Take the Cake (46 page)

“What if …” She licked her lips and started again. “I’m scared that …” She blinked and cleared her throat. “It’s just that …” Her hands twisted the hem of her shirt until Michael reached over and covered her hand with his. The warm of his hand seeped into her skin and soothed her.

“Say it,” he urged her.

And suddenly it was that easy.

“I’m scared that I won’t like it,” she confessed.

~~~

“There,” Wren said as she dropped down into her seat and set her soda down in the cup holder. “That wasn’t so hard, was it.”

“No,” David sighed as he sank down into his seat. He stowed his soda and rested his candy on his lap before reaching over to pull Wren closer. She took the opportunity to snuggle against him and open his box of Junior Mints at the same time.

“So,” Wren began in an off-hand tone, “Kate sat me down and told me that I need to start doing something about my fashion.”

“Really?” David glanced down at Wren, who kept her gaze firmly on the screen. “What did she say?”

“Just that I ought to take a chance and make something of it.” Wren shrugged, holding the box of candy to David who shook some into his hand.

“Like I’ve been saying,” David commented.

“Yup.” Wren nodded. “She had some good ideas.”

David waited, but it seemed she wasn’t going to elaborate unless prodded.

“And?” he prompted. “What sort of ideas?”

“About how I could go part-time so that I’d have time to design. You know, supportive stuff like that.”

“How did you feel about it?”

“I don’t know,” Wren admitted. “Flattered, scared, all that stuff.” She frowned. “But I don’t know if I can afford to go part-time. Until I start selling, my income can’t really take a hit, not with rent to pay.”

“You know we’ve talked about that,” David said as he nudged her shoulder.

“I know.” Wren looked up at him and wrinkled her nose. “I just …” She broke off and sighed. “It’s a lot to take in. Can you give a girl time to think things through?”

“Sure.” David nodded.

Wren blinked up at him for a moment, and then offered a hesitant smile. “So, this could all be really happening?”

“If you let it.” David smiled.

“Wow.” Wren blinked as a wave of excitement and fatigue washed over her. Rousing herself, she reached over and plucked a Junior Mint out of David’s hand and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm,” she said as the chocolate began to melt on her tongue. “Now I’m starting to feel relaxed.”

“Right,” David said with amusement. “We just had to go outside into the freezing cold to catch a cab downtown to a cinema so you could tell me your big news of the day and I could buy you exorbitantly priced candy.”

“But it’s making me feel better,” Wren said in a small voice.

David looked down to see Wren peering up at him from where she had her head resting on his shoulder, and sighed.

“Then it’s a good thing,” he said in a gentle voice, and Wren smiled before snuggling against him with a quiet sigh as David rubbed his hand up and down her shoulder in a soothing rhythm.

The lights dimmed as the trailers began to screen, and Wren was asleep before the film’s opening credits had even finished. David noticed this with a mild sigh and shifted slightly to get comfortable, resigning himself to watching a movie that he knew nothing about while his girl slept soundly against his shoulder.

~~~

Michael blinked at Kate and felt himself relax. At last they were finally talking about the subject that they had been skirting for months, and it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

“That’s what had you worried all this time?” He reached out and brushed some hair off Kate’s face with a gentle hand.

Kate sighed and leaned into his touch before blinking sleepily at him.

She gave him a wry smile. “Well, that and the fact that Alistair told me a bit of what you were writing about.”

“Right.” Michael’s lips tightened.

“Are you mad that I found out that way?” Kate ventured as she watched his expression.

“Yeah, a little,” Michael admitted. “I wanted to show you myself without someone blurting it out, but somehow it just never happened. I wanted to,” he went on, wanting to reassure her now. “I never wanted to hide it, but I was just waiting for the right time, and for some reason it just never came.”

“Life’s funny like that.” Kate nodded. “Jack used to tell Paul and me not to wait because life isn’t a dress rehearsal.”

“Good advice.” Michael nodded. “He was a smart man.”

“He never thought so.” Kate’s smile was sleepier now. “He always said it was common sense, but have you ever noticed that common sense isn’t common?”

