Battle Of The Pies

The chef stole glances at Naomi as she moved around the kitchen with a small smile on her face.

The past few days, he noticed how quiet and withdrawn she was but this morning, it was different.

“Is everything okay?” Naomi asked the Chef. Her attention might be fixed on the dressings for her pie but she knew he was staring at her, dying to ask questions.

“Nothing at all. It seems you're in a good mood.” Chef offered and Naomi smiled, nodding her head, she was in fact in a good mood.

“You could say that.”

She pulled the oven, it was ready. Once the pie cooled, she gently placed it into a container and then the pink lunch bag.

Once she was done, she headed to the foyer with two different bags one for her, one for her husband.

Patrick turned on his heels, a polite smile on his face. "Good morning, Ms. Naomi."

"Morning, Patrick," she replied, extending the larger bag to him. "This is for Damon."

His eyes widened slightly as he took the bag. "Thank you, Ms. Naomi. And… is that the pie? Might I perhaps get some of it?" He gestured subtly to the tantalizing aroma wafting from the bag.

Naomi chuckled, "Of course." She presented him with the smaller bag. "This one's for you. Consider it a thank you for all your patience with us."

Patrick's smile widened, finally! He's going to have that heavenly pie she makes! “This is more than a thank you, Ms Naomi. I'll make sure to savour every bite!”

Naomi laughs, her cheeks flushed. “I really hope you enjoy it.”

Damon appeared at the top of the staircase, walking down the stairs. He was, as always, impeccably dressed, his dark suit tailored. His eyes, however, seemed to hold a lightness to them as they met hers.

"Good morning, husby," Naomi said with a teasing smile.

He reached the bottom of the stairs, stopping a few feet from them. Goodness, he missed hearing her call him that. Holding back a smile, he met her gaze slowly. “Hubsy?” He asked like he was puzzled.

"Have a good day at the office." She adds, pulling her bag across her shoulder.

Damon gave a nod in response. "Uhm." His gaze fell to the two bags in Patrick's hands. "What's that?"

"Ms. Naomi baked you a pie.” Patrick offered.

Damon cleared his throat, adjusting the knot of his tie as a smile threatened to escape his lips.

"Right. Well. Good day, then." He walked past them, a slight bounce in his step as he approached his car.

Nothing brightens his day like a smile from his wife. And a heavenly made pie.

Naomi watched him go, waving him goodbye as he exited through the front door, then turned and headed to her waiting car.

Her driver held the door open, and she settled into the backseat, the morning air feeling lighter than it had in days.

“Shall we?” The driver asked.

“Yes.”

《The Company》

Hours later, the afternoon seemed to drag longer than Naomi hoped. Lunch was over hours ago but for some reason, she couldn't wait for the clock to strike 2pm so she could turn in her reports for the day at Damon's office.

Naomi stretched, feeling the familiar tension in her shoulders. Her eyes flickered to the wall clock and it was already 2pm.

Naomi smiled, holding back her excitement. She adjusted her hair, smoothed down her skirt. She took a quick glance at the mirror on her table, her lips looked chapped. She pulled out a lip gloss from her bag, applied two layers and gathered her documents.

Naomi heads out her door, a smile still dancing on her lips which didn't go by unnoticed by her colleagues.

As she approached Damon's office door, she paused, hearing hushed but intense voices from within. It sounded like an argument, or at least a very heated discussion. This was unusual.

Naomi leans over to the door in curiosity, wondering what the heated discussion was about.

"No, Patrick! I told you, I finished mine! You saw me!" Damon's voice held a note of exasperation, almost a whine.

Naomi leans away in shock, that was Damon for sure. Did she hear that right? She leans back in for more.

"But Mr. Damon, this is my pie," Patrick insisted, his voice laced with stubbornness. "Ms. Naomi made it for me."

"It's the same pie! Just get me a slice!" Damon countered, his tone demanding. "Do you realize how long it's been since I had a pie? Let alone a homemade one made by my wife?"

Naomi’s lips twitched, did he just call her his wife? And is he really out to get Patrick for his own pie?

Her heart swelled in happiness as she leaned in again to hear more, holding back her laughter.

“I understand! But…you could just ask her to make you another one sir! You're the reason we didn't get pies for weeks!”

“What? Me? Unbelievable. Hey, hand the pie over! I'm warning you!”

Naomi decided to make her presence known, pushing the heavy office door open without knocking.

Damon and Patrick immediately stiffened, turning to face her with practiced composure.

Damon’s hand was hovering near Patrick, who was clutching a foil-wrapped parcel, clearly the smaller pie Naomi had given him. On Damon’s desk, amidst his organized papers, sat an empty pie tin, not even a crumble left.

"Naomi," Damon said smoothly, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

His voice had instantly returned to its usual calmness. "Right on time. Report, please."

She walked forward, a faint smile playing on her lips. She handed him the documents, her eyes darting between Damon and Patrick.

"Here you go, sir."

Her gaze flicked to Patrick, whose eyes held a silent plea and terror.

"Is everything alright in here?"

"Perfectly fine, Ms. Naomi," Patrick chirped, attempting to hide the pie behind his back.

"Excellent," Naomi said, turning to leave.

She took a step, then paused at the door, glancing back at them. Damon was now glaring at Patrick, a silent threat in his eyes.

As she closed the door, she distinctly heard Damon’s voice resume its low, possessive growl.

"Now, about that pie, Patrick… I believe we have a sharing policy in this office."

A soft, genuine laugh escaped Naomi as she walked down the hall.

Perhaps, she thought, there was more to Damon Sinclair than even she, his wife, had ever known.