Fic: It's Not Always About Cake (Ace of Cakes -- Duff/?) PG-13
Title: It’s Not Always About Cake
Author: kingzgurl
Fandom: Ace of Cakes
Pairing: *whistles innocently* Duff/?
Word Count: 2,625
Rating: PG-13 for language
Prompt_in_a_box “I feel like maybe we can do business.” (Captain, Ep. 08 - “Out of Gas)
Summary: Duff is just getting his business of the ground, and decides to take a night away from cake.
***
“Hey, I think I know someone who would be good for you,” Tom barged into the kitchen and announced loudly.
Duff jerked in surprise, yanking his hand upwards and smudging the intricate piping he had been working on for nearly an hour. “Dammit, Tom!” he glared at his friend. “Give a guy some warning next time.”
Tom grinned and jumped up on the counter so he could sit and swing his legs back and forth, kicking the cabinet every time they fell backwards. “I know someone who’d be really good to work for you,” he repeated, rolling his eyes at the semi-glare Duff was shooting him. The cake decorator rarely remained upset longer than a minute or so, and Tom could already see him caving.
“Oh, yeah?” he asked, seemingly uninterested. “What makes you think she’d be any good at what I do?”
“He’d be great,” Tom emphasized, “because he knows how to build things.”
“So what?” Duff asked again, reluctantly interested to hear what his friend had to say. “A lot of people know how to build things… doesn’t mean they’ll make a good cake decorator.”
“He makes models for an architect right now,” the taller man explained from his spot on the counter. “They’re pretty damn good.”
“So he already has a job?” the cake decorator asked, confused as to why his friend was apparently pimping out someone else’s skills. “Why would he want to work for minimum wage in my kitchen?”
“Just come meet him,” Tom rolled his eyes. “Trust me on this one.”
“Fine,” Duff agreed. “Just go away so I can finish this, ok?”
“Yeah, fine,” Tom waved his hand dismissively. “I have to get back to work anyway. Come by the place tonight around nine for a kickback, k?”
“Yeah, nine,” Duff repeated. “See ya then.”
“Later, dude,” Tom announced as he left as quickly as he had come in.
Duff’s loud, maniacal laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen after his friend left with a layer of flour covering the ass of his black suit from where he’d been sitting on the counter. When his laughter finally died down nearly a full five minutes later, he reached for the remote and turned up the stereo so he could return to his piping.
***
Later that night, after he had made the cake delivery for a couple who lived around the corner, he headed out to Tom’s place in Hampden.
The part of Baltimore where Tom lived rarely saw traffic during the daytime hours, and after dark the streets were nearly deserted, which is why Duff was shocked to see a surprisingly large number of cars parked on the street in front of the building Tom owned.
About five years earlier, Tom, a real estate agent, had bought an old warehouse building on the east side of Hampden. The building had been a little rundown, but mostly in working order, and after a few months and a lot of work, it looked as good as new. In the years since then, the warehouse had been divided up to make rooms and hallways that Tom rented out to his friends who were looking for a cheap, alternative living space.
When Duff had moved back to Baltimore after pastry school he had lived there for almost a year while he saved his money to be able to afford his own place. Even though the occupants changed on a relatively frequent basis over the years, the rooms were always full, and a number of the residents had lived there since Tom bought the building. Tom’s place, usually referred to as The Mill by its inhabitants, was the center of many of Duff’s friendships. Most of his friends from college had lived at The Mill at one point or another over the years, and as new people moved in and out, they were all welcomed into the fold.
Duff hadn’t been around The Mill much in the last six months, as his cake business had finally started taking off, so he hadn’t met some of the new folks who had moved in during that time. Apparently the guy Tom had been telling him about fell into that category.
Duff, who was always excited and eager to meet new people, was eager to see his friends and just have a relaxed night without having to worry about cakes for a couple of days.
***
“Hey!” a red-headed girl charged at Duff as soon as he walked in the door, nearly bowling him over.
“Hey, Mary!” Duff’s signature laugh filled the space. “It’s good to see you, too!”
She let go of him after a moment and punched him in the arm. “Where’ve you been?” she demanded with a smile.
“It’s been one cake-tastrophe after another,” he shrugged and threw an arm around her shoulders. “What’ve you been up to?”
“Eh,” she shrugged under the weight of his arm. “Just work and hanging out. Did you know Neil and Clutch are coming into town next week?”
