Ruth’s POV
Ashton guides me and Serena over to one of the few small round tables that are scattered around the interior, but by the way they look brand new and never touched, I’m assuming that they are only for aesthetic appeal.
“So, do you own this bakery yourself?” Serena asks as she looks at every single fake display cake and the pastries in the display case like she's in some kind of museum.
Ashton shakes his head and chuckles. “No, this is actually my parent’s. I basically got dragged into working here since I have a natural talent for baking, but I enjoy it and the pay isn’t too bad.”
“So, are you the only one working right now?” I question. There doesn’t seem to be any other employees here seeing how quiet it is.
He stops in his tracks and turns to me, almost surprised that I am involving myself in their conversation. “It’s a slow day so there isn’t a need for more people to work. I can handle the place on my own on days like this.” He says nonchalantly and I nod and go sit at the table that he gestures to with Serena following slowly behind me.
He tells us to have a seat while he goes to find a sketch book and colored pencils from the employee office. Once he passes through the swing door and is out of sight, Serena nudges my arm.
“He’s nice,” she whispers, keeping her voice hushed to make sure that Ashton can’t hear her.
Too nice. “I guess.” I don’t like his ‘nice boy’ façade. He acts like a perfect angel with Serena, but every time he looks at me, he turns into a devil observing his eye candy. Pig.
“He’s cute too,” she adds.
I internally groan. Sadly, she’s not wrong about that. I’m a sucker for accents and his beautiful face just adds to his appeal. “I guess,” I repeat, flipping my hair over my shoulder.
“Do you not like him?”
“He just seems like an asshole,” I say, putting more emphasis on ‘asshole’ than needed. “I mean, did you see the way he was ogling at me with that stupid smirk of his? His job is to assist customers, not wink at them.”
“I guess he’s already gotten on your bad side?” Serena chuckles, using her hand to cover her mouth to help mute the sound of her laugh. “I don’t think he’s a bad guy. He’s friendly, but I don’t think he means any harm. Just because you think that the entire male species is an asshole, doesn’t mean that there isn’t room for one non-asshole.”
“Yeah, well I don’t think he’s that one.” Just as I finish my sentence, Ashton pushes through the swing door and walks over to sit at the table with us.
He opens the sketchbook to a blank page before focusing his attention to Serena; completely ignoring me. Why do I have a feeling he heard what I said? “Alright, so what do you have in mind for this cake?” he asks, pulling out a black colored pencil from the slim box and spinning it around his fingers.
Serena pulls out several magazine clippings from her leather purse and spreads them around the table. Each clipping is of wedding cake designs and decorations that she found while brainstorming for ideas. “Well, I want it to be a circle cake, that’s for sure.” She points to one of the clippings with a large, grey fondant covered cake with painted paisleys and swirls on each tier. “And I think I want it to have four tiers.”
I give Serena a perplexed look, unsure as to why she wants her cake so big. There will be less than fifty people at the wedding and if she orders a huge cake that could practically feed an entire homeless shelter, she is going to have a shit ton of leftovers and I don’t want to be the one to have to take half of it home because she knows I will devour all of it in less than a week.
“I don’t think you should make it so big,” I cut in. “There isn’t going to be a lot of people at the wedding, so making a large cake is illogical. Why not three? Maybe just even two tiers? I don’t want you to have to spend more money than needed on a huge cake.” I try to compromise with her.
Ashton glances briefly at me from the corner of his eye and a light curvature of his lips forms. “How about this, I can make a three tier cake for you and charge you the price of a two tier? Your friend here is right about having a large cake. It would be a waste to make one so big that wouldn’t fully be eaten.”
Okay, that’s very generous of him, but that still doesn’t make me like his peachy attitude.
Serena contemplates her options. “Would you still be able to design it the way I want if we do take off a tier?”
“I can make it even better,” he assures, confident in himself.
Oh, you think you’re such a charmer with your persuasive words and generosity? Egotistical bastard.
“Alright. I’ll do that then,” Serena says happily and I roll my eyes at how easy it is for her to make her decision. If we were out eating, she would take at least fifteen minutes to choose a damn entrée.
“Let me go get the sample tiers so you can see how tall it will be. You can look at the sketches that I have in here for any other ideas you may have while you wait.” He pushes his sketchbook to Serena before finally giving me the time of day. “Ruth, will you help me carry them over here?” I thought he could handle the store on his own?
“Sure,” I respond, scooting my chair back and following Ashton to the kitchen.
The kitchen is completely opposite to that of the front of the bakery. White walls and chrome metal counters and appliances fill the room and the sweet scent of pastries is replaced with flour and sugar. It’s a dull environment to work in if you ask me. On the long middle island, a small section of the counter is covered in powdery flour with a piece of rolled-out dough that has several holes cut into it. On the flat pan lined with parchment paper next to the dough, the cut-out pieces are strategically places next to one another filling the entirety of the pan. I guess this is what he was working on when we got here.
