Chapter 1 #2
Adam happened to be of the mind that people like this should get what they actually paid for, not a whole bunch of extras, but he knew better than to say that.
“If that’s everything,” he said, smiling carefully at her, “I should be on my way.”
She reached out and clasped his arm, her long pink nails feeling a bit like talons.
“Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “You have to stay. What if something goes wrong when we cut the cake?”
So close. Adam had been so close. He suppressed a sigh.
“As we already discussed, you should be able to cut anywhere where there isn’t a spun-sugar flower. The fondant and cake are both soft. You can start in the back here”—he pointed—“and then remove the flowers as you get to the front of the cake.”
She’d been insistent about wanting the spun-sugar flowers on the cake, so Divine Confections had provided—along with clear instructions on how to cut the cake that she had clearly ignored.
She eyed him. “Surely, in recognition of what I’ve been through already, you’d want to make this easier for me.”
He suppressed another sigh, pasted on another smile, and assured her, “Yes, of course.”
Charlene took this as her due. Adam was pretty sure she’d never been uncertain of anything in her entire life.
She fluttered her hand at him. “Just don’t get in the way.”
Adam was doing everything in his power to make sure he didn’t get in the way.
He carefully made his way to one side of the patio—only one server had to dodge around him, and they didn’t even drop a tray.
Clearly, they were experts at this. (Adam had spent all of one week in his teens disastrously trying to work at a restaurant.
Needless to say, it hadn’t lasted. His father had always told him that he’d grow out of his long-limbed, awkward clumsiness. Adam was now thirty-two.)
Tucked up against one of the festooned walls, he tried to make himself inconspicuous, wincing as one of the flowers that he was touching somehow detached and fell to the floor.
When he bent over to pick it up, he managed to knock into one of the tables, but thankfully, it only made all the dishes jostle a little, rather than fall over.
He spent several minutes trying to get the flower back into the display, wishing that he wasn’t surrounded by normal people. One little spell, and he could have stuck it back on the wall almost instantly.
But while the World Spell helped to ensure people didn’t find out about witches and shifters, everyone knew that it was struggling to keep up with this modern society full of very connected people who could go viral in seconds.
Several attempts had been made in the last few decades to append to the Spell, adding to the requirement that normal people not notice magic and shifters, but none had been successful.
If the exact spell used to cast the Spell had ever been recorded, it had been lost long ago.
There’d been talk of having the Spellsmiths try to create a new spell, but the World Spell was huge and complex, and if something went wrong…
So every witch and shifter was taught not to simply rely on the Spell.
In a setting filled with normal people, they didn’t shift, and they didn’t cast magic, not on a whim.
Accidents and emergencies happened, and that was when they all relied on the Spell to make normal people gloss over strange occurrences or doubt what they’d seen.
Adam had heard that some work had also gone into investing in the entertainment industry so that something caught on camera would be dismissed as special effects or a hoax.
It had definitely gotten harder to stay hidden these days, but at least they had most people’s skepticism along with the Spell to help protect them.
But they also had to protect themselves, which meant that they needed to be smart and risk getting yelled at for dislodging a flower.
Adam tried to hover slightly less close to the wall—but still close enough that he didn’t get in anyone’s way.
The servers were still gliding between the attendees like this was an intricate dance, one that everyone but Adam had learned.
There were two photographers who were also deftly moving between everyone.
Adam had always been envious of the skill. He’d learned a few coping mechanisms over the years. He knew that he did better when he concentrated on one thing at a time, and so he tried to do that, but it was definitely easier said than done.
There was lots of laughing and chatter that made it almost impossible for Adam to pick out individual conversations. Thankfully, he wasn’t interesting enough or cute enough or whatever for them to want to talk to him. If he could just make it through the cake cutting, it would be fine.
Thankfully, Charlene decided it was time for cake before it was time for gifts. She tapped her fork against the side of her glass, and the whole area settled down to watch her as she stood next to the cake.
She made a little speech that seemed to boil down to her deserving the best of everything. Adam didn’t disagree that people deserved good things, but he thought this was a bit much.
Only then she managed to swing it back: “So, of course, that’s why all of you are here!”
There was a chorus of laughter and cries of agreement from the crowd that had clearly been freely imbibing the drinks. Maybe these really were a hundred of Charlene’s closest friends and family. Just because Adam couldn’t imagine being that close to so many people didn’t mean it wasn’t her reality.
He wondered what her fiancé was like and if this marriage would last. Witches and shifters could get married like normal people did, but they could also bond—and that tended to have much more permanent consequences.
He shifted restlessly. Would normal people make that choice if they could?
Would they be starry-eyed with love and lacking in common sense and think that what they had really would last forever?
Or would they consider the possible consequences?
The photographers were both hovering to get the best photos of Charlene as she cut the cake.