“Sweet!” Duff grinned and dragged her further into the room. “Where are they playing?”
“Down at Dizzy Izzy’s. Friday at ten. You gonna be there?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he assured her. “Just got to make sure I get a cake done that morning.”
“Awesome! I’ll actually see you twice in the same week!” Mary Alice had a grin on her face that was larger than Duff had seen since they graduated from college.
“Right?” Duff laughed again, “We’ll break the laws of nature.”
“Shut up,” she elbowed him sharply in the side. “Just because you’re apparently too cool to hang out with the rest of us anymore.”
“What I need right now is a drink,” he ignored her and dragged her towards the kitchen area. “Tom is apparently trying to set me up with some guy tonight.”
“Oh yeah?” Mary Alice waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I bet you’re looking forward to that.”
“Mary Alice,” Duff narrowed his eyes and tried to say her name with a warning tone, though he failed miserably.
“Oh you know you like it,” Mary laughed and squeezed him lightly. “We just want you to be happy.”
“What’s to say I’m not happy now?” Duff asked when they reached the drink table and he rooted around in the bucket of ice in search for a beer.
“I dunno, Duffy,” she replied affectionately, rubbing his head. “But you haven’t dated anyone in almost a year.”
“I’ve been busy,” he tried to make an excuse. “And besides, Tom wants me to hire the guy, not get involved with him.”
“Interesting,” Mary looked thoughtfully at the beer Duff had just handed her. “Did he mention the guy’s name?”
“Nope,” Duff shook his head. “Just said he’s an architect or something.”
“Hey, look, there’s Adam!” she changed the subject suddenly, waving over Duff’s roommate from freshman year.
“Hey guys,” Adam grinned in the way that only Adam could, with no lips and no teeth showing.
“How’s it goin’, man?” Duff bumped his shoulder into the smaller man’s. “How’s the girl friend?”
“It’s goin’, it’s goin’,” Adam answered, knocking his shoulder back against Duff before hugging Mary Alice. “What about you? Still doing cakes out of your kitchen?”
“Yep,” Duff replied, “I’ve got more orders than I can handle these days. My kitchen looks like a flour tornado went through it.”
The three snickered loudly. Duff’s kitchen had always looked like a flour tornado had gone through it when he baked.
“Well, good for you,” Adam squeezed his shoulder lightly. “We’ll have to hang out at some point soon, alright?”
“Absolutely,” Duff agreed. “Tell the girl friend I said ‘Hi!’.”
“Will do,” Adam shook his head at Duff’s friendly nature that hadn’t changed since they were kids. “By the way, Tom was looking for you earlier.”
“I bet he was,” Duff looked around the room, almost expecting Tom to be lurking behind a table in wait. “Thanks, man.”
Adam grabbed two drinks from the table and disappeared back into the crowd, giving Duff a few minutes to look around and see what had changed in The Mill.
Duff had always believed the most interesting part about The Mill was the fact that it was a regularly changing piece of art that created a living space. Since it was an old warehouse building, it had a large open floor plan that had no permanent walls other than the supporting outer walls. When Tom renovated, instead of building permanent walls, which would’ve cost a small fortune, he chose to go with the cheaper route of using partitioning walls to divide the space.
At least once every few months, the current inhabitants of The Mill would rearrange the walls to create a new shape to their living spaces. Once, in the time Duff was living there, they decided to build a large labyrinth and use the dead-end turns as the bedroom areas. Other times they had used the walls to spell out words or create complex shapes that could only be seen when viewed from the raised balcony on the east side of the building, next to the small room that had once served as the main office for the warehouse. Currently, the walls were arranged in to create triangular and diamond shaped rooms with openings at the apexes of the shapes to allow movement between the different areas.
As a number of The Mill’s residents were artists, there was also a steady influx of new and interesting art pieces that were displayed in the space. In the area that served as a kitchen, where Duff and Mary Alice were currently hanging out, he could see a large modern sculpture that was built entirely out of old kitchen appliances. Through one of the openings into another room, he could see a portrait of a dog in the bright colors of the Fauvist style.
Duff knew that if he took the time to wander about he’d see a lot of new art he hadn’t seen yet, but he was at a party, and parties weren’t time for contemplating art. Especially when he was at a party, because he was always the life of the party.
“There you are!” Tom’s voice startled Duff out of his thoughts. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show, man.”
“I would’ve been here sooner, but since there’s no parking…” Duff rolled his eyes with a laugh and hugged his friend.
