Four Last First Dates

by Kate O'Keeffe

  The grin on my face was wide when I turned to Paige. “It’s perfect. I know I couldn’t have ever done anything like this.”

  “Thanks. I’m no web expert, but I’ve learned a few things.”

  “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

  She returned my grin. “We are.”

  A host of emotions raced through me, from nerves to excitement and everything in between.

  Paige pulled her phone out of the front pocket of her Cozy Cottage Café apron and scrolled through it. “You might remember I’ve scheduled a meeting with our first clients for—” She looked up at me with a glint in her eye. “—right about now.”

  I furrowed my brow. I recalled her mentioning an appointment our first potential clients, but it had slipped my mind. “But, Paige, we’re about to close up for the day.”

  She shrugged in response. “Sophie? You on it?”

  She walked past us with a tray in her hands. “Totally on it.”

  “See? Come with me. They should be here by now.” She closed her laptop and walked around the counter and out into the café. It was emptying out with no customers at the counter, just the few late-lunch stragglers we often got on a Saturday. I followed her to a table in the window.

  When I spotted the two faces beaming at me, everything fell into place.

  I let out a happy sigh, shaking my head. “Cassie and Will. You’re our first ever catering customers?”

  Cassie’s grin was so broad, she looked like her face could crack in two. Her eyes roved from me to Will and back again. “If that’s okay with you?”

  “Are you kidding? Of course it’s okay!” They stood up, their chairs scraping across the hardwood floors. I hugged them both, wondering how we’d manage to be bridesmaids and cater the wedding. We were going to need to invoke some sort of superpowers that day.

  “That’s good to hear. We don’t have a Plan B,” Will said.

  Paige and I sat down at the table with the happy couple.

  “As soon as Paige told us you were going to do this, we just knew we wanted you to cater our wedding,” Cassie said.

  Will nodded his agreement. “Although the deal is, I help choose the food and you do everything else, right, honey?”

  Cassie shook her head, laughing. “Don’t forget you’ve got to turn up on the day, too.”

  “Gotcha.” He gave her a wink.

  “Look at them, Bailey. The first of our pact to marry her Last First Date.” Paige put her hand over her heart. “And we get to be a big part of it. This could not be more perfect.”

  “That’s true.” Cassie gazed at her beloved, who returned her smile tenfold.

  My neck became stiff. As good as Paige and I were at running the café, even branching out into light dinners and wine for our Cozy Cottage Jam sessions, we hadn’t ever catered an event before, let alone a wedding. Doing Cassie and Will’s was like we were trying to compete at the Olympics before we’d even begun to crawl.

  I put my hand on Cassie’s arm. “Are you sure? We’re brand new at this, and we’d hate to mess things up for you.”

  “We have faith in you. And you won’t mess it up,” Cassie replied. “You know the Cozy Cottage has always been special to us.”

  “Yup,” Will agreed, giving his fiancée’s hand a squeeze. “I think Cassie fell for me when she found out this was my favorite café. I passed some kind of ‘chick test,’ right, Dunny?”

  Cassie hit him playfully on the arm. “You said you weren’t going to use that terrible nickname anymore. I don’t like being called ‘toilet’ in Australian, thank you very much, Poop Boy.”

  Paige and I laughed. Will had abbreviated Cassie’s last name, Dunhill, to “Dunny” a long time ago, and she’d retaliated with an equally terrible toilet-themed name for him. With the amount of ribbing they gave one another at the time, we should have known they would end up in love.

  That level of teasing is often accompanied by some serious electricity.

  Cassie turned back to me. “You have to make the cake. I know exactly what I want, too.”

  “Let me guess,” Paige interrupted. “Chocolate and raspberry flourless cake, by any chance?”

  Cassie grinned, her eyes dancing. “You know me too well.”

  “To be fair, it’s all you’ve ever eaten here. In fact, without you, we’d be left with half a cake at the end of every day,” I replied with a chuckle. “Now that I think about it, it’s a miracle you’re not the size of a house!”

