[This is the fourth installment of Cupcake. Remember – this story will make more sense if you read this one first. To read the first three installments, scroll down. To read the rest of the stories posted on the blog, visit the Table of Contents. Thanks so much for reading!]
(At the end of the last installment, Kate found out that she would soon lose her dead end job at the bakery.)
Kate’s plan did not pop out of the oven with the cupcakes. It didn’t appear in a swirl of pale pink frosting or float to the top of the big batch of lemonade – also pink – that she mixed later that afternoon. Kate didn’t find inspiration inside the espresso machine, which she used exactly twice all day but still had to thoroughly clean before she left for the night, and a new life did not materialize by the trash cans when she took out the single small bag of garbage that her day of work generated. When Kate finally hung up her apron, she was no closer to figuring out the rest of her life than she’d been when she left the therapist’s brown office the day before. She wanted to believe that she’d get herself together if April’s father came to his senses and stopped paying her to stand uselessly behind the counter at Cupcake… but Kate had a bad feeling that she’d just wander down the street until she found a “Help Wanted” sign in the window of a fast food place or a donut shop.
She certainly wouldn’t drive to her old office building and beg for her job back. She wouldn’t update her resume and dig out her good suit. She wouldn’t unpack her boxes. She couldn’t do any of that, not in Los Angeles. She needed a fresh start. An exciting new city where nobody knew her, a big new job for her parents to brag about, a brand new wardrobe that she could barely afford… Those things would make Kate feel better – they always did – but the most she could manage after her life fell apart this time was a move across town. Months later, Los Angeles still sucked at Kate’s legs like quicksand. She wondered if she was doomed to face her mistakes from now on, like the grown up she didn’t particularly want to be. She missed the old Kate, the adventurous Kate, the Kate who always had a suitcase ready. She missed the Kate who escaped while she still had money in the bank and confidence to spare.
As mistakes went, sleeping with Michael Cooper, her lunatic ex-boss’s handsome but way-too-old husband, was a pretty impressive one. Not the one Kate would start with, if she decided to embark on a plan of maturity and taking responsibility. If anything, Kate thought she’d paid too high a price for this adventure already. She couldn’t sleep at night, she had a scar, she didn’t think her arm would ever be the same again. She deserved to feel happy when she bought a new pair of shoes. She deserved an exciting stranger to think about while she fell asleep at night. She deserved to be a few thousand miles away from the mess she made. She did not deserve boring Erik, brown therapy, and a life sentence of pink baked goods and April.
But Kate might as well have been glued in place.
April’s father, Kate hoped, would shake her out of her life before she completely ran out of money and options. If he closed Cupcake, Kate would have to make a change, and she would not wander a few blocks and collect another dead end job. She would go somewhere far away. Rome, or London, or Paris.
It wasn’t a terrible idea, Kate thought, as she unlocked her door and walked cautiously into her apartment. She turned on all the lights while she imagined the glamorous new life she could have in a foreign place with an ocean separating her from her current batch of problems.
Kate would have interesting, glamorous affairs. She would wear tight black dresses and drink espresso late at night. She would not end up in the emergency room.
Technically, Kate was still on leave from her job. Although she’d settled the lawsuit against crazy Jill Cooper almost immediately – it didn’t matter how pitiful Kate looked in her cast, she knew a jury would have no sympathy for her – the company kept her in limbo, afraid to fire her but not exactly anxious to have her back. A transfer to the Paris office might just make everybody happy. While Kate tiptoed from room to room, peeking into all the closets and under the bed, she resolved to brush up on her French and make a list of people from the office who didn’t think she was too much of a tramp.
Satisfied that her apartment was empty – who did she expect to find, Erik’s pretty girlfriend curled up under the bed with a big knife? – Kate sat down with a pen and a piece of paper and began writing names.
Bradley from down the hall, who hated Jill Cooper for refusing to promote him.
Jenna the secretary, who didn’t understand that sleeping your way to the top isn’t working if you’re still fetching coffee and making copies after ten years.
Fred, who had such a hopeless crush on Kate that he asked her out the day she got caught in the parking lot with Michael Cooper.
Barbara, who hated men so much that she had no trouble blaming Michael for the whole thing, even after Kate’s entire campaign of seduction was revealed by the office computer guy, who had access to everybody’s email.
Kate spent the evening writing to each of them. She asked how they were, what was going on at the office, had anyone replaced crazy Jill Cooper yet? She told them that her cast was off, her scars were healing, she really appreciated the get well cards they sent after the attack. She tried to remember if they actually sent get well cards. It didn’t matter. People liked to be thanked. She thanked them like they gave her kidneys and not greeting cards. She mentioned, casually, that she was thinking about getting out of town. If only she had a job to go to. Somewhere far away, like Paris.
Kate dreamed of suitcases and airplanes, new clothes and a tiny apartment with blank white walls. She felt good when she woke up, like she could float right off the couch if she took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t think of the therapist and his brown office. She didn’t think of the espresso machine. She didn’t think of April or even Erik, although if she had considered Erik, she would have felt a weak tingle of anticipation. All Kate could think about was getting out of town. Starting over. Moving on like she always did. Nothing could tie Kate to Los Angeles. She wouldn’t spend the rest of her life haunting the scene of her crime like a guilty blond ghost.
Kate found a green dress and a pair of brand new boots, still stuffed with tissue paper from the store. She carefully styled her hair, covering the scars on her forehead and pinning it in place with shiny blue clips. She smoothed pink lipstick on her lips and smudged makeup around her eyes. She transformed herself the way she had every day since she started making Erik’s morning caramel latte.
But Kate wasn’t dressing up for him, and she didn’t even know it yet.
[Come back next week to see who Kate is really dressing up for… And thanks so much for reading!!!]
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