“Terrifying?” Wren suggested.
Emily shook her head. “I’d go with ‘liberating.’”
“Mmph,” Wren snorted with a dubious expression as she rubbed chalk dust off her hand.
“It’s only terrifying if you let it be,” Emily replied. “Seriously, what’s the worst that can happen?” She shrugged again and returned to her work.
Wren said nothing.
Kate carried her cup into the kitchen and switched on the industrial oven to pre-heat. She set her cup down and looked at her tiny kitchen space. Everything was as it should be. The stainless steel counters gleamed, and the large clear plastic tubs of flour and sugar were tightly sealed and stacked. As always, she felt a rush of pleasure at her workspace. She wondered what Wren was going to come up with today, and walked out of the kitchen to see her friend staring at the fox collection on the wall. Rolling the stub of chalk in her fingers, she seemed lost in thought.
Kate watched her for a moment, and then picked up one of the other coffees and carried it over.
“Here you go.” She offered the cup.
“Hmm?” Wren snapped out of her reverie and accepted the coffee with a slight smile. “Thanks, boss, I was miles away.”
“So I see,” Kate said as she strolled back to the counter to pick up her coffee. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Wren replied and then shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Talk about it?”
“Not first thing in the morning.” Wren shook her head. “Maybe later. I’ve got to do my quote.”
“Okay, but I’m here and ready to listen any time you want to spill.” Kate’s gaze flickered to Emily who was hard at work making a large tub of salad. “You know, the Oracle might have had a point.”
“I know,” Wren sighed. “But I’m scared. You?”
“Sometimes,” Kate admitted. “Paul had a similar conversation with me a few days back.”
“Bear’s in love?” Wren’s eyebrows went up at this revelation as Kate nodded.
“Not yet, but I think he’d like to be if he could find the right woman.”
“Are you saying he’s a lonely heart? Not possible,” Wren scoffed. “Bear loves the planet.”
“It’s one thing to be the big lovable guy, but it’s another to put your heart on the line,” Kate cautioned. “I think that’s what he was trying to get across to me.”
“Noted.” Wren nodded. She took a long sip of her coffee, and the two women stood in a moment of companionable silence. “Of course, in the meantime, there’s always shopping.”
Kate smiled over the rim of her coffee cup. “That’s your cure-all?”
“Of course.” Wren looked shocked that Kate could think otherwise. “I always feel better after I’ve gone out looking at beautiful things. In fact, I—” She broke off and stared at Kate as a smile began to tug at her lips. She bent over the chalkboard and began to write, finishing the quote with a flourish and a few artful stars and hearts. Kate strolled over to see what Wren had written and laughed. Another day had begun.
~~~
Michael’s day started earlier than usual after a less than satisfying sleep. He hadn’t slept well the night before, which he noted was happening with increasing regularity whenever he and Kate didn’t spend the night together. He had woken alone, gripping his pillow as he jolted into wakefulness. After staring at the ceiling for half an hour, he finally gave in to the inevitable and rolled out of bed. By the time he had changed into his running gear and hit the pavement downstairs, it was six a.m. The chill in the air kept him shivering until he had warmed up enough for the early morning run to feel even halfway bearable.
The ranks of morning joggers in the park had thinned as the season had grown colder, but those that still ran exchanged nods as they passed each other in silent solidarity. Finishing his cool-down stretches, Michael jogged at a slow pace back toward his apartment, and along the way passed a pedestrian just in time to have to endure a heavy exhalation of cigarette smoke. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the rank smell, and he marveled again that he had ever found the habit satisfying. It had been six months since he had quit, a fact of which he was inordinately proud.
Showered and dressed after his run, he set his coffee machine and took a seat at his desk, opened his manuscript document on the laptop and began to check it against the annotated version that Alistair had sent back. He began typing, stopping only when the smell of the fresh percolated coffee wafted through the apartment enough to catch his attention. He padded barefoot toward the kitchen and poured some coffee, adding cream and sugar to his liking before sipping it and carrying it back to his desk. Sinking back down into his chair, he took another sip and then set the cup down with mild regret. Kate’s coffee tasted better, but in the meantime this would have to do. The last passage on the screen wasn’t reading well, and he frowned over the words and kept working at it until they arranged themselves into a more pleasing pattern.
The cell phone lit up as the handset began to buzz and vibrate against the desktop. Michael shot it a brief look and kept typing. The phone stopped ringing and the apartment was silent again except for the tapping of Michael’s fingers on the keyboard. After a moment the phone beeped to indicate a voice mail message had arrived. Michael kept working.
The phone began to ring again.
Michael’s lips tightened in irritation before he turned from the laptop with a sigh and picked up the handset to answer the call.
“Forrester,” he answered. “What is it, Alistair?” Michael kept his focus on the screen as he scrolled through the text in front of him.
“How did you know it was me? I’m not even calling from my number.”
“Only you can make my phone sound so insistent,” Michael admitted, startling a laugh from his editor.
“Well, at least I know I’m good at something,” Alistair replied, and Michael could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m calling to see if you got my revisions.”
“I did,” Michael said. “I’m working on them now.”
“Already?”
