13. Marshall

Chapter 13

Marshall

As much as Marshall truly loved working at The Hot Plate, it was also true to say that not every day was a perfect ten. Far from it, in fact. And as Marshall dropped a plate stacked with pancakes onto the floor, he let out an exasperated sigh.

‘Crap,' Marshall said, blushing as he realized that the whole diner was momentarily looking at him. ‘Sorry guys! Looks like I need a new pair of hands!'

However as much as Marshall was trying to put a brave face on things for his regulars, the truth was that the morning's service had been rotten from start to finish.

One particular lowlight had involved a pair of super-fussy tourists who complained about everything from start to finish and then threatened to leave a bad Google review unless they were given a full refund. This was a step too far for Marshall and he strongly sensed that they were trying to take advantage so stubbornly refused to give the refund .

And speaking of the two out of town buttholes, Marshall figured that as soon as he was done clearing up the dropped pancakes he would need to message Max to let him know what had gone down. After all, if they did go through with their threat to leave a one star review, then Marshall wanted Max to know the full story sooner rather than later.

A few moments after finishing off the cleanup, Marshall stepped outside the diner onto the Eagle Ridge strip and took a seat on a spare outdoor table. Fortunately for Marshall, the promise of rain that day hadn't yet come to pass and he was able to write out the message in the warm sun.

MARSHALL: Hey there, boss. Just a quick heads-up to say that we had a couple of *seriously* awkward customers this morning. I tried my best to make things right with them but to be honest I think they were looking for a refund no matter what. I'm happy that I was polite, and everything was on point… and that's why I refused the refund. Seriously, it's been a BAD morning so far. Come back soon LOL.

Marshall allowed himself a little wry smile as he sent the message. Despite the fact that his and Max's relationship had crossed the line between boss and employee on a couple of occasions, there was no denying that Max was a good man and a good boss too. The fact that Max was a Daddy did kind of complicate things, but ultimately Marshall felt like he was a stand-up guy who he could trust.

And Marshall's faith in Max was soon repaid as he opened his response to his message .

MAX: Hey, Marshall. Okay first off… screw those guys. I know you would have done your best, and that's good enough for me. Don't for a second let them make you think you're anything other than a Grade A Diner Queen. Secondly, I think you should give yourself a break for half an hour. Let the other staff get on with things and just take some time to yourself. I know how manic the diner can get, and you've been taking on a lot with me away. Speaking of which… I'll be back later this morning.

MARSHALL: Wait… what? You didn't think to tell me that you were back today?

MAX: Ha, you know I like to keep you on your toes, Marshall. Now put your phone away and take that damn break. I'll catch up with you when I'm home.

With that, Marshall duly put his phone away and took a moment to take Max's messages in. As expected, Max was super-cool about the incident with the out of town couple. But the fact that Max was returning suddenly gave Marshall pause for thought.

I'm glad Max's back to take over again.

But… will it be weird ?

I've got Zane now, and I know what Daddies can be like sometimes…

However before Marshall could get too deep in his thoughts about two testosterone-filled Daddies going up against one another, his attention was taken by the flashing of lights and the blaring of sirens as the sheriff's car blazed past the diner.

‘What the…' Marshall muttered, far more used to seeing the sheriff's car slowly cruising rather than burning rubber down the strip.

And unfortunately, a speeding cop car was soon to be the least of Marshall's concerns…

Just as Marshall was about to pop back inside the diner to pick up a glass of cold lemonade for his thirty minute break when he looked up and saw the unwelcome sight of Tag Rackvill walking toward him. Except this time, Tag wasn't alone. Walking alongside Tag was an expensively-suited man who was carrying the kind of shiny brown leather briefcase that Marshall instinctively knew was something legal.

Marshall took a deep breath and steadied himself. Now was not the time to let his fear take control.

Deep breaths.

Don't let them see that you're scared.

You're Marshall Pentland, no one messes with you.

‘What do you want?' Marshall asked, wasting no time and trying to take control of the interaction. ‘Because I'm on my break and don't have time for more crap from you. '

Marshall's heart was beating hard and fast, but he was confident that his feisty attitude would keep Tag at bay.

