Chapter 16
It was three days before the wedding. Elodie put thirty-six cupcakes into the oven. She didn’t normally stay this late, but she had to, if she was going to get everything done on time. She couldn’t do any more on the wedding cake until the night before the wedding. Once this batch of cakes was done, she could leave them to cool overnight and ice them tomorrow, so that they could be refrigerated until the next day. In the meantime, she had the anniversary cake order to finish icing.
She shut the oven and set the timer. Right. Now to get the colours ready for this anniversary cake. She was halfway through lining up the bottles of colouring alongside four separate bowls so that she could make the coloured buttercream for the flowers, when her phone buzzed. It was a message from Mal.
The table cards have arrived. Want to see?
Elodie stared at the message for a moment. She still wasn’t convinced that getting his nephew to design them was the best idea. He was only a kid. But Mal seemed to think the boy had an eye for design, so she’d chosen to trust him. Certainly, she didn’t have the time or the budget to try anyone else.
She glanced at the oven. She had time to nip across and see these designs. Taking out her phone, she set a timer to remind herself to come back for the cakes.
When she stepped out of her shop, Mal’s helpers were just leaving. He spotted her and waved her over.
The café smelled faintly of bleach and the floor was wet. Elodie picked her way carefully to the first table, where Mal had taken one of the chairs down and put it back on the floor.
‘Here you go,’ he said. ‘It’s not bad, is it?’
She had to admit that it wasn’t. The colours were, as agreed, the same as Saffron’s brand. Elodie pulled up Saffron’s social media and checked. The aesthetic matched too.
‘We’ll have to handwrite any changes in,’ said Mal. ‘But that’s okay.’ He passed across a box with a matching set in Jamie’s brand colours. These looked slightly more angular and masculine. Elodie looked at the two side by side. They managed to look different, but still somehow have elements of similarity so that they matched.
‘Your nephew did a really good job,’ she said.
‘I thought so,’ said Mal. ‘Quite the entrepreneur, that kid.’ He smiled. ‘I checked the designs with Saffron before I had them printed, so she should be okay with them. Do you want to check that the details are right?’
‘Sure. I’ll make a start, at least,’ she said.
‘Great. I need to go and have a look at what’s wrong with this damned machine.’ He pointed a screwdriver towards the coffee machine.
Elodie set about reading the description cards. Each had the ingredients and the nutritional content printed for one type of food. She had to trust that the nutritional content was correct. Mal had done that using some database that he had access to. She just had to check the ingredients. She was deeply engrossed by the time the timer went off in her pocket. She turned it off and looked up.
Mal had moved away and was doing something to the coffee machine, which made a sad hissing noise. He made an impatient sound in his throat. Scowling, he stepped back and pulled his jumper off over his head. His T-shirt rode up with it, revealing a toned, flat stomach.
Elodie’s throat went dry. He pulled his shirt down, put his jumper to the side and pushed up his sleeves. He had such nice forearms. She had no idea what was so attractive about them, but she could look at them all day. He turned the machine off at the wall and set about removing part of it to fix it. The light from the spotlights behind the counter lit his face in stark angles. Sometime during the day, the severe man bun that he wore had loosened, so that the odd wisp of hair had escaped. It made him look like a warrior bedraggled from battle. The frown of concentration on his face was fierce. She lost all sense of time as she studied the lines of his jaw, the eyes so dark that they were almost black. He was handsome and gentle. Despite her best efforts to pick a fight with him, he remained kind and calm. You had to admire a guy like that.
He appeared to be putting the machine back together now. When he looked up, he caught her staring at him.
‘Did you fix it?’ she asked, mainly to avoid having to explain why she was watching him.
He nodded. ‘It does this often. I’m used to it.’ He put the cover back on loosely and turned it back on at the wall. ‘Let’s see.’
He pressed a few buttons and the machine hissed. His grin made his whole face light up.
Elodie felt hot all over. ‘Huh.’
