Starting with Fake Jamie slash Fabio slash Eddie Smith. Whatever his name was. Never in my life had I been victimized by someone the way he had victimized me. Sure, I’d had girls be mean to me at high school, a couple even moving my desk away from theirs or throwing all my school work in the trash. That was harsh at the time, but it was just fourteen-year-olds being catty and nasty.
This? This was a whole different league.
Out of sheer bitterness, Eddie had set out to ruin Cozy Cottage Catering. And he’d done a darn good job of it. All because I rejected him.
So much for “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” This man’s fury was off the freaking charts.
And then, of course, my mind kept bouncing back to Ryan. Turning up at The Royal Hotel when I’d asked him not to was one thing, but I knew there was something deeper that was bothering me, something I was finding hard to face.
When he’d said he loved me, with that look in his eye, it had catapulted me right back to when Dan was alive, right back to when he’d first uttered those three little words to me. To when I’d said them back to him. And I’d had unquestioning faith in that love, I thought it’d be forever. I thought our love could survive anything.
How wrong I had been.
No one had touched my heart the way Ryan had. No one other than Dan. How could I have such deep, strong feelings for Ryan when I’d already given my heart away to another?
It simply wasn’t mine to give anymore.
Although my head knew Dan was gone, my heart didn’t. And there was no room for anyone else while he was still there.
I wasn’t ready to say a final goodbye. Not now, not ever.
I let out a heavy sigh as I tied my Cozy Cottage apron around my waist, my heart settling at the bottom of my belly. I had a business to run, and despite the catering company looking like it was dead in the water, we had a wedding to prepare for Cassie and Will.
I breathed in the delicious scent as I pulled a freshly baked flourless chocolate and raspberry cake out of the oven. I glanced up as Paige came through the back door. Her features creased up in concern as her eyes landed on mine.
“Bailey, thank goodness. I’ve called and called.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I needed some time.”
I’d switched my phone off to avoid having to face Ryan—and everyone else. It had worked. Shame I couldn’t have switched my mind off, too.
She placed her purse on the kitchen counter. “I get it. He’s a creep, and what he did to you is horrible.”
I nodded, placing the cake on a wire rack on the counter. “I know.”
She walked around the edge of the counter until she was standing in front of me. “He’s a vindictive idiot, not worth your time.”
I nodded again. Yes, the way Eddie had targeted our business was beyond terrible, and he deserved to be punished in cruel and unusual ways.
But it wasn’t him who had me in knots.
“And Ryan and you? Is everything okay there? By the time I paid the check and stepped outside, you had already taken off.”
I looked down at the floor. “There is no Ryan and me. Not anymore.”
“There’s not?” Paige couldn’t keep the shock from her voice. “I thought you two were great. I thought he was your Last First Date.”
I shook my head, my chest aching, my eyelids hot.
“What happened?”
How could I explain that Ryan didn’t stand a chance, that he could never stand a chance?—not against Dan.
I had to admit it to myself. I was in love with a ghost.
“I don’t know. We weren’t right, I guess.” I lifted my head, plastering on a smile. “Hey, we’re presenting the final menu to Cassie and Will tonight, right? I’m excited about that.”
The look on her face told me she knew I was deliberately changing the subject. She was generous enough to let me have it. “I am, too. I think they’re going to love it. And it’s not far away now.”
“No, less than a month.”
She paused, running her fingers over the counter. “Hey, speaking of our catering business.”
I shook my head. “I’ve lost the heart for it.”
She nodded. “I thought as much. But I don’t think we should make any hasty decisions right now. Let’s just put it on ice, ’kay?”
“Okay.”
She stepped over to me and pulled me in for a hug. I gave her a quick squeeze and then moved away before the tears began to pool in my eyes. I could deal with the emotional soap opera my life had become, but not in the face of her kindness.
And I’d had more than enough of crying for today.
I concentrated on loosening the cake out of its tin. “Can you please get that carrot cake in the oven?” I nodded at the counter where I’d placed the batter in a cake tin. I was awake so early, I’d gotten to the café in the middle of the night and had set about baking.
I’d always loved to bake. It was kind of my therapy. When things went wrong, I would pull out one of Nona’s recipes and whip something up, the process of measuring and mixing, the satisfaction of baking something delicious, working to calm me.
This morning I’d baked a Cassata alla Siciliana, an orange and almond syrup cake, the chocolate and raspberry cake I’d just turned out, and had a carrot cake ready for me to ice later with cream cheese frosting.
Four cakes, but still I hadn’t been able to find any peace.
“I’ve started in on the wedding cake, by the way.”
“You have? I didn’t think we’d do anything until next week.”
“Oh, I had time this morning.” Like three hours. “I’ve worked out how much of each of the ingredients we’ll need, based on the size and design we’ve agreed on with them. Now all we have to do is bake it, ice it, decorate it, and voila.”
“Is that all?” Paige laughed.
We were using a fruit cake recipe Nona had used to make for my cousin’s wedding some years ago. She had baked it weeks before, storing it in an airtight container and “feeding” it every week to keep it moist. We had discussed doing the same, and with the wedding less than a month away now, we planned to begin baking this week.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s almost opening time. Is Sophie due in?”
