One Last First Date

by Kate O'Keeffe

  And it dragged. Oh, how it dragged. We talked about our goals for the year, our strategies and tactics, and new products in the pipeline. I watched with a bad taste in my mouth as half the women in the room flirted their faces off with him and the men joked around with him, enjoying their caveman camaraderie. It was enough to make me vomit.

  We finally broke for lunch. We sat down at a long table outside on a brick patio. It was one of those cool, crisp, sunny winter days. The view of the city below and on over the sparkling blue of the bay from our elevated position was breathtaking. We were all bundled up in our warm coats—well, the women anyway, the men were, as ever, seemingly impervious to the cold— with heat lamps dotted around us.

  Our first course delivered, Marissa leaned in, and whispered, “Why is there an empty seat next to Will?”

  “Perhaps no one wanted to sit next to him?” I smiled at the thought.

  “Oh, I get it.” Marissa nodded at Will. Laura had arrived. Will leaped up from his seat to shake her hand, welcoming her.

  She addressed us all. “Hello, everyone. It looks like you’ve got a pretty spectacular spot here.”

  Will—suck-up that he was—pulled the chair next to him out for her to sit down. Everyone settled into conversation as we ate.

  After dessert of a delicious lemon and raspberry cheesecake that could almost meet the Cozy Cottage Café’s high standards, Laura stood up from her seat and clinked her glass. “May I have your attention, please? Thank you, thank you. Well, it’s been quite a year for you all. I wanted to come here personally today to share with you the excellent news. Your team as a whole has achieved target!”

  We all applauded. Big Jake and some of the other guys whooped and cheered.

  “We have a few outstanding performers I would like to take the opportunity to acknowledge. First of all, Will. Not only have you stepped up to the plate as Regional Sales Manager—and done an amazing job, I might add—”

  I clenched my jaw.

  “—but you are also our top salesperson of the year! Well done, Will.”

  The team applauded again, and a grinning Will bowed his head, lapping the attention up.

  “But that’s not all. Cassie Dunhill was a close second with her wonderful Nettco Electricity deal. Well done to you, Cassie.”

  Marissa squeezed my hand. “Awesome!”

  I grinned at her through clenched teeth. Coming second to Will Jordan grated.

  “Other stellar performances this year have come from Tamati Southie, Marissa Jones, and Sally Saunders. Well done!”

  It was my turn to squeeze my friend’s hand in congratulations. “You’re a total star.”

  After the applause had calmed down, Laura raised her glass. “To a wonderful year. Well done, all of you.”

  After lunch, Laura called me over to where Will and she were standing at the end of the lawn, overlooking the rows of vines below.

  “Cassie. Thanks for joining us. I have a task for you both.”

  I looked at Will. He looked back at me and shrugged nonchalantly. Does anything rattle this guy?

  I took the lead. “Of course. What can I help you with, Laura?”

  “I need two strong leaders to work with Marketing on delivering a new solution they’ve been working on for some time now. We need input from a sales perspective, and to be honest, they need some direction. It will need to be in addition to your day jobs, of course. Are you up for the challenge?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but suck-up Will got in there first. “Of course, Laura. I’m always ready for a fresh challenge.”

  “Great. I knew you would. Cassie?”

  My muscles tightened. “Absolutely. I’m there for you one hundred percent.”

  “Thank you. It will be for a good couple of months, starting the moment you’re back in the city. I’ll have Brian email you both the relevant background information today and schedule a meeting with Dwight Barlow. We need to get this solution packaged up and ready to hit the market yesterday, so time is of the essence.”

  This time I got in first. “I won’t let you down, Laura.”

  “No, we won’t,” Will added with that smarmy half smile of his, raising his eyebrows at me.

  My smile was pinched. Working with Will Jordan? I knew I was going to need all the tolerance I could muster—and leave him for dead.

  Chapter 11

  THE MOOD WAS UPBEAT at our usual table at the Cozy Cottage Café on Friday morning.

  “Here you go, ladies.” Bailey placed our sweet treats on the table in front of us. “I see you’ve broken with tradition today, Cassie.”

