A Sweet Release

It was so hypnotic it was downright sexy. Through the glass, Chad watched the chef put the final touches on her masterpiece. The icing was ornate, with dozens of flowers and vines sculpted in white and dark chocolate. They climbed and roamed over the three layers crowning in a thorny apex at the top that was so complicated he wondered just how much of it was edible. It looked glorious. So much so, that he wanted to rip into it and devour the whole thing. Displays like that were pastry lingerie: Pretty wrapping paper, but you just wanted to claw through it to get to what was inside. In this place, for Chad anyway, that was a pretty appropriate analogy.

He turned away from the spectacle and back to the rest of the café. It was exactly the way he remembered it. The tables were the same, still spread out with that deep cherry wood finish. It played off the light brown of the walls, stark against the white tablecloths and serviettes. The linens might have been different, but seven years had passed. A few hundred thousand chocolate faces had probably been cleaned on those napkins. The glass case was where it had been, the only difference the four laughing women peering inside. They were draped in pink feather boas and skirts so short that bending over held considerable risk. The prettiest of them though, she was always the prettiest, wore a sash that read ‘bride’.

The wedding was two weeks away, and somebody had the bright idea to schedule the cake tasting during the bachelorette party.

Chad snorted at the thought.

Screw that, there was no way he was missing out on cake. Especially on the cake Crazy Rachel made. So here he was. Again.

What his new bride didn’t know, what he really didn’t want her to know, was he’d enjoyed the sexy chef-owner as much as the desserts. Yes, with amazing cake in one hand, and bone-rattling sex in the other, this place had it all. Sometimes, he remembered mischievously, you could even put your hands together…

With the good came the bad though, and after that relationship came the worst breakup of his life. A little gossip, a hint of revenge, and next time he’d tried to eat here Rachel had chased him off with a cake knife. Now he called her ‘Crazy’ Rachel. Well, he’d been denied enough. After seven years, and getting a smoking hot fiancée, he was finally ready to have his cake and eat it too.

Behind him, a woman was just flicking the sign to ‘closed’. Without a word, she herded the laughing women from the room, Chad slinking along behind the pack. The event room was closed off behind the café, and they drifted in to see the table made up for the occasion. Vividly, Chad remembered another fun time in this room… and on these chairs… and on that table. His face perked up in a smirk at the naughty memory. If they were going to eat off of it, he really hoped they’d cleaned it right.

There were five chairs at the table opposite the buffet with three cakes for sampling. As he took a seat, he glanced about in vain for Rachel. Evidently, she’d decided to avoid him by not showing. That was fair enough, she didn’t have to be here. Besides, he knew it would be hard for her seeing him so happy with another woman. On his end, he wouldn’t have to dodge a rolling pin or paring knife thrown by a disgruntled fuck-buddy. Everyone was happy!

Bryn was laughing at a saucy joke from her bridesmaid, when someone said the word ‘champagne’. Instantly it was figuratively on their lips, with talk of making it literal, even Chad perking up in his chair. Quickly, the four girls scuttled from the room to retrieve it. They swept out leaving Chad alone with a broad smile on his face and pleasant memories. There was champagne too? This day kept getting better. Just as he was settling in, ready to be simultaneously liquored and sugared to satisfaction, his plans fell apart.

Standing in the doorway, looking with every thread the fantasy she was, Rachel had appeared. As good as his memories were, she looked better. She was athletic, her body tempered by the gym and far better shaped than a pastry chef’s had any right to be. Her skin was ivory, her hair a fitting chocolate brown, styled in a vintage sort of way. The starkest part of her were her lips. Done up with bright red lipstick, they burst forth with color against her pale skin. Combined with the brown polka-dot dress that draped her sultry form, she could have been from the pages of a 1940s pin-up. She stood there holding an elaborate chocolate cake dabbled with red, her eyes searching the empty room in confusion. They stopped when they fell on Chad.

The eyes narrowed.

“They’re just getting champagne.”

Without a word, she glided past him to the buffet and set the cake down beside it’s three brothers. Chad watched her move, the view from behind as good as the front.

“So… How have you been?”

She glared at him over her shoulder.

“Fine.”

“You look… uh…”

She ignored him, turning the cake in place. Streaks of red icing sizzled through the chocolate, the whole thing looking volcanic.

“Is that devil’s food?”

“Anything you eat is devil’s food.”

“Oh come on Rachel,” He smiled. “What do you want me to do?”

“Apologize.”

“Don’t be that way…”

She spun with the words to stab with her eyes.

“How should I be?” She asked curtly.

“Nostalgic would be nice.” He charmed, falling into old habits. “I was just thinking back to some good times we had in here. I know you remember.”

For a moment nothing happened. That angel’s face masking the crazy just stayed hard, hating him. But then came something amazing. It started slow and spread fast, her mouth tilting into a crook of a smile. Those red lips came together and her eyes began to shine. She crossed her slender arms over her chest, the fabric tightening against the curves underneath.

