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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2128341-A-Piece-of-Cake-A-Kate--Zeke-Short
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Romance/Love · #2128341
A wedding security gig goes awry, resulting in a disaster of confectionary proportions.
Title: A Piece of Cake
Author: Marie Beaulieu
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T
Genre: Romance/Humor/Adventure
Words: 3,984

(Warning: Contains Graphic Destruction of Wedding Cake)


A PIECE OF CAKE (A KATE & ZEKE ADVENTURE)

Part One


They're back already?

Keeley Sloan checked the time on her laptop screen. It'd only been three hours. That wasn't long enough for a celebrity wedding and reception... and after party. All of which she was missing (and not all that upset about) because one of their clients' servers had experienced several hacking attempts. So she'd been stuck in the hotel suite while her boss and boss' um... Zeke went off to play incognito security detail.

There really was no other way to describe Zeke Masterson. Well, there were plenty of ways... Army-Boy, Southern Gentleman, Hick, Crazy, Brotherly, Cool, Dork... But in terms of what he was to their boss, Kate, Keeley had yet to figure out even after two years employ in the tiny Private Security company. It was obvious that they were more than just besties. It was obvious that he was completely in love with her. But as for Kateri La Pointe, that woman had a guarded heart, despite being friendly enough.

She was good at pretending, donning a persona for any given situation. Keeley was frankly quite in awe of the way she fit in with a bunch of old soldier buddies and rich movie stars alike. Which was, the computer tech supposed, why they pulled so many jobs like this. Famous actress concerned about a stalker but doesn't want the media to find out?

LaPointe Security is the perfect match for you.

Except, something had apparently happened at the wedding, that they'd returned so soon.

"We're back," Zeke called, laughter in his voice. At least, he sounded to be in a good mood.

"Did you bring me a piece of..." Keeley trailed off as she finished the line of code she'd been working on and looked up, seeing the ridiculous mess that was her boss and her partner.

They were still wearing the clothes they'd left the hotel in... A monkey suit for Zeke and a couture teal dress for Kate... But They were covered in what appeared to be Wedding Cake. White frosting stood out against the dark slacks and suit jacket of Zeke's tux. It also appeared to be smeared across the teal fabric of Kate's dress, grease stains spreading across the fine silk. Their faces were likewise smudged with frosting. Crumbs were stuck to their clothes and faces and in their hair.

Zeke seemed to find the situation funny.

Kate looked extremely displeased.

Keeley just stared, her mouth hanging ajar, unable to form the words to ask them what the hell had happened.

"What kind of cake did ya want?" Zeke asked, grinning his boyish grin. "V'nilla or choc'late?"

"Um... chocolate?" Keeley asked, still too distracted by their comical appearance. Kate was holding her sling-back high heels in her hands. They were also coated in what was undeniably wedding cake. Zeke stuck his finger in his ear and removed it with a coating of frosting that he wiped on his ruined shirt-front before he turned and gave his boss a once over.

"Then if ya ask nicely Kate might be able to fish some outta the front a' her dress fer ya."

Their boss turned and glared at her best friend, shoving her shoes at him before reaching a hand down the frosting-stained bodice of her dress. Keeley had to admit, given the woman's cleavage, she probably could store a sizeable piece of cake in there.

And the computer tech was proved correct, for the angry woman removed a handful of -wow, it was chocolate, how close had Zeke been looking?- cake and proceeded to smear it across her chuckling partner's face.

His blue eyes narrowed, and Keeley decided to interrupt before it degraded to what would apparently be the second food fight of the day.

"So... what exactly happened?"


Part Two

A few hours earlier...

"Not a bad gig, eh?" Kate asked, threading her arm through his as they stood on the edge of the vast, artfully landscaped lawn festooned in white drapery and exploding with flowers.

"Speak fer yerself." Zeke tugged at the restricting shirt collar and bow-tie. He never had to wear the dang things when he was living in a cave in Afghanistan.

Don't get 'im wrong. He was grateful for the job Kate had given him. He'd been a little aimless when he finally opted to retire from the Army Rangers after fifteen years. He wasn't opposed to hard work, but the construction jobs just weren't engaging enough. And he didn't have the skills to be more than a simple laborer. The mechanic's shop had been a little more within his know-how. But Kate had been right that one time when she'd taken him out for drinks after Jessica had finally dumped his ass. He was an adrenaline junkie. He craved excitement.

And that's what she'd offered, what she supplied.

Even if it meant he sometimes had to wear a monkey suit and attend some rich starlet's wedding.

"Quit being so cranky." Kate tugged on his arm guiding him over to the bar. It would've been a welcome destination if her intention was to procure them booze and not to 'mingle' with the guests. Which, ironically was the reason why Zeke really could've used a drink. What was he supposed to say to these people with whom he had absolutely nothing at all in common?

