How to Bake the Perfect Wedding Cake

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How to Bake the Perfect Wedding Cake Page 11

by Gina Henning


  I head to the living room and notice Jack is back with his shoes. His Sunday shoes routine. I pop my neck from side to side. He brings out all seven pairs of his shoes on Sunday night and shines them in the living room. Granted he hasn’t made a stain yet on my couch, table, or rug, but I can almost see it happening. I made a subtle hint before about how much more comfortable he would be doing it in the garage standing by the workbench and he laughed it off.

  “Hey, shining your shoes?”

  “Yes, I can shine yours too. Bring them out.”

  I laugh. “Mine are good.”

  “Lauren, don’t be shy. I can make those heels shinier than when you first bought them.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

  “I don’t want to blind people.” I give his shoulder a little shove.

  He grabs my hand. “I think it’s too late for that.” Jack’s arms are around my waist and I’m in his lap with one swoop. And the shoe polish is on my gray sofa.

  “There, see, I knew it.” I stand back up and rush to the kitchen for a cloth.

  “You knew what? That I would whisk you off your feet? Because that’s been happening since day one, so if it took you until today to figure out…well, Lauren, you’ve got some catching up to do.” Jack lets out a chortle of a laugh.

  “I have some sponging to catch up on. Look at this stain. The black is never going to come out of my couch. I wish you w—”

  Jack is digging in his shoe box and pulls out some cream and a different brush. “Ahem.” He picks up my hand and moves it away from the stain and within seconds the couch looks normal.

  I nod my head. Okay, he cleaned the stain great. But maybe a different spot for his shoes is in order.

  Jack raises an eyebrow at me like he is waiting for me to respond.

  I cock my head and bat my eyelashes at him.

  “I’m waiting.”

  “For what?”

  “Lauren, don’t make me—”

  “What Jack? Don’t make you what?”

  His eyes spark and flicker like I’ve lit a flame inside him. I begin slowly backing up. Slowly towards the bedroom. “Come here.”

  “I don’t think so.” I shake my head and take more steps backward.

  “Lauren, if you want to run that’s fine but you know I’ll catch you.”

  “Then catch me, Jack.” I scream as I rush into the back of the house. And Jack’s arms are wrapped around me and his mouth is on my neck.

  “I’m never going to let you go.” He breathes into my neck and trails kisses down my collar.

  My swoon factor is off the charts. Jack is pulling me under and I’m going to go. He’s got my oxygen and I know he won’t release my air. He’s always covering me. Making sure I’m safe. And I am with Jack. I’m more than safe. I’m more than satisfied. I’ve exceeded all needs. Jack has brought it and I don’t want him to leave it. This is like Thor’s hammer. He is the only one who can hold up our relationship. His strength is unsurpassed. And somehow I wonder about my own. Am I holding my own in this relationship?

  Chapter Ten

  It’s a new workweek and I’m testing out the shadowing technique. Even though this was Trent’s idea, or what I was told was his idea, I’m still going to give it a try. I’m sitting with Marcus first. So far his calls have been fairly standard.

  “All right, that sounds great. Make sure and give me a call when you get that return.” Marcus clicks the end button and glances at me.

  “The entire call was great, except for the last part. You don’t want to ask the client to call you. Set an appointment for you to call them. This works in two ways. One, as a reminder for both of you and two, you have a calendared sales meeting in place. This is key.”

  “Cool, I’ll do that going forward.” I stand up and head back to my office. I’ve still got to pass out several more accounts from the queue to my team. I’m thinking about assigning each person a gold mining hour. I scan the queue and find some real possible accounts and tag each of my team with them. Let’s do this.

  ***

  It’s twenty past five. I can add an extra thirty minutes to my hunt in the morning. I’m exhausted now. I’m ready to fall into Jack’s arms.

  My trip home is quick and easy. Relaxation, here I come. I pass through the vacant living room and into my bedroom. Jack is lying on the bed and he is completely naked. In his lap is a bowl, which I can only imagine contains a tasty treat.

