The Baker's Helper - 1. Story

“What do you mean you volunteered our apartment for the building’s secret Santa party?” I stood in the doorway of my roommate/best friend’s bedroom holding a bowl full of batter… the cake I was making, forgotten.

She turned and gave me a mischievous grin. “6C is organizing it this year. It’s a great way for me to get to know him, Kade.”

Ana had been trying to find a way to catch the attention of the hot brunette in 6C, ever since he’d moved into the building 5 months ago. She managed to bump into him in the laundry room several times, and had even figured out when he went for his morning runs so she could ‘accidentally’ meet him on the street. So far, nothing seemed to catch the man’s notice. It seemed a little ‘stalkerish’ to me but, she did have better luck with men than I did, so what did I know?

“How did he get sucked into that?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe. “Mrs. Mendosa usually organizes and hosts the party.”

The majority of tenants in our building were older, and many didn’t seem to have much in the way of family or friends. Mrs. Mendosa, the building’s superintendent, started a secret Santa years before we moved in, for any building residents who wanted to participate. She would organize the drawing of names, and even hosted a potluck dinner and gift exchange party in her apartment a few days before Christmas.

“Didn’t you hear?” Ana grabbed a towel and walked towards the bathroom. “She sprained her ankle trying to get Mr. Reilly’s hamster out of the heating ducts.”

“Why does he let those little rats run free, anyways?” I shuddered at the thought of one of those furry little monsters falling out of one of those ducts, and into my bed.

Ana waved away my concern. “That’s not the point, Kade. The point is, she can’t do it, so 6C volunteered to organize the party this year.”

“And we got volunteered to host the party… how?”

“I said we could.”

“You can’t cook or bake.”

“But you can,” she gave me a brilliant smile. “Oh, and 6C will be coming by in 2 hours with the guest list, so you need to start planning a menu.”

“Ana…,” I growled at her.

“Thanks, Kadie… I love you!” She shut the door, and the loud beat of her indie music drowned out any other protests I might have had.

Ana and I met in our second year of college, and hit it off instantly. We moved in with each other during our third year. She was fun loving and outgoing, whereas I was shy and a little introverted, but we seemed to complement each other well. Her parents loved that she was living with a gay man; security without any worry about unwanted sexual advances. As much as I loved Ana, she could be one of the most narcissistic people I knew. With her big dark eyes, long black hair and exotic Latina looks, she usually had no problem finding men. Her problem was she always seemed to find the wrong ones. My problem was I couldn’t seem to find one man. I had dated a little in college, but usually it amounted to one or two here and there… and then fizzled out. Ana said it was because I put out “terminally shy” vibes.

I sighed, and walked back to the kitchen. I still had a cake to make for my niece’s birthday. I loved being a baker, but it meant that my mother would volunteer me to make birthday and anniversary cakes for everyone she knew.

Two weeks later, I was coming home from work when I heard someone call my name. I turned as 6C, whose name turned out to be Daniel, jogged up to me.

“Kaden,” he panted. “I’m glad I caught you. We have a problem with the party.”

“A problem?” I held the door open and followed him into the building.

“Yeah,” he pressed the button for the elevator before turning to me. “Mrs. Stevenson came home from her daughter’s this afternoon to find out her freezer died while she was gone. Everything in it is ruined.”

My mouth fell open in shock. “But the party is tomorrow!”

I had made several pies, cakes, and pastries ahead of time, and stored them in Mrs. Stevenson’s apartment, since she was the only one in the building with a large freezer. Daniel looked at me sympathetically. “I know,” he put a hand on my shoulder, guiding me through the elevator doors.

“I’m going to have to bake everything again.” I felt like I could cry. I was exhausted. I had just come off of back-to-back shifts at the restaurant. We’d been very busy for the last few weeks with Christmas parties and functions, and my assistant had come down with the flu, so I had been baking solo for a couple of days. It’d meant a lot of hours on my feet.

Daniel studied me for a second. “Tell you what,” he said, finally. “Let me get changed, and I’ll come by and help you.” His hand, which I didn’t notice was still on my shoulder, moved to my neck. It was warm, and surprisingly soft. He started to gently massage my neck. I couldn’t stop my eyes from sliding shut or the involuntary groan that escaped. The massage felt so good. Long hours bent over a decorating table meant sore shoulders and neck were hazards of the job. “You shouldn’t have to do all of that baking by yourself.”

I opened my eyes and looked at the man in front of me. At around 6 feet tall, we were eye to eye. His pale blue eyes were clouded with concern as his hand continued to massage the tension out of my neck. I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling very confused.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to fall asleep right here in the elevator,” I said, trying to hide my sudden nervousness.

Daniel looked startled for a second before giving me a bashful smile and pulling his hand away. “Sorry… you looked pretty tense. I’m a massage therapist. Automatic reaction I guess.”

“Oh, I didn't mind,” I chuckled. “We just won’t get any baking done if I melt into a puddle right here.” Daniel and I left the elevator, laughing.

