Four Last First Dates

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Four Last First Dates Page 11

by Kate O'Keeffe


  After warming up and growing my confidence, I suggested we play an actual game.

  “You serve,” he called out as he batted the balls down to my end of the court.

  I collected them up, stuffing a couple of them up the built-in shorts of my tennis skirt, ready to be pulled out when needed. I got myself into position, lined the court up, threw the ball into the air and hit it, watching as it landed within the service lines on Ryan’s side. He hit it back, right by the service line, and I had to run to get it, sneaking it over the net for a winner.

  “Lucky shot.”

  We continued to play, me taking the game in deuce. Then it was Ryan’s turn to serve. We switched court ends, as was the custom in tennis, and he waggled his eyebrows at me as he walked passed. “You ready for this?”

  “Go easy on me,” I pleaded with a flirty smile.

  And he did. His serve was strong and confident, and we had some great rallies. He won the game comfortably, but I didn’t mind. It was clear he was the much better player. I could live with that.

  We played a few more games until I called for a drinks break, my body screaming at me that it had had enough. With the amount of time the café takes up, I didn’t get much of a chance to exercise these days. Well, it was either that or the large amount of cake I got to eat most days.

  With our backs leaning up against the wire fence, we drank from our water bottles. My forehead was sweaty, and I wiped it with my wristband, thankful I’d remembered to sweep my hair up in a high ponytail.

  “You know, you’re not a bad player,” Ryan said.

  “Not quite as good as you.”

  “Well, you can’t be good at everything, can you? You are the reigning Wii Baseball champ.”

  “That’s true. Where’s my trophy, by the way? And my sash? I’m definitely going to need one of those.”

  He laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.” He turned to face me, leaning his shoulder against the fence. He reached out and took me by the hand. “There’s this thing I’ve got to go to on Friday night. It’s a ball, quite a fancy thing, I guess.”

  I hoped I knew where he was going with this. “Yes?”

  “I was wondering. Will you come with me? I mean, I know you have your concert thing, so you might not be able to.”

  I pushed myself off the fence and squeezed his hand. “Ryan, I’d love to.” An image of a fairytale ball, Ryan as the dashing prince, and me in a gorgeous, shimmering gown, flashed before my eyes.

  He smiled at me. “Great. It’s formal, so you’ll need a dress.”

  “I’ve got dresses.” In fact, virtually my entire wardrobe was dresses, thanks to my obsession with vintage ’fifties clothing. “And don’t worry about the Jam. The Cozy Cottage will survive without me for one night.”

  “Good. I guess it’s a date, then,” he said with a grin.

  I could almost hear Paige’s voice in my head. A Last First Date?

  I smiled back. “I guess it is.”

  Chapter 14

  THE FIRST THING I did when I got home from my tennis match with Ryan was pull all my evening dresses out from my closet, lay them on my bed, and run a critical eye over them. I mean, it’s not like a girl got invited to a ball every day of the week, was it?

  By the time I’d looked them all over, I’d determined they were either not dressy enough, not the right length, too conservative, or simply not “wow” enough for a Last First Date.

  Because that’s what I had allowed myself to think this was.

  And I was terrified and totally excited about it in equal measure.

  No one had made me feel the way Ryan did for a long, long time. Not since Dan had butterflies twirled in my belly, such enjoyment from simply being with someone. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling whenever I thought of him, warmth spreading through me.

  And the kissing? Well, I hadn’t had anything to match that, either.

  Not that I’d kissed anyone else since Dan had passed away, so there was probably not a lot to compare it with. But still.

  Since this was our first real date together, I wanted to look the best I could. So far, none of the dresses I had laid out on my bed came anywhere close.

  Nevertheless, I tried a few of them on, hoping one of them might work. You know how sometimes a dress looks quite average on a hanger and amazing on? Didn’t happen. Not one fit the bill. They were all perfectly nice, and I’d been happy to wear each and every one of them in the past, but because this was my Last First Date, the dress I wore on this date needed to be extra special.

