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Chapter 3

My spoiled rich kid got even more spoiled when we got home. I put on one of my old waitress uniforms and slipped on a pair of stockings and stiletto heels. While I cooked supper, he sat at the table watching me, and I made sure to bend over to look for ingredients several times, each time giving him a flash of the top of my stockings.

I didn’t neglect what he really wanted to see, my braces. I still hadn’t taken a look at them, so I didn’t know what they looked like yet. My tongue got quite a workout exploring them, and he got to watch as I ran my tongue over the brackets frequently. My teeth hadn't started aching yet, but I knew from when our daughter had braces that my teeth would get sore, so I made one of the meals they used to enjoy.

Eating wasn’t as easy as I expected, and I spent a lot of time trying to dislodge food from my braces, which he seemed to enjoy watching. He was spending so much time watching me, his plate hardly got touched.

After wrapping his plate so he could eat it later, I told him it was time for me to brush my teeth and he could watch as long as he behaved himself. Brushing my teeth with braces was a whole new experience, and oddly, made much more enjoyable by having my husband watching me. Each time I bent over to spit or rinse, he got a glimpse of more than just my stocking tops, and a few times I caught him extending his hands toward what he was seeing. I just grinned and let him know he would have to be patient. I also got a good look at my new braces, and the look of the bulky brackets and dark ligatures holding the archwires in place appealed to me.

I had seen how thorough he had been, making sure our daughters had done a good job brushing their teeth, and I wanted him to do the same for me, with a few variations. The first was how long I wanted him to take doing it. The second was the positions we would be in. I had him sit on the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor, then I put my head on his lap. I don't know where he found the lamp, but it had a fully articulating arm and a lens to focus the light to a point, just like they use in the orthodontist's office, only smaller.

With his lap acting similar to the headrest of the orthodontist's chair, he was able to see everything in my mouth and move my head around to get the best view possible. He had a surprise waiting for me. He pulled a set of instruments from the drawer of the night table and removed a tiny mirror from the case so he could see how the bands fit around my back teeth, in better detail. My first evening in braces was turning out to be even better than I had hoped, and it was still early.

His visual inspection became more thorough as he used another of the tools to very gently probe behind the archwires to check for any food left after I brushed. I had spent extra time brushing just to tease him and he didn't find anything. There was one more thing I wanted him to do. I let him take as long as he wanted inspecting my braces, before I pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips, putting him in the ideal position for him to use his tongue to make sure my braces were clean.

My position above him also freed his hands to explore the areas he had been reaching for in the bathroom, and all he had to do was unfasten a few buttons. There wasn't anything else in the way.




As more of the new restaurant was put in place, they hired more part-time staff. The Hostess was busy training more hostesses and had more than enough to do with getting the new restaurant ready, so I was promoted and given the job of training the new waiters and waitresses. I came up with a fun way to make the training realistic without putting pressure on the new staff.

Each week, I held a training session in the new restaurant and invited anyone who worked in the building to come. Everyone who came got a piece of paper to write a possible scenario on and place in a box. All the new waiters and waitresses were given a number, and when everyone was ready, I took a scenario from the box and we acted it out, sometimes doing more than one at the same time. Anyone whose number wasn't drawn became a customer.

The kitchen staff and busboys weren't excluded either. I had one of the staff members draw numbers and the people with those numbers were the serving staff for that scenario. Some of the scenarios were funny, such as the screaming baby, and others were a little more intense, such as the pregnant woman going into labour. Even the kitchen staff were involved. We used pink forms to designate a practice order and the kitchen staff had to keep track of how long it was supposed to take before the order was ready, then place the form on a plate to be delivered to the table. Even though they didn't have to make anything for a customer, they still had to manage their time while still working.

It wasn't just the floor staff who showed up. Management came as well, and they used the time to listen to what the employees said. The kitchen manager's new assistant was particularly helpful. Sometimes she showed up wearing her legbraces, and other times she came in her wheelchair. She taught the staff how to properly serve someone with a disability, and the most important thing everyone learnt was that not everyone with a visible difference is disabled. She demonstrated it by challenging some of the waiters to try serving the 'customers' while using a wheelchair, and did the job right alongside them.

The Seamstress also showed up frequently, usually in a costume and we never knew how she was going to act. When she did 'rich woman with an attitude', there were a few embarrassed looks from some of the owners, and some changed the ways they did things. Everyone had fun when she did 'the drunk bride-to-be', even the busboys who had to clean up the mixture of cold pea soup and vegetables left on the floor.

What really stood out was the number of people with braces and orthodontic appliances that took part each week. The new people usually had retainers and were still getting used to wearing them. The staff who had been around for a while and had just been fitted with their braces were easy to spot too. They were the ones either trying to hide their braces or still learning how to get their lips over the brackets. Sometimes I cheated when the numbers were drawn and appointed them to be the waiters and waitresses for the evening.

My husband didn't always join me for those evenings, and when he did, we always played the older couple on a date. We didn't make it easy on the staff, deliberately getting caught with my husband running his tongue over my braces while we kissed and let our hands stray. They didn't know just how much fun we were really having, and most of the time, we weren't acting, we were treating it like a real date.




When the Seamstress and the Hostess asked me to help them with a presentation to the owners about the uniforms, I leapt at the chance, and got my husband involved as well. We designed a uniform similar to what I had worn when I first was a waitress and added a few minor touches to update it a little. My older-style braces were the touch that really pulled everything together. Of course, we had to try it out in the bedroom, and both of us enjoyed what happened.

