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Four Last First Dates

Page 4

by Kate O'Keeffe


  “The ring was in it?” Paige’s voice was excited.

  “Don’t tell me you took a swing at it!” My eyes wide.

  “Even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have managed to hit it, anyway,” Cassie replied with a laugh.

  “True.”

  “And then, he asked me to open the ball. Of course, I looked at him like he was insane, but when I felt it, I could tell it wasn’t a real ball. I flipped it open and saw this ring, sitting inside as though in a ring box.” She held it up for us to admire once more.

  “And Will was just standing there next to you?” Paige asked, riveted.

  Cassie shook her head. “No. When I finally dragged my eyes from the ring, he was down on one knee.”

  “Oh, my.” I placed my hand on my heart as Paige clapped her hands together again, and Marissa squealed.

  Really, we were like a bunch of women in a Jane Austen novel, swooning at a gentleman’s charming marriage proposal.

  “What did he say?” Marissa asked. “Word for word.”

  “Well, he told me he loved me, that he couldn’t imagine not being with me forever, and that he wanted to grow old with me, surrounded by our children and grandchildren.”

  In unison, we all let out an “Aww!”

  “And then he took the ring out of the ball case, which he’d bought online somewhere. Apparently, there’s a market for this sort of thing.” She shrugged. “Who knew?”

  “Then he slipped it on your finger, you said yes, and you had the most magical kiss of your life,” Paige said.

  “Yes, actually. That’s exactly how it went.”

  I’d been holding my memories back, not allowing myself to think of my own proposal. But they pushed through, my mind darting to the moment Dan had presented me with a ring, when he’d uttered those four wonderful words I wanted to hear from him. Will you marry me?

  We were on a weekend away in the Hawke’s Bay region, the picturesque “fruit bowl of New Zealand.” Although I wasn’t much of a cyclist, we’d hired a couple of bikes and cycled along a path by the stunning Tuki Tuki River, past vineyards and orchards, out to a golden sand beach. On a picnic blanket in the shade of a beautiful, old pohutukawa tree, he pulled a small box out of his backpack, and presented me with the most exquisite ring I’d seen in my life. Ornate, old fashioned, perfect.

  It was a precious memory—one I kept tucked away, safely inside. One I chose not to visit too often.

  “I know it’s only just happened, but you girls know you’re going to be my bridesmaids, right?” Cassie said.

  There were excited exclamations from the others at the table. I had to shake myself out of my memory and paste on a smile. “I would love to be a bridesmaid, thank you.”

  “Best. Bridesmaids. Ever,” Cassie declared. “And there won’t be any horrendous meringues or ugly bridesmaid dresses in sight. You will all look beautiful, I promise.”

  As the others talked about what sort of wedding Cassie wanted, I noticed the line of customers growing. I seized the chance to leave, so excused myself to go help Sophie.

  Once I’d served up a slice of flourless chocolate and raspberry cake to the last in the line of customers, I opened the cabinet to rearrange what was left of our sweet treats and work out what we needed to replace before the lunchtime rush.

  I let out a long sigh. I was happy for Cassie and Will. They were so good together, so right. Only . . . well, their happiness simply served to amplify my own loneliness—and the fact I once had what they have now.

  My chest ached as I tried not to think about Dan.

  After I’d said “yes” that day, we sat together on the picnic blanket, me leaning against him, both of us looking out to sea. We listened to the waves lapping at the shore, hearing the occasional squawk from a seagull overhead. We didn’t need to rush to tell anyone we were engaged, we just wanted to be. Him and me, together, basking in our love, happy.

  When I lost him, I lost that deep sense of contentedness I’d had, that feeling I belonged to someone. And he belonged to me.

  More than anything, I wanted to have that feeling once more.

  But now I was faced with the abject failure of the speed dating excursion Marissa was so certain would work for me. I was back to the drawing board.

  It was just me and my memories of what I used to have.

  “Hey there, speed dater,” a masculine voice said, muffled by the fact my head was deep inside the cabinet.

