Sugar

by Karin Kallmaker

  They found the bed, eventually, and the soft, crisp linens seemed to cool them a bit. They grew languid and sensual with touches meant to tease. Sugar pulled Emily to her, reflecting that she felt every sexual desire with Emily that had been so absent with Tree.

  "We haven't discussed a bit of business," Emily said with a laugh. Her fingertips smoothed along Sugar's shoulder blades as Sugar collapsed limply onto the pillows again. "I'm starting to think if we don't between fucks we never will."

  Sugar giggled. "I know what you mean." Her body was getting closer to satisfaction, but every time it seemed like they were both replete, something would set them off again. Emily's fingertips were like magic. "What do we need to discuss?"

  "A million things." Emily rose to her knees, giving Sugar a wonderful view of the pleasures she abruptly realized she'd love to taste again. "Because we're filming the competition I've had reason to talk to all the judges and the organizers in the last week. And I have to admit I wasn't above creating a little bit of buzz for the unknown culinary artist who created Cake Dreams. I'm not sure that you'll win, but I can guarantee you'll be seriously considered."

  "Wow." Sugar didn't quite know how to respond. She wanted to win the prize based on her talent, but she also knew how such

  >

  events worked. Only those who were thought to be "in the run¬ning" before the competition even began would get serious notice. Based on that reality she had almost not entered. She needed some big names on her client list to be noticed. "Thank you. You really didn't have to do that."

  Emily leaned forward and her loose, silky red hair swept over Sugar's back. "I know. As soon as I said you were one of the stories we'd follow with cameras it was pretty much assured you'd be a finalist. You deserve to be. Your work is amazing, easily equal to the established names. I have to admit it kills two birds with one stone. By us creating buzz for you, they're going to work a little harder, making for a better competition and a better story."

  Sugar hadn't thought of that. Really, she was just a baker at heart. Machinations on Emily's level weren't beyond her, they were just of little interest to her. "I promise to do my absolute best. Do you know if the guidelines we got are strictly adhered to?" Emily's hair was teasing the backs of her thighs now and she wanted to melt.

  "How do you mean?"

  "Well, they said that the finished entry had to feed no more than forty."

  "They're dead serious about that. Magnitude won't win it. They're looking for a realistic event dessert of high quality, not an eleven-tier monstrosity. What were you thinking of doing?"

  Sugar rolled over and caught Emily's hair in her hands. Emily's mouth parted as Sugar pulled her gently down for a kiss. Sugar swore she could see sparks flickering in the air between them as hands slipped between thighs.

  It was several minutes before Sugar answered Emily's question. "I was thinking of the base being a vintage placemat, five squares down and eight across, plainly serving forty. Each square would be a different Seattle landmark decorated flat, so hand drawn. I've got a photo of a placemat I want to copy."

  "Okay." Emily sounded skeptical. "So it would be retro Sixties?"

  "Yes, red borders with black lines. The landmark drawings would be very intricate, like the main facade at Pike's Market. I'd only have to do about twenty of them because of what's sitting on the placemat, waiting to be consumed."

  "Oh, that's starting to get interesting. So what is it?"

  "Since the big coffee outfit is a sponsor, I thought I'd use their corporate colors to create a cup and saucer—"

  "Oh, good, that's brilliant."

  "And it would appear to contain a signature cappuccino of theirs. It would be accompanied by a large slice of luscious-looking cake—the scale is about three times normal. So cutlery next to the plates, a napkin with full texture of course, and how could I resist a sugar packet on the saucer decorated with my own corporate logo?"

  "Oh, that would be ... I mean it sounds like exactly something they would order themselves for a high-level corporate party. It's imaginative, detailed, very Seattle with the landmarks." Emily pushed up to one elbow to gaze into Sugar's eyes. "And it kisses up without being explicitly kiss-up."

  "I don't think of it as kissing up so much as if they ordered a cake from me, that's what I'd give them."

  "Wow." Emily leaned over to kiss her. "When are you going to start work on it?"

