Take the Cake (15 page)

Wren regarded him for a moment, wondering why she was indulging him. He wasn’t her usual type at all, and his self-assuredness made her feel as if she was charting unfamiliar waters.

~~~

Kate wandered out of the kitchen and saw Emily standing quietly, watching the front of the store.

“Whatcha doin’?” she asked, and was surprised to see Emily shush her to silence. She walked over to where Emily was standing and saw Wren and David. David was tugging at a ribbon on Wren’s apron as the two talked. Wren hesitated and then put down the plastic tub and pulled out a chair.

“Works every time,” Emily said in tones of quiet satisfaction.

“What does?” Kate asked, not taking her eyes off the duo.

Emily gave her a quick look, and then resumed her gaze. “I’ve worked in a few bars here and there. It’s the oldest trick in the book. Take two regulars, mix them together, and let them stew.”

“Really?”

“It never fails,” replied Emily. “You wait; it won’t be long now.”

“It might take Wren a while to realize that, though,” Kate commented.

“She’s a smart girl,” Emily said. “She’ll get there if Mr. Wonderful is patient.”

“Mr. Wonderful? Is that what you call him?”

Emily gave her a droll look. “No, that’s Wren’s name for him.” She glanced back at David. “Thing is, she was being facetious, but it turns out she might be right.”

“Emily, you’re an interesting woman,” Kate said after a moment.

“I know. Modest, too.”

~~~

It was with some regret that Kate watched Wren carry the chalkboard inside, lean it against the wall and then flip the window sign to CLOSED and pull the door shut. Michael hadn’t come in after all. Oh, well. She went back to taking the remaining cupcakes out of the cabinet, putting some aside for Emily to take home as she’d requested.

The three of them made short work of cleaning up. Kate counted up the takings and bagged it up, throwing the bag into the small safe that she’d had built into one of the kitchen’s lower cupboards. She’d drop it off at the night safe later in the week, staggering the drop off day as she’d mentioned to Paul.

“So I guess we’ll head off.” Wren appeared in the kitchen doorway. “See you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here.” Kate smiled. “Did you have a nice chat with Michael’s friend?”

“David,” Wren supplied, standing awkwardly in the doorway as she mentioned his name. “Uh … it was … interesting, I guess.”

“Interesting can be good,” Kate agreed. “He seems like a nice guy.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see,” Wren said in a carefully dismissive tone.

“Mmm-hmm.” Kate smiled.

Wren narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Kate said. “You go have a nice night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Kate was shrugging on her coat when a barrage of rapping on the front window brought her to the doorway. Wren was standing with her face up to the glass. When she saw Kate, she gave her a happy thumbs-up, and then went on her way. Kate stood there for a moment, baffled, and then went back into the kitchen to collect her bag. When she opened the door to leave, she saw what Wren had looked so happy about.

Michael was leaning against the wall, hands in pockets as he gave her an easy smile. The breeze ruffled his hair, blowing his scent toward her.

“Hey.” He smiled.

“Hey, yourself,” she answered, not bothering to hide her broad smile of delight. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, then straightened up and took a step toward her and waited as she closed up the shop. “I thought I’d walk you home again.”

She straightened up and smiled at him as she took a step closer.

Michael reached up to put his finger under her chin to draw her gaze back up to his as he dipped his head toward hers and gave her a soft kiss. They drew apart a fraction, and looked at each other. Kate nodded, and Michael smiled before leaning down to kiss her again. Kate closed her eyes and stepped closer still, until her chest was pressed up against his, feeling a rush of pleasure as Michael wrapped his arms around her to hold her close while their mouths explored each other’s.

They broke apart and regarded each other. “I don’t know about you,” Michael admitted, “but Saturday is just too damn far away for my liking.”

“I’ll second that,” Kate replied. “But if it’d make you feel better, you can keep kissing me.”

Michael’s mouth twisted into a grin. “You’d let me do that?”

“Just trying to help the situation is all,” Kate said with a smile, dropping her eyes to his lips.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” Michael said, and leaned down to kiss her again. This time he reached up a hand to cup her head against his lips, stroking his thumb against her throat. She gave a small hum of pleasure and ran her hands up his arms to hold him closer still.

They stood underneath the canopy of the store, kissing for a few minutes more before breaking apart with a quiet laugh.

