Take the Cake (9 page)

~~~

Michael realized that he was walking with no particular destination in mind. He glanced around him, looking at all the shops and traffic, and decided to go somewhere different for a change. He’d heard his mother talking about the Hell’s Kitchen Flea Market. It wasn’t his usual thing, but of course, the longer he stayed out, the longer he’d be away from the computer. He hesitated a moment longer, and then crossed the street.

He made his way through the market, feeling out of place as he walked past an array of stalls offering vintage and contemporary women’s fashion, pausing to admire some hand bound leather journals before realizing they were pointless. Perhaps that would change in time, but he wasn’t about to tempt fate buy purchasing some more blank pages that would no doubt come back to haunt him. Michael sighed as he paused and looked at the crowds of people. Getting off the beaten track was one way of making new discoveries, but it might help if he knew what he was looking for in the first place. That was when he saw her.

He moved toward her through the crowd, watching as Kate laughed and joked with a woman at a stall. They exchanged bills and Kate took careful possession of some flat packages. She’d just bought something. Michael stopped and gazed at her for a moment. He was used to seeing her with her hair up and off her face when she was working. It was a curious sensation, seeing her outside of her usual environment. Kate was wearing her hair down, and he admired the way it fell over her bare shoulders. She laughed and joked with her usual ease, and she turned away with a smile and a wave, strolling through the crowd with a careless grace. Her good mood was evident by the half-smile that played on her lips.

Michael stood, watching her navigate the crowds. A toddler clutching a stuffed toy wandered out into her path and she half-tripped and caught the child by his shoulders. The child clutched at her legs as they staggered around in a laughing waltz before Kate got her balance again. She grinned and exchanged a couple of words with the child’s parents before continuing on her way. Michael began to follow her progress, trying to think of something to say. He wanted something witty, something that would warm her eyes. He liked her smile and he wanted to see it again.

Kate strolled through the market, feeling pleased with herself. All she had to do was find some picture frames and her new purchases could be displayed in the shop. She stopped to buy a warm pretzel and was chewing with great enjoyment when she turned and bumped straight into someone’s chest.

“Mmph!” she half-choked and swallowed as she apologized on impulse. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She felt warm hands clasp her upper arms as she stumbled a half pace backwards, and looked up to see a man looking just as startled as she was.

Michael had been following at a hesitant pace, longing to be able to say something to her, clenching his hands in frustration. Why was this so hard? He’d stopped to consider the situation. He didn’t feel intimidated by her; quite the contrary. He’d felt more comfortable with her than he had with anyone else for years. He’d drawn closer until he could reach out and touch her and still the words stuck in his throat. The situation had resolved itself before he could realize what was happening. He had just taken a step closer just as she abruptly wheeled about and collided with him. He automatically reached out to balance her as their impetus knocked her back a step. Her wide, brown eyes looked up at him as he steadied her. He could feel her hair brushing against his hands where he held her upper arms, and her skin felt warm from the sun. He smiled at her, realizing that he hadn’t heard a word she’d said.

“Are you okay, Kate?” he asked, the words bubbling up and out.

“I’m fine.” Her forehead creased in puzzlement. “You look familiar. Have we met?”

He dropped his hands from her arms as if scalded. She had no idea who he was. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, feeling awkward.

“Uh, yeah. I’m Michael,” he replied.

She gave him a polite stare.

“We’ve talked at your store a few times. You shared your lunch with me,” he clarified, trying to fill in the blanks.
Please, please remember me.

To his vast relief, her expression cleared as her mouth formed an “O” of recognition.

“Michael, right. Please forgive me. I meet so many people during the week. Of course, I remember you now,” she apologized as her cheeks turned pink. “This is so embarrassing, but when I see people out of context, I have a hard time placing them.”

“It must be nice to know that many people,” Michael observed, feeling his momentary tension begin to ease.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward,” she said, reaching out to grasp his forearm, and he looked at her in surprise. “Jack—my dad—used to rub his neck like that when he was a bit uncomfortable too.”

“I was actually coming over to say hello,” Michael explained. “In a city this big, it’s not often that I bump into someone I know. I just didn’t realize you liked to do it literally.”

“I like to be thorough.” Kate grinned. “Are you out shopping today?”

“Not really. I just had brunch with my folks and thought I’d go exploring afterward.”

“It’s a lovely day for it,” Kate offered. “Have you found anything interesting?”

“You know,” Michael said, “I think I have.”

They fell in step with each other and began to stroll through the market. Occasionally a gust of wind would blow Kate’s hair onto Michael’s shoulder, carrying a cloud of her scent. It made him think of cupcakes and sunshine and was a smell he would forever associate with her. They kept talking, and Michael found that she managed to surprise a few laughs out of him along the way. He was even more delighted when he made her laugh in return. It was as if she had tapped into a hidden well of conversation he didn’t know he had and the words kept flowing. They reached the edge of the market and stopped to look back at where they’d been.

“So,” Kate said, looking up at him, “I guess we’ve seen everything here today.”

She may have, but Michael had found himself watching
her
reaction to everything instead.

“You want to get a coffee or something?” He paused for her reaction, and then decided to tease her. “I know this great place if cupcakes are your thing.”

“I don’t think I could eat anything else. I seem to have been grazing all morning,” she said, rubbing an apparently flat tummy.

He tried to hide his disappointment.

“Still,” she went on, “coffee never goes astray. Do you know of any good cafés around here?”

“I’m sure we can find something,” Michael replied. “Want to keep exploring?”

“Sure.” She smiled, and to his surprise slipped her arm through his in a show of familiarity as they began to follow the path out of the park.

Michael looked at the blue sky, and then glanced at Kate’s hair as she chattered away at his side. The sun was revealing auburn tints to her hair that he hadn’t noticed before, and her yellow and white sundress flowed around her as they walked. Everything about Kate seemed warm: her hair, laughing eyes and smile, even her smell. He smiled as he realized that for the first time in a long time, he felt content. He didn’t care how long she stayed with him today, only that she stayed awhile longer.

