The Cupcake Theory

43) The Last Cupcake

43) The Last Cupcake

There are many reasons why I like working at a cupcake shop; discounts on products, you get to eat the extra batter at the end of the day, you pretty much smell like a bakery when you get home but on the top of the list is the blowtorch.

I'm currently working on the lemon meringue cupcakes which I'm very tempted to take a bite out of. Maybe they won't notice a few cupcakes missing.

Tiffany pokes her head around the corner. "Hey Mackenzie I think you can leave early today as there isn't much left to do." My suspicions are raised when she gives me a cheeky smile, she knows something that I don't. "Also somebody out the front wants to see you."

It's probably Zoe trying to get free baked goods from me. She does this so often I'm surprised she hasn't gotten diabetes yet.

I focus back on piping out more meringue; they can wait until the end of my shift to get food. "Tell them to go away. I'm kind of busy at the moment finishing off the cupcakes"

I can hear voices in the background chatting away, I'm fairly sure I can hear my name being mentioned. This time she steps into the kitchen with her arms crossed and chin held high. There is no way I'm getting what I want.

"The cupcakes can wait. The person out the front is very persistent about you leaving and going with them, apparently it's urgent."

Setting my utensils down, I go over to the sink to wash my hands.

"If it was urgent they would have already kicked down the back door and filled the kitchen with a SWAT team," I say over my back "Or would have at least pretended to set a fire in Kmart to lure me out. Does nobody put effort into scheming and relationships anymore?"

"I think she's giving you the okay to come in," Tiffany yells.

As I dry my hands, Sam walks into the back area in awe like he's never seen a kitchen before.

"Woah it's so shiny in here," his eyes wander over the metal bench, the giant mixing machine and the extremely large oven you could probably fit a small child into. He stops when he sees the cupcakes on the bench in front of me.

"Who decided that giving you a blow torch and all these other pointy objects was a good idea? I didn't know baking was such a dangerous hobby."

I can't tell if he's being concerned or sarcastic.

I flick the switch so the small flame starts to burn and lower it down to the meringue on top of the cupcake. The white foam turns a satisfying golden caramel colour.

When I raise the torch it barely misses the tip of Sam's hair. I can imagine his hair going up in flames because of the amount of product he uses.

He takes a step back, putting space between him and the portable fire. "Please don't singe off my eyebrows, I enjoy looking like I'm human and have emotions."

"Don't worry. I'd still mildly like you if you had no eyebrows. Plus you already express your emotions through your eyes; like right now you're saying please don't kill me I want to live until dinner." I hang my apron up on the hook and make my way back to Sam who is cutting fondant with what looks like a play-doh cutter. Where did he get that from?

"Not that it's not nice to see you but what are you doing here?"

He takes a step towards me, locking his arms around my hips and pulling me closer, "We were going to go out for dinner after work. Remember?" Of course I don't remember. When I see his smile the exhaustion and stress from today quickly melts away.

I nervously laugh; I knew I had something to get ready for. This was probably it "Yeah of course. Oh look at the time, I wasn't expecting you to come this early so we'll just need to go home and grab some-"