Michael nodded as he ran his hand down Kate’s arm and settled it on her hip as he pulled himself closer to her.

“Hmm.” He ran his nose along Kate’s jaw and nuzzled her neck, making her give a slow but delighted squirm.

“So,” Kate ventured after they had exchanged a soft kiss, “how much am I in there?”

“A lot,” Michael admitted. “But there are a lot of other characters too.” He pulled back so that he could look into her eyes. “I didn’t use your name, but there’s enough in there for you to recognize as being you.”

“Right.” Kate considered this and nodded. She hadn’t been able to work out what it was Michael had been writing. Of course, she could have spared herself the angst and taken him up on his offer months ago, but for some reason, she had shied away. Knowing she wasn’t featured as some sort of biographical character gave a measure of reassurance that she hadn’t realized she needed. “When does it come out?”

“The book?” Michael blinked at her change of tack. “Not for a while. There’s a lot of work to be done. It could be anything from six months to a year.”

“So long?” Now it was Kate’s turn to blink in surprise. “What on earth do they have to do?”

“Well …” Michael took a breath and then glanced at her. “Do you really want the technical details?”

“Bring it on.” Kate nodded.

“Well, for starters, Alistair will read it and send the manuscript back with his comments for revision. I might agree with some, all, or none, but it’s a point for negotiation.”

“But you said you’d already sent some to him,” Kate pointed out.

“I did.” Michael nodded. “That was when I wanted him to get a sense of what I’d been working on, but he hasn’t read the whole thing.”

“Gotcha.” Kate snuggled a little closer to him, nudging him until he rolled onto his back and opened his arms so that she could snuggle against him with her head on his chest. “Go on.”

“When I’ve made the revisions, the manuscript goes to a copy editor, and that person checks every word, the continuity, fact checking queries if needed, and then sends it back to the editor. Alistair then checks the comments and sends it back to me so that I can answer the copy edit manuscript.”

“Mm-hmm.” Kate’s eyes fluttered closed. Michael felt nice and warm, and his voice was a reassuring rumble in his chest. He may not have realized he was doing it, but he was running his hand in lazy circles over her back and occasionally combing her hair with his fingers.

“So once that’s done, the production department gets involved. They choose a typeface, and the typesetter prepares an original cast-off which is when we know how many pages the book is going to be.” Michael paused as he thought about this. “That’s when I usually freak out.”

“Why’s that?” Kate asked.

“I guess it’s one thing to write the damn thing, but finding out it’s going to be anything from four hundred to seven hundred pages is kinda daunting.” Some of Michael’s books weren’t known for their brevity. “Then they come up with the cover art, which I have nothing to do with.” Michael pulled a face at this. Sometimes he liked the cover art, other times he wondered if anyone in that department had taken the time to actually read the book, but it was out of his hands. “After that, I get a big fat package in the mail, and that’s the galley proof.”

“Sounds like a pirate police line-up,” Kate commented, startling a rumble of laughter from Michael that set her head to bouncing up and down on his chest until his laughter subsided. Kate sighed and slid her arm around his waist as he kept talking.

“The galley proof is the typeset, unbound copy of the book, and if it’s all okay, then they go into production. Then the marketing people get involved and they send off advance copies to everyone they can think of. Book reviews are usually arranged anything up to six months in advance, so Alistair has been kinda ticked.”

“Why’s that?” Kate lifted her head to peer at Michael.

“That damn writer’s block.” He smiled at her indignant expression, protective of a book she hadn’t even read yet. “It threw the whole schedule out, but they’re working on a new timeline now to get things up to speed.”

“Well, that wasn’t your fault.” Kate huffed as she settled back against Michael’s shoulder. “You didn’t know you were going to get writer’s block.”

“True,” Michael agreed. “But I have to say that the cure for it has been amazing and life changing.”

“What was it?”

“You.” Michael smiled at her look of surprise. “It was always you, Kate. I just didn’t know that until I found you.”

Chapter 25

Fashionable Phases of Life

“I think that’s the last of it,” Paul said as he shifted the stacked boxes off the moving trolley and stood wiping his face with the hem of his T-shirt.

