tussle, then never saw each other again. All I really remember about her was that she was a natural blonde, fake paps, and a long scar on her stomach.” He left out fantastic fuck.

“And what are you going to do?”

The little girl's at the castle. I guess fly home and then... Christ, the only correct thing. Bring her here. We need to hire a nanny...” he trailed off as he thought about how this was fucking his life, and possibly his marriage, over.

“Okay, I'm coming. Let me find my passport.”

“Wait, you don't want to screw up your--”

“It's already screwed up if you're gone, dummy. Once Anita gets here, we'll tell her what's up, then go.”

“Tell me what?” Anita asked as she walked in the still open front door.

“James knocked a chick up when he was in London when he was seventeen. She's seven now. Her mother passed away a few days ago,” Davina told her.

“I'll come with you.”

“Uh, fine, all right. Better head home and get a bag together,” James replied.

“All ready have one. It's the usual bag I keep in my car for quick travel events. When do we leave?”

“As soon as the driver arrives. I'm going to go have a smoke and a few large drinks.” James walked out of the room.

Davina called her parents and told them they had to fly to Scotland for a family emergency and that they would be back the next day.

When the driver returned, the three followed him down to the ground floor.

Davina gasped when she saw the castle. “You grew up here?”

“Yes. I wonder if Samson is still alive?”

“Who's Samson?” Anita asked.

“My Olde English Bulldogge. Had him since I was five, but he got sick just before I decided to move here. He should be dead by now. God, he was so sweet.”

At the entrance, an elderly man stood at the top of the stairs, smiling. “Welcome home, Master James.”

James smiled. “Jeeves. Good to see you. Is my father here?”

“No. He is currently on an inspection tour of his overseas holdings. There was a fire at one of the plants. Foul play is presumed.”

“Probably for the best.” He hesitated, then asked, “Is... is Samson still alive?”

“No, Master James. He passed away a year ago, but he did sire some excellent puppies.”

James pouted. “Oh, shite. Jeeves, this is my wife, Davina.” She gave a small wave, greatly subdued at the suit he wore and the immense castle.

“Hello, missus. A great pleasure.” His cockney accent reminded her of Michael Caine.

“And this is my new assistant, Anita Charles.”

“Miss Charles. An honor.”

“Where is the girl? And my mother?” James asked.

“Lilith, sir. A very pretty young lady. Would you care for tea on the terrace when you meet her or in the garden?”

“The garden, I believe.”

“I shall call for the servants,” Jeeves said.

“We can carry our own bags. We only have an overnighter each and we aren't staying here.”

Inside, they set their bags just inside the door as Jeeves told James his mother was in her sitting room. He hesitated, then asked, “There's no way I can be here without seeing her, is there?”

“I should think not, Master James.”

“You know, master isn't the correct term anymore.”

“Sir, you will always be Master James.”

James smiled and patted Jeeves on the shoulder.

Jeeves walked off and James said, “He was my guardian most of the time when I was a university. This way. Mum was too busy back here to spend all her time in London.”

Davina blinked when they got out to the gardens. “You gave up all this for me?”

“I love you, you silly twit.”

Anita looked around. “I think I've been here before when I was working for Servile. Does your family throw an annual lawn bowling party?”

“Yes, we do,” a woman's voice said from behind them. “Welcome back, James.”

“Hello, mother.”

Davina and Anita turned to see an attractive and still lithe woman in her late fifties looking at them, a young girl right behind her, hiding behind the woman's long skirt, an Olde English Bulldogge puppy in her arms, a bright orange bow wrapped around its neck that matched the girl's dress.

James hesitated, then walked forward. “Lilith?”

The girl hesitated, then stepped out when prodded by Mrs. Threeblade. Davina realized the girl had the exact same silver eyes as James.

She nodded and James said, “I'm..., I'm your father.”

She held up the puppy she had in her arms. “This is Amadeus. Grandma Kaitlin gave him to me.”

James' mother smiled at the girl.

“Very handsome lad you have there. Who's his dam and sire, mother?”

“Princess Sophistic and one of the sons of Samson. Not sure which.”

“Excellent pedigree,” James told the girl. “Samson was my dog. Sweetest bulldog ever.”

“How did you know my mommy?”

“She and I were... friends in University. We lost contact.” He walked back to the table, then picked up a bell and rang it. A few moments later, one of the servants walked out.

“Yes, sir, ma'am?”

“Please show my wife and assistant around the manor. I need to speak with my mother.”

The woman led the other two away as James turned back to the little girl. “There are biscuits on the table. Would you like some?”

Lilith nodded and walked over, then set the dog on the ground and picked up a handful of biscuits, kneeling to feed the puppy one.

“The eyes clinch it, yes?”

His mother nodded. “What were you thinking? Her mother may have been smart but--”

He held his hand up. “Broken condom.”

“Your wife is beautiful.”

“Yes, she is. She's also brilliant, skilled, and an excellent chef and partner.”

“I read a review of your restaurant,” she told him.

“In what magazine?”

“The usual society rag. Of course; a son of a Baron running a restaurant will be reviewed.”

“Considering the average Scottish palate, how did I do?”

“Ailish said she's awaiting your first Scottish restaurant with bated breath.”

James shrugged. “Ugh, her, I hope she keeps holding that breath. I guess—I guess, I'm taking her home with me.”

“When?”

“I have tickets to leave tomorrow morning. We have rooms at a subsidiary of the hotel group I've got my restaurant in so we'll stay there.”

His mother scowled at that, then wiped it off her face. “You'll stay for dinner at least. With your father away, I'm not letting you leave. And your uncle Basil will be here.”

Basil patted James on the shoulder. “I've got leave coming up in a month. I've always wanted to see Las Vegas. Expect me, you little wanker.”

James grinned and pulled his uncle into a hug. “Sod off.”

He dropped to his knee. “Lilith, I'll be back tomorrow morning. I'm sorry, but Amadeus won't be able to go with us right away. Mum will put him in the quarantine stuff, then Anita there will come to get him. I promise.”

She nodded hesitantly as James hesitated, then pulled her into a hug. “I'll see you tomorrow after breakfast. I know, it's a shite Christmas.”

He got into the car and watched her until she was no longer visible in the fog.

Davina held her husband's hand and said, “You have to be the stupidest man alive giving up a castle for me.” She kissed his cheek. “And I love you. Hell, I'd have been your mistress.”

At the hotel, James ordered a bottle of thirty year old Tullibardine scotch whisky and four Cuban cigars, then sat on the couch brooding and looking out the window as Davina and Anita watched the television, drinking a bottle of wine.

“James, come to bed,” his wife said, much later after Anita had gone to bed.

He hesitated, then made sure his cigar was out, recorked the bottle, and followed her to the bedroom.

When she began to initiate sex, he was slightly surprised but happily began kissing her back. “Thought you would be mad at me,” he murmured into her neck.

“Not your fault. You're doing the—oh, do that again—doing the right thing,” she grunted the last.

James thought about waking the girl, then decided to just pick her up. She murmured sleepily as the stewardess stepped aside and James walked to the stairwell. On the tarmac, a limo waited for them and they walked to it. He settled the girl in, then helped Davina and Anita put the girl's steamer trunk and bags in the trunk of the vehicle. Their own ended up in the back seat with them then the driver headed back to the hotel.

Lilith woke up when they went over a pothole and realized they were no longer on the plane. She hesitated, then got on her knees and looked out the rear window. “Are we there, all ready?”

James nodded. “Las Vegas. Entertainment Capitol of the World.”

When they arrived at the hotel, she blinked as she looked up at the seventy-two story building. “You own a hotel?”

Davina smiled at the awe in her voice. “No, sweetie. We own a restaurant and seven bedroom apartment. Mister Acacia.”

The man was walking towards them and shook James' hand when he arrived, then kissed Davina's cheek. “Welcome home. How was the trip?”

“Paul,” James said, “this is Lilith. Lilith, this is Mister Acacia. He's President of Operations. In charge of this hotel and all the others that are part of the hotel group of the owners.”

She gave a slight curtsy, then went back to looking at the fountain as James walked off with Acacia. “I'm not sure, but I think my life just went more pear shaped than I ever thought possible.”

Acacia smirked. “Pear shaped. You Brits. Believe me, seven years old is a lot easier than two years old.”

