Just Desserts by Katrina

The bread was late. Nora took another walk to the front door and poked her head out to scan the sidewalk for any sign of Lenny, their normal deliveryman. Nick was going to have a fit if it didn’t show up soon. Today was matinee day at the local theatre and they already had over forty reservations for lunch. Nick & Nora’s Place had developed a loyal and burgeoning following in the last few years. Screw-ups were just not acceptable on Thursdays. Angrily, she yanked out her cell phone and punched in the number for Pannino’s Bakery. Someone was going to hear just how irritated she was.

A moment later, a contrite Nora Mellos flipped shut her phone and ran an exasperated hand through her wild mop of dirty blond curls.

She had completely forgotten to place the bread order. She groaned as she remembered yesterday afternoon. It was a wonder she had even managed to get herself home.

"Nora!" Her husband stood just in front of the swinging kitchen doors, his burly shape clothed in an immaculate white chef coat and baggy checked pants. "Hey hon, would you bring me a couple loaves of bread for this bruschetta?"

"The truck’s running late, Nicky," she lied. "I just called. Want me to run around the corner and buy some from Belle?" Belle’s was a coffee shop owned by her very good friend Belle Armstrong. She felt a tiny twinge for telling the untruth, but she didn’t want Nick to know about her blunder. Especially since she had urged him to take yesterday lunch off and when he quizzed her about placing the orders, she had told him everything was done.

"No, that’s okay, I can wait, it won’t take long," he said after making a funny face. "Fish order didn’t get here yet either. Give ‘em a call, ‘kay, hon?"

"Ohmigod," she thought in dismay. She had forgotten to call Bright Sea Fish Market, also. How could she have forgotten to call two such important vendors?

Yesterday, Belle had stopped over after the lunch crowd was gone and the two of them had finished a bottle of wine, sampling a tasting of appetizers that Nick’s brother, Pete was creating in the kitchen. Although he ran a successful diner in Manhattan, Pete sometimes took over for his little brother when Nick wanted a day off from his own casual-chic eatery. Peter Mellos always enjoyed his visits to the quiet Suburban town where Nick and Nora lived and worked. If the truth were told, he also was trying to impress the seemingly unattainable Belle with his culinary delights.

Nora and Belle had really enjoyed themselves with a crisp, delectable Pinot Grigio and the savory concoctions that Pete paraded before them. When Nick showed up for the dinner shift at 3:30, she and Belle were happily tipsy and completely sated. When Nick asked her about the orders, she quickly yessed him while giggling helplessly at Belle’s sotto voce comments. If the truth were told, she was eager to escape before her husband realized just how toasted she was. Nick seemed satisfied and settled into his prep for dinner. Pete reluctantly bid Belle goodnight as the two women sauntered down the street to catch the early movie.

She really did intend to call in the orders once they were out of the restaurant but Belle thought they should stop at The Lucky Penny for another glass of wine.

By the time they left there, they were feeling no pain and neither one of them could give a coherent summary of the movie they watched afterward.

"It was a chick flick," Nora said groggily with her head under the pillow later that night when Nick asked her about it.

So now her goose was well and truly cooked. If Nick found out that she had lied to him. He would not be a happy camper. She hurriedly rummaged through her purse, pulling out the Wednesday sheet that had been clipped to the bulletin board in the kitchen.

Well at least there wasn’t a meat order there. That would have been really disastrous – both of the meat purveyors Nick used were forty-five minutes away. She punched in the numbers for the fish market and asked for Estelle.

When she heard the flat, nasally voice of the owner, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Stelle, it’s Nora, I need you to save my ass," she said quickly. "I forgot to call this in yesterday and Nick has to have it for today’s lunch."

Nora read the order to Estelle and prayed that they would be able to make a quick delivery.

"No problem, honey," Estelle said. "What’s the matter, that Greek lumberjack of yours has a little temper?"

"You have no idea," Nora said, relief coursing through her body. "Thanks a million, Stelle."

