Take the Cake (11 page)

Kate sipped her coffee, her mind racing. She set her cup down and looked at Paul. “You’re really serious.”

“Yup.”

“How long have you been thinking about this?”

“About twelve months,” he admitted, then held up a hand as she opened her mouth to protest. “I wanted to make sure it was a long term trend, not just a spike in your sales.”

Kate shook her head. “How is it that you ended up with a degree in Business and yet you work as an Urban Ranger at Central Park?”

Paul shrugged. “Guess I found something to do that I enjoy more. How did that Literature degree of yours work out?”

“Point taken,” she replied.

“That’s what she said,” Paul shot back, making her laugh. “I guess we found our passions led us elsewhere, but look at it this way, I’m in a position to help my favorite sister, my youngest sister, my oldest sister …” He paused and raised an eyebrow.

“Your only sister,” Kate completed the old joke and waved for Paul to continue.

He nodded and went on. “… with her business decisions, and make sure that she’s okay,
and
I get to stop in and see the hotties that her business attracts. And although you’ve got a Literature degree you don’t think you use, I’ve got an extensive collection of notes and letters from you at home and I know your friends often keep them too, so I think we’re doing okay.” He toasted her with his cup and took a swig.

“You’ve kept all my notes?”

“Yep.”

“Even the one that I wrote on the back of a dry cleaning docket?”

“Even that one. It’s one of my favorites because it tells me that you were having a busy day but you still had a moment to think about your brother, grab any piece of paper that came to hand and write something to him.”

Kate thought about Paul’s business suggestion and her forehead wrinkled with concern. “You’re really sure about this?” she asked as she waved a hand at the printouts Paul had spread across the table to illustrate his point.

“Totally.”

Without breaking her gaze, Kate lifted her chin slightly. “Hey, Wren, you got a sec?”

“Hang on,” came the reply. Wren finished serving, Emily took over and Wren appeared at the table.

“Sit down,” Kate invited her.

“What’s all this about?”

“Well, Paul here has just made a suggestion and I thought I’d see what you think.”

“Oh?”

“How would you feel if I were to close the store Sundays and Mondays, and we all have a two day weekend?”

Wren stared at her. “I think I could tongue kiss you right now.”

“I think that means she thinks it’s good,” observed Paul. “Although if you girls want to try the practical demonstration, I’ve got no objections, Wren, so long as your intentions toward my sister are honorable.”

~~~

That night Kate let herself into the apartment and slipped into her usual routine. Jewelry was dispensed into teacups, keys were hung up, and her bag was slung over a chair. She wandered about the apartment, her face blank with thought. Dinner was cooked and eaten, followed by a glass of red wine. The television was switched on and stared at for a long time. After a few hours, Kate sat up with a huff of exasperation. It was no use trying to relax, because her head wouldn’t stop buzzing with activity. Paul’s revelation this afternoon had floored her, although she had to admit that she was thrilled.

Maybe she’d go see a movie. It was better than lying on the sofa like a corpse.

A quick change later, she was skipping down the steps. She walked a couple of blocks before finding a cab. She had no idea what was showing, but she knew the Quad Cinema between Fifth and Sixth Avenue had late shows. It’d probably be an independent or foreign film, but that suited her just fine.

~~~

Michael woke with a start, cursing when he saw the time. After getting home, he’d had a long, hot shower and re-read his writing effort from the night before. After a quick lunch, he’d sprawled on the sofa, staring drowsily at the television, not even realizing he was falling asleep. Now it was late at night. He sat up with a sigh and scrubbed at his hair with his hands.

Rather than loll about in the apartment, he decided to catch a movie at the Quad, knowing that they always had something worth seeing. He left the apartment and was just settling himself into a seat at the cinema when he saw movement in the aisle, his eyes widening as he saw who it was.

“Kate?” he whispered.

Her head snapped up in surprise. “Michael?” she whispered back. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, I’d imagine,” he replied, inclining his head toward the still darkened screen.

“Oh, right.” She gave a sheepish laugh. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone I knew here at this hour.” She paused and looked at him. “So are you stalking me or something?”

“Well, given I got here first, I’d have to say it’s a case of you stalking me.”

“True,” she conceded, then glanced around at the array of empty seats. “Uh, so it seems a bit silly to know you’re here and sit somewhere else. Do you mind if I …?” She indicated the seat beside him.