“What are the hotel rules on pets?”

“Depends on the pet.”

“My mother gave her an Olde English Bulldogge. It's being prepped to come over here.”

“Should be fine. Bulldogs are usually sweet as hell. I had a bulldog as a kid. Loved that fucker. Anything else?”

“Ugh, schools and stuff but Anita will take care of all that.”

Acacia smiled and headed off as James turned back to see all their bags on a trolley and being pushed into the building.

Inside, James led his wife and Lilith to the private elevator bank that led to their alcove on the residence floor.

Inside the apartment, Davina went to shower as James showed Lilith to the guest room while the Valet began setting bags into the apartment. “Here's your room. The decorations are sparse because it's mostly just for guests. Tomorrow, we'll go shopping and get you a bedspread you like and some decorations.”

He showed her through the rest of the apartment, telling her to stay out of the liquor cabinet, then led her down the circular stairwell. “This is my restaurant's office and this is the kitchen. You'll eat down here a lot since we're busy always. The only day off we have are Mondays. And holidays. We open again on the thirty-first for New Years. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“Um, hungry,” she told him. Around him, she was still nervous but around others, she became slightly more animated.

“Are you allergic to anything?” He had her full medical records but hadn't looked them over.

“No. I don't like olives.”

“Ugh, I hate black olives. Nasty smelling little things. Green ones; they smell bad but not as much. How about a scramble?”

“Okay.”

He chopped up chives and prepared the crème fraîche, then put the toast on the grill and bacon and potatoes alongside.

When it was done, he set it on the table in front of her, then went to get a fork and knife.

“Do you have any jam?”

“I have some very good peacotum jelly.”

He opened the small refrigerator at the dessert station, then used a small spoon and held out a bit for her to taste. When she nodded, he used a knife to put a dollop of it on the plate next to her toast. As she ate, he asked, “Tell me about your mum. She and I met each other a long time ago, then... lost contact.” He wasn't going to tell her the woman had been a mostly drunk fuck at a party.

As the girl told him about the woman, he cleaned up, then fixed himself an espresso. As he sipped it, he saw Davina standing in the doorway to the office. She blew a kiss at him, then went back upstairs as Lilith said, “But then a drunk driver hit the car she and Tony were in.”

“Tony was her boyfriend?”

She nodded, tears in her eyes. “He was really nice. Always brought me some chocolate biscuits from his bakery.”

“You want to watch a movie? I want to watch a movie. Let's see if I have anything child appropriate.”

He set her empty plates in the dishwashing area, then they went upstairs and into the game room. Davina was sitting on the computer and James kissed her forehead. “What're you doing?”

“Emailing the others about Lilith.”

“Ah. We're gonna watch a movie. Join us?”

She nodded and finished up the email as he and Lilith looked at their DVD collection. “Can we watch this?” she asked and held up the first Harry Potter movie.

“Sure,” he told her. “I don't think I've watched it myself.”

She looked at him in surprise as Davina smirked. James put the disc in and Davina pulled out James' stash of Mitre Sherbert Pips and joined them on the sofa.

“That is the coolest television ever,” Lilith murmured.

When the movie was over, James carried her to bed and hesitated. She needed to get undressed but actually doing it himself felt wrong. Instead, he put the duvet over her and walked back into the hallway. Davina smiled at him.

“What?”

“She has your nervous habit.”

“What nervous habit?”

“Where you rapidly bounce your left leg. It's cute. Now, come to bed.”

The next morning, Davina sat on the counter of their bathroom, holding a straight razor and carefully shaving her husband. Halfway through, she said, “Good morning, Lilith.”

James opened his eyes and saw the girl's reflection in the mirror, wearing an Arsenal jersey over a black denim skirt. He shifted so she wouldn't see his erection tenting his shorts.

“Why are you shaving him?”

“Sometimes it's the only way we can spend time together during the day. Want to help?”

Lilith hesitated, then nodded and walked over. James helped her up on to the counter as she asked, “Why are you only wearing your bra?”

“Don't want to get anything on my blouse. Here, hold it like this, then carefully move it up his face. Just in this small spot,” she pointed to a small spot. “The blade is very sharp. I used to do this with my dad when I was little.” She left off that her father had her quit when she went through puberty. She looked entirely too much like her mother and it was much too intimate of an event.

Lilith grinned when she pulled away the razor with a small clump of bristles and foam but no blood.

Davina rinsed it off, then finished the shave and patted her husband's face clean, kissed his chin, and handed him a small bottle of vanilla scented alcohol. Davina slid off and went to put on the blue blouse she had set out.

James noticed her ears weren't pierced as he helped her down and asked, “You want to get your ears pierced?”

“Can I?” she asked excitedly. “Mum said I couldn't until I was thirteen.”

“Oh, well, I should do as your mother wanted, but I am your guardian now so, let's do it while we're shopping.”

She hugged him, then danced off excitedly then came back. “Um, do I need to wear anything specific?”

“No. Just what you're wearing is fine.”

Davina went to answer the front door and let Anita in. “When are we going?” she asked.

“You're coming with us?” Davina queried and Anita nodded.

James called down to the Valet service as Lilith clutched Davina's hand.

When they arrived on the ground floor and walked out, Lilith asked, “Are we going in a limo again?”

“No, this time we're using James' car,” Davina told her.

“That's your car?” Lilith asked, surprised.

James nodded. “Yeah. Love my car.”

Davina rolled her eyes as a valet opened the door. “Lilith, sit behind the driver's seat so Anita has the more leg space from Davina's side.”

“Okay.”

James took the keys from the valet and slid it in, then hit the starter button.

At the Fashion Show Mall, the four spent most of the day fighting the crowds and getting Lilith clothing, bedroom items that would be delivered, and then had an early lunch at Cento & Fanti Gourmet Market to make up for a lack of breakfast.

“So, are you into games? Reading? Movies?”

“Um, all three, actually. I really like Naruto.”

“Naruto?” Davina asked, sure she had heard the name before.

“Japanese cartoon,” her husband answered and Lilith nodded. “About a kid who's just become a ninja. It's actually pretty interesting.” Tony was a big fan.

Lilith hesitated, then reached out to hold James' hand. Both Anita and Davina smiled at each other.

“Well, let's go take a look around the toy stores. Your room is still going to be pretty empty without some toys.”

“Yes..., daddy.”

The two women smiled even brighter as James' face flushed.

Lilith hesitated, then knocked on James' and Davina's bedroom door. There was muffled noise, then her father said, “Yes?”

The girl pushed the door open and sniffled, “I'm scared.”

James hesitated, then patted the bed in between him and his wife.

Lilith clambered onto the bed, clutching her stuffed bear tightly. She snuggled between the two and slowly nodded off. James sighed and looked up at the mirror, then thought, well, I guess this is practice for when Davina finally talks me into getting her pregnant.

He kissed the girl's temple, then tried to fall asleep, hoping he wouldn't wake up with an erection.

When morning came around, Davina opened her eyes to find Lilith lying next to her and James gone, not surprisingly. A note on the bathroom mirror said he was off to pick up the meat for New Year's Eve dinner.

When she came back out, Lilith was stirring and Davina picked out her clothing for the day, a thin semi-sheer black blouse to go over her purple bra, garter belt and thong and a leather pencil skirt.

She was pulling up her stockings and straightening the seam when Lilith asked, “Where's, um, my daddy?”

“He had to go buy meat for New Year's Eve. What do you want to do today?”

“Are you wearing stockings? Mummy always said only slaggy tarts wear stockings.”

Davina didn't know the slang, but she did get the general drift. “Maybe in England, but my mom always wore stockings. She said that it takes a real woman to wear them. I like them. So does your dad. He says my legs always look best clad in silk.” She only barely resisted the urge to say something rude about the girl's mother. “What do you want to do today?”

“I don't know. Who are all those presents under the tree for?”

“Our roommates. All the chefs that own a part of the restaurant live here, so we'll be opening our presents together when they return from their families' places. Though, we still need to go see my parents' for Christmas. Hang on.” She picked up the land line and dialed. “Daddy? Hi. Yeah, we're back. James is off getting the meats for New Years' dinner. The family emergency? Why don't you come over and see it for yourself. No, not today. Tomorrow. All right, see you then. Love you too, daddy.”

