Take the Cake

by Sandra Wright

“Tell me about it,” Wren agreed.

  Some more customers came in, and Emily turned toward them with a smile. “I’ll look after these guys. How about you take a break?”

  “Okay, thanks.” Wren stepped away from the coffee machine and, instead of grabbing one of her beloved glossy magazines that she kept a small stack of in one of the cupboards, she stood in thought for a moment. She fingered the waistband of her jeans, flicking the small locket that hung there so that it swung back and forth while she thought and then, decision made, she went into the kitchen.

  Kate was bent over a tray of cupcakes, piping on thick swirls of honey buttercream frosting. She looked up as Wren appeared and flashed a quick smile before getting back to her task.

  “Hey, boss, I’ve been thinking,” Wren began.

  “Mm-hmm?” Kate hummed as she kept frosting.

  “About earlier when we were talking about your date.” Kate nodded but said nothing, so Wren continued, “You know when I asked you if Michael had stayed the night and you said no?” She paused for a moment, flicking the locket again. “I was kinda wondering …” Her voice trailed off as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

  Kate looked up at this and finished the cupcake she was working on with a flourish, then straightened up and put the frosting bag on the counter. “Spit it out,” she said. “What do you want to know?”

  “Well,” Wren paused for a moment, and then rushed on, “isn’t that kinda hypocritical?”

  “Huh?”

  “You know, after Tim,” Wren went on. “I mean, he was a date and you slept with him, so what’s different about Michael?”

  Kate sighed and glanced down at the floor for a moment, toeing her Chucks against the floor tiles as she thought, and then leaned against the counter and folded her arms over her chest in a protective gesture. “I get what you mean, and yeah, you’re right,” she said at last, “but there was a difference. Tim was … well …” she floundered. “You know the history with Thomas, right?” At Wren’s nod, she went on, “With Tim, I wanted, needed, to feel that I still had what it takes to feel attractive to a man.”

  “But you are,” Wren said.

  Kate sighed, hugging her arms tighter to her chest. “Thanks, Wren. I guess I just wanted to know I could go out with someone that knew what they wanted, knew what they were without taking me along for their journey of discovery,” she finished in a quiet voice.

  “Is that what it was like with Thomas?”

  “Huh?” Kate looked up with eyes that were still gazing into the past. “A bit, I guess. We loved each other, but I just didn’t have the right … uh … accessories.” Her mouth pulled into a wry smile. “He tells me now that he’d always had his suspicions, and he just happened to be with me when he made his decision.”

  “Everyone loves you, Kate. You know that, right?” Unable to help herself, Wren stepped forward and rubbed her hands on Kate’s forearm. “You’re a strong, sexy woman.”

  “Thanks, babe, but there are times when I need to get that feedback from the opposite sex, you know?”

  “Ah,” Wren replied as realization dawned, “you mean the kind of feedback that’s—”

  “Horizontal,” Kate supplied. “Yes.”

  “Right. So Tim was a booty call for your self-esteem, and Michael’s for your heart?”

  “Maybe,” Kate allowed. “I think so.”

  Wren gave her a hug. “Good luck then, boss.”