Chapter 8

Despite being around people with braces all day, I've always seen them as just part of the uniforms they are wearing. It's never occurred to me that there is more to having braces than just wearing them for treatment, for some of the people in the building.

Birdy’s braces display has an effect on me that I’m not prepared to deal with. It’s been a while since I’ve had a pretty girl sitting on my lap, and even longer since I’ve had my hand on the leg of one so willing to allow me to be so close to her. I’m also realizing she is using her braces in a way I wasn’t expecting.

It's impossible for me to hide my body's response to the display she is putting on, with her sitting on my lap, and her smile gets bigger as she adjusts how she is sitting. I'm trying to figure out how to apologize to her for acting inappropriately when she says, "Thank you for asking me for a date. It's been a long time since anyone has treated me with the respect you have so far this evening. You probably don't realize just how special the meal you prepared for us was. Nobody has ever created a meal for me, designed to be shared the way this meal has been."

Her eyes begin to sparkle as they get moist and I can see her fighting back the tears that are forming. “What is even more special to me is that you haven’t treated me as if I am a cripple. You’ve made me feel like the woman I am.”

I move my hand underneath hers on her leg and she giggles again. “I did say you might end up with me on your lap if you weren’t careful what you did with your hands, I just didn’t expect it to be quite like this.” Her hand moves from covering mine to the side of my face. “I’ve been hinting that I want you to be the first guy I kiss after getting my braces, so if it’s okay with you, will you let me?”

I’m really not in a position to object, nor am I inclined to refuse the request. When I don’t say anything, she takes it for consent and leans toward me, a single tear running down her nose and landing on my lips just before her lips contact mine. Our first kiss is tentative and brief, with her pulling away first. I pull her closer to me with the arm supporting her back, and this time I initiate the kiss. She shifts her position so she is more comfortable, and my hand on her leg slides up the outside of her leg and under her skirt. Her lips part slightly and her braces brush against my lips.

We’re interrupted by a knock on the door. Birdie moves her head away enough to say, “Come in,” and our waitress enters. She takes one look at us and turns the switch on the wall to ‘Do Not Disturb’. Her face has a pretty pink flush to it as she turns back to us and says, “It’s been quiet in here for a while. I just wanted to see if you wanted anything for dessert, but it doesn’t look like you’re quite ready for that yet. Just let me know if there is anything I can get you.”

Birdie giggles and says, “Would you mind bringing me my wheelchair? I’m not sure how stable I’m going to be on my crutches and I’d rather not take the chance of hurting myself.”

As soon as we have the room to ourselves again, Birdie runs her tongue over her braces and says, “Now, where were we? I think I had my braces against your lips and you were about to use your tongue to feel them before kissing me the way I should be kissed to experience being kissed for the first time while I’m wearing braces.”

I press my lips against hers again, and her new brackets graze my lips before I follow her directions and add a slight twist by running my tongue along the inside of her teeth as well. It’s hard to tell who is getting more enjoyment from our second first kiss, and it doesn’t really matter.




I let Birdie decide when she’s been kissed the way she wants to be kissed, and she isn’t in any hurry to stop. Her position on my lap gradually changes as she presses more of our upper bodies together, relying on me to support her. I’m beginning to think I’m doing something wrong, until she moves her lips away from mine and says, “Wow, that kiss was so much better than I imagined it would be.” She quickly brushes her lips against mine and asks, “So you think you can put me in my chair now?”

I grin and reply, “I don’t think it would be very polite for me to stand up right now.”

Her grin matches mine as she leans away from me and pulls her chair next to us, depending on my arms to support her. I swivel in my seat to line her up with her wheelchair and my hand slides along the outside of her leg as she transfers to her chair. As her leg slides beneath my hand, I caress it until my hand reaches her knee and she pauses as I trace along the scars covered by her stocking.

Her hand grazes the front of my pants as she settles into her wheelchair and she’s grinning as she says, “Thank you. Do you want me to leave while you adjust yourself?”

I smile sheepishly. “I was hoping I could use the handles on the back of your chair to pretend to push your chair and hide it behind you.”

She has a big grin on her face as she says, “That’s not going to work. I don’t have any handles. You can put your hands on my shoulders and it will look as if you are pushing me that way.” She waits as I stand up, then turns so she is facing away from me and I put my hands on her shoulders. Her head tilts back against me and she grins as she asks, “Ready to give it a try?”

I smile at her. “You’re making it hard for me, you know that?”

Her gold brackets and bands are on full display as she says, “I know, so just enjoy the view while you can.”




We don’t make it very far before someone in the restaurant begins to laugh and someone else begins to clap. I try to ignore the whispered comments of, ‘It’s about time’, and ‘It took him long enough,’ coming from some of the staff and regular customers. As we pass the hostess station, Birdie asks her to store her crutches until later, when she will pick them up. She places her hands on top of mine on her shoulders and says, "To the office James."

I smile down at her, dividing my attention between admiring her braces and the amount of cleavage showing between the edges of her blouse. Her hand leaves mine just long enough for her to wave it across the elevator keypad before covering my hand with hers on her shoulder again.

As the door to our office locks behind us, she points to the office chair and asks me to sit down so we can talk eye to eye. “I want to thank you properly for taking me on a date.” She parks her chair beside me and uses the desk to stand, letting her left leg dangle until she settles on my lap with her shorter leg away from my chest.

