Four Last First Dates

by Kate O'Keeffe

  And I knew it was true, with every part of me. I could still hold Daniel in my heart, and I knew nothing would ever change that. But Ryan was here, he loved me, and I could never imagine my life without him in it again.

  Epilogue

  “NOW THAT’S WHAT I call a public display of affection.” Paige giggled as she held her phone aloft for us all to see.

  “Are we still talking about this?” Marissa folded her arms across her chest. “Who knew an architect getting the girl would be newsworthy?”

  “It is because it’s so romantic,” Paige protested, her hand on her heart. “Bailey turning up to tell Ryan she loves him, and Ryan dropping everything to go to her? I could swoon. Seriously.”

  “And you’re just being weird because he’s your brother,” Cassie added.

  Marissa harrumphed. “I guess. But I am happy for you two. I just don’t need it thrown in my face again and again.”

  I squeezed Ryan’s hand, and we shared a secret look between ourselves. It had been two wonderful weeks and three incredible days since that day at the ground breaking, and I still had to pinch myself whenever I looked at him.

  Ryan Jones was mine, all mine.

  The story of how he had left the “ground breaking” for the new art museum to walk off with me—into an imaginary sunset, since it was only about one-thirty in the afternoon—had hit the local news two weeks ago. Although it was hardly headline stuff, I guess the local rag ran it because it was nice to have a feel-good story for once, a ray of light in a quagmire of terribleness.

  All of us—me, Marissa, Cassie, Paige, and our respective men, our respective Last First Dates—were at the Cozy Cottage Café. Well, the new part of the Cozy Cottage Café. You see, back when I had stood in the courtyard after Cassie and Will’s wedding, I’d had an idea. An idea that had me so excited I thought I would pop, the perfect solution for the café.

  Paige had squealed with delight when I’d shared it with her, even after I suggested we back away permanently from the catering business, leaving it up to the likes of Fake Jamie and his vengeful bent to dominate all he liked.

  My idea? Well, what was the thing most people thought of when they thought of the Cozy Cottage Café? That’s right; cake. From Cassie’s flourless raspberry chocolate cake to Paige’s carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, from Marissa’s orange and almond syrup cake to my Cassata alla Siciliana. We were all about cake.

  To distract myself from the emotional rollercoaster of my love life in the week following Cassie and Will’s wedding, I’d called Addison over in Orlando to discuss my idea. She’d leaped at it, telling me the place needed to be loved, needed to have life breathed back into it. When I told her my plans for the courtyard, I swear I could detect an emotional quaver in her voice.

  And so, Cozy Cottage High Tea was born. We specialize in cakes, with an assortment of sandwiches and pastries on the side, served with a choice of tea, coffee, or even a glass of bubbles.

  And who better to celebrate the opening of the new branch to the café than my best friends, the women who had supported one another through the pact to find our Last First Dates?

  And, even though we had all questioned it at some time or another, the pact had worked, for each and every one of us. Cassie had Will, recently returned from their honeymoon in Fiji, Paige had Josh, Marissa had Nash.

  And me? I may be biased, but I had the best one of them all.

  Ryan wrapped his arm around my shoulders and kissed the side of my head. “This is perfect.”

  I smiled up at him. “No, you’re perfect.”

  His low laugh reverberated through me. “Yeah, I think you’re right, but only because I’m with you.” His eyes teased, and my heart contracted.

  I let out a contented sigh as I looked around the courtyard with its glass roof, allowing the sun to stream in. We had large plants in the corners, a hedge running around the edges. Paige and I had bought some comfortable wicker tables and chairs. We’d had cushions made of the same material as our Cozy Cottage aprons; pink with white polka dots. So girly. We wanted our customers to feel comfortable as they indulged in their high teas with our wide selection of delicious cakes, courtesy of Nona’s recipes. Naturally.

  “Bailey, this looks so wonderful.” I turned to see Meredith standing in the archway, her face lit up as she smiled.

