Take the Cake (3 page)

~~~

Michael kept walking. He paused at a travel agency, looking at the posters and prices, for a moment entertaining the thought of getting out, getting anywhere, getting all the way far, far away. Going someplace where nobody knew what he did, what he used to do, what he was supposed to be doing. He sighed and walked on.

It was early afternoon before he paused at the intersection, waiting for the light to change, and actually took a good look around to get his bearings. He slid his sunglasses down his nose and squinted around at the buildings. Where the hell was he? He knew he was in the Village again, but he must have gotten turned around somehow; his sense of direction felt skewed. Peering ahead, he recognized the red canopy flapping in the breeze, halfway down the next block.

The bakery—he knew where he was now. He walked along the block, and then stood on the other side of the street, staring at the shop front; he wasn’t sure what he was doing. He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced up the street. It was just a bakery, no big deal, so why did he feel like it was? He looked at the chalkboard hanging up out in front of the store, sporting a new quote for the day. At least someone was able to write. He crossed the street for a better look.

The road to hell is closed for repaving.

He grinned and his feet made the decision for him as he stepped inside.

~~~

Kate walked out of the kitchen with her bagel on a plate, eyeing it with trepidation. “Wren, do you think you made this one big enough?”

“Relax, boss. I made them for us at home this morning.”

“Maybe, but it’s the size of a Volkswagen!”

“You work very hard, so you need a good lunch,” said Wren with a placid smile. “Now go sit, and I’ll bring you a coffee.”

Kate nodded and went to find somewhere to sit; she knew better than to argue with Wren.

Michael stood in the doorway of the café, his eyes darting toward the counter. There were two women standing behind the coffee machine, one in the process of teaching the other how it all worked. They were deep in conversation but looked up with ready smiles at his approach. He studied their features but neither was the woman that he had spoken to a few days before, and he was surprised to feel a stab of disappointment.

“Hi there, what can I get for you?” Wren watched him with quiet appreciation. There was something different about him. His eyes were hazel with a generous abundance of eyelashes that women paid a fortune for in mascara to achieve, but despite his striking looks he moved with a kind of shy caution.

“Just a coffee,” Michael ventured.

“No problem.” She smiled. “You go take a seat and we’ll be right with you.”

He took his change and nodded his thanks before turning around to look for a table. That’s when he saw her, sitting at a small bistro table by herself with what appeared to be a late lunch in front of her. She was leaning back in her chair slightly as she gave an unselfconscious, cat-like stretch before returning to her lunch. She chewed with obvious enjoyment and gave a thumbs-up to the women behind the counter. He hesitated as he looked around the café as he tried to find an unoccupied table.

“You can sit here if you like.”

He turned to see the woman, Kate—he remembered her name now—push out a spare chair at her table with her foot. She raised a hand to her face to cover her mouth as she finished chewing and spoke again.

“I won’t be here long, and then I’ll be getting back to work,” she explained, jerking her thumb toward the kitchen.

Michael stood hesitating, shifting his weight has he tried to decide what to do. She was looking at him, waiting for him to say something. He was going to have to find some words.

“I don’t want to impose,” he began, and she shook her head in denial.

“Sit,” she invited again.

He sat down, licked his lips, and tried to think of something to say.

She regarded him over the top of her bagel as she took another bite. He noticed that her eyes crinkled at the edges. Her smile was warm and sincere, and her eyes were framed with expressive eyebrows, one of which was beginning to arch in inquiry.

He was staring. He cleared his throat and gave a start of relief when one of the women silently appeared at his elbow to slide his coffee cup onto the table. He clutched at the saucer, relieved to have something to do with his hands. After keeping to himself for so long, he was feeling the heat of her regard to be somewhat disconcerting.

He wished he could think of something to say.

She glanced down at her plate and appeared to make a decision. Dabbing at her mouth with her napkin, she dusted off her hands, and then stood up and slid the half bagel toward him. He looked at the plate and then up at her in surprise. She smiled and touched his shoulder in passing as she headed back toward the kitchen. He stared after her in astonishment. A moment later she reappeared and set down a plate holding a cupcake. This time when he looked up, she winked and went back to the kitchen.

He hadn’t known where he was walking today. Words had hounded him out of his apartment, shooed him out of the bookstore, and herded him along the street until he had ended up here. He considered the bagel for a moment, feeling nourished before he even began, and then took a bite.