“Come on,” Michael said, giving her another quick kiss. “Let’s get you home.” He looped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. He’d ended up working most of the afternoon, and when he realized the time, had rushed out of his apartment to get to the bakery, hoping to catch her before she left for the day. Wren had stopped short when she’d seen him quietly waiting, and he’d held a finger to his lips for quiet. The look on Kate’s face when she’d seen him had been worth the haste.

Kate felt a rush of pleasure at Michael’s words and settled her bag into a comfortable position on her shoulder. The weight and warmth of Michael’s arm around her felt good, and she smiled up at him as they began to walk.

“So, how was your day?” he asked, glancing down at her as she began to speak, looking forward to her words.

Soon they were lost in each other, and then they were lost in the afternoon crowd.

Chapter 10

The Fox and the Bear

“Morning, boss.”

“Wren, don’t call me boss,” Kate chided. She wasn’t going to admit it, but the morning banter with Wren always made her smile. When she first realized she was going to need staff, it had taken a while for her to get her head around being an employer. The fact that Wren made a game of it had made the assimilation process much easier for the two of them.

“Sorry, boss,” Wren said, waiting for Kate to unlock the door.

“Have you got a quote for the day yet?”

“Getting there,” Wren replied. She was considering a few options that had sprung to mind on her way to work. “Have you ever noticed how office workers look?”

“Huh?” Kate looked up at her as she opened the door and ushered her inside. “Can’t say that I have. Why?”

“Most of them wear black.”

“Well, I guess it’s a serviceable color, it goes with everything,” Kate said, flicking on the coffee machine and heading through to the kitchen to put her bag away. Wren followed, still talking.

“I know, but c’mon, a bit of color here and there wouldn’t kill them. You look next time you’re at the traffic lights. They all look like a big flock of crows.”

“Murder,” Kate replied absently.

“What?” Wren looked puzzled.

“They’re called a ‘murder of crows.’ You know, like a ‘pride of lions,’” Kate explained as she got out a couple of cups, then smiled and waved as she got out a third. Emily had just arrived.

“Hey, guys,” Emily said as she walked past. Kate and Wren chorused a greeting in return.

“So, on to other things. How’s Michael?” Wren said with a speculative glint in her eye.

“Good, he’s good,” Kate replied as she became very focused on the task at hand, so that she could avoid Wren’s gaze.

Michael had stopped by the bakery once more during the week for lunch, but had turned up twice more at closing time to walk Kate home. Although Kate was quite used to walking home alone, the days when Michael hadn’t been waiting for her gave her a slight pang, and she was aware of the lack of his presence more than she was ready to admit. He never assumed she didn’t have plans and told her in advance when he would be there. Even when he wasn’t expected she found herself watching for him all the same.

“Tomorrow night’s the night, huh?” Wren continued, smirking as she saw the telltale show of color on Kate’s neck.

“Mmm,” Kate replied in what she hoped was a casual tone. She poured the coffee into their cups and spooned on some extra milk froth. Emily appeared, and they toasted each other before taking their first sip of the day.

“Oh, that’s good.” Emily said, sighing in appreciation. “I swear this job is turning me into a cake and coffee addict.”

“Right there with ya, babe,” Wren replied, then glanced back at Kate. “So what’s today’s special?”

“Depends. I’ve got a couple in mind, but what’s your quote of the day going to be?”

Wren thought for a moment. “I think we’ll go with:
Remember you’re unique, just like everybody else.
”

“Oh, I
like
that one,” Emily gave a happy endorsement as Wren picked up the chalk and walked around the counter.

“Of course, I could come up with a lovey-dovey quote, but maybe I’ll save that for tomorrow,” Wren said over her shoulder as she headed toward the door.

“Thanks, no pressure or anything,” Kate called after Wren, who blew her an unrepentant raspberry as she carried the chalkboard outside.

Emily and Kate regarded each other over their cups. “Don’t you start,” Kate warned.

“I wasn’t even thinking of it,” Emily countered. “Wren is all smug now, but she’s next.”

“Good,” Kate replied. “It’ll be fun when it’s not me in the spotlight.”

Wren returned. “Right, so that’s done. What’s the cupcake going to be?”

“I’m thinking … 
Nothing Beets You, Baby
, a chocolate beet cupcake with chocolate ganache frosting.”

“Nice,” Wren commented, scribbling on the smaller chalkboard and setting it on the counter. “Now on to more important things. What are you going to wear tomorrow?”

