Four Last First Dates

by Kate O'Keeffe

  “I bumped into him at the suit hire place. He was getting his tux for his wedding, and he asked me what I needed one for. When I told him, he offered to help out. Apparently, Paige and Cassie had been talking about us.”

  “Hmm, I bet. I never had Will Jordan pegged as a romantic, though.” I shook my head. Cassie was a lucky girl.

  I glanced at Ryan. Not as lucky as me, though. “And the car?”

  “That belongs to my parents’ wealthy neighbor. I have to get it back to him tomorrow in one piece on pain of death.”

  “Let’s hope Will doesn’t do anything silly, then.”

  We walked down a wide corridor to double wooden doors, the words “Renoir Suite” above the entrance in gold lettering. Music was floating out, and I could hear the muffled sounds of chatter and laughter from behind the doors.

  “We’re here.” Ryan pulled one of the doors open for me and I stepped inside.

  It was a large room, with a band playing ’forties swing music on a stage at the far end, massive crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. There was a dance floor, empty right now, and people were dressed in ball gowns and tuxes, chatting and laughing together.

  “This is . . . perfect,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

  Ryan slid his arm around my waist and leant in toward me. “You’re perfect.”

  I looked up at him and blushed. “No, not at all. But this?” I gazed around the room.

  “It’s going to be a fun night. Come on, let’s get a drink. Champagne?”

  I nodded. “Oh, yes.”

  What other drink could we possibly have on a night like this?

  We got our drinks and Ryan spotted some people he knew over by one of the tables. He introduced me, and I ended up chatting to one of the women about Italian food and how important it was to use fresh tomatoes in sauces, not canned. Something Nona taught me, naturally.

  After a while, dinner was announced, and we found our table, sitting with some of Ryan’s colleagues. I didn’t know anyone, but people were friendly. I watched Ryan, relaxed and easy-going, chatting and laughing with everyone.

  Dinner was a delicious hot smoked salmon salad followed by tuna steaks, and then an emcee announced the awards portion of the evening.

  “Are you nominated for anything?” I asked Ryan.

  “Not this year, although my firm won ‘Best New Design’ last year for a project I co-led.”

  “That’s amazing. Maybe next year, huh?”

  He squeezed my hand under the table. “Maybe next year. Actually, we found out today we’ve just won some business. I’m going to be part of a team designing a new building for national art treasures.”

  “That’s wonderful!”

  “We’re breaking ground in about a month, on the twenty-sixth, actually. It’s a bit of thing, you know? The owners, the media. I might even be in the news.”

  “Really?” I tapped my foot against my chair leg.

  “If you’d like to come, we could go for a late lunch afterwards?”

  “Sounds great.” I feigned a smile.

  The twenty-sixth of next month had particular meaning for me, too. It was the anniversary of Dan’s death. Three years. I swallowed, trying to concentrate on the speeches. I couldn’t think about that now, not on such an enchanted evening as this.

  The awards ceremony went on for quite some time, and I swear my hands grew numb through clapping. The final award had been announced, and the band started up once more, people pouring onto the dancefloor.

  “Are you going to ask me to dance?” I said to Ryan.

  “Are you going to say yes if I do?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, yes. Bailey, will you dance with me?” He stood up and offered his hand.

  I took it with a smile, and we walked to the dancefloor where Ryan held me in his arms. It felt nice. More than nice. He twirled and dipped me, making my head spin—although that could have been from the champagne, too. I was definitely a cheap drunk, the two glasses I’d had over dinner more than enough to make me a little tipsy.

  The music changed to a slower song, and Ryan pulled me in closer, his big hands pressed into the small of my back. I breathed in his delicious Ryan scent, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “Are you having fun?”

  “I’m having the best time.” I looked up into his eyes.

  “Good.” He bent his head down and kissed me lightly on the lips. “Me too,” he murmured in my ear, his breath warm on my neck.