“I’d be delighted,” he replied with a smile.

Kate had barely sat down when the lights began to dim.

“So,” murmured Michael after a pause, “what’s your stash?”

She looked at him, her eyes luminous in the dark. “Huh?”

He held up his bucket of popcorn by way of explanation.

“Oh, right. Let’s see, I’ve got Junior Mints, Goobers, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got some Reese’s Cups in here somewhere too.” She dug around in her bag and produced a packet with a triumphant smile. “And a small vat of Coke.”

“I’m impressed; you take your snacking seriously.” He paused. “Do you allow incursions?”

“Absolutely, but I’ll be expecting popcorn in return.”

“Deal.”

Arrangements made, they smiled and settled back to watch the movie. Unfortunately for Michael, although it seemed that Kate was thoroughly enjoying herself, he wasn’t able to keep track of the movie at all. Her scent swirled around him, as did the memory of his dream. He could feel the heat of her body soaking into his, and he reveled in it.

Chapter 8

Limited French and Possibilities

The closing credits began to roll, and the other movie patrons started to gather themselves and file out of the theater. Michael and Kate remained relaxed in their seats, talking in quiet voices and laughing occasionally as they discussed the movie.

“That was …” Michael said as he tried to find the right word and gave up with a laugh. “I don’t know what the hell that was.”

“I didn’t know this one was screening until I got here, but some of his other movies are quite a trip. Did you like it?”

“You know, I think I did,” Michael replied slowly. “I had no idea what to expect.”

When he had decided to catch a late night movie, Michael had no other expectations beyond keeping himself occupied for a couple of hours. He had arrived at the cinema and purchased a ticket for whatever was screening at the next show, grabbed a snack, and wandered inside to take a seat. At first when he had seen Kate walking up the aisle in the dim lighting, he thought he was seeing things, but when he had realized that serendipity had again brought her to him, he had felt a rush of pleasure.

Michael had followed the movie with a diminished level of attention as his mind kept wandering to the woman who sat beside him. He wondered if she realized she leaned into his shoulder during the more dramatic scenes, or shifted in her seat when the characters’ tortuously slow entanglement began to gain speed. He had enjoyed the movie, but enjoyed Kate’s reactions to it all the more. She allowed herself to be truly immersed in the storyline. The way her breathing quickened, the slight involuntary movements she made told him that, for her, a movie was a complete sensory experience.

“Who’s the director?” Michael turned a little in his seat so that he could see Kate’s face more clearly.

“Uh, Jean-Pierre something. I’ll have to check the poster on the way out,” Kate admitted. “His movies are like a kind of fairytale for grownups. You really ought to see some of his other films. I’d be curious to see what you think.”

“What are they?” Michael asked. Even if he’d known, he would have asked. He just wanted to keep her talking, to keep her with him.

“
The City of Lost Children
and
Amélie
are two of my favorites,” Kate replied, then had to stifle a yawn behind her hand. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Michael looked at his watch. “It’s nearly midnight.” He got to his feet and extended a hand to help her up, which she accepted with a smile. It seemed only natural that he kept her hand in his as they walked down the aisle toward the exit, past the tired usher who was holding a garbage bag as he collected discarded drink cups and popcorn buckets. They emerged into the evening and stopped on the sidewalk, smiling at each other. Michael released her hand with considerable reluctance.

“Have you got a busy week planned?” Michael asked, still wanting to prolong their time.

“As always,” Kate answered with a smile. “It never stops, but I guess I’ve only got myself to blame for that one.”

“You don’t look too sorry about it,” he observed.

“It’s starting to pay off. My brother has been going over the books for me, and I’ll be able to give myself more of a weekend soon.” She yawned again, apologizing with a laugh.

“You’re going to need a break,” Michael said, “but for now we’d better get you home. Which way are you headed?”

“I’m in West Village.”

Michael’s eyebrows went up at that. “Really? I’m in West SoHo.” He’d wondered where she lived, and now he’d discovered they were closer than he thought, which perhaps explained why they had ended up at the same cinema. “You want to share a cab?”

Kate looked up and down the street, which was quiet. “Sure,” she agreed. “Why not?”

Michael crooked his arm, which she accepted with a smile, and they began to walk. They’d barely gone a block before Michael flagged down a cab and helped Kate inside. The cab took off with a lurch, sending Kate, who had been settling into her seat, crashing into Michael.

