134 Watching You Watch Him

“There is no greater pain than this; not a cut of a jagged-edged dagger nor the fire of the dragon’s breath. Nothing burns in your heart like the emptiness of losing something, someone, before you have truly learned of its value.”

Maya Fey and Pearl Fey
LAX – Los Angeles International Airport
April 21, 2026, 11:30 AM

Temporarily leaving Pearl with the task of lugging their wheeled baggage through customs and practically running more than walking through the crowds, ignoring the angry mutterings of the people she nearly ran over in her quest to rush towards the exit doors of the airport terminal, with the teenage spirit medium hurriedly mumbling apologies as she followed the cleared path left in the Master’s wake.

Nick! She thought wildly, hurrying as quickly as her sandaled feet would carry her. I need to find out what happened to Nick! I’ll take the first cab I see to the Wright Talent Agency, in hopes of a best-case scenario trial outcome … And then it’s off to the police station if for some reason – God forbid! – he’s not at home …

Her fingers were jumping rhythmically, as if in spasm, as she went to stab at the redial button of her cell, ignoring the blinking light, which indicated that she had voice messages, and cast a desperate eye about her for an idling taxicab.

The ever-observant Pearl had already spotted a taxi pulling up to the curb and was already racing towards it. The driver had just stepped out and was reaching for their bags. Just as Maya was about to call Gumshoe once more, the phone rang in her hand, startling her slightly. She quickly clapped it against her ear.

“Hello?!”

“Hey!” Gumshoe’s familiar booming baritone “Hello! Maya! Is that you?”

“Gumshoe! Thank God we finally connected!” Maya was frantic as she halted in front of the waiting vehicle, slightly winded from her unaccustomed sprinting. “I’ve been losing my mind! My flight from Darwin was supposed to have landed 90 minutes ago, but then it was stuck in a holding pattern over Los Angeles, and it took forever to get through customs and baggage!”

She stopped to catch her breath.

“Pearly and I have been stuck on that goddamned aircraft for 16 ½ hours! And then I couldn’t even call you from the plane because the onboard satellite phones weren’t working due to solar activity! It was just Murphy’s Law!”

“That sounds like pretty rough luck, pal,” Gumshoe clucked sympathetically. “I’m so sorry that I missed your call yesterday, but I wasn’t at the station, and then when you called my cell, I was driving.”

“So why wasn’t your Bluetooth connected to your car?!” Maya shrieked, uncaring of the fact that she sounded like a relentless shrew and momentarily forgetting that the Police Chief was nearly as inept as her ex-boyfriend when it came to technology.

“What’s up with this Twatter you teens are all about?” Gumshoe had once infamously asked the presently Twittering Pearl and Trucy. “And what the heck is a hashtag?! It sounds like something my parents would’ve been smoking back in the 70’s!”

“I don’t know heads or tails about that sort of stuff, pal, sorry!” Gumshoe apologized sheepishly. “I recently got a new phone that’s supposed to be Bluetooth compatible, and that darn Meekins was supposed to hook it up to my car, but hasn’t gotten around to it yet…”

“Forget that nincompoop!” The spirit medium snapped peevishly. “I just stepped outside at the airport, and was about to hop into a taxi to go see Nick right before you called… because I was losing my mind wondering what the hell was going on!”

“Well, I can tell you now that –”

“Pearl! Yoo-hoo!”  A voice suddenly called out, seeming to come from a large black limousine that had been parked right behind the taxi, the unexpected sound resulted in the poor teenager leaping in the air as if a firecracker had gone off.

“Maya! Over Here!”

Blinking with bafflement, the Master spun around at the sound of the voice.

“Hang on! What the heck –”

She had just barely managed to hit the mute button on her phone before turning around… and with a stunned gasp, found herself face-to-face with none other than… her fiancé!

“Welcome home, Babykins!” Before she could even respond Maya was suddenly engulfed by the surprisingly effusive blond man. “I’ve missed you so much!”

Maya’s face fell faster than a corpse in cement boots. In that instant, her skin became greyed and her mouth hung with lips slightly parted and her eyes were as wide as they could stretch. She didn’t know what was more astonishing; Longines’ usage of the never-used, beyond-corny nickname, or the fact that she was still wrapped tightly in his arms! What had gotten into the man?!

