Take the Cake (7 page)

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Authors: Sandra Wright

BOOK: Take the Cake
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~~~

David slung an arm around Michael’s shoulders and leaned over to shout in his ear.

“Another round?”

“Yeah.” Michael flicked some money toward David, who managed to swipe the bills on his second attempt before ambling off to the bar. Michael watched his progress. His gaze drifted, and then stopped when he realized someone was watching him. She shook her blond hair off her shoulders and nibbled at the straw in her drink; the suggestion in her eyes was unmistakable. Michael stared back as he finished his drink.

David returned from the bar with their drinks, setting them down on the table, and followed Michael’s gaze. “Nice,” he commented. “Listen, man, if you wanna go play, I can find my way home.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Michael replied, accepting the next drink. “She’s not my type.”

David glanced across at the woman, and then gave Michael an incredulous look. “Dude, she’s been watching you like she’s already on her back, and I’m tellin’ you right now, that’s a serious case of ‘fuck me’ eyes she’s giving you.”

“I know,” Michael muttered. “But she’s not—” He stopped with a shrug.

David watched him, his eyes growing wide. “Oh ho, so you’ve got someone else in your sights,” he guessed, grinning when he saw the look on Michael’s face. “I’ll take that as a yes. Who is she?”

“No one you know,” Michael replied, chugging back his beer in a bid to avoid the conversation.

“Because you haven’t made a move yet?” David asked. Michael shot him a quick look. “I’m right again, aren’t I? Damn, I’m good.”

“Yeah, you’re something.” Michael gave him a wry grin.

“So what’s she like?” David’s eyes were alive with curiosity.

“Smart, funny, great laugh, beautiful …” Michael began, pausing as David waved him off.

“Okay, I get the idea. And she’s single?”

“That’s what I’ve been told,” Michael replied, thinking of Wren.

“Well, if she’s that good, you’re going to have to move fast. But you know, before you think about the
what if
there’s always the
now
.”

“What?” Michael’s gaze swung from the blonde back to David.

“You heard me.” David shrugged. “Why deny yourself a
right now
because you’ve got a
what if? Carpe diem
and all that shit.”

“I don’t know,” Michael said, feeling doubtful.

“When in doubt, my friend,” David said, “have another drink. I’ll get us another round.”

David went back to the bar, and Michael looked at the woman again. Maybe David had a point. He’d locked himself away for so long. Maybe it was time to live a little.

~~~

The next morning, Michael surfaced into awareness with considerable reluctance. That’d been some dream. Even the sheets smelled different, and his mouth felt like someone had poured the Sahara Desert into it. That was when he felt the warmth of another body beside him. His eyes flew open, and the first thing he saw was a mass of blond hair on the pillow beside him.

Where the hell was he?

The woman was nothing like Kate. She had blond hair and blue eyes that had blinked slowly before she offered him a lazy smile as he climbed out of bed to get dressed.

“I’ve gotta go,” Michael began, hoping he wasn’t sounding too apologetic as he pulled on his jeans.

“Sure, thanks for the sex.” She smiled again as she eyed his half-dressed form with appreciation. Michael felt a rush of relief that she was content to let the situation be what it was: purely temporary.

He was pulling on his shirt when she spoke again. “Honey, just so you know, I wasn’t her.”

“What?” He looked at her in confusion.

“It was fun and all,” she said, waving a desultory hand, “but I know when a guy’s thinking about someone else.” She considered him for a moment. “You could come back to bed and I’ll make sure your attention stays on me this time.”

“Thanks, but …” Michael paused, and she laughed at his obvious discomfort.

“Sweet boy, thanks for the fun and have a nice life.” She rolled over and snuggled into her pillow, effectively dismissing him. He paused, but she said nothing more so he left, closing the door quietly behind him.

It was still dark when he got outside, and he sighed when a glance at his watch showed the early hour. He’d shower and go to bed when he got home, and hope that tomorrow would be better. There was no doubt that this evening’s “interlude” had provided a measure of release, but he still felt unsatisfied. Perhaps things would look better in the morning.