“Is your daddy nice?” Lilith asked.

“Very. He's actually a S.W.A.T.—uh, what you would call a bobby, I guess—but he's specially trained to mostly break down doors and deal with hostage situations. And look awesome in his old Marine Corps uniform.” She picked up a photobook and showed her a picture of her parents' wedding day.

“Your mom looks just like you.”

“Yeah. Heh, actually, once, your dad kissed my mom by accident”—she changed the story slightly. James had actually kissed and fondled her by accident—“because we both had the same haircut and color and he was expecting me to wait for him in my backyard, not my mother who had offered to tell James that my father was taking me to see a movie. So he came up behind, wrapped his arms around, then said, 'Guess who?' and kissed her neck. My mom said, 'A very embarrassed future son-in-law?' ”

Lilith giggled at the story.

“You're handling all this very well,” Davina told her.

“Mommy always said I was seven, going on seventy. I'll be eight on February Sixth,” she stated proudly. “And she told me to be brave.” The car wreck hadn't killed her straight away. She had lived in the hospital for two more days before a damaged artery in her brain let go.

“We'll have to prepare a party.” The phone rang and Davina went to answer. When she came back, she said, “Your bedroom stuff is here. The maintenance people are bringing it up, right now.”

A few minutes later, the private elevator arrived and they began moving the stuff into the guest room, then moving the old items into the second guest room. It would be storage for now.

James wandered through the Toys “Я” Us, then finally gave up. He had no clue what to buy a little girl for Christmas. He knew what he had wanted was totally different from the average child. His wishes had always been computers, calculators, mathematics based artworks, and other extremely geeky things.

“Miss?” The young woman turned around and asked, “Yes?”

James said, “My seven year old daughter just came to live with me on Christmas day, which ruined hers and mine and I was trying to think of something to get her. I didn't even know she existed until two days ago. Any suggestions?”

She showed him half a dozen items but he ended up not getting anything until on the way home, he went past a hobby store and saw a sign that said they had Robosapiens in. James stopped and bought one, getting batteries as well, then headed home. She might not like it, but she might greatly enjoy the toy as well.

At the apartment, he found a note saying the two had gone down to the spa. James took the time to wrap the toy, then added it under the tree before picking up the ingredient list for New Years' dinner and marking off what had come in, then circling what he still needed to pick up on the list.

When they returned, Lilith stood in front of her father and asked, “What do you think?”

He blinked, then realized she had makeup on, though it was very subdued. “Very pretty.”

She hugged him, then headed off to her room as Davina looked at her freshly done fingers.

“You do know you need to get that off before work, right?”

“Fakes.”

“Ah. You look hot.”

She smiled as he pulled her into a hug and kiss. They were still kissing when Lilith came back into the room, carrying her favorite DVD, an episode of the Jeff Corwin Experience. “Can I watch this?”

James pulled away from the kiss and smiled. “Sure. Davina? I'm going back down to the kitchen to make lunch.”

Davina went to show the girl how to use their PVR and DES. Their DES had a region free DVD drive and software player.

“You're really not freaked out about having to become a mother to a seven year old?” Valeria asked her daughter as the two sat on the couch, watching the girl play Hungry, Hungry Hippos with Darryl and Anita. James had had to go to a meeting with the Embassy to take care of some of the paperwork they had shortcutted by just leaving the UK on a private plane.

“I'm totally freaked out, but it's not like James sprung this on me on purpose or something. He had a one-nighter and the condom broke then never saw the woman again until she died and told whatever they call Social Services over there who the father was.”

Valeria nodded after a moment, then smiled at the three playing on the floor. “Your dad and I have been talking about trying for one more kid.”

“That would be awesome. But, you know that in your forties--”

“The chances of Down's and other genetic disorders grow, I know.”

Davina hesitated, then asked, “Would—would you abort?”

Valeria looked out the window, then nodded. “It's horrible, but as much as I could handle another child for twenty years, I couldn't handle one until I die.”

“Speaking of perpetual idiocy, David hasn't called me in weeks.” Davina's older brother. She hoped it would change the mood of the conversation.

“He's been pretty busy, from what his last letter said. Searching for cures in the Amazon's got to be hard.” Her elder brother was a medical doctor, endowed by a corporation to search the Amazon for new compounds. “James has a medical degree, right?”

Davina nodded. James had finished a medical degree—the youngest ever doing so—through Oxford then finished his Mathematics degree as the third youngest mathematician.

“Do you ever wonder why he decided not to intern and use his medical training?”

Before she could answer, the front door opened and James held up a box of Kobe beef. “Fifty eighteen-ounce Kobe steaks at only one hundred a pound! Cut them down to six ounces each and booyeah, two hundred percent profit.”

“What's Kobe, um, daddy?” Lilith asked. She still felt nervous calling him father.

“Very expensive steaks people are willing to spend way too much on.” He hummed happily as he headed down to the kitchen to put them in their steak storage to age them for at least twenty-eight days.

When he came back up, he had the fixings for lunch, then settled into the kitchen to begin cooking as Lilith sat on the bar stool, watching.

Lilith clutched Davina's thin sweater, hiding behind her as she introduced the little girl to the Montanas and Zak. “You can come out. I don't bite,” Zak told her. “Well, I do, but only when your back is to me.”

Davina's eyes flashed and Zak took a step back. “A joke, Da, a joke.”

“He's actually a nice guy, except in the kitchen,” Tony said and knelt down. “I found this and thought you might like it.” He held out a large teddy bear dressed like a chef, the jacket embroidered with Li'l Chef on it.

Lilith blushed as she accepted the bear. When she squeezed it, the bear said, “Hello there, Children.”

Davina snickered at Isaac Haye's voice coming from the bear.

Lilith squeezed it again, delighted with the bear. "Don't do drugs, kids. There is a time and place for everything. It's called college."

Davina glared again as the three males burst out laughing. Lilith squeezed again and walked off to her room, continuously squeezing it to hear more.

When she was gone, Davina asked, “What the fuck? Anything else inappropriate on that?”

“Just that line. I wanted to include the god one, but it was way too long. I was going to do Cartman quotes, but that fucker is one sadistic fuck.”

Lilith wandered back and hugged Tony, saying thank you at the same time, then dashed off once more to hide in her room and finish reading the book she had started before being called out of her room.

Davina punched him in the arm, then dropped onto the couch.

“Where's James?” Zak asked.

“Still selecting vegetables for tonight,” Davina told them. James had left at four AM that morning to head for a further away Farmer's Market, his trunk filled with plastic to protect the interior and loaded with ice. “He said he would be back by two at the latest.” Since they were opening at eight for the New Year's party, he had more than enough time. Most everything that could be had been prepared the day before and now it was only noon.

“Who's making lunch?” Greg asked as he sat across from Davina.

“Not me,” everyone said, Zak saying it slightly slower.

“Merde,” he muttered and went down to the kitchen.

Lilith sat in the office of Threeblade's, coloring in a Spongebob Squarepants coloring book as she heard muffled yelling in French. The door opened and Davina walked in, smirking, then set a plate of canapés on the desk. “Here, dinner will be ready in about two hours, all right?”

“Okay, Davina. What are those?”

“Try them, then decide what you like. Got to get back to work.”

She abandoned the crayons and settled on the desk chair then was temporarily entranced by the screen saver of a photocube of James and Davina, bouncing around the screen, leaving tracer trails from the bright green frame. Turning her head away, she picked at the items, trying to guess what they were, then gave up and nibbled each one. The ones she didn't like were pushed aside, then she finished off six of the canapés.

When Davina came to get her, she found Davina's parents and three other people sitting at the large Chef's Table where Davina helped her into a seat and Valeria introduced the girl to the others, Zak's parents and uncle.

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen was largely quiet, the only true disturbance James pulling one of the commis into the break room. When he came out a few minutes later, he pointed at Davina. “You're next.”

She blinked, surprised. She hadn't done anything wrong.

When the door closed behind her, James pulled her into a hug and smiled at her. “Hi.”

“You dick, I thought you were mad at me.”

“I am. You haven't kissed me since this morning.”

She giggled, then kissed him. She let James unbutton her jacket, revealing her favorite bra, a strapless sheer green bra she wore quite often. When he started to pull her trousers down, she murmured, “We don't have time.”