“Ah, yeah, well,” Tom looked a little sheepish. “The kickback turned out to be larger than I thought it would.”
“Seriously,” Duff agreed with a wide grin. “The place looks amazing though.”
“We’ve got a couple new artists-in-residence,” Tom gestured at the appliance sculpture. “Ayanah has a show downtown next month.”
“That’s awesome, man!” Duff’s ears perked up when the music in the building changed from the stereo system to the sound of live guitars being strummed. “Who’s playing tonight?”
“Eh, some of the guys just wanted to jam,” Tom shrugged. “You want in?”
“Hell yeah!” he bounced with excitement, like a five year-old on Christmas morning. “Can I borrow your bass?”
“Sure thing,” Tom laughed at Duff’s enthusiasm. “You know where it is. I’ll let the guys know you’re in.”
“Sweet!” Duff shouted and gave Tom a high-five before he ran off to get the instrument from the band storage area against the far wall. He may have been a cake decorator working out of the small kitchen in his apartment, but Duff’s real love was music. He’d been so busy with cakes recently that he hadn’t even been able to find time to jam with his friends or his on-again-off-again band, and so he jumped at the opportunity to play a little.
By the time he joined the rest of the guys five minutes later, Tom had already talked to them and set up for Duff to plug in. He didn’t recognize a couple of the guys, but Tom quickly remedied that by introducing him to Jacob, Pete, and Geof, with a quick round of handshakes.
Jacob and Pete seemed nice enough to Duff, if they were a little quiet with their acoustic guitars, but it was Geof who caught Duff’s attention. He didn’t say a word throughout the entire exchange, only shook Duff’s hand when prompted, and then disappeared to the back of the group.
“Let’s rock!” one of the guys shouted, and the crowd screamed back, causing Duff to burst into excited laughter.
Frankie, the drummer, tapped out a quick rhythm and they launched into the music. For the next thirty minutes they played cover after cover while different people got up to sing lead vocals. There were catcalls and jokes and jibes from the audience and band alike, and Duff was enjoying himself so much he forgot about the quiet musician. It wasn’t until the band took a break that Duff even saw him again.
“Who wants to improv?” Jacob asked the group after downing a beer. “Let’s see what all you girls actually got in you.”
“I’m in,” Duff jumped in. There was nothing he liked better than to steal the show with a crazy bass line.
Everyone else agreed and looked at Geof, the only one who hadn’t spoken up.
“Alright,” the slender man agreed almost reluctantly.
Duff watched the other man and wondered if he was stoned, but brushed the thought aside when he saw Geof disappear to the back of the stage again, this time reappearing a moment later with a trumpet in hand. Well, this ought to be interesting, he thought to himself and grabbed the bass.
Frankie set a different rhythm and they all jumped in when they had a feel for the music. They were all talented musicians, so it didn’t sound like a kindergartner banging on a bunch of pots and pans, but Duff thought it actually sounded half-way decent. They took turns breaking off to lead the song, giving each musician a chance to showcase how well he played and could lead, but also showed how well he could follow when it was someone else’s turn to lead.
When Duff finally got his chance, he rocked out a loud, thumping rhythm that overshadowed every other instrument. He refused to give up the spotlight, completely oblivious to the fact that the audience was starting to get bored by him, until a high trill overtook the deep bass and he was forced to step back in confusion.
The trumpet, a shiny bit of brass played by skillful fingers, caught the attention and shouts of the crowd, drawing the previously-quiet musician to the front and giving the music a distinctive, jazzy feel.
People started to dance at that point, and when Geof stepped back a minute later, they continued to play in that style until everyone had a chance to lead and Frankie brought a song to an end that was punctuated by the screams and catcalls of everyone at the party.
Duff turned around to see dozens of people slapping Geof on the back. Geof, for his part, looked incredibly embarrassed and tried to slip away from the mass of people surrounding the make-shift stage.
Duff, while annoyed that the scruffy-faced musician had stolen his limelight, was as impressed as everyone else in the building, but still chose to let Geof disappear rather than approach him.
“So what’d you think of him?” Tom asked from right behind Duff, causing the larger man to jump.
“Fuck, Tom!” Duff hollered. “What are you talking about?”
“Geof,” Tom rolled his eyes at Duff’s obtuseness. “The guy I was telling you about.”