“Oh, you’re such a good brother,” Kate said as she emerged from the bedroom to collect another box from the ones Paul had piled up in the living room.

“I’m your favorite brother, right?” Paul gave her a hopeful look.

“You’re my bestest, most favorite brother,” she assured him.

“That’s what I thought.” Paul grinned.

“And the fact that I’m going to be cooking for you for the next year to thank you for helping me move has nothing to do with it,” Kate went on.

“Well, it doesn’t have to be a whole year,” Paul said after a ruminative pause. “But regular cupcake offerings will certainly be highly regarded in terms of paying off this massive debt of thanks you owe me.”

“How massive are we talking about here?” Kate called as she hefted a box and carried it over to set down in front of the bookshelves.

“Oh, I’m thinking at least once a month,” Paul suggested with a grin. He peered at the boxes in the pile and read Kate’s handwritten label on the top. Seeing they were full of books, he gave a quiet sigh and eased them back onto the trolley so that he could wheel them over to Kate. “How about I just set these ones here, and you can unpack when you’re ready.”

“Thanks,” Kate said in an absent voice as she stuffed a handful of books onto an empty shelf.

Paul watched her efforts with mild interest as he took the opportunity for a break.

“Aren’t you going to put them into some sort of order?” It hadn’t escaped his notice that Michael’s bookshelves were alphabetized.

“Nope,” Kate said. “I like having them in random order. It means I have to go looking, and then sometimes I find books I forgot I had.” She gave him an impish grin. “Plus it’s going to freak Michael out.”

“If that’s what you want,” Paul said with a low chuckle.

“I figure it can’t hurt for him to get a little ruffled on occasion,” Kate went on, completely unaware that Michael had entered the apartment and was silently creeping up behind her.

“Like that, is it?” Michael said in a low voice beside Kate’s ear, laughing and stepping back when she shrieked.

“Michael.” Kate turned and swatted his arm as he ducked away with a grin and set down the box he was carrying. “And you …” She turned and pointed at Paul who was wearing a matching smile. “Thanks for your backup there.”

Paul spread his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, I’m not getting involved.”

“Right,” Kate scoffed as she reached for another handful of books. Michael watched as she studied the spines for a moment and then set them on the shelf, shoving them against the other books already there and holding them steady as she reached for more.

“I hadn’t actually thought of it like that,” Michael commented, and went on when Kate looked up at him. “The random order, I mean. I think I like it.”

“Try it sometime and see what you think,” Kate offered. “And it’s not so random; I usually remember where they all are. My books are all like old friends to me.”

“And soon you’ll have a new one, right, Babycake?” Paul commented as he reappeared from the kitchen having fetched a glass of water.

“Let’s hope so,” Michael answered. “Paul, I’m getting another box. See you down there?”

“Sure, let me just finish this.” Paul held up his glass, and Michael nodded before leaving the apartment. He turned to Kate as soon as Michael had gone. “So, he’s told you more about the book?”

“A bit.” Kate nodded as she reached for more books. “We had a talk about it a couple of weeks back.”

“And you’re telling me now?” Paul looked affronted.

Kate emptied the box and set it aside to reach for the next one. She would go back and sort through the books later, but for now she just wanted to get rid of the packing boxes. As it was, the apartment looked like a war zone, and although there was more than enough space in the place, Kate found it unsettling to see her surroundings in such a state of upheaval.

“Yup.” Kate nodded.

“So how much do you know?” Paul chugged down his water and set the glass down on one of the boxes.

“Enough to wait until it comes out,” Kate replied as she gave him what she knew was an infuriating smile.

“Aw, c’mon,” Paul protested as she knew he would. “You’ve gotta give me more than that.”

“Nuh-uh.” Kate shook her head as she picked up a box labeled KITCHEN. “I want to be as surprised as everyone else.”

“How surprised?” Paul narrowed his eyes as he watched her reaction. He was fishing for clues, however small.

“
Good
surprised,” Kate confirmed and then turned to walk toward the kitchen. “You’d better not leave Michael waiting.”