  I let out a sigh. I wanted this, I needed this.

  We swayed to the music, our bodies as one. I couldn’t imagine the night being any more perfect than it was.

  The tempo of the next song changed back again, and I suggested we sit this one out. My shoes may be gorgeous, but they were killing my toes.

  We sat down at our table, all the chairs around us empty but for a couple all cozied up on the other side. Ryan raised his chin at them in greeting and we took our seats.

  He leaned in to me, his elbows on his knees. “Bailey, I need to tell you something.”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “You know that thing I said about wanting to kiss you for so long and not doing anything about it?”

  A smile curved my lips. “Oh, that.”

  “I thought I should tell you why.”

  I sat up in my seat. “Okay.”

  “I guess it was because . . . well, I was still working through some stuff, you know, after my break-up.”

  I nodded, recalling the shell of a man he was when I’d first met him.

  “I know this is going to feel a bit sappy, but I guess I didn’t want you to be a rebound girl.”

  My heart rate kicked up. “You didn’t?”

  He shook his head. “No.” He placed his fingers under my chin and leaned in and kissed me once more. It was soft and sweet, full of the promise of what could be between us.

  We leant our foreheads against one another.

  “I want you to be more than just that.”

  I pulled away to look him in the eyes. “Because this feels big.”

  He nodded, pressing his lips together. “It does to me.”

  I put my hands on his chest and looked into his eyes. “You know what? You’re worth waiting for, Ryan Jones.”

  And I knew he was.

  Chapter 16

  IT WAS OFFICIAL: I was on Cloud Nine. And oh, my, did I like being there. I floated from home to work, to seeing Ryan, and back again. And it kept on getting better and better. We’d been out to dinner, played some more tennis (I won this time, but I’m certain he let me), and just simply been hanging out, enjoying one another’s company. He was sweet and thoughtful, and I found myself wanting to spend all my free time with him—which wasn’t a lot of time when you ran a busy city café and catering company.

  Not that the catering business had quite taken off as much as Paige and I would have liked. Although we’d been contacted on our website about many jobs since our first one for Joanne’s “silver foxes,” we were finding that we weren’t winning new business very often.

  I sat in the café kitchen at my laptop and checked our emails. My face dropped when I saw a message from Joanne. “Oh, no.”

  Paige looked up at me from the carrot cake she was icing with cream cheese frosting. “What is it?”

  “Joanne no longer wants us to cater her ‘silver foxes’ party this weekend.”

  “What? Why?”

  I scanned the rest of the email. “She said they had another catering firm approach them and decided to give them the party. She didn’t say why, exactly. She was very nice about it, but still.”

  “Well, that’s annoying. But you know what? It’s just a matter of time, Bailey. Word’s going to get out how good we are, how great our food is. Have faith, okay?”

  I smiled at her, wishing I had her optimism. Of the fourteen requests for quotes that had come in over the past few weeks, we’d only won two of them, and now we’d lost Joanne’s p
arty. Those were not good odds in anyone’s books.

  “Do you think it’s something to do with our marketing?”

  “No, the marketing’s great. And we know they love our food. Just be patient, okay?” Paige picked a knife up and began to slice the cake.

  “I guess.” I collected the keys to the front door and wandered out into the café, flicking the lights on. There were already a couple of people waiting outside, and as I unlocked and opened the door, I greeted them with a “good morning” and set about serving them at the counter. At this time of day, the most anyone wanted was a takeout cup of coffee and maybe a breakfast muffin, so they were on their way before too long, happily caffeinated.

  “Could you open the cabinet, please?” Paige was holding a freshly iced flourless chocolate and raspberry drizzle cake in her hands.

  “Sure.” I pulled the door open and rearranged the cakes already inside so she could fit the new addition.

  She slid it inside before I closed up again.

  “I’ve been thinking. How about I call some of the jobs we didn’t get and ask them why they chose someone else?”