Michael paused between mouthfuls to take a sip of his coffee, glancing around the store as he marveled at where he had ended up. He was in a bakery with words outside that made him smile, and a woman inside with warm, crinkly eyes and a soothing presence. He’d found someone who didn’t pester him for words. Her laughter sounded from the kitchen in response to a comment from her colleague, and he felt his lips moving into a smile at the sound. He liked it here. He’d have to come back. With any luck he’d think of something to say; perhaps he could find some words for her.

Chapter 3

Knights and Queens

Kate peered at her alarm clock as she switched off the incessant buzzing, and then buried her face back into her pillow with a low groan. The noise woke up the man sleeping beside her, and he squinted at the back of her head for a moment before rolling onto his side and snuggling up beside her, hooking one of his tanned, muscled legs over her hips for good measure.

“Can’t we stay in bed?” he mumbled.

“Gotta work,” Kate rasped back. She needed water.

“You’re the boss. Can’t you call in sick?” came the reply, then he ran his hand suggestively over her rump. “I’ll make pancakes …”

Kate lay there for a moment considering the suggestion, which certainly had merits. Still, the bakery wasn’t going to run itself; Wren was good at everything else she did, but she wasn’t “cupcake good,” which was something even she was only too happy to admit.

“Sorry, babe, no can do,” Kate apologized.

She tried to sit up, and the man grabbed her and pulled her back against his chest, planting a sloppy kiss on the side of her neck and grabbing at her chest. Kate shrieked and slapped at his wandering hands. It was like being in bed with an octopus; his hands were everywhere.

“Thomas! Stop it! What is it with gay men and tits?” Kate finally pushed him off and sat up in bed, her face flushed and hair messy. She looked down at her mussed up camisole and groaned in mock despair. “Look what you’ve done!”

“What?” Thomas rolled back onto his side and lay with his head propped in his hand, giving her a sleepy-eyed look that had no doubt worked on many conquests.

“You’ve knocked my tits all outta whack.” Kate pushed at them for a moment before giving up and huffing at him in mock exasperation.

Thomas threw back his head and laughed. Kate squinted at him and grinned with affection before crawling off the bed and staggering toward the bathroom. She stopped at the basin to chug back a large glass of water, and then stripped and stepped into the shower, all but groaning with relief as the water hit her skin. She leaned against the tiled wall, trying to wake up, and then yipped with surprise as Thomas yanked back the shower curtain and held out a glass of something fizzing toward her.

“What? It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. Drink this,” he commanded as Kate shrank back and tried to cover herself.

Kate accepted the glass and sniffed at it, eyeing the effervescent contents with caution.

“Relax, Kate. It’s a vitamin B tablet. They’re a great hangover cure,” Thomas said. “Of course,” he added as an afterthought, “they work better if you take them beforehand, but it’ll help you feel human.”

She paused, and then slugged the contents back.

“Good girl.” Thomas was waiting to retrieve the glass. “Now you finish up in there, and I’ll get us something to eat.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Kate said as she turned her back to him, and flinched as she received a stinging slap on her wet rump. “What was that for?”

“That was for sassing me,” Thomas retorted as he left the bathroom.

Kate shook her head at his bossiness and started to wash her hair. She’d nearly finished when she saw a shadow fall across the shower curtain.

“I see you, Thomas Hall.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide,” he replied. “Are you nearly done?”

“Yep.”

“Good. I’m coming in.”

“Give me a sec,” Kate answered, making sure her hair was completely rinsed.

“5…4…3…2” Thomas counted down, then yanked open the curtain.

Kate rolled her eyes and stepped past him, snatching the towel he was ostentatiously holding up to prevent him from seeing anything.

“Bit late to be playing coy now, isn’t it?” Kate asked as she wrapped the towel around herself, and then grabbed a smaller one for her hair. She looked up and saw Thomas’s muscular backside as he stepped into the shower.

“I suppose so, but a semblance of modesty is nice now and then.”

“You, modest? Please.”

“Who said I was talking about
me?”
Thomas said. “I was doing that to protect your sensibilities, although I daresay it’s been a while since you’ve woken up with a man in your bed.”

“True,” Kate said as she towel dried her hair. “But it’s not often I wake up with a screaming queen either.”

“You’d better be careful I don’t just pour you a saucer of milk for breakfast.”