Her shock and bewilderment were not misplaced. Despite the warm closeness of their friendship, for as long as she had known her fiancé, all their embraces had been mere perfunctory gestures, mandated by social etiquette and, well … colder than day-old oatmeal!  Their courtship was one filled with much mutual affection but very little physical contact, ergo their hugs were typically short where, in any other circumstances between any other betrothed couple, they would normally be lingering and soft rather than formal and rigid, and immediately ending as abruptly as they had begun. In short, Longines Beaugosse hugs had all the soothing qualities of a traffic warden and just as much sex appeal!

“I can tell you’re surprised to see me!” Longines continued as he finally released her, seeming not to notice his wide-eyed fiancée had yet to have spoken. He brushed imaginary dirt from his dress shirt and pants, allowing her to let her face fall with gravity again.

Surprised?! Try completely poleaxed!

Maya numbly allowed her future groom to steer both her and Pearl away from the taxi while the driver obligingly wheeled their luggage over to the waiting limousine. The hair heir nudged the Feys towards the luxury vehicle, both mediums feeling as though they were in a daze.

“I was probably being silly, worrying so much, but coupled with the fact your flight was supposed to be here 90 minutes ago, and then I didn’t get a reply to my other texts and voice messages regarding the wedding planning…” Longines continued to prattle on merrily. “I just had to make sure you are right and see you with my own eyes! So the three of us thought we would come here and make sure everything was alright and get a head start on these last-minute wedding planning details!”

“The three of you?” She echoed blankly. “Last minute… huh?!”

Whoa, fuckpuddle, what do you think you’re doing?

As Longines flung open the door of the limousine to usher the Feys inside, the Kurain Master, at last, caught a glimpse of just who else had accompanied her fiancé on the trip to the airport, and her heart jumped high in her throat.

Seated against the plush leather interior, looking like two villains out of a very bad mobster movie, both sporting identical smirking expressions, were Jean Armstrong…and The Dragon Lady herself!

Mildew?! The Master’s gobsmacked brain had stopped working like some sort of emergency shutdown. Tits on a dog! What is she doing here?!

Pearl had already gotten into the vehicle, her doe orbs widening with alarm at the unanticipated sight of her cousin’s nemesis, and she shrank back against her seat, while her frenetic gaze looked pointedly at the still-muted phone, forgotten but still clenched in Maya’s hand.

Gadzooks! I forgot that I left Gumshoe on hold!  She realized with horror. And I still have no idea what the hell happened to Nick! How am I supposed to find anything out with these three right here, staring at me?!

From somewhere deep within her, the shaken beauty managed to draw upon all of her inner composure and long-harbored acting skills as she slipped into a poker-faced mask that would’ve made Phoenix Wright proud! Holding up a finger to signal to the others that she was still on a phone call, with one foot inside the limo, she slightly turned her head away, acutely aware of the fact that she was still under intense scrutiny, especially by her enemy, and pressed the button to resume the phone call, all the while ensuring that both her countenance and voice were now unreadable.

“My apologies for the delay.” Her tone was now steadily calm and belied any of the earlier agitations she had exhibited earlier. “I do believe you were about to let me know the latest information about the situation I was inquiring about?”

“Maya?” The Chief asked uncertainly, undoubtedly wondering if his friend had been body-snatched in the last two minutes! “What’s going on? Is everything OK? Why do you sound so weird?”

“I’m fine.” Painfully aware of the suspicious narrowing of Mildew’s sharp eyes as she continued to stare intently at her, Maya’s Oscar-worthy skills went up a notch, her voice now nearly icy with formality, as she desperately ventured to appear on a business call. “Could you please just relay the facts about the issue?”

“Um, Phoenix is fine, Maya,” Gumshoe answered tentatively, his tone conveying that he was entirely bewildered by this strange turn of events. “It turns out Kristoph Gavin was the actual murderer, trying to frame him for Shadi Smith’s death. Gavin’s behind bars, and Phoenix is a free man.”

The immediate lightness in the Master’s heart upon hearing this joyous news was an unexpected reflex that she was unable to control, although she was still very careful to ensure her comportment was impassive when she spoke.