  Paige nodded. “That’s good market research. Make sure you mention that when you call them, otherwise they might think you’re just being nosey. Want to do it now?”

  “Sure thing. Call out if you need me. Sophie should be here any minute.”

  I sat at the kitchen counter and opened my laptop, finding the list of email enquiries we’d received on the website. I clicked on the contact details for someone at Nettco Electricity, a woman by the name of Beth Matson. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. She answered almost immediately.

  “Jennifer Carlisle’s office, Beth speaking.”

  “Hi, Beth. This is Bailey De Luca from Cozy Cottage Catering. You enquired about us catering a function?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” she replied brightly. “But I’m sorry, we gave the business to another caterer.”

  “That’s why I’m calling. You see we’re doing some market research,” I thought Paige would be proud, “and it would be really helpful if you could tell us why you chose not to use us.”

  “Why?” Her tone changed. Gone was the bright and friendly voice from seconds earlier.

  I had to do some quick thinking. Working in the hospitality industry had taught me a thing or two about customer service. “So we can make sure we get it right the next time.” I held my breath, waiting for her to respond, half expecting her to hang up on me. I don’t know why I thought that, exactly—people can be irrational, can’t they? “We’d really appreciate your help,” I added as a last-ditch attempt.

  “Oh, all right, but only because us girls need to stick together.”

  I sat and listened to Beth as she told me all about how her boyfriend had done the dirty on her and how all men were idiots, particularly her ex. Eventually, after lots of “I hear you” and “that’s terrible” from me, she got to the crux of the conversation.

  “We gave it to another place called Devour Catering. They said they could do the same type of menu as you, discounted by twenty percent. I remember he called it his ‘Cozy Mansion’ offer. A weak play on words if you ask me, but we couldn’t pass up that twenty percent discount.”

  Cozy Mansion? I tapped my foot against the chair leg.

  “Did you share our menu with them?” I tried not to sound as aghast as I felt.

  “Heck, no! As I said, we girls have to stick together.”

  I had stopped myself from pointing out that Beth hadn’t exactly stuck with us.

  “He was pretty smooth, too. Good looking in a kinda sleazy way, if that makes sense?”

  “Do you remember his name?”

  “Hold on, I’ll get his card.”

  As Beth rustled through papers, I tapped my chin. Calling their offer the “Cozy Mansion,” discounting our prices by twenty percent? I may have been jumping to conclusions, but it felt like we were being targeted. Only, I had no clue how.

  “Here it is. Eddie Smith.”

  I’d never heard of Eddie Smith.

  “Thank you so much, Beth. You’ve been really helpful.”

  I hung up and immediately called one of the other contact numbers. Six phone calls later, and I started to get a picture of what was going on. And I wasn’t happy about it.

  I snapped the laptop shut and walked out into the café. Sophie was working the coffee machine and Paige was serving a line of customers. I dove in to help, shelving my conspiracy theory for later when I could speak with Paige alone.

  That time came later in the day, once the lunch rush was over and the café had begun to wind down for the day.

  “And was it the same catering company every time?” Paige had an incredulous look on her face.

  “It sure was. It’s called Devour.”

  “Oh, my gosh, I’ve heard of them!”

  “It’s run by a guy called Eddie Smith.”

  “Eddie Smith?” Paige shook her head. “Not a name I know.”

  “Me neither. It’s not surprising though, is it? We’ve only been caterers for the last few weeks.”

  “But why would he target us with this ‘Cozy Mansion’ thing? I don’t get it. It’s not like we’re the big fish here. We’re a new start-up business, with hardly any experience.”

  “Exactly. How could he know who has contacted us for quotes?”

  “Hold on a second.” Paige walked over to the counter and opened my laptop. She tapped on the keyboard, her brows knitted together in concentration. After ten seconds focusing at the screen, she leaned back on her heels and looked at me, her face aghast. “Oh, no.”