  The four of us girls were certainly creatures of habit when it came to cake. Cassie’s favorite was our flourless raspberry chocolate cake, Paige’s was carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, Marissa’s was the orange and almond syrup cake, and mine was Cassata alla Siciliana. All Nona’s recipes, all totally delicious.

  “Well, you can’t have too much of a good thing,” Cassie replied. “But for our wedding cake, we’d actually like to go more traditional.”

  I raised my brows. “You would?”

  Cassie shot Will a smile. “Yeah. My mom and dad kept their wedding cake and had a small slice every year. I think it’s romantic.”

  “A traditional fruit cake then, huh?” I asked.

  Cassie nodded. “Can you make that?”

  Paige laughed. “You’re asking the queen of cakes if she can make a fruit cake?”

  I smiled as I thought of the fruit cake Nona and I had made each year for Christmas. Although she made the tradition Italian cake, Pannetone, as well, she had this idea that guests In New Zealand would prefer the traditional fruit cake. So bake it we did. “Yeah, I can. I’ve got just the recipe.”

  A group of late-lunch seekers entered the café, and Paige and I bid farewell to the happy couple to tend to the new patrons. Between the usual daily café business, we spent the rest of the day talking about the new catering business and thinking up ideas for Cassie and Will’s wedding. Sophie was a godsend, as usual, satisfying customer’s often elaborate coffee requests. Half caf, full cream, soy milk, caramel syrup.

  I mean, whatever happened to ordering just a cup of coffee?

  The last customer served, we closed up for the day. Paige and I sat down to finalize the website details before we went “live.”

  “Ready?” Paige’s finger was poised over the mouse.

  “Ready.”

  I held my breath as she clicked the “publish” button.

  “And . . . we’re live!”

  “Congratulations, you two.” Sophie peered over my shoulder at the screen. “If you need any wait staff, my roommate is always looking for some extra cash.”

  I looked up at her. “Does she have waitressing experience?”

  “He does. And he’s cute, too,” she added with a wink. “He’s putting himself through med school. Gone back after a few years in the workforce.”

  “Is he single? How old is he?”.

  I knew where Paige was going with this.

  “He’s single, and I don’t know. Thirty or something? Old.”

  I chuckled. I remembered when I thought thirty was old, too. That ship had sailed.

  “Thirty-something, single, smart, and cute?” Paige shot me a meaningful look.

  “Paige,” I warned.

  My mind instantly darted to Ryan. He was thirty-something, single, smart, and cute.

  And also, a total hot mess.

  “Bailey, we’ll need wait staff,” Paige said. I shrugged in response. She was right, and a bit of eye candy couldn’t hurt for us old, single types. Well, old according to Sophie, anyway.

  “Can you flick me his number?” Paige asked.

  She slipped her phone out of her jeans pocket and tapped on the screen. “Done. His name is Jason Christie. See you ladies tomorrow.” She flashed us a grin as she collected her purse from the back of the kitchen.

  “Cute name,” Paige lead.

  I let out a sigh. “No way.”

  “What? You signed up to the pact, and the speed dating thing didn’t work out.”

 
The memory of the men I’d met that evening had me shuddering. “Definitely not.”

  “So, you need to put yourself out there.”

  “Paige, as much as I love you, I don’t think ‘putting myself out there’ with an employee is a great way to go. No matter how cute he allegedly is.”

  “I guess there is that. But we’re not giving up on this, you know.”

  I shrugged. “Okay.” Although I would like a change of subject. “Now, how about we work out a few options for the wedding and then call it a night?”

  Thinking about someone else’s happily ever after was preferable to thinking about my own lack of one. And I hoped throwing myself into a new business venture would be just the distraction I needed.

  Chapter 9

  THE WHOLE NEXT WEEK was business as usual at the café, and coming up with new and fun ideas for Cassie and Will’s wedding. They had given us a few guidelines on their tastes, with one thing we had to supply—gourmet burgers. Apparently, they’d bonded for the first time over the “best burgers in town” at a diner and they wanted to remember that on their big day.

