Portia shivers once she mounts the stairs, stepping out of the subway station. The cold wind of December hits her face, forcing Portia to walk with her head down. She stuffs both hands inside her coat pockets and quickly makes her way along the pavement to her patisserie.
The tiny bell placed on top of the front door clinks when she pushes the door and steps into the French-styled patisserie, dominated with white and pastel purple color. She breathes out in joy feeling the warmth inside the store starts to spread around her body. “Hey, Kali,” she greets one of her staffs who is arranging a set of cupcakes.
“Hey, Boss,” the brunette girl replies. “How was your lunch? Your mom’s doing well?”
Portia takes off her thick coat and shawl and hangs it inside a big locker. “Yeah, my mom is fine. Michael couldn’t stay that long because there’s an emergency at the hospital.” She stops for a minute, tilting her head after noticing what song is playing. “Jon Robyns. Left Behind. Spring Awakening,” she says, referring to the singer, the song title, and the musical show that is very familiar to her.
Kali also likes Broadway, just like Portia, and always puts on the songs inside the store. “Jon’s voice is so perfect for this weather, isn’t it?” Kali asks with a wide smile.
Portia mumbles an agreement. “This song makes me feel better.” And then she looks around, searching for her two other staffs. “By the way, where are Ben and Seb?”
“Back in the kitchen,” Kali says. “There was a woman who bought lots of our tartlets, so now they have to make some more.”
Portia nid-nods her head. “Oh, okay. I’ll go to the kitchen as well and ask Ben to help you out here if you need him.” She stays on her spot for a minute, letting Jon’s voice soothes her down, and she sighs happily. “One of my all-time favorites. Nothing can ruin my mood today.”
Maybe she draws too quickly of a conclusion. Because life doesn’t always work the way we want it to.
Portia should know better.
**********
Portia is giving some last finishing touch on her tartlets when Benjamin shows up and says, “Boss, a call for you.”
Benjamin Font is a young 19-year-old guy who’s rather quiet and reserved. He has never gone study in a culinary school, but he loves baking and it is his dream to be a pâtissier in a five-star hotel or a Michelin-starred restaurant. He never gives up on sending out job applications but up until now he still hasn’t received any positive response yet. Portia can see the talent in Ben, and that’s why she decided to hire him, so that he’ll be able to have more experience.
Portia walks up towards the telephone that’s attached to the kitchen wall and grabs the receiver. “Hello?”
“Hello? Portia?”
“Yes, it’s me,” Portia says while trying to remember who the woman on the other end is because her voice is quite familiar.
“It’s Betty DeGeneres. I hope you still remember me.”
Portia’s eyes widen. But she keeps her cool and says, “Oh, yes. Absolutely, Betty. How are you?”
Betty laughs. “I’m good, kid. Thanks. I called your phone earlier but you didn’t pick up.”
Portia looks at the door of her tiny office mechanically. “I’m sorry. I left my phone inside my office, so….”
“Oh, it’s alright. It’s alright,” Betty interrupts quickly.
“I just wanted to tell you that your mom and I are gonna have dinner together tonight.”
Portia blinks, not comprehending why Betty DeGeneres should give her this information. “I’m sure my mom is looking forward to it,” she finally says.
“And I want your brother and you to come as well,” Betty goes on. “I’m going to go with my daughter too, so you guys can hang out with each other instead of being bored by old people like us.”
Portia glowers at the telephone. “I’m sorry, Betty. I…. I actually already have plans tonight,” she says, shutting her eyes and biting her lip. She hates lying, especially to people who are much older than her. It makes her feel bad about herself.
“Oh? Well, that’s a shame.” Betty sounds like she’s completely crushed, making Portia feel even worse.
“Perhaps Michael can go with you guys,” Portia says again quickly. But then she remembers what her brother told her about his packed-up schedule at the hospital. “But it seems like it won’t be very likely as well,” she continues apologetically.
“Okay, it’s fine, then,” says Betty. “I’m sure you’re very busy right now. I’m so sorry to bother you.”
“Oh, no problem, Betty. You didn’t bother me,” Portia responds quickly out of courtesy. “I’m not busy at all, really.”
“Really?” suddenly Betty sounds cheerful again. “It means that you can come and have tea with us right now?”
Portia blinks in surprise. “Wh—“
“I’ll pick up your mother on my way and Ellen will pick you up at your store in about an hour. Okay? See you soon, Portia.”
“Wait a second, Betty. Bett— Hello?”
Portia stares vacantly at the receiver in her hand. What? What the hell was that? That old woman set her up! She can’t believe this. Portia groans and squeezes the receiver furiously, tempted to throw it across the room. But she forces herself to put it back on the telephone, trying to gain her composure. She puts her forehead against the wall next to the telephone and lets out a half-sob.