  I smiled up at her from my seat. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good sugar cookie. And yours are the best.”

  She beamed. “Thank you. It was my mother’s recipe.” A shadow passed over her face momentarily before she broadened her smile once more. “I’ve got a moment. What’s the latest?” She pulled a spare seat out from the table and sat down, looking at me expectantly.

  “Well,” I began, enjoying the chance to talk about recent events once more, “my boss’s boss has asked me to work on a special project. She said she needs good leadership. I met with the Marketing Manager today, and I’ve got a lot of work to do. Although, I have to work with a guy I don’t like.” I glanced at Paige. “Sorry, but I don’t.”

  She shrugged. “No worries. Hey, do you think this is Laura checking you both out to see who would be best for the Regional Sales Manager job?”

  “Of course it is.” Marissa nodded. “This way she gets to directly compare Will with Cassie.”

  I gave a severe nod. “So, I have to totally kill this.”

  Paige and Marissa both nodded along with me. We all looked grim, contemplating my task.

  Bailey furrowed her brow. “I meant with your boyfriend. The one you’re going to marry?”

  “Oh. Right. Well, we’re on date twelve tonight.”

  Paige and Marissa’s faces both lit up. “It’s a big one,” Marissa said.

  “It is?” Bailey asked.

  “Oh, yes. This is the one where they profess their love for one another,” Paige confirmed.

  “Really?” Bailey raised her eyebrows. “That is a big one. But . . . how do you know that’s what’s going to happen? Are you planning on saying it first?”

  “God, no!” I guffawed.

  “He will.” Paige’s confidence matched mine.

  Bailey’s eyes darted between the three of us. “I don’t get it. How do you know?”

  “Because Cassie has it all mapped out,” Marissa explained.

  Bailey’s face was still a study in confusion. “If you say so.” She looked up as the bell above the door chimed. “Customers. Gotta go.” She stood up and pushed her chair under the table. “You have to tell me everything on Monday. Promise, Cassie?”

  “I promise.”

  With Bailey gone, Marissa, Paige, and I drank our coffee and ate our treats, talking about my new project and Parker.

  “How about you, Marissa? Anyone you’ve got your eye on for your One Last First Date?” I asked between mouthfuls.

  She let out a sigh. “No. I mean, I meet these guys and they seem really nice, then I find out something terrible about them. It’s in the too hard basket for me.”

  “The right guy will come along when you least expect it,” Paige commented with a smile. “You’ll see.”

  Marissa harrumphed, clearly not convinced by Paige’s optimism. “I’m not even sure I’m buying into this whole One Last First Date thing, anyway.”

  “Well, you should,” Paige replied. Marissa rolled her cynical eyes and Paige changed the subject back to me. “Where are you going for the big twelfth date tonight?”

  “Nowhere. He’s coming over to my place, and I’m cooking him dinner.”

  Paige’s eyes got huge. “Is that a good idea? I mean, I love your cooking, of course. Yum yum.” She rubbed her tummy. “But maybe Parker . . . won’t?” She looked to Marissa for support.

  �
�I’ve already told her,” Marissa said, shaking her head. “She won’t listen.”

  I laid my hands flat on the table. “Look, I know I’m not the best cook in the world. But Parker is a traditional kind of guy. I want him to see I can cook.”

  “Can you? Cook, I mean?” Marissa asked, looking innocent, like it was a genuine question, which it most certainly was not.

  “I can,” I replied firmly. My mind darted to the last time I cooked for Paige and Marissa. I had been very ambitious and invited a number of people over for a dinner party to celebrate my birthday. Cutting a long story, a bout of salmonella, and minor weight loss short, we ended up ordering pizza. It was very good. “It will be just for him and me. No grand plans. Just a simple dinner for two.”

  “That sounds lovely.” Paige smiled at me, that dreamy look in her eyes once more.

  “Well, it sounds to me you’re making yourself into some sort of Stepford Wife for him,” Marissa added.

  “It’s just one dinner! If I turn up at work on Monday as a blonde wearing a fifties frock with a vacant look in my eyes, then feel free to start worrying.”