~~~

The next day, Wren made her way to work, stopping in at a newsstand to buy a copy of her weekly indulgence,
Us Weekly
. She leafed through the pages as she walked, dividing her attention between the oncoming pedestrians and the printed page before her. She stopped at a set of lights, snorting with derision as she read about yet
another
sex-tape scandal.

Two hours later, a man stopped outside the bakery and laughed as he read the quote.

The purpose of life is love,
and the purpose of digital cameras
is to make hot movies of that love.

He went inside and strolled up to the counter. “Nice quote. Who came up with that?”

Kate looked up with a ready smile. The customer was tall and blond with wide, blue, friendly eyes.

“That’d be the work of our resident genius, Wren,” she replied, inclining her head toward Wren, who was working at the coffee machine and who took a moment to bob a quick curtsey before resuming her task.

“Nice.” He grinned, although his gaze hadn’t moved from Kate. Wren bit her lip to hold back a grin. “And you are …?” His voice tailed off and he grinned at Kate hopefully.

Kate managed not to yelp as Wren gave her a swift kick in the shins. “I’m Kate. I own the store,” she said with a nod.


And
she’s the resident cupcake genius,” Wren added.

“Really?” His eyebrows went up as he nodded in appreciation. “Well, Kate, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Tim.”

“Hi.” Kate smiled. “So what can we get you?”

“Hmm.” He made a show of inspecting the case. “Well, I guess that all depends,” he said, looking up at her again.

“Depends on what?”

“On you telling me which cupcake comes with your number,” he replied with a winning smile.

Kate opened her mouth, but Wren beat her to the punch. “They all do,” she chimed.

“Great!” Tim rubbed his hands together. “Well, I’ll leave the choice up to you, Kate.”

“Take a seat, Tim,” Kate managed. “And Wren will be out with the coffee.”

“Thanks.” He flashed another smile before moving off toward a table.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kate hissed at Wren.

“Trying to help you out,” Wren replied in an undertone, scooping out a cupcake and putting it on a plate, before picking it up and grabbing the coffee. “Because sometimes life’s just too short to dawdle over shit like this.” With that, she sailed out into the store.

By the time Wren returned to the counter, Kate was serving someone else. Emily returned with some more cups and paused to exchange a glance with Wren.

“Wow,” Emily whispered. “She’s looking pissed. What did you do?”

Wren gave Emily a sly grin. “Relax, Toots. The love doctor is in town.”

Emily looked out to where Tim was enjoying his snack, all the while keeping a very appreciative gaze on Kate.

“Him?” she said in a voice that radiated disbelief.

“Yup, but only for now.”

Emily looked at Wren in askance. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. Trust me.”

Tim left an hour later, and Kate glared at Wren who cleaned up his table. As Wren got back to the coffee machine, Kate sauntered over. “Nice try, Wren, but he didn’t get my number,” she taunted.

“That’s okay. I traded numbers with him on your behalf,” Wren said in a flippant tone, walking into the kitchen and leaving Kate blinking in surprise in her wake.

“Hey, boss,” Wren began later when there was a lull. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were having a very cozy little chat with Galahad yesterday before Paul came in,” Wren said in an arch tone. “It looked like the two of you were getting along.”

“Who?” Kate looked puzzled.

Wren rolled her eyes, snapping the suspenders she was wearing over her polka dot T-shirt in irritation. “Will you just
try
to work with me for maybe a minute?”

“Well, give me a clue,” Kate replied.

“Curly hair, tall, jaw line that just begs to be kissed, hazel eyes, kinda shy, the two of you were holding hands,” Wren recited, ticking the items off on her fingers.

Kate stared at her for a moment before comprehension dawned. “Shy? You mean Michael?”


Yes
,” Wren said with relief. “Thank God, we’ve got a name. Emily and I have been watching him for a few weeks now, but you’re the only one he really wants to talk to.”

“Really?” Kate looked surprised and flattered as she kept cleaning the counter.

“Uh-huh,” Wren replied, watching the slight flush creeping up Kate’s neck.
Come on, little fishy
. “The two of you seem to have struck up a nice little friendship.”

“Mmmph,” Kate grunted and kept working.

“And then there was Tim today. What did you think of him?”

“Well, he seems like a nice guy,” Kate allowed.

Wren stared. “Nice? Is that all you’ve got to say?”