I thought our first kiss was good, but she takes everything she learnt from it and puts her entire body into showing her appreciation for taking her on the date. Without the risk of being caught, I take the time to explore her braces thoroughly. It takes a while before she loosens her grip on my neck and I can move my mouth away from her enough to say, “Thank you. You’ve given me a whole different understanding of how to kiss a woman.”

Chapter 10

The second investor's evening is a family night. They are all encouraged to bring their children, and for the older members, that includes their grandchildren. The menu is expanded to include dishes designed for younger people with braces.

The kitchen staff inform me ahead of time my place is on the floor watching how things are working, not in the kitchen. In reality, they don’t want me in their way while they are working. They’ve talked to Birdy and she is enforcing the ‘no boss in the kitchen’ ultimatum for them. Once again, I wonder just who is running the office around here. It sure doesn’t seem to be me.

The restaurant has a different feel to it this time, less formal and more family-orientated. The uniforms are still varied, just better suited to a family environment. The smiles are still there and quite a few have coloured ligatures and elastics, giving a more festive atmosphere. Someone on the maintenance crew replaced some of the white bulbs with coloured ones in the walkways and there are little pools of colour all over the place.

Birdy tells me to walk around a little and talk to some of the customers to get a feel of what they think of the place. Despite my best efforts, I can’t seem to remember very many of their names and do what I can to talk to them without making a fool of myself. Birdy takes pity on me and takes over by greeting them and letting me ask for their opinions of the new place. She has her tablet handy and makes notes as we circulate among the tables.

Almost everyone who attended the first evening says how much fun they had and they wish we would do it again sometime. Many of them thank me for all the effort I put into arranging it, and when I try to give the credit to Birdy, I quickly learn she doesn’t want it, preferring to say it was a team effort.

All of the effort Charlene, our new head waitress, put into her training program shows. When kids spill their drinks or food ends up on the floor, someone is there to clean it up right away. The tables are cleared efficiently and new customers are seated soon after. Even the tables with customers who are sitting and talking after their meal are cleared without any interruption.

Birdy has the same table we had the first evening reserved for us and we enjoy our meal, along with the rest of the guests. After the last guest has left, she has another informal staff meeting, and once again, she spends more time listening than she does talking.




The file of notes from the two evenings is smaller than I thought it would be, and Birdy has taken care of many of the things of concern already. Most of what's left is related to the kitchen, which is my department.

Birdy rolls into my office looking very lovely, dressed in one of Tabi's creations. Having an in-house seamstress is paying off, and it shows in how the staff are dressing. She's been signing all her work with a small black cat stitched on the right pocket or collar of everything she creates.

My assistant has a smile on her face as she hands me a letter with a company name I am familiar with. She's already read it and I can see the reason why she's smiling as I read it. I've been invited to a supper meeting at the hostess's apartment and they would like to know when I have time to go.

She's practically bouncing in her chair with excitement as she explains, "Her boyfriend was very impressed with how the two evenings went. He wants to discuss a business opportunity with you." It's obvious she is talking about the Hostess and her boyfriend. "They were going to just drop by and talk to you, but Tabi and I suggested they make it a formal request. I'm supposed to go with you and Tabi's been invited too."

Her excitement is infectious, so I ask, "Can you set it up for tonight? We can order from the kitchen if it will make things easier." She does a wheelie and spins her chair around, and I am treated to a display of her outfit from every angle. Tabi's work really is amazing. Birdy's outfit is tailored to give her ease of movement in her chair and still look professional. The chair and leg braces blend in and become a part of her total look.

Even though we both have phones on our desks, she never seems to use hers to call me when I am in the office, preferring to visit my office. No matter what I am doing, it becomes less important than talking to her. It feels as if a ray of sunshine has entered the room as she rolls through the door. The gold bands around her teeth are sparkling as she says, “They will be available after 6 pm and Tabi is going to join us, so we have to stop at her place before we go. Be prepared to spend a good part of the evening upstairs, it could take a while to answer all the questions we are going to be asking.”




Birdy makes sure we lock the office a little early and head upstairs to Tabi’s place. I haven’t seen her apartment yet, and she is eager to give us a tour. At the front of her place is a display window with a few of her creations on mannequins. The inside of her shop is a tidy mess. She has samples of materials arranged on one wall and spread across a table where clients can choose the fabrics they want. One corner has lights arranged so the cameras can take shadowless pictures for the computer program she uses to design the outfits to their precise dimensions. Through a doorway is her workroom. One wall has a rack with rolls of fabric stacked on the shelves, and the wall across from it and much of the floor has all her sewing machines and tools handy for her to use. A track in the ceiling holds a heavy curtain that can be pulled out to create a changing room when needed, leaving the space open for when she uses it to check the fit of her creations.

She touches a button and a section of the wall slides away, revealing a second entrance to her apartment. They both smile at the look on my face. Her living room is not what I expect of someone with her rather risque taste in clothes. It feels as if I've stepped into my great-grandmother's house, with comfortable-looking furniture from that era just waiting for me to relax in it. Whoever painted the room is an artist at heart, using shades of paint to give it the look of antiquity to match the furniture.

Her kitchen is as modern as it is possible to be. Stainless steel appliances are everywhere and it is all spotless. I wish I had a kitchen as well equipped as hers is, even the kitchen in the restaurant isn’t as well equipped as this.

