“Here you go, sweet pea. I made your favorite.” Mom handed me a plate with a large slice of cake and a dollop of cholesterol-laced cream on the side.
“Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.” Mom’s chocolate mud cake never lasted more than a couple of hours in the cake tin, it was so good.
“Thank you. This looks delicious,” Parker said, taking a slice of cake from Mom, who looked as pleased as punch. “Tell you about myself? Of course, Mr.— I mean, Joe. Well, I’m an only child, I grew up in Auckland, I like fine food and wine, and, of course, spending time with your wonderful daughter.” Parker gave my hand a quick squeeze, and I beamed.
“Fine food and wine, eh?” Dad asked, taking his slice of cake and leaning back in his leatherette chair. “Have you been to Davey’s? Now there’s a place that knows how to fry chicken!”
“Oh, yes,” Mom confirmed, a fried chicken glaze in her eyes.
I cringed. Davey’s had been Mom and Dad’s favorite place for a “slap up meal,” as they called it, since I could remember. Run by Dad’s friend, Davey—no surprises where he got the name for the place from—they specialized in deep-fried anything, including the vegetables, and desserts with enough sugar to give you diabetes on the spot. The paleo, low carb, clean food movements had completely passed Davey and his cronies by, that was for sure.
“I don’t believe I’ve been there. Where is it?” Parker replied politely.
“You haven’t been to Davey’s?” Dad sounded astonished, as though it was beyond human understanding why someone, who had lived their whole life in Auckland, had never been to Davey’s for an artery-clogging meal. “Cheryl, did you hear that? Parker’s never been to Davey’s!”
“Well, we’ll just have to remedy that, won’t we?” Mom chirped, licking her lips at the prospect of some of that deep-fried crapola.
Oh, great. That was all I needed, a “slap up meal” with Parker and my parents in a place that smelled of rancid fat—on a good day. On a bad? You don’t want to know. Davey’s was about as far-flung from the refined and elegant surrounds of Parker’s parents’ country club as could be. I squirmed in my seat. A change of subject was needed, stat!
“So, Dad. What’s happening in the world of the Rocket Road Pharmacy?”
As Dad launched into stories from the store, with Parker listening, I leaned back in my seat and tried to see my parents through Parker’s eyes. The hugging when we arrived got us off to a difficult start, but he seemed to have recovered since then. My parents, with their stories and cups of tea and endless props (I’ll have a word with them later about that photo of me in the orange disaster), were at least friendly. But they weren’t refined like Parker’s parents. I wondered what Sara’s parents were like, whether they were like Parker’s, all high class and stiff.
For the first time since we began dating, Parker was seeing where I came from—not just the person he thought he knew. As I watched him nod along to my Dad’s story about a customer having a fainting spell by the hand lotions, I wondered if he liked what he saw.
Chapter 19
WILL FLASHED A STRIP of card in front of my face, interrupting my work. As mildly irritating as it was, he caught my attention. And I’d been going cross-eyed from all the project figures, so it was a welcome break.
“What’s that?”
He hopped onto my desk, making himself right at home—as usual. “This, Dunny, is a ticket to the one and only Lady Gaga concert.”
“What?! But those are like hen’s teeth! Where did you get it?” I reached out to grab it. Will snatched it away before I got the chance.
“Hey, hands off! This is mine.”
I cocked my head. “You’re a Lady Gag fan?”
“Any self-respecting, safe-in-his-manhood Kiwi guy is a Lady Gaga fan. Have you lost your mind?” He smirked at me, and I let out a laugh.
“Who are you going with? Whoever it is, I’m jealous. You know how much I wanted tickets to that concert.”
He shrugged. “A bunch of friends. All chicks, of course.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course.
“And . . . I thought it would be appropriate for the two leaders of the most successful project this business has ever delivered on budget and on time . . . to go together.”
“Okay,” I said uncertainly, narrowing my eyes at him. “Are you saying you’re taking me?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, I ’spose I am.”
