One Last First Date

by Kate O'Keeffe

  An hour and a half later, we drove through the suburban streets of the city of Napier, looking for the winery. Marissa looked out the window. “The sat nav is saying it’s two blocks away, but this looks too much like suburban paradise for there to be a winery here.”

  Sure enough, two blocks later the suburb came to an end and we were faced with a magnificent view. We looked up a hill to a large, white colonial building, nestled amongst established gardens, looking out over the valley stretching out to the bay below.

  “Wow, this place is amazing.” I drove up the long, tree-lined driveway. I took in row up row of vines, stretching as far as the eye could see across the flat and up over the rolling hills.

  Marissa read from her brochure. “It says here it was built by the Catholic Church in the eighteen hundreds for European monks to grow grapes to make wine.” She looked back up. “This place is magical.”

  The dappled sunlight danced on the windscreen as we wound our way up to the main building, bright in the famous Hawke’s Bay sun. I pulled the car into an angled parking spot and peeked out the window at the impressive colonial building before us. “I can’t believe we get to stay in this amazing house. It’s how old?”

  “Very. Like, older than your nana.” Marissa opened her door, climbed out of the car, and stretched. “That’s Will’s car. He must have beaten us here.”

  I closed the car door and put my sunglasses on top of my head. “Marissa, I think a team of elderly grandmothers on a Sunday drive would have beaten us, we took so long getting here.”

  She shrugged, playing with her newly acquired bead necklace slung around her neck. “Important things to do.”

  “Welcome, ladies.” Will, dressed in shorts and a polo shirt, walked out the entrance to the grand old building. Accompanying him was Sally Saunders, another member of our team, wearing a pretty sundress and floppy hat.

  “Hey, guys,” Marissa said. “Not a bad spot here.”

  “I know, right?” Sally replied. “You should go and have a look at the view from the restaurant through there. It’s incredible.”

  Will sidled up to me. “Glad to see you made it, Dunny. We were worried about you.”

  Sure you were. I shrugged. “We had things to do.”

  He peered in the window of the backseat of my car, taking in the shopping bags and discarded junk food wrappers. “I can see that. Where did you go?”

  “Places.” I deflected his line of questioning. “I can’t wait to see our rooms. This house is amazing.”

  “Actually, we’re staying in the old monks’ quarters out the back.” He nodded his head toward the hill behind us.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Monks’ quarters? Are you serious?”

  “Yup. It’s not bad. A bit like a boarding school, I guess, but nice enough.”

  “Shared bathrooms. You need to tell her that part, Will,” Stephanie added.

  “Oh.” My heart sank. I had been swept away by the romance of staying in the main house, imagining myself taking tea on the terrace, playing croquet on the lawn. Now I get a dormitory where monks, who weren’t exactly known for their lavish luxury, used to sleep.

  “Don’t worry, Dunny.” Will punched me playfully on the arm. “We each get our own room, it’s not like we’re bunking or anything. And our meeting room is in the main house. We’re having dinner there tomorrow night.”

  “What are we doing tonight?” Marissa asked.

  Will wrapped one arm around my shoulder and one around Marissa’s. “Tonight, my minions, we’re going bowling.”

  I grinned, pushing the image of us as little yellow people in dungarees from my mind. I gave Marissa a sideways smile. Bowling? Oh, yes.

  Bring. It. On.

  * * *

  “I need three people to volunteer for team captains,” Will said as we were seated on the coach, transporting “his minions”—don’t get me started—to the bowling alley.

  Marissa nudged me in the ribs. “Volunteer! You want to be the boss, right?”

  I needed no further encouragement. I shot my hand up.

  “Great, thanks, Sally and Raj. Anyone else?”

  I pushed my hand as high as I could. If I’d added, “ooh, ooh!” I could have been on a school bus on a trip to a museum. Yes, I had been a bit of a nerd in school.

  “No one?” Will asked.

  I shot darts at Marissa. “Is he seriously doing this?” I hissed at her.

  “Maybe you should stand up.”

