Take the Cake (34 page)

~~~

Kate blinked against the sudden darkness of the room, and then rolled over onto her side, trying to get comfortable enough to get to sleep. She had wanted him to spend the night, but she had seen the distant look in his eyes and known that she couldn’t compete with his words. She shifted in the bed, kicking against the sheets that felt too constrictive over her feet and then reached up to pull a spare pillow against her chest. She wrapped her arms around it and took a deep breath, realizing that she could detect a trace of Michael’s scent.

Perhaps Paul was right. Nothing in life was certain; that was a lesson that she had learned the hard way. She had no way to predict the future, no way of knowing what life had in store for her. Perhaps there would never be a right time to tell Michael she was falling in love with him. Curling herself around Michael’s pillow, she felt her body ache and wished he were there beside her. She rolled over and gazed at the bedside table where she had left her phone. Perhaps she could call him back to her. For a moment she began to reach out and then arrested the gesture, her arm half-extended before she turned back to the pillow with a sigh.

She wondered what he was writing and then told herself again that she didn’t want to know. The conversation with Tom was very fresh in her mind. She was glad they had aired their grievances yesterday; it was time for their college relationship to mature into adult life once and for all. A part of her would always love Tom, just as a part of her would always hurt. Her thoughts wandered from Tom back to Michael, and she sighed again. Perhaps it was best if she didn’t read what he was writing. Some secrets were better left unsaid.

~~~

Michael walked home deep in thought. Snippets of the evening conversation flickered through his mind, setting off an unconscious trail of word associations that lead his attention back to his work. He sighed and shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets. He really didn’t know how Kate would feel about the book when it came out, and again he wondered if he should encourage her to read it. Her refusal had surprised him at first. He had offered the manuscript to her on the spur of the moment, and now he realized how much he needed her to read it and to understand.

But she didn’t want to read and he couldn’t force her. Perhaps in time she would be ready. All he could do was wait and wonder. He wished he knew how she felt about it. In the meantime, he knew how he felt about her.

He loved Kate; he was sure of that now.

When he had left her at the store to deal with Tom, his chest had felt hollow and the empty feeling hadn’t dissipated until he had seen her again. It was a feeling he was experiencing more and more these days. He had only been just beginning to realize that when he had entered her store. He had stepped into her world, and she had been steadily binding him to it ever since. She left him feeling satisfied in a way that no amount of words had been able to accomplish.

He wanted to tell her how he felt, perhaps when the time was right.

Michael walked on, words swirling in his head.

Chapter 20

Tiaras and Winter Warmers

Kate nodded a greeting as she approached Wren, who was waiting underneath the store canopy, rubbing her mitten-clad hands together.

“Morning, boss,” Wren called out as she gave a quick salute.

“Wren, don’t call me boss,” Kate replied as she produced the door keys from her pocket and unlocked the roller door.

“Sorry, boss.” Wren blew a bubble and stamped her feet in an attempt to keep warm while Kate rolled up the security grill.

“Been waiting long?” Kate asked as she unlocked the front door.

“Longer than usual,” Wren admitted. “Stayed at David’s last night and woke up early is all.”

“You had
another
sleepover?” Kate glanced at Wren as she opened the door and stepped aside to usher the smaller woman inside. “Keep this up and I’ll start to think you guys are getting serious.”

Wren snorted as she headed toward the kitchen, shrugging off her coat as she went. “Talk to David about it,” she quipped as she hung up her coat and began to tie on her apron. “He’s the one that keeps pushing the issue.”

“How so?” Kate had flicked on the coffee machine and was now stowing the shop keys on their usual hook before removing her coat. She rubbed her hands briskly against her upper arms in a bid to warm up quicker, making a mental note to wear more layers tomorrow.

“
He
thinks we’re dating,” Wren said as she picked up the chalkboard and hefted it onto a nearby table for better writing access.

“Right,” Kate said as she flicked a lever to measure coffee into the filter.

“Hey, guys.” Emily let herself into the store, her cheeks reddened from the chill outside.

“Hey,” Wren called over her shoulder as she picked up her stub of chalk.

“So what would you call it?” Kate asked as she kept her attention on the espresso filter running into the two cups.

Wren stopped and considered Kate’s question. “Actually, I don’t know,” she admitted at last, “but I don’t know that we’re
dating
.”

“What’d I miss?” Emily re-appeared from the kitchen, tying on her apron.

“Wren here isn’t sure she and David are dating,” Kate said in a droll voice.

Emily stopped and looked at Wren with disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What?” Wren shrugged. “It doesn’t seem that serious.”

“Right,” Emily said as she got out a third cup and slid it toward the coffee machine where Kate was standing. “Have you been seeing anyone else?”

“No, she isn’t,” Kate answered for her. “And from what I hear, neither is David.”

“How did you know that?” Wren turned around to look at Kate.

“Michael told me,” Kate said with a smug smile. She removed the two cups from the machine and added the third, refilling the coffee filter with practiced movements and reaching for the milk jug.

“Right,” Wren said. She had the feeling she was losing ground in the conversation, but wasn’t entirely sure how.

Kate shot her a quick look and then went back to making the coffee as she thought about what Michael had told her a few days ago while they were getting dinner ready at her apartment. From what Michael could tell, David was more serious about Wren than he had been about any other woman in quite some time.

“What about you and Michael?” Wren asked, pulling Kate’s attention back to the present.

“What about us?” Kate replied, stirring some sugar into her coffee.

Wren pushed herself away from the counter and took a few steps toward the table where the chalkboard waited, before she answered.

“Well …” She scrawled absently on the chalkboard, frowning when she realized she had doodled David’s initials and wiped the board clean with her hand. “The two of you seem tight. You’re practically living at each other’s homes, you spend every free moment you have together, you’ve met his parents and he’s met Paul.” Wren gave her an expectant look.

“And?” Kate looked at her.

“Have you told each other how you feel?”

“Not in so many words,” Kate hedged, “but I think we both know.”

“Boss, even Lincoln said ‘to assume is to make an ass of you and me.’ I don’t think you should keep taking things for granted,” Wren huffed.

Kate coughed to cover her laugh. “Spoken by the woman who can’t admit she’s dating.”

“It’s always different when it’s someone else,” Emily commented in a sage tone from her position at the counter where she was pulling out the tubs of sandwich fixings for the day. She paused when she saw both women looking at her. “Or easier to call, just sayin’,” she went on with a slight shrug.

“The Oracle speaks,” Wren muttered in a not-so-quiet undertone.

Emily paused in her task and strolled over to the counter to collect the proffered coffee with a smile. “I just want you two happy, but you’re going to have to accept what’s in front of you and admit what it is that you want.”

“Uh-huh.” Wren nodded, looking dubious now. “And that’s what you did with Bookstore Brad?”

“Yup.” Emily gave her a Cheshire cat grin of satisfaction. “And things have never been better.”

“Really?” Kate was intrigued now. “You just came out and said it?”

Emily gave the matter some thought. “Well, there was some give and take on both sides really, but the time came where we told each other how we felt. Trust me, when you finally give words to how you feel, it’s really …” She paused to search for the right words.

“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 dialed, 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.”