  "Shopping tomorrow. Boiling up fondant on Saturday. Baking layers will happen on Sunday, but I also have a cake to make for a client due Monday—for the firefighter, Charlie."

  "Oh?"

  Sugar quickly explained the scene with her landlord and Charlie's intervention. Picturing Charlie's long, tall body and laughing eyes was not the reason she arched under Emily's hand. "So it's a thank-you. I'll have all day Tuesday and Wednesday to sculpt and work on the fondant decorations."

  "Mmm," Emily murmured. "Some thank-you. Oh, look at that." Her mouth captured Sugar's hardening nipple.

  Sugar closed her eyes, fighting a sudden confusion. She and

  Emily were having a fabulous time. Business and pleasure had never mixed so well. They'd make a great team, with Emily's acumen and Sugar's talent. Emily had a reputation for spotting unknowns. Had she bedded any of them along the way? The thought was unworthy because it was none of her business, really. Emily's teeth grazing her stomach was what mattered.

  With a sound of disbelief she arched again to Emily's mouth. She wanted more, again, and Emily showed no signs of being the least bit tired. Would Emily want her if she weren't a project need¬ing her help? Then she remembered Emily meeting her at the doorway, and the hard, quick passionate encounter with the door still open, everything forgotten except how much she wanted Sugar. Emily did want her, and had since they'd danced at that club, grinding pelvises in what had then been uncharacteristic abandon for Sugar.

  They were grinding together now, Emily's voice urging Sugar on. Legs shivering, her body trembling, Sugar yielded to the pleasure of Emily's tongue dancing over her aching flesh. Emily's fingers found, with increasing expertise, the right places to stroke. It felt so good that Sugar was surprised to experience that earlier flash of fear all over again. She was going to explode and she wasn't sure she'd survive. It was a ridiculous fear, she'd survived the first time, she told herself. Don't think, feel.

  Emily's coo of response as Sugar rose to meet her thrusting fin¬gers pushed Sugar over the edge. Her legs gave out and Emily melted next to her with a sighing laugh.

  Sugar knew Emily was saying something but abruptly there was nothing in the world that could make her open her eyes. Emily's voice got farther and farther away.

  The next thing Sugar was aware of was a harsh blaring noise that suddenly ceased, then Emily's voice saying, "God, I don't want to go to work today."

  Shaking herself from sleep proved difficult. "I wish you didn't

  either, because I can think of things I'd like to do more of. That is, after I visit the potty and brush my teeth."

  Emily's chuckle sounded drowsy. "I know what you mean. But I've got an early meeting with the station manager. This week has been hellacious, and next week will be even more so."

  They did agree it would save time to shower together, and after a delightful, heart-pounding fifteen minutes, they emerged clean, and even more wobbly-legged. Wearing Emily's robe she dashed outside for her overnight bag and got dressed in the downstairs bathroom.

  Sugar quickly made them an omelet with spinach and mush¬rooms while Emily produced delectable fully caffeinated coffee. She chattered about the shooting schedule for the contest and asked numerous questions about when Sugar would do what and if her grandmother's kitchen would work as a studio. "I'll have to come and see it, won't I, but I really don't think I can do that until Sunday at least."

  Sugar nodded as she gobbled up her share of the breakfast. She felt absolutely hollow. "That'll give me time to make sure my grandmother is okay with all of this. It's more than she
agreed to."

  Emily's eyebrows rose as if to say Sugar's grandmother's reac¬tions were the least of her concerns. "I'm sure she'd be happy to put up with a little inconvenience. We'll have her in a shot or two, if she'd like that."

  Sugar wasn't sure Gran would. Frowning, she said, "I think she'll be okay with it, but she's a busy woman herself and it will be inconvenient."

  "We'll make it worth her while somehow," Emily said blithely.

  Sugar supposed Emily would not be as successful as she was if she didn't presume all difficulties could be resolved one way or another.

  Emily reached for her hand. "Last night was incredible, Sugar. Absolutely amazing. It's been a really long time since I have felt like that with anybody."

  Sugar blushed. "Me, too."

  "I'm free Saturday night if you'd like to .. . stay over again?"