“She sure is.”
“Would it be okay with you if I hung out in the back here and got on with baking the wedding cake?”
Sleep-deprivation and emotional turmoil weren’t a great combination when dealing with customers. Hiding away in the kitchen for the day seemed like a much better option for me.
“Honey, you’ve got to do what works for you. Soph and I will be just fine.”
There was a knock on the back door, and Paige wiped her hands as she walked over to answer it. “I bet that’s Josh delivering the coffee beans. He’s early today, though.”
She pulled the door open. “Oh.”
It wasn’t Josh.
“Hey, Ryan,” Paige said.
“Can I talk to Bailey, please, Paige?” His voice was quiet, controlled.
Paige held the door open and glanced over at me, her face once again creased up in concern. “Bailey?”
I swallowed, my eyes meeting Ryan’s, my chest tightening. I gave a brief nod. I had to end this properly.
I had to let him go.
I rinsed my hands and dried them off, giving myself a moment to steady my nerves. I’d been dodging his calls, I knew this time would come. And he deserved to hear from me, even if he wouldn’t want to hear what I had to say.
Out in the alley behind the café, I looked down at his feet, searching for the words.
“Bailey, what happened? I thought we were good.” His voice was full of hurt, full of unexpressed grief. It twisted my heart to know I was the cause, that I’d done this to him.
I looked up and into his sad hazel eyes, my breath catching in my throat as I took in the pain written plainly across his face. He looked achingly handsome in his open-neck powder blue shirt, his dirty
blonde hair messy.
“I’m sorry.” My hand on my chest, I tried to hold my pain in. My breath shortened. “I just can’t. Please understand. I thought I could, but I can’t.”
He placed a warm hand on my bare arm. I shivered at his touch, my heart heavy.
“Why? You’ve got to tell me why. Bailey, you owe me that much.”
Dan had been gone for three years on the twenty-sixth. By developing feelings for Ryan—serious “this could turn into love” types of feelings—meant Dan was really gone.
Not ever coming back.
How could I tell Ryan that?
He stepped closer to me and placed his other hand on my arm.
I could smell his cologne and felt my legs weaken.
“We can work this out. I love you, Bailey, and I think you love me, too.”
I swallowed, that knife turning inside. I looked up and steeled myself. “I . . . I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel the same.”
I held my breath as he studied my face, his brows knitted together.
“I don’t believe you.” His voice was harsh, cutting through me.
“It’s the truth. Now, I really have to get back inside. I’ll . . . um, I’ll see you ’round.”
He dropped his hands from my arms and I turned away from him. I took a tentative step toward the door, my vision blurred, my heart thudding against my ribs. I fumbled for the door knob, grasping onto it. As I pushed the door open and stumbled inside, I didn’t look back.
I couldn’t.
I didn’t want to see the pain on his face, knowing I’d caused it. It would be just too much to bear.
Chapter 21
IT WAS THE MORNING of Cassie and Will’s wedding, and Cassie and we three bridesmaids were getting ready in a suite at The Windsor Inn. It was a former stately home that had been made into a hotel and wedding venue, with its English country garden charm and beautiful setting. Their wedding was to be held outside on the rolling lawn in a perfectly romantic setting, followed by a reception in a large, elegantly decorated marquee.
Today, however, it wasn’t looking set to be quite so perfectly romantic.
It was raining. No, scratch that—it was pouring. Monsoon-like. And it didn’t show signs of stopping any time soon.
“Go away, rain!” Cassie stood in a fluffy white hotel robe, her arms crossed, glaring out the window at the dark rain clouds.
“I’m not sure that approach is going to work, Cassie,” Marissa said from her comfy chair by the coffee table, laden with tubes of makeup.
“Don’t worry. Rain is good luck on your wedding day, right, Bailey?” Paige sat in a dining chair, looking up at the ceiling as the makeup artist applied eyeliner to her lower lids.
I had no clue whether rain was good luck or bad luck or any type of luck on a wedding day, but Cassie didn’t need to hear that. “Totally good luck.”
“It’s meant to get worse before it gets better,” Justine, the makeup artist, announced. “I heard it on the radio on my way here. Rain, gale force winds, thunder and lightning. The works.”
She so wasn’t helping.
Cassie groaned. “Are you freaking kidding me?” She plunked herself down on the sofa, her bottom lip protruding. “This wedding is a disaster!”
“No, it’s not. I’m sure the hotel has back-up options for this sort of thing,” Paige said, her gaze still on the ceiling.
“Exactly,” I echoed. “This is Auckland. Four seasons in one day, right?”
Cassie shrugged, tugging at the soft waves the hairdresser had perfected only an hour before. “I guess.”
“We just have to wait and see what happens with the rain. The wedding’s not for another three hours, anyway,” Marissa said from her spot on the sofa. “If it’s got to be somewhere else, then it’s got to be somewhere else.”
Marissa was ever the pragmatist.
There was a loud rap on the door.
“I’ll get it.” I sprang up from my seat, padded across the plush-carpeted floor, and pulled the door open.