Estelle’s comment made Nora smile ruefully. Her husband was a very large man and his curly dark hair made him look like a giant Bacchus; his Greek heritage was very clearly apparent in his olive complexion and dark, almost black eyes. He was large but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him and Estelle was just one of many who thought he belonged with an ax in hand and an ox named Blue.

Estelle had hit the target head on when she mentioned Nick’s temper. The brawny chef was a stickler when it came to his restaurant. Forgetfulness at home was easily excused but when Nora messed up at work, she felt the sting of Nick’s anger – in more ways than one.

They didn’t usually buy too many desserts since the woman who worked their pantry was also a skilled pastry chef. But there were a few standard pies and tortes that Nick always ordered from Daria Foods, the same bakery that supplied croissants and Danish to Belle’s. Daria herself answered the phone and promised to deliver the relatively small order with only a couple substitutions before lunch.

"Thank goodness," Nora allowed herself a big sigh of relief as she sank down in the easy chair near the front desk.

"Would you please watch your language," he said in an annoyed voice. "You know how I feel about that at work."

His admonishing tone just made her angry. She forgot for a moment about her narrow escape from discovery.

"Okay, Nora," he said reasonably. "Continue to speak like that. We’re right in the front window. You want to put on a show for Main Street? Cause you know what happens when you outright defy me."

Outright defy this, she wanted to shout into his serious, handsome face. But she didn’t. She knew better.

"You are in one foul mood, girl," he said. "Maybe we should take us a little trip downstairs." His office, the only private place in the restaurant, was located in the basement behind the laundry room. There was a very innocuous looking ruler in his desk drawer and only she knew how wicked the slim piece of wood really was. Too many times she had been led to that office, to be lectured for one misdeed or another and then bent over her husband’s lap to feel the sting from that very same measuring implement. Nick Mellos was a firm believer in wifely discipline.

"No," she said quickly. "I’m sorry, Nick. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I must be premenstrual," she lied, hoping he wouldn’t do the math and figure out the impossibility of that one.

"Fine," he said shortly. "I just wanted to make sure that the orders were on their way. Did you call Bright Sea?" When she nodded, he continued, "I hope you told them that this kind of thing better not happen again. I can’t be getting my fish order in the middle of lunch."

She nodded again, feeling a lump in the pit of her stomach. She felt awful about lying to him and letting him think it was the purveyor’s fault especially after Estelle’s kindness. But self-preservation was foremost in her mind. It had been a few weeks since she had experienced a punishment spanking but the memory of Nick’s big, hard hand on her aching bottom was a strong one and she shuddered involuntarily.

He lifted her from the chair and held her close, stroking her back and kissing her neck, her cheeks, and her lips. His warm fingers massaged her hips and lingered softly on her ass, patting her lovingly as he rocked her like a baby.

Tell him. But she ignored the inner voice and pulled his face down so she could give him a proper kiss.

"Me too, little one," he said. "But I gotta get back to my goat cheese tarts." He gave her one last kiss and winked down at her.

She felt like a heel. How could she lie to this man. This man that she loved more than life itself even if she didn’t always appreciate his methods.

They had been married for about two months when Nick first exposed her to his own process for maintaining domestic bliss. She had been bitching about one thing or another, she couldn’t even remember what. She did remember what happened right before…

"You are such a fucking asshole," she had yelled at her husband, turning to storm out of the room.

He had grabbed her by the straps of her overalls and yanked her back. "If you believe I’m a fucking asshole, then leave now," he said. "And I don’t mean the house, I mean the marriage."

"You heard me. You’re not gonna get away with that shit, not for one more second."

He was implacable and her heart thudded with dread. She didn’t want to leave him. He was the only man she had ever truly loved. The only man who had ever kept her from her earlier self-indulgent habits that could be so damaging. Like spending too much, drinking too much and self-doubting too much.

"I’m sorry too," he said sternly. "Cause I am now going to blister your sweet little behind like you never felt before."

Wh...what? Nick, get serious."