Off of the living room is her greenhouse and it is still a work in progress, with plants growing everywhere. I can see all the work she is putting into creating the space she envisions in her mind.

Her bedroom is a mess, with clothes everywhere. It is just what I expect of someone who makes clothes for a living and I have to explain to them why I am laughing. “This is the one room in this place that is just the way I expected it to be. Everything else is so tidy.”

Her studio is a wonder to behold. She opens the door and it feels as if I am stepping outside the building. The outside wall is painted to look identical to the view through the windows and it is hard to tell where the windows end and the wall begins, until I step to the side and my perspective shifts.

The tour of the place has taken a while and it is getting close to the time we are supposed to meet with the Hostess and her boyfriend. As we pass through the living room, I look at where the doorway to her shop was, and it has disappeared. Birdy laughs at the look on my face and says, “It is still there if you know where to look.”

The apartment next door is completely different. Her boyfriend's influence is apparent throughout the place. It looks as if a woman has decorated it with the goal of making her boyfriend want to be there with her. The furniture all looks comfortable and durable, meant to be used to entertain. I can see signs that he spends quite a bit of time here, and a glance through the open doors shows he has a bedroom here.

We sit around the table and enjoy one of our premium-priced braces-friendly meals while talking about things other than the restaurants and the building. The ladies sit together, with our host sitting beside me so we can chat. Birdy keeps stroking my leg underneath the table until I take it and place it on her leg instead, then trap her hand with mine on her leg.

Using the round table is a good choice, with everyone having easy access to the food without having to disturb the conversations, and nobody feels like the odd person by being stuck at the end of the table. Dessert is another selection from our premium braces-friendly menu, and I notice Birdy isn’t the only one sharing a plate, our Host is being fed forkfuls of dessert by his girlfriend too.

The ladies excuse themselves to brush their teeth, and Birdy asks me to get her crutches for her. I provide a bent arm to balance herself with and I’m rewarded with a kiss on the cheek.  The others laugh when I try to turn my head and connect with her lips and she says, “Later, when we are alone.”

Our host waits until the ladies return and Birdy is sitting beside me, to start his business presentation. "I'm going to keep this casual. Interrupt me any time you have a question." It sets the mood and we all relax. "I have a few business associates with too much money and arguably, too few brain cells. They've eaten at the restaurant over the years and they've been impressed with what you've done with the place since you took over."

“When I told them what you did at the investor's dinners, the few brain cells they share between them came up with the idea to open a restaurant of their own. This part of the plan I can understand. They want to buy a franchise of ‘Sparkles’ to capitalize on the reputation you have built in such a short time. This is where the plan seems to fall apart. They want to do a 50s-style drive-in diner, complete with waitresses on rollerskates. I convinced them not to try to go with period-correct braces as well. They are looking at several locations, some are local and some are in nearby towns. They don’t want to get too far away, at least not yet.”

I stop him. “The board would have to approve the franchise deal, I’m just one member of the board.”

Our hostess takes over. “I’ve talked with a few of the women on the board informally, and they are open to the idea, as are their husbands. It’s a low-risk situation and potentially high rewards. A significant part of the deal is reliant on the three of you participating.” She turns to Tabi. “They want you to do all the uniforms. They like what they see and they want the same quality you have been providing for us.”

Our host takes over again by asking, “Do you think you can design a period-correct braces-friendly menu for the drive-in?”

My mind is already kicking into gear and I have several ideas. “In theory, I can. What I need is someplace where I can work without using the kitchen here. They keep kicking me out of the kitchen I designed for them.”

I get a laugh from everyone and Birdy squeezes my hand. Our host asks, “What do you need? Make me a list and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

I grin. “I don’t need to make a list. Send them a picture of Tabi’s kitchen and tell them I want one just like it.”

Our hostess directs her next comment to Birdy. “I already know the answer to this question, but I’m going to ask it anyway. Does your boyfriend think you can handle his responsibilities while he is busy getting the kitchen for the drive-in ready?”

Birdy grins at me and I melt a little inside. “He’s trained me very well. I’m sure he can find the time to coach me if I run into problems. Maybe in the evenings after he’s done in his new kitchen.”

I kiss her cheek and say, “I’ll be honest. She’s already doing my job for me. She just lets people think I’m in charge.”

Our host and hostess look at each other, then at the three of us. “I’ll write up a proposal and give it to the guys. If you don’t have any other questions right now, how about we have a drink to celebrate.”

Sparkles - The Accountant


By Silversmiles64



Chapter 1

In high school, I was the kid the jocks made fun of for being uncoordinated and lacking athletic talent. The cheerleaders pretended I didn’t exist and the good-looking girls would just laugh at my attempts to get a date with any of them.

It didn’t help that my teeth weren’t quite aligned right, and I seemed to have more bad-hair days than I did have good-hair days. I was the tall skinny guy who seemed to blend into the background no matter where I was. My grades were average, so I didn’t fit in with the smart kids, and I had to really study to keep my grades at that level. Even the outcasts, the strange kids who dressed in dark colors or wore odd fashions rejected me.

The one thing I was good at was things involving numbers, not so much math, but how numbers worked in the real world. I say patterns in numbers and how things went together to make two plus two equal four. It wasn’t until my last year of high school that I found a way to use it to my advantage.