He patted the machine. ‘We understand each other, this old thing and me.’ He grabbed his screwdriver. ‘Let me just get the casing back on and I can test it by making you a coffee, if you like.’
‘Oh. No.’ She almost used the cards she was proofreading to fan her face and caught herself just in time. ‘No, thank you. I have to get back to take my cakes out of … Oh no. The cakes.’ How long ago had she turned the timer off?
Elodie ran across to the shop. When she reached the kitchen, she got a whiff of burning. Grabbing her gloves, she wrenched open the oven. Smoke billowed out. The smoke alarm started going off. Working as fast as she could, she turned off the oven, removed the trays and opened the shop door to let the smoke out. She was flapping a tea towel at the smoke alarm to disperse the smoke when Mal arrived.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Burned the cakes.’ She hadn’t really looked at them.
Mal grabbed a folder and joined her wafting air past the smoke alarm. It didn’t take long to clear the smoke. It was only then that Elodie could check out the damage.
All thirty-six cakes were black on top. Those weren’t going to be usable. She’d have to start again. It was already nearly nine o’clock. She was hoping to ice last night’s cakes and get home by ten and now she had to do a whole new batch of baking as well. Not to mention making sure there weren’t any burnt bits of stray batter in the oven that would make the new cakes taste smoky.
She sat down on her stool. Tears pricked at her eyes.
‘Hey,’ said Mal, his voice heavy with concern. ‘What’s wrong?’
Oh Mal. If he hadn’t been so distracting with his attractive forearms and even more attractive competence, she would have got back here in time and this would not have happened. Now he was here, in her shop, asking stupid questions. ‘Isn’t it bleeding obvious?’
He leaned back, away from her. He glanced at the cakes and then said, carefully, ‘Is there … anything I can do to help?’
‘You can bugger off and let me get back to work.’ Her eyes had filled with tears. She didn’t want to cry in front of this man. She turned her head and glared at the wall.
‘Okay … fine.’
As he walked out of the shop, she felt bad. He was being nice and she’d just bitten his head off. It wasn’t his fault that she was hit by an attack of the hots. She wiped her eyes and jumped off the stool.
‘Mal.’
He paused in the act of opening the door.
‘I’m sorry.’
His smile was small and guarded. ‘That’s okay. You’ve had a shock. It’s understandable.’
‘Still, I shouldn’t take it out on you.’ She leaned her head against the doorframe, suddenly unbelievably tired.
This time his smile was genuine. ‘That’s okay. No harm done. Good luck with your cakes.’
‘Thanks.’ She rubbed her hand over her eyes. ‘Right. Well, best get to it.’
‘I’ll bring that coffee round for you in a bit,’ he said.
‘Thanks.’ She actually could do with coffee now. She shut the door and went into the workroom to get back to work.
One of the problems with her little workroom was that there wasn’t enough workspace, really. If she had the cakes she needed to decorate out on the table, then there wasn’t enough room for the freshly made cakes. Sometimes she ended up putting trays of cakes out in the main shop to cool down. She could only do that when the shop was shut, which was why a lot of her actual baking was done at night.
She had put a new batch of cakes into the oven and was making up the various colours of icing when Mal knocked on the door with a cappuccino for her. It was actually pretty good timing. She let him in and went back to work.
He loitered, looking at the drawings she had laid out on the table. ‘Is this what you’re making?’
Elodie didn’t look up from where she was mixing gel colours to get the shades to match up with the colours in the photographs she’d been given. ‘Yup. Cupcakes featuring roses, hydrangeas and chrysanthemums, the lady’s favourite flowers, which she had in her wedding bouquet. She wanted some with single flowers and some with bouquets.’
‘Can I help with anything?’
‘Haven’t you got your own work to do?’ She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say at this point. On the one hand, logically, she would get more work done without him distracting her, but on the other hand, a part of her really wanted to spend more time with him, distracting or otherwise.
‘I’m done for the night,’ he said. ‘And I’m fascinated by this.’