He supposed he could just play it the old 'strong and silent type', which he wasn't, not really, not with his friends and anyone not a millionaire by birth or a celebrity. The conversation was all caramel venti latte, the house in San Moritz, and my shoes cost more than yours (which was also the yearly wage of most people where Zeke grew up)… He sort of just stood there and marveled at Kate in mixed admiration and horror.

That woman was a chameleon. By birth or training, he had no idea, but she'd had the skills when he'd first met her. And they'd only gotten sharper with time. She could blend in with any crowd, anywhere in the world. Hell, it didn't even have to be a crowd. She could win over a person one-on-one despite not a single word coming out of her mouth being her own.

He wondered if she was just play-acting when it came to him, too. Was it all lies? Their movie nights, Curry Fridays, trips to the shooting range, barbecues on the roof of their office building-home… Was she only pretending to like all that stuff, to like spending time with him?

Was she just pretending to like him?

That was a painful thought.

She might not even be purposefully doing it. Just like a chameleon, changing herself to blend in, adapting without even realizing it. But even if it wasn't done malevolently… It hurt him in a way he'd never thought possible. Not even Jessica breaking up with him had hurt like this one stupid thought did. But that was probably because he hadn't loved her.

Jess had been right to leave him. A one-sided relationship was no relationship at all.

Kate laughed, the back of her hand swatting his chest as she looked over her shoulder at him. The gentleman she'd been talking to was laughing at his own wit as well, and so entirely missed the eye roll his 'charmed' conversational partner threw Zeke's way. He relented to the grin of amusement, thinking it might make him appear attentive to the conversation. But it was only because he knew Kate so well.

In that split-second look, she'd shown him her true face, her true feelings about the act she was playing. Because Kateri LaPointe was a master at 'faking it'. But she never did with him. He knew it. He knew when the emotions on her face were genuine, when she meant the words rolling off her tongue, her honest smile and laughter.

He felt some of the tension leave the back of his neck, more relieved than he cared to admit. And then remembering that they were here because of a job, he began to scan the faces of the crowd.

Raquelle Shore had a stalker. He'd made threats about disrupting her imminent nuptials, but concerned about a media storm, the celebrity had opted to hire an extremely small, extremely discreet security company based out of Boston. Oh, she had her own security team, bodyguards on the grounds, men parked behind camera monitors. But Kate and Zeke were tasked with specifically dealing with the stalker threat.

They'd tried to preempt a wedding-crashing scenario, but of course, the crazy hadn't been at his home, or the homes of any of his friends and family, and hadn't showed up at work for three weeks. Psycho-on-the-loose. And 8 days hadn't been enough to allow them any more intensive 'investigation' of Raymond Barnes.

Kate managed to detach herself from their verbose fellow wedding guest and, again slipping her arm through Zeke's (and also leaning against him like an affectionate girlfriend), guided him off towards another group of the social creme del la creme. (In that metaphor he must be…what? The curds? The whey?)

"The photo of the stalker is on your phone," she whispered as they casually crossed the impeccably mowed lawn.

"I ain't never needed a pack a' cards ta remember the bad guy's faces." It was part of the reason he'd been chosen for a number of CIA-run operations. Generally, he was the guy casually enjoying his coffee at the cafe across the street, a low tech security camera to back up operatives, searching the crowds for familiar faces and taking care of problems before they became problems (such as blown covers and dead agents). Once he saw a face, even just a picture, it was logged away in some part of his brain that unfortunately only seemed to store faces. Too bad math formulas or historical facts weren't his bizarre superpower… Maybe he would've had a better way out of that miserable place where he grew up than joining the army.

He nodded. She always seemed so confident, he forgot that she was extremely nervous about getting the fledgling security company off its feet, about making sure they got the job done well. And professionally.

"No sign a' 'im yet," Zeke said, leaning over to whisper in her ear since they'd arrived at the edge of a large group of finely dressed guests. Kate had barely begun insinuating herself into the conversation in a manner as smooth as a Georgia peach when a woman's blood-curdling scream cut across the lawn.

One look at Kate, and Zeke was dashing across the lawn towards the source of the disturbance, the woman in three-inch heels somehow keeping up with him.


Part Three

Kate kicked off her shoes and chased after her partner's tuxedo-clad figure vanishing across the vast lawn. Thankfully, he wasn't a particularly tall man, because if he'd had longer legs, she never would've caught up to him. He was fit, though, ran several miles everyday. And she, well, she maybe went for a jog three days a week. Although, she'd gotten into better shape since Zeke had moved into her building and coaxed her into working out with him. It was probably the reason why she managed to keep up with him now, as they pursued the source of that scream.

A crowd had already coalesced around the fancy white wedding tent pitched off to the side of the designated ceremony area. It was the 'Bridal Suite' if Kate remembered the layout the wedding planner had reluctantly given them. (As if they were interested in stealing her genius designs for extravagant weddings.)