  “Wow,” falls from my lips. Jack had promised a frosting tasting event earlier but after the whole scene with Trent it didn’t happen. Our minds had pushed past the idea of food play and zipped through foreplay on the stairs of my townhouse and landed straight in bed.

  “I’m really hungry, so please disrobe quickly,” Jack says with a growl. His voice is full of hunger and I want to give into it.

  “Is this about the empty refrigerator?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “We’ll tend to the grocery shopping afterwards. Clothes.” He nods at me.

  “I guess if you insist.” I take off my skirt and slide off my blouse.

  Jack’s eyes are flickering at me like he wants to devour me. I lie down on the bed next to him and he takes off the remaining items on my body and begins to paint with a spatula. It’s almost like putting on a mud masque but this is tasty and Jack is going to be the one licking it off me.

  I laugh. “Jack, you are not going to be able to eat all of that. You’ll get sick.”

  “Not a chance.” Jack begins to taste the frosting and work his mouth over my body and I can’t help but be turned on and want a sample for myself. Jack must sense this as he offers his finger to me to lick. And I do. It’s delicious fluffy strawberry goodness.

  “And I need to try out the rest of this frosting before it gets too hard.” He lifts up another bowl.

  I giggle. “Oh really?”

  “Really.” Jack paints me with more frosting and stands back as if he is admiring his artwork. His eyes are full of passion and love and he nods at me. Before taking my mouth and kissing me. We’re both naked and exposed and I should feel vulnerable under these bright lights and the idea of being frosted and devoured but I couldn’t be more at home under the icy blues that reflect Jack’s warm, warm heart.

  He sends me into moments that I could never have imagined and never dreamed. And yet, here I am in this room of mine that will no longer be mine in a few months. We’ll be in our home in a different bed and a different room. Will our love remain this way forever? Or is this moment based on small moments that may or may not lead to our happily ever after? I can’t help but worry if we are only a page of happiness versus a lifetime of a successful marriage. I want it all with Jack.

  Jack’s slicks on more frosting and suddenly there’s only one thought passing through my mind. Pleasure.

  ***

  I seriously should be in a sweet-induced hangover this morning but the only thing that is floating around in my body is how sweet I am over Jack and how much I want to test out frostings again. We had to have eaten at least three different batches. And by eaten I mean licked off of each other for hours. My tongue should be sore and tired but I couldn’t feel more revitalized and ready to take on the day and Trent—if that needs to happen as well.

  Our night consisted of an overindulgence of frosting and each other. We just enveloped each other in deep passionate kisses that went beyond subtle tastes of frosting. I’ve never felt so erotic in my life. Jack takes me to places that I’ve never contemplated and he makes it all seem so natural, safe, and ever so satisfying.

  I slide into my desk chair with my coffee carafe in hand. Jack, ever the early riser, made me a to-go cup and I couldn’t be happier. My anxiety seems to have faded and coffee actually tastes good today. My team meeting is in a few hours and I’m going to handle it like a real boss. Ha! I pull up my schedule and I have a red alert flag on one of my calls. Hmm…I haven’t had a red alert in months. I click on the customer’s name.

  Sheralyn Crowley, whoa…talk about nu
mbers. She’s got over seven of them. This is perfect. This is the type of account I need right now. I quickly scroll through all her various funds before hitting call on my computer. With my headset firmly in place, I’m ready to move this person from the potential client list to my current client list.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Ms. Crowley?”

  “Yes, that’s right, who’s calling?”

  “My name is Lauren Hauser, and I see you put in a query about some account management at Calstone Corp?”

  “Oh, Lauren, how nice it is to hear…from you.”

  “The feeling’s mutual. Speaking of, I see you have a few mutual funds that haven’t really been bringing in the types of returns that I think are possible.”

  Ms. Crowley laughs. “Oh I couldn’t agree more. But listen, I really would like to meet in person to discuss matters and such. I don’t like discussing things over the phone.”

  “Okay, how about we meet for lunch?”

  “Yes, that would work much better for me. How about tomorrow at noon?”

