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When Cale ducks into the awning covered doorway of Makar Catering it’s 7am and of all things, Get Rich or Die Tryin’ is blaring over the store’s speakers which means Danny beat Maria to the aux. It was then that Cale should have known today was going to test him.
“Good morning,” Cale calls out as he weaves through the small retail space in the front of the store and back into the kitchen. For there to only be two other people working at this hour, it looks rather busy. There’s a massive container of bread dough sitting on one counter next to a floured surface, two separate industrial sized mixers churning away along the wall, and at least four broken eggs on the floor.
Danny appears from the storage closet with a mop and cheerily waves when he sees Cale. Maria however ignores Cale as she emerges from the washroom, apron visibly stained with egg yolks and cheeks flushed in anger as she glares stonily at a grinning Danny. Cale considers not asking but he’s the only other person here until at least 10 and honestly he’s too curious for his own good.
“What happened?” Cale asks, directing the question towards Maria who moves to the empty workbench and starts pulling pans for her next project.
Maria, of course, does not answer. “Had a little run into each other. All’s good bossman, just need a cleanup on aisle 2,” Danny explains with a shake of the mop in his hand before he starts on cleaning up the broken eggs. Cale looks back to Maria who has not stopped glaring at Danny and figures retreating to his office is his best course of action.
He does so without announcement, just turns the corner and ducks into the third doorway on the left. When he flips the light switch, he swallows back a groan as he sees the disarray of his desk. When he’d left it this way yesterday, he obviously knew cleaning fairies wouldn’t come in the middle of the night to organize the chaos but there was always some part of him that just forgot. Shrugging his coat off and throwing it across his desk chair, he began to straighten up.
Half an hour and one papercut later, Cale and his Hello Kitty bandaid were sat at the now clean desk, tapping away on his keyboard when someone knocked on his open door.
“Guess what I saw this morning,” Danny starts without any greeting. When Cale looks up from his computer screen and up at the other man, he lets his head tilt to the side as he looks over him.
“Obviously not yourself in a mirror. What’s up with the beard?”
Danny’s lips turn down in a frown as one hand comes up to pet the longer than normal scruff.
“I thought it looked good. Rugged, ya know?”
“It looks like pubic hair is going to get into the bread dough,” Cale shoots back and Danny looks affronted.
“I’ll put a hair net on it,” he insists, then seems to recall why he is here bothering Cale in the first place and leans into the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. “C’mon, guess what I saw!”
Cale takes in a deep breath through his nose, holds it for five seconds, and releases it slowly. “What Danny?”
Danny’s delighted grin is enough to make Cale’s lips turn down. “MacKinnon is going vegetarian.”
With a groan, Cale’s head drops to his desk, his monthly calendar filled to the brim with important dates and order details muffling the thud. Danny, the jerk, laughs.
“I know right! Can you even get enough protein and stuff on that? Like, for what a professional athlete needs?” Danny asks because he’s a baker and sometimes a bit of a cook here which means he makes what Cale asks him to and doesn’t read much into it other than that.
“You can,” Cale concedes because his degree in nutrition wasn’t for nothing, “Just means hours of research and planning for us.”
“Well,” Danny wonders, “Research and planning for you, right bossman?”
Danny is unfortunately very correct.
Cale doesn’t read too far into internet fads. Really, he’s mostly aware of it because of the changes in his orders. When Keto started getting big, lots of his clients were asking for low carb, high fat alternatives. At first, he tried to explain why those kinds of diets didn’t work for everyone but enough blank stares and people insisting that it would work for them had worn him down. When he transformed the old catering business that had been passed onto him into his own, he wanted a focus on accommodating dietary restrictions mainly because of his own experiences. He had a great friend in high school who had celiac disease and Cale always the empath felt bad that there weren’t more gluten free versions of everyday food.
So when Makar Catering became a reality, inclusivity was a key point for Cale. All of the mainstays and favorites like the lasagna, chicken soup, stew, were offered in a range of options to reflect different dietary restrictions. Cale pitched it as a way to help keep everyone feeling included and the Denver area had eaten it up.