Zeke looked to be on automatic pilot 'hero' mode so she grabbed the back of his black suit jacket after he'd cleared his way through the crowd and was about to burst into the bride's private space.

"Whoa now, cowboy," she said when he felt the resistance of her tug and turned to look, bewildered, at her. "Better let me, okay?"

"Knock knock," she said, for the lack of anything to actually create the sound. "It's Kate LaPointe. Is everything alright in there?"

A crack formed in the seemingly seamless white canvas. A made-up eye with comically long fake lashes peered out at her.

"Raquelle says you can come in." The tent flap was widened enough for a well-manicured hand to shoot out, grab Kate by the arm and yank her inside. The gatekeeper was apparently one of the bridesmaids, dressed in a froofy lime green gown. God, even rich people's weddings had ugly bridesmaid's dresses.

The bride was, well, pitching a fit like only a spoiled rotten celebrity could. She was picking up perfume and make-up products off the vanity and throwing them at the walls and ground. Which, Kate imagined, had much more effect indoors. The containers sort of just bounced or slid off the canvas walls and landed in the plush grass, which cushioned their fall. The worst that had happened was some powder had spilled across the grown, tinting the lawn a lighter sage hue.

It was probably a good thing that the bride was dressed only in her fancy undergarments; a white corselet, matching lace panties, garters and nylons. So her wedding dress had been spared any lipstick or foundations stains resultant from the tantrum.

"What's going on?" Kate asked. She may possess the patience to deal with clients like Raquelle Shore, 'movie star', but she didn't like the spoiled brats. It was probably because she'd seen how exponentially worse a human being's living conditions could actually be. It gave one little tolerance for those with 'first world problems'.

"The creep got in here!" she said, finally noticing Kate's presence and whirling on her. "You were supposed to keep him out!"

"I apologize, Ms. Shore," Kate said, employing her best even tone reserved for only the most trying of clients.

"Apologies don't do much when he's got naked photos of me to perv over!" Kate hadn't seen any of the woman's movies, and now she was pretty certain she didn't want to. Not with how the how her voice turned screechy at any volume above a whisper. "Or even worse, sell them to some gossip rag!"

"We'll take care of this, Ms. Shore." Kate turned to the handful of bridesmaids present, knowing the bride would be of no use. "Did anyone see which way the intruder went?"

They all pointed in different directions. Kate sighed. Well, this job had gone to shit. How were they-

There was shouting from somewhere outside. Kate was almost thankful for the distraction as she wrestled with the tent, finally finding the flap and stumbling out into her partner's steadying hands.

"What's going on, now?" she asked.

"Ain't sure," Zeke said, releasing her arms to grab her hand instead as he navigated his way through the milling, gossiping crowd, dragging her in his wake.

"Ms. Shore says the stalker got into her tent with a camera," Kate said after they broke free of the crowd and some more shouts drew their attention to where some of the starlet's bodyguards were chasing a loan figure… with a camera. "We better help them or we're really not going to get paid!"

"I don't think-" She didn't wait for Zeke, sprinting off towards the other end of the lawn. The suspect was escaping as he wound around the tables and chairs set up in the reception area. The bodyguards, obviously chosen for their substantial builds, were having a harder time circumnavigating all of the gaudy decorations. (Twice life-size swans? Really?!)

There were more shouts. She could feel Zeke's presence behind her. It always gave her confidence knowing that the man had her back. And reassured, she could focus on only what was before her, on catching the fleeing suspect. A stitch started to form in her side but she only needed to make it a few more yards to intercept the creep.

Kate didn't bother trying to slow down. Instead, she plowed right into the man from the side, their combined momentum impacting at a right angle and sending them both tumbling in a new and unexpected direction… directly into the giant wedding cake that had been decorated to look like, bizarrely, a swan. (Kate was sensing a theme). Well, it had resembled a larger-than life bird. Now, well…

It seemed to explode from the impact, cake and frosting raining down on the both of them, even as Kate rolled over, groaning. The cake had been soft, but the table beneath had not wanted to yield when she struck it. She was going to have bruises.

The man with the camera was trying to get to his feet when Zeke appeared, grabbing their cake-covered suspect's arm and twisting it up behind him.

"Jus' hold still," he said loudly when his captive began to squirm against the hold. "We'll get this sorted 'efore ya ken cry 'police brutality'."

He handed the man off to the bodyguards who finally tried to show up, asking the head of security, "Who's this guy an'way?"

"Paparazzo," the grey-haired ex-cop-looking bodyguard said, before turning to Kate who was still lying in a pile of cake, trying to regain the wind that had been knocked from her. "Thanks for intercepting him, ma'am. Afraid you're going to catch some hell for the cake, though."