~~~

Later that afternoon, Kate opened the door to her apartment and walked inside, hanging up her keys on the hook beside the door and putting her sunglasses on the deep, wooden mirror frame, adding her earrings to the modest collection in the Chinese teacup.

She walked with a lazy pace into the living room, tossing her bag onto the couch but holding onto the prints she’d purchased from the market. She unwrapped them, letting the paper fall to the floor as she held them out for inspection, one at a time. They were small, no bigger than a sheet of copy paper, but there was a whimsical charm about them. She propped two of them up on her bookshelves and put one beside her bag to take to work in the morning. It had been a delightful day.

After bumping into Michael, they had ended up spending much of the afternoon together. They had started with a coffee, and then it had seemed only natural to browse through some of the nearby shops. A bookstore had been open and she hadn’t been able to stop herself from going inside, apologizing to Michael in advance.

“Books are my addiction,” she had warned him. “It could get messy.”

He had laughed at that.

“No, really. I get this blank stare while I’m in the zone. Wren swears that one day I’ll start drooling.”

“Which one’s Wren?”

“The little one, the Pocket Rocket,” Kate had clarified.

He had snapped his fingers. “Now I know exactly who you’re talking about.”

As soon as they had stepped into the store, she had lost track of time. They had meandered around the store for a while, acquainting themselves with the layout, and then Kate had started browsing in earnest. She’d started to drift toward a display stand at one point, and only barely registered that Michael had stiffened slightly before pulling her attention elsewhere.

They had been in the store for over an hour before making their way back outside, squinting in the daylight. Kate had looked at her watch. The day had gotten away from her, and it was only right then that she’d realized she’d felt more relaxed and satisfied than she had in a long time.

They’d both made their goodbyes with considerable reluctance.

“Maybe I’ll see you at the shop again sometime?”

“You can count on it,” he’d replied with a grave smile.

“And as a special treat, I promise to recognize you,” she had teased.

