Lillian Byrne took a small bite of the corner of her dainty cucumber sandwich. She lifted her napkin to dab at her lips as she watched her guest. He did not take a small bite. He took three of the sandwiches and shoved them all into his mouth at one time. His napkin stayed draped over one knee, a saucer balanced precariously on the other knee. The china cup, dwarfed in his large hand, poised for him to take a gulp of tea to wash the sandwiches down. Lillian laughed softly.

?Wha??? To Mason?s credit he didn?t spray bread crumbs.

?Come along, Mason. Let?s fix you a real sandwich.? Lillian set aside her napkin and cup of tea. Mason quickly gulped a swallow of tea and relieved himself of the saucer and napkin so he could get up out of his chair before the older woman rose. When she did he was readily offering her his arm.

Much like the teacup, the woman seemed fragile and tiny next to the mountain of a man as they walked through the paneled halls of the manor home. Their entry into the large kitchen interrupted the cook and drivers shared tea time. They didn?t seem put out as Lillian told them to take their time with the afternoon shopping and suggested they take a drive along the river.

Mason watched the pair leave, his brow furrowing for a moment as his mind reviewed what he had just seen in the exchange of glances between the cook and driver. ?Wait...? He turned to look at Lillian, grinning. ? Danvers finally broke through cook?s cast iron defenses? Danvers and Mary are bumping ugly?!??

Lillian pulled open the cooler and started loading Mason?s arms up with covered plates, jars and condiments. ?Bumping ugly? Mason? She shook her head and tsked as she turned him and pointed to the butcher block table. ?Danvers is simply teaching Mary the fine art of stick shifting.? She said it so matter of fact someone might even think she was talking about driving lessons. Mason narrowed his eyes and gave her a look as he set everything down. ?Maybe one day he will teach her how to actually drive a car too.?

With the table laden down with sandwich fixings Mason poured them both a nice cold lager and settled in a seat. He and Lillian chit chatted as she constructed his sandwich. She regaled him with the latest of the Blue Hair Brigade, as Mason had labeled the group of wealthy elderly society women, gossip. Mason gave her an update on how things were going at work but Lillian noticed he hadn?t mentioned Eva.

Lillian leaned and placed the plated sandwich before Mason. It was a thing of beauty to him. Layers of roast, ham, turkey, cheddar, havarti and swiss cheese interspersed with layers of lettuce, tomato, pickle and onion wedged between slices of spicy mustard slathered bread. As with any good dagwood sandwich the first step to eating it was mushing it down. Mason mushed the first half then took a big bite. He nodded his approval to Lillian as he chewed happily.

Lillian smiled as she watched him enjoying the sandwich. It reminded her of days long past when she would have a sandwich like that waiting for her husband, Billy, when he came home for lunch. Her gaze strayed to the small diamond ring and wedding band on her finger. Her smile softened with the flood of memories that were enough to make her blue eyes swim with emotion.

As Mason chewed he was watching Lillian. His eyes followed the path of her gaze to the ring. Mason had escorted Lillian to enough social functions to know she had enough diamonds and jewels to make that one look like a speck of dust in comparison. It was time to reveal the real reason he had come to visit today. He swallowed and wiped his mouth before he spoke in a soft tone.

?Lil, I want to buy Eva a ring.?

The Rock - "How bad could it be?"


Needed:
1 large male. No talent needed.

Lou?s Telegram Entertainment.


Mason saw the notice on the day labor board in the Market. Though things down on the docks were busy, his friend Tony had a full crew right now and Mason hadn?t been able to pick up a shift the past week. He plucked the notice off the board. Probably just a security job, he?d done that before. How bad could it be?

He was still thinking that as he climbed the steep and narrow steps up to a door. The frosted glass bore the lettering Lou?s Telegram Entertainment and Talent Agency.

Mason was greeted by the smell of stale cigars and a grunt from the man behind the desk who must have heard the door. He didn?t look up yet, busy scribbling something down on a paper. Mason stopped and waited a few feet from the desk and glanced around. The sun was trying to get in through the dirty windows but all it succeeded in doing was casting a haze heavy with drifting dust motes. The walls were lined with old file cabinets, some of the drawers stuffed so full they couldn?t be closed.

The man behind the desk looked up. And up and up. Mason was sure the stub of cigar would fall from the corner of his mouth. It teetered for a moment until the man clenched his teeth in what was supposed to be a smile.

?Madge, get in here. We got one!?

The Rock - "How bad could it be?"