“That is most fortunate to hear,” she responded coolly, appearing to anybody who was listening that they were discussing something as mundane as the weather.  “Thank you kindly for keeping me apprised about the matter. I’m afraid I have to go now. I will contact you shortly when I’m settled back at my home.”

“Er, sure, pal, but are you sure –”

Not allowing her friend the chance to complete his sentence, Maya speedily ended the call, flashing a weak smile at her unwanted companions as she did so.

“Jean…hello,” she murmured, flashing as amiable a smile as she could muster to Longines’ assistant. “This is such a…pleasant welcome home…ah, surprise indeed! I know you’re the best man, so that explains your presence … but I confess to being most perplexed as to what you’re doing here, Mystic Mildred?”

The indignant glower Pearl was shamelessly casting in the old woman’s direction indicated she was just as eager to know the same thing!

“Where have you been, girlfriend?” Armstrong emitted a high-pitched titter as he batted his eyelashes at the Master.

I have been within the boonies of the Australian Outback – aka literally the other side of the planet, in the middle of freakin’ nowhere – during which time Jean has deemed me to be “girlfriend” status?!

“Didn’t you know?” He trilled gaily. “Millie here is my homegirl!”

Pearl’s eyes nearly bugged at her head at this revelation, while Longines merely chuckled indulgently and smiled fondly at his assistant.

“Isn’t that right, Millie old girl?” The pink-clad man prompted, giving the scrawny Dragon Lady a playful bunch with his meaty shoulder, causing her to be forcefully jolted against the door of the limousine, and smashing her face against the tinted glass window from the unintended power of the impact!

Mildred cringed slightly – both at having been lurched so painfully, as well as at the atrocious nickname! – but flashed a Cheshire cat grin at Armstrong before directing it towards the diviner, the sight making the spirit medium’s skin crawl as she seriously pondered whether or not she and her unsuspecting cousin had stumbled into some sort of Twilight Zone alternate universe!

“Jeanie and I have bonded recently,” Mildew abided, her sickeningly sweet smile only widening and increasing the sharp, gnawing sensation forming in Maya’s gut. “He appeared to be getting a little bit overwhelmed with the wedding preparations and as you know, since I am such a good assistant, I decided to offer the benefit of my services to him, seeing as Sister Bikini, Sister Iris, and dear Harry Butz have such good reign on things back in Kurain! It gives me such great pleasure to offer my aid where it was most needed!”

“Millie here has been the best thing to happen to a girl since the invention of pantyhose!” Armstrong enthused, wrapping a brawny arm around the village elder’s bony, narrow shoulders with such effusiveness, Maya was positive she heard the loathsome woman’s brittle bones creak slightly from the gesture! The unintentional battering of her nemesis would’ve been quite comical indeed, had she not been recoiling inwardly from all of this!

Let me get this straight, you overblown cream puff… If you’ll pardon the expression! The village leader was nearly stupefied with disbelief. In the mere week that I was gone the entire universe decided to shift itself into another dimension where my wayward ex-boyfriend got charged with murder for the third time around… and suddenly She-Thing One and She-Thing Two are bosom buddies?! Be that as it may, why would Longines even allow this?! He knows how much I hate Mildew, and always took my side against any battles I’ve had with her in the past! So what in Sam Hill is going on here?!

 Mildred Latrine and Jean Armstrong
Douce-Amère
April 13, 2026, 12:21 PM

I suppose it was nice of Armstrong to offer to pay the cost of the cab fare down from the village for our “just girls” lunch that I suggested we have today since that evil fiend of a Master cut me off from access to all Kurain’s funds! Mildred grumbled to herself as she exited the taxi, instructing the driver, as directed by the assistant, to put the bill onto the Beaugosse company tab and walk into the restaurant. She’s purposefully left me penniless and stranded up there! 

Douce-Amère projected a more English tea ambiance than that of a traditional French café. The interior exuded warmth and cheer, illuminated by bright lights and adorned with vibrant walls. Terracotta and rustic tiled floors, slow-turning ceiling fans, and Monet prints framed on the walls contributed to the inviting atmosphere. The decor embraced wall-to-wall large windows, offering ample natural light. Small crystal vases with pink carnation flowers adorned each glass-top table, strategically designed for intimate conversations. The glass-fronted counter displayed an assortment of cream cakes and pastries, featuring English-sounding names. Naturally, the selection included obligatory scones and crumpets.