  After all, one day I hoped to tell our grandchildren all about the magical first date I went on with their grandpop. Who knew? Maybe one day, one of our granddaughters would wear the dress I chose for the ball on her Last First Date?

  But then again, maybe I was getting a little ahead of myself.

  I stood with my arms crossed, tapping my chin with my index finger, trying to work out what to do. Should I buy a new dress? Should I pull out my sewing skills—which were poor at best—and make something?

  And then it struck me.

  I rushed out of my bedroom and down the hall. I pulled the door open to my small garage. There was a stack of boxes on one side, placed on top of an old leather travel trunk. I set to it unstacking the boxes. I wanted what I knew was in the trunk, something Nona had left me.

  You see, Nona had been quite the debutante in her day, back in Italy. She’d left me several dresses she’d worn going to fabulous balls and parties back in the ’fifties, which she’d had wrapped in acid-free paper and stored in the old travel trunk.

  Something told me I would be able to find what I was looking for in there.

  Ten minutes, the boxes moved, and much ferreting through the old trunk later, I’d found the perfect dress. I knew it the moment I clapped eyes on it.

  I unwrapped it carefully from its tissue paper and held it up against myself. It was the usual ’fifties cut with a nipped in waist and full skirt, complete with petticoats, falling mid-calf on me. The boned top was strapless with a heart-shaped neckline.

  Right there in my garage, I ripped my tennis gear off and slipped the dress over my head. It had a back zipper, which was tricky to do up on my own of course, but it fit perfectly.

  I rushed through the house to look at my reflection in the long lean-to mirror in my bedroom. I took in the cut of the dress, the way it showed off my curves in a thoroughly classy way, the nipped in waist accentuating my hour-glass figure. It was made of exquisite royal blue silk, and it rustled as I moved.

  As I looked at my reflection, I knew this was the right dress for the ball.

  I let out a contented sigh. The dress was perfect, the man was perfect. I knew the evening would be perfect, too.

  I felt like a princess.

  Yes, this is the dress.

  * * *

  The following day, Paige and I left Sophie in charge of the café to go on our very first Cozy Cottage Catering job. It was only a light lunch and finger food for twelve members of a board, who were meeting at a location downtown. But as it was our first, we were treating it as though we were catering to royalty.

  We were due to meet Jason at the venue, a high-rise building in the center of town, and I’ll admit I was more nervous about seeing him than I was about the job. He’d been playing on my mind since we met a couple of days ago.

  “Can you to tell me what happened on Saturday afternoon? You know, after you left so suddenly when Jason came to the café?” Paige asked as I drove us through the busy city streets to the hotel.

  I came to a stop at a set of traffic lights. “I guess.”

  “Come on, Bailey. You can tell me. I’ve been trying to work it out and I came up with one possibility.”

  I glanced at my friend in the passenger seat. Her face was creased in concern for me, and I had a sudden desire to come clean with her.

  “I know this is going to sound really stupid, and I’m kind of embarrassed. But the thing is, Jason reminded me of someone
.” I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.

  “Dan.” Paige’s voice was soft.

  I snapped my head in her direction. “How did you know?”

  “After you left, Josh came by to pick me up and he said the same thing. He said it gave him a shock to see someone who looked so much like his brother.”

  “Oh.”

  “Look, why don’t you drop me and the food at the venue? Jason and I can manage just fine without you.”

  I shot her a smile. Paige was such a sweet friend and her kindness had me blinking back the tears—not exactly a good thing when driving through the thick traffic in New Zealand’s busiest city.

  As tempting as her offer was, I didn’t want to be a coward. I’d be seeing Jason again on Saturday. I needed to “woman-up” here.

  “That’s really thoughtful of you, Paige, but no. I’ll do it. It was just the initial shock, that’s all. I’ll be fine.”

