And Everything Nice Read online

  And Everything Nice

  Ada Maria Soto

  First Publication 2016 by Dreamspinner Press as part of the Simmer Anthology

  Edited by Tricia Kristufek

  * * *

  Second Publication Copywrite 2020 Ada Maria Soto

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  epub ISBN 978-0-473-50953-8

  kindle ISBN 978-0-473-50954-5

  Contents

  Author’s Notes

  And Everything Nice

  Actually Tasty Gluten, Wheat, Soy, Dairy, Egg-Free Chocolate Raspberry Brownies

  Really Effing Good Chocolate Chip Cookies

  Mama Lee’s Banana Bread

  The Vegan Pavlova

  About the Author

  By the Author

  Author’s Notes

  This story was first published in 2016 as part of a food/romance anthology put out by Dreamspinner Press called Simmer. It came with a very good brownie recipe. The brownie recipe is still included along with recipes for really fucking good chocolate chip cookies, vegan pavlova, and the best banana bread you will ever have. The banana bread recipe comes from an old friend of the family who passed away a few years ago but left behind a lot of lives touched and what is seriously the best banana bread you will ever have. Her daughter assured me she would not mind me sharing it here. The other recipes were just developed by my own trial and error in the kitchen. If you try them please don’t hesitate to tell me about it.

  And Everything Nice

  “Have you seen the new tech writer yet?” Mark leaned against the edge of Angelo’s desk.

  “Nope.” And he had no time to. Angelo had spent the last week trying to detangle the code of some twenty-year-old “developer” who made a mess of the company servers, then split to hitchhike through Tibet or some nonsense like that.

  “He has an ‘It’s OK to be Takei’ mug, and he’s hot.” Mark grinned like a used-car salesman trying to pass off a Ford Pinto as classic engineering.

  Angelo briefly looked over his shoulder at Mark, the only other coder who had survived at PrimaWebTech as long as he had, sort of a friend by default. “A rainbow Star Trek mug is not a guaranteed sign of gayness, and considering your collection of Rangiku Matsumoto figurines, I question your ability to gauge attractiveness of the male form.”

  “Just because I happen to favor slightly well-endowed women who can wield a katana does not mean I’m not fully aware of your type. He’s in Debbie’s old cubicle down the hall. Wander down and take a peek.”

  “Sure.” Agreeing with Mark was the fastest way to get rid of him.

  “You’re just agreeing with me to get rid of me.”

  “Yep.” And the last time he let himself get involved with anyone at work, it ended in a company-wide, corporate-mandated, two-day seminar on office-appropriate behavior. No matter how painfully single he was, there were some paths not worth taking again.

  Angelo’s virtual terminal beeped, then froze. “That kid better be learning some high-end kung fu because if he ever shows his face around here again, I am so going to kick his ass.”

  * * *

  Angelo’s eyes kept flicking over to the new tech writer. He had drawn the short straw and now had to explain to the entire version 5.1 team how a kid they shouldn’t have hired who had already left was going to delay their next release by almost a week.

  At the start of the meeting, the new guy briefly introduced himself as Simon. He stood at least three inches taller than Angelo, but that wasn’t hard. He had the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, showing off well-defined forearms. A light tan, dark-brown hair, and gray-blue eyes put Angelo to mind of a Siamese cat he once had. And to make matters worse, he looked like he was paying attention and taking notes as opposed to staring into space or doodling on his notepad. Angelo nearly lost track of the conversation a few times, distracted by having someone actually focused on him.

  Angelo swung by Mark’s cubicle after the meeting. “I hate you so very much.”

  Mark grinned at him. “So are you going to start with the cookies, or jump straight to the caramel rolls? Honestly with looks like that, I’d go right for the big guns.”

  “He might not be gay, and he’s probably already got a boyfriend.”

  “Prescouted. Single, new in town, currently into Elder Scrolls online, and has a pride flag bumper sticker, so out and proud.”

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “Because I’m your bro, and bros help bros get laid.”

  Mark had suffered through the two-day seminar along with everyone else, and even before that showed minimal interest in his love life. “I am deeply suspicious, and I’m pretty sure you just want my baking.”

  “That is a nice side effect of you trying to get some.”

  “I hate you.”

  * * *

  Chocolate-Chip Cookies

  * * *

  Angelo worked his way down the row of cubicles that included Simon’s, stopping at each one. He’d never been comfortable talking to new people, or people in general. If the new person was attractive, Angelo would end up drowning in nerves, tripping over his own tongue, and struggling for something to say. He discovered in high school a plate of cookies made for a good conversation opening and acted as a sort of psychological buffer. However, handing someone new a whole plate of cookies was coming on a bit strong. Better to look like he’d made them for everyone.

  He tapped on the side of Simon’s cubicle, and Simon swiveled in his chair. “Simon, right? Angelo. Cookie?” He held out the plate. He’d gone for his chocolate-chip cookies, always a good icebreaker. They weren’t too large, making them harder to justify refusing. He used the vanilla paste instead of extract for a richer flavor, refrigerated the dough for twenty-four hours to allow the flavors to meld, giving it undertones of caramel, dark-chocolate chips to balance the sweet, and baked them just before leaving for work so the chocolate was still semimelted.

