Part 23: link
While Merlin is having his rather stunned conversation with Gaius, the phone rings at Excalibur again.
“Calling back to yell at me some more?” Gwaine says into the phone, not even bothering with a hello.
“How did te know it was me?” Gwen asks, laughing.
“Because no one rings here before 10 a.m.”
“I suppose not.”
“And I suppose te want to talk to Drag now,” Gwaine says, trying his hardest to sound forlorn.
“Yes, please, darling, if te can summon His Royal Highness to the phone, I would be most appreciative.”
Gwaine laughs now, and hands the receiver out towards Arthur. “For you.”
Arthur takes it from him. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Good morning again,” she says, smiling.
“So he liked it, then?” Arthur asks, getting right to the point.
“Read it twice he loved it so much. Wants more. He’s talking to Merlin right now, actually.”
“Why did te need to have Merlin go back to the pub?”
“Quieter there. te blokes are noisy, and if te were tattooing someone, those things are loud.”
“Ah. I imagine he’ll be bursting back in here before long. Will have to peel that idiot off the ceiling da the end of the day.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Gwen laughs at the image. “Arthur, there’s più good news.”
“There is?”
“Mr. Gaius was impressed da my editing as well. te were right, sweetheart.”
“Of course I was,” he says, grinning broadly. “And that’s fantastic! So what does that mean for you?”
Gwen smiles hearing the excitement in Arthur’s voice. “He’s dato me another manuscript to edit. I think it’s a test.”
“Of course it is. And you’ll pass with flying colors.”
“But Arthur, it’s that problem author. The one I was telling te about that night in the pub?”
“The autore that had his knickers in a twist because his… what te call it… ‘vision’ had been buggered?”
“Butchered.”
“Right. His?”
“Yeah,” she sighs. Arthur hears a beeping sound in the background. “Hang on one minute,” Gwen says, and pops him on hold.
Must have gotten another call.
Gwen returns just in time to hear Arthur Canto softly to “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing.” She laughs, shocked that he would even know the song.
“Your hold Musica is rubbish,” he says, recovering.
“You were Canto along.”
“Repetitive song. Easy to pick up.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she says noncommittally.
“So. Gaius gave te this manuscript…”
“Arthur, sorry, but I can’t stay on the line too long for personal calls. I’ll tell te all about it tonight. In short, there’s an editor in domanda on thin ice and I think I may be in line to replace him.”
“Wow, that is amazing news, Sweet!” He pauses. “What time do te have lunch?”
“12:30.”
“I’ll be there at 12:25. I’m taking te to lunch.”
“Okay. See te then.”
“Later.”
As predicted, Merlin comes bounding through the doors, followed da Leon, just as Arthur hangs up the phone. He immediately tackles Arthur in a tight hug, nearly knocking him over.
“Whoa, there, Nancy, I’m spoken for,” Arthur laughs, hugging his friend back. “Well done, mate,” he adds, slapping his shoulder once Merlin releases him.
“Your girlfriend is amazing, Drag! She somehow got Will Gaius to read my novel! And he loved it! He loved it! I’m going to meet him tomorrow! Oh God… Tomorrow… I’m going to die…” he collapses into Arthur’s chair.
Arthur just chuckles at him and hands him a cup of tea.
“You knew, didn’t you?” Merlin recovers his sense enough to ask.
“Of course. It was her idea, though. All I did was make sure that she followed through.”
“I need to get her something. A present. Anyone know how much the crown jewels are going for these days?”
“Merlin, what te need to be doing is finding your other manuscripts,” Leon says, leaning against Gwaine’s counter. Gwaine nods in agreement.
“He’s got more?” Gwaine asks.
“Yeah, at least two. Sorry, mate, ran across them when I was looking for some paperwork for my dad. Didn’t read them,” Leon says.
“Would have been fine if te had,” Merlin waves him off, drinking his tea, calming down.
“I suppose this means I’ll need to find another barman, too,” Leon sighs. “First Ox, now you.”
“Hey, don’t rain on Merlin’s parade!” Gwaine says, punching Leon in the arm.
“Sorry, just occurred to me. Sorry, Merls.”
“It’s all right. It occurred to me already, too. I’ll hang around as much as I can, but if I’m to be slaving away over my typewriter like a proper novelist, well…” his face breaks into its familiar broad lopsided grin again.
“Who’s a proper novelist?” Phil asks, finally emerging from the apartment upstairs.
“Nice of te to unisciti us, Phil,” Gwaine comments. His sister greets him with a rude hand gesture and goes to her workstation.
“Merlin’s getting published,” Leon says, smiling at her.
“Cool. Well done, mate,” she says, granting him one of her rare smiles.
“Thanks, Phil. I know from te that is indeed high praise,” Merlin grins, and she actually snorts a small laugh despite herself.
“She’s in a good mood, for her. Go talk to her,” Gwaine whispers to Leon.