True to his word, Daniel arrived at my door 15 minutes later, dressed in jeans and a deep blue t-shirt that clung to his nicely defined pecs. As he walked past me, I could detect the distinct scent of minty toothpaste.

“Thank you for helping me,” I said as I shut the door. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had to bake all of those desserts by myself tonight.”

“I’m at your service,” Daniel gave me a cheeky grin, and bowed. “Show me to your mixing bowls.”

A few hours later, there were two cakes baking, 3 pies cooling and I was putting the finishing touches on a batch of lemon tarts. Daniel was busy mixing cookie dough for the sugar cookies. There was flour everywhere, including all over us, but despite my earlier exhaustion, I was having a great time. Daniel was funny and smart and made me laugh with the client stories he had. Apparently some people thought massage therapist meant sex therapist, and expected more than a simple massage from him. One client, a woman in her seventies, even came out of her bathroom wearing a lacy teddy.

“So, where’s your roommate?” Daniel asked, looking sideways at me as he put the dough in the fridge to chill.

“Ana?” I asked, suddenly wondering if that was why he offered to help me… so he could see my hot roommate. “She’s at work, but she should be home any minute.” I tried not to be too disappointed. I didn’t even realize I had allowed myself to hope that Daniel might actually be gay, or would be interested in me. I shoved the disappointment away. He was a nice guy, and whether or not he and Ana got together, I would be happy to count him as one of my friends.

We were working in companionable silence when I heard the apartment door open. “Kadie?” Ana’s voice carried to the kitchen.

“In here,” I called out to her, and looked up as she walked into the kitchen. Her eyes widened when she saw Daniel, dusted from head to toe in flour.

“Daniel?” She recovered quickly and gave him a brilliant smile. “What are you doing here?”

“The desserts were ruined in a freezer mishap,” he said, flashing her a smile. “I told Kaden I would help him bake to replace what we lost.”

“He’s letting you help him?” she smirked. “He never lets me near the kitchen when he’s baking.” I scowled at her, but really, Ana was a disaster in the kitchen.

Ana excused herself to change, and came back 20 minutes later, decked out in a low cut shirt and skin tight jeans. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and laugh. Obvious much? Ana spent her time nearly glued to Daniel’s side, getting in the way rather than helping. A few times, he gently but firmly moved her out of the way as he rolled cookie dough and checked on the pastries as they cooled. After half an hour, Ana seemed to get bored watching us bake, and wandered off to her room.

When the last of the cookies were cooling on the racks, I stood up straight and stretched my arms over my head. The pop of my spine felt great after spending so much time hunched over the counter. Daniel looked exhausted. I thanked him for all of his help and shooed him out the door to get some sleep. He protested, and said he wanted to help clean and pack up everything, but I insisted. Now that the bulk of the work was done, the cleanup would take me no time at all. I fell asleep that night exhausted, but happy about everything we accomplished.

The next afternoon, Daniel came over early to help me set up for the potluck, and finish the last minute decorating. I was still tired, but now that the time for the party was here, and some of the elder tenants started to arrive, I was happy that Ana volunteered us for this. Everyone enjoyed the food, and raved about the desserts. I made sure my baker’s assistant was included in the praise. We even had gift packages of Christmas cookies for everyone to take home with them. The party seemed to be a huge success. Ana essentially ignored Daniel the entire party. She told me earlier that she was “much too cute to chase a guy for so long.” I shrugged, and figured it was her loss. I thought Daniel would make a wonderful catch for any woman.

After dinner, we all settled down for the gift exchange. We set a spending limit of $10, although most people would give homemade gifts. My warmest pair of mittens came from the secret Santa exchange. When the time came for me to open my gift, I was surprised to find nothing but a sprig of mistletoe nestled in white tissue paper. I looked around the room trying to figure out who had given this to me. There were a few chuckles about the gift, but no one seemed to be my ‘Santa.’

Once everyone opened their gifts, the party started to die down as people left to sleep off their turkey comas. I was packing up the last of the leftovers for Mrs. Mendosa when I felt a presence behind me. I turned and found Daniel leaning against the doorway.

“You forgot this in the living room,” he said, handing me the box containing my present.

“Thanks,” I chuckled. “I think someone thought they were being funny this year.”

“Oh?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Why do you say that?”

“Mistletoe? I would need someone in my life to make any use out of that.” My laugh was self-deprecating as I placed the box on the counter and turned to the cupboard to find a lid for the storage container.

A hand on my shoulder gently nudged me around. Daniel was holding the mistletoe in his left hand. He moved the branch above my head as he leaned in. I didn’t dare breathe as his lips touched mine. The kiss was slow and soft, and he tasted of chocolate and mint. My eyes were wide open in shock. When the kiss ended, he smiled at me… placing his hand on my cheek. “Or maybe your secret Santa was hoping it could be a gift for both of you?” he whispered. “Merry Christmas, Kaden.”