Mom shouts my name from the living room. I set my cake down on a tray to cool, and leave the kitchen to see what she wants.

"What is it?"

Standing at the window, she looks through the Venetian blinds. "Vincent just got home."

I skip over to her, excited that he's around at last. It’s awesome to know he'll be able to taste my cake fresh from the oven. It's the first one I'm proud of.

I shake my head and snigger. “You’re worse that Mrs. Thorn.”

“Look.”

Glancing over mom’s shoulder toward Vincent's drive, my excitement is cut short.

Mom’s brows meet. "Do you know that woman?"

"No."

I feel sick.

"I saw him kissing her while you were busy," she says.

I frown. "What?"

"I thought you said he was single?" Mom sighs and pushes past me. Sitting down on the sofa, she picks up her book from the armrest. "Shame. You seemed to like him."

I glare at her. "He’s just someone I work for."

She fixes her eyes to her paperback. "Okay, darling. Whatever you say."

I feel my blood begin to boil. "What do you mean, whatever you say?"

She peers over the top of her book at me.

I shrug. "What?"

"I don't know, honey. You just seem . . . happy these days. Different."

I pause for a moment—letting the shock of seeing Vincent with some impossibly beautiful blonde girl on his drive sink in.

“Are you okay?” Mom asks. “You seem a little off color.”

I storm out of the living room.

So that’s Vincent's thing: charm the new recruits and then sleep with them.

Vincent will get a taste my perfect cake all right. All over his two-timing head!

Rushing outside, with my choice of weapon in the shape of a freshly baked sponge, I see the woman's car pull off down in street in the opposite direction to me.

I bolt right up to Vincent's front door and knock—hard.

* * *

“Baby?”

“Don’t baby me,” I spit back. “Who was that bitch?”

He squints.

“Don’t act all innocent, Vincent. Mom saw you kissing her.”

“And what about curtain twitchier, did she see it?” Vincent pushes me aside and looks around the street. “Did anyone else see it?”

“What are you doing?”

He snaps his gaze to me. “No one saw anything.”

I sneer. “Convenient.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Deny it all you like but you were caught. Who was blondie, huh? Your next trainee chef?”

He holds he hands up. “Now wait a minute, you have this all twisted.”

“I hope she can cook cake.” Just as I begin to push my sponge cake into Vincent’s face, he grabs my arms and yanks them down.

I wriggle. “Get off me!”

“Calm down.”

“I’ll scream,” I warn him.

He holds my wrists tight as I twist and fidget.

“Mel, just relax, I can explain—”

“Argggghhhhhhhhhh!”

Dropping my wrists, he clamps my mouth shut. I mumble and fight as he scoops his other arm around my shoulders and drags me inside the house.

When we get to the foot of his stairs, he pulls me tighter to his body. “You’ll wake him.”

My fight suddenly stops.

“Are you going to calm down?” Vincent softly says.

I nod.

“I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth. Please, don’t shout or scream.”

After a beat, he slowly pulls his hand away and I keep my promise.

Vincent’s breathing is heavy. He straightens up and runs a hand through his dark tousled hair, blowing out. “Christ. Remind me not to get into a fight with you.”

My face burns with rage and confusion.

“Your mom saw nothing,” he continues. “Nothing apart from an innocent peck on the cheek.”

“Who was she? And who shouldn’t I wake?”

He pauses. “You’ll stay quiet if I show you?”

“Yes.”

He exhales. “All right then. Let’s go.”

Feeling foolish, I hold up my cake which has miraculously retained its shape in the baking tin. “What about this?”

He takes it from me and places it on a hallway table. “Leave it here for now. Come.”

Vincent creeps up the stairs and I slowly follow.

* * *

“This is my son, Zach.”

I look down at the small sleeping shape of a boy. He’s wrapped up in a thick Transformers duvet. He must be four, five at a stretch.

“He slept in the car on the way back,” Vincent says. “I was with him and his mother for the day. That’s why I wasn’t at work.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“She only called to say she was coming over early this morning.”

“No, that you have a son. That you’re married.”

“Was married.” He looks down at the floor. “I’m sorry, Mel. I should have mentioned it before. Truth is that the last day or two has caught me completely off guard. I never anticipated how close we would get. I didn’t think I needed to say anything.” He looks back into my eyes. “But I was wrong.”

I shuffle closer. “I accept that. But I don’t remember reading that you had a family . . . an ex-wife.”

“I’ve never made a thing about my private life to the press. My family is the only thing I shield from the spotlight.”

I breathe out. “Must be hard.”

“Not as hard as only seeing my boy now and then.”

“What’s the story? I mean, why are you divorced and—”

“What?”

I shake my head. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

Vincent takes my hand in his. “No, it’s okay. I was married for three years and have been divorced since Zach was only a year old. Things just didn’t work out between me and his mother.”

“Did she cheat on you?”

He smiles. “No. And no, I didn’t cheat on her before you ask.”

“So what happened?”

“Our lifestyles were just too different. I was single-minded on the career and we just drifted apart. The painful reality was that I wasn’t much of a father to Zach. That’s why I moved back to Portland and opened up the restaurant. I wanted to spend more time with my boy.”

I study him. “Was she making it difficult?”

“Not at all. If anything I was, being too wrapped up in my professional life. Our split wasn’t acrimonious. She moved on with a new man in her life and I got stuck into work. She let me see Zach as much as I wanted but I was all over the country, all over the world. That’s why season nine of my show was cancelled. I gave it all up to be closer to my son.”

I push close to Vincent. I’ve never wanted to kiss him as badly as I do now.

Vincent smiles and looks off into the distance as I hold onto his hands. “Guess I’m going soft in my old age.”

“No. You’re growing up. Being a present father in your kid’s life. It’s good that you’re trying to make amends and be here for him.” I exhale. “I’m so sorry I went crazy before.”

“It’s all right, I get it.”

I shrug and look down at his son who’s still sleeping. “So . . . what now?”

“What do you mean?”

I switch my gaze back to Vincent. “What now . . . about us?”

“I don’t know really. I’d like to keep seeing you. I mean, after all we work together.”

“Want to keep it professional only?” The question hurts as it leaves my lips.

He shakes his head. “No. I want more.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

“But we’ll have to take things a little slower. Be more discreet so we—”

“Don’t confuse your son?” I finish.

“Exactly.” He pauses. “I’m thinking of taking him to a funfair that’s swinging by town tomorrow. You could come with us if you like?”

“Sure. I’d love to.”

Vincent pushes closer to me, his thumbs making tiny circles over my wrists. “If he asks who you are just say you’re a friend.”

“A friend from work?”

“That’s right. He’s too young to understand anything else.”

“Will your ex be okay? I mean, seeing you with a younger girl?”

He smiles. “She’s moved on so I don’t see why not. I just want to save Zach from any confusion. Like his mom and her new partner, he’ll get used to it in time.”

I look down at Zach and then back up at Vincent. “Why did you drive in your ex-wife’s car?”

“His mom’s SUV has child lock.”

“Oh.”

We both laugh.

Zach stirs.

“You better go,” Vincent says.

I stare into his eyes and smile. “Sure you don’t want me to tuck daddy in?”

His jaw sets.

“I could read you a bedtime story,” I add, biting my bottom lip.

Vincent breaths in and then exhales. “No. If you’re here in the morning when Zach wakes up he’ll only ask a million questions. Don’t worry, though, he’s going back home tomorrow evening. You can give me a bedtime story then.”

“Or act one out on you.”

“I’m counting on it.”