  “What is it?” I peered over her shoulder at the screen. It was the catering contact page on our website Paige had shown me when she set it up. My eyes trailed down the screen. I let out a gasp. “Oh, no,” I echoed.

  Every one of the people who had contacted us for catering quotes were listed on the page, with their requests, email addresses, and requirements. We’d inadvertently advertised all our potential clients to the world on one page!

  Paige’s eyes bulged, worry written across her face. “Bailey, I’m so, so sorry. This part is meant to be private. I must have messed it up somehow.” She clicked onto another screen and started tapping away on the keyboard once more.

  “How did it happen?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll fix it . . . somehow.”

  I let out a heavy sigh. “Well, at least we know how this Eddie Smith guy got the information. I guess that’s something, at least.”

  Paige stopped tapping and turned to me, her eyes wide. “That’s true, but what we don’t know is why.”

  She had a point, and I was determined to find the answer.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, I sat in front of my laptop researching Devour Catering and Eddie Smith. Although I found Devour’s site, with all its slick presentation and elegant photography, I couldn’t find a single piece of information on Eddie Smith.

  He was an enigma, that was for sure. An enigma who had targeted our new business for no apparent reason.

  I looked up from my screen to see Paige coming into the kitchen, followed by Marissa.

  “Hi, Marissa.” I wondered what she was doing here at this time of day—and why she was in the kitchen. Usually she and Cassie came in for coffee and cake mid-morning, sitting at their favorite table by the window.

  “Hey.” Her smile seemed forced, unnatural.

  “I’ll leave you two to it. I’ve got customers to serve.” Paige threw me a look before she left the room.

  I knitted my brows together. “What’s up?” There was no point in any preamble.

  “Look, there’s no easy way to put this so I’ll just come out and say it.”

  I closed my laptop. “Okay.”

  “I’m not sure you should date Ryan.”

  I bit my lip. I should have seen this coming. Marissa had warned me off Ryan when I first met him and again not that long ago. She’d told me he wa
s a broken man, totally messed up about women—all thanks to his ex. To be frank, I was kind of surprised she hadn’t mentioned him to me again in the weeks we’d been dating.

  The problem was, I was beginning to develop feelings for him, feelings I hadn’t had for anyone in a very long time.

  “Look, Marissa, I know what you’re going to say. You think he’s all messed up over his ex. We’ve talked about it, and I really think he’s moved on. He’s good. We’re good.” I smiled at the thought of Ryan—and the way he made me feel.

  She drew her lips into a thin line, studying me. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “I know he’s your brother and you want to look out for him. I totally get that. But so far it’s all been great.”

  Marissa opened her mouth to respond when there was a loud rap on the back door.

  I put my finger in the air. “Hold that thought, okay?”

  She nodded, and I walked over to the door and opened it.

  “Hello, Bailey,” said an elegant older woman in a pants suit and string of pearls.

  My eyes widened, my heart thudding.

  It was Meredith Bentley.

  Dan’s mother.

  Chapter 17

  “MEREDITH. IT’S SO NICE to see you.” I gave her a brief hug. It was forced and unnatural, her body rigid.

  A smile formed on her face. “Bailey. You look wonderful.”

  “Thanks. You do, too.”

  On the outside, I was smiling and composed.

  Inside was a completely different story.

  “Do you have a moment?” Meredith asked.

  “Sure do.” I turned back to Marissa. “Can we . . . pick this up later?”

  Whatever “this” was.

  “Of course.” Marissa nodded. “I’ll call you later.”

  I couldn’t think about Marissa’s warning not to date her brother right now. Seeing Meredith was like a foghorn going off in my brain, reminding me of my past—reminding me of Dan.

  I shot Marissa a quick smile as she left the kitchen for the café. I returned my attention to Meredith, still standing at the door. She was never a large woman, keeping herself very “trim” as my mom would say. She was always nicely turned out, wearing beautifully tailored jackets, a string of Mikimoto pearls always around her neck.