It's an emergency.
It's a goddamn freaking emergency and Scott isn't picking up his phone.
Stiles is this close to losing it. He's pacing back and forth in his office, taking deep breaths with such a ferocity that has Erica knocking on the glass window to make sure he hasn't passed out.
"Fucking hell, dude, pick up the fucking phone," Stiles shouts at the abstract painting on the wall.
Erica flings open the door to his office and stares at him up and down before deciding on what to say. Which are the exact words: "You need help."
"The bakery we hired to do the cake- they cancelled." Stiles pauses. "It's three weeks till the wedding, and they actually cancel on us. This is not okay!"
"Oh my god, the world is ending." Erica drawls sarcastically, chewing on one of her perfectly manicured nails. "I'm sure he'll call you back once he sees the hundreds of missed calls you've left."
His phone starts ringing as soon as Erica finishes talking.
"Speak of the devil," Erica rolls her eyes.
"Ha, very funny," Stiles says, mimicking her eye-roll. "I bet you were looking for the very chance to say that."
Once she flounces out of the room, with a big smirk across her face, Stiles grabs the phone.
"Yeah?" Scott asks, sounding suspiciously flustered.
"Oh god were you and Allison- did I keep calling you when you and Allison- " Stiles groans.
"What? Oh god, man, no- no, I just got back from the gym." Scott laughs.
"Okay phew, I was ringing you to say- the freaking bakery cancelled on us." Stiles replies irately. "I just cannot believe it would cancel on us on a date so close to the wedding."
"What!?" Scott barks. "Why? No- no, this cannot be happening. We're going to have to get another bakery last minute now."
"I know, I know. Is Allison there?" Stiles asks.
"Uh huh," Scott responds. "Should I put you on speaker?"
"Please do," Stiles says impatiently.
"Stiles," Allison's voice comes through all crackly. Damn Scott for having a shitty phone. "I heard the baker cancelled. So what should we do?"
"We'll obviously have to get a new baker first." Stiles replies. "I have some contacts that could link me to good patisseries, but before I start making calls, do you guys have any recommendations?"
"None from me," Scott comments.
"Thanks Scott," Stiles says in the sassiest voice he can muster. "That was an incredibly helpful piece of information."
"I've only heard of one- and like, his cakes and stuff are really nice. My Aunt used to bring them home all the time- before she went to prison. Um I'm not sure if he does wedding cakes though but it's worth giving him a try. His name's Derek Hale and he works at ABO café down near Burwood Road." Allison says.
"I'll check it out; I have to head down to my Dad's tonight for dinner anyway. I think I've driven past it a couple of times. I didn't think they sold baked goods; it looked more like a bar. What does ABO stand for? I've always wondered." Stiles replies curiously.
"Alpha Beta Omega. Aunt Kate always said that Derek had a fascination with Wolves." Allison says cheerily.
"Alright thanks guys. I'll call you later and tell you how it goes. Bye for now. Stiles is out." Stiles hangs up. Yeah he sounds incredibly lame but his best friends are used to it and he loves them for that.
He then proceeds to plonk himself on his swivelling chair, laptop balanced dangerously on his knees and begins a Google search of 'ABO Café'.
What he's surprised to find though, is more information about Derek Hale than the actual bakery/café whatever. There are all these results popping up from Google News about a house fire that occurred ten or so years ago in Beacon Hills.
The funny thing is that Stiles has never heard of Derek Hale before, but he keeps in mind to badger his dad later that night about this man.
He wants to know who exactly he may or may not hire.
That's just the way Stiles works.
It's 3pm in the afternoon when he pulls up in front of ABO Café. He's glad to see that it's open and a rather delicious smell is wafting onto the front car-park.
The whole building is black and dark red, with a fancy logo spelling out 'ABO' plastered at the front. It's nicely decorated but it's easy to see why people would view this as a bar or nightclub rather than a café.
Stiles slams the car-door of his jeep and waltzes up red Lego-themed steps leading up to the entrance.
Once he's inside, he has to take a moment to view the whole area. He's in awe at the massive cocktail bar and the leather couch booths, the polka-dot bean bags and the large dance area on the other side.
There's a sign by the silver spiral staircase saying "PATESSERIE UPSTAIRS. Open 7am-6pm" and outlining all of today's specials.
Just as he's absorbing this 'cool' in, Isaac Lahey- an old friend (well kind of) from High School wanders up to him.