The cake decorator contemplated his answer for a moment before he spoke, but replied with his patented grin, “I feel like maybe we can do business.”
Author: kingzgurl
Fandom: Ace of Cakes
Pairing: *whistles innocently* Duff/?
Word Count: 2,625
Rating: PG-13 for language
Prompt_in_a_box “I feel like maybe we can do business.” (Captain, Ep. 08 - “Out of Gas)
Summary: Duff is just getting his business of the ground, and decides to take a night away from cake.
***
“Hey, I think I know someone who would be good for you,” Tom barged into the kitchen and announced loudly.
Duff jerked in surprise, yanking his hand upwards and smudging the intricate piping he had been working on for nearly an hour. “Dammit, Tom!” he glared at his friend. “Give a guy some warning next time.”
Tom grinned and jumped up on the counter so he could sit and swing his legs back and forth, kicking the cabinet every time they fell backwards. “I know someone who’d be really good to work for you,” he repeated, rolling his eyes at the semi-glare Duff was shooting him. The cake decorator rarely remained upset longer than a minute or so, and Tom could already see him caving.
“Oh, yeah?” he asked, seemingly uninterested. “What makes you think she’d be any good at what I do?”
“He’d be great,” Tom emphasized, “because he knows how to build things.”
“So what?” Duff asked again, reluctantly interested to hear what his friend had to say. “A lot of people know how to build things… doesn’t mean they’ll make a good cake decorator.”
“He makes models for an architect right now,” the taller man explained from his spot on the counter. “They’re pretty damn good.”
“So he already has a job?” the cake decorator asked, confused as to why his friend was apparently pimping out someone else’s skills. “Why would he want to work for minimum wage in my kitchen?”
“Just come meet him,” Tom rolled his eyes. “Trust me on this one.”
“Fine,” Duff agreed. “Just go away so I can finish this, ok?”
“Yeah, fine,” Tom waved his hand dismissively. “I have to get back to work anyway. Come by the place tonight around nine for a kickback, k?”
“Yeah, nine,” Duff repeated. “See ya then.”
“Later, dude,” Tom announced as he left as quickly as he had come in.
Duff’s loud, maniacal laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen after his friend left with a layer of flour covering the ass of his black suit from where he’d been sitting on the counter. When his laughter finally died down nearly a full five minutes later, he reached for the remote and turned up the stereo so he could return to his piping.
***
Later that night, after he had made the cake delivery for a couple who lived around the corner, he headed out to Tom’s place in Hampden.
The part of Baltimore where Tom lived rarely saw traffic during the daytime hours, and after dark the streets were nearly deserted, which is why Duff was shocked to see a surprisingly large number of cars parked on the street in front of the building Tom owned.
About five years earlier, Tom, a real estate agent, had bought an old warehouse building on the east side of Hampden. The building had been a little rundown, but mostly in working order, and after a few months and a lot of work, it looked as good as new. In the years since then, the warehouse had been divided up to make rooms and hallways that Tom rented out to his friends who were looking for a cheap, alternative living space.
When Duff had moved back to Baltimore after pastry school he had lived there for almost a year while he saved his money to be able to afford his own place. Even though the occupants changed on a relatively frequent basis over the years, the rooms were always full, and a number of the residents had lived there since Tom bought the building. Tom’s place, usually referred to as The Mill by its inhabitants, was the center of many of Duff’s friendships. Most of his friends from college had lived at The Mill at one point or another over the years, and as new people moved in and out, they were all welcomed into the fold.
Duff hadn’t been around The Mill much in the last six months, as his cake business had finally started taking off, so he hadn’t met some of the new folks who had moved in during that time. Apparently the guy Tom had been telling him about fell into that category.
Duff, who was always excited and eager to meet new people, was eager to see his friends and just have a relaxed night without having to worry about cakes for a couple of days.
***
“Hey!” a red-headed girl charged at Duff as soon as he walked in the door, nearly bowling him over.
“Hey, Mary!” Duff’s signature laugh filled the space. “It’s good to see you, too!”
She let go of him after a moment and punched him in the arm. “Where’ve you been?” she demanded with a smile.
“It’s been one cake-tastrophe after another,” he shrugged and threw an arm around her shoulders. “What’ve you been up to?”
“Eh,” she shrugged under the weight of his arm. “Just work and hanging out. Did you know Neil and Clutch are coming into town next week?”
“Sweet!” Duff grinned and dragged her further into the room. “Where are they playing?”