  Simon glanced at the plate. “Oh, no, thanks.”

  “Home baked.”

  Simon smiled. “That’s okay.”

  “Okay.” Angelo smiled despite a flash of disappointment. He knew lots of people didn’t want to accept sweet food in front of someone else. “How are you liking PWT so far?”

  “It’s fine,” Simon answered quickly, flashing a bright smile that didn’t reach his gray-blue eyes.

  “It’s every other tech company you’ve ever worked for.”

  “Not quite.” Simon tapped the gray fabric wall. “Most places don’t use cubicles anymore. It’s all open plan.”

  “They tried that here a couple of years ago,” Angelo said, glad for a conversation topic he didn’t have to think up since the cookies were a nonstarter. “Productivity tanked, and everyone got cranky and threatened to quit. They put them back after three months.”

  Before Simon could respond, Julia, the head of testing, walked by, then did an almost comical one eighty. She yanked a cookie off the plate. “How dare you bake when I’m on a diet?” She turned to Simon. “I swear this man is the sole reason we have sexual harassment seminars. The things people are willing to do for his banana bread, you would not believe.”

  Angelo held out the plate to Julia, praying she would not go into the details of “that” incident. He could already feel his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Have another.”

  She blatantly mouthed, “I love you,” before taking another two and hurrying off to wherever she’d been heading.

  A
ngelo smiled at Simon. “Leftovers will be in the kitchen if you change your mind.”

  Simon smiled back. “Thanks.”

  Angelo went back to his cubicle, which was nicely placed to let him see into the kitchen if the door was open. At exactly ten fifteen, Simon entered the kitchen, made himself a cup of tea, and walked out, not even looking at the cookies. Angelo tried not to be disappointed again, but he had to wonder what kind of person didn’t even glance at a plate of fresh-baked cookies.

  * * *

  Pain au chocolat

  * * *

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Angelo had reserved the seat in the back of the lecture room for Mark, but he seemed to be a no-show.

  “All yours.”

  Simon sat down next to Angelo. Angelo tried not to take a deep breath, but Simon smelled good, a combination of tea, lemon, and a hint of sea salt. Over two months Simon had turned down chocolate-chip cookies, red velvet cupcakes, and warm scones of both sweet and savory varieties. He’d also responded to all of Angelo’s requests for early draft documentation, paid attention to him in meetings, complimented his Welcome to Night Vale T-shirts, and joined in conversations about gaming. Angelo wondered to himself if he could somehow catch Simon’s scent in a pastry.

  “We used this at my last job.” Simon gestured to the training binders on the table.

  Angelo looked at the binder for some new business tool. He had no idea what it was for. He just knew he had training with a date, time, and location listed in his calendar. The cover of the binder had a stock photo of smiling people in business clothes and gave him no hints.

  “Is it any good?”

  “It’s Microsoft Access with a trademarked skin and any useful feature stripped out. Cost the company a bundle, and no one ever used it.”

  “So the next eight hours are going to be a complete waste of time. I thought this was feeling like high school.” Though in high school, no one ever smelled as good as Simon did.

  Simon grinned. “And we’re the cool slacker kids in the back of the classroom.”

  No one had ever referred to Angelo as cool. “Does this mean we get to ditch out at the first bathroom break and spend the rest of the day getting stoned with the drama kids?”

  “I don’t know if we can get away with ditching, but ten bucks says I can ask the trainer enough questions he can’t answer that he’ll let us out early.”

  Angelo wasn’t going to take the bet, but he was going to make Simon something particularly nice if it worked.

  * * *

  “I’m guessing the chocolate croissants didn’t work,” Mark said as he brushed the crumbs of pastry off his shirt.

  “He didn’t even blink at them.” Angelo scowled but didn’t look up from the tangle of old code that needed to be streamlined.

  After two hours of watching Simon fluster a corporate trainer nearly to tears, he decided he definitely wanted to ask him out for a drink. He was hot, had a nice smile, and they liked all the same video games and TV shows, except he had not had the guts to ask anyone out who wasn’t distracted by his baking in many years. When he tried it without the baking, he’d seldom gotten a positive response. Angelo had to admit to himself he was a tad insulted. Proper pain au chocolat wasn’t exactly easy to make from scratch, and very few people outside of professional kitchens even tried.

  “Maybe he doesn’t do sugar.”

  That was always a possibility, but one Angelo didn’t relish. Baking was his thing, and while he could do sugar free, it wasn’t quite the same.

  * * *

  Sugar-Free Apple Muffins

  * * *

  Simon liked his tea on a very strict schedule. He always got a cup at ten fifteen and two thirty. Angelo made sure to be in the kitchen laying out muffins when Simon came in for his midmorning tea.

  “Good morning.”

  Simon gave him a nod and a smile. “Morning.” He dropped a tea bag into his “It’s OK to be Takei” mug and filled it with hot water.

