Vanilla Dipped In Chocolate

Chapter 2:Dark Chocolate and Vanilla Frosting

 She batted her eyelids, shaking her head defiantly. “We do well here. No need to give me a tip,” She smiled sweetly, noticing the grey depths of his eyes, feeling flustered as he looked at her. She looked away before he saw the effect he had on her, feeling an unusual feeling; knowing it had to be the one her younger sister described to her in detail. Yes, she was a saint…a totally untouched virgin.

   He noticed a jar next to the cash register and there was a flash of emotion in his eyes. “Uncle, I’m going to wait outside. I need some fresh air,” The girl skipped out of the bakery before he could stop her. She saw a pain in his eyes again then an even weaker smile. “This is a donation jar for the local hospital cancer ward. I like to donate to the hospital in memory of my aunt. She died a few years ago,” She watches as he puts the change into the jar, opens his wallet again stuffing more notes into the jar.

“When do you make these again?” He asked closing his wallet and stuffing it back into his pocket.  She looks away nervously missing his smile-wider this time, reaching the icy depths of his eyes. 

  “I bake them every day. You just have to get here before they all sell out,” She kept her eyes diverted wishing he would leave so she could figure out why he was affecting her like this. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was definitely something there.

  “See you tomorrow then,” Before she can look up again, he is gone leaving her alone in the store with a confused look on her face.

After cleaning and locking up for the day, she hurriedly rushed home to get ready for her brother’s rehearsal dinner, spending the longest time debating which of the dresses to wear. Her closet took up more space than the entire size of her first apartment in New York City. After much hesitation she had settled for a walk in closet in which she had all of her clothing stored. On the right side was her designer clothing while she kept her casual clothes on the left hand side. All of the clothes on the right side were gifts from clients, clients whom she had made wedding cakes for in the last ten years.

   Her tabby cat Jolie sat on top of her turquoise Minolo Blahnik’s purring to her heart’s content. A few years ago after dog Chips had died, her sister had given her one of her kittens to cheer her up. Now the two had grown on each other, and had  a mutual agreement. Everyone would get along fine as long as Cassie left the doggie door open at night so that Jolie could come and go as she please. She knew her cat was getting more midnight loving than she was, but she wasn’t about to go sleep with the idiot losers in her town. She had more self-worth that that.

   “You think I should wear those turquoise shoes tonight Jolie?” She was becoming an old cat lady at twenty nine. She loved her cat but she needed to feel needed. Not just existing as she was doing, she wanted to feel alive. How she was going to survive her brother’s upcoming wedding, she would never know.

   She showered and perfumed, spraying her Bath and Body’s Paris Amore body mist over herself. Spending more time than she had ever spent gussing up, Cassie made herself look like the young, beautiful woman she was. A curvy woman,but still gorgeous. She had the Payne gene pool to thank for that.

  As she slipped into the turquoise hand -painted poncho that she had bought on a whim. Faith, her baby sister had suggested that she buy it to support one of her designer friends. Pairing it with a white pants, her white lacey camisole and her shoes, she was set. She let her long brown hair down, giving it a good brush with her barrel brush. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was going on a date.

  The first person she saw when she arrived at the hotel was her future sister-in-law Leti. The verdict was still going out on Leti. The Payne women were scared that Damon was rushing into another marriage and still hadn’t recovered from the last one. His ex-wife was a leggy New York model who he’d married when he was twenty four, while he had just graduated college. Their marriage had lasted no longer than a snow-cone and they had divorced. But not before he had fathered a child with her. One summer day, she had dropped the baby off at his house and never turned back. A few months later, her jealous lover had gotten into a rage and had killed her, bashing her skull in. Damon never got over her death and had whisked him and his daughter Libbi to Delhi, India  after her fourth birthday.

    “Cassie, you look so beautiful,” The bride-to-be greeted her future sister kissing both of her cheeks. Leti wore traditional Indian wear introducing her to her parents. “Damon is around her somewhere. Last time I saw him he was asking about the cake. Libbi is really excited about the cake so he took her to go see it,” Cassie laughed, knowing her six year old neice probably would’ve kidnapped the entire wedding party if she knew where she could find the cake.

   “I’ll go look for them. Thank you  Leti. Nice meeting you Mr and Mrs Gupta,” She bowed, smiling at the both of them before she departed in the direction of the kitchen. Leti’s family was good friends with the owner of the hotel and his family, who had graciously given them access to the facilities for the wedding and rehearsal dinner. The hotel was beautiful. The Alice was one of the most popular hotels on the West Coast and with good reason. It was a five star resort.

    She entered the kitchen quietly, seeing no sign of her brother and neice. She noticed the cake sitting on the serving tray in the middle of the kitchen and smiled. They had outdone themselves sticking to Leti’s specific instructions well.

     “Miguel, the Payne/Gupta party is here. You can take it out to them now,” She hears a familiar voice hiding behind the wall watching the two men. The one who was talking had his back to her but he spoke firmly but politely to the pastry chef. The other man obliged wheeling the cake out of the kitchen, not noticing Cassie in the shadows.

      She hears the footsteps coming closer and she leaned against a nearby shelf wedged between the wall and a supply closet, trying  to get out of my spot when the footsteps reside, but too late to say herself from a tin falling out of the cupboard .

 “ARE YOU OKAY?” That voice asks demanding and shouting. The sticky feeling of the liquid oozes from her hair and down her face, staining her poncho. There is no way in hell she could clean up and get out to join her family without them causing a spectacle of this. She’d never live this down.

  She looks up into the steel grey eyes of the man from the bakery. Dressed in an Armani suit which moulds itself to his large frame. “I’m okay. Can you help me up please?” She groans as he helps her up, hiding his amusement.

  “What is this on me?” She asks knowing it could be anything.

He reaches out his finger to her cheek then pops his finger in his mouth licking it.

 “Vanilla frosting,” He lets a laugh slip out as he tastes it again.

He laughs again looking at the serious expression on my face.

“Now if you’re done sampling me, would you please tell me where I can get cleaned up?” She asks folding her arms in front of her chest. Such a prick… if it wasn’t for him she would’ve never hidden.

 “Follow me,” He takes her hand leading her to a service elevator.

“Where are we going?” She asks scared. She knew what happened to people who went into elevators with weird white men. They usually ended up on the news.

 “To my place,” He said in finality pressing the button for his penthouse suite.