“Fuck that, I'm fucking you,” he told her as he pushed her bikini underwear down. Davina hesitated, then gave in. She hated to admit it, but whenever James dominated her sexually during work, she ended up being incredibly turned on.

She ended up pressed against the door, James in her from behind, kissing her neck as she murmured for him to go faster.

When they were done, Davina straddled his lap on a chair and kissed his face repeatedly. “Why do I let you do things like that to me?”

“Because you know that no matter how many times I yell at you, curse you, or treat you like shit at work, you're always my goddess when we're alone,” he whispered into her ear.

“Mostly. You also make me cum. A lot.”

James smiled at that. “Slut.”

“Mmm,” she murmured as he massaged her back. “Can't wait for tomorrow.” They were having their Christmas then and she wanted her presents.

A knock on the door was followed by Tony saying, “Hey, you need to get out there. Your public awaits you.”

“Christ,” James murmured.

“Go. Talk to the adoring public.”

In the kitchen, he took off his working jacket and pulled on a clean one, then went out, accepting a glass of champagne from one of the waitresses. He mingled for twenty minutes, then escaped back into the kitchen just in time to kiss Lilith goodnight and go upstairs to tuck her in and read her a story.

When he came back down, Davina had changed into a shimmery strapless black sheath dress and most of the crew had changed into dinner jackets or suits. James had planned to stay in his chef's jacket but Davina had pulled out his Royal Marine dress uniform.

He changed into it in the office, then came out.

“Hoooootttt,” she breathed. “What? No kilt?”

“Wrong regiment. I can't believe I'm wearing this.”

Davina grabbed his arm and pulled him out to where their paying guests were sipping champagne and mingling.

As the clock slowly counted down to midnight, James tried to ignore a pair of men who were trying to talk him into endorsing their products. Finally, he said, “Gentlemen, I will not and can not endorse your products. My family has already disowned me. I don't wish to lose my status as a Knight of the Order of the Thistle, nor do I wish to embarrass my lineage.”

He walked away and found his wife standing with the mayor and President Acacia, his wife laughing at something one of them said.

“I can not believe I paid you ten thousand for this night,” the mayor told James as he walked up.

“Hey, amazing food, free champagne that's seven hundred a glass only half full? Open bar? You're getting a deal. Normally, my prices to actual costs are much higher than tonight's bash.” Both men laughed as James kissed his wife's temple. “Where's your wife?”

The Mayor pointed towards the window where a clump of women were looking out at the fireworks show, one gesticulating wildly.

As midnight approached, James and Davina slipped away, leaving Zak to give the speech he had prepared.

Upstairs, they checked on Lilith, then went to their bedroom. As Davina started to shimmy out of her dress, James stopped her. “Leave it on.”

She smiled at him, pushed him backwards on to the bed and straddled him, then began kissing him, unbuttoning his uniform and working her way down his bare chest.

Davina watched the puppy sniff its way around the sitting room, hoping James was correct about all the training they went through before they were sold. Animals that failed the training process ended up being destroyed as quickly as those that didn't meet the guidelines of the breed.

Lilith, after finally telling them she preferred to be called Lily, watched her puppy, in between studying the clock, waiting for James to return and Davina's parents to arrive.

Anita walked into the room and held up an envelope. “Sweetie, you've now got your Green Card.” James mother, while still angry at him for throwing away his career, hadn't wanted him exiled from home and had used her status and her husband's to push the Ambassador to help along the girl's documentation. James had a Green Card as well, uninterested in becoming a naturalized citizen.

Lily tore it open, then disappointedly said, “But it's not green.”

Anita smiled. “They're no longer green anymore. They used to be printed on green paper. When is James supposed to be back? I want to know what my present is.”

“Give me the card, sweetie, so I can put it away with your other papers.”

“Okay.”

When Davina went to put it in the safe, Lily settled in front of the tree and studied the pile of packages that were for her. When she had arrived, there had been only eleven packages under the tree but now there were so many, she had lost count twice and the majority were for her.

Anita watched as Amadeus started sniffing the packages, then continued exploring the sitting room. He had arrived at midnight and finally calmed down after a few anti-stress chicken fillet snacks and chewing on a mild tranquilizer laced hunk of rawhide.

Lily had squealed when she awoke at six and Amadeus had been standing on top of her, the dog licking her face.

Lunch arrived via the dumbwaiter and soon they all sat down around the twelve person dining table.

As Zak served, Lily used a fork to poke at the deep fried sandwich. “Um, what is this?”

“A Monte Cristo,” Tony told her. “Jeez, Zak, trying to kill us all?”

“Piss off, most of the ingredients were marked 'touch and die.' Pass the maple syrup.”

Lily watched in surprise as he poured syrup on the ham, cheese, and turkey sandwich. She hesitated, then poured syrup on the plate to try dipping it in, then laboriously began to cut up the sandwich so she could eat as the adults talked about Anita's new car, a 2004 Enzo Ferrari she had bought from Nicolas Cage, though her daily driver was a Dodge Ram SRT 10 until James scraped enough together to buy it off her. She planned to get a Seven series BMW after that.

“What was it like meeting him?” Davina asked. That she had a crush on the man greatly annoyed James since, aside from 8mm, he had never really enjoyed any of the man's films.

“He was quite nice. His new wife is very pretty.”

“This is really good,” Lily piped up and they all looked to see her face was covered with syrup.

Anita laughed and wetted her napkin, then wiped the girl's face. “So messy.”

When James walked in, followed by his in-laws, Lily asked, “Can we open presents now?!”

James smiled. “Not yet. You two,” he motioned to Zak and Greg. “Come on.”

They stood and walked to help James with the product he had had to go pick up due to a strike.

Finally, they were all done eating and drinks were served, then they all began passing around presents, Amadeus more interested in tugging at the ends of the ribbon Davina had tied around his neck.

“There's a present for Amadeus,” she said excitedly, then ripped it open. When she showed the rhinestone encrusted collar, rhinestone encrusted leash, and rhinestone studded bowl to the dog, he sniffed them, then went back to tugging at the ribbon.

Davina squealed when she opened up two of her presents revealing matching earrings and a bracelet for her necklace as Valeria squealed over the diamond bracelet James and Davina had got her. She squealed even louder over the matching necklace from her husband as Anita thanked James and Davina for the rainbow tennis bracelet they had bought her.

When their meal arrived from one of the ground floor restaurants, James was quite chuffed to see her playing enthusiastically with the Robosapien and terrorizing Amadeus with it. “Put away the robot, love. It's time for supper.”

She put her new toys in her room and when she came back, found Davina putting dog food into the new bowl in the kitchen. As they ate dinner, James told her he would show her how to program it later. While he hadn't ever bought one, in his free time, he had studied them avidly for when he had free time to play around. He had wanted to build a soccer team of heavily modified ones.

When supper was over, Anita took Lily and her puppy down to the area behind the hotel set aside for pet owners to walk their dogs in air conditioned comfort instead of in the hundred degree plus weather.

When they returned to the apartment, they found Davina and James on the couch, snogging away until Lily giggled. When they heard her, Davina pulled away. “Do you two kiss all the time?” Lily asked.

“An awful lot,” he told her. “You want a kiss, too?”

Lily nodded shyly and he crossed the room, then picked her up and kissed her checks, forehead, nose, and eyelids making her giggle once more.

His phone rang and Davina grabbed it, looking at the caller identification. “Um, it's a London number, I think.”

“I do have many friends across the pond. Answer it.”

She did so and before she could speak, someone bellowed, “Jimmy, lad, it's Byron.”

“Uh, actually, this is his wife and he hates being called Jimmy.”

“Jimmy?” James said. “Gimme that. Byron?” He smiled widely and wandered off talking in Hindi.

“How many languages does daddy speak?” Lily asked as she undid the leash from her puppy.

“I have no clue. He's a polymath and polyglot.”

“Uh, what are those?”

“Polymath means he understands a lot of things as well as experts in the fields. Polyglot means he speaks many languages. Sweetie, your dad is a genius. Not just extremely good at something, but as in he could build a nuclear reactor out of household ingredients.”

“Really?” she asked, extremely impressed. “Can he fly a plane?”