  “Wren, don’t call me boss,” Kate replied automatically. She stood there for a moment, and then her arms crept up around Wren’s shoulders as she returned the hug.

  ~~~

  “Dammit,” Wren groused as she stacked the magazines onto the bookshelf again. “Hey, boss,” she called. “When did Bear say he was going to put up those magazine racks?”

  “Next weekend,” Kate answered, slicing a bagel in hand and putting it onto a plate for a waiting customer, which she handed over with a smile.

  “What’s happening?” Emily returned with some cups and plates that she began to stack into the dishwasher.

  “Paul’s going to do some chores here next weekend when we have our first two-day weekend. Speaking of which …” Kate looked up at Wren, who held up a handful of flyers.

  “They’re on every table,” Wren confirmed in response to Kate’s silent question.

  “That’s my girl,” Kate said with a grateful smile.

  “I know,” Wren sighed. “I’m just that good.”

  “The guy that gets you will be a lucky man,” Emily said, giving Wren a sly wink, which the smaller woman endeavored to ignore. Wren muttered about tidying the front of the store and made her escape.

  “Speaking of lucky men,” Emily murmured, nodding her head toward the door when Kate looked at her in confusion. Emily watched as Kate looked over to the store front, and her face lit up at the tall man who entered, an answering smile on his lips.

  Kate dropped the dishcloth she’d been holding and walked out from behind the coffee machine, pausing with her hand on the end of the counter, feeling oddly shy as Michael started toward her.

  “Hey,” Kate said with a smile as Michael approached. “I wasn’t sure if I’d be seeing you.”

  “I wasn’t sure either, but my feet just kind of steered me here.” Michael grinned.

  For a moment the two of them hesitated with just the right amount of awkwardness, and then closed the gap between them. Kate smiled as Michael slid his hand around her waist to pull her toward him as he dipped his head to give her a quick kiss. He was pulling away when Kate caught his wrist with her hand.

  “Is that all I get?” she said, feeling bold. She saw Michael’s teeth flash as he grinned before lowering his mouth to hers again.

  He’d smiled when he had seen the chalkboard quote outside. Kate had told him that the board was Wren’s domain, and then had told him about the friendly rivalry the two of them had between the quotes and the cupcakes. He was already curious to see what Kate had come up with in response.

  “How’s your day going so far?” Kate asked.

  “Good, getting better all the time,” he replied. “But I shouldn’t be keeping you from your work.” He felt an irrational surge of pride as her face fell. She wanted him to stay. He wanted to stay too, but he looked at the oversized clock hanging on the wall behind the counter. “It’s nearly lunchtime, so I’m guessing you guys will be getting pretty busy.”

  “Probably,” Kate agreed.

  “More than likely,” Wren quipped as she strolled past with a coffee order. “But if you two want to play sucky face some more, then that’s fine too.” She laughed at the indignant blush on Kate’s face.

  Michael reached up to cup the nape of her neck with one hand as he rubbed his thumb across her pink cheeks. “What are you blushing about?” he whispered.

  “That she was right,” Kate replied, smiling as he gave a low chuckle, and then brushed his lips against hers.

  “Listen, I’ll leave you to it for a while,” Michael said, breaking away at last. “I’ve got some errands to run, but I’ll see you here this afternoon.”

  “Really?” Kate smiled, delighted that he wanted to spend more time with her.

  “I’d like to walk my girl home if that’s okay,” Michael replied, and then stopped, his eyes widening a little as he realized what he’d said.

  They stared at each other for a moment.

  “Your girl, huh?” Kate said at last.

  “Something like that,” Michael agreed. “Assuming that you agree, of course. If it helps your decision any, you’ve always been my girl in my head.”

  “Really,” Kate commented.

  “Yup,” Michael said, venturing a slight grin.

  “Sounds like you’ve put a bit of thought into this situation, Michael.”

  “It does, doesn’t it,” he agreed.

  “Seems a shame to waste all that mental effort. Guess I’d better go along with it and see how we go.”

  “
You’re a woman with a discerning mind,” Michael said giving her another kiss. “Yet another reason I’m crazy for you.”

  “Another reason, huh? So how many are you up to?”

  Michael scrunched his forehead in apparent concentration. “Last count I think it was up to seven.”

  “Seven?” Kate gave his arm a light punch. “Only seven?”

  Michael laughed, dodging away. “Well, if you work a bit harder, then you could—” He broke off as he saw the display cabinet. He read the cupcake sign and turned to her with a look of mock lust. “I think I’m up to number eight now.”

  “Yeah, right.” Kate reached for the dishcloth she’d left on the counter and started twirling it in preparation to snap it at him. “You can tell your story walkin’.”

  “I’m going,” Michael said, side-stepping Kate to lean in to give her another kiss. “But I’ll see you later this afternoon.” With that, he waved to the other two women and left the store.

  Kate turned back to the counter with a snort of amusement, slinging the dishcloth over one shoulder. She stopped short when she saw Wren and Emily regarding her with twin expressions of interest. “What?”

  “Nothing. Did we say anything?” Wren said.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Emily replied, and then got back to work on her bagels.

  “Right, just as it should be,” Kate retorted, feeling her cheeks warming up again as she walked toward the kitchen.

  “Just one little thing, though,” Wren commented, popping her head around the door.

  Kate looked up from washing her hands. “Go on,” she said warily.

  “So you’re more at ease with him than I’ve seen you with any other guy,” Wren started, pausing as Kate shook the excess water off her hands and reached for a hand towel. Kate didn’t refute what she had said, so Wren continued, “So if you guys are like that and you haven’t even slept together yet then …”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I don’t know, really. One minute you guys look like the cutest couple on the planet, the next you’re treating him like a friend.”

  “Huh?” Kate was confused.

  “Hey.” Wren held her hands up. “I’m just sayin’ those are some confusing signals you’re putting out there.”

  “Is that what I’m doing?” Kate began to wrap a strand of hair around her finger, pulling it as she thought.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Wren said. “But it’s safe to say that Sir Galahad is pretty taken with you. How do you feel about it all?”

  “Good,” Kate conceded. “Really good.” She thought about it some more and elaborated. “Scared, terrified.” She gave Wren an uncertain smile. “You know what that’s like, right?”

  “I could give you a master class on the subject,” Wren scoffed, and then gave her a stern look. “The trick is deciding what you’re going to do about it.”