“Down at Dizzy Izzy’s. Friday at ten. You gonna be there?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he assured her. “Just got to make sure I get a cake done that morning.”
“Awesome! I’ll actually see you twice in the same week!” Mary Alice had a grin on her face that was larger than Duff had seen since they graduated from college.
“Right?” Duff laughed again, “We’ll break the laws of nature.”
“Shut up,” she elbowed him sharply in the side. “Just because you’re apparently too cool to hang out with the rest of us anymore.”
“What I need right now is a drink,” he ignored her and dragged her towards the kitchen area. “Tom is apparently trying to set me up with some guy tonight.”
“Oh yeah?” Mary Alice waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I bet you’re looking forward to that.”
“Mary Alice,” Duff narrowed his eyes and tried to say her name with a warning tone, though he failed miserably.
“Oh you know you like it,” Mary laughed and squeezed him lightly. “We just want you to be happy.”
“What’s to say I’m not happy now?” Duff asked when they reached the drink table and he rooted around in the bucket of ice in search for a beer.
“I dunno, Duffy,” she replied affectionately, rubbing his head. “But you haven’t dated anyone in almost a year.”
“I’ve been busy,” he tried to make an excuse. “And besides, Tom wants me to hire the guy, not get involved with him.”
“Interesting,” Mary looked thoughtfully at the beer Duff had just handed her. “Did he mention the guy’s name?”
“Nope,” Duff shook his head. “Just said he’s an architect or something.”
“Hey, look, there’s Adam!” she changed the subject suddenly, waving over Duff’s roommate from freshman year.
“Hey guys,” Adam grinned in the way that only Adam could, with no lips and no teeth showing.
“How’s it goin’, man?” Duff bumped his shoulder into the smaller man’s. “How’s the girl friend?”
“It’s goin’, it’s goin’,” Adam answered, knocking his shoulder back against Duff before hugging Mary Alice. “What about you? Still doing cakes out of your kitchen?”
“Yep,” Duff replied, “I’ve got more orders than I can handle these days. My kitchen looks like a flour tornado went through it.”
The three snickered loudly. Duff’s kitchen had always looked like a flour tornado had gone through it when he baked.
“Well, good for you,” Adam squeezed his shoulder lightly. “We’ll have to hang out at some point soon, alright?”
“Absolutely,” Duff agreed. “Tell the girl friend I said ‘Hi!’.”
“Will do,” Adam shook his head at Duff’s friendly nature that hadn’t changed since they were kids. “By the way, Tom was looking for you earlier.”
“I bet he was,” Duff looked around the room, almost expecting Tom to be lurking behind a table in wait. “Thanks, man.”
Adam grabbed two drinks from the table and disappeared back into the crowd, giving Duff a few minutes to look around and see what had changed in The Mill.
Duff had always believed the most interesting part about The Mill was the fact that it was a regularly changing piece of art that created a living space. Since it was an old warehouse building, it had a large open floor plan that had no permanent walls other than the supporting outer walls. When Tom renovated, instead of building permanent walls, which would’ve cost a small fortune, he chose to go with the cheaper route of using partitioning walls to divide the space.
At least once every few months, the current inhabitants of The Mill would rearrange the walls to create a new shape to their living spaces. Once, in the time Duff was living there, they decided to build a large labyrinth and use the dead-end turns as the bedroom areas. Other times they had used the walls to spell out words or create complex shapes that could only be seen when viewed from the raised balcony on the east side of the building, next to the small room that had once served as the main office for the warehouse. Currently, the walls were arranged in to create triangular and diamond shaped rooms with openings at the apexes of the shapes to allow movement between the different areas.
As a number of The Mill’s residents were artists, there was also a steady influx of new and interesting art pieces that were displayed in the space. In the area that served as a kitchen, where Duff and Mary Alice were currently hanging out, he could see a large modern sculpture that was built entirely out of old kitchen appliances. Through one of the openings into another room, he could see a portrait of a dog in the bright colors of the Fauvist style.
Duff knew that if he took the time to wander about he’d see a lot of new art he hadn’t seen yet, but he was at a party, and parties weren’t time for contemplating art. Especially when he was at a party, because he was always the life of the party.
“There you are!” Tom’s voice startled Duff out of his thoughts. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show, man.”
“I would’ve been here sooner, but since there’s no parking…” Duff rolled his eyes with a laugh and hugged his friend.