‘Not in the mood for our usual back and forth banter then, I see,' Tag said, his smug smirk making Marshall want to throw one of the diner's apple pies into his face. ‘I'll get to the point. I've been in discussions with my lawyer, and my political contacts. It's time that your parents give up the fight and sell me their house. Because if they don't, we're talking about a legal battle that will last for years. I'm talking about the kind of financially ruinous legal fight that would send most people under. Now tell me Marshall, can your sweet little parents handle year after year after year in the courts? Have they got the money? Have they got the will to spend their retirement up against me?'

Marshall was so angry at what Tag was implying. Tag was a horrible bully and there was little more to it than that. In a fit of anger, Marshall stomped his foot on the floor and then made a move to run back inside the diner.

But the problem of being so overwhelmed with anger and frustration was that Marshall lost his balance and tripped over the doorstep, his wrist bending painfully as he hit the ground.

‘ Awwwwww !' Marshall cried out, hating the fact that this happened in Tag's sneering view.

Fortunately for Marshall he was quickly surrounded by well-meaning customers from the diner. But that didn't take away from the fact that Tag had delivered the kind of news that Marshall had always dreaded. The truth was that Tag Rackvill was stepping up his campaign to buy Marshall's family home, and all of a sudden there didn't seem to be a single thing that Marshall could do to stop him.

Marshall felt lost, in pain, and utterly helpless.

In that moment what Marshall needed more than anything else was a Daddy to look after him and tell him that everything was going to be alright.

A couple of hours later and Marshall was still recovering from his horrible morning. Sitting on his favorite beanbag up in his apartment and with his sprained wrist bandaged, Marshall was happy to be snuggling with Beachie.

Marshall's wish to be looked after by a Daddy had also come true, albeit it wasn't Zane who had stepped into he fore…

‘Thanks, Max,' Marshall said, gratefully taking the mug of hot chocolate from him. ‘You didn't have to come up and check in on me. I'm fine. Honestly.'

‘Hey, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't look after my favorite Little?' Max chuckled as he took a seat on the beanbag opposite Marshall. ‘It's not like I've got too much to catch up on. From what I can see, you've done a great job in looking after the diner in my absence. Seriously, you did great.'

‘Even taking into account my morning from hell?' Marshall asked, rolling his eyes and letting out the first giggle since everything had gone down with Tag .

‘Yup, even considering your morning from hell,' Max smiled, a look of real kindness in his eyes. ‘Trust me, I've been there myself. Many a time in fact. But I'm worried about this Tag sonofabitch. I kind of assumed he was just like all the other pushy out of town property developers. You stand your ground, and they give up and move onto somewhere else. But he seems different. And not in a good way.'

Marshall could see the pensive look on Max's face, and it was evidently clear that he was taking Tag seriously. The last thing Marshall wanted was for his parents to become embroiled in a long and draining legal fight, but at the same time it would be horrible beyond words if they were bullied into selling their cherished home.

‘I hate this so much,' Marshall said, momentarily getting a little teary. ‘I love my mom and pop so much. They had a bad time for so long, and I just want them to enjoy their retirement in peace.'

‘Hey, we'll work something out,' Max said, standing up from the beanbag and moving to give Marshall a hug.

However just as Max was wrapping his arms around him, Marshall heard his apartment door open.

‘Zane!' Marshall exclaimed, blushing as he moved away from Max. ‘You're here.'

‘I am,' Zane replied, a look of shock on his face. ‘But you've got company. I came as soon as I saw your message. I guess that wasn't quick enough for you.'

‘Huh?' Marshall replied, not understanding why Zane was being so abrupt .

‘I'll see you later,' Zane barked. ‘Or whenever. I'm out of here.'

With that, Zane simply turned and left the apartment without uttering another word. And the way Zane shut the door very firmly was enough to confirm that he wasn't happy about something.

‘I don't get it,' Marshall said. ‘Did I do something?'

‘Who the hell was that guy?' Max asked.

‘I'm not sure I even know the answer to that myself,' Marshall replied, his bottom lip wobbling.

Suddenly, Marshall's mind was spinning once more.

Where had the kind, caring, and sensitive Zane that he had grown so fond of disappeared to. The way Zane seemed to snap into a whole other person when he saw Max at the apartment wasn't a good look at all.

Marshall knew that Daddies could be possessive and full of machismo, but the fact was that Marshall was hurt and needed his Daddy to step up and be there for him. The way Zane just behaved made Marshall wonder whether he might not be the man – or Daddy – that he believed he was.

All of a sudden, the morning from hell looked like it was about to turn into a disastrous day all round.