The part of her that wanted to hang out with him won. ‘Okay.’ She pointed to where she kept spare hairnets and the aprons Marty used. ‘Hairnet, apron.’
‘Cool.’ He sounded so excited that she had to smile. Without her having to tell him, he washed and dried his hands.
She went over to the table, where the cupcakes, still cold from the fridge, were set out. She placed a bowl of pale green buttercream on the table. ‘Here. Make a thin layer of this on each cake. I’ll use it as a base.’ She took a small spatula, scooped a dollop of buttercream on and turned it round until it was a smooth layer. ‘Like that. Don’t worry if it doesn’t fully reach the edge.’
‘Okay. On it.’
She went back to work. After a few seconds, he came up to show her his handiwork. It wasn’t bad. This was just the base layer and it was going to be hidden anyway, so that was fine. He was slower than she was, but at least he was doing a good job. She told him so. He looked so happy, it made her feel warm, and fluttery inside.
She brought the piping bags, now filled with buttercream of different colours, and laid them out.
‘What are those ones for?’ He gestured with his chin to a few bags which she’d packed with smaller amounts of icing and paired with connectors so that she could change the nozzle.
‘They’re for the additional decoration bits. The bigger ones are for the flowers.’ She glanced at the clock. She had a few minutes, so she grabbed one of the cupcakes he’d so carefully covered and started briskly making a rose.
When she finished, Mal was staring at her.
‘It’s like witchcraft,’ he said. ‘How do you do it so fast?’
‘Practice.’
‘Don’t you ever make a mistake going at that speed?’
‘Only if someone distracts me.’
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’
She grinned at him and he smiled back.
They worked side by side until the timer went off and she left to move the cakes out of the oven and put them in the shop to cool. When she returned, he had finished the base layer for all the cakes.
She inspected them and came to a decision. ‘Want to do some hydrangeas?’
‘Yes please, if you can show me how.’
She handed him the right piping bag and a cupcake, a lopsided one that she had kept aside as a spare. She showed him how to hold it. ‘And you use these fingers to squeeze. You can use the other hand to steady it and help if you need to. Now you do this.’ She showed him how to push the icing through and twist to get the flowers. ‘Work round the outside in. Like this.’
When she passed it over, he took it in his much broader hands and held it like he was holding a mallet.
‘No. No. like this.’
She put her hand over his and rearranged his fingers. His hand was warm. When he was holding it right, she paused. She had one arm over the top of his, which meant she was leaning against him, her shoulder against his chest, one breast resting against his upper arm. She could feel his chest move and his breath rippled softly at the back of her neck. It was really nice. But also, not helpful. She quickly moved away.
He didn’t meet her eye, but concentrated on holding the piping bag. He made a small icing flower. It wasn’t as exact as hers would have been, but it was okay.
‘You need to be firmer with it.’ She showed him again.
His next effort was better. She made him scrape off the icing and try again. Now he was getting it.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘You do the hydrangeas. I’ll do the roses.’
She was much faster than him, but he was doing well. She sneaked a glance at him. He was concentrating so hard, his brow furrowed. She wished she could take a photo. He was getting the hang of it and was going a bit faster now. She couldn’t watch, because the temptation to interfere was too strong, so she turned away and kept her eyes on her roses instead.
By the time he finished his, she had moved on to the single chrysanthemum cakes.
‘Those are pretty good,’ she said.
‘Thank you.’ He looked over his cakes and gave a satisfied nod. She recognised that expression. That was how she felt when she’d pulled off a difficult cake idea.
‘What shall I do next?’
She looked at the half-formed chrysanthemum in her hand. ‘I’m afraid I don’t think you can help with the others.’
‘Can I watch for a couple of minutes? Then I’ll head off, if that’s okay?’
‘Sure.’
In the end, she finished the cake she was doing and showed him how she did the leaves as well. He thanked her profusely for the lesson and said she was welcome to bill him for it, which she wouldn’t do, because he had genuinely been helpful.