  “Could I interest you in a muffin? Sugar free. Sweetened with applesauce and a pinch of stevia.”

  Simon leaned away from the tray.

  “No. No thanks.”

  Just ask him out, a whiny little voice in Angelo’s mind said.

  “Would—” Angelo stuttered. “Would you like to go over the last notes for the version five point two test environment?” He mentally slapped himself but froze a smile on his face.

  Simon smiled a little. “If you like, but the notes you sent through seemed pretty comprehensive. Unless something has changed?”

  “Nope. Just thought I’d ask.” He waited until Simon left before softly banging his head on the kitchen counter.

  * * *

  Teatime Cookies

  * * *

  “Would you like to go over the last notes for the version five point two test environment?” Mark repeated with a laugh while he hacked apart a goblin.

  “Oh, shut up.”

  Simon’s avatar, an elf warrior, ran across Mark’s seventy-two-inch TV screen toward a second approaching group of goblins. Mark had invited Simon into their Sunday-night campaign. Simon accepted the invitation without hesitation, and Mark gave Angelo a wink.

  “Maybe he doesn’t like eating in front of people or taking food from them. Some sort of psychological hang-up.”

  “Possible, I guess.” It would make Angelo’s usual approach to romance that much harder if it were the case. His baking wasn’t just good for opening doors; it also smoothed out a lot of relationship missteps and even softened a few breakups.

  Simon’s elf hacked up the goblins before they could get anywhere near Mark or Angelo.

  “I’ve got to say, he’s pretty good with melee combat for a tech writer. They’re usually more the magic and ranged weapons type.” As he said that, a goblin axe took Mark’s human fighter down to zero life.

  “I don’t think you’ve got a lot of room to talk about combat right now.”

  Thanks, he messaged to Simon.

  No problem. :)

  * * *

  Angelo set out the tray of cookies at 10:12 a.m. so all would be available when Simon came in. He usually saved cookie combos for the holidays, but Mark’s comments about not eating in front of people had gotten him thinking. The tray held rows of shortbread, ginger snaps, sugar cookies, coconut cookies, crunchy brown-sugar oatmeal, and almond biscotti half dipped in dark chocolate. Each was carefully shaped to be ideal for dipping in tea.

  He sat down at his desk and turned to his monitor. He’d attached the little rearview cubicle mirror he’d gotten as a secret Santa gift. At 10:15 a.m. Simon walked into the kitchen, put an Earl Gray teabag into his cup, filled it with hot water, and left.

  Angelo pressed his face to his desk. Why am I doing this to myself?

  At 10:16 a.m. he sent an office e-mail announcing cookies in the third-floor kitchen. They were gone by ten thirty.

  At 10:37 a.m. he got an e-mail from Simon.

  It’s official. Half-Life 3 is out on Friday! Do you have plans for the weekend?

  Angelo grinned. I do now.

  * * *

  Fruitcake

  * * *

  If Angelo had to recreate the color of Simon’s eyes in frosting, he’d go for cornflower blue as a base, with possibly a couple drops of royal blue and maybe even a tiny drop of black. They had a habit of shifting colors, making it hard to decide on a mix. Under the office florescent lights, they looked quite gray, but in the warm golden light of the bar, they became a true blue.

  He usually didn’t go to end-of-the-month company drinks, but Simon had mentioned he’d be going. He watched Simon sip his vodka martini. He wasn’t sure if Simon ordered the martini because he looked cool drinking it or if he liked the taste, but it left Angelo annoyingly turned on. Most people at the bar were drinking beer or wine, and a couple guys from marketing were doing shots. A few of the guys from testing were relaying a story to Simon about a drunken bet from the previous year’s holiday
party that ended in half the design team standing on the roof in their underwear, trying to play Jenga with loaves of Angelo’s fruitcake.

  Simon laughed, the warm and bright sound filling the bar. He turned toward Angelo. “How much fruitcake did you make?” He was still smiling.

  “Just a few.” Someone else at the table gave a very unattractive snort. “People like to take one or two home in case company comes over. They’re not hard to make.”

  “I don’t think I know anyone who actually likes fruitcake.”

  “I don’t make mine too intense. I can make you one.”

  Simon’s smile faltered for a second. “It’s okay. I’ll pass.”

  Simon finished his drink and excused himself for the night a few minutes later. Normally Angelo would go as well, but he felt a sulk coming on and ordered another beer. Beer wasn’t his favorite drink, especially to get drunk on, but he knew better than to mix drinks.

  Mark sat down next to him. “Have you considered just asking him out?”

  “Have you ever known me to make a successful pass if there isn’t pastry involved?”

  “Maybe it’s time to try.”

  “Okay, why do you even give a rat’s ass?” Angelo snapped, knowing Mark wouldn’t care if he let out some frustration at him. “Seriously you’ve known me for like a decade. Since when have you ever cared about my love life?”

  “Since Karen decided that we need couple friends to do couple things with, like wine tasting and Comic-Con.”