“Yes, I can,” James said as he walked back into the room. “I learned how but never got a pilot's license. Don't need it. Sweetie, run along to your room. Amadeus looks bloody knackered.”

Lily picked up the puppy and kissed his head, then walked to her room.

James pulled his wife into a kiss when she was gone, then turned to Anita. “Take this down to Acacia, please. You can go for the day after that.”

“What's up?” Davina asked when she was gone.

“Jan five, I'm going on a short trip. You're to be fully in charge of the restaurant as of now.”

“Short trip? Where?”

“Byron needs a favor.” He kissed her forehead. “It's better you not know.”

She tried to press him but he wouldn't talk about it, instead walking to his office, then locking himself in.

When he came out, he only did so to kiss Lily goodnight, then went back into his office.

Much later, he came out as Zak and Tony returned from playing poker and told the two he was going on a short trip and Davina was in charge.

He joined Davina in bed, kissed her shoulder, then watched her fall asleep in the mirror.

“Who's Byron?” she asked sleepily.

“A friend from the Royal Marines. Sleep. You have a very busy day tomorrow.”

She rolled over and slowly stroked him, hoping sex would make him more talkative. It didn't and she just ended up feeling sore when he was much more animated than usual.

She was greatly annoyed but soon nodded off as James stood and padded to their window, looking out at Vegas, naked but not caring. The windows were reflective like all windows of the massive hotel, letting in a good deal of light but keeping light from exiting.

James shook Acacia's hand, then walked into the underground room just off the underground exit for the building. Inside, he nodded at Byron, his uncle Basil, and a former comrade from the Royal Marines Reserve named Scotte.

“Leftenant,” Byron said.

James came to attention before realizing it. “Sir.”

Basil spread out a large map on the table, then weighted down the corners with unopened soda cans. “This is where they're to be at. We'll do recon work, all day Jan four. Leftenant?”

James nodded as the next map was rolled out, a closer sat recon map, this time showing 1:1000 detail. A clear overlay showed the contour of the ground. There were lots of steep slopes of sand dunes. “Helicopter insertion is out, I assume. Halo jump?”

“Been too long since we all last did them. Too dangerous.”

“Hare and hound in the desert, then,” James said and they all nodded. “What weapons do we have?” James hoped they were ones he had used before.

“A2 SA80s, normal night vision gear, I got you the Kukri knife you prefer, and your uncle will be carrying the marksman rifle. SIG P226s for sidearms. We've got you desert gear in the truck. Ready to go shoot?”

James ignored him and continued studying the map, committing it to his eidetic memory. He began building the map into a three dimensional image and asked, “Teams of two or four man fire team?”

“Four man.”

“Can we recon via helicopter?”

“Yes,” his uncle told him.

James dialed a number. “Acacia? I need a helicopter and a pilot who makes a mime look talkative... Now. Thank you.”

James used an IR pen to draw a route on the map. “This is most likely the best way in. I can decide once we're in the air. It'll be an hour hour crawl or a four minute run. Let's go.”

Byron shoved the maps into the carrier, then set the self-destruct mechanism on it and tucked it away underneath steam pipes.

In the air, James used night vision goggles to study his proposed route at their highest magnification while the pilot swept over the area slowly, ostensibly heading for the company property at Red Rock.

On the trip back, James dropped into Scottish and told them about the updated entrance plan.

Back in the hotel, they went down and got into two rented Hummers. James drove one, his uncle driving the second and following.

In the desert, Basil set up a handful of cans as his former comrade, a former Royal Marine Staff Sergeant named Scotte, handed out the weapons.

James strapped the SIG's holster to his thigh, then hefted the rifle, slid the four magazines into his belt, and moved slightly down. They had even acquired the conversion kit to make it left handed for him. “I hate this weapon,” James muttered. He had had one literally fall apart on him during his service.

“We all know how you feel about the weapon,” his uncle said. “Firing line; ready?”

James brought the weapon to his shoulder and said, “Yes, sir.” The others echoed and then; “Fire” came from his uncle.

James went through the first two magazines in single shot, then switched over to sustained fire.

Like the others, when they were done, they checked their targets. The head and chest of James's, like the others' targets, were decimated.

“At least you still know how to fire. I would have sworn being a prissy little cook would have made your hands too soft,” his uncle teased.

They began policing their brass then loaded the rifles back into the truck and went to the handguns. This time, James stuck to double taps to the chest and a head shot.

They policed brass again, counting them once more and made ready to leave. While they couldn't retrieve the rounds, hopefully they had all malformed when hitting hard packed sand or rock.

When they returned to the hotel, the group ended up back in the steam tunnel, James showing them the modified entrance plan. He had the least experience and had only done two missions in his operational life, but he also had the most analytical mind and his superior officer had almost begged him to go regular.

“We have suppressors,” his uncle said as he put his cell phone down.

“Good,” Byron said. “Better accuracy.” The myth that a suppressor made a weapon unreliable was just that, a myth. A well designed suppressor gave a weapon a longer barrel, increasing accuracy. Since they used subsonic ammunition, they would be quiet enough during the assault.

“Even out the weight of those shite rifles as well. Why not go tonight?” James asked. “It's been dark for six hours now. Insertion would be oh dark hundred. Best time.”

“I had planned to wait. Make them more assured, less aware,” Byron replied.

James shook his head. “Are we sure they're staying there long enough? We have tactical advantage. Better weaponry, better discipline, we know this area. There are ten of them, half will most likely be asleep. Where they're bunkered, we can take down the guards and as long as they don't get an alert off, we'll be in control. Basil can take out one or two as we move in, then he can do his hare impersonation to catch up.”

The others chuckled. His 'Hare Impersonation' was a reference to an event when the man had been a boy of seven. One of the hunting puppies on the estate had chased him down due to rabbit's blood on the boy's jumper. Basil had run so fast, he had actually outrun the dog and made it up a tree before his minder was able to get a groom to call off the dog. The story was often rehashed at gatherings his uncle attended.

“Vehicles aren't ready yet, either.” Byron told him what he had planned to use to insert.

“Oh. All right, then. I'm going to bed.”

James headed for the exit to the elevators as Byron and the rest cleaned up the planning area, then headed for their own rooms in the hotel.

When James arrived in his apartment and walked into his bedroom, he found Lily and Davina fast asleep in the bed. Davina was sprawled on two-thirds of the bed, so he leaned over and whispered, “Wake up, love,” kissing her neck.

“D-daddy?” she murmured as she swum back into wakefulness.

“Okay, that's kind of weird,” he told her.

When she was awake, she sniffed. “You smell like my dad does after a SWAT thing.”

“Cordite. Went shooting with them. Scootch over, I'll be back after I shower. Why is she there?”

“She was crying about her mom so I let her sleep here.”

When he returned, Davina was sitting up, waiting for him. “Why did you go shooting? I didn't even know you had a gun. What are you doing?”

“Male bonding. I don't, though I'm thinking about changing that. I'm about to sleep.”

She scowled. He knew she didn't mean at that moment. “Sleep on the couch.”

“Fine.” James grabbed his pillow and left the room. After a moment, he poked his head into the room. “Love you,” then disappeared.

“Aghh,” she growled. Now she wanted to go after him.

James studied the four All Terrain Vehicles with their hastily painted sand camo pattern over the chrome and plastic. “Stole them, didn't you?” he asked.

“Well I sure wasn't going to buy them since they'll most likely be left behind.” Byron pointed out where the flip-up self-destruct units were. If one vehicle's unit was activated, all four were. The charge lights on the handlebars were blackened out but came on when the timers were set. Once they were active, in fifty minutes, the units would be pieces all over the desert.

James nodded and put the tarp back over the units. Byron hopped into the Hummer and headed out to stage the vehicles as Basil and Scotte continued speaking with the fifth person of the team, a helicopter pilot that had been in the SAS with Basil. He was their exit strategy and would be idling a mile away, waiting for contact.

James turned to the mirror and checked himself over. Desert camo BDUs with his personal armor and Kukri knife strapped to his chest over his all dyed tan urban camo Interceptor Body Armor. James slid his sidearm in, then staged four reloads. If he needed more than fifty rounds, he was fucked. Another hundred fifty rounds for the rifle on the backside of his armor.

