The Icing on the Cake (20 page)

“Come on.” Isaac chuckled as he led me back into the shop. He grabbed a cellophane bag and began scooping generous scoops of the gummy bears into the bag. With each scoop my smile grew wider.

“That’s enough,” I said finally. “But I’m getting these.” I practically raced Isaac to the counter, frantically unzipping my handbag to retrieve my wallet.

“Nope,” Isaac protested, smacking a twenty dollar bill that seemed to appear out of nowhere onto the counter. “Dinner is on me. The milk chocolate on these should cover the protein group.” Isaac pointed toward the chocolate on the gummy bears.

What a horrible dinner we were eating. A delicious, wonderful, horrible dinner.

With my gargantuan bag of gummy bears in hand, I alternated between taking bites of the gooey caramel apple and the chewy bears as Isaac and I walked out of the building and onto the sidewalk.

“Thank you so much for everything,” I said after swallowing the first delicious bite of my apple.

“You’re welcome,” Isaac replied.

I popped a gummy bear into my mouth. “Do you want one?”

“No, thanks. Those are for you.”

“Wanna walk up the hill?” I asked. “It’s a great view from up there. And I should probably be heading back up to the gallery anyway.”

“Sure,” Isaac replied. “But I have to tell you, I really don’t want to say good-bye.” We crossed the street and began heading up the hill away from Cannery Row. “When can I see you again?” Isaac asked me.

“Anytime,” I replied.

Isaac stopped abruptly on the sidewalk. “Do you really mean ‘anytime’? Because I’ll take you up on that. I can’t seem to get enough of you, Annabelle.”

Thank goodness we weren’t walking anymore because that comment made me momentarily unable to move. “Yes, I mean anytime,” I assured Isaac in a soft voice.

“Then I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Isaac and I resumed walking, and Isaac took the last bite out of his caramel apple. He then tossed the core and stick into a nearby trash receptacle. Trying to finish my apple as well, I took a very large bite out of it. An unladylike amount of juice from the apple dribbled onto my chin. I wiped at it with a napkin I had grabbed on the way out of the candy shop.

“These aren’t exactly the most glamorous things in the world to eat,” I said, feeling myself get flushed with embarrassment.

Isaac looked at me tenderly. “Glamorous or not, you’re adorable.”

In a nervous reaction to Isaac’s comment, I raised the apple to my mouth to take another bite. But Isaac’s hand covered mine and stopped me in mid motion. He looked intently into my eyes. “I really want to kiss you,” he said.

“I would like that,” I said breathlessly.

Isaac tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Then he gently took my face in his hands. His hands smelled sweet, like candy apples. Slowly, he moved his face in toward mine. I closed my eyes, eagerly awaiting his kiss.

“Annabelle?”

“Yes, Isaac,” I whispered.

Wait a minute? That voice was coming from too far away to be Isaac. And it sounded an awful lot like . . .

“Patrique!” I exclaimed, my eyes shooting open. I spun around and saw Patrique standing behind me. “Why . . . um . . . why aren’t you at the gallery?”

Patrique held up a pack of antacids to let them answer the question for him.

“Oh,” I said flatly.

Patrique folded his arms across his chest. “So I guess you must have gotten lost while looking for my Rolaids.” He waved the antacids in the air.

I don’t know why, but I almost started laughing. I mean, read Patrique’s sentence again and tell me it isn’t hilarious.

“I was so hungry, Patrique,” I explained, holding back my laughter. “I was ready to start eating the fermented fruit off one of the sculptures at the gallery.”

“Yes, well, it looks like you have your food.” Patrique’s eyes surveyed my nearly finished caramel apple. “Who is this?” Patrique asked, looking at Isaac. “Besides someone who can’t buy a lovely lady decent food.”

I glared at Patrique. If it hadn’t been so important for me to be nice to him, I just might have smacked him.