They also had eaten up every internet trend on how carbs and sugar were poison which is how the health nuts found Cale’s store. Suddenly, he had enough demand to roll out plenty of low carb, no sugar, paleo options as well. Sure, it was a lot to juggle, but the store had been in the green for over a year now and Cale wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
It there was one horse that could give Cale pause though, it was Colorado Avalanche star center Nathan MacKinnon.
Most weeks, Cale is grateful that one of his clients was pleased enough with his food to recommend his company to the captain of the Colorado Avalanche. Some weeks though, he kind of wants to hunt them down.
Cale closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The word document before him was an attempt to straighten out the chaos of his notepad on his desk where he had begun brainstorming for Nathan MacKinnon’s new issues. Gluten free wasn’t a big deal. Cale had plenty of experience with it and had drilled the staff about best practices regarding cross contamination. He’d dedicated months to testing recipes to make sure they actually tasted good. Same thing with all the daisy free options. Take out gluten and dairy and Cale can still give you a two to three week rotation of lunches and dinners that provide all the nutritional value needed and taste great.
This, apparently, was not good enough for Nathan MacKinnon.
Cale had spent the past four hours scouring the internet for ideas, doing calculations to see how to fit all of the macros MacKinnon’s nutritionist had outlined for him in the most restrictive diet possible.
Not the most restrictive Cale thought to himself. Veganism would be worse and he really did not want to jinx himself.
He thought it over while working through the other orders for the week out in the kitchen. Thought about it some more on his two hours working the register, then did some more brainstorming as he worked on prep for the next day and breakdown.
By the end of the day he had a game plan and schedule for MacKinnon’s pick up on Friday. The satisfaction of the feat was what propelled him into accepting Donna’s suggestion to join her and a few friends out for drinks at a local bar.
“You were really quiet today,” Donna says, handing Cale an opened beer as she settles into the booth beside him. Cale accepts the beer with a thanks, taking a swig before answering.
“Had a big puzzle, needed all the brain power I could get,” Cale explains.
“I thought your job would be more manual labor focused,” Donna’s friend Ashlynn comments from across the table. Her tone isn’t malicious, just curious in that blunt way he’s found some people here are.
Donna laughs, “Maybe my job is more labor but Cale here is the one who thinks up everything.”
Ashlynn and their other friend Fred beside her nod before they start in on another topic with Donna. Cale thinks about practicing active listening like his mother suggests and getting involved but there’s a IIHF game on one of the TVs above the TV that captures his attention.
Donna and her friends talk, occasionally pulling Cale back into the conversation but mostly letting him sip his beer and watch the game in silence. Throughout the two or so hours they are there, Cale feels a prickling at the back of his neck like someone is looking at him but every time he turns to scan the room, no one is.
He figures the lack of sleep he’s getting is manifesting in some weird sense of paranoia and tells Donna he needs to head out. He only drank one beer the whole night and mostly didn’t talk but it’s more socialization outside of work than he’s had in weeks.
The rest of the week passes as it always does. The usual monotony of the beginning of summer is hard to beat and the shop is busy with end of school year parties and some early weddings.
Friday seems to come out of nowhere but Cale blames that on Danny taking off time for his mom’s birthday which means Cale covers bread for three days. Which means that when the clock shows 8 on Friday and Maia sticks her head into the kitchen, Cale is covered in a light dusting of flour and is sure his forehead is shiny with sweat as he pulls cooled loaves from their pans.
“Hey bossman,” Maia calls, waiting until Cale turns to her before continuing, “MacKinnon is here for his pickup and he’s got some questions.”
Cale wants to sigh. Or cry. Or scream. Maybe all of them at the same time. But that is a walk in freezer activity, so he refrains.
Instead he tells Maia he’ll be out in a minute and washes his hands, pulls off his apron, and tries to clean any sweat and grime from his face and neck. He doesn’t even want to think about what he looks like as he steps out of the kitchen and towards the register.
The shop is empty per usual for a Friday at 8. Usually they get a crowd in closer to 10 with people prepping for the weekend. So for now it’s just MacKinnon poking at a loaf of rye bread in the stand next to the register.