“Not the right time. This is Merlin’s morning,” Leon mutters back.
“Excuses.”
“Piss off.”
“Oh yeah, Merlin, I should tell you. Guinevere, um, edited your manuscript before she gave it to Gaius,” Arthur continues.
“What? So she read it?”
“Well, yeah. I don’t know how she got her hands on it, but she wanted to read it first before passing it along to Gaius.”
“In case it was total dreck, te mean.”
“Yeah,” Arthur admits. “Lucky for te she loved it. Couldn’t put it down. But she did say that te don’t know how to use a comma properly.”
Merlin laughs now. “She’s probably right. So the manuscript she gave to Gaius was all marked up, then?”
Arthur nods. “She’s benefiting as well. Gaius was as impressed da her editing as he was da your writing.”
“That’s fucking brilliant!”
Arthur laughs now. “I’m glad te think so, too, ’cause that’s what I told her. He’s dato her another one to modifica as a test.”
“She’s going to be an editor?” Merlin’s already bright eyes light up even further.
“Quite likely. So it appears you’re helping each other out, mate.”
“Still gotta get her a present. Here,” Merlin pulls out his wallet and hands some bills to Arthur. “Get her something from me.”
“Merlin…” Arthur doesn’t take the money.
“Take it. I don’t know what she likes and te do. Get her something from me.”
“She’ll say it’s unnecessary,” he says, but he takes the money.
“Well, tell her that I say it is.”
“I’m actually taking her to lunch today, so maybe I’ll knock off early and hit a few shops before then.”
12:20 p.m. finds Arthur standing inside the main lobby of Taliesin Publishing, looking around.
“Can I… help you?” the receptionist asks him suspiciously, eyeing the strange punk man standing in her lobby with a large bunch of daisies and a small parcel.
“Um, yes, I hope so. I’m looking for Guinevere Degrance.”
“You have a delivery for her?” she asks, noting his belongings.
She thinks I’m a courier. “Something like that. I’m taking her to lunch, if te must know,” he says, trying a smile on the middle-aged woman, hoping that she’ll stop being so superior with him.
She points to the lift. “Fourth floor,” she sighs.
“Thank you,” Arthur says, smirking once his face is out of her sight. I can well imagine her thoughts. ‘The young people these days, what is he world coming to?’ He pushes the button and waits.
He emerges into another lobby, smaller than the one downstairs, but well-appointed. It appears that Will Gaius has the entire floor to himself. He smiles as he sees Guinevere behind a large desk, chatting on the phone and Scrivere something down. She doesn’t see him.
Arthur walks forward, holding the fiori in front of his face when he gets to the desk.
“Yes, we will be in touch soon. Thank you. Good afternoon,” she finishes her call and looks up, yelping in surprise.
“Arthur! te startled me!” she says when he peeks around the flowers.
“These,” he hands them to her, “are from Merlin.”
She takes them from him and says, “He didn’t need to do that.”
“That’s what I told him, but he insisted. And,” he hands her a small rectangular box, “this is from both of us.”
She sighs and gives him a sideways look. “What is this, now? te are both unbelievable.”
Gwen opens the box to find a beautiful pen, red and oro with a G engraved on the clip. She lifts it out and twists it so the nib extends from the bottom, smiling all the while. Lowering it to her pad, she draws a line. It writes beautifully smooth and it’s neither too heavy nor too light, the barrel neither too thick nor too thin. The ink is red.
“I Amore it. It’s perfect,” she looks up at him and smiles.
“Thought te could use a shiny new weapon.”
“Guinevere, I’m off to my lunch with—oh, hello,” Gaius emerges from his office, stopping when he sees a strange young man standing there talking to his receptionist.
“Afternoon, sir,” Arthur nods at the older man.
“Mr. Gaius, this is my boyfriend, Arthur. He’s come to take me to lunch.”
“Ah, yes, the famous boyfriend of whom I recently learned. And he came bearing gifts, I see,” Gaius smiles, stepping inoltrare, avanti and extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, young man.”
“Pleasure to meet te as well, sir,” Arthur says, shaking his hand.
“Well, I’m off. One does not keep Uther Pendragon waiting, te know,” he says, placing a hat on his head of white hair.
“Indeed not, sir,” Gwen says, bending to look for a vase so he doesn’t see her shocked face.
“And young man, take good care of this young lady. Good receptionists are hard to find, te know. And keeping them is even harder,” he adds with a cryptic wink.
“I will, sir, enjoy your lunch,” Arthur says casually. And why don’t te help my father pull his head out of his backside while you’re there, he adds mentally.
The elevator doors close, and Gwen stares at Arthur. “That was…”
“Strange,” Arthur finishes.
“To say the least. I honestly did not know that my boss was acquainted with your father.”