Walking into Madge?s den, as she called it, was what Mason imagined it was like to walk into an old Hollywood trailer. The scents of perfume, smoke, make-up and alcohol lingered in the air. Several of the walls were lined with racks of colorful costumes. Mirror and lights took up the greater part of another.

She gave him a push towards the changing screen. ?Strip down and put that on.?

Mason eyed the lavender robe hanging on the corner of the screen. He gave Madge a doubtful look. She started with a husky laugh. ?Yours wouldn?t be the first broad shoulders in one of my dressing gowns, Big Boy. But I meant the costume behind the screen.?

?Yeah, sure you did, Doll.? He used Lou?s word as he grinned and headed towards the screen. Mason stopped short when he saw the blob of a suit and looked back at Madge. ?Seriously??

Madge tossed a bottle of talcum at him. ?Use this, it?ll be easier.?

Mason caught the bottle, looked at it, then at Madge, then the bottle again. Seriously? But then he thought about why he was there. About making money to get a proper ring for the woman he loved. It won?t be so bad, he told himself as he stepped behind the screen and stripped down. Even after a liberal dowsing of the powder there was a ton of curses and grunts as Mason got into the costume. Pushing and pulling, Madge was right, it would fit but just barely.

The suit caused a waddle as Mason came out from behind the screen. ?Uhm..I need help with the zipper.? Madge moved behind Mason letting out her own stream of curses as she fought with the zipper and finally got it up.

He took a seat on the low stool she pointed to, his head tilted back so she could apply the facial pieces and head. He was left staring at the wall over her shoulder as she worked. His eyes scanned over the row of black and white pictures on the wall. Most of them were of Madge, in her younger days, with different leading man type men out on the town at various clubs and premieres. Mason?s brow furrowed and he squinted.

?Stop squinting.? Madge complained as she tried to work.

He had been trying to see if he was wrong about the picture in the middle of the row. That was Madge, for sure. She was holding a small bouquet. But next to her... it couldn?t be. ?Uh... Madge, is that Lou? ?

Madge looked over her shoulder to see where he had been looking. ?Yep, that?s our wedding day.?

Mason blinked and then stared at her. ?Lou, you married Lou? Over all those others?? He gestured to the row of leading men, the question of why hanging in the air.

Madge continued to brush on the make-up, pausing only to tap some ash from her cigarette. A few minutes of silence passed between them, the question still hanging there. Madge stepped back to check her work and leaned against the make-up table. She snubbed out the current cigarette.

?The only thing small about Lou is his height if you know what I mean.? She followed the words with a husky laugh.

Mason cringed a little. ?Alright, Lou is hung like a mule.? He shuddered a little. ?Now my brain needs to be scrubbed clean.?

She leveled one of those one eyed smoker squints at Mason as the smoke from her new cigarette curled up from the tip. Her voice was quieter, softer. ?He gets me. All those fellas..? She gestured to the row of pictures. ?To them I was an accessory, a prize. But then Lou comes along with his cheesy smile and big attitude and bigger heart.? She smiled tenderly as she thought about him. ?He let me be me. Good and bad, and through it all he loves me, for me.?

Mason glanced up at the picture of her and Lou again. He hoped Eva would say the same thing about him one day.

?And he?s a freak in bed.?

?I so didn?t need to know that Madge.?

At her gesture Mason stood up and got a full look at himself in the mirror. He groaned inside but reminded himself what this was for. It wouldn?t be so bad.

When Mason stepped out onto the street he noticed a kid and his mom across the street. The kid was pointing at him. Mason started to wave and the kid let out a blood curdling scream. The mom didn?t stop to consider. She just grabbed her kid up and started running, screaming........

?TROLL!!!?

The Rock - "Guerrilla Gourmet"

Smooth as silk. That was the texture of the puree. Lightly roasted cauliflower that would retain a hint of smokiness even as it was rendered into the rich puree. Resting on the puree in the center of the plate was a trio of sea scallops. Seared to perfection, golden. The darker edges promising a hint of caramelized crunch before giving way to the succulent and sweet tender meat of the scallop. As a foil to the sweetness of the scallops and richness of the cauliflower puree a small chopped arugula salad that had been dressed with a citrus vinaigrette rested upon the scallops.

That was just the appetizer...


Up in the hills, just outside the city, an event was taking place. An array of vehicles, all top of the line, were parked around the half crumbled remains of an abandoned castle. The drivers of those vehicles stood around a fire someone had built in an old fire pit keeping warm and chatting while their employers were inside. Not the place you would expect to find the top of Rhydin High Society on a snowy night. At the center of it all....Mason.

