Bitter And Sweet

1 - This Charming Man

A/N: The idea for this book has harassed me for over a year now. It was high time I wrote it, work life be damned. I knew I couldn't write a Liam-centric story without a Noel one. Even if it took me years, I knew I'd do it.

To all my readers who've loved In Strange Places, this one's for you. Hope it becomes worth the wait, both for you and for me :)

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There she sat before me, this thing of beauty, all pearly laces and swirly designs in every comprehensible shade of blue. It was quite possible that I had never seen such a beautiful thing in my life before, but then again I had a tendency to be dramatic when it came to my favourite colour. My friends would tell you how I gawked at this peacock in the zoo when we visited New Delhi last summer. She had spread out her tail, thrown her neck up to face the onslaught of rain and the royal blue of her body shone so vividly in that moment that I swear it felt magical.

Just like it felt now as I gazed at the beauty behind the glass screen. Never mind the dirty pots and spatulas and crumbled fondant papers lying on the table behind me. They would stay on the kitchen counter when I came back. The cake wouldn't.

The phone suddenly rang, effectively breaking my reverie. I stood from the counter stool and rushed out to the living room, passing a quick glance at the clock in the hall. Eight pm. Rebecca was right on time.

"Hello?", I answered in a rush.

"Hello my favourite baker", Rebecca greeted chirpily. "Are you done fussing about with your quote unquote last minute fixes to my precious order?"

"I'll take another hour or two if you don't mind."

As expected, she gasped in horror. I chuckled to myself. Imagine being a stickler for time while working in the TV industry and thriving on the London night life. That was Rebecca for you.

In all fairness, she should never have become friends with a simpleton like me. I didn't share her model background or work for the big fits in the industry. Hell, I wasn't even from London. Yet in a strange turn of events, she stumbled upon the bakery I worked in one afternoon, a drunken mess of hippy heels, loud mascara and a bright red dress.

I hadn't even noticed her walk in from my place behind the bill counter. I was caught up in a call with this client of mine and she just so happened to overhear me say why, I could whip up that belgian chocolate cake for you by tonight if you confirm on that design we discussed earlier today.

"Excuse me?", I heard her call from behind. I motioned a single finger over my shoulder hoping she'd take the hint and wait. The minute I hung up, she all but pounced over the counter, hands gripping the edges in white knuckled excitement.

"Do you think you can whip one for me tonight?"

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"That cake you were talking about I meant - could you whip one for me tonight too? I really need it."

Never mind she had eavesdropped on a private call that had nothing to do with Hummingbird Bakery. The unashamed expression complete with the demure smile caught me off guard. I had to smile back, albeit hesitantly.

"If you'd like a cake miss, I could show you our collection here. You could take your pick of whatever flavor you --".

"No no, I can't do with a store bought cake", she said. "I promised him I'd bake a cake for him tonight but I just got caught up with all the party planning duties and now, it's too late for that and I gotta do damage control. I need --", when her smile just wobbled slightly, I knew the girl was desperate.