  “I’m not that short! My hand does reach above the top of the seat, you know.” With a huff, I stood up, and said with a clear voice, “I’ll do it, Will.”

  “Great. Didn’t see you there. Thanks. So, we have our team leaders. Now, I’ll number you off from one to four.”

  I looked around at Sally and Raj, then back at Will. “Why four?”

  “You, Sally, Raj, and me.”

  Silly me.

  Will pointed at each of us, giving us our team number. He then proceeded to walk down the bus pointing at each and every person, giving them a number. When he was finished, he announced which number went with which leader. I hoped I had a good team but knew it wouldn’t be clear until we were off the bus.

  “Oh, Cassie. You’ve so got this,” Marissa said.

  Marissa was right. I had virtually grown up at the bowling alley. My dad used to take my big brother and me there every Thursday evening from when I could walk. It was my favorite time of the week: Dad Time. We’d eat junk food, laugh, and bowl. Dad was the king and taught us all he knew, which was a lot.

  I narrowed my eyes at Will as he took his seat at the front of the bus. Yeah, I’ve got this.

  My phone beeped. My heart gave a little squeeze when I saw it was a text from Parker.

  Missing you! xx

  I smiled. I texted back.

  Me too. Going bowling! xx

  A reply came within seconds.

  Lucky you.

  My smile broadened. I didn’t know Parker liked to bowl. This would be another thing we could share together.

  Once we all had our rented bowling shoes in hand, I sized my group up. I didn’t get Marissa, but that was okay since she had bowled precisely twice in her life and had taken the prize for Worst Player with her persistent gutter balls in our last match. She wasn’t what could be called “a natural.” I did get Big Jake, however, one of The Cavemen, as we referred to the gang of back-slapping, loud, trash-talking men from the sales team. And he was good. Really good. He and I had been on the same side a couple of years back when we beat Richard’s team in the final. It was an epic victory. Would history repeat itself tonight? I certainly hoped so.

  The bowling began. My team was good. We all either had strikes or spares nearly every bowl. I congratulated them all. We were on fire!

  I eyed the other teams’ scores. We were ahead of all but one of them: Will’s team. I ground my teeth. He was not going to beat me and my team.

  It was down to Big Jake’s last bowl. He’d managed so many strikes and spares, no one dared doubt his ability. And then he bowled his worst bowl of the night, hitting only the four middle pins, creating a huge gulf, right down the middle. Big Jake knitted his brows together. He was determined, he was focused, but we all knew that was one tricky bowl.

  “You can do this!” Prue shouted, followed by “Yeah!” and “Come on!” from the rest of our team.

  I watched as Big Jake’s shoulders tightened. He was feeling the pressure. He lifted his ball. He eyed his target, appeared to glance to the heavens—with the scores this close, we needed all the help we could get—looked back at the pins, and then bowled that ball.

  We all watched in agonizing silence as it scuttled down toward its target. It smashed through the pins, making that satisfying clank, only hitting the three pins on the left, missing the ones on the right entirely.

  Our team’s collective hearts sank.

  Big Jake slunk back to us and plunked his large frame down on his seat.

  “Don’t worry a
bout it,” Prue said kindly as she patted his back.

  “Yeah, man. It could have happened to any of us,” Tim reassured. “It’s up to you now, Cassie.”

  I took a deep breath. Will’s team had finished, posting a final score of 198. That meant I needed to get a strike to win. Nothing less would cut it.

  “Come on, Dunny. Let’s see what you’ve got,” Will goaded from across the tables.

  I glared at him. He had that self-satisfied smile on his Poldark face I so dearly wanted to wipe off. With a piece of sandpaper. Or a chainsaw.

  I raised my chin. It felt so important to win this, like my future depended on it. Win this and I would win the job. And then I could wipe that irritating grin off his face once and for all.

  I collected my ball from the rack, slotting my clammy fingers into the holes. I eyed my target. Ten pins, waiting for this ball to knock them over.

  “You’ve got this!”

  “Come on, Cassie!”

