Cupcake Couture (42 page)

‘Are those cakes?’ I heard Ant say to Dec (or was it Dec saying it to Ant?) as I passed by their table.

They stood and walked forwards behind me, along with the rest of the guests who were surging trance-like towards my cupcake Christmas tree.

‘The decorations are all cupcakes,’ said another voice.

‘Not just any old cupcakes, though, look at them, they’re works of art.’

I felt a smile travelling from one ear to the other and a surge of pride running up from my heels to the squashed fake flower decorating my chest. I recognised the buzz running through my veins as self-esteem, a feeling that had escaped me of late. My pulse quickened.

The cupcakes did look beautiful displayed on the giant cake-stand. Then again I was biased when it came to pretty little, sumptuous, colourful cupcakes; I always thought they looked too good to eat. Almost.

Some of the cakes had swirls of pink or purple buttercream, others were topped with vanilla or chocolate. The swirls, like everything else in the design, were oversized and gluttonous, winding up into tall peaks like Mr Whippy ice cream cones. I had decorated these with glass-like sugar balls made to look like strings of fairy lights and diamond-like sprinkles. Some had pink feathers sticking out of the top, while others had bows made from sugar laces to make them resemble presents to be unwrapped. Other cupcakes I had decorated with fondant icing in purple, pink, white and black to represent the 3D Events pink, purple and black logo and the black and white city colours of Newcastle. Inspired by the flea market football cupcakes, I had crafted the fondant into characters and people. In anticipation of who might be on the guest list, I had made Gary Lineker, an Ant, a Dec, Thierry and even a tiny Cheryl Cole, who would probably be enjoyed by her lookalike if one of the men did not snap her up first.

‘There’s us!’ said Ant, or it could have been Dec.

‘I’m going to eat you,’ replied Dec (or was it Ant?)

I had also made cakes topped with shiny silver coins.

‘These are better than real money,’ I heard one local businessman say whom I recognised from a tearful episode of
The Secret Millionaire
.

‘Just as well for you,’ said his friend with a deep belly laugh, ‘you’ve given all yours away!’

The whole design had been inspired by my research of 3D Events on Google and the images of their over-the-top, dynamic party themes and their company colours, as well as Zachary’s self-confessed love of lights and sparkle. I could tell from the moment I met him that Malachy had indeed been the sparkle catalyst, like a pushing-six-foot male Tinkerbell. He wasn’t a queen but he had a twinkle in his eye and a love of extravagance. When he took hold of a party, he waved his imaginary wand, let loose with his exuberant personality and transported the guests to a world of pure escapism. Zachary provided the solid grounding, the direction (and the funds apparently) while Hurley made things happen like the engine of the machine.

I had been so exhausted by the end of the process of making cakes and designing the final piece and so intent on re-building the sculpture before the guests arrived that I had stopped seeing it clearly anymore. I had never expected such a reaction.

My ears filled with oohs, aahs and compliments as I walked up to my first real cake sculpture. Were they just being kind? They seemed genuine enough. Were they all just inebriated? Some were, admittedly, but it had been too classy an affair for drunken brawls and vomiting in the vases. I stopped when I reached my cupcakes to take a breath. The wall behind had been covered with reflective black screens, displaying professionally designed posters. Two graphite tables stood either side of
the tree, upon which were stacks of glossy business cards fanned out in symmetrical semi-circles. The whole space was lit with giant candles. None of these features had been my doing. Clearly, while I had been in the garden fretting about the reasons for Zachary covering the cakes with screens, the 3D Events people had been at work adding these professional touches to the design. I reached out and picked up a business card. My hand flew to my mouth.

‘I took a liberty with your company name,’ said an unmistakeable voice, ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

I felt his breath very close to my ear and my pulse began to race, pumping blood to my heart, my head and apparently my ears. My head span and my mouth felt dry. I wished I hadn’t drunk all that champagne. I clutched the business card, turned and lifted my face to look up at the deliciously handsome Zachary Doyle.

‘Congratulations, Chloe,’ he said with a smile. ‘Heidi said you would be really embarrassed by all the attention but I couldn’t help myself. We like to celebrate the good things in our family.’

I blinked. So that was what Heidi had meant. Crowds closed in around us to get closer to the cupcake tree.

‘You made business cards for me?’ I said eventually when I mustered enough saliva to be able to speak.