She smiled to herself, remembering his warmth, thinking about his smile. His eyes were always so serious, like he was trying to absorb everything around him all at once.

There was still more that she had to do today. She went into the bedroom to change into her yoga gear, and then flicked out her yoga mat onto the living room floor. She lit her aromatherapy oil burner and switched on some relaxing music. Soon she was taking deep, even breaths as she flowed from one pose into the next, feeling centered and strong. Her mood was as peaceful and satisfied as it had been when she’d heard Michael laugh.

~~~

Michael was still thinking about Kate’s smile when he arrived home. He’d taken a risk going into that particular bookstore with Kate, but it had all gone well. He’d managed to keep a lower profile than he’d thought, a fact which he made a mental note
not
to mention to Alistair. Editors didn’t like it when their favorite authors started to drop off the radar. They’d had a coffee together and somehow he had kept talking. Kate had entertained him with anecdotes from the store, and he’d told her about his parents. The words had been so easy, had felt so right.

He felt relaxed and at ease with the day. He walked into the expansive living room, but only switched on a few lamps, wanting to keep the lighting low and warm. He paused in the kitchen and poured himself a glass of wine, kicked off his shoes, and sprawled on the couch. Picking up the remote, he switched on the TV, gazing at it for a while before switching it off and opting for some music instead.

Michael sipped at his wine, then got up and wandered around the room. He felt a little restless now that he was alone. The music wasn’t quite satisfying him either. He gazed at his surroundings, and then saw his laptop. He stood staring at it for a while, sipping his wine, deep in thought.

Finally he walked toward it and switched it on, taking a seat as he waited for it to power up. His last document appeared on the screen. He sat thinking about his day, and then setting his glass aside, began to type.

~~~

Kate switched off the small lamp by the couch and set her book aside with a small yawn. After her yoga, she had hunted through her things, finally uncovering a small frame that was just right for the fox print. She’d combined the two and nodded at the happy result. She had fixed herself a small meal that she’d enjoyed with a glass of wine before settling down on the couch to immerse herself in a book. As always, the printed words had carried her away for the evening, and she had been a little surprised at the hour when she’d finally emerged from the pages.