  Josh bounded across the floor to greet her with a kiss. “Hey, Mom. Glad you could make it.”

  “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” She patted his arm. “Now, Bailey, I’ve brought some friends with me. Do you have a table for six?”

  I let out a light laugh. “Of course, we do.”

  “Although you’ll need to book next time, Mom. Paige tells me this place is going to take off,” Josh added.

  “I’ll be back in just a moment,” Meredith said.

  I glanced up at Ryan, who smiled at me, his arm dropping to his side.

  “I’ll come with you, Meredith. I need to go to the kitchen, anyway.”

  We walked through the old florist shop, which we’d furnished with more tables and comfortable seating for our high tea customer, and out into the café.

  “Thank you so much for coming. And for . . . you know.”

  “You and that nice man, you mean? The one who looks like someone from the movies?”

  I nodded. “Thor.”

  “That’s the one.” She smiled at me. “Bailey, I said it before. You deserve to be happy. He seems like a good person.”

  I couldn’t help but smile back at her, the way I always did when I thought of Ryan. “He is. He’s the best.”

  “I’m glad. And I think Daniel would have loved what you’ve done with this place.”

  I nodded. “I think he would have, too.”

  Meredith gave my arm a pat before she slipped through the door to fetch her friends. I traipsed across the busy café and out into the kitchen where Sophie was putting the final touches to three cake stands, filled with all our favorite flavors in cupcake proportions.

  “They look amazing.”

  “Thanks. Are you ready for me to take them out?”

  I laughed. “I think they’ll riot if you don’t.”

  “Kayla’s just out back. She’ll bring the pots of tea.”

  Kayla had worked at the café a long time ago and had recently come back, seeking forgiveness. I remembered chatting with Paige one day when Kayla had had a fit over the gluten in our food. She’d got it into her head that the gluten could seep through her skin and give her celiac disease. I know, right?

  Anyway, it turned out she’d been under a lot of stress at the time with her mom getting cancer treatment and her flunking out of college. Lately, I’d become all about second chances, and Kayla re-joined our little Cozy Cottage Café family last week. Despite my nervousness, she’s been amazing ever since, and we’re glad to have her back.

  Although, I have to admit, I got her to help out with the gluten-free options on our menu a lot more than the other staff. Just in case.

  “What can I bring out?” Paige asked from the doorway.

  “Here.” Sophie handed her one of the cake stands.

  “Hey, Bailey. Hey, Paige,” Kayla chirped, her warm grin in place.

  “Great to see you, Kayla. I’ll help you with the tea,” I said.

  Sophie and Paige led the way with two of the cake stands as Kayla and I followed, balancing large pots of tea and elegant bone china cups and saucers on our trays.

  As Sophie placed the tiered cake stands on the tables, all my friends exclaimed how gorgeous they looked. Marissa said she felt like the Queen of England, and Cassie grinned, going straight for her perennial favorite, the flourless raspberry chocolate cake.

  Meredith and her friends arrived, and I seated them, handing them their high tea menus.

  On my way to the kitchen to fill their orders, Paige followed.

  “I bet Fake Jamie will be spitting tacks when he finds out what we’re doing. Though I doubt high tea is his thing. Not roc
k and roll enough for him, I bet.”

  “You know what? He can try to beat us all he likes. But you and me? We’re all about cake. Do you know what I say?” She shook her head. “Bring. It. On.” I grinned at Paige, and she returned it tenfold.

  Fake Jamie could do what he liked. I couldn’t have cared any less.

  Once back in the courtyard, I stood with Paige in the archway and looked around the room at the gorgeous décor, the room filled with people I knew and loved. Everyone was eating the cakes we’d made from my darling Nona’s recipes. All happy and chatting with one another, the atmosphere filled with talk and laughter.

  Ryan got up from one of the tables and walked over to me. He slipped his arm around my waist, and I smiled up at him.

  “You’ve done an amazing job. You should be so proud.”

  “I am.” I pushed myself up onto my tippy-toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  “What’s that for?”