“Not entirely surprising since my father knows most of the high-profile men in business around here,” he shrugs. “I’m sure Gaius there has some large accounts that Father’s people are handling. Come on. I’m hungry.”
“Me, too. Let me get some water for these first, though.”
“Hey, what’s the story with the receptionist downstairs? Is she always that uptight?” Arthur calls after her.
He hears her laugh, and she comes back with a vase half-filled with water. “She has a perpetual bug up her bum.” She places the fiori in the water, sets them in a prominent place on her desk, hits a button on the phone and starts to come out from behind the desk.
“Wait,” she spins around and puts her new pen back in its box before tucking it into a drawer for safekeeping. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“So he didn’t come out and say that I’ll get Ben’s job if I do well, but the implication was definitely there,” Gwen says, taking one più bite of her sandwich, panino before setting it down. “Ugh. Full.”
Arthur reaches for the discarded quarter-sandwich, eliminating half of it in one bite. “Sounds like you’re poised for an office of your own pretty soon, Sweet.”
“Provided I don’t bugger up this blasted manuscript. It’s going to be a hard one, I think.”
“But te detto yourself that this Ben bloke is a crap editor. So maybe the book isn’t that bad and he really did mangle it.”
“Possible,” she says, idly stirring her limonata with her straw.
Arthur takes her hand. “You need to have più faith in yourself. Didn’t te just prove to your boss that te are phenomenally brilliant?”
Gwen laughs, “I don’t know if I would say ‘phenomenally brilliant,’ but he was impressed.”
“See, there, was that so hard?”
“Yes, but there’s a fine line between confident and cocky, te know.”
“Is there?”
“Yes, and te march right along that line constantly,” she says, laughing again.
“And I do so proudly,” he grins, sitting up straight in his chair.
Gwen just rolls her eyes at him, which just makes him preen even more. The waitress drops off the bill, and Gwen notices the young woman’s eyes lingering on him for just a tad longer than they should. Cow, she finds herself thinking.
Arthur chuckles at her as he pulls his wallet out.
“I can pay for myself,” she offers.
“Nonsense. I detto I was taking te to lunch. That means I am paying. That’s the rule.”
“But—”
“No arguments, Guinevere.”
She sighs heavily, più of a humph than a sigh. “I’m making te cena tonight, then. What’s your preferito thing?”
“You.”
“To eat, I mean.”
“Still you.”
“You are impossible.”
He grins. “Steak.”
“Thank you. And what with it?”
“Make that pasta we had that day.”
“Okay.”
“And Brussels sprouts.”
“Really?”
The waitress returns and Arthur hands her the bill and some money, indicating that the change is hers to keep. “Yes, really.”
“Strange. And dessert, obviously.”
“Obviously,” he says, standing and offering her his hand. She takes it and stands and they exit the restaurant, Arthur’s arm around her. He leans over and kisses the superiore, in alto of her head just as they pass their waitress, and Gwen cannot stop the smug smile that creeps across her face as the other girl watches them pass.
Gwen doesn’t stop at the pub o Excalibur after work, going to the market instead. She picks up everything she needs for dinner, including ingredients for a recipe called triple Cioccolato bliss cake that she’s been wanting to try.
Arthur has instructions to arrive at 7:30, but he is knocking at the door at ten past.
“You are so predictable,” Gwen says as she lets him in. “I knew te would be early,” she says as he pulls her into his arms for some kisses hello.
“Sorry, I was bored. Merlin’s not happy, te know. He wanted to see you.”
“Oh, sorry! I should have known! But… I have an idea.”
“About what?” Arthur releases her and follows her to the kitchen, where he immediately sees the cake and makes a beeline.
“Hands off the cake,” she warns. “It’s still cooling.”
He scowls and plops down at the table. Gwen hands him a stack of plates and silverware. “Make yourself useful.”
“So your idea?” he prompts, setting the table.
“Merlin has Thursday nights off, right?”
“Yeah.”
“We go out to celebrate. Dinner. And we invite Freya.”
“Brilliant,” he turns and smiles at her. “Do we tell them?”
“Not sure. What do te think?” she asks, turning her attention back to the pasta, mixing in the parmesan cheese.
“I think we keep it a secret. te invite Freya, I’ll invite Merlin, and we meet there,” he grins fiendishly.
“Nice. You’re devious, te are.”
She brings the Cibo to the table. The steaks are perfect, the pasta as good as he remembered it being, and he is blown away da the sprouts cooked in garlic and chicken broth.
“I knew te were a good cook, Guinevere, but this is better than that swank place Morgana took us to,” he says, inspecting a bite of his perfectly-cook bistecca speared on the end of his fork, lovely and rosa in the middle.
“My mum is actually an excellent cook, and both El and I spent a lot of time with her in the cucina when we were kids,” she comments, then looks up, her eyes wide. “Shit! She’s supposed to be calling tonight!”
Arthur laughs. “So talk to her if she calls,” he shrugs. “I don’t mind.”