  Truth be told, I wasn’t particularly fine. The moment I laid eyes on Jason, dressed in a pair of black pants and white shirt, looking every inch the high-end waiter we’d instructed him to be, my tummy tied in knots, and I had to resist the strong urge to run again.

  Paige took the lead with him, telling him what we needed him to do, giving me the chance to hide out, busying myself with the food prep. Which is what I did, spending the entirety of the job managing to avoid looking at him.

  I probably came across as some sort of weirdo, but I didn’t care. This was survival, people! Well, at least until I got used to having the spitting image of my former fiancé around.

  In the lobby afterwards, the executive assistant to the board, a nice woman in her twenties called Joanne, sang our praises. “That was delicious! Thank you so much. Judging by the fact all the food went, I think the silver foxes loved it, too.”

  Paige and I laughed. “The silver foxes?” Paige asked.

  It was true the board members had all been older men, so the name was fitting.

  “Yeah.” Joanne laughed. “They may not all be foxes, but they like it when I call them that.”

  “Well, we’re very pleased to hear they all liked the lunch. I hope you think of us next time you need a caterer.”

  “Oh, absolutely. In fact,” she pulled her phone out of her pocket and began to tap her screen, “can you do the twenty-fifth? The silver foxes are having a get together at the chairman’s place. We’d need a dinner for about thirty?”

  I beamed, shooting Paige a look. “That sounds great. I’ll book it into the calendar and be back in touch about the details.”

  “Fabulous, thanks.” Joanne’s heels clicked on the polished floor as she walked across the lobby.

  The elevator pinged, and Jason stepped out, holding a stack of trays. He smiled at Joanne and said something to her that made her laugh. As he walked over toward Paige and me, she turned and mouthed what appeared to be “so cute,” before she disappeared into the elevator.

  “Where do you want these, ladies?” Jason asked.

  Paige answered while I concentrated on studying the floor.

  Man, I needed to get over this! He wasn’t Dan. He was Jason Christie, medical student and now part-time waiter at Cozy Cottage Catering.

  “Bailey?” Paige said.

  I snapped my head up. “What?”

  “I was just saying Jason can put the trays in the trunk, once you’ve brought the car around.”

  “Oh, yes. Of course.” I chanced a look at Jason. He was watching me with a questioning look on his face.

  What must he think of me?

  “I’ll go get the car now.” I turned on my heel and pushed my way through the revolving doors out onto the street.

  Maybe the Universe was using Jason to test me, to make sure I’d moved on from Dan?

  I could conquer this, I knew I could.

  Chapter 15

  FRIDAY NIGHT SEEMED LIKE it took months to come around. I’d spent the week as I always did, working at the café. Only this week, Paige and I were riding high on our catering company success, our optimism filling the air.

  Finally, after Paige insisted for the third time she and Sophie had everything under control for the Cozy Cottage Jam, I collected my purse, ready to leave.

  “Have an amazing time,” Paige said, giving me a hug.

  “I wish it was me.” Sophie slouched against the wall.

  I couldn’t blame her for having a crush on Ryan. He was handsome and charming, the kind of guy a lot of women wanted to be with.

  But he was mine. Or, if he wasn’t yet, he would be very soon.

  “Oh, Soph. You’ll find your guy,” Paige said, rubbing her arm.

  “Yeah? When?”

  “All in good time,” Paige replied.

  Sophie let out a laugh. “You sound like my mother.”

  I laughed, too, shaking my head. “Soph’s right, you kinda do.”

  “Well, maybe I just have a feeling about these things? I did about Ryan and Bailey, you know.”

  Paige had always been a little quirky, believing in fate and the mystery of the world, the universe, and everything. She believed things happened for a reason—not a view I shared. What was the reason for Dan dying at the age of twenty-nine?

  “Maybe you do have a third eye, or whatever they call it, Paige. But right now, I’ve got to go get myself into a rather fabulous dress for my date.”

  I couldn’t stop a surge of excitement at the prospect. I’d had Nona’s dress cleaned, and it was good to go, hanging on the door of my closest, the necklace and shoes I’d chosen sitting beside it.