With a piglet squeal, I leaped out of my chair and hugged him, accidentally pushing him over. We landed on my desk, me pinning him down, as papers flew to the ground and my laptop began to teeter precariously on the table’s edge. I let out a panicked squeal, reached across a now prostrate Will, and grabbed it before it went crashing to the floor.
Pinned beneath me, Will looked up at me, and said, “Well, that’s one way to thank me, but really, Dunny, what would your boyfriend say?”
I suppressed a smile as heat rose in my cheeks. Lying on top of my coworker—my firm, muscular, coworker at that—on my desk in the middle of the work day wasn’t quite the image I wanted to project. A blush crept up my neck and took residence in my cheeks. I could feel Will begin to laugh below me. It was contagious. I giggled, putting my hand to my mouth.
“Are you going to get up?” he asked between chortles. “I mean, it’s fine by me if you don’t. I’m not the kind of guy to push a beautiful woman off me.”
I laughed and slapped his arm. “I bet!”
Wait. Will thinks I’m beautiful?
Embarrassment took root. I pushed myself off the desk and straightened back up, self-consciously tucking my shirt back in and pulling my skirt back around. My blush intensified. If anyone were to walk in on us right now, they would think we were having an office fling.
I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know—”
Will pushed himself up off my desk, back into his sitting position. “Throw yourself at me?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, flashing me that cheeky grin of his. “Really, Dunny. I never knew you cared.”
“It was an accident!” I insisted a little too loudly. As I smoothed out my skirt, I thought of Paige. Will was being his usual flirty self, but she would be mortified to know only seconds ago I was in the throes of full-body contact with the guy she wanted to be her One Last First Date! I squirmed uncomfortably.
Still grinning, Will waved the ticket in the air. “Still want it?”
“I—” Should I take it? Only seconds ago, going to a concert with Will Jordan and a gaggle of his adoring female fans felt harmless, a no-brainer. Now? Somehow it was different, like I’d be cheating on Parker or something. I guessed lying on top of a hot guy on your desk in the middle of the day could do that to a girl.
“Come on. We deserve this. We’ve worked really hard on this project. Let’s go out and let our hair down.”
I lifted my hand to touch my ponytail. What could it hurt? He was right, we had worked hard on this project, and it had turned out great. Now we’d delivered it, a fun night out could be just the thing to take my mind off Laura’s impending decision on the Regional Manager’s job. Even if it was with my rival.
I nodded at him. “Okay. That would be nice. I would love to go to the concert with you and your horde of adoring women.”
He handed me the ticket. “Excellent choice, Dunny. We are going to have an awesome time. Drinks at my place beforehand. I’ll text you the address.”
* * *
The night of the concert, I arrived at the address Will had given me right on time. I looked up at the modern apartment block, located on a leafy street only a couple of suburbs away from my own. I rang the intercom and was buzzed in. I climbed a flight of stairs and found Will’s front door. Number 174. I knocked.
A second later Will, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, opened up. “Dunny!” he exclaimed, standing back for me to walk in.
“Hey, ‘Poop Boy’,” I replied, handing him my jacket as I surveyed the room. It was a New York loft style place
, with wooden floorboards, exposed brick, and large windows. For a guy, the condo was tastefully decorated, no Playboy posters or beer pictures in sight. I whistled. “Nice place you’ve got here,” I commented, trying to act as though it wasn’t an incredibly odd experience to be at Will Jordan’s home—the guy, up until recently, I had despised.
“Thanks. We like it, don’t we, Killer?” He leaned down and picked up a fluffy Persian cat who virtually purred his head off at the attention.
I cocked an eyebrow. “You called that beautiful creature ‘Killer’?” I reached over and patted the cat’s soft fur. “Hello, Killer. What a horrible name your daddy gave you.”
“It’s a great name!” Will let the inappropriately named cat jump down to the floor and slink off. “Drink?” He walked into his gleaming stainless steel kitchen at the back of the room and opened the refrigerator. “I have wine, beer, juice, and your choice of soda.”