  Yeah, I know. Cute and romantic, right?

  I grabbed a few minutes after the lunch rush to catch up on invoices and noticed an email inquiry via our website, asking us to quote for an upcoming event. It was only small, catering lunch for twelve at a meeting of a company board. But it was our first client—well, the first one we didn’t know personally, anyway.

  I smiled to myself. Maybe this catering idea was just what I needed to take my mind off my lack of a Last First Date?

  I jumped up from my seat at the kitchen counter, almost knocking Paige sideways in the process.

  “Whoa!” With impressive dexterity, she managed to keep a tray of frittatas and paninis balanced in her hands.

  “Sorry, sorry,” I said hastily. “Look!” I pointed at the screen, pressing my lips together to avoid squealing like an excited kid on Christmas morning.

  Paige put her tray down on the counter and peered at the screen. She straightened up and looked at me, her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God!”

  “I know, right?”

  I’m not proud, but we did actually hop up and down on the spot, clutching hands.

  Sophie walked into the kitchen carrying a stack of used dishes. “What’s going on, you two?”

  “We just got our first catering enquiry,” I told her, beaming.

  “Cool.” She placed the stack of dishes on the counter. “Guess you’d better call my sexy roommate Jason, then.” She shot me a look I chose to ignore.

  I mean, why was it when you were single everyone wanted to match-make you? As if you couldn’t be happy unless you were in a relationship?

  Forget the fact I’d agreed to a pact to marry the next guy I dated and did want to find my special someone. This was on principle.

  “We might need to win their business first before we go hiring anyone new,” I replied.

  “Well, when you do, let me know.” Sophie left the kitchen, heading back out to serve a customer.

  “I’ll email them back, ask them what they’re looking for, and send them some sample menus.” I sat back down at my laptop to compose a winning email.

  “Sounds great. Oh, I knew this would work.”

  As I began to type, I smiled to myself. I hoped she was right.

  * * *

  Later that day, I was working alongside Sophie at the counter serving the last lunch customers when Ryan sauntered across the café floor. He hadn’t come at his usual time again this morning, and I’d assumed it just wasn’t a day for the Norse gods to visit us mere mortals.

  Either that or he was just as confused by what had almost happened as I was.

  I mumbled my hello and tried not to notice the way his white shirt showed off his light tan, or the fact he shot me an electric look with those eyes of his when he said hello.

  “Hi, Ryan,” Sophie cooed beside me.

  “Hey, Soph. Looking good today.” He smiled at Sophie and then looked back at me. “You too, Bailey.”

  Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush.

  I blushed.

  Man, I was so predictable.

  “Are you after a coffee?” Sophie asked as I scanned the counter for something to cool my burning cheeks.

  I found nothing.

  “Sure am.”

  “Your usual? Or did you want to try something new?”

  “My usual would be great, thanks.”

  Knowing my face was probably the color of a ripe tomato about now, I excused myself, turned, and walked into the kitchen. I placed my palms on the cool counter then lifted them to my face, hoping they would counter the heat.

  What was it about this guy that made me constantly react like a teenager with a crush?

  “You okay?” Paige’s voice startled me. “You look all hot and bothered.”

  “Oh, yes. Fine, thanks.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me, unconvinced. “Something’s got you worked up.”

  “What? Oh, nothing. It’s just a hot flash or something. Weird, right?”

  What? I was menopausal now?

  “A hot flash?”

  Before I could stop her, she shot past me and out into the café.

  I scrunched my eyes shut. Only Ryan and Sophie were at the counter when I came in here. It wouldn’t exactly take a rocket scientist to put two and two together and work out “Bailey’s got a crush on Ryan.”

  I moved further into the kitchen, searching for something to do to take my mind off what was coming, when Paige came back in. My secret crush would be outed, and she’d make it her personal mission to match-make Ryan and me.

  This was not going to be pretty.