I continue to follow Ashton to the back wall of the kitchen to a large storage shelf by one of the conventional ovens. On the shelf are baking pans of various sizes and shapes as well as white Styrofoam and cardboard tier shapes. He reaches up and grabs the largest circle tier and tosses it over to me; my fast reflexes catching it with no trouble.
“So you don’t like me?” Ashton grins to himself while stretching his arm up to the top shelf to grab the next tier. Shit. “You should work on lowering the volume of your whisper, and if you’re going to talk about someone make sure that they are completely out of earshot.” Double shit.
I find extreme interest in the Bundt cake pans as I wait for him to pull down the next tier. I’ve only had two other embarrassing moments prior to this: the time that I burped during a phone interview and when I used ‘your’ instead of ‘you’re’ in an advertisement for an author that I was hired to make for. This just may top both of those right now.
“It’s not nice to call someone an asshole when you don’t even know them,” he adds, tossing down the next tier which lands to the side of me. I bend over and pick it up off the ground, placing it on top of the large on I am holding.
“It’s also not nice to assume that someone is getting married when they’re not even in a relationship,” I deadpan.
He laughs and I have to bite my cheek to keep from laughing with him because it’s so contagious. “I’m pretty sure being called an asshole trumps being mistaken for getting married.” I stay silent, knowing that he’s right which pisses me off. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He teases.
God, he really is an asshole.
“You know, you’re not really helping yourself change my opinion of you,” I say, moving the tiers onto the cold, metal counter.
“I’m only messing with you so calm down, woman.” Ashton brings down the smallest tier and places it in my hands.
“Don’t call me woman.”
“Then don’t call me an asshole.”
We stare at each other, my face stern while his amused. I want to be mad at him, but it’s that goddamn cocky smirk that gets to me. The corners of my lips curve up involuntarily as I try to suppress the need to smile. I cave and end up bursting into laughter which Ashton gets a kick out of.
“Deal.” I agree to his terms. Even if I can’t call him an asshole aloud, I can still think it.
He stares at me, a smirk no longer present but rather a genuine toothy smile on his face. The way he looks right now isn’t that of a jerk. No, he actually looks like a decent person. If he looked like this all the time, maybe I wouldn’t be so harsh on him.
Ashton ends our staring contest. “We better not keep Serena waiting,” he says while lifting the two tiers that I had placed on the counter.
“Did you really even need my help?” Here I am, holding this small, light tier which could easily be placed atop the other two and it would still be easy for one person to carry, and yet he still asked for me to help him.
“Not really. I just wanted to talk to you. Plus, if you didn’t help me, I wouldn’t have been able to hear your laugh.” Even as I face forward as we walk back to the front of the store, I can feel his eyes on me, sending chills down my spine. I ignore him and walk out of the kitchen, placing the tier in my hand on top of the other two as Ashton stacks them on the table in front of Serena. It’s still pretty big and will definitely be too much for the wedding, but at the price that he’s charging, it’s a steal.
Serena stands up from the chair to get a better view of the sample cake. Her smile grows wide and her eyes light up with glee. “This is the perfect size!” she exclaims and I flinch at how loud she is. “I really want to go over a design plan with you right now, but I just got a call from my florist who told me that my mom is trying to change the order so I really need to go clear things up. When can we meet again to go over the design?”
“Come by the shop Thursday morning. I don’t work again until then.” Ashton ambles over to the front counter and grabs two business cards from the stack sitting there and hands one to both of us. “Just give me a call before you come in so that I can get things ready and give us more time to discuss the plan. I also need for you to fill out this form with your contact information so that I can get a hold of you when needed.” He hands Serena a pre-made form that she quickly fills out.
“We’ll see you on Thursday, then,” she smiles brightly and waves him goodbye.
Ashton catches on to what Serena had said and gives me the same ‘I’m a decent person’ look like he did in the kitchen. “I’ll see you then,” he directs to me.
I divert my eyes away from his and give a small smile that practically says, ‘yeah, whatever dude’. The little bell by the door rings as I hold it open for Serena and follow her out of the bakery without looking back. We don’t even get five feet away from the bakery before my phone goes off in my pocket.
I pull it out and look at the new text message from an unknown number. As my eyes scan the words on the screen, there is only one person who I can think of who would say this to me:
“There’s always room for one non-asshole.”
I take the business card that Ashton gave us and read the phone number written on it as well as the one from the unknown number from the text and to my dismay, they match.
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A/N:
I kind of like asshole Ash. And baker Ash. Ashton in general.
So yeah, second chapter woo!! I hope you guys enjoyed it! Please vote, comment, and share this story because I love you and you’re good people :P I’m joking, but it would be nice if you could. I like to hear what you have to say so please give me your thoughts as well as your predictions for the next chapter. Who knows, I might actually incorporate it in the story!
Thank you guys for reading! I love you lots! –Rebecca xoxoxoxoxoxoxo :)