  I jerked up to see who it was and banged the top of my head on the edge of the cabinet. I let out a yelp as I pulled my head out, rubbing where it had made contact.

  “Ow, that had to hurt.”

  I smiled, my face warming up as my tummy fluttered at the sight of the man on the other side of the counter.

  Ryan.

  Still looking like Thor.

  Oh, my.

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” I managed through my embarrassment.

  “You really need to look out for those cabinets, you know. It’s widely known they want to bring down the human race and make us all into their slaves.”

  I let out a laugh as I looked up into his warm hazel eyes. He was even more gorgeous today, his beard freshly clipped, his pale blue shirt setting off his dirty blond hair. “What . . . what can I get you?”

  Say me, say me, say me.

  “A double shot latte, thanks.” He flashed his heart-stopping grin.

  Darn it.

  “Anything to go with that? We have a lot of different cakes.”

  He eyed the cabinet food, then shot me his grin once more. “I’ll take a slice of that gourmet pizza there, thanks.”

  “No cake? Let me guess, you don’t have a sweet tooth.” I wanted to keep him talking, even if it was just about cake.

  “Would you believe me if I said I was sweet enough?”

  Sweet? Maybe. Hot? Definitely.

  “That sounds a lot like one of those lines you mentioned last night.”

  “I’ve got more where that one came from.” His smile reached his eyes, his features softened.

  The effect was . . . well, I was forced to clear my throat. “Do you . . . ah, want that warmed up?”

  “Sure.”

  I passed the coffee order on to Sophie, who was gazing at Ryan from behind the counter. “One double shot latte coming up,” she said, her face flushing.

  Geez. Between our matching blushes, we could probably heat the coffee with our cheeks.

  He smiled at her and returned his gaze to me. “So, the speed dating was a bust?”

  “Yeah. I think I’ll just forget the whole thing.”

  “What? ‘Give up on love?’” He used air quotes to emphasize his sarcasm.

  I laughed. “Well, give up on speed dating, anyhow. Love? I’m still a believer.”

  He placed his elbow on the counter and leaned in toward me. His face a mere two feet from mine. My heart rate kicked up a notch or ten.

  “Love sucks, and the sooner you learn that, the better off you will be. Take it from someone who knows.”

  I creased my brow, taken aback by his bitterness. “Oh. Right.” I didn’t know quite what to say. I mean, how did you respond to that?

  Marissa materialized at his side, shooting me an enquiring look. I cast my eyes down, smoothing my apron over my full skirt. I took the opportunity to place the pizza slice on a plate and put it in the microwave to warm it up.

  “Hey, brother. What are you doing here?” Marissa gave Ryan a quick hug.

  “I was in the neighborhood and needed my caffeine fix. Don’t worry, I know this is your girls’ hang out. I’ll get it to go.” He turned to me and added, “If that’s all right?”

  “Sure,” I replied, still reeling. The microwave beeped behind me, and I turned to bag up the pizza.

  Sophie put the lid on his cup of coffee and handed it to him, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

  Give it up, Sophie. He’s anti-love.

  I handed him his snack. “Here you go.”

  He took the p
aper bag and looked into my eyes once more. “Thanks, Bailey.” He hesitated, his eyes on mine. “I’ll, ah, see you ’round.”

  “Sure.”

  There was something in his gaze I couldn’t read.

  “Are you heading back to your office?” Marissa asked him, and he nodded. “I’ll walk with you. Just give me a sec, okay?”

  Ryan walked toward the door. I smiled at Marissa and turned to go back into the kitchen. I had cakes to restock, not hot men to feel conflicted over.

  “Bailey?”

  I turned back. “What’s up?”

  Marissa looked down at her hands and then back up at me. “I’m sorry about my brother.”

  “Don’t be. He’s fine,” I lied.

  “He’s a work-in-progress.”

  “You mean the break-up?”

  She nodded. “I think he’s still messed up about women. She did a real number on him.”

  My heart softened. “Poor guy. It can be hard to get over someone.”