“Ah, yeah, well,” Tom looked a little sheepish. “The kickback turned out to be larger than I thought it would.”
“Seriously,” Duff agreed with a wide grin. “The place looks amazing though.”
“We’ve got a couple new artists-in-residence,” Tom gestured at the appliance sculpture. “Ayanah has a show downtown next month.”
“That’s awesome, man!” Duff’s ears perked up when the music in the building changed from the stereo system to the sound of live guitars being strummed. “Who’s playing tonight?”
“Eh, some of the guys just wanted to jam,” Tom shrugged. “You want in?”
“Hell yeah!” he bounced with excitement, like a five year-old on Christmas morning. “Can I borrow your bass?”
“Sure thing,” Tom laughed at Duff’s enthusiasm. “You know where it is. I’ll let the guys know you’re in.”
“Sweet!” Duff shouted and gave Tom a high-five before he ran off to get the instrument from the band storage area against the far wall. He may have been a cake decorator working out of the small kitchen in his apartment, but Duff’s real love was music. He’d been so busy with cakes recently that he hadn’t even been able to find time to jam with his friends or his on-again-off-again band, and so he jumped at the opportunity to play a little.
By the time he joined the rest of the guys five minutes later, Tom had already talked to them and set up for Duff to plug in. He didn’t recognize a couple of the guys, but Tom quickly remedied that by introducing him to Jacob, Pete, and Geof, with a quick round of handshakes.
Jacob and Pete seemed nice enough to Duff, if they were a little quiet with their acoustic guitars, but it was Geof who caught Duff’s attention. He didn’t say a word throughout the entire exchange, only shook Duff’s hand when prompted, and then disappeared to the back of the group.
“Let’s rock!” one of the guys shouted, and the crowd screamed back, causing Duff to burst into excited laughter.
Frankie, the drummer, tapped out a quick rhythm and they launched into the music. For the next thirty minutes they played cover after cover while different people got up to sing lead vocals. There were catcalls and jokes and jibes from the audience and band alike, and Duff was enjoying himself so much he forgot about the quiet musician. It wasn’t until the band took a break that Duff even saw him again.
“Who wants to improv?” Jacob asked the group after downing a beer. “Let’s see what all you girls actually got in you.”
“I’m in,” Duff jumped in. There was nothing he liked better than to steal the show with a crazy bass line.
Everyone else agreed and looked at Geof, the only one who hadn’t spoken up.
“Alright,” the slender man agreed almost reluctantly.
Duff watched the other man and wondered if he was stoned, but brushed the thought aside when he saw Geof disappear to the back of the stage again, this time reappearing a moment later with a trumpet in hand. Well, this ought to be interesting, he thought to himself and grabbed the bass.
Frankie set a different rhythm and they all jumped in when they had a feel for the music. They were all talented musicians, so it didn’t sound like a kindergartner banging on a bunch of pots and pans, but Duff thought it actually sounded half-way decent. They took turns breaking off to lead the song, giving each musician a chance to showcase how well he played and could lead, but also showed how well he could follow when it was someone else’s turn to lead.
When Duff finally got his chance, he rocked out a loud, thumping rhythm that overshadowed every other instrument. He refused to give up the spotlight, completely oblivious to the fact that the audience was starting to get bored by him, until a high trill overtook the deep bass and he was forced to step back in confusion.
The trumpet, a shiny bit of brass played by skillful fingers, caught the attention and shouts of the crowd, drawing the previously-quiet musician to the front and giving the music a distinctive, jazzy feel.
People started to dance at that point, and when Geof stepped back a minute later, they continued to play in that style until everyone had a chance to lead and Frankie brought a song to an end that was punctuated by the screams and catcalls of everyone at the party.
Duff turned around to see dozens of people slapping Geof on the back. Geof, for his part, looked incredibly embarrassed and tried to slip away from the mass of people surrounding the make-shift stage.
Duff, while annoyed that the scruffy-faced musician had stolen his limelight, was as impressed as everyone else in the building, but still chose to let Geof disappear rather than approach him.
“So what’d you think of him?” Tom asked from right behind Duff, causing the larger man to jump.
“Fuck, Tom!” Duff hollered. “What are you talking about?”
“Geof,” Tom rolled his eyes at Duff’s obtuseness. “The guy I was telling you about.”
The cake decorator contemplated his answer for a moment before he spoke, but replied with his patented grin, “I feel like maybe we can do business.”