“Thanks,” she says, but she doesn’t exactly sound grateful.
“I can tie te to the letto again, if you’d rather.”
Now Gwen laughs. “No, I’ll need to get it over with at some point.”
They are just finishing, and the phone rings, as if on cue.
“Go,” Arthur says. “I’ll clean this up.”
Excellent, I get out of cleaning up the mess, Gwen thinks, standing. Just before she picks up the phone she calls, “Don’t te dare touch that bloody cake! We’ll have it after!”
“Shit,” she hears him curse softly from the kitchen.
“Hello,” she answers.
“Hi, Gwen,” her mother greets her. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I? It took te a bit to answer.”
“No, just finishing dinner, actually.” She plops down on the sofa.
Arthur listens to Gwen’s half of the conversation while he washes the dishes, suppressing the urge to run his finger through the thick Cioccolato ganache taunting him from atop the cake, shiny and smooth and smelling of heaven itself.
“Yes, it was fun. He’s doing really well. The customers Amore his desserts.”
A pause.
“No, not yet. He’s happy enough, yes.”
“I don’t know, he didn’t mention one and I didn’t ask. If te want to find out about his Amore life, ask him.”
She continues, giving her mother the rundown of events from her trip. I notice she doesn’t go into great detail. She’s polite but not overly friendly. Guarded. Doesn’t trust her, and I don’t really blame her.
“His name is Arthur.”
Arthur’s ears prick up at the mention of his name.
“Pendragon.”
“Yes, Mum, he is, but, um, they’re not really on good terms. It’s a bit complex.”
“No, Mum. Yes, I know the reasons, but I’m not going to be airing his dirty laundry.”
“Of course he does. I’m very happy.”
“I told te already, he’s an artist.”
“He does tattooing, but just to pay the bills. His actual artwork is completely amazing.”
Thank you, my love.
“Dad already checked him out, da the way.”
There is a long pause, and Arthur comes from the cucina and Gwen scoots her feet up so he can sit da her on the couch. He pulls her feet into his lap and watches her. She looks puzzled. Her mother is telling her something interesting. Surprising. Maybe even shocking?
“When?”
“I didn’t even know te were seeing someone.”
“Well, you’re always too busy digging into my life to tell me about yours, te know.”
Whoa. What’s going on? He looks at her, and she makes and exasperated face.
He rubs her feet gently, waiting, trying to figure out what the mystery is.
“I’ll try, that’s all I can say. Some things are happening for me at work and I can’t promise I’ll be able to get away.”
“I guess I’m… kind of auditioning for a promotion, for lack of a better term. Mr. Gaius is giving me a trial manuscript to edit.”
“Thanks, I am excited. And nervous. So, um congratulations, then, I guess, though I’m still mainly surprised.”
“All right. Let me know.”
“Love you, too. ’Bye.”
She stretches backward and hangs the phone up and looks at Arthur, his thumb running along the muscles of her arch.
“She’s getting married.”
“That cake was amazing,” Arthur says, his fingertips tracing small circles on her back as they lay entwined in Guinevere’s bed.
“You’re still basking in Cake Afterglow?” she asks, lifting her head to look at him. “Even after we just finished thoroughly punishing my bedsprings?”
“It was really good. And te are still amazing, Sweet. Don’t think I’ve replaced te with cake.” He leans over and kisses her, lingering over her lips.
“I will always carry that fear with me, Arthur,” she teases.
“Oh, I don’t think te have anything to worry about,” he says, his hand sliding down her back to cup the curve of her backside. “You are far superior to cake in several ways.”
“Well, that’s certainly comforting,” she says, snuggling against him with a yawn.
“Tired?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she nods her head and cuddles closer still, her head on his shoulder. He looks down at her, her eyes closed, face relaxed, hair swept back in a loose braid. She looks innocent and beautiful, and his cuore lurches a little.
He reaches over, carefully, and switches off the small bedside lamp. As Gwen drifts off to sleep, Arthur’s mind drifts back to his conversation with Tom yesterday after church.
“So, Pendragon, how are things in the exciting and glamorous world of body art?” he had asked, appearing and sounding pleasant enough, but Arthur caught the undertone.
“You’re making fun of me, sir,” he replied carefully.
“And te are smarter than te look. Which is why I’m staying on your, um, backside.”
“I know. You’re worried about your daughter’s future. I understand that. I’m not good enough for you; you’ve made that abundantly clear.”
“Smile, she’s looking,” Tom warned, even chuckling.
Arthur smiled obediently before taking another bite of his pastry.
“It’s not a domanda of whether you’re good enough, Arthur. No one is. Surely te know that.”
“I do, sir. And I agree, if te must know. I want to be better for her. I want…”
Tom fixed him in the hawk-like stare he’s perfected throughout his years with the police. “Exactly how long have te been in Amore with my daughter?”