Two years ago when Cale first saw the name Nathan MacKinnon on an email asking about dietary accommodations, he’d been more than a bit star struck. Sue him, he grew up in hockey loving Calgary and had idolized Sidney Crosby to the point of sexual discovery. Of course the 6 foot tall Nova Scotian up and coming hockey prodigy Nathan MacKinnon was going to catch his eye. The first in person interaction however had swiftly brought Cale back to earth as a blond man asked him if he knew what macros were. Safe to say, Cale got over the crush quickly.
“Hi Mr. MacKinnon,” weird to say outloud but Cale prides himself on professionalism with his clients, “How can I help you?”
If Cale would look back on the handful of times he’s spoken to Nathan MacKinnon face to face with mild disappointment and annoyance, he’s pretty sure Nathan wouldn’t even be able to recall them enough to form an opinion considering the narrow eyed look of confusion he always fixed Cale with and the fact that Cale’s pretty sure Nathan doesn’t even remember his name.
“Where’s Danny?” MacKinnon asks, completely ignoring the question and craning his head to look over Cale’s shoulder like the man is question might just appear from thin air. Cale holds back a grimace and sticks a good old customer service smile onto his face. He’d worked as a waiter in fine dining for years, MacKinnon’s lack of manners are practically child’s play.
“Danny’s not in today,” Cale answers, which causes MacKinnon’s eyes to snap back to him. MacKinnon seems to look Cale over, maybe sizing him up or trying to figure out if they’ve met before. If he asks, Cale will be kind and say maybe in passing because unlike MacKinnon, he has manners.
“I need to make sure the new meal plan still sticks to my diet plan. All the same nutritional value, macros, and stuff,” MacKinnon says slowly like Cale might not know what those words mean. Cale wills his cheeks not to flush as they so often do against his wishes because this guy is seriously doing this again and he’s been working ragged this week and MacKinnon has already gone and soured his Friday.
Cale takes in a deliberately slow breath through his nose, holds it for five seconds, and then exhales to keep from snapping at the man. “I can help,” he says and takes another breath when the doubtful expression appears on MacKinnon’s face, “I built the plan so I’m more than apt to go over it with you.”
MacKinnon’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion and if Cale didn’t have so much anger coursing through him, he’d think it was cute. “Danny said your nutritionist consultant built the plans,” and then looks over Cale again as if emphasizing his disbelief that Cale was qualified such.
Cale’s smile almost falters. “I am the nutritionist consultant,” he answers and MacKinnon doesn’t look convinced. “I’ve been making all of your meal plans for the past year and a half.” MacKinnon just blinks. Cale must be losing the fight with his cheeks because MacKinnon’s eyes drop down to his neck, up over his jaw and onto the skin Cale’s sure must be flushing pink. “Would you like to see the degree I have?” Cale asks through gritted teeth. He notices that his fingernails have hooked onto the register’s desk, digging into the soft wood. He forces himself to relax, shoulders dropping down as he looks back up at MacKinnon who has this wide eyed stupid look on his face.
“Mr. MacKinnon?” Cale asks after a silence long enough that it feels to awkward not to. MacKinnon is just staring at him, or his face apparently because he isn’t looking Cale in the eyes. When Cale calls his name, he seems to snap out of it, eyes flicking up to meet Cale’s before dropping back down to the bag full of his freezer ready meals.
Apparently kickstarted, MacKinnon starts to pick up the bag. Cale watches in mute confusion.
“Did you want me to get you the nutrition sheet on those?” Cale asks because MacKinnon still hasn’t said anything. He’s gathered the large bag in his hand and slings it onto his shoulder before finally looking back at Cale who cannot for the life of him read the expression on his face or figure out why MacKinnon’s eyes keep flickering down towards his shirt.
“All good man. See you later,” MacKinnon says so fast Cale can barely keep up before he’s turning on his heel and heading to the door. Cale glances down at the desk, sees the paid receipt for the order, and doesn’t call out for him. He still watches though and is only more confused when upon stepping out of the restaurant, MacKinnon looks back and waves. By the time Cale’s mind computes that MacKinnon was just waving goodbye like some normal person had taken over his body, MacKinnon is gone.
“That was weird,” Cale whips around to see Maia leaning against the entrance to the kitchen. “Is he always that weird?” She asks which makes sense. Cale had brought Maia on part time for the summer so her one week tenure had not included the famous Nathan MacKinnon until today.