‘And posters.’ He gestured towards the screens behind the cakes, then leaned closer and touched my elbow. ‘Although to be honest I just came up with the name and then I passed the technical stuff on to Hurley. He’s a whizz with all that. You’ve got a website too.’

‘A website?’

‘Yes, just a temporary one until you get yourself up and running but I think you’ll like it.’

I rubbed my forehead, which felt hot and sticky. The air around me was thinning by the second.

‘I don’t understand. Why would you do all this for me? Why do I need a website?’

‘Look, Chloe.’ He took my elbow and turned me to look at the celebrities swarming around my cupcake installation like bees around a honey pot. ‘This is what you were meant to do. This is your talent. Don’t fight it.’

‘But…’

I looked again at the celebrities almost fighting each other for a closer look.

‘Have they never seen cupcakes before?’ I said with a bemused laugh.

‘They’ve never seen your cupcakes before,’ Zachary whispered so close to my ear it made my spine shiver, ‘you’ve been too selfish keeping them locked up in that head of yours. It looks like it might be time to share.’

‘The same way you shared with me what sort of parties you throw hmm? What was it you said? Conferences, birthdays, charity nights, that sort of thing?’

He blushed and flicked his hair.

‘I didn’t lie, this is a charity night.’

‘A very glitzy, very “glamorous”’ – I made quotes in the air – ‘charity night.’

‘Yes well, I didn’t want to scare you away from your first assignment. First of many by the looks of it.’

I took a deep breath and allowed myself to dream for a moment. Could I really make a living out of designing cakes? Especially in the current financial climate. I fiddled with the shiny, stiff business card. It would be a dream come true but over the
years I had grown up and realised that dreams usually stayed just that; dreams. However, I had to admit, when I was around this man it felt as if he could click his fingers and turn dreams into reality. He had done it for his brothers and now he was doing it for me.

He was
doing it
for me in more ways than one.

I looked up at him, at his bright eyes that rivalled the fairy lights for sparkle, at his lips like soft fudge, at his smooth cheeks, his broad chest in his stylish Tuxedo, every inch of him the successful but modest and kind businessman. I had a sudden urge to grab him and kiss him. It was not the first time, but it was definitely the most intense. As was the entire situation; intense and overwhelming. I wobbled on my heels.

‘Are you OK, Chloe?’

‘Yes,’ I nodded, ‘I’m just shocked and little bit hot.’

‘I’ll get you some water.’

Zachary was about to move away and probably get one of his ‘people’ to fetch me water when a man with a camera and a lens as long as an elephant’s trunk bounced in between us.

‘Can I get a photo please, Mr Doyle?’

‘Sure, sure, is that OK, Chloe?’

I nodded at Zachary. We turned to face the camera and I felt his arm slide around my shoulders. I glanced at his hand and the camera flashed. The camera kept flashing while more and more people joined the scene. Celebrities pushed their way to the front, some keen to increase their fifteen minutes of fame. Others stood coyly to one side, while Malachy bounced around excitedly in the centre. Roxy and Thierry
squeezed in beside Zachary and I, with Heidi and Hurley at the other side. Roxy swiftly removed the cigarette that I had forgotten was behind my ear.

‘Nice line-up,’ Roxy said with a wink in between photos, ‘me and Thierry, Heidi and fucking Heidi mark II the male version over there and you and
Zah-
cary.’

I nudged her.

‘Shush, he’ll hear you.’

‘Are you gonna shag him then?’

‘No.’

‘Howay, why not? He definitely wants to shag you.’

‘He does not.’

‘Aye he does, it’s obvious from the way he looks at you, man’ – she rolled her eyes exaggeratedly – ‘and why else would he have done all this?’

‘Business,’ I hissed. ‘He’s in the business of making money and all this is good for his business.’ I glanced up at him to check he couldn’t hear me but there was such a racket in the room, I felt sure he couldn’t. ‘And I don’t mix business with pleasure.’

‘Don’t be a twat, Chloe man, make business your pleasure and pleasure your business. Worked for me.’

I nudged her in the ribs. She laughed and rubbed her side.

‘Ouch, mind the baby.’

‘I’m sure I’ll be minding it many a night while you’re out having pleasure time,’ I smirked.

We posed for endless photographs and when the photographer had finally filled his memory card, Malachy clapped his hands and called out – ‘Let them eat cake.’