"Hey, Stiles, haven't seen you in a long time. What're you doing here?" Isaac questions, flashing him a friendly smile.
"Oh hey, Isaac." Stiles greets awkwardly because he had previously-thought-that-Isaac-left-Beacon-Hills-af ter-his-Dad-died-and-never-to-return. "I didn't know you worked here. Um, well, I'm looking for Derek Hale."
"Okay, well, he's upstairs. I'll take you to him, just follow me," Isaac begins walking up the staircase. "Why do you need to see Derek?"
"I heard about him from Allison Argent, her and Scott are having their wedding soon. I'm their wedding planner- just FYI. The bakery that they had previously hired pulled out so- I'm just inquiring on whether he does wedding cakes." Stiles follows after him.
"Well just go through that door." Isaac points at a pair of double glass doors. "Good luck with Derek. He doesn't usually do events unless he likes the people involved. So yeah. Good luck again."
"Alright, thanks dude," Stiles thanks him kindly.
Soon enough he's entered the doors of the bakery and he thinks that he's going to trip over his own feet because fuck- he never expected for Derek to be this hot. Or scary. He can't choose whether Derek is more hot than scary- or if it's the other way around.
His thick (but sexy) eyebrows are furrowed in deeply as he's icing a chocolate cupcake with an intricate pattern that Stiles is left dumbfounded at.
"Yeah?" Derek asks aloud, not looking up.
"Hi, uh, my name is Stiles. I'm a wedding planner. And I was wondering if you were available to do a wedding cake for a wedding that is three weeks from now." Stiles clears his throat.
"No." Derek replies shortly.
"Excuse me?" Stiles decides to bring out to attitude because he is now officially pissed. "Why?"
Derek sighs disinterestedly, and tucks his newly iced cupcake into the display container before looking up.
"Because I'm busy." Derek rolls his eyes.
Stiles attempts to appear like he's listening and definitely not daydreaming about running his fingers across Derek's jaw, and all over that perfectly kept stubble.
"Okay look man, it's my best friend's wedding and our baker cancelled on us three weeks before the wedding date. I only came to you because the bride- Allison Argent- I don't know if you recognize that name or not- told me to see if you would do it." Stiles expresses agitatedly.
"Argent?" Derek looks like he's contemplating something.
"Yeah, Allison Argent. Apparently Kate Argent used to date you or something- so if that means something- you knowanything at all. Please do this. Are you worried about the money- because that isn't a problem, we can negotiate on a reasonable amount?" Stiles pleads, fully aware that he's rambling on.
"Yeah it means something." Derek pauses.
"So you'll do it?" Stiles nearly squawks with excitement.
"Nope," Derek retorts coolly, but the corner of his mouth is twitching and Stiles swears he's getting some sort of sick enjoyment out of this.
At this point Stiles feels like all hope is lost so he resorts to giving Derek his business card.
"Well if you change your mind just take this," Stiles is handing over it.
"Fine, I'll just put it down here then," Stiles mutters lamely as he sees that Derek is making no attempt to take it off him.
He turns to start walking out, feeling flustered, annoyed, embarrassed and disappointed when he hears Derek call out behind him.
"Wait."
He spins around at the heel of his converse.
"Yeah?" Stiles asks wearily.
"Stilinski?" Derek questions, glancing at the dark blue card on the counter. "Are you related to Sheriff Stilinski?"
"Uh huh, why? I'm his son." Stiles raises an eyebrow because he's unsure if this is going anywhere.
"I'll see you tomorrow morning at 9am sharp. That's when I'm on break. My office is behind the bar. Bring the bride and groom and we'll discuss the details." Derek says sharply.
Stiles can't help but smile to himself.
"See you tomorrow morning, then." Stiles walks up to the display of all the goodies that Derek apparently hand-makes. "Also, can I have one of those chocolate truffle tartlets? And a low-fat raspberry and white chocolate muffin- for my dad you know, health problems."
"Sure, Stiles." Derek smirks.
"Thanks, Derek." Stiles replies pointedly.
Derek hands him a fancy maroon box with the items that look and smell positively mouth-watering.
His fingertips briefly brush against Derek's and it's not long before his heart decides to thump erratically in his chest and elephants decide to start a stampede down in his stomach. Well fuck. He doesn't understand how he can possibly start liking someone so quickly.
But when he leaves the ABO Café, his mood has increased considerably and seems like the wedding is back on track again. He just hopes that lovely, lovely Derek isn't a complete asshole tomorrow.