“Time to go, ladies,” Basil said as the helicopter pilot headed for his helicopter on the roof. The helicopter would be staged fifty miles north of where they were.

James pulled his balaclava on, leaving it like a skullcap and went out first, attaching his rifle to the sling.

Inside the Hummer, he pulled the fuses for the lights, then started the vehicle and pulled his nightvision unit on.

As he drove slowly, Basil bemoaned his inability to smoke as Scotte closed his eyes and fell asleep.

“James?”

“Yes?”

“Are you going to be able to kill?”

He looked over out at his uncle. “I have before, now haven't I?”

Basil looked away from his nephew and out at the desert. “That was different. Personal. You rightfully executed a man who had wronged people you knew, killed your best friend after repeatedly raping her.”

James' hands were so tight on the wheel, both heard the material crack. “It wasn't an execution. It was a pleasure.”

He pushed Annissa and the past out of his mind, then pulled the vehicle into the cave near their staging point, right behind the first. The satellite tracking units of the rented Hummers had been removed and placed under other peoples' cars.

Scotte snapped awake, then began attaching the explosives to the mouth of the cave as James filled the vehicles with Willy Pete charges.

Basil activated the charges as they began jogging, pulling their balaclavas into place.

Byron tucked his empty candy bar wrapper into his pocket. “Ready, ladies?”

The near silent electric all terrain vehicles carried them the forty miles to the secondary insertion point. As they did one last radio check, the four charged their weapons, safed them, then headed in, using the massive natural cover as they moved in, rifles at the ready.

Byron held up a hand. They all came to a stop, hitting the ground, then Byron said, “Radio traffic. They're using unencrypted gear. Checks. Stand by.” His radio had been set to autoscan.

The group ended up lying on the ground, waiting for almost an hour.

“Twenty minute checks. James, Point.”

When they reached the sniper point forty minutes later, the three continued on as Basil settled in, scanning the building with his thermal infrared scope, updating them constantly with the internal and external people.

When James was aiming at the farthest target, he saw the closest drop almost before Byron finished saying, “Take 'em down.” He pulled the trigger on his own just as he heard the muffled report of the sniper rifle, sounding more like a vehicle in the distance backfiring. Scotte and Basil took down their targets before the report passed.

As James walked past the first target, he kicked the weapon away, even though the man's head was missing half the skull.

“One to your left, James,” they heard.

James brought his weapon up, caught the glow of a cigarette, then fired two rounds to the thickest darkness and a third to the cigarette.

He heard the rattling of the man's death and found he didn't feel anything. James smiled. He was still the man he had been before he had met Davina.

“Two more on the opposite side, three behind the building, and three inside, looks like asleep still.”

James and Scotte went right while Byron went left as another man went down by a long range round.

“Incoming,” Basil said, meaning he was heading in, the rifle and shells he had used buried in a box filled with more Willy Pete grenades on remote timers.

James and Scotte filled a man's chest with rounds. As James smoothly reloaded, Scotte took out the second man. They heard two more plops, then a yell. “Shite,” James murmured and took to a run.

He hit the ground, rolling as Scotte popped out.

The two took out the last three exterior threats with sustained fire, walking their fire into the targets. They reloaded in sequence.

In teams of two, Scotte and James went in on the right as Byron and Basil went in on the left.

One of the targets was awake and armed. He took a shot and James slipped backwards into the wall as Scotte put half a clip into the target. Byron and Basil took out the other two.

“James, laddie, you all right?” his uncle asked.

James nodded. “Yeah. Armor caught it. Just hurts like fuck. Great, now Davina is gonna wonder how that happened.”

The others laughed as they cleared the building, then began pulling the bodies into the building. From there, they began searching the crates in the building.

“Here they are.” James opened the crate fully and looked down at the Scottish Crown Jewels. The rest of the crates had drug money in them and weapons.

Basil pulled a card from his pocket and checked the list to what was in the box, then nodded. “We got 'em Byron, prep your backpack.”

Scotte helped Byron pull off the backpack and revealed a backpack thermobaric explosive, 'borrowed' from a British Army armory and smuggled into San Francisco by Embassy personnel.

Basil called the helicopter in as they left the building, Byron staying behind to charge the device.

When they were in the air, Byron ordered the pilot to take them to the original Insertion Point.

There, they stripped down, put the weapons and clothing into a box and stuck it in the cave, then changed into civvies and made their way back to the helicopter. In the air, Byron handed over the explosives remote to James. “You get the honor.”

James flipped the cover, then hit the charging switch and pressed the two triggers right afterwards.

They watched the cave opening disappear in a gout of dust as the ATVs exploded in a gout of white flame before an even greater burst turned the building into little more than dust.

Fingerprints, DNA, any physical evidence were now slag. At most, they would find out the weapons were military issue, something easily stolen which the weapons had been, by 'IRA terrorists' a few weeks before.

When they arrived at the hotel, Basil pulled his nephew into a hug, then pushed him towards the doors of the hotel. “I'll be back in a few weeks. Expect a letter, soon.” To pay James for his part, they would launder the money through the Scottish government, then give him his share of the money recovered and his pay from the government as a bequest from Basil. Taxes would still be higher than just having cash sitting around but the money would be clean and legal.

Money laundering was obviously illegal but many governments did it, to hide where there profits from gun-running and other things came from and paying mercenaries always became tricky, even mercenaries acting under official cover as active service personnel.

When he arrived upstairs, he found Amadeus standing at the door. “You need to go, don't you? Damnit.”

He put the leash on the dog, then took him down to the ground floor and waited as it did its business.

Back in the apartment, James headed to his bedroom as the puppy headed for Lily's room.

When he awoke, Davina was straddling his stomach. “What's this?” she asked, pointing at the rapidly forming bruise on his right pectoral.

“A hooker didn't like my pooing on her face idea?”

Davina blinked, then laughed. “Okay, that was funny. Where were you?”

“Guy stuff. In the desert. You know, survival training. Male bonding. Peeing on each other. Eating animals raw. Stuff like that.”

“Peeing?”

“We did that during basic. To keep warm in bollock shrinking weather.”

“Okay, I don't think I ever want to know about your military training again. When did you get in?”

He looked at the clock. “Four hours ago.”

“Oh, I'll let you sleep then wake you before lunch customers.”

Davina kissed his chin, then headed off.

“Where's daddy?” Lily asked Davina as she watched her make breakfast. “Only Zak was down in the kitchen.” James had put them all on a rotating list for accepting orders.

“Still sleeping. He only got in a few hours ago. I'll drive you to school today.” She had begun a few days before and Davina or James drove, Anita picking her up in the afternoon until the bus schedule routing was fixed to pick her up.

“Okay,” she said and began checking her uniform in the reflection of the refrigerator. Lily had been accepted to an all girl school that ran up to eighth grade.

Davina grabbed her key ring, called down to have the car brought around, and the two took the elevator down to the ground floor, Lily blowing her hair out of her face. “Are you sure you don't want your bangs cut?” Davina asked.

“No, I wanna grow them out,” she told her stepmother. “I want curly hair like yours.”

“It's a loose perm, actually.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised. “I thought perms always looked like eighties movies.”

“Bad ones do.”

As they walked through the foyer of the hotel, Lily asked, “How come you and daddy only have one day off a week?”

“Actually, until a few months ago, we didn't have any days off except when the holidays rolled around. Your father was getting burnt out, and annoyed at me constantly so we decided to take Mondays off while I end up visiting my family or friends one day a month or so. Gives us a chance apart from each other without us driving each other bloody nuts always together.”

Lily giggled as the valet held the door open for her.

Davina set the transmission to Sport as Lily buckled in. “Would daddy let me drive this car when I can get my license?”

“Please, he doesn't even know I'm driving it now.”

Lily giggled as Davina pulled away. “You stole daddy's car?”

“Stole is such a harsh word. I think of it as asserting my wifely rights on joint property. Even if it is just in his name.”

She giggled again as Davina shifted, overtaking a bus and sliding in front of it.

James sat up and stretched then looked at the time. Eight. Less than an hour more of sleep. Sighing, he went to shave and shower.

As he looked in the mirror, he decided to grow out his beard and slowly shaved, leaving stubble where he wanted it to grow out.