She felt pleasantly warm from the wine and almost boneless from relaxation as she wandered out of the bathroom, wearing clean underwear and an old T-shirt of Paul’s that she had begged him for. She didn’t have many of Jack’s shirts left and was trying to make them last as long as she could by interspersing them with items filched from her big brother. Crawling into the bed, she checked her alarm and snuggled into her pillow, thinking of Michael as she drifted off to sleep.

~~~

It wasn’t until he yawned that Michael thought to check the time and was shocked to see that it was after midnight. He looked at the screen: he’d written a few thousand words. He’d done it; somehow he’d broken through the block. Tired as he was, there was no clear way of knowing if what he’d written was useable, but for the time being, he was surprised and pleased. He looked at the time again and realized he needed to get some sleep if he wanted to stop in and see Kate tomorrow. Or maybe that was too soon? He’d see how he felt about it in the morning.

Michael switched off the lamps and went into the bedroom, shucking off his jeans and throwing them over the back of a chair. He began to tug his shirt off over his head, pausing and sniffing at the shoulder. It was still there, incredibly faint, but he could detect it: Kate’s scent. He wouldn’t wash it just yet, and he smiled at his sentimentality.

He crawled into bed, tugging the sheets over his body as he settled down for the evening. He’d found words for her and she had unlocked words for him. No one else had been able to do that: not his editor, not his friends, and not his parents. Only Kate had been able to draw them out; somehow she had found the key to him, one that he hadn’t realized he had lost. Michael’s eyes fluttered closed and his breathing evened out. After a long time, his eyelashes flickered, and for the first time in months, Michael dreamed.

Chapter 7

Late Night Surprise

“Morning, boss.”

“Wren, don’t call me boss.”

“Sorry, boss.”

Kate unlocked the door and stood aside, whistling under her breath to the music on her iPod as she let Wren in ahead of her. Wren slung her bag into the kitchen closet and reappeared, flicking on the espresso machine and getting the chalkboard. Kate followed her, shucked off her bag and hung it on the hook beside Wren’s.

Wren propped the chalkboard up against the counter and stood watching Kate, tossing a piece of chalk from one hand to the other.

“So,” Wren ventured, “how was your day off?”

“Fabulous,” Kate replied, smiling to herself and tapping her fingers on the counter as she waited for the coffee machine to start up.

“Oh, really?” Wren wandered closer, folding her arms and leaning over the counter toward Kate. “And what did you do?”

For a split second, Kate considered telling Wren about her encounter with Michael and their subsequent afternoon. She had gone to bed thinking about him and had woken up feeling restless.
Those
kinds of dreams hadn’t happened to her for a long time. She decided to keep the day to herself. Telling Wren would mean the inevitable dissection, and then Wren would very lovingly try to manipulate the situation to what she considered was everyone’s best advantage.

Kate had found herself daydreaming on the way to work, thinking about the color of Michael’s eyes and his impressive height compared to her small frame. She remembered the sensation of colliding with his chest and the feeling of warmth that had rushed into her as he all but loomed over her, making sure she was all right.

Kate was later mortified that she hadn’t been able to recognize Michael at first glance. Given her usual work hours, it wasn’t often that she had the opportunity to see people out of context. She had apologized as fast as she could, but not before she had seen a flash of disappointment on his face. To her relief the conversation after that had flowed easily. At first she had kept up the usual jovial patter that she used in the store, but after a while, Michael’s quiet company had somehow managed to soothe and relax her. Gradually, her conversation had slowed, become a little less witty, a little more genuine.

She had always been tactile, but she had surprised herself when she had slipped her arm through his as they had meandered through the city in search of coffee. Even now she smiled at the sensory memory of the way the muscles in his arms had flexed and relaxed at her contact, and then the warmth of his arm seeping into hers. He had even smelled good. She was used to men’s aftershave, plenty of products certainly wafted in and out of the store all day, but she hadn’t been able to place which brand Michael used. He had smelled warm and musky, with an undertone that she still wasn’t able to place. And to think that earlier in the day she had been enjoying the sensation of time to herself. Michael had somehow managed to change that.

Wren waited and watched as Kate stared off into space with a slight smile, and then cleared her throat. Kate blinked and returned her attention to the present, looking at Wren who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“I went to the flea market and found a couple of great art pieces,” Kate replied. “They’re in my bag, so I’ll get them out once we’ve had our heart-starters.”

Wren watched Kate closely. Kate was looking very happy, but seemed to be trying to hide it. Given Kate was generally an open book, this was enough to give Wren pause. “Mm-hmm, and what else did you get up to?”

“Well, I wore a
dress
,” Kate went on, rolling her eyes as Wren feigned a shocked response of her own.

“You did?” Wren replied, clapping her hands to her cheeks. “Which one?”

“Remember the yellow and white halter-neck one you made for me?”

“Rowr.” Wren nodded with approval. “And I bet you looked great. Did you pick up anyone?”

“Uh,” Kate stalled for a moment. “Nope, but I had a great day. The sun was shining, I saw some great things, bought myself some presents.” She picked up two cups. “Mocha for you?”