Once he’d left, the shop felt big and empty. How strange. She was used to being the only person there, working into the night. It had been nice to have company. She thought about the cheery assembly line that Mal had with his two co-workers every evening, with music and conversation as they worked. Perhaps there was something to be said for that.
Her thoughts curled towards the warmth of him, that insistent tug from her body to his. No. She couldn’t think like that. He was just a guy she had to work with. She didn’t have time for things like dating. Look what had happened with Leon.
Some of these inconvenient feelings were from having someone be so obviously impressed by her skills. She had spent too long around her family who treated her job like a silly hobby and meeting anyone who actually valued her work felt like a turn-on. Yes. That had to be it.
She turned her focus towards finishing off her cakes. She knew she wasn’t fooling anyone.
‘Decorating cupcakes?’ Jake stared at Mal. ‘Seriously?’
‘Yes.’
They were in Maureen’s kitchen. Mal had popped by on the way home, to ask how she was getting on with the new dog walker. He hadn’t intended to tell Jake and Maureen about Elodie teaching him to decorate cakes, but it was at the forefront of his mind, so somehow it had slipped out.
Jake leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. ‘This sounds interesting.’
‘Romantic, is what it sounds like to me,’ said Maureen.
‘It isn’t really,’ said Mal. ‘She had burned a batch of cakes and was behind with one of her orders, so I offered to help out.’
‘You know nothing about cake decorating,’ said Jake.
‘I knew nothing about cake decorating. Now I know how to make hydrangeas out of icing using a special nozzle.’ He found a photo that Elodie had allowed him to take. ‘Look. She showed me how to make those.’
‘Oh, that’s very clever,’ said Maureen. ‘You did those?’
‘I did.’ Mal felt quite pleased with himself. Maureen wasn’t an easy woman to impress.
Jake studied the photo thoughtfully, then gave him a narrow-eyed look. ‘Mal, what are you doing?’
He started to explain about the mum who had wanted a keto birthday cake and the idea of cupcake stacks. Jake shook his head.
‘What?’ said Mal. He sank down into the chair opposite, suddenly tired. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘This seems like a bit of a distraction,’ Jake said. ‘You’re already running a café as a new venture and catering for a wedding. You said a couple of days ago that you were feeling swamped. Are you sure you should be adding something more to the mix?’
Mal studied his hands. Jake was right. He knew that. In fact, he pretty much agreed with it. He was stretching himself too thin. If he stopped to admit it, his interest in learning cake decoration was partly governed by the fact that it was a great excuse to spend time with Elodie. She was different when she was working, focused and super competent and … he liked that. He could feel his face heating up.
Jake uncrossed his arms and leaned forward. ‘Your ears are going red,’ he observed.
Mal didn’t know what to say to that.
‘Leave the poor boy alone,’ Maureen said. She patted Mal’s arm. ‘I’m glad you’ve found someone you like. It’s been a while since you had someone.’ She pointed to the two of them in turn. ‘Both of you.’
They protested.
‘I’m just saying,’ said Maureen. ‘You’re very nice young men and it makes me sad to see you single.’
‘Being single isn’t a problem, Maureen,’ said Jake.
‘No. But admit it. You’d be happier if you weren’t.’
Mal couldn’t argue with that. Given that Jake was staring at his feet, he probably couldn’t either.
Maureen gave a theatrical sigh. ‘To be honest, I’ve often wondered why you two aren’t together,’ she said to Mal.
‘No. We’re friends,’ said Mal. ‘We’ve talked about this before.’
‘Maureen,’ said Jake. ‘Are you saying a gay man and a bi man can’t be friends without there being something sexual going on? Rude.’
‘You’d make a lovely couple though.’
Mal shook his head. ‘No. Seriously. We’re best friends. That’s good enough for us.’
‘Better in fact.’ Jake held out a fist. Mal bumped it with his own.
‘Ah,’ said Maureen. ‘I just want you two to be happy. If you like this girl, Mal, you should ask her out.’