There was this little restaurant on my way home from school that I liked to stop at and do my homework. They served a decent quality coffee and the lady who owned the restaurant baked the most delicious cakes I had ever seen. There was one table nobody ever seemed to use, tucked into a corner of the restaurant. There was just enough space for a small table and one chair, perfect for me to study at without being in anybody's way, including the waitresses. After a while, I started to grab a cup of coffee when I came in so the waitresses didn’t have to do it.

The table had a good view of the entire restaurant and I could watch everything that was going on without anyone really noticing me tucked away in the corner, or so I thought. On the days the restaurant wasn’t busy, the owner of the place would sit at the table near me and take care of all the paperwork involved in running the place, including balancing the books. I frequently would hear him muttering to himself about the things that were bothering him about the restaurant.

Even though I didn't pay much attention to what he was muttering about, my mind still took it in and I began to notice patterns in what he was talking about. The customers who ordered a piece of cake all had good things to say about it, but the pieces were so big they frequently couldn't finish eating what they were served, so the remaining part would get thrown out. My mind saw a way to make more money from the same cake just by serving smaller pieces. The coffee was another way I could see for them to save money. The coffee pots were easily accessible to anyone in the restaurant, and by simply putting up a sign to say customers were 'welcome to serve themselves', they could reduce the amount of time the staff spent refilling coffee mugs instead of serving food.

Something else that stuck in my mind was how he was handling his paperwork. He did it all himself whenever he could find the time, rather than taking care of it each day or having someone do it for him.




I made a habit of refilling his mug whenever I refilled mine and it was when I made a casual comment while refilling his coffee mug one day that things in my life changed. I asked him why he didn’t have someone take care of the paperwork for him.

He asked me to have a seat so we could be comfortable while we talked. “I see you come into the restaurant frequently and take the same table nobody else uses, so you can study. When you're not studying, you’re watching what everybody else is doing. You always seem to be able to keep your table organized.” Then he smiled and said, “To answer your question, I don’t have the time to take all this stuff to someone who can do it for me, and it doesn’t make much sense to pay to have someone come here and do it. It would just cost too much.”

I looked at everything spread out on the table as I sipped my coffee. If it was all organized better, it seemed as if it would be easier to work with. As if he were reading my thoughts, he said, "Having a secretary would help, but this isn't the part I have trouble with. It's having to use the computer I have a problem with. I'm so used to doing it on paper the old way. I didn't grow up using computers the way you young people do."

Something went click in my mind and I heard myself say, “If you show me what you need help with, maybe I can give you a hand.”

I don’t think either of us really took it seriously, because he asked, “What would it cost me?”

He laughed when I said, "A piece of your wife's cake, but tell her to cut it in half. She cuts them way too big and people can't eat all of it." I looked around the restaurant and saw one of the few girls who actually acknowledged my presence and talked to me at school. Like me, she wasn't one of the popular crowd, and she didn't fit in with the other groups at school. "Tell your wife to give that girl sitting alone in the booth the other half."

His smile got bigger and he said, “You know what, I’m going to give you a piece of cake. You’ve brightened my day by distracting me, and you’ve earned it, even if you don’t do anything else. Wait here while I get it for you.”

I watched as he went to the counter and had his wife cut a piece of cake, then cut it again when he explained what he was going to do. His wife took the one piece to the girl's table and pointed in my direction. I couldn’t tell what she said to her, but the girl looked at me and smiled, and that is when I saw the sparkle of metal braces on her teeth. It was only a flash before she covered her mouth with her hand and tilted her head down.

As the owner placed the slice of cake in front of me, he said, “Smile at her and give a small wave, then look at me and I’ll show you what I have to do with this mess on the table.”

I did what he said. I couldn’t see if she was watching because her hair was hiding her eyes, but she did move her hand away from her mouth. It took us longer than it would normally take him if he was doing the paperwork by himself. He explained everything as he filled in the forms, making sure I understood what was required. As we were cleaning up, he said, “Next time will be easier. I won’t have to spend as much time explaining things.”




It was almost a week before we did the paperwork again. As we were starting to get organized, his wife came over and asked if I would like a sandwich while we worked. I hesitated as I looked at the cake sitting on the counter. She smiled at me and added, "You can have a piece of cake too if you want."

After accepting her offer and telling her what kind of sandwich I would like, we began to work our way through the paperwork. When my sandwich came, she had a second plate with her. She pointed to the table where the girl was sitting and whispered, "I made a sandwich for her too. When I give it to her, smile at her and wave."

I waited until the sandwich was delivered and the girl looked in my direction, then I smiled and waved. She smiled back at me, and she didn’t cover her mouth right away with her hand, using her lips instead to cover her braces. She seemed to have a little trouble covering them when her lips caught on the hooks on the brackets. She turned her head away first, with a smile on her face.

The owner had a smile on his face when we resumed working. He was right, it was easier with the two of us doing the work. I organized the stacks of paper and had them ready for him so they were ready as he filled in the forms.

Chapter 3

I found that if I came in each day and sorted the paperwork that had come in, it took considerably less time to fill out the forms each week. It also gave my mind a break from the schoolwork I had to do to improve my marks. The owner or his wife, and sometimes both, would stop by the table for a chat, and they said they were okay with the idea of doing the renovations as long as it didn’t cost too much.

I started calling them Mr. Boss and Mrs. Boss when they started referring to me as the Kid Bookkeeper, and the staff started to use the nicknames too. When we talked about what type of computer to buy, they kept telling me to decide what I needed and to let them know how much I wanted to spend. Mrs. Boss was the one who said not to spend more than half the money in the bank account for whatever I decided to do, and that included the renovations. She asked me to have the renovations done by the time I graduated so I would have an office to work in when I officially began working for them.