The idea had come to him shortly after the Troll incident while he was doing some shopping in the Market. He spied a face he knew despite the man?s attempt at disguise with dark glasses and low brimmed hat. Charles Davenport. Mason knew the man as a guest of many of the parties Delectable Cravings catered. it was clear that the man was enjoying an adventure amongst the ?common people? as he whispered and laughed with his companion as he ushered her from one food stand to another.

That was when Guerrilla Gourmet was born.

It was a small gamble. Mason would have to use a little of the money he had made so far to get things rolling. But as with most things he tried to do, he relied heavily on bartering and the network of friends he had. His buddy Tony and his sons helped with the set-up in exchange for a promise from Mason to help man their booth at a street festival. Blair, his boss at Delectable Craving Catering gave him a good price on the rental of the portable kitchen and tables, chairs and settings. The fact of the matter was Mason insisted that she charge him something for their use. She would have done it for free even though he wouldn?t tell her what he needed the money for. Mason had just smiled when she asked and told her she?d find out when the time was right. Tom didn?t care if Mason paid him or not to be his sous chef, the youngster jumped at the chance because it would give him an opportunity to learn.

The event was set in motion by an anonymous letter to Charles Davenport. Mason knew from the few conversations they had had that the man was too much of a Foodie to pass up a dining adventure. Mason also knew that where Charles went, others followed. Over the week before the event clues started showing up around New Haven. Those in the know could easily follow one clue to the next until they had the information on when and where to be for the adventure.

More than a few of them had to be having second thoughts as their drivers pulled up around the remains of the castle. The braver of the guests led the way past the splintered remains of a great oaken gate and into the courtyard. A few gasps sounded as the rest caught up.

Dancing light from wall sconces lit the courtyard. Crisp white tablecloths, fine china, sterling flatware and crystal glasses set upon the semi-circle of tables around an old fountain pool. That fountain served as the stage for the kitchen, after all the cooking was part of the show.

?Welcome intrepid guests to Guerilla Gourmet!? Mason, wearing a black chef coat with gray piping and a GG logo, smiled from the fountain stage.

A pair of young men dressed in black moved through the crowd collecting coats and wraps and guided the diners to their tables. The oohs and aahs continued as the guests found themselves warm despite the cold air outside. Some looked up, perhaps expecting some ceiling and found only the star filled winter night sky above them. Mason grinned as he saw the reaction. The small device Blair had bought in Star?s End that generated a force dome to keep the elements out had been a good investment, even if it took Mason forever to set it up. That?s what he had Tom for, the youngster could flip a few switches and tap in a code and have the dome ready in seconds.

As the guests were seated Mason and Tom got to work on the appetizer. The mountain of a man was light on his feet as he moved around the kitchen area. Cooking was part of the ?show? and Mason slipped in an extra flourish here and there as he cooked. But despite the ?show? and his easy going manner he had high standards when it came to his food. When Tom brought him the bowl of chopped arugula he rejected it. ?It?s too uneven, dude.? Mason grinned at the youngster to ease the sting of failure. Part of the reason Tom was here was to learn. ?Stop picking your knife up so much, just let it rock. Just like sex...a nice rocking motion gets the job done.? He laughed as Tom?s ears turned bright red but when Tom brought the second try back for inspection Mason clapped him on the back. ? Perfect. Wasn?t that an easier way to do it, felt more natural??

?Yeah.? Tom admitted.

Mason grinned ?So, it was good for you too.? It took a second for Tom to get it. His ears were bright red again as he moved off to work on the dressing.

When it came to plating, it was all Mason. The big man hunched down over the row of plates adding each component with careful precision until the row of plate each contained the sculpture of food he had envisioned. He straightened up and gave a nod to the waiters, giving them the go ahead to serve.

While the waiters were serving Mason moved back to the stove and carefully pulled out a large clay stew pot and set it on a cart as he called Tom over. Just by the tone of his voice Tom knew this was one of Mason?s life lesson moments. Mason draped a companionable arm across the youngsters shoulder. ?I want you to roll this out to the drivers with my compliments.? He pointed to a couple of bottles of wine next to the bowls and spoons on the bottom of the cart. ? And those are compliments of you. Always treat the staff respectfully. They?ll get you in more backdoors than their employers will get you in the front.? Sure enough the drivers were surprised and pleased when Tom presented them with the pot of lamb and root vegetable stew from the Chef.When he pulled out the bottles of wine and said they were from him, Tom got a cheer, he?d be remembered by the drivers.

While Tom was serving the drivers Mason made his rounds of the tables, chatting with the guests, answering their question about the food,taking their compliments graciously and hinting about the next event.

