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Forced to Bake a Cake

Forced to Bake a Cake

Автором Stephen Measure

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Forced to Bake a Cake

Автором Stephen Measure

73 pages
1 hour
Aug 31, 2018


When a magical baker recommends you go elsewhere for your same-sex wedding cake, it's best to take her advice.

Aug 31, 2018

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Stephen Measure is an author of unconventional satires and strange stories.

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Forced to Bake a Cake - Stephen Measure


To Bake

A Cake

Stephen Measure

Silver Layer Publications

Copyright © 2017 by Stephen Measure

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or organizations is entirely coincidental.


Silver Layer Publications

P.O. Box 1047

Chino Valley, AZ 86323

Cover illustration by Michelle Chaves


October 2018: Added Also by page

Angelica sensed the couple as they approached her bakery. Paige had returned, and thankfully this time she wasn’t alone. There was a man with her. Angelica couldn’t see them yet, but she knew it must be Paige’s fiancé, Braxton.

It always surprised Angelica how often brides-to-be tried to order their wedding cake all by themselves, as if Angelica could make the perfect cake for the occasion without meeting the groom as well. The women thought they were saving their fiancé the hassle, that it was one less wedding arrangement he’d have to worry about. They’d show up with their mother, or with their friend, or, as in Paige’s case, they’d show up all alone. Perhaps that would be fine for a normal baker, someone who would show them a book of cakes and let them pick and then go on their way. But it didn’t work like that for Angelica. She had to meet them. She had to hear their names, their full names, from their own lips. She had to see the two together, to see the image their union displayed. How else could she make the perfect cake for their wedding?

Angelica stood behind her waist-high desk and eagerly waited as the couple walked up to her bakery and opened the door, a small silver bell attached to the doorframe chiming their arrival with an excitement that bounced off the dark wood paneled walls up, up, up until the merry tinkling of the bell echoed back from the vaulted ceiling of the three-story room.

When the young couple entered her bakery, Angelica could tell at first glance it was definitely Braxton who was with Paige. Angelica sensed the bond between them. Already strong, it would become even stronger tomorrow when they joined themselves as husband and wife. The thought brought a smile to Angelica’s lips as it so often did. Such a pleasure to meet couples like them. Such a pleasure to meet them as only Angelica could.

Both in their early to mid-twenties, Braxton and Paige were an interesting match. Paige was slim and petite, her body’s curves as subtle as a young teen yet her face full-grown woman. With her pale, caucasian skin, her freckles, and her light red hair, Paige gave Angelica the impression of a china doll, beautiful yet fragile, with a bruised soul plain for Angelica to see.

Braxton, on the other hand, had a strong, manly look to him. Seeing him walk in next to Paige, this lovely little china doll, brought an expression to Angelica’s mind: bull in a china shop. But the expression quickly faded at his first step. Yes, he was stocky and muscular, but he walked with precision and dexterity. A bull in appearance perhaps, but not in grace.

There was a hint of Asian features in his cheek bones, his eyes, his hair, and his skin tone. It was likely enough to confuse strangers about his genetic heritage, but for Angelica, who had seen countless faces in their countless varieties, there was no confusion: Braxton was half-Japanese, half-Caucasian. The Japanese blood was on his mother’s side, Angelica would wager, but that was only a guess. Genes were fickle things, and she wouldn’t know that for sure until later when she truly met him.

Braxton was athletic. Given his ancestry, it was inevitable that people joked about him being a karate master, but that was all wrong. His talent wasn’t karate. It was wrestling. Angelica was sure of it. His stocky, muscular build gave that impression, but it was his walk that made it obvious—arms free from his sides, feet wide apart, his whole stance signaling he was ready to drop at any time to one knee, scoop you over his shoulder, and slam you into the ground. Angelica could see a slight softening of the firmness to his neck and arms, which meant his wrestling years were behind him, but she would be willing to make a second wager that he had been a good one. The confidence in his eyes—like an unconscious challenge broadcast to everyone around him—had to have come from somewhere.

Angelica could immediately see he was well-suited for Paige, the beautiful little china doll with a bruised soul, whose long-buried pain rumbled deep within her, roiling her emotions and threatening to break her, the fragility to her looks not only physical but emotional as well. Angelica was pretty sure she knew what had caused that bruise, but that wasn’t a topic she would ever wager about. She loved meeting the couples for whom she baked her cakes, but that was the kind of thing she hated knowing for certain.

But Braxton seemed perfect for Paige. Angelica sensed it with his second step into her bakery. And their image starting shining through to her. Not a strong ex-wrestler walking next to his slender, fragile fiancée, but a knight in shining armor carrying his damsel in distress in his arms.

Angelica closed her eyes, letting this truth sink into her. Then she opened them again as the couple were halfway to her desk.

Paige had already been in Angelica's bakery earlier

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