  "I'd love to."

  "You know," Emily said, her eyes growing even brighter, "maybe we could film your segments here? We've filmed here before. Then you'd be out of your grandmother's way."

  "That could work," Sugar agreed. "Though if I'm here I'm not going to get much work done."

  "When it comes to business, I can keep my hands off you," Emily assured her.

  "Like last night?" Sugar grinned as Emily flushed.

  "There was no reason to leave you alone last night."

  "I'm teasing," Sugar said. She dropped a kiss on Emily's fore¬head as she carried her dishes to the sink. "Should we take care of these before you leave?"

  "No, someone comes in on Fridays, and we can leave them." Emily sighed. "I really have to go or I'll be late."

  Sugar picked up her overnight bag. "Saturday night will be nice if we can spend some time together in the morning before I start baking again." Even though they'd managed to talk about their lives somewhat, most of their time together had again been spent making love.

  "I promise," Emily said. They went out the back door together, shared another heated, desirous kiss at Sugar's car and parted com¬pany with wistful backward glances.

  Her shopping list for the coming weeks' extensive baking still on the passenger seat, Sugar decided to detour to the restaurant-supply outlet before heading home. By the time she walked in the door at Gran's, laden with a box of dyes, baking sheets and pans, she could smell the first of Gran's baking day well in progress, but there was no sign of her grandmother.

  "Gran?"

  "In my bedroom, dear. I think you must be in the knick of time."

  Sugar found her grandmother sitting on the little vanity chair in front of the bathroom mirror. She was unusually pale and her hands were shaking. "Are you okay?"

  "Well, I think so, but I am having an extra hard time today get¬ting to my feet. It's quite upsetting."

  "Let me help, then."

  "Yes, please." Leaning heavily on Sugar, her grandmother slowly stood. "I hadn't realized how much I'd already gotten used to your being my legs. Baking this morning seemed to take me for¬ever, and when I got back here I didn't know if I could get up again."

  "I hope there's a surgical opening soon, Gran. I really do." Visions of walking into the house to find her that her grandmother had fallen and badly hurt herself danced through Sugar's head.

  "Yes, yes, you're right." They made their way slowly to the kitchen. "I shouldn't have been so stubborn about using that walker. I was going to get it this morning but I didn't think I'd manage the steps in the garage."

  "Let me get it," Sugar offered. In just the week since she'd arrived, it was obvious Gran's condition had worsened signifi¬cantly. She'd had no business lollygagging on the way home, dithering over tints and baking molds. "I'll just put it next to the table."

  Gran looked less pale when Sugar returned, and Sugar felt a pang for the older woman's fearful morning. How long had she been sitting there, Sugar wondered, afraid to try to get up? Thank goodness there hadn't been anything in the oven. Gran might have tried to get up if she'd heard a timer. Sugar realized she might have to postpone more overnight stays at Emily's, or simply plan on get¬ting home much, much earlier.

  "So how was your evening, Sugar?" Gran looked up from peel¬ing peaches.

  Sugar knew she was blushing. "Fun. We had paella for dinner."

  Gran grinned at her, suddenly looking years younger. "Oh, isn't your face a picture!"

  "What?" Sugar knew she was utterly failing to look innocent.

  "I remember the morning after I married your grandfather. We were too poor to go away anywhere, so we were at home in the first place we lived, out in North Bend." Her voice softened. "Vernon was out trying to coax life into the car, which had barely gotten us home from the church, and my mother stopped by. She asked me that same question about my evening and I do believe I must have had the same look on my face as you do right now, because I'd had quite a fun evening myself."

  "Gran!" Sugar knew she was now a bright, hot red. Her grand¬mother was talking about sex.

  "The good Lord gave us our bodies, child, and there's nothing wrong with wedded bliss. Your grandfather and I had that, and we had all the easy times, too, when just laughing about something together was nearly as good as more intimate things. He always said I was too worried about other people's goings-on." She sighed. "When Jesus spoke to me on Easter, I thought that Vernon must have asked Him to help me."