It was upon said glass counter that Mildred found the flamboyant faux Frenchman in a fit of histrionics, his head bent down and resting against his arms, while his bare, tree trunk-sized shoulders shook with heavy sobs.

“Pourquoi must all zee bad things happen to little ol’, unsuspecting moi?!” He wept bitterly. “First my poor soufflé refuses to rise… And then a dozen attempts later, it eez, along w’iz my sensitive but temperamental assistant, on zee verge of collapse!”

“I’m neither sensitive nor collapsing, just straight and fleeing immediately from your untoward advances, you vile, oversexed, pink pastry puff! I’m like, totally gone!” Another voice hollered. “Dude, I’ve never felt so cheap in my whole life!”

“Phil-eeeep!” Armstrong screeched in an alarming falsetto as the infuriated-looking blonde man stormed into the room from the back. “Z’is just cannot be!”

Both men were still unaware of Mildred’s presence as Armstrong gazed beseechingly with bloodshot red eyes at the fuming, twenty-something Philipe, who was in a fitted white T-shirt across his sculpted torso, along with the tiniest pair of Daisy Duke, black booty shorts the village elder had ever seen anybody wear in her entire life, including on the Spanish porno channel! The blond’s long, wavy locks flew around his infuriated tanned face as he rapidly grabbed his belongings from behind the counter and shoved them into his work bag, ignoring the other man’s pleas.

“Please, don’t go!”

“Screw this! I am so outta here, pervy dude!” The California surfer hunk glared at the man in pink. “That’s like, the third time those grubby mitts of yours have ‘accidentally’ grazed my ass – that last wholesome squeeze gave me a wedgie! It’s bad enough I let you talk me into wearing these girly shorts for a uniform, but then you try to treat me like some piece of man meat, you depraved freak! No way am I sticking around for this shit, man!”

“Phil-eeeep, you bitch! ‘Ow can you do z’is to moi after everything I ‘ave done for you!” Armstrong whimpered. “I hired you as my pastry chef when nobody else would take a chance on you, and yet you still so heartlessly wish to leave poor moi like this! And after all that we’ve been through together?!”

“What we have been through together is called sexual harassment!” The young man snapped. “With me as the unfortunate victim!”

“What about all our quiet, quality times together!” In his antsy state, the restaurateur was beginning to do his disturbingly familiar torso wiggle, although this time out of agitation rather than an ill-placed attempt to appear alluring!

“Being ‘accidentally’ locked in the freezer with you and you offering to cuddle for warmth does not count!” The shaggy-haired surfer-looking guy raged. “And for the trillionth and final time, my name is Philip! Stop trying to make us all French! Peter and I told you were born and raised in LA, dude!”

“Did all our time together truly mean rien pour vouz?!” Armstrong wailed. “You’re no better than that unreliable twin of yours! I gave you everything I had to offer and showed you all z’at I knew, and zeez is how you repay moi!”

“You just hired me and Peter yesterday! I should’ve left when he did – at least my bro has only been subjected to shameless ogling but not a victim to bad touch!” Philip yelled. “I don’t know why I didn’t just listen to my gut instinct and know something wasn’t right when you hired the both of us, despite having no experience, because it looked like we would be ‘double zee pleasure’!”

The aggravated newest ex-employee of Douce-Amère stormed up to the thunderstruck Mildred, still standing by the door.

“You get your choice of positions, lady, since this hard-up dude is down one sous chef and one pastry chef too as of now!” The blond announced to the gobsmacked old woman, treating the devastated Armstrong to one final, contemptuous glare. “You might even be safe from those wandering paws and prying eyeballs of his since I don’t think you have the equipment Mr. Horny Toad here is looking for!”

Philip eyed the black kimono-clad elder up and down contemplatively.

“I mean, it’s hard to tell underneath that weird getup you’re wearing, but you’re still some sort of chick, right?”

“Why, I never!” Aghast at the insolent rudeness of the question, Mildred could only gasp with outrage, unable to think of a response.