“No,” Cale answered, “He’s usually just a prick.” Maia laughs and when Cale heads past her, back into the kitchen, she heads back out to straighten up stock.
Cale pulls back on his apron and finished getting the loaves out of their pans and ready to be bagged for the day. By the time 10 rolls around and the regular crows shuffles in, Cale is far too busy to remember the odd encounter with Nathan MacKinnon.
Friday passes quickly, as does the weekend. With Danny back, Cale has more time to start plans for upcoming orders and ends up holed in his office for more time than he’d like. Between the hours of solitude in the office and the long hours of the shop, he’s relegated to his lonely apartment just 5 or so hours a day usually. Cale feels exhausted most of the time but being at the shop where even in his office he can hear Danny’s atrocious singing or Maia and Tim’s obnoxious laughter is preferable to home.
Monday brings a surprise. A 6 foot tall surprise.
It’s Donna who’s at the register when he comes in apparently because it’s Donna who knocks on Cale’s door with wide, curious eyes and relays the message.
“Nathan MacKinnon is here. He’s asking if you have a few minutes to meet with him.”
Cale can’t help the slightly incredulous, “What?” that escapes him. Donna just shrugs and seeing no other option, tells her to send him on back. The man certainly pays enough money to warrant a one on one meeting. Cale just has no idea why he would want one.
When Nathan MacKinnon’s looming figure appears in his doorway, Cale stands up and holds out a hand because it feels like the right thing to do. MacKinnon doesn’t look as… disheveled as he was leaving the shop Friday. No wide eyed confusion or slight spaciness as he shakes Cale’s hand, then sits in the chair opposite of Cale’s.
“Good to see you,” Cale offers, not really meaning it, “How can I help you?”
MacKinnon doesn’t waste a breath. “I don’t like the meals you gave me.” He doesn’t say it in a mean way, just a matter of fact and blunt way that still makes Cale’s eyes go wide. He’d personally tried every single one of those dishes he’d made. They tasted great. Apparently sensing Cale’s line of thought, MacKinnon’s eyes go wide as he continues, “They tasted good! Swear, I just. I thought the vegetarian thing would be good to try and I don’t like it.” Which is fair enough, Cale knows that.
“So are you wanting to go back to the gluten free, dairy free for next week? I could probably get you a few days worth today but I’ll need a couple days to get a full week set,” Cale offers and doesn’t throw in that MacKinnon should be heading home for the summer soon anyways because it seems like an odd thing to say to someone you don’t really know.
MacKinnon contemplates this but seemingly mid though gets distracted by something behind Cale’s head. He thinks about it what it could be for exactly one second before internally groaning. MacKinnon’s eyebrows are furrowed together now and he looks off put which is odd but considering the poster-
“Is that a Preds flag?” MacKinnon asks, disgust evident in his voice and Cale’s affronted scoff comes out too quick to stop it.
“What’s wrong with the Preds?” he shoots back before he can stop himself. MacKinnon finally looks back at him and practically glares.
“Who do they even have that’s halfway decent?”
Cale almost thinks about not answering but - “Roman Josi.” It’s a good answer, Cale knows that. Josi is a Norris trophy winner. He’s also hotter than the sun and obviously that makes Cale a bit more partial too him but he’s not some girl so he assumes MacKinnon won’t read into it that way.
You know what they say about assuming.
MacKinnon’s eyes go wide and the stupidest laugh bubbles from his chest, “You just think he’s hot.”
Cale’s cheeks burn.
The fact of his red cheeks do not help him as though MacKinnon isn’t chuckling anymore, he’s all wide eyed and spacey looking again in seconds as his eyes drop back to Cale’s neck and cheeks.
“Josi is a Norris trophy winning defenseman,” Cale defends himself and doesn’t say anything to discount the fact that MacKinnon clocked him as that same dopey smile remains on MacKinnon’s face.
MacKinnon isn’t as spacey as Cale was giving him credit for. “So you like defensemen?” MacKinnon asks and Cale freezes because he knows that tone.