“Yeah,” Wren replied. “Grande, thanks.” Sometimes she forgot that Kate only gave herself one day off a month, and she obviously cherished her free time. Wren gave a mental shrug, perhaps her radar had been off after all.

“How about you?” Kate said as she wiped down the spigot and passed Wren her mocha. “What did you get up to, or should I say, who?”

“You know me too well,” Wren replied, toasting Kate with her cup before taking a sip. She gave it some thought, and then wrinkled her nose at Kate. “He was cute enough, but nothing serious.”

“Right, but did you have a good time?” Kate called as she ducked into the kitchen to turn on the industrial oven for pre-warming.

“Yeah, we did,” Wren conceded. “He was nice but young and forgettable.” Wren sipped her mocha again as she turned the piece of chalk over and over in her fingers, then gave Kate a smug smile. “But I’m pretty sure he’ll remember
me
for a while.”

“That good?”

“Oh, I was
very
good. I think the next woman he’s with will offer some thanks up to my tutoring skills.”

Wren put down her cup and wrote on the chalkboard. When she was finished she held it up to show Kate who laughed and gave her a thumbs-up. Wren carried the chalkboard outside and hung it carefully on the hooks, grinning to herself as she went back inside.

Emily arrived a few minutes later and stopped to read the chalkboard before entering the store, laughing and shaking her head. “Good weekend?” she asked as she put her things away.

“Very satisfying,” Wren replied with a smile. Sewing and creating always made her feel good, sometimes she had to admit, albeit very quietly, that it was even better than sex.

“Where’s Kate?” Emily asked, then paused as she heard the mixer start up. “Never mind.” She glanced at Wren. “Has she told you what today’s cake is?”

Wren shrugged. “Nope, but when she saw the quote for the day she said she had an idea, then just got straight to work. We’ll find out soon enough.”

“Guess that’s why she’s the boss,” Emily agreed.

“So how was your weekend?” Wren asked as she began to fill the water jugs.

Emily paused as she picked up a tray of bagels that she would be turning into the daily lunch specials. “It was good.” She considered, then looked at Wren and blushed.

“Look at you! What’s his name?” Wren dropped a slice of lemon into one of the jugs with a plop and turned to give Emily her full attention.

Emily heaved the tray onto the island behind the main counter and opened the refrigerator built in underneath, so her reply was muffled as she took out some ingredients.

“Sorry?” Wren called. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I don’t know what his name is; I just think he’s cute. He works at a bookstore,” Emily confessed. “And he seems really nice.” She gave a small shrug. “I bought something and we just got to talking.”

“Nice,” mused Wren. “It’s a good start. Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?”

“I don’t think so. He asked if I had a boyfriend so maybe he’s available too,” she said in tones of quiet hope.

“Well then, what are we going to do about that?” Wren paused and pointed her paring knife at Emily for emphasis as she spoke. “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. We’re going to find out who he is, and then make sure he falls madly in love with you.”

Checking the oven, Kate smiled to herself as she listened in on the girls’ conversation. Thank God for Emily. The heat would be off her for a while, and she was all the more thankful that she hadn’t told Wren about Michael. The Pocket Rocket would have gone into paroxysms of joy at the prospect of having not one, but
two,
friends’ love lives to oversee.

“Wow,” Emily commented. “You make it sound so easy.”

“What can I say? I’ve got plenty of experience.” She looked up at Emily and gave her an urchin grin. “Mind you, it’s generally of the short term variety.”

Both the women laughed, and then got back to work.

In the kitchen, Kate paused and considered Wren’s glib comeback. She didn’t judge Wren for what Tom called the “love ’em and leave ’em” approach, but she hadn’t failed to see the flash of vulnerability on Wren’s face when she had dismissed her Saturday evening encounter. Wren needed more but wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

A while later, Kate delivered the daily cupcake special along with an array of the usual butter cake and vanilla frosted ones that had always been Jack’s favorite. They were all frosted in different colors with different sprinkles, making the display cabinet look lush and inviting.

“Ohhh, I’d better have one of
those
with lunch today.” Emily sighed. “What are they?”

Kate set the tray down and adjusted a few cupcakes so they could be displayed to their best advantage.

“I’ve made these in honor of our Pocket Rocket,” Kate replied, speaking in a voice loud enough to carry to Wren who had been collecting cups from a table at the front of the store.

“Wait! Wait! I’ll get the chalk!” Wren hurried forward, setting down her cups with a clatter and picking up the little chalkboard that sat on an easel on top of the counter. “Okay. Ready. Fire away.”

“That’s what she said,” Kate replied, laughing as Wren gave her a look of amused exasperation. “In honor of our dear Wren …” She inclined her head toward Wren who gave a gracious nod of acknowledgment in return. “I give you
Sugar Mama Cupcakes,
a caramel cupcake topped with white creamy frosting and sprinkled with shattered caramel toffee
.
”

“I think I just gained two pounds,” replied Emily in a mournful tone although her expression was still covetous.

Wren finished writing and propped up the chalkboard, then nodded approval to Kate.

“Nice one,” she said.

“Thanks,” answered Kate. “I’m pretty pleased with them myself.”

“Not as pleased as I was on Saturday night when he—” Wren began, whooping with laughter as Kate and Emily both gave an affected squeal of dismay and clapped their hands over their ears.