“Oops, sorry.” She laughed.

Michael looked at her and smiled, feeling brave. “I’m not.”

They gazed at each other and Kate smiled. “Neither am I,” she admitted, glad that the dim interior of the cab hid her blush.

“I know this wasn’t a date, but would you mind if I …” He raised an eyebrow at her in silent query as he dipped his head toward hers.

“Not at all,” Kate whispered, lifting her face toward his.

Their lips met in a soft kiss, parted, and went back for more.

“Well, for an evening that wasn’t a date, I had a great time,” Kate said with a smile.

“So did I,” Michael replied. “Maybe we should arrange to bump into each other again soon.” It wasn’t a question.

“That sounds like a great idea,” she agreed, then looked up in surprise as the cab slowed to a halt, and she realized that they had arrived at her address. “But for now, I guess this is goodnight.”

“Allow me.” Michael had gotten out of the cab and opened her door. He instructed the cabbie to wait and escorted her to the front door of the building. Michael quirked an eyebrow at her and offered a grin. “One for the road?”

Their mutual eagerness had them bumping noses and exchanging a husky laugh again before their laughter subsided into the sweetness of each other’s mouths.

“Well, Kate, I guess I’ll be seeing you soon,” Michael said, still holding her hand and tracing gentle circles on it with his thumb. “Maybe we can arrange a date sometime.”

“I’d like that,” she said softly as dimples appeared on her cheeks, making him smile.

“Good night,” he said and turned to walk back to the cab.

“Sweet dreams,” she called, and for a moment he hesitated, his gaze flashing back to her, before he shot her a broad smile and climbed back into the cab.

~~~

“It’s about time,” Wren commented with a raised eyebrow the next morning.

“What?” Kate was surprised at Wren’s remark as she appeared with the tray of cupcakes.

“You’ve been daydreaming all morning, and for the first time ever you’re—” Wren looked at her watch, “—ten minutes behind schedule.”

Kate laughed, setting down the tray and leaning forward into the cabinet to arrange the cakes, hoping that the action would hide her flushing cheeks. She hadn’t gotten much sleep and had felt out of breath all morning. It seemed that her mind wanted to replay the kiss with Michael at every opportunity.

“Not for long,” Kate replied. “Get the chalk.”

“What do you think this is?” Wren held up a stub. Kate hadn’t even noticed her pick it up. She really had to work to get her focus back today. She’d never been this distracted after a kiss before. She thought for a moment, and then dictated, knowing full well that Wren was going to be curious, but she was too happy to care.

Wren raised an eyebrow and wrote down the words with a smile, and then propped up the chalkboard, watching as Kate headed back into the kitchen. Something was definitely going on. She knew that if she asked too many questions Kate would clam up, but she was content to wait and see.

~~~

Michael liked what he saw, as he leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles and shaking out his hands as he gazed at the screen. He’d woken up with words tumbling out of his head, his fingers itching to type them out and up onto the page. With barely a conscious thought, he’d stumbled out of bed and over to his desk, sat down, and began to type. He had no idea what he was writing about, which for him was a departure from his normal style. His previous novels had been mapped out in meticulous detail, character biographies and intertwining relationships carefully noted and explored. This time there was none of that; he simply sat and typed. By the time the stream of words had slowed to a trickle, he was aware of a mild ache between his shoulders.

Michael looked at his watch and snorted with surprise at the hour. He had been working for longer than he thought. He sat for a moment, considering his options, and then with a sigh got up and changed into his jogging gear. He’d taken to going for early morning runs, although glancing back at his laptop, he couldn’t find it in his heart to begrudge the altered morning schedule today. He stopped long enough to fill up his water bottle and grab his keys, and then he was gone.

Jogging around Washington Square Park, Michael stopped for a few breathers and drink breaks. After his initial jog with David, he had woken up stiff and sore, which had been a bitter lesson to learn. Without David to spur him on this time, he set himself an easier pace and noticed that he didn’t seem to be struggling as much as he thought he would. His decision to quit smoking had definitely done him some favors. By the time Michael had finished the circuit, he was well and truly ready for a shower, and he jogged home slowly. Once home, he stood in the kitchen, flicking through the mail he had collected in the foyer downstairs. There was nothing of note, and he headed toward the bathroom for a shower. He wanted lunch, and he wanted to see Kate. There was no reason why he couldn’t do both.