There was a cheer and the guests descended on my cupcake tree like crazed shoppers at the Harrods’ sale.

‘You don’t mind do you, Chloe?’ he said.

‘No,’ I grinned, ‘they’re there to be eaten.’

I steeled myself to be courageous and opened my mouth to say more when Zachary’s female companion with the cannonball boobs barged in between us and thrust a pink buttercream cupcake towards his lips. He stumbled backwards away from me. She giggled like a hyena and pressed the cake into his mouth then groaned as if she had just orgasmed.

‘These are almost as sweet as you, Zac,’ she trilled.

I grimaced and felt my head spin again. Fortunately, Heidi was right beside me. She clutched my arm.

‘Are you feeling alright?’

‘Yes,’ I sighed, ‘just a bit overwhelmed I suppose.’

I glanced over at Zachary who was still being fed cupcake by the enthusiastic redhead.

‘It’s beautiful, pet,’ Heidi gushed, ‘I’m so proud of you.’

‘Thank you, Heidi and thank you for being such a good friend to me. I don’t feel I’ve been the same to you lately, I’ve been so caught up in feeling sorry for myself since my redundancy.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ she laughed, ‘you and Roxy are the best friends a girl could have.’

She smiled and glanced over her shoulder.

‘And to top it all off, I think I might have the best fiancé a girl could wish for too.’ She paused. ‘Do you think I’ve found the same thing my mam and dad have got, Chloe?’

‘No.’

Her face fell.

‘I think you’ve found something entirely unique, just for you and possibly even better.’

Heidi burst into happy tears and hugged me tightly.

‘What a night hey?’ she laughed.

‘Yes,’ I said, feeling the energy drain out of me as if I had just emerged from my last A-Level, ‘you could say that.’

‘Have you seen Antondec are here?’

‘It’s Ant
and
Dec, Heidi, they’re two different people.’

‘Aye,’ she nodded distractedly, ‘ooh I forgot, there’s something I have to tell you about Zachary…’ she began but a tap on my shoulder interrupted the conversation.

I spun around to see the Cheryl Cole lookalike standing inches from me with a cupcake clutched in her tiny hands. Only it wasn’t a Cheryl Cole lookalike, it was Cheryl Cole, the popstar, the fashion guru, the television star, the new peoples’ Princess and the veritable Queen of the North East. She wore a white mini dress made out of hundreds of silk butterflies and beads that was so delicate it looked like it might dissipate like dust if I sneezed. The dress was strapless, giving the effect that the butterflies were real and had been trained to sit on Miss Cole’s luminescent skin in all the right places. Her shoes were silver to match her eyeshadow, which glistened behind thick, black lashes surrounding her chocolate brown eyes. She was, I guessed,
about the same height as me but she was so doll-like, as Roxy was, that I felt like a clumsy ogre in her presence. She smiled and wiped a dollop of buttercream from her glossy pink lips.

‘Hiya, pet, you must be Chloe,’ she said, her accent unmistakeably Geordie.

I accepted her hand and shook it while taking care not to squeeze her bird-like bones too hard.

‘Yes, pleased to meet you.’

‘You too, I’m Cheryl.’

I know
.

‘Look, pet,’ she carried on, ‘I don’t want to crowd you when this is your moment but I’ve got a real weakness for cupcakes and wow, these are the most amazing ones I’ve ever seen.’ She turned the cake around to show me where it had been nibbled as if by a mouse. ‘And the best thing is, they taste totally lush. So, I was wondering if I could get your card and give you a call about making me some, if that’s OK like?’

I blinked at Cheryl and opened and closed my mouth. Her flashy white smile made my tired eyes flicker but I noticed the crowd around us turning to eavesdrop and edging closer.

‘Is that OK?’ Cheryl said again.

‘My card? Of course.’ I kicked myself into action and clasped the glossy, new card between my fingers like one would a penny before throwing it in a wishing well. ‘Here you go. Give me a call and I’ll be happy to make you some cupcakes, Cheryl.’

I saw Roxy spin around and her jaw drop open when I said the words. Zachary winked at me. The crowd drew closer.

Cheryl Cole bowed her head of beautifully shiny hair, peered at the card and said with a smile – ‘
Cupcake Couture
, what a lush name. Two of my favourite things rolled into one.’