The head waitress was the next one to approach me with suggestions about the renovations. She wanted to know what I thought about the idea of having a space for the staff to take their breaks in. Usually they sat at an empty table or went outside the kitchen, near the freight elevator.

When I asked her why she didn’t talk to Mr. and Mrs. Boss about it, she said she had and they told her to talk to me, since I was in charge of doing the renovations. Then she said something I didn’t understand until after I graduated. “They put you in charge of the renovations. Do the job they have given you. If you need help, ask for it, but don’t keep running to other people expecting them to make the decisions for you. When they sit down with you to negotiate what you want to be paid, be honest with them and ask for what you think you are worth. They aren’t as old-fashioned as they seem to be.”

I took my time thinking about the renovations and the costs involved. The head cook and the head waitress gave me advice on what renovations to do and asked me to make the computer available to them if they needed to use it. Mr. Boss gave me a list of people to contact when I was ready to begin the renovations. The first name on the list was an architect. The one name missing from the list was the owner of the building the restaurant was in. He said he would take care of talking to the owner of the building.

I was a nineteen-year-old student about to graduate, and I had been put in charge of more than just doing the paperwork for the restaurant.


My first call was to the architect, and I took their advice as I worked with them on the preliminary drawings. I decided to build an office for the computer and added space to grow into if it was needed. With the advice of the cook and waitress, I added a space for the staff to relax in that had room for a couch and armchairs, with electrical plugs for a fridge, microwave and other things, including a TV and stereo in the future. The couch and chairs were already in the budget, the rest could be added if they were needed in the future.

I did my research on the computers available and set up a budget to buy two reasonably priced computers, a desktop for the office for later and a laptop for use in the restaurant right away. The old computer was donated to a charity and the receipt was included on the tax forms. Each week, I met with Mr. and Mrs. Boss and explained to them what was happening, and told them to let me know if they had anything they felt needed to be changed.




Having the laptop meant I could take care of the paperwork each day when I went in. I tried to show Mr. Boss how to use it, but he just kept saying, “That’s your job now, that’s what I hired you for.” With the ‘wage’ they were paying me, I put on a little more weight and my clothes began to fit better, and I wasn’t the only one to notice it. Mrs. Boss insisted I buy some new clothes and gave me a company credit card with my name on it. She gave me the same instructions I had for the renovations, “Don’t spend more than half the amount in the bank.”

I convinced my bosses that they needed to change how I was being paid, partly because I didn’t want to get fat, but mainly so I could show it on the paperwork. For the first time, I had to put a monetary value on what I was doing.  I knew what the rest of the staff was being paid and based my requested wage on that. They asked me to put it in writing, and to put my reasons for requesting what I did. When they returned it to me, Mrs. Boss had added, “Accepted, plus bonus clause for additional duties. Contract to be renegotiated at the completion of the renovations.”

When I tried to object, saying it wasn’t meant to be for such a short term, Mr. Boss smiled and said, “Just nod and accept it the way Mrs. Boss has written it.” When he referred to his wife that way, I knew better than to argue. They treated me like an adult and didn’t tell me to do things, they asked, and I gave them the same respect.

I wasn’t the only one that was changing. The girl with the braces always smiled at me when we passed in the hallway at school, and she didn’t try to hide her braces. It didn’t take me long to notice she was dressing differently too. She started to stop by the restaurant more frequently, and each time she did, Mrs. Boss would bring her something to eat, though what she brought changed as the girl put on a little weight. On her, the extra weight went to all the right places. She didn’t become beautiful suddenly, but I took more notice of her. As she changed, I felt she became even more out of my league. It didn’t stop me from smiling back at her, and I often saw her blushing when I looked at her in the restaurant. Her braces were always visible when I did. I noticed the waitresses always placed her at a table where I would see her.

Every so often, Mrs. Boss left a receipt for me with a note attached asking me to claim it as a restaurant expense. The amounts were small compared to what the restaurant spent and it was easy to find places to claim them, though I couldn’t figure out how clothing from boutiques and sessions at salons were business-related. Some things I just claimed as charitable donations.



At Mr. Boss’s suggestion, I asked the various people I was dealing with to meet me at the restaurant. The meeting included food paid for by the restaurant, and I learnt the value of what giving away something could do when negotiating a deal. It didn’t take long for word to spread that Mr. Boss had put me in charge of the renovations, and despite my age, they treated me as an adult.

The renovations quickly went through the planning stage into the construction phase, and just like any construction project, changes needed to be made as problems occurred. The minor things were dealt with by the people I hired, but there were still I few things I had to make decisions on.

I also found ways to save money, such as by offering to feed the crews at the restaurant's expense. By claiming the regular price of the meals as an expense, the restaurant only had to pay the cost of preparing the food, and the reduction in the negotiated price of the construction was significantly better than what it cost to feed the crews. With well-fed crews doing the work, the renovations started ahead of the schedule and stayed that way.

As it got closer to the end of the school year, the topic among the staff turned to graduation. Everyone knew someone who was graduating and they wanted to know what I was planning to do. The big discussion revolved around the party in the evening, and they all had stories to tell about theirs. Some of the stories were quite risque, though they didn’t get too descriptive. When they found out I wasn’t planning on going, they wouldn’t stop asking me why until I explained I didn’t fit in with the crowd at school and hadn’t even asked if anyone would go with me.



