Cupcakes

Chapter 9: Upstairs

Chapter 9: Upstairs

My goal was rather simple that evening: to inform Jarr that he was not allowed to bed or play badly with the eighteen-year-old new hire, and that Hayden was off limits pertaining to Jarr’s attraction for the fresh creampuff, whatever degree it entailed. In private, while whipping up triple chocolate fudge batter for four cakes, Richter and I agreed that Jarr would fail miserably at our devised requirement, and that we would allow him one slip. If two slips occurred, which we both knew they would, Jarr would be asked to leave Cupcakes for three weeks, suspended from his baking extravaganzas in the kitchen, which would kill him since all three of us knew how much he liked to spend time at the business, working pro bono or not.

Since Cupcakes just happened to be the relator’s playground, Richter and I also knew that it was rather impossible to bar our personal friend from the shop’s confines, especially since he lived above the store. So who were we kidding? No one. Not even ourselves.

Richter warmed butter and chocolate in a double boiler at the stove, stirring his mixture. He said over his right shoulder, “It still won’t hurt if you confront Jarr face to face, David. The man needs to be set straight.”

I laughed and replied, “There isn’t anything at all straight about that man, and there never will be.”

* * * *

Jarr’s apartment on the third floor above Cupcakes was a one-room studio with a flawless view of Lake Erie. He had the single room divided into four areas: living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. The living room area was comprised of wool carpet, IKEA furniture, and a seventy-two inch flat-screen. To the far left was the kitchen area, which was tidy, had all updated stainless-steel appliances, and a small island surrounded by iron chairs. Jarr’s bathroom was tucked away in the far right corner behind three silk screens of Marilyn Monroe posing as a pin-up girl. To the left of the triple screens was my friend’s bedroom, or what I called the place where Jarr and Hayden would inevitably bang their boots together.

Of course I had to be a gentleman during my warning, which was exactly how I carried myself. Why be rude or vulgar when it wasn’t necessary? Jarr and I had known each other for what felt like eons, and both of us had the utmost respect for the other person. It was unacceptable to treat him in any other way, I knew.