I followed him, placing my purse on top of the kitchen counter. “I’ll take a Coke, please.”
“No problemo.” He cracked open a couple of bottles and handed one to me. He raised his bottle, and we clinked. “Cheers.” He took a sip. “The others will be here soon.”
“Who are the others?” I took a sip. The bubbles traveled up my nose, making it tingle.
“Jacinta and Lori. A couple of old college friends. You’ll like them, they’re fun. They’re big fans.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Of you or Lada Gaga?” I suspected both.
“Ha, ha,” he deadpanned. “Lady Gaga, of course.”
As if by some supernatural force, the intercom buzzed on cue. “That’ll be them.” Will walked back to the door and answered it, buzzing his friends up. I sat down at the kitchen counter on one of his black leather barstools, looking around the walls as I sipped my drink. There were several photos of people I assumed were the grandparents who had raised him, a photo of poor Killer wearing a Blues rugby team cap and scarf, and a photo of an attractive young couple, smiling at the camera. Although I had no idea who they were, something inside me told me they must be Will’s parents. A strange sensation traveled over my chest.
I stood up when Will walked back into the kitchen, accompanied by two gorgeous women who were chatting excitedly amongst themselves. They were dressed like me, in pants and strappy tops, but one of them was wearing a tiara and gloves, looking every inch the diva.
“Dunny, this is Lori and Jacinta,” Will said.
“Hey!” Lori said, adjusting her tiara. “That’s a weird name. What’s it short for?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s just Will’s nickname for me. My name is Cassie.”
Her eyes got huge. “Well, then, it’s great to finally meet you, Cassie!”
I narrowed my gaze. What did she mean, “finally meet me”?
“Um, yes. It’s great to meet you, too.” I shot an enquiring look at Will. He didn’t make eye contact with me, instead offering his friends drinks as he had me.
“So, you work with Will, huh?” Lori asked as the three of us women sat down.
“Yes, I do.”
“That must be so fun. He’s the life and soul, I bet,” Lori replied.
I glanced at Will’s back as he busied himself with the girls’ drinks in the kitchen. “Something like that.”
“I remember when we were all doing that business admin course, remember, Jacinta?” Lori said.
“Oh, yeah. That was riveting.” Jacinta’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
Lori rolled her eyes. “I know, right? That’s where we met Will, you see, Cassie. He was like the guy everyone knew, Mr. Popular, always joking around with everyone.”
Sounded like the Will Jordan I knew. “I can imagine.”
“But when Jacinta got mono, he would make her notes of the lectures she missed and email them to her every day. Right, Jacinta?” Lori asked.
“Yup. He’s the best.”
“Totally.”
“That’s . . . great,” I said. What was this? Will Jordan’s personal fan club of besotted females?
The man himself returned to the living room, drinks in hand. “Here you go.” He handed his friends their bottles.
“We were just telling Cassie how awesome you are,” Jacinta said as she took hers.
“Were you now?” Will sat down on the sofa next to me. “Don’t listen to them, Dunny. I had them brainwashed the first week I met them.”
“Sounds like it to me,” I replied, taking a sip of my drink.
“Cassie and I are in the running for the same promotion at work, aren’t we?”
Surprised he raised the elephant in the room so casually, I nodded, “We sure are.”
Jacinta raised her eyebrows. “Well, you need to put that corporate rivalry away tonight and become Gaga’s Little Monsters!”
We all laughed and clinked drinks. As the others chatted, I couldn’t help but size the women up. They were gorgeous, with their long, skinny legs and pretty smiles, but they were also fun and warm—not what I’d expected. But then, I didn’t know what to expect of Will anymore.
When it was time to leave to go to the concert, I collected the empty bottles and took them to the kitchen while Lori and Jacinta chatted on the sofa by one of the large picture windows.
“Thanks, Dunny,” Will said, taking them from me and putting them in his recycling bin. Will Jordan, a tidy and organized man? Who’d have thought it?
“You really want the Regional Manager’s job, don’t you?” Will asked, his back to me.
