The next day, Spruce freshened himself up and got ready for his meet with Brandy. However, he had a strong feeling that, due to his fame and good looks, the rest of the locals would be flocking over him like buzzards. So, he tied his hair into a bun, covered it with a sun hat, covered his eyes shimmering indigo eyes with sunglasses, and slipped on a button up shirt. Once he was ready, he headed straight out the door and into town.

“Okay, Brandy's flat should be here somewhere..." Spruce said to himself as he went up one of the towers of the giant sandcastle at the heart of Vacay Island, reading a card with an address on it. “But where?"

Then, he found a bunch of boxes of various objects outside the door of a housing complex. Inside were some old birthday cards, valentines, and photos of Brandy and her ex-boyfriend. All the boxes were labeled, “Useless junk!!! }:(". Figuring this was the place, Spruce rang the doorbell.

“Good afternoon, I'm here to see Brandy," Spruce said in the microphone.

“Wait one second," the voice said. After about thirty seconds, the door opened and Spruce stepped inside. He headed up a couple more flights of stairs and down a hall until he reached Brandy's place. He knocked on the door and waited patiently until she answered.

“Spruce, you actually made it!" Brandy said, delightfully surprised.

Why wouldn't I? Spruce silently asked himself, happy to see her smiling. She had such a nice smile, he thought. Instead, though, he just removed his hat and glasses, climbed onto her kitchen counter, and said, “As promised. Now, care to show me what you can do?"

“Um, okay," she replied nervously. “I should probably give you a heads up... I've never cooked for a stranger before."

“Well, how about a friend?" Spruce asked. Feeling slightly more confident, Brandy cracked her knuckles, flipped an hourglass, and placed a cast iron grill pan on her stove.

Spruce watched closely as she turned on the oven, washed her soft, gentle hands, and placed some ground meat into a bowl. Mixing in some seasoning, Brandy squeezed a little of the meat into a tiny ball, smushed it into a patty, and gently rested it on the pan. As she chopped a tomato, some of the juice accidentally squirted onto Spruce's face, but he was too marveled by the dedication in her dazzling eyes to care. Once he noticed Brandy looking at him, however, he wiped his face clean and attempted to hold back a blush.

Once the patty was flipped, she went to fill a glass with ice, carefully poured grapefruit juice, cranberry juice, and peach nectar over it, and topped it with a cherry and an orange slice. Once the patty was done cooking, she placed a piece of lettuce on a wheat bun, followed by a slice of tomato, and a little onion. After putting the patty on top of the veggies, she made a smiley face out of ketchup and mustard, gently layered it with cheese, and topped with the other half of the bun.

“Here you go!" Brandy said. “A Troll-sized version of Brandy's Burger, served with Hugs on the Beach!"

“Looks pretty good," Spruce replied, eyeing it carefully. “Nicely cooked, veggies chopped with precision. And it didn't take you too long."

“And how does it taste?" Brandy asked eagerly.

“Well," he said, “just to warn you, my opinion on that may not be a very good one to go by. I haven't actually eaten a burger since I was fifteen."

Brandy raised an eyebrow. “You're kidding."

“You can't get abs like these from eating greasy sludge balls," Spruce explained, lifting the hem of his shirt up to show off his rock-hard bod. “Or, at least, that's what John Dory told me."

“Well, then, maybe you shouldn't have abs," Brandy said with a smirk.

“Very funny," Spruce replied sarcastically, then took a bite of the burger. Once the flavor settled into his taste buds, he felt a wave of pleasure go through his entire mouth. It felt like the combination of a warm hug, a sunset, and when they play that one song on the radio that you can't help singing along to.

To Spruce, it was heaven on a plate.

“Well...?"

Realizing he had been silent for too long, Spruce swallowed, placed it back down on the plate, took a sip of the mocktail, and said, “I think you have what it takes."

Brandy's face lit up. “For real?!"

“Absolutely," Spruce replied, discreetly licking his lips. Despite his attempt to wash it down, the taste of the burger still hadn't left his brain. This woman was an artist!

At that moment, the two of them heard a knock at the door and as Brandy went to answer it, Spruce grabbed the burger and finished it up before she could notice.

“Brand, I'm really sorry about you and Ryan," another woman said at the door. Once Spruce was done with his meal, he hid behind a ketchup bottle so Brandy's friend wouldn't notice him.

“Don't be," Brandy replied. “I guess I was just too in love with the idea of him to realize how much he really sucks. I mean, he told me a girl who goes to culinary school is just a girl who tries too hard."

“Speaking of culinary school, is something cooking in here?" her friend asked. Brandy turned her head to find a tuft of Spruce's hair behind the ketchup bottle and the rest of the tiny burger gone.

“I was just making myself some lunch," she lied. “But nobody else, since... y'know..."

“Hey, it'll be okay," Brandy's friend assured her. “In fact, I think I have an idea. Now that's he's out of the way, you should take part in the 16th Annual Vacay Island Cooking Fest. It's not a competition, but you could win everyone's hearts."

“But isn't there a five-hundred sand dollar participation fee?" Brandy asked. “I can barely make it as a bartender, even when Ryan was here."

“Maybe you can take a second job," her friend suggested. “Or start a small catering business. That's what my cousin did when he opened his own bakery."

“Jules, you know I'm not that great at business," Brandy admitted. “I mean, telling people what to do, speaking up, giving instructions... I couldn't even keep my family together when Mom died."

“All I'm saying is you're full of potential, and when you got it, you need to flaunt it."

“She's right about that," Spruce suddenly said, then covered his mouth in shock.

“Brandy, is someone in there?" Jules asked.

“What? No!" Brandy lied. “That was, uh... just the TV. Forgot to hit the mute button."

Not falling for it, Jules stepped inside and looked around to find Spruce standing on the counter, giving her a nervous smile.

“Since when did you get a pet?"

“Hey!" Spruce shouted. “I'm not a pet! I'm a Troll, darn it!"

“Hey, aren't you Spruce from BroZone?" Jules asked, her face lighting up.

“Uh..."

“Of course, he isn't!" Brandy insisted, attempting to help him out. “Not all Trolls look alike, Julie."

“Yeah!" Spruce agreed. “My name is, uh... Uh... Um, uh... Bruce...? Yeah, that's it! Bruce. I've never even heard of this BroZone, or whatever you just said."

“I think he's lying," Jules whispered to Brandy.

“Why would someone lie about not being famous?" Brandy pointed out.

“You're right. I mean, I sure wouldn't," Jules realized. “Well, I better get going. Drowning beach goers aren't gonna rescue themselves."

Once Jules left the room, Brandy closed the door and said to Spruce, “Really? Bruce?"

“I panicked!" Spruce said defensively. “But in all seriousness, I think you should take her advice. This cooking fest could open up some new opportunities for you."

“Maybe," Brandy replied, leaning against a window. “Still, it's been a while since I've shown off my skills."

“Well, what you did just now shows you got 'em," Spruce pointed out. “And maybe, if you'd like... I could be of some assistance."

“What can you do?" she asked.

“I'm good around people," he explained. “I can also grill a mean ahi tostada. And I can get a job and help pay for that fee. Once we make enough, I'll be on my way and you can follow your dreams."

Brandy thought about this for a moment and said, “I guess I could use the help."

“Is that a yes?" Spruce asked eagerly. Giggling, Brandy nodded. “Perfect!"

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Happy Trolls month! 💗