“No, no,” he protested, holding his hands out apologetically, “please don’t fret about my car. Here, let me help you.” Two yelps and the push of a remote button on his key set rendered the howling alarm mute. Kasper hastened to assist the sobbing beauty in picking up the ruined cake. “Don’t cry, please. Hey, I tell you what. As soon as we have cleaned this up, I will take you to the local home bakery and replace the cake. On me.”
“Thanks, but you cannot do that,” she sniffed, gathering up handfuls of mushy batter and marzipan ornaments. “I made this cake myself, you see. Took me two days, and that was after I handmade all the decorations. You see, it was a wedding cake. There is nowhere we can just get a wedding cake at any shop.”
Her bloodshot eyes, drowning in tears, broke Kasper’s heart. With reluctance, he placed his hand on her forearm and rubbed it softly to convey his sympathy. Completely taken with her, he felt the sting in his chest, that familiar sting of disappointment that hit when confronted with sore reality. Kasper ached inside. He did not want to hear the answer, but he was desperate to ask the question. “Is… I-is the cake f-for your… wedding?” he heard his lips betray him.
‘Please say no! Please be a bridesmaid or something. For the love of God, please do not be the bride!’ his heart seemed to scream. He had never been in love before, apart from technology and science, that was. The delicate blond woman looked up at him through her tears. A small choking sound came from her as a crooked smile forced its way onto her beautiful face.
“Oh God, no,” she shook her head, sniffling along with her silly giggle. “Do I look that dumb to you?”
‘Thank you, Jesus!’ the elated physicist heard his inner voice rejoice. He suddenly gave her a wide smile, feeling utterly relieved that she was not only single, but that she had a sense of humor as well. “Ha! I cannot agree more! Bachelor over here!” he babbled awkwardly. Realizing how stupid he sounded, Kasper thought of something safer to say. “My name is Kasper, by the way,” he said, extending a messy hand. “Doctor Kasper Jacobs.” He made sure that she took note of his title.
With enthusiasm, the pretty woman grasped his hand with her own sticky icing fingers and laughed, “You sounded like James Bond just then. My name is Olga Mitra, um… baker.”
“Olga, the baker,” he chuckled. “I like that.”
“Listen,” she said in seriousness, wiping her cheek with her sleeve, “I have to have this cake delivered to this wedding party in less than an hour. Do you have any ideas?”
Kasper gave it some thought. Far was it from him to leave a damsel of this degree of splendor in peril. This was his one chance to make a lasting impression, and a good one, at that. At once, he snapped his fingers and an idea sprung into his mind, sending clumps of cake flying. “I might have an idea, Miss Mitra. Wait here.”
With new found zest, the usually down Kasper leapt up the stairs to his landlord’s house and implored Karen to help. After all, she was always baking, always leaving sweetbreads and bagels in his loft. To his delight, the landlord’s mother agreed to help Kasper’s new lady friend to salvage her reputation. They had another wedding cake ready in record time after Karen made a few calls of her own.
After a race for time to get the new wedding cake done, which, fortunately for Olga and Karen, was modest to begin with, they had a quick sherry to toast their success.
“Not only have I found a lovely partner in crime in the kitchen,” the graceful Karen cheered as she raised her glass, “but I have made a new friend too! Here is to cooperation and new friends!”
“I second that,” Kasper smiled slyly as he clinked glasses with the two chuffed ladies. He could not take his eyes off Olga. Now that she was relaxed and happy again, she sparkled like champagne.
“Thank you a million times over, Karen,” Olga beamed. “What would I have done if you did not save me?”
“Well, I believe it was your knight over there who made it all happen, dear,” the sixty-five year old redheaded Karen said, motioning toward Kasper with her glass.
“That is true,” Olga agreed. She turned to Kasper and looked deep in his eyes. “Not only did he forgive me my clumsiness and mess on his car, but he saved my ass too… and they say chivalry is dead.”
Kasper’s heart jumped. Behind his smile and cool exterior, he was flushing like a schoolboy in a girl’s locker room. “Someone has to save the princess from stepping in mud. May as well be me,” he winked, surprised by his own charm. Kasper was not unattractive by any means, but his passion for his career made of him a less than outgoing person. In fact, he could not believe his luck in finding Olga. Not only did he seem to win her attention, but she practically showed up on his doorstep. Personal delivery, courtesy of Fate, he reckoned.
“Will you come with me to deliver the cake?” she asked Kasper. “Karen, I will be back in a whiz to come and help you clean up.”
“Nonsense,” Karen shrieked playfully. “You two go on and get the cake delivered. Just bring me back a half-jack of brandy, you know, for my trouble,” she winked.
Ecstatic, Olga kissed Karen on the cheek. Karen and Kasper exchanged victorious looks at the sudden arrival of the walking sun ray in their lives. As if Karen could hear her tenant’s thoughts, she asked, “Where did you come from, dear? Is your car parked nearby?”
Kasper gawked at her. He wanted to remain ignorant of the matter that had crossed his mind as well, but now the outspoken Karen voiced it. Olga lolled her head and answered them without reservation. “Oh, yes, my car is parked in the street. I was trying to get the cake from my apartment to my car when the uneven driveway made me lose my footing.”
“Your apartment?” Kasper asked. “Here?”
“Yes, next door, through the hedge. I am your neighbor, silly,” she laughed. “Did you not hear the racket when I moved in on Wednesday? The movers made such a noise, I thought I was going to get a stern talking-to, but nobody showed up, luckily.”
Kasper looked at Karen with an astonished, but satisfied smirk. “You hear that, Karen? She is our new neighbor.”
“I hear that, Romeo,” Karen teased. “Now get going. I am running out of libation.”
“Oh shit, yes,” Olga exclaimed.
Carefully, he helped her lift the base of the cake, a sturdy coin shaped wooden panel covered in pressed foil for show. The cake was not too elaborate, so it was easy to balance between the two of them. Like Kasper, Olga was tall. With her high cheekbones, fair skin and hair, her slender frame to boot, she was a typical Eastern European stereotype in beauty and stature. They carried the cake down to her Lexus and managed to get it in the backseat.
“You drive,” she said, tossing him her keys. “I will sit in the back with the cake.”
As they drove, Kasper had a thousand questions to ask the stunning woman, but he elected to play it cool. He took directions from her.
“I must say, this just proves that I can drive any car without struggling,” he bragged as they arrived at the back of the reception hall.
“Or my car is just user-friendly. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to drive it, you know,” she jested. In a moment of despair, Kasper recalled the Dire Serpent discovery and that he still had to make sure David Purdue did not study it. It must have shown on his face while he was helping Olga carry the cake into the kitchen of the hall.
“Kasper?” she pressed. “Kasper, is something wrong?”
“No, of course not,” he smiled. “Just thinking about work stuff.”
He could hardly tell her that her arrival and her gorgeous looks wiped all priorities from his mind, but the truth was that it did. Only now did he remember the urgency with which he was trying to contact Purdue without letting on that he was doing so. After all, he was a member of the Order, and if they found out that he was in conspiring with David Purdue, they would surely end him.