There was plenty for me to do as the renovations were completed. The desktop computer arrived, along with the rest of the office equipment and furniture. The renovations didn’t just include the new office space and staff area, I included wifi for the restaurant, and the customers commented on the addition. It didn’t take long for there to be an increase in the size of the tips being left. With the tips going into a jar and being divided between all the staff, everyone was happy.

The Bosses had been keeping a closer eye on things than I realized, and I received a call from one of the formalwear stores in town asking me to come down for a fitting. I had used half the balance in the account at the start of the renovations as the amount to work with, and had kept track of all the expenses as they came in. Mrs. Boss had a big smile on her face when she told me the fitting was part of the bonus for completing the renovations ahead of time and under the budget they had set. She asked me to pick out a suit to wear for the graduation party, and from the way she phrased it, I understood it was one of those requests I didn’t have a choice with. I had just been notified I was going to be attending the party.

The staff at the store had several choices ready for me when I arrived, and as I tried them on, they made suggestions to narrow down the choices to the one I felt best in. Each suit had come with suggestions for shirts to wear with it and it didn't take me long to realize I was being fitted with a suit I could wear after the party as well. When I walked in, I looked like a kid getting ready to graduate. By the time they were done, the image I saw was of a young man getting ready to face the business world. I also found out I wasn't renting it, the restaurant was buying it for me, together with the shirts to go with it.

On the day of the party, Mrs. Boss asked what time I would be ready and explained a car would be picking me up. It was all part of the bonus for the work I did on the renovations. What she didn’t tell me was Mr. Boss would be my driver and she would be with him in one of his carefully restored automobiles. It wasn’t a limousine, it was classier than that.

I found out there was one other stop on the way to the party. Mrs. Boss informed me she had arranged to have someone accompany me to the party. All I could get out of Mrs. Boss was it was someone I would recognize, and she was sure I would enjoy being with the person.

We pulled up in front of a house in the better part of town, and Mrs. Boss asked me to accompany her to the door. It was another one of the requests I knew better than to argue about. I knew it was traditional for the guy to pick up his date for the party at her place, but this situation was not typical. As the door opened, I was met with a smile I recognized right away, though the person smiling at me didn’t look like she usually did. She still wasn’t beautiful the way people usually define beauty, but she definitely looked way out of my class.

Even with the braces, her teeth hadn’t improved much yet. She had definitely filled out in all the right places, and the dress she was wearing was highlighting all of it in a very appealing way. Mrs. Boss was ready for the stunned look on my face. “See, my dear, I told you he would be speechless when he saw you. Give him a chance to recover, though I think it may take him a while.” Then she turned to me. “This is the part of your bonus I have had the most fun working on. I’ve been taking her clothes shopping and to the salon for a while now. After I saw how you looked at her in the restaurant and asked me to take her the piece of cake, I knew I had to do something. I could see you wouldn’t. When I asked her if she would go to the party with you, she said she was more than willing.” She paused, and then stage whispered, “I think she likes you. I didn’t even have to bribe her to go with you. When I took her shopping for a dress to wear to the party and she saw the prices, I had to tell her you were buying it for her.”

Charlotte and I were both blushing by that time, and she looked even better to me. I finally got my brain to work enough to say, “My name is Brian. It’s nice to finally say ‘hi’ to you, Charlotte.”

Her smile got bigger as she said, “I know who you are. I’ve been too scared to talk to you, and I’ve been waiting a long time for you to say something to me.”

Mrs. Boss had things under control. She whispered to me, “Hold out your arm so she can slip hers through it, then walk her to the car.” It was the final thing needed to relieve the tension we were feeling and Charlotte laughed as I extended my arm. Mr. Boss was waiting by the back door of the car for us to arrive. He took her hand and assisted her into the car, and gestured for me to follow her, before shutting the door for us.

At the hotel where the party was being held, Mr. Boss stepped out and slipped on a hat. All the eyes in the area turned in our direction as he opened the suicide door on his classic car and I stepped out wearing my suit. Everyone went quiet as I extended my hand to Charlotte as she stepped out. Mr. Boss whispered, “Hold your head up and walk into there as if you own the building. Have fun tonight, enjoy yourselves. When you are ready to leave, have us paged. I’m going to take my wife to have a meal and we’ll be listening to the music in the club afterwards. I still remember how to have a good time.”

Chapter 5

The first kiss was a disaster. She was surprised and wasn’t ready for me to kiss her. The second kiss wasn’t much better. By the third kiss, our instincts began to take over and things improved slightly. Our fourth attempt was better yet. And then she began to giggle. “We really aren’t very good at kissing.”

Our faces were so close together, her lips were brushing against mine as she was talking. I didn't want to lose contact with them, so I didn’t move away. “I did say I didn’t know how to kiss.”

It was too much for me when she said, "It sure isn't as easy as they make it look in the movies."

I had to move away before I laughed into her face. “They only show the scene after they have shot it many times. They don’t show all the times the actors made mistakes.”

My heartbeat increased as she said, “Well, maybe we need to practice some more,” and she moved her face toward me until her lips were against mine again. We were both ready for the kiss, and it wasn’t any better than the others, but it wasn’t any worse either. There were just too many things that weren’t right.