The way MacKinnon’s voice dropped a note, the frankly heated look in the other man’s eyes and the way he can’t stop looking at Cale’s flushed cheeks. Cale hated them at first, guys were always goading him into blushing and it caused a lot of virgin jokes in school. But nowadays when Cale is trying to pick up on one of the few nights he gets out of the shop early, some guys see the cheeks as a fun challenge. Apparently, ‘some guys’ might just include Nathan MacKinnon.
Cale clears his throat, trying to not read too far into this. MacKinnon is a prick at the best of times and probably learned Cale’s name this week if he does know it. He’s not turning over that fast.
“I always played defense growing up,” Cale offers as an explanation.
“So you have layers,” MacKinnon says and it’s not a jab. It’s light flirting and Cale knows that but MacKinnon has treated Cale like dirt under his shoe before so he’s not giving it.
Cale rolls his eyes and sits back in his chair. “Most people do. You’d know that if you ever spoke to one.”
MacKinnon’s hot gaze smolders into something confused. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” Cale shrugs and MacKinnon’s eyebrows furrow together.
“Makar,” MacKinnon starts and Cale can’t help the way his stomach flips which is pathetic because who can be that excited a pretty boy knows their name? “I tried to talk to you plenty.”
That is untrue. Blatantly untrue. Rewriting history levels of untrue. It is an affront, as Cale tells him.
“No,” Cale argues, “You tried to school me on what macros were and you refused to talk to me since.”
MacKinnon looks personally offended now. “I asked you one question because you looked straight out of high school. I’ve asked anyone who’s done my meal stuff that,” he explains and cuts Cale off before he can speak, “And you seemed like you were too busy to talk so Danny usually helped me out.”
“What about Friday?” Cale asks because honestly the few interacts he’s had with MacKinnon were short and a while ago so he doesn’t remember them that well. “You’re whole ‘you couldn’t possibly be the nutritionist’ bit?”
“I didn’t say that!” MacKinnon interrupts, “I said that Danny told me there was one who did my plans. He never mentioned it was you. I thought he would have said that so I was just confused!”
“That’s not the way you said it,” Cale felt his cheeks burning as he defended his point of view. “And then, you like didn’t say anything when you were leaving despite asking for me because you had questions.”
It’s MacKinnon’s turn to blush now and Cale isn’t strong enough to keep his eyes on MacKinnon’s blue eyes when his frankly unseasonably pale cheeks flush a pretty pink across his cheekbones. MacKinnon shifts in his chair like he can’t get comfortable and glances towards the open door before looking back to Cale, eyes snagging on Cale’s neck again before settling on his eyes.
“I was,” MacKinnon swallows as his eyes drop again from Cale’s eyes to his warm cheeks, down along his neck to where Cale knows the flush disappears underneath his shirt, “Distracted.”
Cale doesn’t know what to say to that. MacKinnon doesn’t say anything else, just watches and waits as Cale runs through the interaction on Friday again and then through this conversation which puts all his other interactions with MacKinnon into another light.
All he manages in the end is a soft, “Oh.”
MacKinnon scoffs but he doesn’t seem put off, just amused as he settles into his chair, “Yeah.”
It’s Cale’s turn to shift uncomfortably now because he truly doesn’t know where to go from here. Well, he does know that he has to prep the gluten free pasta for tomorrow. But it seems reasonable to put that on the back burner for now.
“So,” Cale starts because MacKinnon never did answer his question, “Do you need meals for this week?”
MacKinnon’s face is blank for two seconds before that dumb (heartwarming) laugh explodes from him again. Cale fights back a smile and loses.
“Actually,” MacKinnon admits, “I do. The stuff you gave me does taste good. I just didn’t like it as much as your usual stuff.”
“Why did you want to try vegetarianism?” Cale asks. MacKinnon looks across the desk to him, looking absolutely sheepish.
“I uh,” MacKinnon stops, then starts again, a hand coming to scratch at the back of his neck, “I was trying to figure out a way to talk to you. Thought you might have questions about it or something which was dumb.”
Cale’s brain is thankfully back online now that Nathan’s cheeks are back to their normal pasty white and he laughs as he puts it together. “Were you trying to annoy me into talking to you?”
The embarrassed smile is enough to send Cale into another fit of giggles.