The Day She Showed Up (Stuart -1)

Part 1 - The Day She Showed Up 

Stuart will never forget the day she showed up. It was not the first time women would show up on his doorstep. After all, he was a minor celebrity for at least three years now, and the famous Australian accent lured the innocent maidens, like the Piped Piper in the old fairytale. Except no one could find him here, since he bought and moved to this small farm in Virginia, close enough to get to DC under one hour. The farm in Virginia was Izzie's idea, she yapped so much about it, that one day Stuart thought, why not, and just did it. If Izzie would ever buy a farm in Virginia, it will be the size of that mansion in Hudson Valley, complete with a sizable tobacco plantation for all Nick's cigar needs. Sorry, not within Stuart's budget. His own five acre farm with a small but relatively new house on the top of the hill was exactly what the doctor ordered.

He blinked again, as he stared at the same text, "What time are you coming home?" Of course, he panicked. How could he not? A woman he met online three months ago just casually asked, when he's coming bloody home! He stumbled into his small office and slammed the door. That didn't stop Sarah, his sous, to knock on the door and step inside without waiting for his permission.

"Are you alright, Chef?" The plastic container with ice water she brought with her meant one thing only, she noticed everything. Everything he tried to hide.

"I need five." Stuart takes a sip but the cold water doesn't help a bit. Stuart counted on his fingers, one hour there, one hour back. Ahem! "Actually, I need three hours, better four."

"The service is in four, you can't leave it on me. What the hell is going on?" Sara's hands planted firmly on the edge of his desk, her head cocked inquisitively. 

"Someone is at my house." Stuart tap-taps his phone, eyes downcast. 

"Like broke in? Do you see anything on camera?"

"Right, the camera. Thank you, Sarah." He flips through the apps on his phone, three times back and forth before he finds the bloody camera. The porch camera that is pointed towards the driveway. And there she is, sitting on the ground, back against the mulberry tree, hot pink sneakers propped on the blue carry-on. Hot pink, her favourite colour, same as the dress on that picture she sent him a week ago. Whisky Tango Foxtrot, as Nick always says!

"Do you know her?" Sarah picks over to get a better look.

"Sort of." Good question, what did he really know of her. Somehow he's not surprised to see her. The trail of crumbs he kept dropping, intentionally and unintentionally, the town news, the street name, three mulberry trees in the front. She joked once, that there was only a handful of homes on his short street, and probably, if she will zoom in, and look for a house with a swing on the front porch, not too far from the road to watch his jogging neighbour Jess, and the old white woodshed in the back. But that would be too creepy, right? Fuck, she's getting a major spanking, as soon as he gets his hands on her. Oh, the things he will do to her, when he will get his hands on her... 

Stuart clears his throat, "Sarah, I think I left the stove on. At home, that is."

"Yeah, right. Stuart? You're so fucked, you can't leave me alone, not today. When will you stop thinking with your dick?"

"Cock! Don't raise your voice or you will spend the rest of the day prepping vegetables!"

"I thought you need me on the pass, Chef," Sarah snorts. "So you can go home and fuck her." 

"How can I leave her there? May I remind you what time we finish??" Stuart roars loud enough to bring in another spectator.

"Chefs?" Ricardo nudges the door open. "Where do you want the branzinos?"

"Up your bloody ass! Yours and anyone else's who will dare to open this door!"

"Put them in the walk-in, Ricardo. I will be right out." Sarah closes the door shut before Stuart jumps Ricardo's throat. "Doesn't your neighbour Jen have an extra key?"

"Jess. Brilliant. What would I do without you?" Stuarts leans for a quick peck on the cheek, but Sarah swirls away from him. He dials Jess. No answer. "Fucking voicemail!"

"I ask myself the same question every fucking day, Stuart. Show some appreciation."

"Jessica dearest," Stuart holds his hand up as he coos into the phone. "There is a lady in front of my house. Would you be so kind to let her in and show her around? I will owe you a four-course dinner, and if you will feed her, I will... Hiiii, Jess, I was leaving you a message. Yes, the dick next door, that's me. Nope, you're not in charge of the brothel I'm running. Yes, absolutely. I swear, it's the last time ever."

The last time ever. His own words hit him like a brick wall. He looks up at Sarah and smiles like an idiot. "Ask anything."

"Croissants from Bouchon every morning." Sarah snaps back without missing a bit.

"No can do. Besides, Antoine's croissants are better. Anything else?" Stuart wiggles one eyebrow, the way only Stuart can. 

"Just go, and fuck her faster, or whatever you straight people do." Right, talking to his disappearing back again.

"Yes, ma'am." Stuart hollers from the hallway.

My lovely readers, sorry we didn't get to the actual spanking part yet. 

I'm trying something new. Though, Chef Stuart and his sous Sarah were already part of Nick and Izzie verse, Stuart deserved his own love interest. That deserves a looong spanking. So, sit tight for the next instalment.