  She knitted her brows together. “Yeah.”

  The elephant in the room did a tap dance.

  She paused, and then added in a brighter tone, “That’s all I wanted to say. He can be a bit of a grump, thanks to Amelia breaking his heart like that.”

  Amelia. Hmmm. She had a lot to answer for.

  “Don’t worry about it.” I shot her a smile and she appeared to be satisfied. “Do you spend a lot of your time apologizing for your brother?”

  She shrugged. “I guess. Not as much as when she dumped him. He barely got off my sofa. But, hey, we’ve got much better things to focus on. Like being bridesmaids, right?”

  My heart warmed at the thought. “Exactly.”

  “Look, Ryan’s waiting for me, so I’d better go.”

  I looked out through the window and spotted Ryan’s broad back, his face in profile as he looked up the street, take-out coffee and bag in hand. He’d put his sunglasses on in the bright morning sun. “’Kay. See you soon.”

  Marissa left the café, walking down the street with Ryan, and out of view.

  After all this time alone, not wanting to even look at another guy, why did I have to go get feelings for someone who was more bitter than squeezed lemon?

  And not only that, someone who showed zero interest in taking things any further with me than just flirting—as nice as it was?

  I let out a puff of air. I was beginning to think it would be a million times easier just to stay single and forget this whole Last First Date thing.

  Chapter 5

  I PEERED OVER THE top of my laptop at Paige, trying to digest her latest business expansion idea. I’d learned since going into business with her that she had a lot of ideas. Some good, some borderline—some borderline insane.

  I was trying to work out where this latest one lay.

  “Don’t you see how perfect this could be? Catering is the next logical step for the Cozy Cottage.” Her face radiated enthusiasm.

  “How would this work, exactly?” I closed my laptop, giving her my full attention.

  “We would start off doing some small events, which we could advertise for on our website. We’d limit the menu to just a few dishes, finger food, desserts. You know, keep it simple.”

  “Paige, I’m not sure opening a catering business is exactly simple.”

  She pulled out a chair opposite me and sat down. The café was closed for the day, we’d completed the clean-up, and now I was trying to catch up on the accounts—the one thing I disliked about running the café. Paige’s boyfriend, Josh, had helped me out, but I still struggled with crunching the numbers.

  “I know it won’t be simple, but we’ve got such a great brand.”

  “We do?”

  I’d never thought about the Cozy Cottage as having a “brand.” To me, it was just the Cozy Cottage—a place I loved to be.

  “Yes! All that website stuff I put together reflects the feel of this place.” She looked around the room. “All of that is our brand. And it’s strong. Look at how busy we are every day. I think it’s the perfect time for us to branch out.”

  I chewed on my lip. A lot of cafés also catered events, so it wasn’t like we’d be doing something out of the ordinary. But the thought of taking a risk when I’d just got so comfortable with the way things were scared the living daylights out of me.

  “Look.” Paige placed her hands on the table. “How about I put a business plan together? I can work out costs, potential profit margins, that sort of thing. Then we can talk again?”

  “I don’t know, Paige. It sounds like a big risk to me. I like where we are right now. It’s good, it works.”

  I wasn’t sure why I was so reluctant. I mean, I’d made a huge change to the business by bringing Paige in as a partner, plus we’d introduced the Cozy Cottage Jam sessions, loved by local musicians and customers alike. We were on a high, and business had never been better.

  But, for some reason, branching out into catering felt like a step too far for me.

  Paige leant across the table and placed her hand on top of mine. “Bailey, let me show you how good this could be, okay?” Her face was so open, so full of hope.

  Saying no to her right now would feel like punishing a puppy.

  I shrugged. “Sure. I guess it can’t hurt to see what you suggest.”

  She leant back in her chair, grinning. “Awesome! I’ll work on it over the next few days. Once you can see how much sense it makes for us to do this, we can take on a client.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “A client?”

  She nodded, biting back a smile. “Actually, I’ve already found us one.”

