All I Want...

It's been a long day. I've been on my feet for the better part of fourteen hours with waves of heat beating down on the back of my neck like a drum. All I want to do now is tear into this brown paper bag and eat my dessert like an animal.

Pearl's is the best bakery in a hundred miles. Expensive as all get-out, but sometimes I like to buy a little treat and pretend I'm Mr. Fancypants. When I open the thin plastic container, I can't help but admire it. The sponge is dark chocolate with a milk chocolate swirl, glimmering like a dark geode. The layers are separated by a delicately airy milk chocolate mousse. It's why they keep it refrigerated, but cold cake is better than any room temperature offering, if you ask me. The frosting is a similarly dark ganache with pinstripes of white chocolate that's been flavored with orange rind and Cointreau. Sometimes I wish I could order this cake like I order a burger. Extra everything!

I move to stab my fork into the rear of the piece, eating it from the back to the point, the center where the sponge is moistest. Before my fork can even glance at the ganache I hear three strong knocks at my door. I take a deep breath as I'm pulled away from the capstone of my day by an unexpected visitor. Through the peephole I can see it's my brother, Martin, so I swing the door open.

"Hey, can I borrow your car tomorrow?"

He's quick, all business, though he probably needs it for leisure. I don't mind. My plans for tomorrow are sleeping in and a long steamy shower. Maybe laundry.

"Yeah," I say quietly. "Keys are next to the fridge."

He rushes past me into the kitchen to grab the keys from the rack on the wall, but comes to a screeching halt when he sees my dining room table adorned with a slice of Pearl's triple chocolate cake. His eyes are lustful and his lips greedy. Without even asking, he stabs my fork into the back and takes a whopper of a bite. I'm only slightly annoyed, but at least he didn't eat the point.

With the cake pushed to one side of his mouth he thanks me with a firm fist bump and leaves with a quickness. I take a deep breath in and slowly let it out before heavily dropping myself back into the chair to enjoy my reward to myself.

This time I actually manage to make contact with the delicately moist sponge before another knock at the door, soft and rhythmic. My stomach growls with dissatisfaction as I heed the rapping. It's an elderly gentleman with a young lady by his side; maintenance workers for the apartment complex. I had forgotten they said they would be stopping by. I'm probably their last for the day before they also call it quits. They're only here because I have a nasty habit of tapping my coffee grounds from the K-cup down the drain instead of in the trash. My dad always said it would clog the sink, but I haven't weaned myself off the motion. At least the air conditioner isn't broken.

I can see the young lady targeting my cake for assassination. It's very uncomfortable for me to watch someone eyeball my food, but I tell her, as they finish, that she can have a bite, seeing as how most people in our line of work don't get luxuries like Pearl's often.

It was then that my worst fear came to pass. The nightmare my brother knew to avoid made itself real. With reckless abandon and gleeful delight, jowls almost dripping with anticipation, this ignorant young lady stole the point of the cake. The dark, shimmering oasis that was to be my final bite blinks out of existence. She smiles with her mouth full, eyes almost rolling in the back of her head from the ecstasy. I am stunned, unable to move. My muscles burn with anguish.

Only minutes after the door closes behind them do I manage to move. I sit in the chair, a defeated man. My lips tremble as I scooped up a fresh bite of delicacy. The sharp, bitter taste of the dark chocolate ganache brought my tongue to life. The richness and subtle orange flavor of the white chocolate stripes dance across my fancy. The sponge was so moist, it's flavor so perfectly balanced, that I wouldn't dare eat it with a glass of milk and destroy this confectioners conjuration.

A single tear rolls down my cheek, and my lips curl up into a smile.