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|Burnt Sugar - Part 1 (standard:romance, 2188 words) [1/7] show all parts|
|Author: damnation||Updated: Jan 23 2010||Views/Reads: 1501/620||Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Kitchen humour, drama and mystery are blended to form a complex cocktail of romantic love between Frances and Kristen.|
Disclaimers: This is an alternate fiction which portrays loving relationships between people of the same gender. Please do not go further if this offends you because you offend me. Do not re-post this anywhere else without the permission of the author. That would be me, yes. The plotline and all characters belong to me. Thanks to somebody (you know who you are), I have been extremely enthralled by the Otalia arc in Guiding Light, so some of my characters might physically resemble the two very stunning individuals in the famous pairing--except that in this case, they are mine to play with. Burnt Sugar - Part 1 by d a m n a t i o n firstname.lastname@example.org Prologue Mist hung over the Hoan Kiem lake in the early hours of dawn. A pair of jeans clad legs raised slowly onto a bench seat and pulled close to a heaving chest, wet cheeks and quivering lips, bracketed by a pair of arms. There was hardly anyone around this part of the lake even though most of the Old Quarters in Hanoi had already awakened to a new day. Frances Russell blew out a breath before wiping a sleeve across her face. It was the third anniversary of her mother's death but she wept as though no time had passed since Marie Garcia was taken away from her in a fatal car crash. Indeed, the first six months to a year after her mother's death had flown by in such a blur that there were times Frances had to question if she had dreamt it all up. Frances lowered her right leg briefly as she dug into her jeans pocket for a folded piece of paper. It was something that she had written for her mother. Upon locating it, she leaned forward on the bench and ignited her lighter. The naked flame caught the paper and ate up her words slowly. Then, before it fully burned away, Frances stood up and dropped the very last bit of the still burning paper into the lake. She pressed her palms flat together and brought her hands to touch her nose and lips as she murmured, "I miss you, Mum," under her breath. Then she stuck her hands in her jeans pockets and blew out a heavy breath. She was on the next flight back to Australia and it wasn't exactly a trip she was looking forward to. 1 Kevin Russell shot his soon to be ex-employee, Alison, a disdainful look when she threw her apron onto the bench in a huff. She was the third girl in a fortnight to have quit, not turned up for work, or thrown a hissy fit before stalking out of Taters. He just managed to smother a yawn when she stormed out, leaving a trail of obscenities in her wake. "Show's over, folks," he announced to the stunned patrons of his little cafe restaurant. "You can return to your meals now." Stalking back into the kitchen, Russell reached for the bottle of bourbon on the shelf beside him and took a swig. "Uh... Boss?" a tentative voice interrupted him mid-swallow. "I don't mean to say this but... there's no one out front now that, uh, you- Alison's gone...." Russell finished swallowing the bourbon and slowly wiped an arm across his lips. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled loudly. Good help was extinct these days. He turned around to meet the rather frightened gaze of John Ramsey, one of the two chefs who worked under him. Click here to read the rest of this story (202 more lines)
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