The evening was going better than Mason had imagined. The guests tonight would spread the word. Others, not wanting to be left out of the newest ?in crowd? thing to do, would be searching for clues for the next event.

As the diners sighed expectantly at the sultry sizzle of the pistachio crusted lamb chops meeting the hot pans for the next course Mason knew he had a gold mine.

Correction...a diamond mine.

The double brownstone fit in on the well groomed streets of New Haven. With its clean lines and decorative iron work balcony, The Hope Creative Gallery looked like it belonged in New Haven.

The mountain of a man pacing across the street didn?t look like he belonged there at all. Mason paced up and down the pavement across from the gallery. One direction walked, his hand rubbed the back of his neck. When he turned the hand shifted to rub at his chest through his open coat. Nervous glances shot across the street to the gallery.

With his black knit skull cap pulled down low over his brow, the black leather peacoat, faded jeans and work boots and nervous pacing and glances, Mason didn?t fit in on that street. If the Watch happened by they would more likely peg him for a thief casing the gallery rather than just a nervous man in love shopping for a ring.

Like a trapped animal pacing along the edge of confinement, Mason walked up and down the sidewalk. Finally having to bury his hands deep in his coat pockets to avoid rubbing a hole through his shirt and into his chest.

He?d been inside before. Delectable Craving Catering had catered the fashion show that was also the grand opening for the gallery. But that had been different, there wasn?t so much.....art. In the rush to get the gallery finished in time for the show and opening its owner, Juliane, hadn?t had time to gather pieces from an array of artists. All of the pieces hung that night were her own. Mason had been able to deal with that. He had been working, that had kept his mind busy but more than that Eva had been there.

Eva. That was why he was here. His steps slowed as he thought about her. Mental pictures filling his mind. Instead of the ghastly images trapped within gilded frames that had been his past the pictures became snapshots of her. One of her with a slight furrow to her brow and end of a pen tapping her lips as she worked on the crossword puzzle from the paper on Sunday mornings. Another of her with that little scrunch of her nose thing that she did when she was drifting off to sleep. One after another pictures of moments with her filled the gallery of his mind. That was the art of his world now.

Mason stepped into the street, crossed, and went inside Hope Creative Gallery.

He received a warm welcome from Juliane Smith when she saw him standing there just inside the doorway looking a little shifty and nervous. Teasing ensued when he announced that he was not there for the art but was there for jewelry.

That classic Smith grin deepened into a rich smile as Mason took a seat and told her it was not just jewelry he was after, it was an engagement ring. Any questions the woman might have had about his nervous appearance were explained by that statement. Juliane suppressed a squeal of excitement but that excitement was evident in her bouncy stride as she left the office and went to the safe to pull out the appropriate stock of Johnny?s work.

Mason?s eyes grew wide as he looked at all the rings on the velvet mat she laid on her desk. They were all stunning creations and the pride in her brothers craftsmanship was clearly evident as Juliane recited the specifics of each ring.

As they moved through the rings it was easy for Mason to admire the designs of different metals and gems but none of them screamed Eva until they were almost to the end of the first tray. While most of Johnny?s rings had a modern design feel to them there was one among them that had an old world look to it. He looked up at Juliane silently asking if it was alright for him to pick it up. When she nodded he gingerly lifted the ring from the velvet and looked closely at the details. It was perfect. One of those pictures in his mind changed. He could see the ring on her finger as she pondered over the crosswords.

?This one, this is the one.?

A few days later Juliane arrived at Delectable just as Mason and the rest of the staff were locking up and leaving for the evening. She had finished the engraving Mason had wanted inside the band and wanted to bring it by for him. Well aware of all the eyes of his coworkers on them, Mason took the small box from Juliane and slipped it into his pocket as he thanked her. She grinned at his clandestine manner but since he had made her promise not to tell anyone about the ring she played along. She gave him a friendly hug and went on her way.

With all the looks there was no way Mason was going to pull the ring box out and open it right there. It wasn?t until he was halfway home that he reached into his pocket as he waited on a corner for a break in the traffic and pulled out the box and opened it. A smile spread across his features as he looked at the ring then carefully lifted it out of the box to read the inscription.

?Perfect? he murmured to himself as he set the ring back in the box. Before he could close it he heard a wistful sigh beside him. Mason turned his head and saw a woman who had also stopped to wait for the traffic. She was looking at the ring and smiling softly. When she noticed Mason looking at her she shifted away a little but the smile remained.

?Someone is going to be a lucky lady.? She nodded to the ring.

Mason looked down at the ring again before snapping the box shut. His smile big and hopeful.

?No, ma?am. If the lady says yes, then I?m the lucky one.?