Crumbling Cakes

Part XX (20)

Time was inching closer to our first stop on the holiday train and all has been quiet on the creepo front. It's been unnerving and relieving at the same time. I knew they were out there, just waiting. But at least I didn't have to look at them and they weren't touching me.

Another lovely surprise came from a new companion. Blake had stopped by earlier in the week to pester Sebastian, apparently, he missed his bromance partner. And of course, come to tease me because he couldn't live if he wasn't poking at someone. I was happy to see that I was forgiven for ditching out mid-get together and he used it as leverage for a round two. I couldn't be certain, but I was convinced Ronaldo would pull me along to number two anyway. Something that made me ridiculously happy.

And speaking of the devil, as I went along my day doing what I must, Ronnie popped up for one of his fun interrogations.

"What are you doing?" Sebastian asked as I caught his lazy stroll to my side from the corner of my eye.

"I'm taking inventory of our stock," I replied before I looked up at him, batting my lashes. "Unless you prefer I simply dump the rest into the trash. You know, since I'm prone to tossing it on the floor."

Sebastian stared at me with a narrowed gaze. "No, thanks. We can leave it where it is. I'm sure it's safe so long as you don't touch it." He bit back his smile while he teased, putting his best-bored face forward. I squinted at him, trying to fight my own pulling lips, urging him to give it up.

"Why do you keep cornering me in the pantry?" I slow blinked for emphasis.

"Because then you can't run away, Short Stack. Small room, one exit, and I just so happen to be blocking it. No chance of you slipping by when you're trying to avoid a question."

"Don't be so sure. I'm quite crafty when I need to be."

He snorted and leaned forward a bit, head in a slight tilt. "I bet that you are. I'm still convinced I could stop you."

I shifted. Suspecting this conversation was going south, in a naughty way. Images of resting against his arm at the bar flashed before my eyes. Regret, are you there yet? The answer was no, my amigos. "Behave, this isn't a game." My finger wagged in warning.

"Life's a game. And I have to say, I'm quite good at winning it." His voice lowered. So he keeps telling me. My neck became uncomfortably warm, the sensation driving me to sway his way. I couldn't fight the suspicion that we weren't talking about work tasks anymore. Cryptic Sebastian just keeps on being cryptic.

I cleared my throat, reaching for any sense of decorum. "I'm not surprised you excel at games, you grew up with Blake. He's a crash course in survival. But back to why you're blocking the exit." I motioned with the pen, indicating he should carry on.

Sebastian straightened out, eyes refocusing. "Right, I need you to stay an extra hour tonight to help me with the batter for the 'fun' October special order." Right, the many, many single-serve Halloween cakes that got picked off the idea board. He has one of those by the way. And let me tell you, he was still not sold on the idea; his air quotes a dead giveaway. It was a group vote, he was voted off the island.

I blinked. He blinked. I opened my mouth to speak. I closed my mouth. This went on for several seconds. Was he high? Did he want to start from scratch about six times? Was this afternoon just a distant memory for him? 

My joke from earlier wasn't exactly unfounded, I mean I'm the reason why he had to stay late to begin with... sort of. It was a shame, things had been going swimmingly. Then I knocked over the first batter batch...it wasn't a moment I was proud of. I spent two hours trying to scrub away the slippery feel off the floor so that no one could add injury to insult.