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Cupcake Kissin’ 33 – Alex Ankarr
He’s busier thinking about that, for the first moments, than listening to Sara as they find a little square with public benches to sit in. So she’s well under way by the time he actually begins to tune in to her harangue. ‘…so it’s all your fault, you understand that? I can’t believe it. So you really didn’t sleep with Mack last night? I mean, I’m pretty sure you didn’t, because his mood was in no way improved today, in fact it was pretty damn foul. And I mean a lot worse than usual. I’m not saying he’s an asshole, he doesn’t throw cups or anything – and after the last guy I worked for I can’t tell you how much of a relief that is. But he’s a major-league sulker and glummer when he’s not happy, and he’s pretty much sulking and glumming as an Olympic event right now. Really, you didn’t have sex with him?’
Oh God. Caspar can’t honestly believe he’s putting up with this. It kind of reminds him that he should actually be furious with Laura. She’s just gotten in there ahead of him and stolen his thunder. Anyway, what the heck? What a stupid question, what bee has she got in her bonnet? ‘I really didn’t,’ he replies, and he can hear all of the dryness in his tone.
‘Why not?’ Sara cries, and she’s so exasperated that she throws her hands in the air, which for Caspar is that one little touch of theatricality too far. She’s attracting some attention. Two little old ladies in plush velour coats and cute little woollen hats hear her shrieking, watch her as they pass, and carefully step a little further out of the way.
‘I can’t think that there’s any useful or appropriate answer to that,’ Caspar responds, and what he gets for that kind of impertinence is a cuff around the ear. He moves a little away on the bench, eyeing her carefully and resolving to pay more attention to his answers and her responses.
But she buries her face in her hands, and only does a lot of over-the-top groaning, so he figures his chastisement is over, for now. Then she lifts her head, scrubs at her face and sighs, before he gets a severe look and a poke in the chest. ‘And see where it’s got us, Caspar! You know who blew in from some dumb-ass academic conference this morning? Yeah, our Adam. And he’s just as delightful as ever.’ The roll of her eyes gives away her exact level of sincerity.
‘Not really my problem,’ Caspar says mildly. He’s not going to invite trouble by joining in in any bitchfest about Adam, with Sara. Although it’s certainly interesting that the asshole doesn’t appear to have made himself exactly universally liked, among the people close to Mack.
Sara has a good long laugh at that, and points at him some more. ‘Yeah, I think you’ll find it is, Caspar. Now, if you’d managed to drive a wedge between them, with your cute li’l tush-‘ and here she leans around, does her best to get a good considering look at said tush, ‘then that could have been problem solved, overnight. He’s a temperamental asshole. All it would have taken is him walking in on you the morning after the night before, and he’d have thrown the kind of fit that might have had Mack having the sense to think twice about him. But no, no, you were too god-damn prissy for that. Don’t tell me he didn’t make a move? I’m not going to believe that he didn’t make a move.’ She eyes him with the utmost scepticism, and Caspar feels annoyed. It’s really honestly not her business, he feels, whether or not he has sex with Mack – or anyone, for that matter. It’s not even her business to know if anyone offers.
‘You do know I’ve been dating Sam, right?’ he asks. It’s not exactly a distraction, but it works that way, but it also seems like a relevant point to him.
It seems like maybe Sara didn’t know, though, after all. She just stares incredulously at him for a moment, then sags a bit, flaps her hand at him contemptuously as she looks away. ‘Oh. Right. Well, whatever gets you off, then, honey. However incomprehensible. Okay, not my business, I’m staying out of this from now on,’ she resolves.
‘Glad to hear it,’ Caspar says, possibly a bit snippy.
But Sara’s not done, gives him a little bit more of the old pointy finger. ‘I just don’t want you to go away under the impression that this isn’t your problem. Because, my buddy, you have – in failing to get down with that hunk of man-meat that is my alleged boss – you have made it your problem.’
Caspar looks at her through his fingers, hands over his face and a slight grin. ‘God, you are so awful. Funny, and awful.’
‘So they tell me,’ she says impatiently. ‘Irrelevant. Point being, you have a party to organise, and it’s going to be the shindig to end all shindigs. Which will involve you hanging out, taking deliveries, micromanaging service staff and generally liaising like crazy at Mack’s place. Which will involve seeing an awful lot of Mack. And it will also – since you’ve failed to take care of our little pest-control problem – mean seeing an almost continuous, limitless amount of the fair Adam. A fate I would not wish upon my worst enemy, or even my bitch of a cousin Vanessa. Oh wait, same difference.’
Sara’s smile is triumphant, and more than a little mean. And she’s right, and perhaps Caspar didn’t really think this whole issue through at the time. Perhaps it would have been better to sleep with Adam after all… No. He catches himself up on that quickly.
‘That’s fine,’ he says, glaring at her a little bit. Her smile continues on, impervious. ‘That’s good. I’m sure we’ll all get along just great.’
© Copyright Alex Ankarr 2014
No unauthorised reproductions allowed. All rights reserved to the author. No inspirations for characters drawn from real-life individuals, no resemblance to real individuals intended.