Part 25: link
While Merlin is having his rather stunned conversation with Gaius, the phone rings at Excalibur again.
“Calling back to yell at me some more?” Gwaine says into the phone, not even bothering with a hello.
“How did te know it was me?” Gwen asks, laughing.
“Because no one rings here before 10 a.m.”
“I suppose not.”
“And I suppose te want to talk to Drag now,” Gwaine says, trying his hardest to sound forlorn.
“Yes, please, darling, if te can summon His Royal Highness to the phone, I would be most appreciative.”
Gwaine laughs now, and hands the receiver out towards Arthur. “For you.”
Arthur takes it from him. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Good morning again,” she says, smiling.
“So he liked it, then?” Arthur asks, getting right to the point.
“Read it twice he loved it so much. Wants more. He’s talking to Merlin right now, actually.”
“Why did te need to have Merlin go back to the pub?”
“Quieter there. te blokes are noisy, and if te were tattooing someone, those things are loud.”
“Ah. I imagine he’ll be bursting back in here before long. Will have to peel that idiot off the ceiling da the end of the day.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Gwen laughs at the image. “Arthur, there’s più good news.”
“There is?”
“Mr. Gaius was impressed da my editing as well. te were right, sweetheart.”
“Of course I was,” he says, grinning broadly. “And that’s fantastic! So what does that mean for you?”
Gwen smiles hearing the excitement in Arthur’s voice. “He’s dato me another manuscript to edit. I think it’s a test.”
“Of course it is. And you’ll pass with flying colors.”
“But Arthur, it’s that problem author. The one I was telling te about that night in the pub?”
“The autore that had his knickers in a twist because his… what te call it… ‘vision’ had been buggered?”
“Butchered.”
“Right. His?”
“Yeah,” she sighs. Arthur hears a beeping sound in the background. “Hang on one minute,” Gwen says, and pops him on hold.
Must have gotten another call.
Gwen returns just in time to hear Arthur Canto softly to “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing.” She laughs, shocked that he would even know the song.
“Your hold Musica is rubbish,” he says, recovering.
“You were Canto along.”
“Repetitive song. Easy to pick up.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she says noncommittally.
“So. Gaius gave te this manuscript…”
“Arthur, sorry, but I can’t stay on the line too long for personal calls. I’ll tell te all about it tonight. In short, there’s an editor in domanda on thin ice and I think I may be in line to replace him.”
“Wow, that is amazing news, Sweet!” He pauses. “What time do te have lunch?”
“12:30.”
“I’ll be there at 12:25. I’m taking te to lunch.”
“Okay. See te then.”
“Later.”
As predicted, Merlin comes bounding through the doors, followed da Leon, just as Arthur hangs up the phone. He immediately tackles Arthur in a tight hug, nearly knocking him over.
“Whoa, there, Nancy, I’m spoken for,” Arthur laughs, hugging his friend back. “Well done, mate,” he adds, slapping his shoulder once Merlin releases him.
“Your girlfriend is amazing, Drag! She somehow got Will Gaius to read my novel! And he loved it! He loved it! I’m going to meet him tomorrow! Oh God… Tomorrow… I’m going to die…” he collapses into Arthur’s chair.
Arthur just chuckles at him and hands him a cup of tea.
“You knew, didn’t you?” Merlin recovers his sense enough to ask.
“Of course. It was her idea, though. All I did was make sure that she followed through.”
“I need to get her something. A present. Anyone know how much the crown jewels are going for these days?”
“Merlin, what te need to be doing is finding your other manuscripts,” Leon says, leaning against Gwaine’s counter. Gwaine nods in agreement.
“He’s got more?” Gwaine asks.
“Yeah, at least two. Sorry, mate, ran across them when I was looking for some paperwork for my dad. Didn’t read them,” Leon says.
“Would have been fine if te had,” Merlin waves him off, drinking his tea, calming down.
“I suppose this means I’ll need to find another barman, too,” Leon sighs. “First Ox, now you.”
“Hey, don’t rain on Merlin’s parade!” Gwaine says, punching Leon in the arm.
“Sorry, just occurred to me. Sorry, Merls.”
“It’s all right. It occurred to me already, too. I’ll hang around as much as I can, but if I’m to be slaving away over my typewriter like a proper novelist, well…” his face breaks into its familiar broad lopsided grin again.
“Who’s a proper novelist?” Phil asks, finally emerging from the apartment upstairs.
“Nice of te to unisciti us, Phil,” Gwaine comments. His sister greets him with a rude hand gesture and goes to her workstation.
“Merlin’s getting published,” Leon says, smiling at her.
“Cool. Well done, mate,” she says, granting him one of her rare smiles.
“Thanks, Phil. I know from te that is indeed high praise,” Merlin grins, and she actually snorts a small laugh despite herself.
“She’s in a good mood, for her. Go talk to her,” Gwaine whispers to Leon.