“Yup.” Kate kept cleaning. Her back was to Wren, so the other woman didn’t see her lips tightening.

“Well, I would have thought you could say something better than just
nice
.”

Kate turned around, resting one hand on her hip and brushing her hair off her face with the other. “Hell, Wren, what else do you want me to say?” Kate was getting angry now, and this was a rare thing.

“I …” Wren was shocked into silence, also a rare thing.

Kate sighed and leaned against the counter looking weary. “Wren, you know today has been really hard for me, the shop has been busy, and if you don’t mind, I’d rather not end it with a lecture about my love life or—” she held up a warning finger as Wren made as if to speak, “—the lack thereof. Get it?”

Wren closed her mouth with a snap. “Got it,” she managed.

“Good.”

Kate regarded her for a moment, then turned and slung the dishcloth over one shoulder as she started to unload the dishwasher. “Do me a favor,” she said as she collected some stainless steel mixing bowls. “Go out, have a few drinks, have a great time, and get laid.”

“That’s an official directive, to get laid?” Wren said.

“Someone around here has to.” Kate shrugged, stacking the bowls with muted clangs.

The kitchen was quiet for a moment, save for the sounds of dishes and cutlery as Kate unloaded and stacked things away.

“Boss,” Wren ventured after a pause. “You know I only nag you because—”

“You care,” Kate interrupted and gave her a tired smile. “I know.”

“So, we’re cool?” Wren said this in a timid voice, and Kate looked at her in surprise.

“Oh, honey.” She crossed to her and gave her a hug. “You know we are. I guess I’m just a bit fragile from yesterday is all.”

“I know, and I shouldn’t have pushed,” Wren admitted in a small voice.

Kate gave her another squeeze, and then stepped back, her hands on Wren’s shoulders. “Look, I’ll make a deal with you,” Kate said in a careful tone. “If I go out on a date with someone, will it get you off my back?”

“Sure,” Wren said.

“Really?” Kate raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” Wren hedged, “maybe a bit.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Kate agreed. “Now get outta here.”

After another hug, Wren left a few minutes later. Kate kept working, trying to ignore the scrap of paper that Wren had stuck to the refrigerator door. A number with the name “Tim” scrawled above it in big letters.

She finished cleaning and slowly walked toward the refrigerator and removed the scrap of paper. Maybe Paul had a point. They both ought to do something with their lives. She sighed and, after a long moment, reached for the phone. She closed her eyes, deep in thought, then in a decisive movement, punched in the numbers and waited for the call to go through.

“Hi. Is this Tim?” She listened to the happy affirmative. “Um, it’s Kate, from the bakery … I got your number this afternoon …”

~~~

Michael scrubbed at his stubble with one hand as he gazed at his computer screen before leaning back in his chair for a stretch. The combination of a late night, waking up in a strange bed, and the resulting hangover had made for a very unproductive day. Hours later, he found he had accomplished nothing other than a very awkward conversation at three a.m. and three written sentences at best. He sighed and looked at the screen again. Still the same sentence as before:
A laugh that lights up the room, and a smile that can’t help but create another.
The hour was late, but he could still hear plenty of activity outside. People were enjoying evening strolls, and traffic was still moving. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, so why wasn’t he? He scratched his chin again, idly wondering what Kate did when she wasn’t at work.

~~~

Kate wasn’t used to calling guys to arrange a date, but the pleasure in Tim’s voice when she had taken him up on his earlier offer made her feel better. They had arranged a place to meet and he had been waiting for her with a ready smile. It had been a long day at work and so one glass of wine had lead to more before Kate had thrown caution to the wind and ordered a Cosmopolitan.

“Looks like you enjoy a Cosmo,” Tim commented as she downed two in quick succession.

Kate nodded. It wasn’t often she drank, but when she did she generally made a night of it. “If I could get these things in a sippy cup, I’d be a happy girl,” she said carelessly, reaching for the glass as Tim laughed.