“Right,” Paul muttered as he ran his hands through his close-cropped hair. “Good surprised? Okay, I can work with that.” He headed out of the apartment sure he had heard a muffled laugh as the door closed behind him. He got downstairs to see Michael leaning against the truck.

It had taken Kate two weeks and a few mornings off work to get her things packed up. There were a few choice pieces of furniture that she would be bringing with her: Gwen’s armchairs, Jack’s barometer, the coffee table from the family home. But for the most part her furniture was not something she had a deep sentimental attachment to. Her books, on the other hand, were an entirely different story. Her bookshelves had been lovingly packed away, and along with her art collection, were amongst the first items to be moved. Paul and Michael had provided the muscle, and Paul had procured a truck from work to help out.

“Sorry, man,” he apologized as reached the street and jogged toward the truck as he fished out his keys. “Kat and I got talkin’.”

“No worries.” Michael waved off the apology. “Everything okay?”

“Sure.” Paul grinned. “She was telling me about the book.”

“Really?” Michael’s eyebrows went up at that. “So she told you about …” Michael broke off and considered Paul who did his best to look unconcerned. “Wait, she didn’t tell you anything.”

“Dammit,” Paul groused as he tossed back the tarpaulin cover and started to pull an armchair toward him. “I thought I had you there.”

“You nearly did,” Michael admitted as he helped lift the chair. “But Kate told me how you guys used to play your folks against each other when you wanted something.”

“Well, hell,” Paul grunted again as they lifted the chair off the back. “Two against one, that ain’t fair.”