  “For being my Last First Date.”

  He raised his eyebrows, his lips curving into a smile. “Is that so?”

  I nodded, never surer of anything in my life.

  “Well in that case, I guess you’re my Last First Date, too.”

  “You know you have great taste, right?”

  As he smiled back at me, our eyes locked. I knew I was home—with the man I loved, in the place I loved. I may still think of Dan, and I still remember him with love. But he was now in my past where he belonged. This. This was my present and my future.

  The Last First Date pact had worked for its last member, and I was the happiest café owner in the world.

  THE END

  Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you loved reading Bailey’s story as much as I did writing it. This is the fourth book in my Cozy Cottage Café series, and all the books can be read as standalones.

  You can purchase One Last First Date here

  You can purchase Two Last First Dates here

  And you can purchase Three Last First Dates here

  If you’ve enjoyed this book, please leave a review on Amazon and Goodreads. Reviews help other readers find books and they are the lifeblood of us authors! Thank you so much.

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  Read on for a sneak peek at my newest rom com, The Right Guy. It’s on preorder, releasing on March 4, and it’s only 99 cents right now! Here’s the blurb:

  She’s in hot pursuit of The One, he’s in hot pursuit of her. Can she see what’s been in front of her all this time?

  When city girl Taylor Jennings reluctantly visits a psychic one sunny San Francisco morning, she gets a whole lot more than she bargains for—like a prediction she will “lock eyes” with The One within the next two weeks. So, when she looks up into a pair of green eyes belonging to her best friend’s big brother, Taylor’s running scared. She can’t fall for ladies’ man, Jake, not if she wants to keep what she holds most dear.

  Jake Harrison is the successful head chef of the hottest new restaurant in San Francisco. He’s got everything he could want: a great job, good friends, and women falling over themselves to be with him. Problem is, he’s always had a “thing” for his kid sister’s best friend—ever since that one incredible kiss they shared as teenagers.

  When the two are thrown together on a joint bachelor-bachelorette weekend in Cabo San Lucas, Taylor goes in search of The One, and Jake tries his best to deny what he’s felt for Taylor for far too long.

  Sneak Peek at The Right Guy

  Have you ever noticed there are two types of people: normal, rational thinkers and people who will believe in practically anything? Well, I definitely fall into the rational thinkers’ camp. If you want me to believe something, you’ve got to prove it to me first.

  Leaps of faith are so not my thing.

  I knew someone who went to see a psychic who told her she would meet “the one” and get married within twelve months. Well, she did just that, marrying her Prince Charming with all the usual white wedding fanfare. I know what you’re thinking: so romantic.

  Wait, there’s more.

  What wasn’t so romantic was when her so-called prince got caught banging his assistant in the disabled bathroom at work after just three months of wedded bliss. I mean, you haven’t even unwrapped all your gifts by then, right?

  Now she’s bitter and alone. And do you think she makes huge, life-changing decisions based on predictions from psychics anymore? That would be a big fat no.

  True story.

  So, when I find myself standing outside a tent at Fisherman’s Wharf one gorgeous San Francisco Sunday morning, a sign declaring Kosmic Kandi, Psychic written in looping text above the entranceway, my eyes are already rolling before my best friend even opens her lip-glossed mouth.

  “Come on, girl. Give it a shot.” Ashley’s eyes sparkle as she places her hand on my arm. “It’s just for fun, even if you don’t believe any of it.”

  “Which I don’t.”

  “I know, Taylor. We all know.”

  “You first,” I counter.

  She shakes her head. “If I go first, you’ll find a way to get out of it.”

  She knows me too well. Dammit.

  I throw a critical eye over the tent. “Seriously, Ash, her name is Kosmic Kandi,” I point at the sign, hoping she will see some sense, “with Ks.”

  I didn’t take a pay cut to join my dream recruitment agency as an assistant consultant to go wasting my hard-earned cash on the likes of someone called Kosmic Kandi. And anyway, why did my best friend have to be a sucker for this sort of thing?

