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Cupcake Kissin’ 43 – Alex Ankarr
Caspar doesn’t really find it all that amusing. Maybe a little bit, but also a little bit sad. The note, after all, did not declare undying love nor any intention of breaking up with asshole Adam. ‘Who knows,’ he says, and scowls into the pyramid of cakes he’s standing on the customer side of the Honey Bunny counter, before he heads out. There’s a lull and Sandy is smirking and eyeballing him from the other side, occasionally making lewd gestures with her tongue that probably contravene health and hygiene regulations. ‘Probably just apologising. Making himself feel more comfortable about misbehaving slightly. That much we can identify for sure.’
‘I don’t know, I don’t know,’ Sam muses, but Caspar doesn’t have time for this.
‘I’m taking the running menu to the apartment tomorrow. Make sure your middle-level boss isn’t late, I need her to sign off. And if you’ve told her anything, then I’m going to kill you,’ he says.
At Mack’s apartment, Sara knows everything – or at least, she knows as much as Sam knows – and Sam is a dead man. It might just take Caspar a little while to arrange it. He has his hands pretty much full these days, after all. It’s a lot more than her usual level of sly amusement, and he has trouble setting the table-cloth swatches in the appropriate pigeon-hole in Mack’s home office for his perusal later on. She won’t leave hold, and she won’t let go, and she won’t stop sniffing at him.
‘He hasn’t marked me, Sara, we’re not werewolves or anything. You read way too much paranormal romance,’ he says, as calm as he can manage it. ‘You make sure he looks at those swatches, time is ticking on. Now I’m out of here, I’ve got to – ‘
‘Do you think he’s really going to break up with Adam?’ Sara asks, following closely behind him. ‘Do you think you could make him? If I thought it would make Adam break up with him then I’d just spill the beans about your little fun druggy times up there in the rumpus room, but there’s no way Adam’s going to let his hooks out of a genuine legit celebrity. Even if he puts the show down every damn chance he gets. Hey, maybe we should be making Mack jealous. Neither me nor Sam have said a dicky bird about the two of you breaking up, we couldn’t decide if it was tactically advantageous or not. You know, we could work with that. We should work with that. That would be the next step that might elbow Mack over the edge of his havering about whether to stick with what he’s got or take a chance on– ‘
‘It’s the next step that I won’t be taking, Sara,’ Caspar says firmly. Because there is a limit, and there are things he won’t put up with even from Sara, who he really very much likes. Stupid dumb-ass rom-com tropes about making a guy jealous by pretending to be into another guy when it’s all just one sneaky underhanded Machiavellian manoeuvre is definitely one of the things that’s a no-no.
So of course, a couple of days later, he’s on the soap set making a delivery, and then he’s sitting on Sam’s knee in public, with an audience including Mack. He feels, even at the time, that he really should have predicted this outcome.
It’s not like it’s the first time he’s made a phoned-in delivery on-set, for other shows than Mack’s, even. They’re close to the studio, but sometimes Sara doesn’t feel like picking up her cakes and caffeine list, and sometimes she’s too busy. Sometimes the same applies to Sam, too. And since he and Sam broke up… (If you can call it that, for some very casual friendly dating. Considering they’re still kind of friends. Also considering they made out – yes – the other night after they’d both had a couple of beers. Caspar suspects that was because Sam was a little turned on by the thought of him having made out with Mack. But he doesn’t judge. He was a little turned on by the ghostly presence of the thought himself. Or the ghostly presence of Mack, maybe. His charisma bleeds over even when he isn’t around.) But yes, they are more than technically broken up, so Sam has less incentive than he might have had previously (even with his self-admitted ulterior motives) to make reason to visit Honey Bunny’s. Especially when Caspar is baking, or not on counter shift.
And Sam doesn’t have an assistant. (Yet.) So yes, it’s not a first for Honey Bunny’s to deliver, though it ‘s not official policy. Not even for Caspar to be the one to deliver. (Mucking in and getting his hands dirty. Or covered with cookie dough. It’s heavily implied, and at points explicit, in the clauses and terms of his bequest.)
Just not since beginning to date (or ‘date’) Sam, that’s all. Not when Mack has been around, or up so close at least. Not doing more than making a quick drop-off and scribbling out a written invoice.
He doesn’t get to do anything quite so simple this time, though. Getting past security is a breeze. He knows Andreas, the head-officer, by now, and is waved in. (After some obligatory flirting. Andreas isn’t gay – to the best of Caspar’s knowledge. It doesn’t seem to stop him, in a handsy and very terrifying way.) Then he’s dumping two baskets and a to-go cardboard pack of coffees in the craft area, but he doesn’t get to make the quick getaway he had planned. (Because he is a little bit tense, because the adrenalin is zinging through him like it’s going to ping right out of his veins and splatter the craft table.)
No, Sam is way too quick. Caspar was quite careful not to alert him to Caspar’s imminent on-set presence. (Not that he doesn’t trust Sam by now, except in all the ways he doesn’t.) But Sam seems sensitized to home in on Caspar wherever he goeth. Like, here.
© 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.