Adam wasn’t sure if she wanted the photos to have a full view of her dress or if she’d forgotten all of the instructions he’d given, but she went to cut the cake from the front, where the majority of the spun-sugar roses had been carefully affixed.
The rose she was trying to cut cracked and pushed back into the cake, digging into the fondant.
Adam was already moving before she shot him a wide-eyed look.
He managed to weave between two women and the tables, only jostling one person’s elbow before he hit the open space that led to the cake and gift tables.
He had a reassuring smile on his face even as he hoped he wasn’t going to wind up in any of these photos; he was not a part of Charlene’s aesthetic.
And then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a still, dark form that didn’t match this explosion of pink at all.
Adam turned his head. The man was out past the edge of the patio.
He’d probably just come from the entrance to the garden.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and dark eyes.
He was very handsome, and there was something about him that tugged at Adam.
The man was standing stock still, staring in at them with an arrested expression on his face.
Adam had the weirdest feeling that the man was staring at him and not at the entire group of ladies and flowers and pink. Absurdly, it felt like the rest of the world melted away as their eyes met and held. Adam’s breath caught in his throat.
Unfortunately, the rest of the world did not, in fact, disappear. Adam was still heading for Charlene, and he felt the moment that he stumbled, losing his balance.
After that, well… It was like it happened in slow motion.
Adam had always regretted that there wasn’t a magic that would let him slow time down for real so he had time to react.
But no, it only felt slow as his head snapped back to forward and he windmilled his arms, desperately trying to regain his balance.
He caught himself on the edge of the table holding the cake, and all might have been well…
had the table not collapsed, taking Adam and the cake with it.
Two hours later, Adam was still rather wet, and he was still finding patches of cake, icing, and destroyed decorations in awkward places. On the plus side, he was back at Divine Confections; were it not for the freak torrential downpour, he would probably still be getting yelled at by Charlene.
Well, to be scrupulously fair to her, she hadn’t been yelling solely at Adam. She’d yelled at him, the staff, the cake, the table, and anything else she could think of. Some of it had just been non-verbal screeching.
Her cake had been ruined beyond the shadow of a doubt.
Adam was the one who’d tripped and landed on said cake.
It was even true that she’d got a few bits of cake and icing on her dress—but Adam had gone practically face-first into the cake, and it had been hard to feel as much sympathy for her as he probably should have.
She’d been really shrill, all right? It wasn’t until he’d slunk back to the van that he’d even realized he was bleeding.
Apparently, going face-first into a cake that was decorated with spun-sugar roses was a terrible idea—who knew?
He probably wouldn’t have made it to the van anytime soon were it not for the out-of-the-blue rain.
Adam could have sworn the storm appeared between one blink and the next, but it must have clouded over while he was waiting for the cake cutting.
The patio was enclosed, so they should have been fine, only it had rained so fiercely and at such a slanted angle that everyone had gotten wet.
Thankfully, in the chaos of all that shrieking and scurrying, Adam had been able to escape. Getting soaked on the way to the van had seemed a small price to pay, and the rain had helped with getting some of the cake and icing off.
“I’m so sorry,” he told Maggie for what was probably the ten-thousandth time since she’d appeared in the kitchen and seen his utterly ruined state and he’d explained what had happened.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t actually the first time a disaster had occurred because of Adam, but it was definitely the most spectacular.
He’d never fallen into a cake at a Divine Confections event before.
He wondered if the photographers had gotten any photos.
It was probably not the way that Charlene had wanted to commemorate her shower.
Maggie hadn’t yelled. She didn’t, generally.
She was fifty-six, her red hair just starting to gray at the temples, and he’d always thought that she was what a mom was supposed to be like.
Her red squirrel familiar perched on her shoulder and chittered at Adam, but she didn’t seem to be scolding.
Maggie knew he didn’t mean to be clumsy, although she’d instituted her rules for a reason.
At least with a witch-run establishment, he didn’t have to fill out a DWC1 injured worker form.
It had happened so frequently in normal-people-run establishments that Adam had realized he couldn’t keep working for them.
A witch shouldn’t draw attention to himself.
“I was just trying to help,” he said, shoulders slumping.
She squeezed his arm gently with fingers that looked noticeably more relaxed and straight than they’d been before she’d visited the medical witch. That was something, at least.
“I know you were, honey. It’s all right.”
Morosely, Adam pointed out, “I’m sure Charlene is going to call and yell.”
“I’ll deal with her,” Maggie assured him.
Adam was pathetically grateful. He didn’t think he could handle dealing with the woman after what had happened.
Simon was grinning. “Tell us again how the hottest man to ever hot caught your attention?”
Adam groaned, once again regretting that he’d been so frazzled when he got back that the whole story had spilled out.
“Don’t remind me! I tripped face-first into a cake while he was watching. The only saving grace in this whole debacle is that I’ll never see him again.”
Adam’s clumsiness meant that he’d been in a great many embarrassing situations over the years, but this one had, well… it had taken the cake.