“Not the right time. This is Merlin’s morning,” Leon mutters back.
“Excuses.”
“Piss off.”
“Oh yeah, Merlin, I should tell you. Guinevere, um, edited your manuscript before she gave it to Gaius,” Arthur continues.
“What? So she read it?”
“Well, yeah. I don’t know how she got her hands on it, but she wanted to read it first before passing it along to Gaius.”
“In case it was total dreck, te mean.”
“Yeah,” Arthur admits. “Lucky for te she loved it. Couldn’t put it down. But she did say that te don’t know how to use a comma properly.”
Merlin laughs now. “She’s probably right. So the manuscript she gave to Gaius was all marked up, then?”
Arthur nods. “She’s benefiting as well. Gaius was as impressed da her editing as he was da your writing.”
“That’s fucking brilliant!”
Arthur laughs now. “I’m glad te think so, too, ’cause that’s what I told her. He’s dato her another one to modifica as a test.”
“She’s going to be an editor?” Merlin’s already bright eyes light up even further.
“Quite likely. So it appears you’re helping each other out, mate.”
“Still gotta get her a present. Here,” Merlin pulls out his wallet and hands some bills to Arthur. “Get her something from me.”
“Merlin…” Arthur doesn’t take the money.
“Take it. I don’t know what she likes and te do. Get her something from me.”
“She’ll say it’s unnecessary,” he says, but he takes the money.
“Well, tell her that I say it is.”
“I’m actually taking her to lunch today, so maybe I’ll knock off early and hit a few shops before then.”
12:20 p.m. finds Arthur standing inside the main lobby of Taliesin Publishing, looking around.
“Can I… help you?” the receptionist asks him suspiciously, eyeing the strange punk man standing in her lobby with a large bunch of daisies and a small parcel.
“Um, yes, I hope so. I’m looking for Guinevere Degrance.”
“You have a delivery for her?” she asks, noting his belongings.
She thinks I’m a courier. “Something like that. I’m taking her to lunch, if te must know,” he says, trying a smile on the middle-aged woman, hoping that she’ll stop being so superior with him.
She points to the lift. “Fourth floor,” she sighs.
“Thank you,” Arthur says, smirking once his face is out of her sight. I can well imagine her thoughts. ‘The young people these days, what is he world coming to?’ He pushes the button and waits.
He emerges into another lobby, smaller than the one downstairs, but well-appointed. It appears that Will Gaius has the entire floor to himself. He smiles as he sees Guinevere behind a large desk, chatting on the phone and Scrivere something down. She doesn’t see him.
Arthur walks forward, holding the fiori in front of his face when he gets to the desk.
“Yes, we will be in touch soon. Thank you. Good afternoon,” she finishes her call and looks up, yelping in surprise.
“Arthur! te startled me!” she says when he peeks around the flowers.
“These,” he hands them to her, “are from Merlin.”
She takes them from him and says, “He didn’t need to do that.”
“That’s what I told him, but he insisted. And,” he hands her a small rectangular box, “this is from both of us.”
She sighs and gives him a sideways look. “What is this, now? te are both unbelievable.”
Gwen opens the box to find a beautiful pen, red and oro with a G engraved on the clip. She lifts it out and twists it so the nib extends from the bottom, smiling all the while. Lowering it to her pad, she draws a line. It writes beautifully smooth and it’s neither too heavy nor too light, the barrel neither too thick nor too thin. The ink is red.
“I Amore it. It’s perfect,” she looks up at him and smiles.
“Thought te could use a shiny new weapon.”
“Guinevere, I’m off to my lunch with—oh, hello,” Gaius emerges from his office, stopping when he sees a strange young man standing there talking to his receptionist.
“Afternoon, sir,” Arthur nods at the older man.
“Mr. Gaius, this is my boyfriend, Arthur. He’s come to take me to lunch.”
“Ah, yes, the famous boyfriend of whom I recently learned. And he came bearing gifts, I see,” Gaius smiles, stepping inoltrare, avanti and extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, young man.”
“Pleasure to meet te as well, sir,” Arthur says, shaking his hand.
“Well, I’m off. One does not keep Uther Pendragon waiting, te know,” he says, placing a hat on his head of white hair.
“Indeed not, sir,” Gwen says, bending to look for a vase so he doesn’t see her shocked face.
“And young man, take good care of this young lady. Good receptionists are hard to find, te know. And keeping them is even harder,” he adds with a cryptic wink.
“I will, sir, enjoy your lunch,” Arthur says casually. And why don’t te help my father pull his head out of his backside while you’re there, he adds mentally.
The elevator doors close, and Gwen stares at Arthur. “That was…”
“Strange,” Arthur finishes.
“To say the least. I honestly did not know that my boss was acquainted with your father.”
