Devil's Food Cake [✓]

5 | english breakfast

'How has your day been today, stranger?' I said, glancing up from arranging the flowers in an vase.

They'd been a gift for me. A sour Dorothy had given them to me before I'd started my shift.

When questioned, she hadn't known who had been the sender and the delivery guy had arrived as she'd been opening up shop.

They were a particularly beautiful bouquet of yellow roses. Expensive blooms. I'd assumed the bouquet was from a grateful customer, so the kind gesture had done a lot of brighten up my day. So much so, I could even find some warmth to share with a puzzled looking Zachary.

'Hung over,' he grumbled, rubbing his palm across his forehead. It was true. He did look rather the worse for wear that morning.

'Oh. Sorry to hear that. Did someone drink a little too much last evening?' I teased, wiping the vase down before I set it in front of the window where the sun's rays could give it sustenance.

'Not enough!' Zachary scoffed. 'I went on a pub crawl, me and a few mates. I'll remember it for the girls especially...' He beamed.

I shrugged my shoulders. 'I'm sure if you asked them, they wouldn't have much cause to remember you...'

Zachary made a dismissive sound halfway between a laugh and a put down. 'Potentially,' he said, reaching out to get the water jug and poured himself a glass of water. 'What do you recommend for a hangover cure?'

'We make a wonderful fry up, if you'd like to try that out.'

'How much is it?'

'£12.60.' I pointed to the menu and watched as he scanned it.

'I see you got the flowers. Do you like them?' He said matter-of-factly.

What? I was left me quite at a loss for words. He'd been the one to give me the flowers. How did that make any sense?

When I didn't respond, he looked up at me, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. 'What is it, Candice? Cat got your tongue?'

'Well, thanks, I guess,' I said, raising an eyebrow. 'What's with the big show of generosity?'

'I thought I owed you an apology. I realise that servers are people too...' He gave me a contrite smile and I almost forget that he was such a douche. Maybe he wasn't so rude after all...

Although, I still thought that he was similar to a snake in that his intentions were vague and that perhaps if I wasn't too careful, Zachary Malone would probably find some way to smother me, if I gave him too much leeway.

Much to my surprise, Zachary was glancing at the drinks menu. Usually, he ordered an espresso, but I guess he wasn't so predictable after all as he plumped for the sparkling lemonade.

'So,' he said, as he collected his receipt and table number, a wooden block with seven printed on it, 'are you seeing anyone at the moment?'

Gobsmacked, I stared at him. He'd said those words casually, no hint of a blush or embarrassment. The way he'd asked me was like he was taking part in a business transaction. How romantic.

'Uh, why is it any of your business if I am or not?' I snorted.

I looked around for the next customer, but unfortunately, no one behind him. There were two Asian guys studying the display, but when I asked them if they were ready to order, they shook their heads and grinned.

So, I was faced with the smug face of Zachary pouring out a glass of water and waiting expectantly for an answer from me. He was like a bad odour that wouldn't ever go away.

'You never answered my question,' he stated simply.

It was tempting to pull him towards me by his sleek jacket lapels and scream in his face, all drill Sergeant, that perhaps he should sit his arse down at one of our tables before I shoved him in one of our ovens.

However, I decided to go with a more subdued approach.

'I didn't think you deserved an answer, Malone.' I pursed my lips.

Zachary's eyes gleamed in delight at getting some sort of reaction out of me.

'Well, well, well,' he chuckled, his tone dripping with contempt for me, a lowly bakery girl, 'Candice the Bakery Girl isn't all sugar and spice. Now you're calling me by my surname? What have I done to deserve this?'

I shrugged, and rolled my eyes to show my utter disinterest in him. 'Just go.'

Zachary took a sip of his water and licked his pink lips, they were soft and full and like the inside of a strawberry. They looked delicious, even if he was a total idiot.

'You know, when I was in school, I had a teacher who just called me Malone because that was the culture there. And he was old school.'

'I see.' I stared at him, my arms crossed. 'And where did you go exactly? Private school?"

Zach leaned forward towards me. My eyes widened as his eyes made a daring journey across my face, attempting to read my emotions or spook me as if he were a spirit and I was a horse cantering happily along.

Sensing the tension around my lips, the raw eye contact he made almost seemed to cut through me, making me tempted to look away. Yet, I remained frozen on the spot, enjoying the strange connection I was experiencing with him, the sense of mischief and playfulness in his blue eyes doing a great deal to raise a smile on my face.

'Yeah. I went to a boarding school. I hated it.'

A touch of melancholy laced his tone.

His hand stretched towards me and for a moment I thought he was going to touch my hand, but instead he reached out for the brownie samples.

His hand was so close, yet so far. They were nice hands, very big and the palms and fingers were squarish and long. Solid, manly hands.

'Why?' I said, curious to know more about him.

He didn't answer straight away. Instead he chose a brownie piece and popped it in his mouth, glancing up at me, giving me a grim smile. 'Too restrictive for someone like me...'

'Oh,' was all I could think to say. It didn't surprise me that he was a rebel rouser or a bad boy. He had a James Dean quality to him.

'How about you? What university do you study at?' He wasted no time in polishing off the rest of the brownies and I made a mental note to replenish the bowl with more chunks.

'I don't,' I replied, used to the question. 'I'm in sixth form college.'

He nodded thoughtfully, but I saw a flash of disappointment pass across his eyes. 'Good luck with that.'

Without so much as a smile, he turned his back on me and I watched him head off to his window seat, feeling as though I'd said something stupid, despite it being true.