  Sugar set out her purchases as she considered how best to organize them in Gran's pantry. "I would like to find someone who was as good for me as Grandpa was for you."

  "Your date last night isn't?"

  Sugar paused, realizing she wasn't sure of the answer. The sex had been fantastic, addictive. Their career interests overlapped, certainly, and they laughed together. "I'm not sure yet. We've not spent a lot of time getting to know each other aside from work." She blushed again because she'd nearly said, "aside from bed."

  Gran laughed in such a way that Sugar was certain she'd known exactly what Sugar had meant. "Give it time then. I rather thought that Charlie girl was sweet on you."

  "Maybe so, but I think she likes being single. Has no plans to settle down." Sugar recalled Charlie saying she hadn't liked living with someone.

  "A pity. I've used all the sugar—could you get another bag, dear?"

  "I bought more this morning. I've a lot to do in the next week. Oh, that reminds me, I need to talk to you about some of the plans." Sugar was about to launch into the gory details of Emily's ambitious shooting schedule when Gran's phone rang.

  The slightly officious voice on the other end of the line asked for her grandmother. Thinking it was a marketing call, Sugar said, "This is her granddaughter. Can I help you?"

  "I'm calling to inform you that we have a surgical cancellation, opening up an early date for the surgery she discussed with the specialist on Monday."

  "Oh, that's wonderful news!" Sugar was vastly relieved and gave her grandmother a big thumbs-up gesture. "When?"

  "She'll need to report here at seven a.m. Tuesday for presurgi-cal evaluation and instruction by physical therapists in postopera¬tive exercises. If the tests come back favorably, the surgery will commence around two."

  "Oh." Tuesday. A thousand things went through Sugar's mind. Emily's generosity, the filming schedule, the buzz that would get her entry taken seriously. She thought of her hopes for her busi¬ness, the sudden boom that would result from both participating in the competition and the subsequent coverage aired on local televi¬sion. But she could not get past the frightened, pale look on her grandmother's face this morning. There was no guarantee that another opening would happen as quickly, and it seemed to Sugar that there was a very real danger that her grandmother might fall and then the surgery would have to be performed under vastly more hazardous circumstances. Maybe, she thought desperately, someone else could actually spend the time with her at the hospi¬tal. But, she countered with a sinking heart, who would take on Gran's baking schedule? That promise had been the one that had swayed Gran into accepting the surgery as inevitable.

  "I
f that date is inconvenient in some way, I will contact the next person on the waiting list."

  It was the guarded hope in Gran's face that decided Sugar. "No, she'll be there."

  "Excellent. It is absolutely essential that she stop taking any aspirin today. She shouldn't eat anything after six a.m. on Tuesday, and no water after ten a.m. You should contact her primary care physician immediately to verify if any prescriptions are required now, as there may be something she should take before surgery."

  "I'll do that," Sugar said numbly. She hung up the phone after jotting down a few notes, then turned to face her grandmother. Somehow she found a bright cheerful tone. "Surgery is now sched¬uled for Tuesday."

  Gran paled and put her hand on her heart. "That soon? Dear Lord. Oh, there's so much to do."

  "Yes, there is," Sugar said. A million things to do, and the more she thought about it the more Sugar knew she could not finish her contest entry at anything like the level of detail she had planned. The distraction of Charlie's cake was bad enough. A night out with Emily had strained her planned timing even further. But now she faced an afternoon of phone calls, arranging for the rental of a hos¬pital bed for when Gran came home, lists and, most importantly, keeping Gran calm and confident that everything would be fine. Thank goodness she'd not yet told Gran much about the contest, because Gran would likely insist that she wait. But Sugar did not want to come home to find her grandmother alone and frightened again. "We'll make lots of lists and check them twice."

  As they sorted through various complications and issues, Sugar resolved that she would have to withdraw from the contest. Maybe Quinn or Patricia could take the time to see Gran through the day of surgery, even visit the following day when Sugar was trying to assemble hundreds of pieces of fondant into a coherent design. But neither of them could do Gran's baking, plus all the things they needed to see to before Tuesday morning arrived. It was beyond what they could be asked to do.