  “You’ll look beautiful. You always do,” Sophie said, although it didn’t sound much like a compliment.

  “Just be sure to have an amazing time,” Paige added.

  “Thanks, ladies. See you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll open up in the morning. You get here when you can.”

  I pulled the back door open and flashed them a grin. “Thanks.”

  At home, I showered and did my makeup, sweeping black liquid eyeliner over my eyelids in keeping with the ’fifties vibe of the dress. I applied my red lipstick and smacked my lips together, studying my reflection. I’d left my long hair loose, taming the curls into waves that framed my face. Nona had always said I looked like screen siren Sofia Loren in her heyday when I got myself dressed up. As I looked at my reflection, I thought she may have been onto something, although I knew I would pale in comparison against the real thing.

  I stepped into the dress and pulled it up. I’d loosely attached a piece of ribbon to the zipper so I could zip it up the whole way on my own, and it worked perfectly. I adjusted the dress, did the clasp on my necklace, and slipped my feet into a pair of patent leather black heels. I regarded myself in the mirror, swooshing the dress from side to side.

  I was a fairy princess on my way to the ball with my very own Prince Charming.

  As if on cue, the doorbell rang and those belly butterflies that always batted their wings when Ryan was around turned up. I collected my silver clutch from the bed and walked down the hall to the front door.

  I pulled the door open to see him standing there, dressed in a tux with a crisp white shirt, a grin spread across his handsome face. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him. If I was a princess tonight, he was most certainly my dashing prince. All we needed was a horse and carriage and perhaps a coachman or two and we’d be living our own personal fairytale.

  “Wow, Bailey, you look . . . so beautiful.”

  My body tingled as Ryan’s eyes swept over me. I beamed at him. “Thanks. You look amazing in your tux.”

  “Why, thank you.” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “Are you ready to go, Mademoiselle?”

  “I sure am.”

  “Well, then in that case, your chariot awaits.” He extended his arm and I took it.

  I let out a light laugh, lapping up the fairytale atmosphere. I closed and locked the door behind me and we walked down the path, arm in arm.

  I stopped in my tracks wh
en I saw the car parked on the side of the street. My eyes widened. “That’s the chariot? I assumed it’d be your SUV.” I took in the car in the early evening light. It was a fancy, old fashioned looking car, probably a Morgan or a Jag or something—I was no petrol head. Whatever it was, it was classy and oh-so romantic.

  “Nothing but the best for you tonight.”

  I looked up into Ryan’s eyes, the butterflies doing overtime. “It’s perfect, Ryan. Thank you.”

  The driver’s door opened and a man in a suit and driver’s cap stepped out onto the curb.

  “Will?” I blinked at him, barely believing my eyes.

  “You can call me Jeeves for the night, if you like,” he said with a little bow, flashing us his cheeky grin.

  I let out an excited laugh. “All right, Jeeves.”

  I looked back at Ryan. “You’re wonderful, you know that?”

  He smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “You’re worth it.”

  Be still my beating heart!

  Ryan was proving to be every inch the man of my dreams tonight. And the evening had only just begun.

  Will opened the car door for me and I thanked him and slipped inside, scooting across the seat for Ryan to sit next to me. The interior of the car was just as I’d imagined—tan leather, walnut trim, and old-fashioned window handles. Ryan took my hand in his, and Will drove us downtown to the five-star hotel where the ball was being held.

  A short journey later, we arrived at the front door of the hotel. Will “Jeeves” Jordan parked the car and walked around to open my door.

  “Thank you, Jeeves,” I said, smiling as I stepped out onto a red carpet leading up the steps into the hotel lobby.

  “Certainly, madam.”

  He was really getting into this whole chauffeur thing.

  Ryan offered me his arm once more, and we walked up the steps and into the hotel. I looked back at Will and waved. He winked at me then got into the car and slowly drove away.

  “How did you talk Will into doing that for us?”

 

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