“Sure isn’t,” Michael agreed with a grin as they shuffled through the front door of the building and toward the service elevator. Michael hit the call button with his elbow, and when the elevator doors opened, they carried the chair inside and set it down. Watching Paul as he punched the button, Michael cleared his throat and straightened up. It was now or never. “Paul, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” he began.

~~~

“Morning, boss.”

“Wren, don’t call me boss.”

“Sorry, boss.” Wren beamed. “So, how was the big move? Are you all done?”

“Mostly.” Kate nodded as she unlocked the security grill and rolled it up.

“What does that mean?” Wren asked as she watched Kate unlock the front door. “Are you in or not?”

“I’m in,” Kate replied. “But I’ve still got to go back to my place and finish cleaning it to get it ready to rent out.”

“Sounds like fun,” Wren commented as she followed Kate inside.

Kate flicked on the coffee machine and continued into the kitchen to wrestle out of her goose down coat.

“So how was last night?” Wren asked as she followed suit.

“Quiet.” Kate laughed. “By the time we had everything moved, we were beat. Lucky for us, Michael ordered enough pizza to sink a battleship.”

Kate smiled to herself as she slipped her apron on and tied it up at the back, thinking about the evening before.

The moving process had progressed well enough but it wasn’t until everyone sat down to relax that the efforts of the day had caught up with them; Kate had been so tired she had barely been able to string a sentence together. Pizza had been ordered and consumed with minimal conversation, and Paul had been yawning enough to split his head by the time he had called it a night.

The sound of the refrigerator door closing jolted Kate back to the task at hand, which was getting the morning coffees going, a task she was reminded of as Wren thoughtfully grabbed the milk out and set it on the counter as a prompt.

“So after dinner,” she said, resuming the conversation about the night before, “I don’t think any of us were capable of doing much.”

“And then what?” Wren asked as she followed Kate out to the storefront.

“Not much.” Kate shrugged as she got out some cups. “We ate and talked for a while, Paul left, and we called it a night.”

“I see.” Wren gave a hopeful leer at Kate who looked at her for a moment before pushing her hair off her face.

“No, you don’t.” Kate gave a tired chuckle. “We slept like the dead, and when I got up this morning, I had to try to remember where I’d put everything.”

“Really?” Wren looked disappointed. “I thought you guys would have been celebrating.”

“Oh, we’ve been celebrating,” Kate assured her. “Just not yesterday.”

“Gotcha.” Wren nodded, and then looked up with a smile as Emily pushed the door open and stepped in, her cheeks pink with cold. “Hey, girl.”

“Hey,” Emily greeted them as she breezed past to hang up her coat. “Get that coffee ready, boss. It’s
cold
out there.”

“Comin’ right up,” Kate assured her and then looked at Wren with a raised eyebrow. “Milk?”

“What do you think that is?” Wren nodded at the milk container she had set down on the counter earlier.

“I didn’t even see you do that,” Kate said as she reached for it. “Wren, you’re
good
.”

“That’s what you pay me for,” Wren said with a complacent sigh.

Emily reappeared, and the three women got to talking about their weekend, Kate’s move and important fashion advice from Wren.

“Dresses are fine, but I’m saying you’re going to want a heavier fabric this time of year,” Wren instructed as she sipped at her coffee in between tasks. “I’ve got a gorgeous wool blend print that is going to lend itself beautifully to what I have in store for you,” she went on as she gestured at Kate with her cup.

“Oh, what plans are those?” Kate looked up from her order forms.

“Let’s just say it’ll be a masterful blend of Diane von Furstenberg and my devious mind,” Wren said in a satisfied tone.

Kate tapped her pen against the clipboard as she considered Wren’s words.

“Did you understand any of that?” she asked Emily.

“Not a word,” Emily assured her. “Let me know when she comes out with the English language version.”

“Guys,” Wren huffed, “all you need to know is that you’re going to love it.”

“Then that’s all we need to know.”

“Oh, and that you need to get boots,” Wren added as an afterthought.

“What sort?” Emily asked as she looked up from her inventory of the freshly chopped ingredients she had assembled on the counter.

“Knee-high,” Wren began as she ticked off the salient points on her fingers, “black or brown. You can get either, but let me know which color you go with, and the heel I’ll leave up to you.”

“Generous of her,” Emily muttered in an amused undertone to Kate who gave a quiet snort.

“I heard that,” Wren snapped. “Now pay attention. I’m only going to say this once. No accessory shopping.”

“Huh?” Kate looked surprised at this.

“You heard me,” Wren replied. “I’ll talk to your boys. They should have some input into this, given you’ll be wearing my dresses to our Christmas party.”

“What sort of input do we have?” Emily objected.

Wren gave her a pitying look. “Didn’t I just tell you that you could buy boots?”

“Is that it?” Emily stared at her.

“That’s it.” Wren nodded. “Now if you two have finished asking questions, time’s a-wasting. Get back to work.” She waved an indulgent hand before winking and sailing out into the store to check the condiment supplies on the tables, and once satisfied they were all right, she went to get the chalkboard.

“Wow. When she’s on a mission, she gets drunk with power,” Kate commented in a stage whisper to Emily.

“I can’t deny it,” Wren sang back. “It’s like a drug.” She grabbed the chalkboard and carried it over to the counter where Kate stood waiting. Wren held out her hand. “Chalk me,” she instructed, grinning when Emily passed the stub of chalk over with all the efficiency of a surgical nurse. “Here goes,” she said and wrote quickly.

“Any clues?” Emily said as she leaned over the counter to get a look.

“No clues needed. I’m done,” Wren quipped. She dropped the chalk into its waiting cup and then swiveled the chalkboard so that the other two women could read it.

Lead me not into temptation,
I can find it myself.

“I love it.” Kate laughed. “But you’re getting soft, Wren. What’s up with that?”

“Let’s just call it an early Christmas present.” Wren shrugged. “And I had a hankering for what I thought you might make when you saw this.”

“Right.” Kate nodded. “You better hope I have some,” she said as she walked into the kitchen.

“Are you two talking in some kind of code?” Emily asked.

“Kinda,” Wren conceded, “but you’ll get the hang of it soon enough.” She looked up as Kate reappeared in the doorway.

“You’re in luck.” Kate smiled before she disappeared again.

“I love it when a plan comes together,” Wren said as Emily gave her a measuring stare. “What?”

“You know, you’re the only one that seems to know what’s going on around here today,” Emily said as she paused, bagel in hand.

“Yeah.” Wren couldn’t conceal her satisfied snicker. “It’s great.”

“Right.” Emily went back to work, thinking about the situation while Wren strolled to the stereo and put some more music in. “So,” she ventured after a considered pause, “I’m thinking maybe you could share some of the goods.”