Tommy Jensen, was the first to jump up to help Kelley with the coffee and food for the hands, as there seemed to be a virtual race, to help her bring in the food and coffee, all of a sudden.

Tommy beat everyone else to the kitchen.

Chuck wasn't fast or close enough to beat Tommy to the kitchen and thought, “Good luck, buddy. I see, I'll have some competition for that lady.”

“Need some help, sexy?” Tommy asked flirtatiously, as he strutted into the kitchen.

“Um, oh, yeah, sure. Grab that big coffee pot and put it in there on the buffet table, by the wall. Be sure to plug it in, I don't want the coffee getting cold.” Kelly said. “All you'd need to do is sit next to it, baby. You're hot enough to keep anything warm, I'm sure.” Tommy said, flirting even harder.

“Be careful, it's hot and heavy.” she answered, pointing at the large, twenty five cup capacity, brand new looking, coffee pot, ignoring the complementary and crude flirt.

Tommy figured that Kelley was playing hard to get. Tommy had become accustomed to women doing that with him, since he had left High School.

He had been a pitcher for his High School's, All Star baseball team and had led them to a State Championship. During that last year, he had to practically fight the girls off. His 19 yo, 5'11 & 1/2” tall, 185 lb, pitcher's body, with his thick head of blue-black hair, generally elicited favorable responses from young women and got him, his idea of a date.

After high school, he moved to a new city for college and the young women there, weren't impressed with a champion high school baseball player.

Then, to make matters worse for him, his professors were serious, about him studying and learning the subjects they taught. He could no longer “cruise” through his classes, not show up for lectures and party all night, without studying. Even worse than that, he was dropped from the baseball team for poor grades.

His ego, had not yet, been deflated enough by the fairer sex, up to then so, he just pushed even harder to get young women to date him. His aggressive behavior was usually enough to win him a date with the object of his desire. His idea of a date, was a naked wrestling match, in the back seat of his car.

Kelly, picked up the platter with a pitcher of fresh cream and a bowl of sugar on it. She followed Tommy into the dining room, where she placed it on the table for the hands to use in their coffee if they wanted. Kelly, then returned to the kitchen, to get the rest of breakfast for the hands, followed closely by Tommy.

When they both were in the kitchen again, Tommy, got really close, behind Kelly and said in a quiet voice. “You cook, you clean, you do the books, do you also do wifely duties? Or do I leave a tip on your night stand in the morning?”

Kelly bristled at the closeness and the questions pissed her off. She giggled deceptively and leaned back slightly, as she stepped back with her right, bulldog heeled boot, hard, on Tommy's instep, while dropping the cast iron skillet, she had been considering hitting him with, on the floor, to cover for Tommy's cry of pain, which was indeed loud.

Kelly then said in a low, angry tone, after tossing her hair and laughing at Tommy's pain, “Not 'till there's a five thousand dollar ring on my finger, after dating for at least a year, cowboy. And you are definitely not my type, boy.” Kelley picked up a large platter of food which was separated into three sections, containing sausage patties and links at one end, a mound of bacon at the other end and hash browns in the center. Then Kelly said, “Grab that other platter and bring it to the dining room, when you can walk again, gelding.” She tossed her hair again and giggled as she sashayed into the dining room, swinging her hips, in teasing emphasis, for Tommy.

Kelly set the platter down on the table, beaming happily, at having shut Tommy down so effectively.

“What the hell was that racket, Miss Lowery? It sounded like Tommy dropped a skillet on his foot.” Asked Foreman Mitchel, sounding genuinely concerned.

Just then, Tommy came limping into the dining room, carrying a platter of food. It held, a large bowl of cream chipped beef, freshly baked biscuits, toast, butter, grape jam and a bowl of freshly cubed fruits. He set it on the table with a sideways, displeased look, at Kelley, before taking his seat at the table.

“That's exactly what happened, Boss. Tommy's not the brightest bulb in the box, Sir. He grabbed a hot skillet and instantly dropped it on his foot, instead of using a hot pad to pick up a hot, cast iron, skillet.” Kelley said, innocently.

Kelley's explanation elicited a round of laughter from nearly everyone at the table. Even the normally stern Foreman, snickered at her explanation.

Chuck snickered and thought, “I think my competition pool just got smaller by one.”