Kate had taken her apron down from its hook in the kitchen and was tying it up at the back, giving herself a bit of time to think. “I haven’t thought it through yet.” Wren looked at her, aghast. “What?” Kate said in a defensive tone. She was lying. Kate had been thinking about the date all week, although it was safe to say that her thoughts had been wrapped up in Michael rather than what clothes she would be wearing at the time.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” Wren said in apparent despair.

“Maybe you could pick on someone else?” Kate replied as she checked that the plastic cover was snapped onto the apron properly. “Emily hasn’t said much about her mystery man lately.”

Both women turned to regard Emily, who had looked up from her bagel preparation at the mention of her name and was now giving her best deer-in-the-headlights impression. “Thanks, boss,” she muttered as Wren advanced toward her.

“Any time. Now if you’ll excuse me, these cupcakes aren’t going to bake themselves,” Kate replied and made a quick getaway.

“I’ve gotta say, Wren, people have been raving about the aprons,” Emily commented as they stood drying glasses and stacking them in rows on one of the counter tops later that morning.

“Really?” Wren asked with a pleased smile. Kate looked up from doing a quick inventory of the remaining cakes and nodded her agreement as she kept a silent tally running in her head.

“Yup, everyone wants to know where they’re from,” Emily continued. She put down the dishcloth she’d been holding and ran a gentle hand down the front panel. “They’re so gorgeous. I can’t believe I’ve got one.”

While Kate left her apron in the store each night, Emily had been taking hers home, lovingly spot-cleaning it when required and poring over the stitches and beading that Wren had worked into the design. She loved finding the tiny details Wren had included, and last night had been delighted to find a tiny silver seashell bead dancing on the hem of the main panel of watermarked blue silk and seed pearls sewn over the white oriental blossoms on another.

“What are people saying?” Wren said, curious to hear what sort of reaction her work had garnered.

“Oh.” Emily thought for a moment. “They comment on the fabrics and the patchwork and that they’re something really funky for a bakery.”

Wren nodded thoughtfully, intrigued that it had been a few days and still no one else had cracked the code but David. She frowned a little, thinking of the way he had gazed at her, and then had seemed to see right
through
her, as if there was nothing she could hide from him, and she had moved toward him, instead of away.

~~~

Michael was walking back to the apartment after his jog when his cell phone began to ring. He fished it out of the zip pocket in his running shorts and managed to answer it before it could divert to voice mail.

“Forrester,” he said as he continued walking.

“Michael, hi. It’s Alistair. Just calling to let you know I read the chapter you sent to me.”

The careful tone of Alistair’s voice had Michael slowing down his pace. “And?”

“And it’s …” There was a considered pause. “It’s good.”

Michael reached the intersection and waited for the light to change. “You’re not saying very much, Alistair.”

“Probably because I don’t quite know what to say.”

Michael snorted. “That’s rare.” The light changed, and he began to cross. “Just cut the bull and tell me what you really thought.”

“Michael, I don’t know what the hell you’re on … or what the hell you’ve been doing, but keep it up. I think this is …”

“What?” Michael frowned as a bus took off from the curb, drowning out Alistair’s voice. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Could you repeat it?”

“I said I think this could be your best work yet,” Alistair said in a slow, careful tone. He didn’t want to jinx the process any more than Michael did, but he’d been asked to critique, and praise had to be given where it was due. He’d received the email from Michael with a heavy heart, not knowing what to expect. Twenty minutes after he had started reading, he’d had his assistant clear his schedule for the day, and he had hunkered down in front of his computer in complete absorption. By the time he’d finished reading, his heart had been thumping with stealthy excitement.

“Well, that’s …” Michael began, then cleared his throat. “That’s unexpected.”

“Just calling it how I see it, Michael,” Alistair replied.

“And it’s appreciated,” Michael admitted with a reluctant smile.
It’s good. Alistair said it’s good. I’m back.

“Seriously, I don’t know what’s been going on, but your whole tone has changed. It’s very … optimistic.”

“There have been a few changes lately,” Michael allowed, “but that’s all I’m willing to say.”

“It’s okay,” Alistair said quickly. “You don’t have to tell me anything more than you’re comfortable with. Just tell me you’re going to keep writing.”

“I will, Alistair. As long as the words keep coming, I’ll keep writing.”

“Then that’s all I need to hear,” Alistair said, and Michael could hear the smile in his voice.

