Hot Potato

47. Mac and Cheese

After we had toasted Garth's arrest, I looked up from my glass. "Another oh-my-God wine, Dunc. So complex and balanced, so mouth-filling – almost as if I can chew the bubbles."

He chuckled. "Delightful way to describe the mousse, Gigi. But yes, a wonderfully creamy mouthfeel – comes from spending eight years on the lees before disgorgement. They just released it to the market this summer."

"Another fifteen-hundred-dollar wine?"

"No, only a quarter of that; it's not as rare as the Montrachet."

"Hmmm." Marcy savoured another sip. "Seems a crime to have mac and cheese with it."

He shook his head. "This is only to celebrate Garth's demise – and with that now done, we've bubbles to sip while we work. We'll find a better match for dinner."

A while later, Dunc and Marcy sat on stools at their computers on one side of the island, and I stood on the other. As I grated more cheese into the roux and tasted, I looked up and warmed to see him watching me. "Am I distracting you from your work, Dunc?"

"You've been a huge distraction to me since I first saw you." He chuckled. "But I've finished double-checking. Everything's properly done and in place for the closing, and I'm now enjoying watching you create. That, and trying to figure out how you're going to scale it up for the restaurants."

"We'll do large batches in a steam kettle and keep warm. Then plate, top with crumbs, spritz with olive oil and place in the salamander for final heating and browning."

"So, not baked?"

"Technically, with the salamander, it can be called baked on the menu, but it's too complex for a restaurant oven – not enough control. But here, I'll put this in a Pyrex or whatever and into the oven. What have you?"

Dunc pointed. "In that cupboard, there's a selection of Le Creuset."

Later, with the casserole baking, Dunc poured the rest of the Champagne into our three glasses, and we sat to help Marcy fine-tune the job descriptions. Then unable to concentrate, I asked, "What'll they do with Garth?"

"Hold him in lockup until his trial. With false ID added to the extortion, criminal harassment and intimate images offences, he's ineligible for bail."

"Will I have to appear at the trial?"

"No, Marcy." Dunc shook his head. "No, they've more than sufficient evidence to show you had not given consent."

"Whew! That's a relief."

"Indeed. In his computers, they'll likely find other women he's similarly wronged."

"Hmmm! Hadn't thought about that." I winced. "Probably none of them realising they're spread all over the web."

"Yeah, just think – I would never have found us if I weren't into searching for large clits." Marcy blushed; then she shrugged. "You've seen the vids of it, Dunc, so what the hey? I now thank God my parents had the wisdom to resist the surgery recommendations. But tough years of believing I was a freak – a boy with a veejay or a girl with a dick. No images of the size variation on the web back then. But thousands now, including hundreds of vids with new additions almost daily."

"But likely few of them with consent."

"No, it's the opposite, Dunc. Most of them are faceless selfies, close-ups of manipulating and showing off their size. Proud, as I eventually became." Marcy pointed to our computers. "But back to the Google doc. Let's see if we can finish polishing these descriptions before dinner."

By the time Marcy was satisfied with the job descriptions and had closed her computer, the heady aromas of baking cheese filled the kitchen, and I checked the timer. "A little over five minutes to go, but the smell belies that." I opened the door to see the crust had turned to deep gold with tinges of brown. "Appears done. Your oven seems a bit hot, Dunc."

"Yeah, about ten degrees. Forgot to tell you. Sorry."

I turned the oven off and left the door open. "No problem. Have you an exuberant viognier or a buttery chard?"

"How about an Okanagan viognier, a Stag's Hollow or a Terravista?"

"Ooh! Terravista's my fave. Always have a bottle in the fridge – the 2015, now."

"A wonderful vintage. I'll go get one and lay the table."

A couple of minutes later, after Dunc had seated us in the dining room, he brought the casserole in and set it on a trivet. Then as he took off the oven mitts, he asked, "Should we serve ourselves? Or should I serve?"

"Your serving us suits the atmosphere, Dunc." Marcy swivelled her head again. "I've not before been in such an exquisite setting. So masculine, yet so elegant."

"Thank you. Among my attempts to satisfy a craving for romance – replace the loneliness of solitary life with things of beauty and rarity and with the wonder of nature."

He sighed and took my hands in his. "I hope I no longer have to replace the loneliness."

Oh, God! The tingling.

<><><>

Points to consider in this chapter:

What do you think of Marcy's confession about searching for porn?

Do you get a sense of the dining room's decor and atmosphere?

If you enjoyed this chapter, please click the star to let me and Wattpad know.