“Not entirely surprising since my father knows most of the high-profile men in business around here,” he shrugs. “I’m sure Gaius there has some large accounts that Father’s people are handling. Come on. I’m hungry.”
“Me, too. Let me get some water for these first, though.”
“Hey, what’s the story with the receptionist downstairs? Is she always that uptight?” Arthur calls after her.
He hears her laugh, and she comes back with a vase half-filled with water. “She has a perpetual bug up her bum.” She places the fiori in the water, sets them in a prominent place on her desk, hits a button on the phone and starts to come out from behind the desk.
“Wait,” she spins around and puts her new pen back in its box before tucking it into a drawer for safekeeping. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“So he didn’t come out and say that I’ll get Ben’s job if I do well, but the implication was definitely there,” Gwen says, taking one più bite of her sandwich, panino before setting it down. “Ugh. Full.”
Arthur reaches for the discarded quarter-sandwich, eliminating half of it in one bite. “Sounds like you’re poised for an office of your own pretty soon, Sweet.”
“Provided I don’t bugger up this blasted manuscript. It’s going to be a hard one, I think.”
“But te detto yourself that this Ben bloke is a crap editor. So maybe the book isn’t that bad and he really did mangle it.”
“Possible,” she says, idly stirring her limonata with her straw.
Arthur takes her hand. “You need to have più faith in yourself. Didn’t te just prove to your boss that te are phenomenally brilliant?”
Gwen laughs, “I don’t know if I would say ‘phenomenally brilliant,’ but he was impressed.”
“See, there, was that so hard?”
“Yes, but there’s a fine line between confident and cocky, te know.”
“Is there?”
“Yes, and te march right along that line constantly,” she says, laughing again.
“And I do so proudly,” he grins, sitting up straight in his chair.
Gwen just rolls her eyes at him, which just makes him preen even more. The waitress drops off the bill, and Gwen notices the young woman’s eyes lingering on him for just a tad longer than they should. Cow, she finds herself thinking.
Arthur chuckles at her as he pulls his wallet out.
“I can pay for myself,” she offers.
“Nonsense. I detto I was taking te to lunch. That means I am paying. That’s the rule.”
“But—”
“No arguments, Guinevere.”
She sighs heavily, più of a humph than a sigh. “I’m making te cena tonight, then. What’s your preferito thing?”
“You.”
“To eat, I mean.”
“Still you.”
“You are impossible.”
He grins. “Steak.”
“Thank you. And what with it?”
“Make that pasta we had that day.”
“Okay.”
“And Brussels sprouts.”
“Really?”
The waitress returns and Arthur hands her the bill and some money, indicating that the change is hers to keep. “Yes, really.”
“Strange. And dessert, obviously.”
“Obviously,” he says, standing and offering her his hand. She takes it and stands and they exit the restaurant, Arthur’s arm around her. He leans over and kisses the superiore, in alto of her head just as they pass their waitress, and Gwen cannot stop the smug smile that creeps across her face as the other girl watches them pass.
Gwen doesn’t stop at the pub o Excalibur after work, going to the market instead. She picks up everything she needs for dinner, including ingredients for a recipe called triple Cioccolato bliss cake that she’s been wanting to try.
Arthur has instructions to arrive at 7:30, but he is knocking at the door at ten past.
“You are so predictable,” Gwen says as she lets him in. “I knew te would be early,” she says as he pulls her into his arms for some kisses hello.
“Sorry, I was bored. Merlin’s not happy, te know. He wanted to see you.”
“Oh, sorry! I should have known! But… I have an idea.”
“About what?” Arthur releases her and follows her to the kitchen, where he immediately sees the cake and makes a beeline.
“Hands off the cake,” she warns. “It’s still cooling.”
He scowls and plops down at the table. Gwen hands him a stack of plates and silverware. “Make yourself useful.”
“So your idea?” he prompts, setting the table.
“Merlin has Thursday nights off, right?”
“Yeah.”
“We go out to celebrate. Dinner. And we invite Freya.”
“Brilliant,” he turns and smiles at her. “Do we tell them?”
“Not sure. What do te think?” she asks, turning her attention back to the pasta, mixing in the parmesan cheese.
“I think we keep it a secret. te invite Freya, I’ll invite Merlin, and we meet there,” he grins fiendishly.
“Nice. You’re devious, te are.”
She brings the Cibo to the table. The steaks are perfect, the pasta as good as he remembered it being, and he is blown away da the sprouts cooked in garlic and chicken broth.
“I knew te were a good cook, Guinevere, but this is better than that swank place Morgana took us to,” he says, inspecting a bite of his perfectly-cook bistecca speared on the end of his fork, lovely and rosa in the middle.
“My mum is actually an excellent cook, and both El and I spent a lot of time with her in the cucina when we were kids,” she comments, then looks up, her eyes wide. “Shit! She’s supposed to be calling tonight!”
Arthur laughs. “So talk to her if she calls,” he shrugs. “I don’t mind.”