“I’m going to have to cut myself out of these things!” Philip muttered disgustedly, gesturing towards his spray-painted shorts as he stalked to the exit – with as much dignity as the too-tight pants would muster. However, they were so binding that he ended up only being able to manage an angry shuffle past the infuriated elder, and towards the door. “And by the way, lose that phony French accent! You keep pretending you’re an éclair but you’re nothing more than an … huge, cream-stuffed, over-glazed, Krispy Kreme donut!”

“Take z’at back! Get out, you meanie!” Armstrong sobbed as the door slammed shut behind the other man, before collapsing against the counter in another fit of tears. He lifted his tear-drenched face and looked miserably at Mildred, his French inflection once again vanquished.

“That is the fifth sous chef and the fourth pastry chef I have lost this month alone!” His jowls quivered.  “I give all I have to give; I give till it hurts and I bend over backward for these boys, trying to teach them how to be Master Chefs, but always they end up running away! What did I do to deserve such disloyalty?!”

“Um…er…”

“When will I ever have a golden boy to call my own?!” He resumed sobbing. “When will I ever be loved?! Is it my fate to die alone?! Am I truly so unlovable?”

Mildred couldn’t abide to see a man cry. Weak. Pathetic. Loser. She took her disgusted eyes off Jean Armstrong as he crumpled. How could he expect anyone to love him when he wore his heart on his sleeve like a goddamn, Victorian-era femme? He was essentially a weeping little girl in big boy pants! No balls! None whatsoever! She let her eyes flick briefly back to his reddened face, her impassive expression just the same as her father’s had been the day mother died.

However, seeing such a big, fully grown man crumble in such a manner was such a sad sight that it almost made Mildred change her plans. Almost, but not quite.

I am perfectly fine! There is absolutely no issue with me! Is it incorrect to harbor disdain for those attempting to comprehend or challenge me? What’s the purpose of making an effort? I am merely pursuing my own desires. Having lived to this advanced age, I neither require nor desire any form of affection. I lack the time, capability, and inclination to attempt to love the inferior individuals surrounding me. These individuals might dismiss me as cold-hearted, self-serving, and emotionless, but such clichéd notions are mere drivel!

In the background, Armstrong continued to snivel loudly.

Shut up with the pitiful waterworks, you ridiculous excuse for a man! Can’t you see I’m plotting here?!

A light bulb went off in Mildred’s brain. Thinking back to the insolent pup who had scurried off like a bat out of hell, in hindsight she realized that he had indeed resembled a younger version of none other than … Longines! And hadn’t the irate Phil mentioned he’d had a twin brother?! She would bet her bottom dollar that the two men had been identical blonds – as had undoubtedly been all of Armstrong’s previously groped ex-employees! The wannabe Parisian definitely had a type, and it was becoming very glaringly obvious, from his last telling sentence, as to what was going on here!

The poor, besotted fool was desperately trying to fill – or Phil in this case! – the void with any sort of similar form to his handsome, golden, and very beloved employer, even willing to settle for the poor man’s version of Longines Beaugosse!

Initially, she’d thought she would enlist the phony Frenchman in using his powers of persuasion to convince Longines to halt the nuptials, but now she had an even better idea.

I harbor emotions just like everyone else, albeit hidden beneath a façade unnoticed by the oblivious. If they were privy to the intricacies of my actions and motives, they might hastily label me heartless, blinded by sentimental naivety. Should I be burdened with a conscience for the collateral damage on my ascent? Is ambition synonymous with manipulation, or is it merely seizing opportunities others overlook in their mediocrity? Accusations of deceit would likely arise, yet don’t we all muzzle the truth like children suppressing a forbidden secret? The charge of narcissism may be hurled, but why does the world begrudge the meticulous safeguarding of reputation and influence? Sociopath becomes a favored epithet, an ironic applause for forging a path in society. Why the world recoils from those who lead instead of following is a question worth pondering.

Jean Armstrong was a man who was desperately in love, and exploiting that love was exactly what was going to help Mildred further her scheme – and more than she had previously anticipated! Because even though this was unrequited love – Armstrong was still a man who, whether he knew it or not, had the CEO billionaire wrapped around his finger, and could make Longines Beaugosse do whatever he commanded him to do!

