Christina was running a little behind; so it was already late morning by the time she got where she was going. She was parked up outside a small house in a leafy suburb, set back from the road and nestled against a stand of flowering Sugar Maples; with the Spring sun shining brightly overhead it all looked rather pretty.
Pulling out her phone to double-check she had the right place, Christina noticed she had
another
message from Jamie apologising for having cancelled last night's date. She rolled her eyes and dismissed it; it was getting to the point where his fretting over it was the most irritating part of the whole thing. And it had been pretty irritating, getting bailed on at the last moment like that. Well, these things happen. She'd get in touch later, let him off the hook. No doubt he could make it up to her sometime...
For a moment or so Christina found herself daydreaming of just how he could make it up to her; then she shook her head, muttered "what am I
doing
?", and tried to ignore the hungry warmth within. She decided to get going before anything else could distract her, practically jumping out of the car and wincing as as she accidentally slammed the door with a little more force than was necessary.
It was warm enough that Christina left her jacket in the car, though the mown-grass scented breeze still held a touch of chill. Her outfit, an off-white blouse over charcoal slacks, was an informal one; a chic purse added a touch of glamour, to offset the minimal make-up. Of course, she was looking to make an impression; she was dressed casually, but not thoughtlessly. Granted her top, which on less-blessed women would have been rather modest, was showing
some
cleavage; but it was only the one button left open after all.
Without further ado Christina strode down the path and knocked on the door; it opened so promptly that her fist was still raised when she found herself face-to-face with a cheerful-looking woman. "Christina! Hi!"
"Um, hello!" Christina replied, feeling slightly awkward as she lowered her hand. "That was quick!"
"Hope I don't seem too eager!" the other woman replied brightly. "Saw you coming up the path. Anyways-" she stepped back into the hallway, "come on in."
Christina stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind her. "So you must be Claire, then?"
"That's me!" Claire was an attractive woman, maybe a few years younger than Christina, with an infectious grin, a cute button nose, and what could only be described as a very full figure. Unlike Christina's classic hourglass, Claire's pear-shaped figure was bottom-heavy, with her far-from-small chest, full tummy, and broad womanly hips. "It's so good to meet you in person, I- oh, would you mind taking your shoes off inside? Thanks- I've been so excited ever since we spoke last week."
"Oh, me too, I can't wait to sample your work!" Following on stockinged feet, Christina tried not to dwell on the way Claire's floral-print peasant dress draped over the full curves of a fat, round ass. Silently cursing Jamie for leaving her hanging, she tore her eyes away and instead tried to appreciate the dΓ©cor instead; homespun and homely, all light wood and soft pastels, overall the aesthetic was cozy and warm, if perhaps a little twee.
Stepping to one side, beneath a woodburned 'Share the Love!' sign, Claire curtseyed playfully and waved Christina through a door at the end of the hallway. "And this is my husband, Isaac."
Brushing past Claire in the narrow hallway, Christina stepped through into the empty kitchen area. "Is it? Are you sure?" The space was dominated by a large island table in the centre, its white marble top clear save for a large cake. "Unless he's hiding in the refrigerator?"
"I don't think he'd fit?" Claire cocked her head thoughtfully. "Although, maybe?" It was pretty sizeable, styled like something out of the '50s. "Probably hiding in his den so he can pretend he wasn't dying to meet you."
"Well, I do have that effect on men sometimes," winked Christina.
"Yeah, I'll bet," Claire chuckled throatily. "Anyways-" she gestured vaguely around the room, "-this is where the magic happens!" Despite all the work-surfaces, cupboards, utensil racks, a huge sink, and so on, the kitchen actually felt quite spacious due to its high ceiling and the fact that it only had three walls; instead of the fourth there was a couple of steps transitioning down into a cozy lounge area.
"Could have fooled me, I don't think my kitchen has
ever
been this clean!" marvelled Christina, wandering closer to the island and admiring the perfectly-iced cake atop it. Indeed it was, sparklingly clean, with every bowl, spoon, and container being in just the right spot; an ever-so-faint scent of sugar and vanilla was the only clue it had been used recently.
"Well, there's a reason for that -- these days you can't just bake cakes, you have to make it look good on social media too." Claire shrugged, "People want to see the perfect, effortless fantasy version of the business, not the messy reality behind the scenes."
"Yeah, that sounds familiar," sympathised Christina, thinking about all the hours she'd spent over the years making herself look 'casually dressed' for interviews and photo-shoots. "Which is why I need someone else to do all the hard work while I play hostess!"
"Absolutely!" smiled Claire. "So, this 'little event' of yours, it's going to be more of an informal affair? Because, you know, if we could get some pictures on Instagram, have you lend us a little of that glamour-"
"Well, I'm sure we can work something out," replied Christina airily, idly wondering just how much cleavage would be appropriate for such an occasion. Claire looked her up-and-down with a knowing wink; she adjusted her estimate upwards. "But first-"
"Way ahead of you!" Claire ducked into the pantry and returned with a plate piled high with various treats. "Made these yesterday, ready for you to try. I thought mostly smaller things would be best, cupcakes and brownies?"
"Ooh, that sounds perfect! I can't wait to try them." Christina found herself licking her lips, tried to cover it with a cough. "And what's that?" she nodded at the cake.
"This," Claire cleared her throat discreetly, adopted a mock-serious tone, "this is a three-layer Chiffon cake, filled with whipped cream, frosted with rose meringue buttercream, and decorated with halved raspberries." She regarded her creation with well-deserved pride and a warm smile. "This kitchen was a lot messier yesterday, I can tell you!"
"You must have spent almost as long cleaning it afterwards!"
"She's not cleaned this kitchen even once!" laughed a voice from behind Christina, who turned to see a handsome, broad-shouldered black man enter the lounge area, crossing to the foot of the steps.
"Well, I have to keep you around for something," giggled Claire, using her temporary height advantage to bend down and kiss him on the forehead.