  Jeez. I could always count on Marissa to tell me like it was. Well, the way Marissa saw it, I should say.

  Paige usually had more tact. “I think it’ll go really well. And Parker will confess his love for you and you will for him and it’ll be so romantic and wonderful.” She let out a sigh.

  “Thank you, Paige.” I looked pointedly at Marissa.

  “I hope it does, too,” she conceded. “Only, please don’t give him food poisoning. My clothes are still a little loose on me, thanks to your non-Stepford Wife culinary skills.”

  I put my hand against my heart. “I won’t. It’s going to be . . . perfect.”

  * * *

  Still on my sugar and Parker-was-about-to-say-he-loved-me high, I arrived back to a meeting with Will and the project team over in the Marketing Department. Everyone was already sitting around the large wooden table when I walked through the door.

  Will looked up at me, one of those smarmy grins plastered on his face. “Afternoon, Dunny!”

  It was eleven o’clock in the morning.

  I resisted the urge to call him “Poop Boy” in front of an audience. Some of us have a sense of decorum. Instead, I ignored him. “Good morning, everyone. Although some of the less mature members of this team prefer nicknames, I would like it if you could all stick with ‘Cassie.’”

  There were murmured greetings from the others in the room. I sat in one of the empty seats next to Melanie, a member of the Marketing Department I knew, ensuring I was as far away from Will as I could be without leaving the room.

  “We’ve been brought up-to-date this morning on the progress of the project by Dwight, but we’d like to get a feel for how things are sitting with you all. Wouldn’t we, Cassie?” Will looked at me pointedly.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Yes, we would, William.”

  “I’ve put together a project spreadsheet with milestones and progress to date, if we’d like to start there?” Melanie offered.

  I knew I’d sat next to the right person in the room. “That sounds great, thanks, Melanie,” I replied, taking the sheet from her.

  “Before we do that, how about we get to know each other a little?” Will said. “I mean, I see all of you around the office, but I wouldn’t say I knew you very well. How about a little ice breaker?”

  Everyone agreed, and Will continued. “Let’s all take turns telling everyone two unusual things about ourselves, only, one of them has to be something embarrassing.”

  I cocked an eyebrow and gave him a glassy stare. “Why do we have to tell each other something embarrassing?”

  Will shrugged. “It’s fun. Plus, it helps to create a rapport.”

  I tapped my foot.

  “Melanie? How about you go first?”

  I crossed my arms. “No, why don’t you go first, Will. I’m sure we’d all like to hear Mr. Perfect’s take on himself.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Mr. Perfect?”

  I shifted in my seat. Will clearly hadn’t heard the nickname some of us gave him when he first joined the company and blew us all away with his success. Even though “Poop Boy” was eminently more suitable for him, I was committed. “Yes.” I was resolute.

  He looked unconcerned. “Sure. I’ll kick things off. Let me think.” He paused, tapping his chin. “One unusual thing about me is that I’m a little OCD. I always have to have my shoes lined up neatly in my closet, organized by type. And my embarrassing thing is that I listen to eighties rock in my car and have been known to sing along, which I do very badly. My personal favorite has to be Meatloaf. I love me a bit of Meatloaf.” He grinned at us.

  Everyone in the room chuckled. The image of Will dressed in his slick suits, driving his fancy car, and rocking down to Bat Out of Hell was amusing.

  “Okay, Melanie? Your turn.”

  “Well, I’m a bit of a whizz at chess, winning competitions. That’s something unusual people here don’t know about me. Plus, I was born in the backseat of a taxi.”

  “You were?” My eyes were huge.

  “My mom was on her way to the hospital, but, apparently, I came out too fast and, hey presto, baby delivered in the back of the taxi.”

  “So, that’s your embarrassing thing?” Will asked.

  Melanie shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Probably more embarrassing for my mom, though.”

  After the laughter and comments had died down, Will turned to me. “Your turn, Dunny.”