Hours later they had made their way home to Kate’s apartment. It had been closer for one thing, and Kate had giggled and leaned against Tim all the way up the stairs. Once inside, she had closed the door and turned to see Tim reaching from her. Kate leaned into his embrace, trying not to mind when he swirled his tongue into her ear and sucked on her earlobe. Perhaps it was something that had worked for him in the past, but not this time. Damn it. She’d been lonely for too long. She needed this. She kept reciting that in her head as she closed her eyes and gave herself up to him, all the while knowing that she was cheating them both. She stared into the darkness of the bedroom then closed her eyes tightly as his lips claimed hers.

The next morning Kate rolled toward the alarm clock as it sounded and encountered a warm body instead of her spare pillow. She opened her eyes to see Tim sound asleep although the alarm clock was shrilling beside his head. Clutching the sheet to her chest, she leaned across him and slapped at the alarm until it stopped, lying back onto the bed and regarding Tim with weariness. There was nothing for it. She had to get ready, and he had to go.

“Hey.” She nudged his shoulder once, and then again. He grunted and tried to roll over, but she pulled at his shoulder. “Hey, Tim, we’ve got to get going.”

“In a minute,” he mumbled, attempting to burrow back into the pillow.

“No,
now
,” she repeated. “C’mon.”

He showed no sign of movement. Kate regarded him for a moment, and then came to a decision. She had a routine and he was going to have to like it or lump it, preferably the latter. She grabbed at the sheet and quilt and yanked them off the bed.

That
woke him up.

“What the fu—” he began when he saw Kate shimmying into a T-shirt that she had dropped on the floor last night. “What are you doing? C’mere.” He patted the mattress in an inviting manner.

Kate looked at him over her shoulder and stood up.

“Sorry, Tim, no time. I’ve got to get to work.”

“So call in sick.” He put his hands behind his head and rolled over onto his back, quite unabashed at his nudity. Kate regarded him with, she realized, only mild regret, then shook her head.

“It’s my business; I’ve got to be there,” she said in what she hoped was a patient tone.

A small “I want” line appeared between Tim’s eyebrows. “But I thought—” he began.

“What you want and what I need are two different things,” Kate said in what she hoped was a gentle tone. “And I’ve got a business to run, so I’m going to get ready, okay?” She patted his foot, and then got up and rounded the bed as she headed toward the bathroom. “There’s plenty of food in the kitchen,” she called over her shoulder. “So help yourself to some breakfast, and then we need to move.”

She quickly stripped off the T-shirt and got into the shower, praying he wouldn’t try to join her. She showered quickly, shivering under the hot spray. The sex last night had been good, like scratching a persistent itch, but waking up with the morning reality felt very different. She wanted him out of her sanctuary, and soon. Hearing movement, she froze and cocked her head. She heard the refrigerator door open and the sounds of foraging. She relaxed a fraction and began to wash her hair. Good. He was going to eat, and then as soon as she was ready, they could leave.

She reappeared a short while later in jeans and one of Paul’s shirts. It was enormous on her, but she had knotted it at the waist to try to cinch it in somewhat. She teamed it with a pair of her oldest jeans—given her extensive collection, that was saying a lot—and her faithful red Chucks. Her hair was still wet and her face was devoid of makeup when she entered the kitchen carrying her bag.

Tim saw her and smiled, although she could see that his heart wasn’t quite in it. Getting rebuffed now after the night before had left him on uncertain ground.

“Wow, you get ready quick,” he commented.

Kate shrugged. “I’ve got a lot of baking ahead,” she replied.

Tim waved a half-eaten apple toward the door. “So, time to hit the road?”

Kate nodded, hoping her relief didn’t show on her face. “Yup, sorry.”

They left the apartment and made their way down the stairs side by side.

“So,” Tim ventured after a brief pause, “how about we catch up for lunch?”

“I can’t,” Kate replied with a regretful smile. “Business owner, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He looked disappointed. “That’s right.” He thought for a moment, “Well, how about breakfast on Saturday?”

“Working again. It’s a six-day-a-week operation, so I don’t have much of a life,” she replied, shrugging her bag’s strap into a more comfortable position on her shoulder, hoping he would get the message. What the hell had she been thinking? This awkwardness wasn’t her style at all.

“Right.” Tim looked at his feet and then back at her. Kate felt guilty. Was she being too harsh? Tim was a nice-looking guy, classic all-American good looks, and they’d had a fun evening together. Lots of women would go for a guy like him, so why wasn’t she? “So maybe I’ll call you sometime …” His voice trailed off and they both looked at each other, feeling uncomfortable.