Kate stuck her tongue out at him, aware that she was being childish and enjoying herself anyway, then went into the bedroom to finish getting dry. By the time Thomas had finished his ablutions, Kate had dressed herself into her button down jeans and her Average Joe’s T-shirt. She was lacing up her red Chucks when Thomas reappeared, somehow managing to look immaculate despite the fact he was wearing his clothes from the night before: black jeans and a tailored, white, button down shirt that accentuated his olive skin and flashing, dark brown eyes. His short, dark hair had been freshly washed and styled, and the hint of stubble only made him look all the more picture perfect. He looked her up and down and shook his head.

“Oh, Kate,” he sighed. “Converse again?”

“What?” Kate looked down at them. “I love them.”

“Yeah, but c’mon, can’t you wear something a bit more stylish?”

Kate gave him an exasperated look. “Tom, I bake all day so there’s no way in hell you’re going to get me wearing Jimmy Choo heels.”

“I know. I just live in hope is all,” Thomas said.

“Dream on,” Kate replied. “Actually while you’re at it, dream up a Prince Charming for me.”

“Oh, please, like he’d go for you when I’m in the room.” Thomas snorted.

“Modest much?”

“Not really.” Thomas smirked back.

By the time Kate had brushed her teeth and added a quick layer of makeup in a bid to put a bit more color in her face, Thomas had prepared scrambled eggs and was waiting for the toast to pop up.

“Now you look better,” he praised as Kate appeared in the small living room.

“Thanks, babe,” Kate replied, accepting a plate and glass of juice and indicating the couch with a jerk of her head.

They put their plates down on the coffee table and began to eat. Kate checked her watch and saw that she was still running on time. Thomas looked around his surroundings as he chewed, and sipped at his juice before speaking.

“You know, Kate, this place is looking really homey.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Kate replied as she forked herself some more eggs.

“
Homey
, not homo,” Thomas said, nudging her with his shoulder.

“I know,” said Kate, nudging him back.

“No, really, the place is looking good. You’ve got a nice vibe going on here. It’s very … eclectic.”

Kate looked around the apartment, trying to see it through Thomas’s eyes. The walls were covered with pictures that had either been painted by friends or picked up at flea markets over the years, all vying for wall space with framed postcards and little items of interest that had attracted her attention. The room also boasted a series of bookshelves in different heights and different colors, each one home to a diverse range of books, CDS, glass vases filled with seashells, and still more books. Only one shelf alcove was kept bare but for a graceful pair of Buddha-hand figurines.

“Do you mean eclectic in a good way or a bad way?”

“Oh, definitely good,” Thomas reassured her.

“It’s not as stylish as your place,” Kate admitted as she finished her eggs and reached for her juice.

“True, but it’d be a nice place to bring a date home.” He gave her an arch look. “If you were to actually go on one.”

“I’m a busy woman,” Kate hedged. “I don’t have time to date.”

“Mm-hmm, but you made time to go to the wine bar with Wren last night.”

“That’s different. That was drinks after work,” Kate protested. She hated it when Thomas started grilling her about her love life or lack thereof.

“Right, and I saw a few guys checking you out, which you had no clue about because you weren’t even trying to case the joint.”

Kate sipped her juice but said nothing.

“You know, Kate, you’re a fine lookin’ woman and you need to put yourself out there more. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Thank you, Exhibit A,” Kate replied dryly, then she rushed on to continue as Thomas’s face fell. “Oh, sweetie, no, that’s not what I meant. Crap.” She slumped back into her chair.

“No, it’s okay. I get where you’re coming from,” Thomas said quietly. “I was still working out what the hell I was, so how were you to know?”

“Well, we know now.” Kate sighed.

“Guess I made you gun shy for a while there, huh,” Thomas said with a sad smile.

Kate reached over to take his hand, giving it a light squeeze for emphasis.

“Thomas, you can’t take
all
the credit for my dating disasters. Besides,” she continued, “no matter what your orientation, I think deep down we were always destined to be better friends than lovers. You know I’d much rather have you in my life than not. We’re good.”

“Good to know,” Thomas replied, his expression lightening somewhat. “Still, we’re going to have to find you a man.”

“Okay.” Kate threw her hands up. “Whatever. Knock yourself out. Just do me a favor.” She eyed him.

“Anything,” he replied instantly.