  ~~~

  Michael let himself into his apartment and broke into a light jog toward the kitchen counter as his phone started to ring. He grabbed the phone and tossed his keys onto the counter, rolling his eyes as they skidded across the granite top and fell onto the floor with a metallic clatter.

  “Forrester,” he said.

  “It’s Alistair,” the voice said. Michael walked around the counter and bent over to pick up his keys, spinning the key ring on his forefinger as Alistair spoke. “Got any news for me today?”

  “Hard to say,” he hedged. “What is it that you’re wanting to know?”

  “Have you written more?” Alistair shifted a little on his seat, anxious for the answer.

  “Surprisingly, yes,” Michael replied, a smile forming as he thought back to the visit he’d just had with Kate—and their conversation.

  Alistair felt his shoulders relax as he released a level of tension he hadn’t be aware he’d been carrying over the weekend. He had to report on the progress of the authors within his portfolio this morning, and he had paced the corridors of the office, biding his time until it seemed a respectable hour to call the shining star on his list. “Anything more you can send through to me?” he asked, and when Michael paused, hastened in to fill the silence. “When you’re ready, of course.”

  “Of course,” Michael repeated, amusement clear in his tone. “Not that you’re wanting to rush me or anything.”

  Alistair gave an internal sigh of relief. Michael was relaxed enough to make a slight joke, so things were still going well. Granted the man wasn’t one of his more high maintenance writers, but he had a talent that made the publishing market hungry, and the appetite for Michael Forrester was growing.

  “Sorry, but you know how it is,” he admitted.

  “Yeah, Alistair, I think I do. I’ve done another few thousand words since the last time we spoke, but can you give me another couple of days? There’s a bit I want to finish before you have a look.”

  “Sure,” Alistair agreed. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

  Michael hung up and set the handset back in its cradle before strolling over to his desk and switching on the laptop. He’d work for a couple of hours, and then go see Kate. As it powered up, he headed toward the bathroom for a shower, making a deal with himself as he began to peel off his sweaty clothes. He’d clean up and then do some work.

  Hours later he gave his laptop a light shove as he got up and pushed his chair out from the desk. He’d made enough of a start for today, and it was looking good. Getting up, he walked the length of the room, stopping to look out one of the tall windows, watching the people and traffic below. He glanced at his watch. It was already early afternoon, although he’d known that from the sunlight streaming through the windows.

  Shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, he stood and stared down at the hardwood floor, lost in thought. His writing was going well, and if he was going to be honest, it was one of the more pleasurable writing experiences he’d had of late. He ran his hand through his hair, and then with a grimace, headed toward the phone to make a long overdue call.

  He’d left it until the last minute as usual, but luck was on his side. A short cab ride later, Michael took a seat in the salon and waited, picking up an outdated magazine and discarding it almost straight away when he saw a copy of The New York Chronicle: David’s newspaper, at least for the time being anyway. He picked it up and rifled through the pages until he found the music and review section. Scanning the pages, he stopped when he saw the familiar by-line and began to read, smiling here and there at David’s witty turn of phrase.

  He envied his friend’s light touch with words, the way his deadlines came and went on a daily basis, the way David could write something and have it go to print that day without spending slavish hours over it all. His name was called, and he looked up and gave a nod, then stood and set the newspaper aside.

  ~~~

  “Hey, boss,” Wren said. “Tall and handsome heading your way.”

  Kate looked up with a smile, and her mouth dropped in an “oh” of surprise. “Wow,” she said at last, “you look different.”

  Michael’s striking auburn hair was nearly all gone. The scruffy curls he had run his hands through impatiently of late had been cut short. It may have been carefully styled when he left the barber, but the combination of wind and his own nervous habit had ruffled it up considerably. It stuck up in spikes and clumps that looked chaotic and endearing all at once.

  “Oh, yeah.” He gave a self-conscious laugh. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a haircut and I was getting scruffy, so I thought I’d better get myself looking decent.”

  “Fuck,” Wren muttered. “If that was him looking scruffy, how good does he look when he makes an effort?”

  “I hear ya, sister,” Emily said in a fervent undertone.

  “I’m back ahead of schedule, but I’ve managed to leave my phone at home, so I wanted to drop by and see if I could walk you home tonight.”

  “I think I’d like that,” Kate replied, folding her arms on the counter and leaning over toward him. “In fa
ct, I know I would.” She watched him smile, and wondered again how Wren thought she was giving out mixed signals.

  “That’s good to know. So it’s a date then.” He grinned.

  “Sounds like. I’ll see you at closing time.” She smiled.

  He turned to go, and then hesitated and turned back. His gaze dropped to her lips, and then he looked at her with a shy smile. “One for the road?”

  Kate gave him a lazy grin. “C’mere,” she invited. Michael walked up to the counter and, bracing his hands on it, lifted himself up so that he could lean over and kiss her. When they parted seconds later, Kate could already feel the warmth beginning low in her belly. Michael gave her a heart-stopping smile and left the store. Kate watched him go, thinking that it was going to be a long afternoon.

  Chapter 13

  Argon and Shiraz

  “I think she’s seen the light,” Wren commented to Emily.

  “How so?” Emily was stacking plates on one of the shelves behind the counter. It was approaching closing time, and they were going through the usual late afternoon ritual.

  “You saw her at lunchtime with Michael?”

  “Yeah, what of it?”

  “I called her out on her behavior,” Wren replied. “All that flirtation-and-retreat thing she’s got going on.” She snapped the lid closed on a container and put it back into the refrigerator.

  “Which would be different how, exactly, from what you do yourself?” Emily said, shooting a look at Wren who looked up in surprise.

  “Me? What are you talking about?”

  “I see you, Wren. You’re the original femme fatale when you think you’ve got the upper hand, but Mr. Wonderful has put you on the defensive and you’ve got no idea what the hell you’re going to do about it.” Emily slid the last plate onto the pile and turned to face the smaller woman, leaning against the counter with one hand on her hip.

  Wren stared back at Emily, momentarily speechless, which told Emily that she had hit her mark.

  “You sound pretty sure of yourself,” Wren managed at last.

  “Hey, you’re not the only one keeping an eye on what’s going on.” Emily shrugged. “I just can’t help but notice that you’re happy to call Kate out on her behavior, but I’m the one that you’ve confided in about your date.”