“Tim,” Kate sighed, looking down at her feet for a moment, trying to find the words. “I just don’t know if this is a good time for me. Running my own business takes a lot of—”

“Time,” Tim interrupted with a sigh. “I know.” He gave her a half-smile. “Still, if you want to catch up again sometime, you’ve got my number.”

On impulse, Kate stood on tiptoe and gave him a gentle kiss. “Goodbye, Tim,” she said, and this time she meant it. They both knew she wouldn’t call. They said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Kate watched Tim head off in the opposite direction, and then went on her way, wondering why she felt so relieved and lonely all at once.

~~~

Wren walked to work, her eyes darting back and forth over the faces in the crowd as she sought her daily inspiration. She had three more blocks to think of something, and so far the Chalkboard gods hadn’t given her a damn thing. She arrived at the corner of Broadway and East Houston, and unhooked her iPod ear buds. Her playlist wasn’t inspiring her this morning either, so maybe she’d eavesdrop for a change. She still had nothing as she stood waiting for Kate to arrive.

“Morning, boss.”

“Wren, don’t call me boss,” Kate replied with a smile as she stepped up to unlock the doors.

Wren relaxed. All was forgiven. “Sorry, boss.” She stepped into the store and did a double take as she took a good look at Kate. “What the hell happened? Did you oversleep or …” She broke off, her eyes widening. “Or
didn’t you get much sleep at all?”

Kate opened the door and ushered Wren inside, giving her a wry smile. “I woke up on time, but no, I didn’t get much sleep. Thanks so much for asking.”

Wren was agog. “What did you do?”
She looks like she … 

“I took my own advice from yesterday and called that guy.”

“I knew it!” Wren gave a little skip. “So how was it?”

“It was,” Kate paused, “okay.” She pulled a face. “Pretty lame description, huh?”

Wren turned to face her. “Really? He looked like a nice guy.”

“Oh and he is. Nothing wrong with him at all.” Kate dropped her bag and flicked on the coffee machine, pulling out a couple of cups. “Before you can ask, yes, we had sex, and it was good sex, but it just felt like we were … like I was … I don’t know, going through the motions or something.”

While the machine was warming up, the two women put their bags away and kept chattering as they went about their morning routine.

“Tell Dr. Wren everything,” Wren said, getting the milk out of the fridge and handing it to Kate, who took it with a nod of thanks.

“Well, you know, I guess I just would’ve liked a deeper connection.”

Wren gave Kate a significant look. “Surely the only way he could get deeper would be with surgery.”

Kate coughed to hide her laugh. “Well, yeah, but all I’m saying is that if it’s just going to be sex for the sake of it, then I can take care of things for myself in that department.”

“True,” Wren acknowledged, “but you have to admit that having someone else there with you makes for a great way to pass the time.”

“There is that,” Kate agreed.

“Did he spend the night?” Wren went on.

“Yeah,” Kate sighed and poured the frothy milk into the cups. “Which is why I look like
this
.” She gestured to her outfit.

“Ah.” Wren’s face brightened in understanding. “You grunged yourself down so that he wouldn’t get any saucy ideas about seeing you again.”

“Yup. Think it’s too obvious?”

Wren gave her a pitying look. “Honey, he’s a
guy
. There’s no such thing as too obvious. He’ll be fine.”

They sipped their coffee in silence for a moment, giving the freshly ground brew all the loving attention it deserved.

“Tell you what,” Wren continued. “Why don’t you go fix yourself up and I’ll get things started.”

“You’re a champ,” Kate said gratefully.

“Don’t applaud; throw money,” Wren teased, and slapped Kate’s rump to shoo her away. “Now you go get yourself looking nice. I’ve got a bakery to open, and Emily will be here soon.”

“Yes’m.”

Kate went out into the kitchen and then opened one of the cupboards, pulling out one of the spare T-shirts she kept in there for emergencies. She looked at the front and grinned; it seemed appropriate. She wriggled into it, and then looked in her bag and cursed when she realized she didn’t have her brush.

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