  I stepped up to the edge of the alley, eyeing my target. I could hear my dad’s voice in my head, telling me to stay calm, block out any distractions, and bowl like I meant it. I took a deep breath, swung the ball behind me, and bowled. It shot down the alley. I could barely look, my heartbeat loud in my ears. Within seconds, it hit the pins with a PAWOCK! sending them clanking in all directions. I held my breath as the last pin on the right wobbled precariously.

  Drop! Drop! Drop!

  It wobbled from side to side, as if on a string commandeered from above. Eventually, painstakingly, it fell to the floor.

  We had won.

  My teammates whooped, erupting from their seats and crowding around me, congratulating me and themselves on our epic win. Big Jake lifted me up onto his shoulder as though I were a bag of feathers. Despite potential vertigo—you don’t get the nickname “Big Jake” without being one large, tall guy—I beamed at my teammates below. I was on top of the world, not just Big Jake’s shoulder.

  “You were lucky, Dunny,” Will said, once I was back on terra firma.

  I squared my shoulders. “Luck had nothing to do with it, actually. It was skill, pure and simple.”

  He smiled. “Well, you’ve certainly got that.” He turned to the rest of my team. “All right, Team Dunny. Victory drinks are on me at the bar!”

  Everyone cheered and drifted over to the bowling alley bar to claim their prize.

  “Where did you learn to bowl like that?” Will asked as I sat, slipping my bowling shoes off.

  “I used to bowl as a kid.”

  “Me, too! My dad used to take us most weeks. My brothers and I got pretty competitive.”

  Knowing Will as I did, I commented, “I bet you did.” I stood up, bowling shoes in hand.

  He punched me playfully on the arm. “Well, it takes one to know one. You’re pretty good. Remind me to organize a different activity next team retreat.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “You think you’ve got this job in the bag, don’t you?”

  “Maybe. Why, have you applied?”

  I pursed my lips. “What’s it to you?”

  He shrugged. “Just asking, that’s all. It doesn’t make any difference to me.”

  My hackles rose. Was he really writing off my chances of getting the job? “Actually, Will. I did apply. And I think I have a pretty good chance of getting it.”

  He nodded, studying my face. “Game on?” He raised his eyebrows as he extended his hand.

  I crossed my arms, ignoring it. I nodded, my jaw set. “Game on.”

  Chapter 10

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, I woke to the birds chirping their cheery song outside my dormitory window. I stretched, reaching my arms above my head and pointing my toes under the covers. My mind skipped around, settling on Team Dunhill’s famous win at the bowling alley last night. We had celebrated, basking in our well-deserved glory, through drinks and dinner. Man, it had felt good—especially beating “Poop Boy”.

  And now I’d outed myself to him. He knew I was running against him for the Regional Sales Manager job. Good. It was better to have it out in the open. No need to pretend. We were clear adversaries, and we could treat one another as such.

  I threw the bed covers off, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and slipped them into my UGG boots to protect them from the ice-cold hardwood floorboards. I collected my towel and toilet bag and padded down the hall to the communal bathroom. With any luck, I would be the first up and could luxuriate in a long, hot shower.

  I put my hand on the bathroom doorknob and pushed the door open. I took a step into the room, stopped, and stood in shock, taking in the naked torso of a man with his back to me, wearing nothing but a towel tied around his waist. His head was down as water poured into the sink before him. I gripped the doorknob, rooted to the spot.

  How embarrassing!

  I needed to get out of here before he raised his head and saw me in the reflection. Without taking my eyes from his broad, toned back, I took a step back, just as his head rose.

  “Cassie?”

  Our eyes locked in the mirror.

  It was Will? I gave him a weak smile. “Ah . . . hi.”

  He turned to face me, a half smile on his face. “Good morning.”

  Don’t look at his chest! Don’t look at his chest! My eyes didn’t listen, skipping over his broad shoulders, his defined pecs, down to his taut belly.

  Oh, my.

  I bit my lip as my hand darted to my own chest in an attempt to still my heart. I forced myself to drag my eyes up to his face. Will’s half smile had turned into a full grin, his eyebrows raised in question. “Nice pj’s.”