  I don’t even check my calendar. Whatever is on it can be cleared for this woman. “That’s perfect. I see from your address you are near downtown. Are you familiar with Hollow Moon?”

  “Oh, I am indeed. I’ll see you there at noon tomorrow.”

  I go ahead and give myself a really nice high five with the click of the phone. This is so awesome. If I’m able to move all her money over to Calstone Corp…I will be sailing on Javier’s stellar lists for months. This client could carry my team, even if they were under on their own numbers. Little beads of sweat form along my hairline. I blow air up over my face. I need to calm down. It hasn’t happened yet and I still need to get through the rest of the day and meet with my team.

  I look around me and my eyes land on the Human Resources form. I put it away. I can’t report something like that now. I don’t want there to be any distractions from the moment when I land this huge deal.

  I take a deep relaxing breath and scan through the rest of my queue and respond to some other queries from some of my clients. Even if I don’t land this client, I’ve got to make some huge strides numbers wise today. I make a few more phone calls and check my clock. It’s a quarter after noon. My meeting is at 1:00 p.m. I’ve barely enough time to go anywhere for lunch; it’s going to have to be the deli across the street. I grab my purse and rush out to the hallway.

  I see Trent walking down the aisle towards me and in a millisecond of a moment he does an about-face and charges off in the opposite direction. Fine by me. At least I don’t have to say anything to him. I don’t need to be making waves at this point, not when things could seriously being turning around for me in a really great way.

  I glide down the elevator and a rumble in my tummy makes me pat it and think about Jack and something he mentioned last night. He asked how I was feeling and if I had been sick at any other point. I told him no and that it was nothing. But that was a lie. I’ve been a bucket of nerves and if I’m not throwing up—in or out of people’s mouths—I’ve been nauseated. I have cut myself off from calling my doctor on no less than five occasions. I’m embarrassed to reach out and tell her that I’m having anxiety issues again. I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed and that seeking out help is a good thing. But, it’s been so long since I’ve had to deal with this and I don’t want to go back to being on medicine. Not if I can help it. I just need to get through planning this wedding and bringing my team up and avoiding Trent…argh…too many things.

  The hot air from the asphalt hits my nose hard. It stinks. I’ve never considered Baltimore to be a stinky city but sheesh today it’s really bad. And it’s amplified by the whisking of the cars around me. I’m woozy. The deli is only twenty feet in front of me. As soon as I make it across the street and inside air conditioning again, I’ll be fine. I didn’t eat anything for breakfast. I’m probably going to pass out from hunger. The light finally switches, giving the pedestrians an all-clear signal. I hustle as best as I can across the black stinky street. The door to the deli is like a life raft and I grip on to it hard and swing it open. The cool air flows over me like an army of gladiator men are fanning me. And yes, it’s gladiator men because the stickiness of sweaty bodies pressing up against me is what’s happening underneath my skirt with my thighs. Did I not clean off all of the frosting from last night? I laugh and find my place in the line.

  There are so many items to choose from…I don’t know how I will ever decide. Which means only one thing. The triple-decker sub. Ha! I’m such a pig. I can’t help it. I’m famished and I’ll eat it at my desk in privacy. I might even make grunting noises as I devour it. Okay, I probably won’t go that far. But I’m ready to chow down.

  I list off every single option, much to the amazement of the sandwich artist, and then for good measure I ask for lots of spicy mustard. My mouth is watering as I anticipate the first bite touching down in my mouth. I pay and hustle back through the desert heat of the greasy streets and immediately it’s like heaven back inside the cool air of my building. I make it to my desk in record time and pull the blinds on the windows of my office. This is going to be some scheduled Lauren time.

  The sandwich wrapping can’t come off fast enough and I scoop up the humungous sandwich to take an enormous bite. The type of bite that definitely would not pass for ladylike by anyone’s standards. The flavors should be delicious and amazing. I watched the guy prepare this sandwich. It contains bright and shiny vegetables and nothing looked rotten, yet that’s what it tastes like. Nasty rotten food. I drop the sandwich on the crinkled-up paper in disappointment. I was so hungry and now I’m grossed out. I roll my eyes and sigh. Great. Oh well…I definitely overindulged in calories last night. I suppose it isn’t a big deal if I go extra light on the cals today.