He went down to the restaurant and found Zak sitting in the office, reading a webcomic. “You're all done in there?”

“Shipments all came in at oh seven. Just finished a few minutes ago.”

James nodded and went to make himself breakfast.

When he finished cleaning up his mess, he went back to his office and picked up the phone, then hit the speed dial. “Isamu? Hey, Its been a while since I drew a blade. Up for a naked blade fight?”

Zak looked up at that.

“All right, I'll be there in... forty minutes? That work for you? See you then.”

James set the phone down, then took a Katana down from the wall.

“Dude, are you fighting with that?”

“Yes.”

“Can I come?”

James nodded as he checked the blade over. Flawlessly sharp.

He picked up the phone again, then dialed the valet service. “Hey, it's James Threeblade, I need my car brought around... She did what? Fine, bring her car around.” He hung up and scowled. “Davina took my car to drop Lily off.”

Zak grinned at James' expression, then shut off the computer and followed him up to the apartment.

In the valet area, James adjusted Davina's seat and resisted the urge to break it so it was stuck at the optimal arrangement for his height.

“This car is pretty awesome,” Zak said.

“I thought she took you for a ride a week ago,” James asked as he flitted in and out of traffic. “To pick up the Morels.”

Zak bounced the sword on the carpet. “Nah. We took my car. It was too nice that day to not take my convertible. Plus, more space”

When they arrived, Zak blinked. “Where did this come from?” The building they were parked in front of was an immense Japanese style temple.

“It's been here forever. Well, twenty years. My Sensei in London's son owns it and is the master. C'mon.”

Inside, James kicked his shoes off and pulled on Jika-tabi as Zak looked around. “Wow. Nice place. It looks like the temples in movies do.”

“It should. It's been in enough of them,” a voice said from behind them.

“Zak, this is Isamu, my Sensei's son. On the day he attained Jūdan, his father shoved me onto the mat. Guess what happened?”

Isamu sighed as he shook his head. “Must you retell this again?”

“You can tell it, then.”

“No thanks.”

“To shorten a funny story, I utterly embarrassed him in front of his girlfriend by downing him four times.”

Zak smirked at Isamu's expression. “It's nice to meet you. How long ago was this?”

James grinned as Isamu sighed again and told Zak, “He was eleven.”

James grin turned to an evil smirk as he drew his blade from the Saya. “Ready?”

“That blade is a thing of beauty,” Isamu said.

James nodded. “Yes, yes. Techno-Wootz steel. Hand forged. Shihozume style blade. Ironwood saya and grip with eel skin. Where's your blade?”

Isamu walked to the wall and studied the dozens of swords on the wall. He pulled one from the wall and tossed the saya away.

Zak leaned against a wall as the older Asian man charged James. He watched as the two battered and screamed, literally trying to kill each other. The twos skills were so well matched, Zak became even more interested as James' blade became lodged in a pillar.

James tugged and scowled, then ran to the nearby wall and pulled two blades off, swinging the sayas off with violent swings after unlocking them with his thumbs.

“Whoo! Go, Anakin!” Zak called out.

“Shut up and carefully remove that blade. It cost over ten thousand dollars.”

Zak blinked and went to get the blade as James went on the offensive. Zak carefully pried it out. He had enough experience extricating blades from bone and wood that he removed it easily enough, though he understood why James gave up since it took Zak nearly a minute.

When he turned back to the match, James had eschewed a blade and was pressing his attack until there was; “Sonnuvabitch!” and Isamu backing away. He brought his hand away from his arm, revealing a bright patch of blood and sliced through sleeve.

“Shite, sorry, I was aiming for just the shirt. Let me see,” James said as he dropped the blade.

He examined the gash, ripped the sleeve off, then wrapped it around the arm. “It'll be fine. Just slap some gauze on it, maybe add some antibacterial just in case. If it had been my blade, I'd say you'd be fine but with that one, I don't know how clean it is.”

“It'll be fine without. Your control is as good as ever. I moved too far to the left,” Isamu told him.

“Come by the restaurant. I'll make you lunch to make up for it.”

Isamu smiled and bowed, then James bowed back. “I'll see you for lunch, then. To admit a fault is the beginning of righteousness.” James had teased him with that statement every day for almost a year when James was twelve.

“My only fault is having no faults.”

They all laughed as they walked to the gates of the temple, James examining his blade. The three sat as Isamu and James maintained their blades, telling Zak about their training in London.

Davina walked in to the apartment and called out, “Anyone here?”

She pouted, dropped onto the couch in a sulk, then perked up. Rushing into their bedroom, she opened her drawer under their bed, then pulled out her stash of Yaoi comics. She stripped off her dress and bra, then settled back and picked up her copy of Ocean's Elven story, a blend of Ocean Eleven and Elven characters. “Oooh,” she murmured. “Danny.”

Davina was pulling her thong to the side as she started shivering when the air conditioner turned on then she heard the front door open and her husband call out, “Davina!”

She shoved the comics away, even though he knew she had them, and pulled her dress back on as she looked at the time. Two hours before she had to be at work.

“Yes?” she asked as she walked into the sitting room.

James crossed the room towards her. “Hey.” He walked her backwards into their room as Zak headed down to the restaurant.

No one noticed the muted news story about a mushroom cloud in the desert the night before.

Lily picked up her puppy as the veterinarian said, “He's going to be just fine now. Just make sure you keep the cone on his head for the next week at least, all right?”

“Yes. Thank you, Doctor Strangelove.”

He sighed. “It's just Love.”

“But-but daddy called you Strangelove.”

“It's a joke. Strangelove is the name of a doctor in a movie.”

“Oh. What's it about?”

“It's a dark comedy. You should ask your dad.”

Anita paid the receptionist, then walked the girl out, leading the puppy on his leash. “Remember, Amadeus, don't try to bite the stitches.”

Amadeus barked.

In Anita's truck, Lily hugged her squirming puppy tightly and watched Anita shifting. “How come you take off your shoes when you drive?”

“Heels and clutches don't mix,” Anita told her. “Your dad said we could stop for a snack. Ice cream or Fatburger?”

“Fatburger. I want a grilled chicken burger and Amadeus wants the onion rings.”

In the hamburger joint, the two females each had half of the burger as Amadeus happily ate the rings and the two shared the chocolate shake.

When they arrived back at the apartment, Anita went down to the restaurant to give James the receipts as Lily went to her room to change.

“Can I add it to your paycheck? I'm kind of busy here,” James said, his hands buried deep in the body cavity of an Emu, deboning it.

“No problem. Is that for dinner?”

“Kind of tomorrow's, maybe. I got inspired so I decided to make an emu stuffed with a bustard, a turkey, a goose, a pheasant, a chicken, a duck, a guinea fowl, a teal, a woodcock, a partridge, a plover, a lapwing, a quail, a thrush, a lark, an ortolan and a chick. Eighteen birds. World record. That's why he's here.”

He nodded his head towards the man from Guinness Book of World Records, flirting with Tony at the Chef's Table. Many of the birds were still alive in the break room and they heard the squawking as commis prepared to kill them.

Davina walked past Anita and stopped to whisper in her ear, then walked off, both women laughing and looking at James.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Anita said. “I'm going to go see if Lily needs help with her homework.” Her contract had been changed and she was now also a part-time tutor, helping Lily acclimate to America better.

Davina kissed her husband's cheek, then asked, “So, what do you plan to do next?”

“Most stuffed mammals. It'll rock. Back to work, wench.”

She kicked his calf and headed back to her station.

When Lily came down for dinner during the beginning of the dinner service, she sat down at the Chef's Table and was soon joined by Anita.

As the two ate, James and Davina took a few moments to sit with them, then Lily went to the office to watch cartoons while Anita worked.

Lily knelt on her father's lap, then wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. 'Night, daddy.”

He kissed her cheek, then swatted her bottom as she ran off the bed, Amadeus right behind her.

When she was gone, Davina straddled his lap, wrapping her arms around him as she ground herself against him. “Hi, 'daddy.' ”

“That's just all kinds of creepy. You're not wearing underwear, are you?”

She smiled impishly. “Why don't you try and find out?”

“I can't believe how much cake and soda those kids put away. Or you. How many slices did you have?”