“No time like the present,” Michael admitted. Normally he preferred to wait until his work was finished before he let anyone else’s influence intrude on the work, but Alistair had raised some interesting questions.
“I think I’m flattered. So you thought they were okay?”
“Some were,” Michael allowed. “Others were taking things in a direction I wasn’t happy with, but you’ve given me some ideas to work on.”
“That’s … I’m glad to hear it’s going well.”
Michael said nothing.
“Michael?”
“Sorry, what was that?” Blinking, Michael returned his attention back to the conversation.
“I said I was glad to hear it’s going well.”
“We’ll see,” Michael grunted. He wasn’t one to get his hopes up in advance when it came to his work.
“Listen, it sounds like you’re busy, so I’ll check in with you later. I was just calling to see how things were progressing.”
Michael leaned back and swiveled the chair slightly so that he was gazing out the window. The weather was getting progressively colder, and he noted that today the city looked gray in the pale morning light. He wondered if Kate was keeping warm, knowing she walked to work every day. There wasn’t much of her and he wondered if she had a good winter coat to withstand the weather. Perhaps he could do something about that.
“Okay,” he replied in an absent tone. The more he thought about Kate, the more he wanted to go see her. “Thanks for calling.”
He dimly heard Alistair say goodbye before disconnecting the call and reaching out to drop the phone on the desk as he kept gazing out the window. The phone clattered on the hardwood floor, jolting Michael back to the present. He had been so wrapped up in thoughts about Kate he hadn’t realized his reach had fallen short of the desk. Stooping over, he picked up the phone and checked the time. Scrolling through his contact list, he selected a number and d
ialed, leaning back in his chair and fiddling with a pen as the phone rang. It was still relatively early, but he knew at least one of his parents ought to be home.
“Hi, Mom,” he said when the call was answered.
“Michael,” his mother replied warmly. “How are you?”
“Good, all good here. How’re you and Dad?”
“Missing you, of course. How’s Kate?”
“Actually, she’s the reason I’m calling.” Michael flicked the pen back onto the desk and began scrolling up and down the screen for something else to do.
“You have my complete and undivided attention.” There was a slight scrape in the background and Michael knew that Susan had just pulled out a chair to take a seat at the kitchen table. His father always laughed when she did that, saying she was hunkering down for serious business.
Michael laughed. “Mom, don’t panic. I said it’s all good. I just wanted your advice on something.”
“Don’t propose on Valentine’s Day,” she responded promptly. “It’s too cheesy.”
“Okay, so that wasn’t where I was going, but I appreciate the advice all the same.” Michael scratched his chin, listening to his stubble rasp beneath his fingertips.
“You said advice,” she replied in a mild tone, “you didn’t say what for.”
“Only because you didn’t let me finish,” Michael rebuked her but smiled as he spoke.
“All right, so what’s the situation?”
“The weather,” Michael said promptly.
“Oh, honey,” Susan sighed. “By the time you’re just talking about the weather, there’s something seriously wrong. Have we taught you nothing?”
Michael rubbed his forehead. His mother was being deliberately obtuse which was something she did from time to time when he hadn’t been in touch often enough for her liking.
“You win,” he sighed. “What’s this conversation going to cost me?”
“Sunday lunch with the two of you.” Susan had the answer so readily that he knew she must have been thinking about inviting them for a while now. “Come early so we’ve got plenty of time. No need to bring anything.”
“I’ll check with Kate and let you know,” Michael allowed with a slight smile. “Can we talk now?”
“Of course, now that we’ve taken care of business, I’m prepared to play nice.”
“I appreciate it,” Michael said in a droll tone, “but I really was calling to talk about the weather.”
“Really?” Susan sounded taken aback now. “In what context?”
“Getting Kate a winter coat.” Michael sat waiting as his mother gave the situation some thought.
“I’m assuming she already has a duck down one,” Susan ventured after a pause.
“Sure,” Michael replied. He’d caught a glimpse of the puffy sleeve of it in Kate’s wardrobe the last time he’d been over. No self-respecting New Yorker was without a coat that could withstand the wind chill factor once winter tightened its grip on the city, “but I’m thinking something of middle ground would be good.”
“Okay.” Susan was thoughtful now, and Michael smiled at how seriously she was taking the proposition.
It had been a month since Michael had introduced Kate to his parents. They had been well aware that he was dating, thanks to an injudicious comment David had made to his parents, thus setting the lines of communication aflutter between the two families. Susan had phoned Michael, ostensibly to see how he was but fishing for information. Bowing to the inevitable, Michael had suggested his parents meet Kate and a lunch invitation and promptly been issued.
Kate had been charmingly nervous, and his parents had worked to put her at ease. Their approval of her had only deepened upon the discovery that she had a degree in English literature. Michael had breathed a quiet sigh of relief that his mother hadn’t immediately hauled out his books for literary show and tell. By the time their lunch had concluded, there seemed to be a genuine fondness growing between them that had Michael smiling all the way home.
Returning his attention to the present, Michael realized his mother had asked him question that he hadn’t caught.
“Sorry, Mom, I didn’t catch that,” he apologized.
“I was asking you what other coats she has,” Susan repeated.