  I pursed my lips. “Okay. One unusual thing about me is that I was born without any wisdom teeth. So, I don’t have to go through the pain of having them extracted. Lucky, huh? And my embarrassing thing?” The image of walking in on a shirtless Will sprung instantly to mind. No, not that one. I cleared my throat. I decided to make a Parker reference, to ensure everyone, including Will Jordan, knew I had a boyfriend. A very special and significant boyfriend. “I guess that would have to be my first date with my boyfriend where I kind of flashed him my underwear by accident when my dress got caught on a barstool.”

  There was a general titter in the room.

  “And, what’s more, I ended up whacking myself in the nose—which hurt like crazy, I might add—as I tried to work my dress loose.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible!” exclaimed Melanie to various other comments.

  “Interesting. I felt sure you were going to go with the teddy bear pajamas,” Will said, smirking at me.

  All heads in the room swiveled back to me. “I . . . ah . . . yes, I guess some might see teddy bear pajamas as embarrassing. Personally, I don’t.” I glared at Will. Great. Now he had everyone in the room wondering how he knew about my preferences in nighttime attire.

  “No, you’re right, Dunny. Falling over and flashing your underwear on a first date is loads more embarrassing than choosing to wear teddy bear pajamas as a grown woman.”

  “Anyway, let’s move on, shall we? Who’s next? Danny, how about you?” I said, trying my best to ignore the rising heat in my cheeks.

  Luckily, everyone was more than happy to contribute their unusual and embarrassing things, after which we all got down to some work. I hated to admit it, but Will’s idea worked out great. The ice was well and truly shattered and we were buddying up to our new project team in no time, sharing jokes and anecdotes and going through the minutia of the project, highlighting all the areas that needed attention. I, personally, identified two key points that meant selling the solution would be tricky, which became lengthy discussion points.

  Of course, Will and I disagreed over virtually everything, but that had become our modus operandi these days. And I couldn’t see it changing any time soon.

  * * *

  I felt thoroughly prepared for the all-important twelfth date with Parker on Saturday night. I had channeled my inner Nigella Lawson—who I had secretly suspected was just waiting to come leaping out, looking a-mazing in a floral apron, cooking up exquisite culina
ry delights—and decided on a Thai-themed meal, with vegetable spring rolls to start, followed by a red chicken curry, fragrant rice, and cucumber salad. The meal would be finished off with mango with sticky rice for dessert.

  I had googled how to make a Thai banquet at home and had scoured the Asian markets for the weird and wonderful ingredients required to dazzle Parker with my cooking skills.

  I’d found a clip online with instructions on how to make everything on the menu, so I figured, how hard could it be? So what if I’d never actually cooked Thai food before. I’d eaten it plenty of times down at The Thai Elephant on a Friday night, so I knew how things should look and taste. I had this.

  I stood in my small kitchen, the ingredients I’d purchased laid out on the counter before me. I bit my lip. Perhaps I’d been a little ambitious? No, I can do this. I glanced at the clock. It was only three fifteen and Parker wasn’t due until seven. That gave me three whole hours to whip up dinner and forty-five minutes to get myself gracious-hostess ready. Easy.

  Or so I thought. The woman presenting the show online went too fast, and I had to keep pausing and rewinding with mucky hands. I got bits of food on my laptop, including some shrimp paste stuck between the f and g on my keyboard I just knew was going to have its own special kind of stench within a day or two.

  The woman presenting the show looked as fresh as a daisy, so very serene, and positively thrilled to be cooking. Me? I’d worked up a serious sweat, had blobs of food stuck in my hair, and was feeling anything but serene. She was beginning to get on my nerves.

  I paused Little Miss Know-It-All and tasted the red curry sauce. It didn’t taste the way it did at The Thai Elephant. In fact, it tasted a lot like red-colored coconut milk. I added more of everything and gave it another stir. I dipped a spoon in and took another mouthful. My eyes popped open wide. It was hot with a capital H! Water! Need water! I seized a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water, and slugged it back. Still burning. A voice in the back of my head said “milk.” I grabbed a carton of milk from the refrigerator and poured it into my mouth, not even caring as it ran down my chin and onto my top.