  “But—”

  She interrupted me, her hand in the air in the “stop” sign. “Before you say anything, it’s not set in stone, but I know they’re looking for a caterer.”

  “You didn’t make a commitment to them that we’d do it, did you?”

  She shook her head. “All I said was we would be in touch if we decide to go down this route. But, Bailey, I know we will. And it’ll be such a success.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at Paige and her infectious optimism. Maybe this was what I needed to pull me out of my reverie, to give me the kick in the pants to try something new?

  And to take my mind off my Last First Date disaster.

  “Okay. Pull something together for me, and we’ll talk about it. That’s all I’m committing to right now.”

  Paige squealed. “This is going to be so great, Bailey!”

  I returned her smile. I hoped she was right.

  * * *

  The following morning, at the same time he turned up yesterday—not that I’d been checking the clock, you understand—Ryan sauntered into the café. He was looking just as Norse god-like as he always did, his stride strong and purposeful as he walked straight up to the register where I was handing an older man his change.

  “Thank you so much,” I said to the man with a smile, training my eyes on him rather than where they were straining to go. “I’ll bring your slice of cake over with your pot of Earl Grey tea when it’s ready.”

  The man thanked me, turned, and walked over to a table.

  I looked up at Ryan, doing my best to ignore the way in which my heart rate had kicked up a notch at the mere sight of him.

  Really, this guy was bad for my cardiac health.

  “Good morning, Ryan.”

  “Hey.” One of his sexy smiles teased at the edges of his mouth. He turned to glance around the café.

  I took the opportunity to take a deep breath to quell my nerves.

  He turned back and flashed me his devastating smile. “No kid sister, so the coast is clear.”

  “Marissa’s not usually here until ten or so.”

  “Good to know.”

  I shot him a sideways glance. “Are you avoiding her?”

  “No. It’s just this whole ‘Cozy Cottage is a girls’ hang out’ thing she’s got going on. You know, the no-men-allowed rule?”

  “I sure do.”r />
  For as long as I’d known Marissa, Cassie, and Paige they had made my café their own with only one rule—no men. Sure, they could talk about them—which they had done, a lot—but they couldn’t bring them here.

  “What I don’t understand is why their boyfriends are allowed here now, but not their dashingly handsome brothers.” He shot me a cheeky smile.

  I swear my legs could have buckled beneath me.

  “Well, not that I’m telling tales or anything, but Marissa was in here yesterday afternoon with that new boyfriend of hers.”

  He crossed his arms, his eyes dancing. “Really?”

  I laughed. “You didn’t hear it from me, okay?”

  “It’s all fuel in the ongoing sibling battlefield.”

  I smiled at him. This was easy, fun. If I could only get the message through to my tingling body not to notice how hot he was, we could have an easy-going friendship.

  Uncomplicated.

  “What about you?”

  “What do mean?”

  “I mean, do you bring any men here?”

  I blinked at him. Was he asking if I was still single? I’d have to have worked pretty fast since the speed dating evening if I wasn’t.

  “You mean other than the guy who thinks Reginald Whatshisname is the most undervalued member of the Starship Enterprise?”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “I knew he was your type.”

  I shrugged, enjoying our repartee. “How could I resist a geeky guy who wants to model his robot after me?”

  “Well, he chose the perfect model.”

  Damn, flirting with him was fun. “Err, thanks.” Heat bloomed once more in my cheeks.

  “What can you recommend?”

  For a moment I was confused, until I saw him nodding at the food in the cabinet at my side.

  I cleared my throat. “Well, we have a lot of cakes, as you can see. Plus, we’ve got the pizza you had last time. Would you like that again?”

  “Actually, I like the look of the cake stack thing there.” He pointed at one of the cakes in the cabinet.

  “Oh, that’s the Cassata alla Siciliana cake.”

  “The cassa-what?”

  I laughed. “Cassata alla Siciliana,” I repeated, pronouncing it in Italian the way my grandmother, Nona, had taught me. “It’s an Italian cake, a family recipe.”

 

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