“I haven’t gone prowling through her closet if that’s what you’re asking,” Michael retorted. “But we were out a couple of weeks ago and what she was wearing didn’t look warm enough.”
“Lucky you were there, huh?” his mother replied, and he could hear the smile in her voice.
“Yeah,” he conceded, “but getting back to the question, what do you recommend?”
“You’re after a mid-winter coat, so something fully lined and something that isn’t black. Kate likes color,” Susan concluded. She had visited the store a couple of times and the vibrant aprons and artwork-covered walls had given her a good sense of Kate’s style.
“I’m going to need more information than that,” Michael admitted, making his mother laugh.
“Michael, go to Saks, find the women’s fashion department, and then go to the coat section and get someone to help you.”
“Really? Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Susan confirmed. “You’ve got the money, and they want the sale.”
“If you say so,” Michael replied, trying to keep the dubious tone out of his voice.
They talked for a while longer before Michael excused himself and ended the call. He set the phone down on his desk again and stared out at the gray weather. He wanted to make sure Kate kept warm.
~~~
Kate blinked as she opened the oven door and the rush of warm air hit her face. Grabbing a couple of dishcloths, she pulled the trays of golden cupcakes out of the oven. Moving quickly she set them down on the waiting cooling racks and transferred another two trays into the oven to cook.
“Smells good in here,” Emily commented with an appreciative sniff as she popped her head around the doorway. “Nice and warm too.”
“How is it out there?” Kate asked, jerking her chin toward the storefront. “Everyone okay?”
“It’s fine,” Emily assured her. “I don’t think we’ll need to start using the heaters just yet.”
“Okay, as long as it’s comfortable.”
“Sure, boss.” Emily nodded, laughing as Kate gave her a look of fond exasperation. “By the way, those muffins you made are popular this morning.”
“Really?” Kate looked pleased. She had been in an experimental mood so had whipped up a tray of cranberry and orange muffins with a demerara sugar crust to hold off the morning rush before the daily cupcakes were ready.
“Really,” Emily confirmed with a nod. “I think you might have to make those again.” She gave the cooling cupcakes a curious look and then glanced back at Kate. “What’s today’s special going to be?”
Kate shook her head. “Work in progress, Emily. You know the drill.”
“Okay.” Emily held up her hands in surrender and withdrew.
Kate gave the cupcakes a gimlet stare as she pulled the mixer toward her to start making the frosting. Pouring in a generous measure of powdered sugar, she added a scoop of soft butter as she switched on the mixer. “Tiaras,” she muttered to herself as a faint idea began to stir. “Tiaras and shoes.” Leaving the mixer running, she turned and opened a drawer, eyeing the collection of inch-tall pots sitting in a neat row. She hadn’t used the contents before; perhaps today was the day.
~~~
Wren spooned some milk froth into the waiting cups and quickly drew a leaf pattern into the coffee. Emily grinned at her as she picked up the coffees, transferred the cups to their saucers and carried them out to the waiting customers. A quick glance confirmed that all the orders had been filled, and she held up an empty cup to Emily as she approached.
“Oh, please,” Emily sighed as she rounded the counter. “The first one barely touched the sides.”
“Another heart starter comin’ right up,�
� Wren replied as she cranked the coffee measure again. She turned to face the kitchen door. “You okay in there, boss?”
“Sure,” Kate answered. “Be right out.”
“Coffee?” Wren called back.
“Yup.”
Emily leaned against the counter and watched Wren get to work. Her own coffee skills had improved considerably since she had started, but she didn’t think she moved with the confident grace that Wren did. The small woman moved seamlessly from one task to the next, shooting Emily a couple of sidelong glances as she worked.
“Okay,” Wren said at last. “I give up. What’s on your mind?”
“You and David.” Emily had the answer so readily that Wren knew it had been on her mind for a while.
“What about us?” Wren kept her attention on the espresso coffee that was filtering into the cups.
“Just …” Emily paused and fidgeted with a pen before taking a deep breath and continuing. “Just how long do you think you can keep downplaying what you’ve got with him?”
“Huh?” Wren added a third cup and tried to feign ignorance.
“You heard me. You can shrug off David all you want, but the man is good for you, Wren. If you lose him, you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”
Wren paused and brushed some hair off her face as she tried to collect her thoughts.
“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” she replied in a mild tone.
Emily huffed out a breath and, to Wren’s surprise, nodded her agreement. “It is, but maybe it’s the kick in the pants you need.”
“Mmph.” Wren shrugged and began to frappe some milk. “If you say so.”
“I do say so,” Emily said more quietly. “Wren, you’re happier than I’ve seen you in a long time. Why can’t you admit it?”
Wren said nothing. Emily waited her out.
“Maybe sometime,” Wren said at last when she finished frothing the milk.
“When?” Emily pressed, and was startled to see the look of vulnerability on Wren’s face.
“Soon,” Wren replied. She knew that Emily was right; the moment was coming and it excited and exhilarated her all at once. David was a patient man, but even Wren knew that he wouldn’t wait forever. She sighed, letting her shoulders slump as she finished making the coffees and slid Emily’s cup toward her.
Take the Cake Page 37