Label me “selfish” if you must, but I view it as unabashedly “honest.” Few willingly relinquish what they might need in the future. Volunteering at a soup kitchen on a day off may earn one a “good person” badge, but I lack the inclination to play that game. I didn’t craft this world, nor did I prompt the unfortunate choices leading to homelessness. The shotgun nature of the education system, the flawed design of low-income housing, and the soaring costs of energy and food weren’t my doing. While countless hunger-stricken mouths exist in every city block and on Earth at large, am I expected to starve myself to provide them with rice and lentils? They aren’t my responsibility. I didn’t dictate that society judge individuals based on their tax contributions.

Fine, Armstrong could make the hair heir do anything …with perhaps the exception of that which she mentally dubbed unspeakable! However, Mildred certainly had no intention of venturing into that nightmarish danger zone! Perish the thought!

“What you must think of me now!” Armstrong cried. “You must think I’m the most pathetic human being alive to let you see me like this! I hate to have you think less of me because of this!”

Thus, I refuse to shoulder the burden of guilt. I assert my goodness, evidenced by my tireless efforts for the well-being of this village, its residents, and the elders. The money I’ve pocketed is rightfully mine, a deserved compensation for my unwavering hard work, even if it was acquired through deceit and manipulation – after all, those efforts still qualify as work. I didn’t inherit this wealth; I earned it through my endeavors. As circumstances indicate a potential end to my favorable situation, any funds obtained during my escape planning will unapologetically become mine. Given the negligible impact on others, I can take pride in the acknowledgment that this getaway money is a product of my diligent efforts. If damnation awaits for the unconventional methods employed, so be it! When I return to my origins, I’ll be sure to convey your greetings to the Devil!

Mildred took a moment to give pause to her inner musings, a determined glint in her eye.

Those labeling me callous are typically bleeding hearts and ineffectual do-gooders who can’t navigate the cutthroat reality of this world. They need to comprehend the dog-eat-dog nature where only the winners prevail. Indifference is not callousness; it’s ambition. Those suggesting otherwise are likely just envious. I see my role as crucial in the grand performance of a lifetime.

She turned to regard Armstrong, so anxious for commiseration and for her not to judge him, sincerity pouring from every feature. His eyes were red-rimmed and watery, his face slack, and his lips sagging, listless. He cast his eyes down instead of meeting her gaze in what appeared to be shyness or shame. Mildred awkwardly patted him on the shoulder and murmured sympathetically, all the while turning her head to the side and rolling her eyes as he wept. She positively despised such overt displays of emotion!

No matter, though; she knew ultimately her patience would pay off in the end. This time, there would be no mistakes made and nothing but pure confirmation that she was 100% on his side, blanketing his better judgement. She’d had many, many years to perfect this façade and soon enough, this pink cream pouf would be her ticket to strutting away with the money she needed to escape the wrath of Kurain when this mess all fell apart.

“Think less of you, dear boy?” She cooed, compassion etched on her every pore. “Such a thing is impossible, I assure you!”

The look of imminent relief on the man’s face was impossible to miss, and she smirked to herself at how the big idiot had completely missed the dual innuendo of her words.

Mildred effortlessly deciphered him. His anxious smile betrayed an eagerness to please, evident beneath the veneer of ill-fitting and provocatively chosen attire. Despite the awkward posture, he readily acquiesced to her every request, only to find himself embarrassed afterward. For as long as it took to line her pockets, she’d play the role of his best friend, even if it meant engaging in activities she despised and he adored. Following the financial gains, he would be at her mercy like an enthusiastic puppy, convinced he had found a loyal ally. Until the wedding day arrived, she was prepared to endure the role of his servant or the best friend he never had – indifferent to either. However, once the dust settled from this charade, the crybaby wouldn’t even receive a goodbye; she would vanish with her earnings, leaving without a backward glance.

“I’m sure Longines would think otherwise if he saw me acting in such a manner! That man never loses his cool, and is always so poised and professional and elegant…”

OK, I get it! You love him off! Enough already! Your passion is beginning is affect my gag reflex!

