The Perfect Blend

Estelle James was proud to say she was the best baker in the whole of Cherry Blossom Town. Truffles, pies, cakes, even snicker doodles, everyone relished her scrumptious creations. However, at twenty-one, she still lived alone, loneliness was inevitable. Only a small baby rat, Monty, to keep her company.

Brushing long chocolate colored curls out of her pale, elfin face, her emerald green eyes locked on the clock resting at the top of the kitchen shelf. Ten o'clock. Time for work.

She drove off in her vintage scarlet Cadillac, drawing up to her little bakery. The wind ripped her mane of hair around, giving it a charmingly windblown look.

Drawing in a deep breath of fresh autumn air, she slid open the door. Suddenly she spotted something which made her blissful bubble of dreamy perfection burst.

Another bakery opposite hers.

Full of people.

Giving an angry huff, she stomped up to it, and stormed inside. An inviting scent of pine trees and coffee beans enveloped her olfactory senses in a comforting blanket. Inhaling the unusual aroma, she walked up to the man behind the counter. He had cold yellow eyes, and dark hair which was swept up in unruly spikes.

He tapped his pencil against the marble. "Hello, angel. What would you like?"

"Are you new here?" she blurted out.

He smiled wryly. "I asked for your order, not questions about my life story."

She flushed. "Well, I work next door, so....."

"Oh, so YOU are the famous Estelle James I keep hearing about?" asked the boy, cocking his head to one side. "Well, well, well. I'm Hugo Nevermore. You don't look like much, but I doubt the quiet ones ever do. Now, your order?"

Letting a soft puff of air out, she continued. "I don't need anything. But. Hugo, here's a warning. I'm the best baker here, and this annual festival, MY cakes are going to take first prize. As it always does. I'll thank you to remember that."

As she left the shop, he was wearing an odd little grin.

Swinging around in his chair, he whispered to himself. "Hmm...Estelle James, eh? You and I are going to be quite the strange friendship."

Estelle had an excellent day. Slightly less customers than usual, but it was normal.

When she was sitting on the top of her kitchen table, checking her phone, a soft male voice interrupted her.

"Hello, Estelle."

Letting out a loud gasp, she tumbled off the table, smacking her head on the oven on her way down.

A throbbing pain erupting across her temples, she felt her vision swim.

A cool hand smoothed out her brow, and a pair of arms lifted her up.

"Dear me, you should really be more careful, sweetheart."

"Oh shut up. It's your fault that I fell off anyway!" She snarled, holding a cool cloth to her aching forehead.

"Anyway." he leaned languidly on the table like he owned it.

"I came to ask you something."

"And that is?" she said warily.

A pink blush bloomed across his pale cheeks. "Could I....uh....have your number?"

Her face felt hot, but she wasn't sure why. "Oh hush, you awkward potato." she scolded herself in her head.

Scribbling it on a small purple Post-It note, she handed it to him.

"Thanks." he skedaddled as fast as he could.

"That guy really is an oddball....." she thought, laughing a little.

As she tiredly flopped down on her plush bed that night, her muscles crying grateful tears of joy, her phone pinged with a message.

Unknown number: Hello.

Deciding this must be Hugo, she wrote back enthusiastically.

Estelle: Hi!!! :)

The new text popped up almost immediately.

Hugo: So, are we meeting at the competition tomorrow, Angel?

Estelle giggled a little at the nickname. Even though she seemed like a frosty person at first, she was a bouncy ball of sunshine.

Estelle: Oh, I'm so beating you!

Hugo: We'll see. G'night, we both need our beauty sleep. How else will I look this good? ;)

Estelle: You're an idiot. Night!

She stared at the dim light of the screen for a few seconds. She was asleep even before the phone went out.

Estelle bit her lip as she looked at the participants. So far she had been doing just fine, but now they were supposed to team up. As she looked at the sobbing five who had been eliminated, and the grim demeanor of the remaining four, excluding herself, she felt as if she had eaten something extremely wiggly for breakfast.

"Now. Estelle James, with Hugo Nevermore!" announced the judge loudly, his voice bouncing off the walls.

The crowd cheered deafeningly.

Estelle locked her green eyes on Hugo's gold ones, and she sent a silent prayer to the heavens that she would win this contest with him.

"What the hell do we even make?!" panicked Estelle, clutching her long swathes of brown locks.

Hugo quietly picked his nails. "Easy. Brownies."

Estelle's eyes bugged out even more. "I ALWAYS make truffle cake for the last round!" she spluttered.

"Maybe it's time you changed your preferences. Plus, brownies are my favorite." he gave the stunned girl a lazy wink, and grabbed the ladles. "Time to bake."

The next hour was just throwing ingredients into bowls and sloshing them about. Estelle was exhausted and tense by the end of it.

Hugo whispered into her ear. "This is the perfect blend, Angel. Mark my words, we're going to kill this competition."

She dug her nails into her palms. "I hope you're right, Nevermore."

The judge took delicate little bites of all the desserts.

The winner was about to be declared.

"Now....I have had all the food, and don't get me wrong, they're all wonderful. But only one can win.....So.....the winner....whose name is written on this fancy envelope.....which I'm about to read.....the winners are......."

Estelle could feel her heartbeat shut down.

".......ESTELLE JAMES AND HUGO NEVERMORE!"

Estelle honestly could hardly remember what she had even done. She vaguely remembered screaming joyously, and kissing Hugo on the lips-

Oh. No.

She had kissed Hugo.

"Hey." Hugo prodded her in the side, and she sat up with a gasp.

"What were you dreaming about, Angel?"

She tenderly smiled at her husband. "Oh, nothing. Just the day we met."

Her green orbs lingered on the old trophy resting on the shelf, lit up in the soft morning rays.

Hugo threaded his nimble fingers through her long hair. "It was truly the perfect blend, Angel."

She shut her eyes in bliss. "Truly. The most perfect blend life could ever cook up."

THE END