  My team’s numbers and stats have been printed out and I’ve highlighted some major areas that need to be addressed and some areas to encourage and say positive things about. The meeting reminder flashes in my calendar on my computer. Yes, Bill…I’ve got it. I lock my computer and make my way with my stacks of reports to the conference room. Little flurries of excitement and nervousness run though my body. You can do this.

  The conference room is empty except for Marcus. I nod at him.

  “Hey, good to see you’re here early.” I give my most professional grin. I can’t deny I don’t feel awkward and uncomfortable given our first meeting with Trent present.

  “Yeah, I hope you don’t mind but I wanted to have a quick word with you.”

  I raise an eyebrow and sit down.

  “You know that first day with Trent… Does he always act like that?”

  I nod my head. I’m uncomfortable thinking about everything that’s happened since that day. “Yeah, I’ve tried to tell him on many occasions how I feel about his interjections and things of that nature.” I eye the ground.

  “Obviously he’s taken it to heart.” He laughs and I can’t help but laugh as well. Because really it’s so ridiculous. I can’t stop myself from laughing and it’s nice to know that someone else witnessed Trent’s behavior and wasn’t okay with it.

  “No, he hasn’t.” I shake my head.

  “Have you tried reporting him to Javier?”

  I sit in silence for a minute and Bethany enters the room. “Oh, I hope I’m not late. The meeting was at one, right?” Her eyebrows furrow.

  “Welcome, you’re right on time.” I motion for her to take a seat.

  The rest of my team hustles in and searches the room for the best spot.

  Once everyone is seated I clear my throat. “All right, so this is our first team meeting for Q3. Our new team members, Bethany and Marcus, are settling in well. So let’s share some numbers. Here are the highlights…” I tap on my mouse and pull up the numbers that I’ve highlighted on the big screen so that everyone can see. I’ve printed out the reports as a paper guide for myself but I’ve made a slide show of numbers and goals for everyone to check out on the overhead.


  After I’ve gone through all the slides I flash the last one. Goals.

  “Tell me your goals for this week. But not here. I want each of you to send me an email before the end of the day of what your goals are for this week and how you are going to hit them.”

  Everyone nods and I stand up. “All right then, great meeting.” We exit the room and I deliberately avoid chatting any further with Marcus. I can’t answer his question because I don’t know the answer. Other than I didn’t think to tell Javier about things when they first began; I thought I could handle it myself. Now things have gone on too long and I could come off badly. Some people might not view me as innocent and I can’t have any issues at work right now. I’ve just got to stay the course and get to my final destination, which is success.

  I make it to my office with another moment of success—no sign of Trent. I turn on my computer and see a barrage of emails from my mom. Oh lawd. I was supposed to send her some information about our wedding.

  Instead of responding to any of her emails. I send her a new one.

  Mom, as I mentioned Jack and I have decided to have our wedding in Texas so not everyone will have to travel. And we would really love to have it at Tibor’s Pecan Farm. I still haven’t heard back from them. Do you think you might be able to speak with them about it? Love, Lauren

  I click send. There, I’ve tasked my mom with something that will take up quite a bit of time. Talking to Tibor’s Pecan Farm and then figuring out all of the logistics of having a wedding there and what that will mean for everyone.

  My desk phone rattles from side to side.

  “Lauren Hauser, how may I help you?”

  “Honey, did you not read my emails?”

  “I’m sorry, Mom, I haven’t had a chance.”

  “Okay, honey, that’s fine but one of the messages was about your grandmother.”

  My heart hits the floor. I’ve always imagined this day. But I never wanted to ever experience it or even have the reality of it come into fruition. “What happened?” I let escape from my mouth.

  “Grandmother is okay now, but she fell and broke her hip.”

 

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