~~~

Michael woke up feeling more refreshed than he had in a long time. His dream still clung to him, following him into the bathroom, back into the kitchen, whispering to him as he plugged in his espresso machine and gave a massive yawn. He headed back toward the bathroom, stripping off and standing under the hot shower spray for a long time, gazing sightlessly at the tiles as his dream played in his mind’s eye once more.

He had been in a maze of white walls, stumbling along and feeling his way by touch, squinting against the bright light. He hadn’t known where he was, but he knew there was something or someone waiting for him at the center. He ran his hands over the seemingly endless white walls, losing his way and coming up against dead ends countless times. Finally, he saw a speck of color on one of the walls and had run toward it. A word: laughter. He knew what he was looking for now.

Michael had kept searching, darting forward whenever he saw a word scribbled against the white. First there had only been the one word, then two, then five. Then he saw a steady stream, unraveling and coiling around the walls of the maze, guiding him on.

He ran on, trailing his hand along the wall’s surface, his fingers brushing over the words that dipped and swirled, guiding him ever onwards. After what had felt like an eternity of searching, he rounded a corner and stopped short. The corridor of the maze had opened into a small room, three white walls, and the fourth … the fourth was the shop front of Kate’s store. He stood gaping at it, looking down to see the words had slithered off the walls and were pooling around his feet, swirling with an invisible current, eddying toward the store. He took an uncertain step forward.

The door opened, and Kate stepped out. She was wearing the sundress she had worn at the market. Her hair was still down, and her smile was a beacon of warmth against the white surroundings. The words surged and crested against Kate’s feet, making her look down and laugh as they swirled into the store. She had held the door open and extended a hand toward him in invitation.

It didn’t take a genius to interpret that dream; it seemed even his subconscious realized that Kate restored his words. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stood brushing his teeth, deep in thought at the bathroom basin. His head jerked when he heard the phone ring, and he spat and rinsed before padding into the room to snatch up the handset.

“Hello,” he offered in a soft growl.

“Michael,” said a voice in a very careful tone.

“Alistair,” he acknowledged. “How are you?”

“I’m …” Alistair hesitated. “I’m well. Did you have a good weekend?”

“Thank you, I did,” Michael replied, and then paused. He wasn’t a talkative man by nature at the best of times, but for some reason of late, Alistair brought out the worst in him.

“Dare I ask?”

“Yes, Alistair,” Michael said in a quiet voice. “I’ve been working.”

There was a slight pause, and Michael pictured Alistair leaning forward in his chair, eyes bright with curiosity.

“And?”

Michael shrugged even though he knew Alistair couldn’t see the gesture. “It might be something,” he allowed, “but then again, it might be nothing at all.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Alistair rushed in. “The fact that you’re writing again is all that’s important.”

“I’m not going to meet deadline,” Michael cautioned. His contract was for a number of publications within a certain timeframe, and this time he was falling well past the mark.

“That’s not for you to worry about,” Alistair said in a reassuring tone. “Leave that to me. I won’t let anyone bother you.”

“Thanks,” Michael replied, surprised to discover that he appreciated this source of unexpected support.

“Anytime, Michael. Look, I know that I’m a pain in the ass, but that’s what they pay me for,” Alistair went on. “I’m here to help. Just try to remember that next time you want to kill me.”

“I’ll try,” Michael replied in a dry tone. “But I’m not promising anything.”