Mildred studied the man’s teary, bloodshot eyes, and tried to picture him properly dressed, with better-coiffed hair and more suitable attire. While the flamboyant personality could not be altered, she supposed Jean Armstrong, if worked on, wouldn’t be too bad to look at really, although could certainly benefit from do-over and better fitting clothing! For a moment she contemplated a tactful way to make this observation but then decided to let it pass. His love life was no concern to her.

Until that miraculous glamour makeover fairy arrived, however, while he was still an outrageous screaming queen of a man who was a bit dumpy around the stomach, Armstrong was nonetheless, hopelessly devoted to those he loved, and maybe some man, someday, would possibly find that touching!  Besides, considering her speculated theory about the future groom’s sexual orientation, perhaps the pitiful pipe dream of someday landing his heart at some point wasn’t too outlandish of a fantasy.

After all, stranger things had happened, including, but not limited, to the fact that Maya had agreed to this complete charade of a wedding in the first place!

“My lips are sealed! Your boss shall never hear a word from me about this,” Mildred swore, deciding the time had come to take the reins of the situation. “Perhaps the problem is that you have been giving too much and bending over, whichever way, ah, for the wrong people.”

She swallowed back the snicker creeping up in her throat at that mental image, and then stifled by the bile that quickly replaced it at the harrowing thought!

“How am I ever going to cater for the wedding if I can’t keep the help longer than five minutes?! There is only so much a girl can do on her own!” Armstrong wept. “C’est impossible!”

“Your overwrought nerves and this calamity of assistants leaving a smoky trail behind them is a sign, Jean, can’t you see that?” Mildred placed a placating hand on his arm. “Do you honestly want to be here, sweating over some big, hot stove, while Longines is stranded by himself right now at that tuxedo fitting?! We both know what you  want to be is by his side because you’re his best man and that’s where you belong!”

“We can’t always get what we want, though.” Armstrong sighed mournfully. “Longines thought if I catered the event, it would be a great promotion for my restaurant, which as you see, just like the last one, has absolutely no customers whatsoever! Perhaps I am ill-fated as a restaurateur! I seem to fail at everything I do! I’m just a big failure at everything!”

His eyes welled up again.

“You are not a failure at all, precious boy!” Mildred simpered, injecting as much conviction into her voice as she could. “Your talents have simply been misdirected and misplaced! What you should be doing is proving to Longines just what a devoted and capable assistant you are by helping him out with every step of the wedding and ensuring he gets the one his heart truly has been set on!”

“There’s not anything for me to do!” Armstrong sniffled. “Maya wanted a small, simple wedding at Hazakura Temple, with a tiny number of guests and me to create just a simple catered, buffet lunch with no reception. She even has her dress already picked, and is going to have her friend Sasha do her hair…”

“Small? Simple?” Mildred repeated the words as though they were blasphemy. “Inconceivable! Do you honestly think that that’s what Longines wants?!”

“But it’s what his fiancée wants…” Armstrong sounded hopeful but hesitant. “And he is loyal and intent on making her happy…”

“Longines Beaugosse has been a man of great benevolence and charitable endeavors, and has always put others before himself!” She argued persistently. “Surely, a man of his affluence and celebrity deserves recognition and a worthy grand, splashy affair that is seen by the world, with no expense spared! A wedding that would rival that of even Prince William and Princess Kate! It would bring a great spotlight to your business, Beaugosse Enterprises, as well as Kurain… and everybody would benefit from such a grand affair!”

The old woman placed an arm around Armstrong’s brawny shoulder and waved her hand in the distance as if trying to make the man picture what she was envisioning.

“It will be a wedding fit for a king! I can see it now!  Aerial acrobats… A world-famous band… Sumptuous food and designer detailing… Fireworks… Something that rivals everything you see in all those wedding magazines!”

“But what about Maya?” He persisted anxiously. “It’s her wedding too!”

“Forget about Maya! That entitled Princess become very spoiled and full of herself since becoming the Master, and thus become much too accustomed to having everything her own way for far too long!”

Mildred lifted her chin defiantly.

“For heaven’s sake – the Master and your employer got engaged at the Eiffel Tower in Paris! How can we possibly allow the proposal to be more grandeur than the wedding itself? A marriage is about compromise and selflessness…yet she has been nothing but a selfish brat during this whole engagement, insisting on being the one calling all the shots, even if it means ignoring her selfless betrothed’s latent desires, for far too long! It is time for her to let her future husband no longer suffer in silence but be able to bask in the glory of the celebration he deserves!”