  I open my mouth to respond when a peal of laughter catches my attention. I glance over to see a young girl out with her mom. They’re laughing together, having fun. A pang of sorrow worms its way across my chest, the love between the two obvious to anyone who cares to look.

  I shift my weight, pressing my lips together. “Let’s just go get a burger, ’k? I’m starving.” I know how much Ash loves Joe’s Burger Joint. Sunday lunch at Joe’s is a long-standing tradition of ours. Now, she’s wrecking it all by marrying Tim.

  Ash pulls Kosmic Kandi’s heavy velvet curtain open a crack. “Taylor, just do it, will you?”

  I sigh. She’s not going to let up. “Okay. Then we go for burgers.”

  “Deal.” There’s a glint in her eye as she pulls the curtain open further. I pause to ask her what it’s about, but her glare tells me to keep moving.

  I clench my jaw as I unhook my camera from around my neck and hand it to Ash. She takes it and ushers me inside. The curtain falls back into place behind me with a swoosh. I blink, my eyes adjusting to the change in light. I fumble around, trying to work out how to find the badly named, alliterative psychic so I can get this over with and get on with my Sunday.

  “Welcome, please come in.” It’s a heavily-accented (probably fake) voice, located somewhere behind all this material.

  “Ah, sure.” I rummage around, trying to find an edge to the curtain. My fingers come across a long row of little beads, running along an edge. I tug on it, and the curtain opens. The space is instantly filled with a warm, orange glow.

  I take in the scene before me. Ornate tapestries adorn the tent’s walls, and an old-fashioned chandelier hangs from the ceiling. There’s a large opulent mirror resting on the ground and even a daybed on one side of the tent, covered in richly colored satin pillows.

  What does she need that for? A nap between readings? Binge watching Game of Thrones?

  I suppress a laugh. My eyes land on a woman—Kosmic Kandi, I’ve got to assume. She’s sitting calmly at a round table covered in red velvet, a crystal ball placed in the center. So far, so clichéd.

  She beckons toward a chair. “Please, have seat.”

  I take a few tentative steps closer and sit down, running my eyes over her. No turban, no big hoop earrings, no bangles jangling at her wrists. In fact, in her dark blouse and
graying hair, tied up in a soft bun, she looks like she could be friends with my mom.

  I rub the back of my neck. The happy family outside and now this woman? I could really do without thinking of my own “mother of the year” again today.

  “First, you pay. Eighty-five dollar.”

  “Eighty-five bucks?” I guffaw, my eyes wide.

  She nods. “Is on sign. Outside. No pay, no reading. Is worth it, you will see.”

  I’d been so busy trying to persuade Ashley not to make me do this, I guess I’d missed the money part.

  “Okaaay.” I shoot out of my chair, my mind set. “Thank you for your time, Ms. . . . Kandi.” Or should that be Ms. Kosmic? It isn’t clear.

  I turn to leave. Humoring my friend to alleviate her wedding stress is one thing but spending eighty-five dollars to do so? No thanks.

  “Your nana was very kind person. She loved you very much.”

  Even though I know it’s a safe bet to go for a grandmother, the mention of her name makes me pause, an unexpected stab of sadness digging in my side. “That’s . . . ah, great. Thanks.” I reach the first of the curtains.

  “She miss you very much. She want me to tell you she loves you and did not want to go when she did. But, she have to. It is the way. You know, she worries about you. She ask if you are happy with the way you live your life?”

  Am I happy with the way I live my life? A lump forms in my throat. Nana was one of my few constants, there for me when my mom was not. She was kind, loving, teaching me right from wrong. Losing her when I was only eleven to the cancer that had plagued her, that she’d fought so hard against, was the toughest thing I’d had to go through in my short life.

  My hand touches the velvet curtain. If it wasn’t for Ashley’s parents, inviting me into their home, their family, I’m not sure what would have become of me.

  “Your nana ask, does your mother brush Fluffy?”

  I whip my head around and look directly at her, my eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”