“Isaac Matthews.” Isaac introduced himself, a slightly pinched look coming onto his face. Then he turned to me. “I should probably get going, Annabelle.”

“Okay,” I said softly. “Call me?”

“I will,” Isaac said. Then he gave a halfhearted wave to Patrique. “Good to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Patrique grunted.

I watched Isaac walk into the distance. He was so incredibly handsome. Then I turned to Patrique. I studied his sliminess and the package of Rolaids in his hand.

Just one more day,
I told myself.
Just one more day and then this whole nightmare will be over, and on Monday I will get my interview.

“So what is Isaac?” Patrique asked. We were back inside the gallery and I noticed that Tempest was watching us from across the room.

“He’s a photographer,” I said.

“No, I didn’t ask what he does. I asked what he is.”

“I don’t know, English, maybe part Irish.”

“No,” Patrique said, sounding impatient. “I mean what is he to you?”

“Oh.” I pondered the question for a moment. “I guess we’re dating,” I replied. The words made me feel quite giddy.

“How nice for you,” Patrique said with a false smile.

Not wanting to talk to Patrique anymore, I took out my cell phone to play a little Skydiver. It was then that I noticed that the time was 9:05. “It’s after nine!” I exclaimed. “We were supposed to get the catering van back by nine. We’re late!”

“I can’t leave now,” Patrique said.

“But—”

“You can take the van,” Patrique said with an edge in his voice. “I’ll find a way home.” Then suddenly he softened. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m showing my art at the Festival of Local Art at the fairgrounds. Meet me at the main fairgrounds entrance at one thirty.”

One more day
, I repeated in my mind,
just one more day
.

“Fine,” I agreed stiffly. “See ya.”

I quickly made my way to the door. But before I could make a clean break, I was stopped by Tempest.

“Annalynn is it?” she asked.

“Annabelle,” I said. I hated correcting people. I would much rather let it slide. I didn’t much care what people called me. Unless it was a food name, like Apple or something; that’s just too far for me.

“Annabelle,” Tempest began, sounding serious. “I need to warn you about Patrique.”

“Warn me?” I asked, without emotion. I knew better than to put much stock into anything an ex-girlfriend has to say about a guy.

“Yes. Patrique gets what he wants from his women.”

I stifled a laugh. “Oh, I am not one of Patrique’s—”

“If he doesn’t get what he wants he will try to sabotage you,” Tempest interrupted in a sinister voice.

“But you don’t understand, our relationship is simply work—”

“He does it subtly,” Tempest said. “I had just begun a new painting when we broke up. After things were over between us, I moved out here to Monterey and starting dating someone else. When Patrique found out, he stole the subject of my painting for a painting of his own. And now he’s moved here, I think to steal my clientele.”

I looked toward the exit. “Okay, thanks for the tip,” I said quickly.

“Fine,” Tempest huffed. “If you don’t want to listen to me, you’ll just have to learn the hard way.”

“Okay, bye,” I said, dashing to the door.

But honestly, looking back, I really should have paid a little more attention to what Tempest was telling me.

T
hursday morning, I walked into the cardio room at the gym and decided to do a little stair stepping. I had no idea why I wasn’t conserving all of my energy for my trip to the Festival of Local Art; I knew I was going to need it.

I wrapped my cell phone in a towel and set it on the floor next to the machine. Isaac had said he would call, so I was not letting my phone out of sight.

As I worked out on the machine, my mind went back to the scene on the sidewalk near Cannery Row. The one where Isaac had almost kissed me. The very thought made me feel like I was going to explode with eagerness. Why didn’t anything ever come easily to me? I couldn’t even seem to manage a first kiss.

I was in the middle of mentally imagining what it would feel like to kiss Isaac when I noticed a woman looking at me. I don’t think I even have to tell you. It was Rona Bircheck. Rona Bircheck in all of her non-engaged glory.

Does she live at the gym or something?
I wondered. And from the looks of her toned physique, I guessed I wasn’t too far off.