Tania, the wedding coordinator, in her sensible gray pantsuit and tight bun, bustled past me and into the suite, a worried look on her face. “Ladies. Things are not looking good out there.”
Cassie wrapped her arms around her body. “Tell me something we don’t know, Tania.”
“Well, the All Blacks team has just been announced for the summer tour.” Tania’s eyes darted around us all.
And . . . crickets.
Tania laughed. “You asked me to tell you something you didn’t know. Sorry, silly joke. Trying to lighten the mood. And I am a big rugby fan.”
“Good to know.” Marissa shot me a look.
Cassie simply blinked at her. I could only imagine what was running through her mind right about now.
“So. Here’s the deal. The hotel can rearrange the marquee to accommodate the wedding service. They just need to get the go-ahead from you and Will. I’ve just been to see the guys. Will was, ah, still getting dressed.” She grinned, blushing. “He was in his boxers, actually. Does he work out?”
My brows sprung up. First a joke about rugby and now she was lusting after the groom? Where did Cassie and Will find this wedding planner?
Cassie ignored the question. I mean, how would you respond to that, anyway? “What did Will want to do about the ceremony?”
As if by cosmic coincidence, Cassie’s phone on the coffee table began to ring. I picked it up and glanced at the screen. “It’s Will.”
She walked over to me, her brows knitted together as she regarded the phone. “I know it’s bad luck to see the groom on the day of your wedding, but is it bad luck to talk to him, too?”
“I don’t think that’s a thing.” Marissa shook her head.
“Definitely not a thing,” Tania confirmed—although I’m not sure anyone was listening to a word she had to say after her previous comments.
Paige and I both agreed, and the makeup artist shrugged, pleading ignorance of such things.
Wise move.
“I’m gonna answer it.” Cassie took the phone from me and swiped to answer. “Hey, honey.”
We all watched as she paced the room, listening to whatever it was her soon-to-be husband was saying. “Right . . . okay . . . I know, it sucks . . . damn rain . . . I love you, too.”
“Well?” I was as impatient as everyone else in the room to know what he’d said.
“He’s not thrilled about it, but having the ceremony in the marquee looks like it’s our only option.” She slumped down on the sofa next to me, staring into space. “It’s not going to be the way we envisioned it.”
“Oh, Cassie. It’ll still be wonderful.” I rubbed her arm.
“Totally. And the rain will only add to the drama.” Paige smiled at Cassie, her makeup complete.
“Wise choice,” Tania said. “I’ll go and get onto organizing it. You stay here, relaxed, getting ready. I’ll check back in later. I might drop by the guys once more. You know, to see if everything’s okay with them.”
She bustled out of the room and closed the door behind herself.
“Where did you find that one?” Marissa asked Cassie. “A Justin Bieber concert? She’s got to be about thirteen.”
“At least we know she’s a big rugby fan,” I added with a smile.
Cassie let out a sigh. “She’s Will’s distant cousin by marriage. Someone’s married to someone, and she’s their daughter. Something like that. It’s kinda complicated. She’s not done a wedding before, and we said we’d let her plan ours so she got some experience for her C.V.”
“She hasn’t done a wedding before? You don’t say.” Marissa’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“She’s been fine. I’ve really been doing most of the work. She’s kind of been tagging along for the ride, more than anything.”
“Well, as long as she doesn’t need to be back for study hall,” Marissa said with a laugh.
“Not helping.” Cassie glared at her.
“Right, you’re next
.” Justine pointed at Marissa. Paige stood up and Justine patted the empty seat.
She’d done my makeup straight after Cassie’s so I could be ready to greet our catering staff when they arrived. Jason—of the “I’m Dan’s doppelgänger” fame—was scheduled with a few of others, and Sophie had stepped up to help us out as well. Plus, we had hired some chefs to prepare the food we couldn’t do beforehand. It was more than a little challenging to be a supportive and present part of the bridal party and run the catering at the same time. But Paige and I adored Cassie and Will and wanted to do whatever we could to make their day as special as it could be.
Paige moved over to the window, and Marissa took her seat.
My phone beeped in my pocket. I pulled it out to see who it was. Ryan’s name flashed on the screen.
I’ll keep my distance today, you don’t have to worry.
My throat tightened. I hadn’t seen or heard from Ryan since that early morning in the alley outside the café. He’d respected my need for distance, and I was grateful to him.
But no matter how I’d tried, I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head—or my heart.
My guilt over Dan had reached Biblical proportions.
Ryan was one of the wedding guests, so even if I wanted to avoid him, that wasn’t going to happen today. I’d heard he and Will had become golfing buddies, and Cassie had known him for years.
I typed out a message, pausing before I hit send.
You don’t need to do that.
My thumb hovered over the “send” button. Instead of pressing it, I deleted the sentence and re-typed.
Thanks.
My phone made that whooshing sound as the text was sent. I held it against my tummy, surprised when it beeped once more. I turned the screen over to look at the message, half hoping it was Ryan, changing his mind, telling me he wasn’t going to keep his distance.
Telling me he knew we were meant to be together.
It wasn’t from Ryan. It was from Meredith.
Everything’s set. I’ll see you on Saturday. 11am.
Four Last First Dates Page 15