"I am serious, sweetheart," he told her, leading her over to the sofa. He sat down and stood her in front of him, trapping her with his massive thighs. Quickly he unclipped the bib of her overalls and yanked them down to her knees. In a flash, he had her over his lap and for a moment she felt his hand on the outside of her bikini briefs. And then that moment was gone and so were her panties, pulled down to join her denim overalls.

"This is called discipline, darling," he told her. "And for sure you are going to know this position well. Because I am not going to put up with any more of your bullshit."

Nora felt a tingling in her stomach at his words. It was so odd. This very strong man was about to give her the spanking of her life and she really had no fear of him. She felt dread and apprehension for her bottom but she knew with every fiber of her being that Nick Mellos loved her with all of his heart.

She was crying before the first blow landed. His hand was hard and relentless but she felt such heartache from her earlier hateful behavior, she almost welcomed the pain. Almost, but not quite.

"Ever gonna use such language about me again?" He punctuated each word with a hard smack to her bottom and she wept helplessly.

It continued until she was choking back the sobs, tears and mucous running into her mouth.

When her rear-end was burning and throbbing like a gigantic bee sting, he stopped.

He lifted her tenderly from his knees and looked into her messy face. "I love you with my whole life, Nora," he said quietly. "This is what will happen when you disrespect the rules of marriage. I will never do that and I hope you won’t either."

All well and good. But eight years later and she wasn’t a twenty-four year old newlywed anymore. They had built this place together; she had put plenty of sweat and tears into this restaurant and she would not be treated like the hired help when it came to responsibility. So she goofed.

Now she had to print out the menus. She stopped in the kitchen to pick up the specials and headed downstairs to the office. She typed the menu into the computer and made copies on a pretty floral paper.

By the time she returned upstairs, the wait staff had arrived. She handed the special menus to Lisa to slide into the plastic sleeves and went back up front to the desk. There was a message on the machine. She hit the code and listened.

"Nora, don’t worry," Lisa called from her perch at Table 4. "Nick already got the message, he was up reading the reservations just a few minutes ago."

It was too late to worry about it now. The first reservation was walking in the front door. Nora plastered on a smile and stepped forward to greet them.

Three and a half-hours later and the dining room was deserted. Nora was finishing up the daily receipts and had already cashed out the wait staff. Lisa stuck her head back in the dining room.

"Hey, Nora, the boss asked me to tell you he needs you in the office for a sec."

Just great. They did over eighty for lunch, thanks to her careful seating and maneuvering and she was still in trouble.

Just for a moment, she considered walking out the back door instead of down the stairs. She would still be in trouble but she knew it would be much worse if he had to wait until tonight to speak to her. It would fester in that black curly-haired head of his. And tonight she would be, oh so much more, unhappy.

He was sitting at his desk, bent over the order sheets that he carefully wrote out every day. He looked up. His dark eyes, always so expressive of his feelings, hinted of both disappointment and anger.

"I might have wanted to hear this morning when you first realized your mistake. Before the first lie, I might have wanted to hear. Or even later this morning when you kissed me and told me you loved me. Or maybe, even during lunch when you knew I knew and would have appreciated a word or two about it. But now, I don’t want to hear it, Nora."

"I was busy during lunch," she countered. "I turned thirty tables, Nick, with two waiters and a busboy."

"Lock the door, Nora."

Stomping over to the door, she pushed in the button on the doorknob and turned back to her husband. "I am protesting this, it’s unfair."

He stood up, all six foot, two inches of him. His curly head almost hit the ceiling. He nudged his chair into the center of the room.

Muttering under her breath, she unzipped her long, khaki skirt and pulled it off, carefully placing it on the chair. She stood in front of him in her striped tee and lacy briefs.

"Belle and I were drinking wine and having fun and well........you know." She looked down, embarrassed to have to admit her failure to this man she loved above all others.

"That’s fine, Nora, you and Belle got tanked. What about the lying?" He reached out and tipped her chin up with two fingers, making her meet his eyes.

"I’m sorry, Nick. It wasn’t just about saving my butt but also not having to see this look in your eyes. I hate it when you’re mad at me. I have no excuse."