The city noises hummed around Michael as he made his way toward the Village. He’d taken his time with a shower and a careful shave, picking out clean jeans and a button down shirt. The jog had left him feeling hungry and energized, and he found himself paying more attention to his surroundings as he walked, enjoying his newfound sense of purpose. David had called, wanting to meet for lunch, and unsurprisingly they had both agreed the bakery would be the perfect spot. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and answered without checking the number.

“Forrester,” he said, weaving through a group of students that were mingling outside a music store. “Alistair, hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” Alistair replied, taken aback at Michael’s voice. “How’s things?”

“Good,” Michael said. “I’m just taking a break for some lunch, and then I’ll be back working this afternoon.”

“You’re still writing?” Alistair worked to keep the surprise out of his voice but wasn’t entirely successful. After months of dealing with a dour-sounding Michael, this new incarnation had caught him off-guard.

“Don’t worry,” Michael replied in a dry tone. “I’m as surprised as you are.”

“It sounds like it’s going well.”

“Whatever it is,” agreed Michael. “I still don’t know what to tell you about it, but give me a few days and I’ll send an outline.”

Alistair found himself in a quandary. He was eager to get his hands on whatever it was Michael might be working on, but didn’t want to push for fear of dampening this sudden onset of creativity.

Michael snorted. “It’s probably better I send you something soon before I change my mind.”

“Well, whenever you’re ready,” Alistair agreed quickly to seal the offer. “Get it to me when you can.” He paused. “And Michael?”

Michael hunched his shoulders a little as he walked, trying to listen to Alistair’s voice over the sounds of traffic. “What?”

“You sound good. Better than you have in a long time.” Alistair chose his words with care. “Whatever you’ve come across that’s helping you out, hang onto it.”

“Oh, I plan to,” Michael replied. He looked up at the intersection and saw that he was only a block away now. “Gotta go. We’ll talk again soon.”

“All right then,” said Alistair. He hung up and shook his head in wonder. He’d been worrying about Michael over the last few months, watching as the deadline had come and gone with nothing to show for it. Now it seemed that there had been a change in fortune, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the cause of it was.

~~~

Worrying is like a rocking chair:
 it gives you something to do
but doesn’t get you anywhere.

Michael smiled at the chalkboard, and then stepped inside. Worrying seemed to be something he’d been doing less of lately. His gaze went straight to the counter inside, and he saw Kate serving some customers, and then turned to where he heard his name being called. David gave him a casual wave from the table he’d commandeered and was folding up his newspaper as Michael approached.

“I see you’ve brought your work with you,” Michael said, nodding at the paper.

“You’d think so.” David snorted. “But I’m not so sure anymore.”

Michael started to pull out a chair from the table to take a seat, and then glanced over at the counter again. Kate was nearly finished with her customers; maybe he’d go say hello first. He glanced at David. “You want a coffee?”

“It’s why I’m here,” David answered, then got up and tossed the newspaper onto the table. “Let’s eat.”

Wren was emerging from the kitchen as Emily appeared in the doorway with a conspiratorial grin.

“He’s back,” she said.

Wren gave her a blank stare. “Who is?”

“Galahad, and he’s brought his friend again,” Emily said, jerking her head back toward the store.

Peering over her shoulder, Wren saw Michael flanked by a man with fair hair. “Oh great,” she muttered to herself. “It’s Mr. Wonderful.”

“You know him?” Emily looked at her in surprise.

“I don’t need to,” Wren said in a dismissive tone. “I know his type.” She paused and gave David a more considered once-over. He was looking good: not too preppy, not too casual. He clearly had a sense of his own style and knew how to work it to his best advantage. She gave her shirt a quick tug to smooth out any creases and raked her fingers through her hair to freshen up the style. Today she was wearing her favorite navy blue Capri pants and a fitted, orange T-shirt that bore the slogan “100% organic.” She was looking good today, too, and that made her feel even better. Two could play at that game. Strolling out into the storefront, Wren gave Michael a broad smile of welcome.

“Hey, stranger,” she greeted him. “Great to see you again.”

David raised an eyebrow at this and glanced at Michael. How often had he been coming here? He watched Michael glance across at another woman who was serving some other customers, saw her give him a blushing smile and got his answer. He glanced down to conceal his smile. He didn’t know what was going on between the two, but his friend looked happy, and for David, that was enough.