Rona came to my side and stood there, staring at me.

“Uh, hi, Rona,” I said. I ceased stepping but remained high on the machine, and thus, a good two feet above Rona. “I meant to call you,” I said. I had received a voicemail from Rona the night before, in which she asked me about the catering for Carrie’s shower, but I hadn’t exactly returned her call.

Rona remained motionless and wordless.

“About the caterer . . . um . . .” I paused. I should just come clean. I should just tell her that I was living and breathing my impossible article and that I just hadn’t been able to get too far in my search for a caterer. I should just tell her that at this point I was leaning toward going with my original idea of fruit and veggie trays and Costco rolls. But instead I continued to stammer. “I’ve been . . . thinking . . .”

Rona cut me off. “Look, Annabelle, I thought I could count on you. But the party is in two weeks, and I’m beginning to think I should just relieve you of the responsibility.”

Oh, no you don’t. You already stole the party from me. You will not take the caterer.
“I have it under control,” I said.

Just then I heard the beautiful sound of my cell phone. “Excuse me,” I said to Rona. I stepped down to retrieve the phone from its towel wrap. I was kind of hoping she would leave.

“Hello,” I said into the phone.

“Hi, cute girl,” I heard Isaac say.

Cute girl
, I repeated in my mind. The words made me feel wonderfully dizzy. I immediately wondered if Rona had heard them. I glanced at her, but it didn’t look like she had. Too bad.

“Hi,” I said into the phone, my voice sweet.

“What are you up to?” Isaac asked.

“I’m at the gym.” I noticed that Rona had hopped onto the stair-stepper that was next to me and was stepping vigorously. “How about you?”

I glared at Rona out of the corner of my eye. If she hadn’t been there, I just might have used my most flirtatious voice and asked, “When will I see you again, so we can finish what we started last night?” But since she was there, I was stuck with, “How about you?”

“I’m helping Ethan put together the programs for the recital tomorrow. Are you going to come?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” I answered, wondering how inappropriate it would be if our first kiss was in front of a room of recital-goers.

“Could you hang on for just a second, Annabelle?” Isaac asked. “I think Ethan is one key stroke away from Adobe Photoshop implosion.” I could hear Ethan yelling in the background on Isaac’s end of the line.

I laughed. “Sure.”

“Is that Isaac?” I heard Rona ask.

I nodded, a stony look on my face.

“I need to talk to him,” Rona said as she stopped stepping on her machine.

Was she serious? She wanted me to hand over the phone so she could place it against her not-one-hair-out-of-place head and talk to Isaac, the guy who—I think—likes me?

“Annabelle, can I talk to him?” Rona repeated, reaching for the phone.

I held up a finger. “Just a sec.” I waited for Isaac to get back on the line.

Finally Isaac’s deliciously deep voice returned. “Sorry about that, Annabelle.”

“No problem.” I turned my eyes toward Rona who was still waiting for me to hand over my cell. “Um, Isaac, Rona wants to talk to you,” I said, gritting my teeth.

Rona smiled widely as I handed her the phone.

“Hey, Isaac,” Rona cooed. “We’re still meeting at two o’clock, right?”

I strained to hear Isaac’s response to the question. But I heard nothing. I kicked myself for not turning up the volume on the phone before handing it over to Rona.

I tried to make sense of the conversation from what I was hearing from Rona. “Okay, I’ll show you.” Pause. Giggling. “Oh, that would be so great.” More giggling. “I can’t wait.” Pause. “Okay, I’ll see you then. Just inside the entrance of the grounds.” Giggles. Pause.

It’s for work,
I tried to convince myself.
They’re meeting for work.

“Okay, bye. I’m handing you back to Annabelle.” Rona handed the phone back to me. “Thanks,” she said, her smile sickeningly bright. “I tried to get a hold of him last night, but I couldn’t reach him.”