~~~

“Whatever you’re going to say, I’m not listening,” Kate said as she brushed past Wren with another tray of cakes. The morning trade in the store had been brisk enough, but now the afternoon was slowing down as more people left the city to escape for the weekend.

“Come on, you didn’t know what I was going to say,” Wren protested.

Kate slid the tray home, and then put her hands on her hips. “Was it something about shoes?”

“Maybe,” Wren mumbled, swirling a piece of ribbon from her apron around a finger. “I wasn’t going to talk
clothes
; I wanted to talk about
accessories
.”

“Same difference,” Kate replied, and then stopped and gave Wren a hug, “but points for trying.”

“It was worth a shot. Better luck next time, huh?” Wren admitted.

“Something like that.” Kate laughed, and carried the empty tray into the kitchen.

Emily approached Wren where she stood at the counter and leaned toward her. “You know full well that Kate could show up wearing sackcloth and he’d still think she’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah, I know. But I was trying to get her to think of her image a bit more.” Wren nodded as she watched Kate go.

“Image isn’t what he’s interested in either, even though Kate’s wrapped up in a pretty package. He likes her for what she is, pure and simple,” Emily reasoned.

“It must be nice,” Wren said in a quiet voice, “to have someone like that.” Her gaze flickered toward her feet, and then she looked at Emily, who was startled to see her looking so vulnerable.

“He’ll find you, Wren,” Emily replied.

Wren shrugged and put on a brave face. “Well, he’s taking his time. He doesn’t write, doesn’t call …”

~~~

The afternoon wound its way to a close, and Kate had just switched off the coffee machine as she glanced over at the woman working beside her.

“How’re you doing there, Emily? Nearly done?”

Emily looked up as she shut the dishwasher drawer and slung a dishcloth over her shoulder. “Just about, boss,” she began, laughing when she saw the look on Kate’s face. “I can’t help it—blame Wren!”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you two,” Kate said, shaking her head.

“It just kinda trips off the tongue,” Emily explained. “But anyway, I’m about finished up here. All the dishes have been washed and stacked, we’re fine for supplies tomorrow, and I’ve updated the order sheet.” She turned to wave a hand at the inventory order sheet that Kate kept on the refrigerator door. “So it’s all good.”

“Excellent, then I think it’s drink o’clock. I’ll get the glasses; you get the booze.” She walked to the kitchen doorway and looked at Wren. “Ready for a drink?”

Wren gave a fervent nod.

“Emily, you want to get out that dip platter I made earlier?” Kate asked as she collected some wine glasses out of the cupboard and carried them out into the store.

“Got it,” Emily replied, opening the fridge and getting out a large serving plate, then tucked a bottle of wine under her arm to follow Kate.

Kate waited for Emily to set the platter down on the table before swooping on it for a snack. The wine bottle followed, and Kate picked it up, still chewing as she poured everyone a glass.

There was a rat-a-tat at the window, and Kate looked up, waving enthusiastically for Paul to come in as she finished chewing. Wren opened the door and Paul stepped inside, beaming at everyone, sassing Wren and Emily before swooping his little sister up into a big brother bear hug.

The four of them settled down for a drink and enjoyed the process of winding down the working day. Kate sat and watched her brother as he sent the girls into fits of laughter and was pleased to see that Emily was able to hold her own against everyone’s exuberant personalities. An idea stirred at the back of her mind and she encouraged it, mulling it over as she sipped quietly at her wine. She wondered what Paul would make of it, and what he could see for the future.

~~~

“Morning, Betty,” Wren called as she got to the newsstand the next day on her way to work.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” The vendor looked up and beamed, dropping her reading glasses so that they swung off the imitation gold and pearl chain around her neck. “You want your usual?”

“Yup. How you doin’, Bets? Still breakin’ hearts?” Wren grinned.

“Now, don’t you sass me,” the old woman said, sliding the latest copy of
InStyle
and a packet of gum toward Wren, who handed over a few bills in exchange.

Wren waited for her change, and then stopped and looked at Betty. She’d been stopping at this newsstand for her magazine fix on the same day every month, and Betty was always there, rain, hail or shine. “Hey, Betty, can I ask you something?”

“Don’t see how I can stop you,” Betty replied in a placid tone.

Wren rested her elbows on the magazines and leaned in. “What did you want to be when you grew up? Did you have any dreams about what you wanted out of life?”