“He does deserve nothing but the best…” Armstrong began slowly, his eyes began to sparkle with excitement, as they always did whenever his employer was mentioned.

“It will be magnificent… and your boss will be the happiest man on earth!” Mildred declared. “I am positive once Maya realizes a splashy affair will be bringing such great joy to her celebrity bridegroom – and tons of recognition and spotlight to her village – shall have no choice but to go along – er, I mean, be basking in the joy of it all, as well!”

The elder swallowed back a cackle of glee at this last bald-faced lie, knowing full well what the Master’s actual reaction would be… But as she was on the other side of the world right now, it would be too late for her to do anything!

“It sounds fantabulous!” Armstrong clapped his hands with delight, his earlier self-pity and misery completely abolished. “I am sure Maya will see the big picture eventually! After all, shouldn’t a bride want to see her man happy?”

“I’m pretty sure that since you’re able to convince Longines to take a break from his busy CEO schedule to do aerial yoga, it will be a piece of cake to persuade him that this is ultimately something a man of his caliber is justified in having! After all, he’ll only be getting married once!”

“Well, I did manage to convince him that the Australian crunning craze was passé and to switch to dangling in the air in bun-hugging yoga pants for a better workout instead!” Armstrong tittered, putting a finger to his lips, and winked coquettishly as the old woman felt her stomach churn at the mere notion! “Trust moi, as much as the idea of Longines facedown, sweet cheeks up in the air did make my insides lurch quiver and knees tremble…”

In a similar manner to the way, this over-sharing information is making my innards quiver and I tremble on the verge of outright nausea I would imagine…

“What can I say? He is… quite the vision…” Armstrong leered provocatively, and Mildred tried her hardest not to gag at the mental visions this sudden burst of unprecedented ardor had sent her mind spiraling in!

“Well, I’m sure he would be delighted to hear your visions for planning this elaborate festive occasion! The wedding is just around the corner, so you need to get right on the preparations as soon as you convince him that his upcoming nuptials should be so much more than the hole-in-corner affair his shortsighted fiancée initially wanted!”

A spurious beam spread across her face as Armstrong now appeared to eagerly be eating up every load of crock line she was feeding him, in big, greedy gulps! She fought the urge to take a bow as she gave the closing argument.

“Just imagine how grateful and tickled pink Longines will be to know that you, his best man and darling chum, were the one to give him the wedding of his dreams – and make his heart be filled with such delight – by making them come true! I’m sure there’ll be no words to express his gratitude towards you…”

She let the rest of her words trail off in the full meaning – and possibility – of them sink in.

A big ear-to-ear grin danced across Armstrong’s features, but then his shoulders drooped suddenly.

“But the wedding is just around the corner there’s just so much to do!” He moaned. “I can’t possibly spread myself so thin, what with running this restaurant and being best man and throwing his bachelor party and wedding planning… There’s no way I could do all that by myself!”

“And so you shall not need to!” Mildred assumed her most benign expression. “That’s what I’m here for! You take care of all the small, fun details, like clothing and flowers and favors… and all the boring, arduous ones…” and the most expensive ones! –  “that is the most time-consuming, like choosing the caterers and outdoor décor and the guest list and invites… can all be left to little ol’ me!”

“You mean it, Millie?” He eyed her hopefully, as if hesitant to believe in such noble altruism. “You’d really do all that for me?”

“What else are girlfriends for… Jeanie?” Mildred batted her lashes at him. “You don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing from this day onward! Your main job is to do what you do best, and coax the future groom to get behind this arrangement! And then you just leave everything else to me!”

“This is so exciting!” Armstrong clasped his hands against his chest. “Millie, despite that dreary black ensemble you insist on wearing everywhere, that kimono of yours is surely hiding the wings of an absolute angel!”

“From this day, consider me your steadfast assistant – and the last one you’ll ever need!” She promised, then smirked. “However, I am agreeing to this – on one condition!”

“What’s that, Millie girl? Anything you want, you’ve got it! I owe you big time!”

“Don’t even think about asking me to put on a pair of those black booty shorts!”