She grinned. “Four. It was really good. No wonder Zak gets so many ladies when he shows up with a dessert at their table.” Zak had made a four layer cake that had been in the shape of her puppy and it had been a much oohed over item by the girls she went to school with and her friends from back home who had been able to fly over.

“Hmmm, remind me to keep him away from you, then.”

Davina laughed and pushed him in the shoulder. “Jerk. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Speaking of dessert, let's go to bed for mine.”

Davina slid off his lap and went to the kitchen, then came back, carrying peach sirup and a freshly charged whipped cream container.

Lily lifted up her skirt and said, “Look, daddy.”

He turned his head, then looked away. “What are you doing?”

“Look, I hurt myself.”

He turned back and saw her pointing to a long scratch on the inside of her thigh. Furrowing his brow, he asked, “How did that happen?”

“I was sitting on the chair in my room, then slid off and it bit me.”

“There's some cream in your bathroom for cuts.”

“Kiss it,” she demanded, her voice pouty.

He hesitated, then did so. Lily walked away to find the cream as her father walked into her room. He found that her Mirra Task Chair had a sharp little bit sticking up. He picked up the handset in her room and dialed the maintenance crew. “Hi, yeah, it's Threeblade in Apartment fifty-one oh four. Yeah, my daughter's chair has something sticking out of it. Can you send someone up with some sandpaper and a buffer? Thanks.” He set the phone down and picked up Amadeus. “Hey, little shite.” The dog licked his face as he walked back into the sitting room to find Lily sitting on the couch, applying two plasters over her scrape.

He sat down and put Amadeus on the floor. “Maintenance is coming up to sand down the poky bit.” It would cost him for the time since the chair wasn't part of the furnishings that had been provided as he hadn't paid to have the place furnished.

“ 'Kay, daddy. What are you reading?”

He picked up the book and showed her the cover. “A biography of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.”

She furrowed her brow, then decided that sounded boring and went to play the new game James had bought her on the Wii.

When she was gone, James dialed Darryl's number. “Hey, busy? Ah, good. Quick question? Did Davina ever have you kiss a scrape or cut like... inches from her vagina when she was little? Yeah..., she did. So that's not creepy? Ah, good. Oh, please, I'm a GREAT dad. I'm just new at the 'what could constitute sexual molestation' bits. I do know what they are on your daughter, though.” He chuckled when Darryl hung up on him.

James settled back to continue reading as he waited for Davina and Anita to return.

James yawned as he looked in on Lily, then made his way back to his bedroom, hoping Davina wasn't as tired as she had said when they closed.

He found his wife walking out of their bathroom, wearing one of his shirts. His initial disappointment disappeared when she smiled at him and dropped it to the floor, revealing the little white nightie she had gotten for their honeymoon and wore when she was in an especially amorous mood.

When James awoke the next morning, Lily was sitting on Davina's side of the bed, clutching Amadeus in her arms and watching him intently. When he turned his head to her, she asked, “Did you know you say bad words in your sleep?”

He blinked away the gunk in his eyes. “It's possible. What are you doing here?”

“Boiler broken at school. They said it was too hot for classes. Davina said you and Uncle Zak would let me help you make the marzipan house.” He and Zak were entered in a candy making contest and were doing two entries, one for traditional styles and the second for abstract design.

“All right, but first, you gotta go put on your whites.”

She cheered and rushed off, leaving Amadeus on the bed. He sniffed the bed, then settled down and promptly fell asleep. James sighed and went to shower and dress.

When he came back into the bedroom, Lily was affixing the chef hat Davina made for the dog.

“He can't come into the kitchen.”

Lily nodded. “I know.”

“Take him down to use the facilities, then I'll meet you in the kitchen.”

In the sitting room, he found Zak studying a recent edition of Confectioner and sipping at a bottle of coffee from Japan. “How can you drink that shite?”

“Pretty easily. I like it.”

“I should fire your ass for your horrid taste in drinks.”

“You're the fucker who likes Haggis. You can't say shit about anyone else's food choices.”

“Ready to get to work?”

“Yes, so I had this idea. For the traditional. We do a single room with only two walls and an angled roof, like that doll tableau Tony has in his room.” Tony had a huge investment in ball jointed dolls from Japan and wanted to go back for mostly that reason; ease of collecting.

“With a candy doll as well?”

“With two. Having tea. In a tea ceremony. In sugar kimonos. Tony will drool.”

James laughed as the two headed down to the kitchen.

A few minutes later as they made sure they had everything they needed, Anita and Lily walked into the kitchen, Lily wearing a black chef's jacket with the Threeblade logo on it and a pair of all black pants. Instead of a toque blanche and scarf, she had a pink bandanna tied around her neck and a pair of pink chopsticks holding her hair in a bun, then a hairnet.

As Lily watched with fascination as Zak practiced making quick set molds—they weren't allowed to bring any in—James explained his idea for the abstract: a tornado and explosions of colored pulled and blown sugar on a base of pastillage.

“How can I help?” Lily asked when her father stopped speaking.

Both looked down, having forgotten she was there.

“Oh. Um, how about you mix food colors for us. We need these shades.” Zak handed her a printed out sheet of colors and their collection of dyes. “Just mix small amounts in these cups up to that line in the middle, then add a drop to sugar and see if they match when its dried. When they do so, put the lid on the cups and label them with the pen.”

“Okay,” she said happily and sat down to start the long task that neither of the adults had wanted to do but were sure they would end up redoing later when she was gone.

“Oh, damn. We need to do a new sugar sculpture of the hotel. The old one is starting to show its age,” James reminded Zak. They had made it as practice and Acacia had been up checking on things as they had finished it. He had paid them two thousand to put it up on exhibit. It had cost more than that but it also had drawn business and helped establish them as one of the restaurants worth blowing a grand on a meal in.

“Cool, we'll do it today. After the practice rounds.” They were going to spend the next month plus practicing, making their designs over and over until they were flawless and came to them like picking up something and putting it in it's mouth came to a baby.

Lily yawned tiredly as she watched her father finish the rainbow fountain. A small pack of LEDs pushed light up through the sugar, dancing as they cycled through a randomizer upping and lowering voltage. “It's very pretty.”

James nodded absentmindedly, then looked at the time. “Go to bed.”

She pouted, then slid off her stool and waited next to him. He leaned down and kissed her temple. Straightening, he continued affixing the last bits of sugar and stood back. It looked as if a fountain of light and fireworks were exploding above a city, exactly what it was supposed to look like.

Zak took a sip of his scotch. “I think it's perfect.”

“Well, close enough. I'm going to bed. Haven't gotten any in almost three weeks.”

Zak smirked as he put the piece in the fridge. They would break it down and use some of the shards as decorations in desserts. The rest would go into their composting bin.

Lily looked around, watching all the bakers and chefs in whites, preparing their stations, intent on their own work. “They don't sell snacks?”

Davina smirked. “No. I'm sure your dad could give you something.”

She shook her head. “I want some water.”

“Here,” Davina said. “It's actually peacotum flavored, but it's mostly water.” She made her own sports drinks.

“ 'Kay,” Lily replied, sitting back and twisting the cap off. She took a drink, then asked, “How come they only have two hours?”

“Skill test, as well. Anyone can do something amazing if they have a month. It takes talent to do something in a rush.”

“Oh.”

She set the bottle down and knelt on the chair, looking at the people behind them. She and Davina wore matching outfits; black Threeblade chef jackets and black pleated skirts, both with white trim, though Lily only had tights on while Davina had on a silk garter belt and vintage stockings that were older than two of her grandparents. Their shoes matched as well, though Lily had a one inch heel compared to Davina's four point five inch heel.

Davina had promised James the fuck of his life after the show. And if they won both, the orgy of his life with Anita AND her best friend, Cameron who had given birth eleven months before and was still lactating and horny as she had ever been.

“You look really pretty today, Davina,” Lily told her when she sat back down.

“Thank you. You look pretty, too.”

Lily smiled, then smoothed out her skirt. “How much longer until they start?”

Davina took James' Blancpain watch out of her purse. “Fifteen minutes.” She put the watch back in. If she lost it, she was quite sure her husband would kill her. James' grandfather had given it to him a few months before he had passed away.

TBC

PS: That's either an admission the Burning Crusade stopped me from working on writing or it means to be continued. Decide on your own.