I put my hand on her bare shoulder and moved away from her. “We seem to be doing things wrong.” I grinned at her. “Let's try changing what we are doing until we get things right. Between us, we should be able to figure it out. How about we change one thing, try two kisses, then decide on something else to change.”

She nodded and I moved my chair closer to hers. We gradually changed how we were kissing, taking turns making suggestions, until she ended up sitting on my lap, and several things happened quickly. I had my left arm around her back to support her, and we found our faces at the right height to match, the distance between our faces was just right and our faces were at the right angle. When she’d sat on my lap, I’d put my right hand on her knee, but I wasn’t comfortable with it there, so I started to move it to her waist. She adjusted her position slightly just as I was moving my hand, and I misjudged the location of my where my hand was. Instead of landing where I thought her waist was, I ended up slightly higher on her body… on the side of her left breast. Up until that point, we had been kissing with our lips mostly closed, but we were both surprised and our mouths opened slightly.

For the first time, her braces were exposed and they brushed against my lips. We both hesitated briefly and then I moved my hand down to her waist. I tried to move my head away to apologize, but her lips followed mine, staying parted with her braces against my lips. The kiss lasted much longer than the others, and when she moved away, she said, “Can we do that again? I think we are finally figuring out how to kiss.” She pressed her lips against mine and opened hers slightly so her braces were against my lips. The kiss felt similar, but not quite right, as if something was missing. We tried again, with the same result. She moved her head back slightly and smiled. “I think I know what is missing. Do you trust me?”

I nodded my head, and as she moved her lips to mine again, she moved my hand from her waist to the side of her breast again. She was right, the thing that had been missing from our kiss was the placement of my hand. The kiss wasn’t quite the same as the first time because we were both expecting the sensation of my touch. The surprise wasn’t there and we both relaxed into the kiss, letting our lips slide over her braces together.

Our kiss was interrupted by a cough from the bar. We reluctantly moved our faces apart and turned to look at the bartender. “I hate to interrupt you, but I have always wanted to say this and never had the chance. Get a room, I can’t let you keep doing that here.”

Charlotte and I looked at each other and laughed. I turned to the bartender and said, "We didn't come here for that."

Charlotte brushed her hand against my cheek and said just loud enough for the bartender to hear, “Thank you for saying that, it means a lot to me. Why don't you sit here while I fix my makeup and then we’ll see if we can find our driver and his wife.” She gave one last wiggle as she brushed her braces against my lips and moved off of my lap. She understood I didn’t want to stand up just yet, and her lipstick did need to be repaired.

Watching her walk away from me was fascinating. I couldn’t tell how much of the wiggle and sway was from what she was wearing, how much of it was natural talent and how much of it was for my benefit, and it didn’t really matter. Just before she disappeared into the ladies' room, she looked over her shoulder at me with a smile and licked her lips.

Watching her walk toward me was even better. She’d fixed up her lipstick and adjusted her dress, and the top of the stocking on her left leg flashed at me with every step she took. She hadn’t suddenly become a beautiful woman, she was still the same 19-year-old girl who had been coming into the restaurant. Her teeth were still messed up and she had metal braces working to straighten them out, but her smile had changed. She had a level of confidence that had been missing before, and it showed in how she smiled at me.

I stood up and extended my hand to her, letting her decide whether she wanted to take it or simply link arms again. Her braces seemed to take on a sparkle they didn’t have before, as she wove her fingers with mine. When we’d walked into the bar, I’d been presenting an image to the bouncer that I wasn’t sure about. As we walked past him on the way out, the image he saw was one of a young man with a good-looking woman holding his hand. Rather than have my bosses paged, we wandered around the hotel to find the lounge, then walked around until we found them. We weren’t going to disturb them, but they saw us and gestured for us to join them. They had selected a booth at the back and the music in the lounge wasn’t loud to begin with, making it easy to talk.

We told them we were in no rush to leave and we would go when they were ready. They offered to buy us alcoholic drinks, but we both turned down the offer, choosing to have fruit juice instead. Mrs. Boss smiled when we asked for one of the fruit-blend specials served in a large bowl-like stemmed container and asked for two straws. When the drink arrived, Charlotte moved my arm over her shoulder and snuggled close to me so it was easy for both of us to drink. Before long, my arm had moved to her back and my hand was resting beside her breast, where she secured it by pressing her arm against it.

I wasn’t the only one enjoying the company of the person I was with. My bosses had moved closer together after we sat down with them, and their hands were doing a bit of wandering just out of sight. Every time Charlotte leaned over to take a drink, she used my leg to support herself, and her hand gradually moved up my leg, getting closer to my hip.

The band played a mix of styles of music, mostly jazz and blues, from modern tunes to old-time classics, and they joined the singer on some of the songs. We just sat back, enjoying listening to the music without having to talk to each other. Charlotte snuggled a little closer to me each time one of us took a sip, and my hand gradually moved closer to the side of her breast, with her encouragement.

When the band took a break, the ladies decided they needed to use the facilities and Mr. Boss suggested we head home. While we waited for the ladies, he said, "I remember what my graduation party night was like. I didn't meet the love of my life until years later, but the girl I was with was close to being the one I wanted to marry. She didn't want to wake up alone in the morning. If you don't want to go home yet, I can get you a room."

I smiled and said, “You’re the second person to suggest it. Charlotte and I didn’t come here with that in mind, so I’m going to politely decline your offer, though I wouldn’t mind if you gave us some privacy when you drop her off at her place. Maybe drive around the block once or twice?”