And then the team of bodyguards was marching the man off.

"He's not our guy?" Kate asked, studying her partner's face, which was wearing an expression that was far too amused for her liking.

"I tried ta tell ya," Zeke said, shaking his head and chuckling. He was actually laughing?! They probably weren't getting paid, were out the cost of her very expensive dress and his not-that-cheap tuxedo. And they hadn't even caught their bad guy? "But good tackle, there. Ain't never seen a linebacker do that well, let alone in a dress."

Kate glared at her supposed friend.

"Hey, she might be grateful 'nough that we stopped a paparazzo ta forgive yer decidin' ta wear her weddin' cake." He crouched down, ran a finger up Kate's bare arm, scooping up some frosting and sticking it in his mouth. He made an appreciative humming noise.

"Pity," He said, giving her a look like it might just be worth it to try to lick off the rest of the confection that had stuck to her. "It's good stuff."

It probably would be. Kate thought and then was horrified by the inappropriate idea that had come from seemingly nowhere, about how enjoyable it might be to let her attractive friend lick her clean.

Zeke got to his feet, and laughing some more, offered her a hand up. She took it, but once she was on her feet, used the proffered hand and a quick sweep-kick to his shin to send the man face first into the remainder of the cake strewn in the grass.

"How's it taste now?" Kate laughed as he rolled onto his back to glare up at her, frosting coating his face.

Served him right. Not for failing to warn her this wasn't their guy. Not for laughing at her. Okay, a little for laughing at her. But mostly for making her think about what it would be like to have his tongue warm and playfully applied to her skin.

She wondered how he'd respond if she licked the frosting off his face, its sugary sweetness tinged with his salty sweat, the feeling of the coarse stubble of his five o'clock shadow against her tongue, his soft, pretty mouth…

"Let's get out of here," Kate said. "This place is driving me crazy."


Part Four

"So you never caught crazy stalker guy?" Keeley said, receiving a glare from her boss and a sheepish look from soldier-boy. "Guess that would explain why his arrest in Ohama just triggered a flag in my system."

Kateri LaPointe might be the most unflappable person the younger woman had ever met, but the stolid woman looked like she just might scream. Keeley pursed her lips. Zeke had so far been the target of their boss' wrath, and the computer geek was not about to draw the attention to herself.

"We ken argue that we done our job," Zeke offered helpfully. "Mr. Barnes di'n't in point a-fact disrupt the weddin'."

A snort of laughter escaped through Keeley's nose. She couldn't help it. "Yeah. You guys had that covered, didn't you?"

She watched in alarm as Kate's jaw bulged when the woman clenched her teeth. Okay, time to disarm the bomb.

"Why don't you take the bathroom first, boss?" Keeley busted out her old 'teaching assistant' voice, possessing some authority and certainty but not assertive enough to piss off the person actually in charge. 'Oh, Dr. Bradford, why don't you try a logarithmic approach instead of…'

"And Zeke can strip off those ruined clothes…" Both pairs of eyes fixed on Keeley, eyebrows raised. "Out on the balcony."

Oh, she'd worked with the man long enough to know that Zeke Masterson sported a trim figure that would likely be quite a bit of eye candy. But Keeley also knew that bit of sweet was entirely off limits. Not that she felt that way about the guy anyway. (But Kate certainly did.)

"What? You think I wanna see that?" Keeley laid the sarcasm on thick, making Kate laugh and Zeke frown with a mock hurt expression.

"Ya really know how ta bolster a guy's self esteem, kid," he said, his playful blue eyes belying the pouting set of his mouth. Despite younger blonde computer geeks apparently not being his type, Keeley still managed to have a teasing, sort of flirty friendship with the charmer (because she was female after all, and the man couldn't just turn off that charm of his.) So she was a little insulted herself when he didn't give her a wink or a smile, until she realized where his attention had settled.

She rolled her eyes as he watched Kate's round ass in that tight dress when the woman headed for the en suite bathroom.

Get a room, already.

Well, Keeley supposed they had a room. And it was rather a nice hotel room. Could easily be a romantic getaway. If it wasn't for their computer geek parked in the middle of one of the full beds, surrounded by laptop, extra hard drives, multiple cell phones and the rest of her travel kit.

Zeke's look grew downright wistful when the bathroom door shut and he turned to do as Keeley suggested, grabbing his duffel and taking it out onto the balcony with him.

She only felt guilty for a moment. The idiots had had years to get together, after all. It wasn't just her presence preventing soldier-boy from striding into the bathroom to lick the wedding cake off his boss' body.

Mm… cake.

Keeley picked up the hotel phone, an old touch tone model, beige and practically the size of a toaster with a chunky receiver and a fricken spiral cord.

"Room Service? Yeah. I'd like to order a piece of cake, please."

END
© Copyright 2017 Marie Beaulieu (maribeau at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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