  My eyes shot down to the teddy bears on my T-shirt. Self-consciously, I hugged my towel and toilet bag against my body. Like they were being dragged by some sort of magnetic force, my traitorous eyes returned to Will’s chest. “I’m . . . ah . . . sorry to disturb you,” I managed. I took a step back, let go of the doorknob, letting the door fly shut.

  I heard a chuckle. “No worries. I’ll be done in a minute,” came Will’s muffled reply from within.

  I stared at the door.

  Well, that was weird.

  I shook my head, breaking the spell. Clutching my towel and toilet bag to my chest, I hurried down the hall, back to the safety of my dormitory, closing the door firmly behind me.

  My eyes flicked to my phone. Parker. I’ll call Parker. I picked my phone up and pressed his number.

  “Good morning,” Parker’s voice answered after a few rings. “You’re up bright and early.”

  “Yes, I . . . I just wanted to say hello.”

  “Well, hello then. How was your night?”

  I thought of the fun we’d had winning the bowling and the subsequent celebrations. “It was really good, thanks.”

  “You managed to get through the bowling all right?”

  What does he mean, “get through the bowling”? “Yes. In fact”—I paused for dramatic effect—“my team won!”

  “That’s fantastic!”

  There was a knock on my door, causing me to levitate off the narrow bed by about two feet. My heart rate kicked up again.

  “It’s all yours,” Will called from outside in the hallway.

  “Err, thanks,” I replied, my hand over the mouthpiece. “Sorry, Parker.”

  “Who was that?” Parker asked.

  “Oh, just . . . Marissa, telling me the bathroom’s free.”

  Why did I just lie to him?

  “You have to share a bathroom? Well, that’s not ideal.”

  “I know, right?”

  A few moments later I had said goodbye to Parker and snuck down the hallway on light feet to the bathroom. Tentatively, I opened the bathroom door and peered around, eternally grateful there was no sign of anyone—let alone a scantily clad Will Jordan.

  Another encounter like that I could do without.

  * * *

  Later that morning, I walked into the conference room. Its walls were wood-paneled, with large dormer windows, and there w
as a large oak table in the middle of the room, surrounded by about twenty chairs.

  I had gone to the bathroom after breakfast to freshen up and was one of the last to arrive in the grand, old room.

  “Over here, Cassie!” Marissa called. “I’ve got you a seat.”

  Will was standing at the front of the room, checking his presentation. I had two options to get to Marissa: either walk right past him or go the long way around and avoid him completely. I took the second option.

  As I plunked my laptop down on the table next to Marissa, Will called out, “Hi, Dunny. Are you all better now?” He had an amused look on his face.

  I jutted my chin out and turned to face him as my cheeks burned with embarrassment. Will Jordan was not going to get the better of me. “Yes, thank you, ‘Poop Boy’. I’m doing great.”

  Damn him! He probably now thought I was one of those women at AGD who was half in love with him. Like Paige.

  I sat down, heavily.

  Marissa narrowed her gaze at me. “What’s up with you and Will?”

  “Nothing. What?” I snapped. My palms began to sweat.

  She studied me for a moment. “You’re a bit . . . uptight.”

  I shrugged, trying to appear unfazed, despite the growing holes her eyes bored into my face. There was no way I was going to make mention of any half-naked men in bathrooms. “I told Will I’m in the running for the Regional Sales Manager’s job last night,” I said quietly in her ear.

  Why am I lying to one of my best friends?

  Marissa’s eyes got big. “You did? Why?”

  I glanced over at Will. He had his back to me. It was so much easier when he had his shirt on. “Because then it’s out in the open. I don’t have to pretend. He knows who he’s up against”

  “I guess,” she replied, sounding as sure as a lemming being led to the cliff’s edge.

  “Right, everyone. Let’s get down to it. We’ve got a lot to cover today,” Will began, smiling at us all from the front of the room.

  I rolled my eyes. Having to listen to Will talk all morning was hardly my idea of a fun way to spend my time. “Here goes nothing,” I said to Marissa.