"But, Nick," she reached out and took his hand, rubbing her thumb over his fingers.

A dozen epithets sprang to her lips, none of them flattering, but she didn’t let any of them fly out, knowing from past history that it would only prolong and enhance the ensuing punishment. She bit her lip.

She stepped around him and pulled open the desk drawer, retrieving the long wooden ferule.

He took it and sat down, pulling her over his lap. In a moment, he slid her panties down to her calves. For just the briefest of moments, he laid his hand against her smooth, cool buttocks and she sighed.

He warmed her up with five smacks of his hand and she squirmed silently. She hated when he punished her at work; she was so afraid that someone would hear – either one of the dishwashers, picking up towels from the laundry room or a waiter, taking a cigarette break in the alley.

Thankfully, he flipped on the radio that he kept on his desk for just that purpose. The dulcet tones of Faith Hill broke into the room.

It was hard work, keeping silent once he started using the ruler. The thin wood slammed down on her bottom, leaving fiery red streaks on her skin. She cried quietly and dug her fingers into his black and white checked legs.

The pain was fierce. He wielded the old fashioned rod with an unfailingly rigid arm, striping the curve of her buttocks despite her tearful pleas. When he reached the tender spot above her thighs, she yelped. He laid two-dozen strokes of the ruler onto her tender backside. Her bottom was cherry red and burning like fire when he stopped.

"But you love me," she said, blowing her nose.

"Yes, but do you love the way I love you?" he mused, referring to the song that just played.

"I guess I do," she told him honestly. "Because I love you and all that it brings."

"You gonna lie to me again?"

"I am going to try never to do such a thing again," she said diplomatically, rubbing her sore bottom.

"Don’t you have work to do?" she asked saucily, comfortable in his sturdy arms.

"Go home and think about today," Nick said. "When I come home, you better be ready to talk to me. And I’m talking ready. Cause I have some things I want to discuss, like how many times you’re allowed to be premenstrual every month."

He stood up and carefully set her on her feet. She leaned her head against his broad chest while he wrapped his arms around her. Burying his head in her blond curls, he inhaled the sweet perfume of her hair while his hands caressed her injured flesh.

He left her in the office and went upstairs. She retrieved her panties, which had slipped, down to her ankles and pulled on her skirt, taking care not to aggravate her stinging bottom. She took a minute to run her fingers through her hair and fix her lipstick.

She knew her cheeks were flushed. There was no way to take the sparkle out of her eyes and the knowledge that she had just been reprimanded by the boss himself as she walked into the kitchen on her way out.

"Nora," Nick called. John, the sous chef looked over and Mary glanced up from the salad dressing she was preparing.

She went obediently to where her husband stood behind the line, whisking something in a stainless steel bowl.

"Taste," he said, offering her his finger. He sometimes did that with new recipes. Usually she just tasted the offering and gave him her verdict. Today was different.

She took his finger in her mouth, licking the skin clean of the tangy, citrus and ginger marinade. Throwing back her head, she moaned, much to the amusement of John and Mary. Ever so gently, she tongued the tip of his finger and sunk her teeth into the crease of his knuckle.

"Delicious, Nicolas," she said. "But I’ll have more later, my love." She kissed his fingers and waved airily.

Did he honestly think she could resist that parting shot? And after all, he started it.

"I’ll remember that, Nora," he said warningly as she scooted through the back door. "I hope you remember."

Sliding into her navy blue Cabrio in the lot behind the restaurant, she winced as her bottom made contact with the seat. She backed out of her spot and roared up the driveway.

"How was today?" her friend asked. "I have to tell you, I had a hard time getting up this morning."

"Morning wasn’t the problem," Nora said, laughing. "It was when Nick found out that I never placed any of the orders."

Nora wondered what her friend would say if she told her what had just transpired in Nick’s office. She would probably be disgusted or appalled or indignant for her.

Nora watched her jump into her tan Landrover. Shaking her head, Nora pulled out of the driveway and headed toward their house. All of a sudden, she couldn’t wait until Nick came home.

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