  I began to rinse the stack of lunchtime dishes, placing them in the industrial dishwasher. It didn’t take long before Paige was standing beside me.

  “There are two possibilities here—you either like an elderly gentleman with a walking stick and a cravat who just walked in, or someone else.”

  “Who said I liked anyone?” I bluffed.

  “Blushing usually equals attraction. And you’re far too young for the menopause, no matter what you claim.”

  “Maybe I’m coming down with something. Have you thought of that?”

  Yeah, I heard it. I was getting desperate now. I’d be talking about contracting Bubonic Plague in a moment.

  Paige shook her head. “No. You’re not sick. You like someone. You like Ryan Jones.”

  She’d hit the hot nail on the head. There was clearly no beating about the bush.

  I turned to look at her. “No. Yes.” I let out an exasperated puff of air. “I don’t want to.”

  A smile teased at the edges of her mouth. “But you do.”

  I bit my lip and nodded. I’d never been a good liar. Now wasn’t the time to try to improve my lack of skill in that department.

  Paige’s pretty face broke into a broad grin, and she placed her hand over her heart. “Oh, my gosh. You would be such a gorgeous couple! You with your dark hair and olive skin, and him with that blonde Northern European thing he’s got going on.”

  I wagged my finger at her. “No, Paige. No matchmaking. It’s just a silly crush because he’s all cute and Thor-like.”

  “Thor-like?”

  “You know, the superhero guy with the hammer?”

  “Ah, Chris Hemsworth.” She nodded, her eyes sparkling. “Yeah, I can totally see that.”

  “And anyway, he’s not interested in me.”

  Her eyebrows hit her hairline. “He’s not?”

  I shook my head. “No. He’s all bitter and twisted about his ex. You know that. He made it really clear he’s not looking for anything when he was over at my place last—” Too late, I stopped myself from finishing my sentence.

  The cat was well and truly out of the bag, prowling around the room.

  Paige’s eyes widened. “He was at your house?”

  “Don’t make a big deal about it, ’kay? He was just in the
neighborhood and dropped in to say hi. That’s all.”

  “Ryan Jones just happened to be in your neighborhood, huh?” Her eyes danced.

  “No, Paige. Don’t.”

  “What?” She was acting all innocent now. “It’s just interesting to me, that’s all. I mean, he doesn’t live anywhere near you, and he went to the effort to drop by when you were home?”

  Well, when she put it like that . . . No. I wasn’t going to make something out of nothing.

  “He’s moved, actually. He lives on Dorchester Street.”

  “Does he, now?” She tapped her finger to her chin. “Well, isn’t that convenient?”

  “Bailey? Paige?” Sophie called from the café.

  “I’ll take over here. You go out into the café, and Ryan.” Paige took a dirty plate from my hand and placed it in the dishwasher. “And we’ll talk about this later.”

  I knew exactly what she was doing.

  And part of me liked it, despite the fact she would be relentless with her matchmaking from now on.

  “Go on. Sophie needs you.”

  I let out a puff of air, shooting Paige a look.

  This was going to be excruciating.

  I walked through the kitchen and out into the café where a couple of women were perusing the cabinet food at the counter. Sophie was working at the coffee machine, and Ryan was standing beside the register. His eyes flashed to mine, and he shot me a smile before he looked away.

  “How may I help you?” I concentrated on the women at the cabinet—and definitely not on Ryan.

  “Which one of these cakes can you recommend?” a woman with bright purple hair asked. Her hair was possibly not altogether natural.

  “I’ve heard they’re all good. This place is famous for its cakes, right?” The second woman raised her brows at me.

  “We do enjoy our cake here, that’s true.” I smiled at them. “As for what I can recommend, it depends on what you like. The carrot cake with cream cheese frosting is super moist, and we like to think it’s a little healthy, due to the carrots.” I shot her a smile as I pointed at the next cake. “Then there’s the chocolate and raspberry cake. It’s gluten-free, if you’re into that. Most importantly though, it’s totally delicious.”