“Make sure your gaydar is working. I think we both know mine’s a little off.”

Thomas laughed and Kate checked her watch.

“Okay, Princess, let’s hit the road. I’ve got to get to work.”

~~~

“I know it’s good for me; I just wish I knew why I’m going to drink it.” Wren regarded the tumbler full of pink juice, and sniffed at it warily. Her conquest from the night before sighed and rested his hip against the counter. His muscular build and natural vitality had been attractive the night before, not to mention his dazzling smile and shoulder length, fair hair. There was still plenty of him to appreciate, but without any coffee to assist the process, Wren wasn’t so sure.

“Because it’s full of nutrients from celery, wheatgrass, carrot, ginger, and fresh beet,” he replied, counting off the ingredients on his fingers as he spoke. “Just drink it and your hangover will thank you.”

Wren drank it down, then gagged and rushed to fill the tumbler with water to follow.

“It tasted like
dirt!”
she accused over her shoulder.

“That’s your imagination,” he replied as Wren shook her head as if to get rid of the taste. “So,” he continued, “what are you doing tonight?”

Wren looked at his kitchen, where she could see he had bowls piled high with fresh produce. She was hung over and longing to eat everything that she knew was bad for her. She also desperately wanted a coffee, but the best he had been able to offer was a cup of dandelion tea. She gazed at the man with regret. Such a shame—he’d been fantastic in the sack.

“I think,” she ventured, “I’m going to eat everything deep fried that I can get my hands on.”

He pulled a face. “You really ought to go vegan,” he began in an earnest tone.

“No, I really ought to go to work,” Wren interrupted, grabbing her bag and heading for the door.

He caught her just before she could leave and planted a long kiss on her. Wren sighed and leaned into him, and then broke away to open the door with a small smile.

“You’ll call?” he asked.

“Mmmm,” she replied, and made her escape while he tried to work out if that had meant yes or no.

What a waste
, she thought to herself.

~~~

Kate yawned as she and Thomas came to a stop at the light, and Thomas ran his hand briskly up and down her back.

“Wakey, wakey,” he said, grinning down at her.

“I’m getting there,” she assured him. “Once I get a coffee, I’ll be fine.”

The light changed and they crossed the street.

“So, what time did we get home last night?”

“All I know is that it was after midnight,” Thomas said, draping his arm around her shoulders and hurrying her along.

“What, after midnight and you didn’t turn into a pumpkin? What a shame you didn’t find Prince Charming after all,” Kate teased.

Thomas gave her a droll look. “Honey, if we’d been in
that
fairy tale, I’d have happily changed as long as I could go home with Peter Pumpkin Eater.”

His brazen comment shocked a whoop of laughter out of Kate, and she stumbled on, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes as Thomas grinned and kept marching her toward work.

“C’mon, you, let’s get you to work. You know it’ll do you good,” Thomas urged.

They rounded the corner to see Wren standing under the canopy, waiting as always.

“Every single morning,” Kate muttered to herself. Thomas looked at her with an inquiring gaze. “She beats me every morning,” Kate explained.

Thomas shrugged. “It just means she’s keen.”

“Hey, boss,” Wren greeted her.

“Don’t call me boss,” Kate replied, and unlocked the door. “You remember Thomas?”

“The man with almost as much style as me? Sure,” Wren sassed as Thomas slapped her on the rump by way of greeting.

“Hey, girl,” Thomas said once they were inside. “So what’s the verdict on last night’s offering? Was he Mr. Right or Mr. Right Now?”

Wren pulled a face. “Mr. Right Now turned out to be a vegan, which is why I’ve got this,” she said, holding up a partially eaten bacon sandwich, “for breakfast.”

“A modern tragedy!” commiserated Thomas.

“Tell me about it,” groused Wren. “I need a coffee,” she said to Kate. “Huge.”

“Got it,” Kate replied.

Wren jammed what was left of her sandwich into her mouth and lugged the chalkboard outside, chewing as she wrote. She stood back to regard her handiwork with a nod of satisfaction, and then went back inside.

Kate had just finished making the coffees for the three of them, and Wren accepted her grande coffee with all the reverence it deserved. She held it in both hands for a moment, just inhaling the freshly brewed aroma, and then took a sip, her eyes all but rolling back into her head with pleasure.

“Wow,” Thomas said as he watched the spectacle. “She really takes her coffee seriously.”