“Hey Uncle Slim!” Kellie called, hands busy with rolling snickerdoodle balls of dough in cinnamon and sugar. “Yo, Joey, Rex.”
“Hey Kellie,” Joel called back.
“Hey,” Rex said distractedly, his eyes big and taking in the sights and smells of magic happening all around and his face registered exactly that – magic.
I giggled at Rex and my eyes went to Brock who’d greeted his niece verbally but came to me and greeted my physically by getting close to my side and kissing my neck.
Then his mouth moved to my ear and he whispered, “Sweetness.”
I shivered and my head turned, my eyes finding his.
“Hey honey,” I whispered back, his eyes danced, I got another shiver then I looked to the boys. “Hey guys.”
“Hey Tess,” Joey replied.
“Hey,” Rex mumbled, staring at the huge cake in front of me.
“Poppy seed with raspberry and cream filling and vanilla bean frosting,” I told him, he blinked at the cake, his eyes lifted to mine, he blinked at me then his eyes dropped back to the cake and he licked his lips.
I giggled again.
Then I shouted to the swinging doors, “Guys! Anything they want, on the house for my two boys!”
“You got it, Tess!” Suni shouted back.
Joel muttered, “Awesome,” and took off on a dash into the front.
Rex was already gone.
I giggled again.
Then I looked at Brock and asked, “What’re you guys doing here?”
I asked this because our plans for the day were set. Considering my schedule and the fact it was girls’ night in and Brock had the boys, I was working all day then hoofing it to Martha’s. Depending on my level of inebriation and the lateness of the festivities, I was either going to go to Brock’s later, call him to get me if I was hammered or crashing at Martha’s.
A visit to the bakery wasn’t on the agenda thus a surprise though a good one.
“You got a minute?” Brock asked in return and that was when I wondered if this surprise was a good one.
I looked down at the cake which was almost done. I’d baked them all the day before and only had to decorate them. This was the last birthday cake and next up was the anniversary cake. My appointments weren’t until after three. Therefore I had time.
So I nodded, put down the pastry bag and muttered, “Let’s go to my office.”
We went and when I closed the door behind me and saw Brock looking around with unconcealed surprise, I realized he’d never been back here. Not when we were seeing each other when he was Jake and not when we got back together when he was mine.
He looked at the chaos then at me and said simply, “Babe.”
“I know where everything is,” I defended myself.
He looked around again then back at me. “That’s impossible.”
“No, really.”
He grinned.
Then he tipped his head toward the door, crossed his arms on his chest and remarked,
“Madhouse.”
I nodded. “I need to consider more hires, decorators for the back, staff for the front. It isn’t lightening up even on weekdays and special orders are getting out of hand so I don’t have time to help the girls keep the front stocked.”
“You need to consider opening new locations,” Brock returned and I blinked at him. “It’s a madhouse out there ‘cause this is the only place in Denver they can get your stuff so they descend en masse here. You open shops in LoDo, Park Meadows, considering additional foot traffic and convenience to locals, you’ll clean up.”
I had, of course, thought of this after I’d learned Brock was not Jake, we were apart for those three months and I was hell-bent on doing anything that might take my mind off being played but mostly losing him (an effort that, incidentally, failed). I’d even looked at locations for expanding, including one in LoDo or what lower downtown Denver was known as.
However, these activities clashed with my half-baked plans to sell my house and move to Kentucky so I didn’t fully investigate them. But also, I didn’t fully investigate them because already the success of my shop was cutting into the time I got to do the fun stuff. I had an accountant and outsourced payroll but that was it. All the hires, scheduling of personnel, ordering, inventory, my calendar and the rest of it I did. The idea of adding another shop to that load, or, worse, two, didn’t fill me with glee.
“I’m uncertain of my desire to be the Cake Guru of Denver. I like baking and decorating.
I’m not chomping at the bit to build and oversee a cake empire.”
He grinned then decided he was done with our distance, which, considering my office was tiny was only two feet so the distance wasn’t that distant but still, he obviously didn’t like it. I knew this because his arms uncrossed and one shot out, he grabbed my hand, tugged on it hard so I was forced to take a big step forward and I fell into his body. Then both his arms wrapped around me and I tilted my head back to look up at him as my arms slid around his waist. Then he gave me no time to make a comment or react to this change of physical circumstances, he casually continued the conversation like yanking me into his arms in the middle of one was a totally normal thing to do.
Which, I realized in that nanosecond, for Brock it was.
“So hire a business manager to oversee the shit you don’t wanna do at your different locations and spend your time baking and decorating,” he suggested.
This idea held merit but I still shook my head and explained, “Sometimes, when folks expand, things get out of hand. You lose quality. You lose personality. It starts to be about money, not about soul. I put a lot of work into what’s happening out there and my name is on these cakes.” I gave his waist a squeeze and said quietly, “To me, baby, this isn’t just cakes, it’s my vision, it’s me. And I need to control it.”
And it was my vision, it was me. I’d not that long ago finally discovered who I was and what was inside me and that didn’t only include a mountainous swirl of frosting under which was rich, moist cake. It also included robin’s egg blue and lavender and hibiscus blossoms and hummingbirds and smiling clerks and kids who walked in with looks on their faces like Rex and walked out with smiles on their faces like pretty much everybody.
“All right, darlin’,” Brock said softly and my focus went back to him. “You’d had a tough night so you might have missed it but over Mexican, your girl bitched… at length… about her job. She’s in a bad place, hates what she’s doin’ and she’s been lookin’ around now for months and findin’ nothin’. You told me your income quadrupled over Christmas and that isn’t slowing. Right now, you got the means to do this and you got someone you trust, someone who knows you and your vision and understands the importance of it to you. Talk to Martha, maybe she’ll be open to takin’ on a new gig. Even if you don’t expand, with how it is out there, you still could use someone doin’ what you do in here so you can get outta here and do what you prefer to do out there.”