“I remember.”

Chad felt a flush. He grinned, suddenly wondering how far he could go.

“Me too.”

“That was fun. You know what else I remember?”

Oh damn!

“When you dropped that bag of mice by the dumpster.”

With a jolt, his brain did a complete 360, conjuring up the image of him at midnight dumping the vermin in the garbage. He’d called the inspector the next day but somehow the place had still gotten a clean bill of health.

His face contorted with conversational whiplash.

“Oh, well…”

“It took me a week to kill them all.”

“Yeah…”

“Had to use half a bottle of rat poison to do it.” She went on, her smile still in place. “But that’s okay.”

She took a step nearer and leaned in towards him. From down the hallway came Bryn’s riotous laughter, and Chad hurriedly moved closer. He didn’t know where this was going, but he wanted the privacy to find out. He stretched up from his chair as Rachel leaned in. Just as the girls returned she whispered in his ear. She still had that sweet sultry voice, but this time his blood ran cold.

“I put the other half in one of the cakes.”

The slice came down delicately in front of him, the china making barely a whisper against the table. To Chad it hit like an anvil. He stared at it, looking delicious, his stomach turning over and boiling. It was the deep brown chocolate cake he’d seen her bring in, a sliver of blood red through the center. He just stared and stared. Beside him, he faintly heard the clinking of forks on porcelain as the girls dug in. Soon the clinking mingled with happy almost carnal noises as they tasted the flavour. Chad just stared.

An elbow jabbed him in the ribs.

Beside him, Bryn looked incredulous as his cake sat untouched. She knew his sweet tooth. He glanced down at her plate, noting half her slice was already missing.

Oh, God…

For a moment he nearly ran out. Nearly screamed it was poison, heimliched the cake out of his bride to be and got the hell out of there. Instead he took his fork and cut a tiny sliver of his slice. The kind of bite Gandhi or a dieting supermodel would take. If he ran out now, he’d have to explain their sordid history to Bryn, in front of her friends, at her bachelorette party no less. The fork came up under his nose, the wonderful scent making his mouth water. Across from him, he watched Rachel smiling wide in expectation. This had to be a cruel joke. Virtually in slow motion, he lifted the bite into his mouth.

The cake was so moist, the chocolate rich. It swirled around his tongue, the perfect consistency he remembered from years ago. The red turned out to be raspberry. It exploded in a tart accent to the rest adding to the magic. It was undeniably delicious, but the whole time he was chewing he was watching Rachel. She stood there eyeing him chew with a calculated smile. He half expected to choke and keel over at any second.

“How is it?”

He swallowed.

“…It's ok.”

The girls laughed, throwing their heads back at his understatement. They used words like ‘sublime’, ‘amazing’, he even heard ‘orgasm’ at one point.

Without a seconds’ pause, Rachel took the second cake from the buffet and began cutting slices. As her knife moved, Chad was running the debris of the cake across his tongue looking for anything unusual. What did rat poison taste like? What was that stuff?! Yellow pellets, usually. They smelled a little like almonds, but how would they taste?

The second slice dropped down, again with barely a whisper. More chocolate cake, this one’s icing was made up with gold spots, like a reverse leopard. Again, a tiny bite. The tastes were of chocolate, coffee and a burn. A strong burn.

Chad felt himself growing pale. He felt the sting on the back of his throat, ready to heave onto the table, his brain scrambling to identify the heat.

It has to be a joke…

Chilli powder.

The girls made their happy noises.

The next cake was pale, with a caramel drizzle. He lifted it up, seeing Rachel’s eyes on him. The fork hovered under his nose, he picked up the faint smell of almonds…

The fork clattered to the table.

“Rachel, I am so sorry for what I did…”

The apology was genuine, but he never got to finish it. Bryn had burst out laughing.

“I knew it!” She exclaimed. “I knew you’d break! We got ya!”

Chad wheeled in surprise, then back to Rachel, now laughing herself. With a flippant attitude she walked over and snatched up his cake, taking a big bite. From around the room, all the girls were laughing and pointing, the prank laid bare. He slumped down into his chair, his stomach a hurricane. As the mocking went on, he folded sourly wondering if could ever face a cake again.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

A lot more cake and champagne later, Rachel helped load a still queasy-looking Chad into the van. The man utterly defeated by the night’s events. Bryn ran up and embraced her, thanking her for everything she’d done. Rachel walked back inside and began to clean up, bussing dishes from the table. At the end of the buffet the last cake remained there, forgotten in the jubilation. It was just as well.

Rachel picked it up. The intricate chocolate swirls were there, but the cake smelled strongly of almonds.

Devil’s food.

Without a second thought, she flipped the whole cake into the garbage and continued cleaning. An apology was an apology.