“Thanks,” she says, but she doesn’t exactly sound grateful.
“I can tie te to the letto again, if you’d rather.”
Now Gwen laughs. “No, I’ll need to get it over with at some point.”
They are just finishing, and the phone rings, as if on cue.
“Go,” Arthur says. “I’ll clean this up.”
Excellent, I get out of cleaning up the mess, Gwen thinks, standing. Just before she picks up the phone she calls, “Don’t te dare touch that bloody cake! We’ll have it after!”
“Shit,” she hears him curse softly from the kitchen.
“Hello,” she answers.
“Hi, Gwen,” her mother greets her. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I? It took te a bit to answer.”
“No, just finishing dinner, actually.” She plops down on the sofa.
Arthur listens to Gwen’s half of the conversation while he washes the dishes, suppressing the urge to run his finger through the thick Cioccolato ganache taunting him from atop the cake, shiny and smooth and smelling of heaven itself.
“Yes, it was fun. He’s doing really well. The customers Amore his desserts.”
A pause.
“No, not yet. He’s happy enough, yes.”
“I don’t know, he didn’t mention one and I didn’t ask. If te want to find out about his Amore life, ask him.”
She continues, giving her mother the rundown of events from her trip. I notice she doesn’t go into great detail. She’s polite but not overly friendly. Guarded. Doesn’t trust her, and I don’t really blame her.
“His name is Arthur.”
Arthur’s ears prick up at the mention of his name.
“Pendragon.”
“Yes, Mum, he is, but, um, they’re not really on good terms. It’s a bit complex.”
“No, Mum. Yes, I know the reasons, but I’m not going to be airing his dirty laundry.”
“Of course he does. I’m very happy.”
“I told te already, he’s an artist.”
“He does tattooing, but just to pay the bills. His actual artwork is completely amazing.”
Thank you, my love.
“Dad already checked him out, da the way.”
There is a long pause, and Arthur comes from the cucina and Gwen scoots her feet up so he can sit da her on the couch. He pulls her feet into his lap and watches her. She looks puzzled. Her mother is telling her something interesting. Surprising. Maybe even shocking?
“When?”
“I didn’t even know te were seeing someone.”
“Well, you’re always too busy digging into my life to tell me about yours, te know.”
Whoa. What’s going on? He looks at her, and she makes and exasperated face.
He rubs her feet gently, waiting, trying to figure out what the mystery is.
“I’ll try, that’s all I can say. Some things are happening for me at work and I can’t promise I’ll be able to get away.”
“I guess I’m… kind of auditioning for a promotion, for lack of a better term. Mr. Gaius is giving me a trial manuscript to edit.”
“Thanks, I am excited. And nervous. So, um congratulations, then, I guess, though I’m still mainly surprised.”
“All right. Let me know.”
“Love you, too. ’Bye.”
She stretches backward and hangs the phone up and looks at Arthur, his thumb running along the muscles of her arch.
“She’s getting married.”
“That cake was amazing,” Arthur says, his fingertips tracing small circles on her back as they lay entwined in Guinevere’s bed.
“You’re still basking in Cake Afterglow?” she asks, lifting her head to look at him. “Even after we just finished thoroughly punishing my bedsprings?”
“It was really good. And te are still amazing, Sweet. Don’t think I’ve replaced te with cake.” He leans over and kisses her, lingering over her lips.
“I will always carry that fear with me, Arthur,” she teases.
“Oh, I don’t think te have anything to worry about,” he says, his hand sliding down her back to cup the curve of her backside. “You are far superior to cake in several ways.”
“Well, that’s certainly comforting,” she says, snuggling against him with a yawn.
“Tired?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she nods her head and cuddles closer still, her head on his shoulder. He looks down at her, her eyes closed, face relaxed, hair swept back in a loose braid. She looks innocent and beautiful, and his cuore lurches a little.
He reaches over, carefully, and switches off the small bedside lamp. As Gwen drifts off to sleep, Arthur’s mind drifts back to his conversation with Tom yesterday after church.
“So, Pendragon, how are things in the exciting and glamorous world of body art?” he had asked, appearing and sounding pleasant enough, but Arthur caught the undertone.
“You’re making fun of me, sir,” he replied carefully.
“And te are smarter than te look. Which is why I’m staying on your, um, backside.”
“I know. You’re worried about your daughter’s future. I understand that. I’m not good enough for you; you’ve made that abundantly clear.”
“Smile, she’s looking,” Tom warned, even chuckling.
Arthur smiled obediently before taking another bite of his pastry.
“It’s not a domanda of whether you’re good enough, Arthur. No one is. Surely te know that.”
“I do, sir. And I agree, if te must know. I want to be better for her. I want…”
Tom fixed him in the hawk-like stare he’s perfected throughout his years with the police. “Exactly how long have te been in Amore with my daughter?”
Part 25: link