‘I can’t. She’s sort of seeing Leon.’ It was so annoying. Especially because it was Leon. ‘Besides, we have to work together. I don’t want to make it weird.’
‘Oh yeah? And playing Mary Berry in the middle of the night isn’t weird at all?’ Jake said.
‘Do you think it was?’ He frowned. Elodie hadn’t seemed too put out by his presence. She wasn’t the type to suffer in silence. If she wanted him to leave, she’d have said, wouldn’t she? He thought of the moment when she’d leaned in to show him how to squeeze the piping bag correctly, her hands over his, the soft press of her body against his arm. She wouldn’t have let that happen if she was uncomfortable. ‘I don’t think it was weird …’ he said, slowly. ‘But you’ve got me worried now.’
Jake grinned at him. ‘Oh bless,’ he said. ‘You have such a crush on this woman.’
‘I don’t. I—’
‘Your ears are going red again.’ Maureen took a sip of tea. ‘I think you do.’
Oh, who was he trying to kid? Mal put his head in his hands. ‘I do. I do. And I don’t have the time for that. Even if I did, I can’t do anything about it, because … like I said, she’s taken and we have to work together.’
‘Are you sure she’s going out with Leon? That guy has some serious hang-ups, especially when it comes to you. If she is genuinely going out with Leon, she must be a terrible judge of character.’
‘All I know is that they were out at dinner together the other night and they met up again the next day. He was just leaving the Cornish pasty place when I went to meet her to talk about pitching for the wedding.’
‘That doesn’t make her his, does it?’ said Maureen.
Mal made a see-saw motion with his hands. ‘Dodgy territory though. Like I said, I don’t want to make it weird.’
‘So you’d rather sit around moping?’
When he shrugged, Jake leaned forward. ‘Mal. You know I love you dearly, but you have to stop thinking that your happiness is worth less than other people’s.’
‘I don’t.’ Mal glared at his friend. He knew that Jake had a point. Jake knew everything about him, even the worst parts … especially the worst parts. When Mal ran away from home the second time, Jake’s shared house had been his safe place to run to. So he knew that Jake was right.
‘You’re an incredible guy, Mal. You’re kind, you’re loyal, you’re super hard working.’ Jake leaned back in his seat, his eyes creasing into a smile. ‘And objectively speaking, you’re hot.’
‘Thank you.’ He did try to be all those things. Well, not the last one. He didn’t want to talk about the other stuff. ‘Hot is never objective, is it? It’s subjective.’
Jake narrowed his eyes. ‘Malindu Pathirana. I know a change of topic when I see one.’
Mal sighed. ‘Can we talk about it another time? I’m shattered.’ He finished his tea and stood up. ‘Thank you for the tea, Maureen.’
He took his cup to the sink and washed it up. ‘I’ll see you sometime soon, I guess.’ He grabbed his stuff and gave Maureen a kiss on the cheek.
‘Okay. But I think you should tell the cake lady that you like her,’ Maureen said. ‘Who knows, maybe she’ll like you back.’
‘Ha. Doubt it. I’ve never met a woman so angry.’
‘Sometimes angry is just a mask for sad,’ Jake said.
Mal raised an eyebrow. ‘Is it?’
Jake coloured slightly. ‘So I’ve heard.’
‘Should we be talking about your love life instead?’ He had passed Marty’s number on to Jake ages ago. ‘Did you call Marty?’
Maureen perked up. ‘Oh! Who is Marty?’
Jake stood up. ‘You’re right. It is late. I think I should turn in.’
‘Oh, no you don’t, young man,’ said Maureen. ‘Sit back down.’
Jake sat.
‘Tell me about Marty.’
Mal grinned at Jake and made to leave. ‘Mal,’ Jake shouted after him.
Mal stopped in the hallway. ‘Yes?’
‘You should ask her if she is going out with Leon. Just in case she isn’t.’
Mal sighed. ‘I’ll think about it.’ Ha. Like he was going to be able to stop thinking about it. ‘G’night.’