“Boss, you alright?”
With her forehead still glued to the wall, Portia turns her head to see Seb watching her with a quizzical look.
Sebastian has been working at A Piece of Cake since the very first day and he’s the manager of the store. He’s 45 years old, with a bulky body, and no hair whatsoever on his head. From his outer appearance, he is more suited to be a bouncer at a nightclub than a manager of a patisserie, but he is highly trustworthy and very reliable. He always makes sure that the administrative activity of the store runs smoothly so Portia can focus on the creative side.
“Perfect,” Portia mumbles with no energy. “Everything is perfect.”
Seb rises his left eyebrow, unconvinced, but decided not to say anything further. “Look, Boss,” he starts. “We’re about to start decorating the store. You wanna give us a hand?”
Portia finally pulls away from the cold embrace of the wall and stands up straight. Decorating the store, especially during Christmas season, has always been their tradition, and Portia is not going to let something so insignificant as Ellen DeGeneres to ruin it all. Besides, there are possibilities that the woman will not come after all. Yes, that’s certainly what Portia is hoping for.
“Of course,” she says. “I’ll get the boxes out.”
She feels like it’d be far better to keep herself busy rather than spending the time feeling sorry about the fact that her wildest dreams of murdering Ellen DeGeneres will never ever come true.
***********
Portia is busy disentangling the jumbled up Christmas lights in the kitchen when Kali shows up and says, “Boss, someone’s looking for you.”
Portia puts the disentangled lights around her neck and keeps working on the rest. “Who is it?” she asks indifferently.
“Name is Ellen DeGeneres, the woman said.”
Portia’s hands stop moving. Then she takes a deep breath and grumbles, “Oh, the end of the world is near. Alright.”
Portia turns around and quickly marches to the front of her store. The decorating activity has been paused for a while because some customers are there. Portia’s gaze quickly lands on a figure of a woman with short blonde hair who’s standing with her back to Portia. Portia stops for a while, grits her teeth, then starts to walk again towards the woman.
As if she can feel Portia’s coming, Ellen DeGeneres turns around abruptly before Portia reaches her. Her eyebrows shot up seeing Portia. After Portia finally stops in front of her, Ellen smiles and says right away, “You can be a really good Christmas tree.”
Portia frowns, looks down following Ellen’s eyes and gasps seeing the Christmas lights that are still there, circling her neck, shoulders, and her torso. Her face reddens but she forces herself not to tear the lights away from her in one jerk. Instead, she looks up defiantly at Ellen’s face and calmly says, “As you can see, I’m very busy. What if you tell me where are we going to meet our moms, and then I’ll go there as soon as I finish my job.”
Obviously, Portia doesn’t have the tiniest intention of catching up with Ellen, but that woman doesn’t need to know that.
Ellen shrugs. “Well, finish it, then. I don’t mind.” She says and throws a glance over a polkadot couch at one corner of the room. “I’ll wait for you right there.”
Portia rolls her eyes. She starts to speak but nothing comes out of her mouth.
“My mom instructed me to go here and pick you up, so I don’t have enough guts to show up in front of her without you,” Ellen continues, still with that annoying smile on her face.
Then she goes straight to the aforementioned couch and sits comfortably there. Portia stays where she is and glares at Ellen with revengeful eyes. Right now there are two things that she can possibly do. One, she can tell Ellen DeGeneres that she is not going anywhere with her. Two, she can beat the shit out of that woman’s head with one of her trays and tell her that she is not going anywhere with her.
But of course, Portia knows better. She has to think of her mom. She can’t possibly humiliate her mom in front of Betty DeGeneres. They have been good friends for a long time and Portia doesn’t want to ruin that friendship. She sighs in annoyance and massages her temple.
“Boss, is that person bothering you?” Seb suddenly appears in front of Portia. “You want me to kick her out?”
The picture of seeing Ellen DeGeneres being kicked out from the store by Seb is highly tempting, but Portia shakes her head. “No,” she says. She takes off the cords of the Christmas lights from her body and drops it on Seb’s hands. “Please go on with the decoration once the customers leave. I have to go. It’s not going to take long.”
Portia walks towards the counter, pulls out her coat, shawl, and purse from the locker, then goes for Ellen. That woman is intently reading one of the brochures that she took from the coffee table next to the couch. Portia stops before the woman and says— or rather snaps, “Let’s go.”
Ellen looks up to her. “You’re done? I thought….”
Without waiting for that woman to finish whatever it is she was trying to say, Portia turns around and stomps her way out of the store.
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