I didn’t hesitate in answering him. “Oh, yes. Almost as much as I want to marry Parker. Well, I want both of those things.”
He turned to face me, nodded, and smiled. “And that would be your perfect world? Regional Manager and Mrs. Parker Whatever-His-Name-Is?”
“Hamilton. I’d be Cassie Dunhill-Hamilton.” I smiled. I liked the sound of that. Mrs. Cassandra Dunhill-Hamilton, mother to Christopher and Charlotte.
“Well, I don’t know about the whole marriage thing, but I guess we’ll find out pretty soon who’s got the job, now the project’s done and dusted.”
I nodded back, the nerves pinging right down to my fingertips. “I guess we will.”
He extended his hand. “It’s been a good race, the future Mrs. Cassie Dunhill-Pamblington.”
I rolled my eyes. Was he doing this on purpose? “Hamilton. Ham-il-ton.”
He shrugged, grinning. “Whatever. May the best man win.” He extended his hand toward me.
We shook as I let out a laugh. “Thanks for thinking of me as a man.”
He smiled and shook his head. “We’d better get going.” He pulled his hand away. “Ladies? It’s time to go.”
Jacinta and Lori were up and ready to leave before you could say “Mother Monster,” and we headed out the door, Will and his three lady friends.
And the concert was out of this world. The music, the costumes, Lady Gaga. We danced, we sang, we had the best time. By the end of the evening, Lori, Jacinta, and I were like old friends, laughing at one another’s jokes and finishing one another’s sentences. At one point, Lori called us “Will’s Angels,” and I was having such a good time with them all I didn’t even mind.
Yes, I was seeing a different side to Will. And I liked what I saw.
Chapter 20
THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, BAILEY delivered our sugar-fix of choice as we sat at our usual table in the window of the Cozy Cottage Café.
“What’s this big news of yours, Paige? Only, I think I might have an idea.” Marissa let out a giggle as she waggled her eyebrows.
“Well,” Paige began, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright, “I decided it was about time I got on with things.”
“And?” I led. By the looks of her she had “gotten on with things” and liked the way they had turned out.
“And”—she paused for effect, her eyes dancing—“I asked Will out.” Her grin was so wide, it almost met her ears.
“Oh, my god!” Marissa squealed, bouncing up and down on he
r seat. “You did it! That’s so amazing, Paige!”
“What did he say?” I knew what she was going to say before she even said it. For some reason, I had a sinking feeling in my belly. What I couldn’t work out was why? Why would it bother me if Paige dated Will? What business was it of mine? Will and I may have become almost-friends over the last few weeks, but it wasn’t like we had any romantic feelings for one another or anything.
“He said yes! We’re going out on Friday night after work.”
“Oh, Paige.” Marissa put her hand to her heart in an uncharacteristically sentimental gesture. “You see? I told you it was you! Didn’t I, Cassie? Cassie?” She nudged me with her elbow, bringing me back to earth.
“What? Oh, yes. Yes, you did.”
Marissa shot me a look.
“That’s great, Paige.” I smiled at her, trying not to think of my own woes. Parker doesn’t love me. He dated Sara for years.
“Bailey!” Marissa called across the café, giving me a jolt as heads turned in our direction. “You have to hear this!”
Never one to miss a juicy bit of news, Bailey finished serving a customer, apologizing for her unruly customer at the table in the window, and headed over to our table. She pulled up a chair from a spare table and sat down. “What’s happening?”
Marissa stared at Paige in expectation, a grin teasing the edges of her mouth. “Paige? Care to share your news with Bailey?”
“Well,” Paige began, clearly loving having the opportunity to tell someone else her news, “Will and I are going out on a date.”
Bailey’s eyes got huge as her jaw dropped. “He asked you out?”
“No, I asked him,” Paige confirmed.
“That’s so exciting! When? How?” Bailey asked eagerly.
“Yes, tell us everything,” Marissa insisted.
We listened as Paige told us how she had plucked up the courage to ask Will out after weeks of fretting over it. How she’d worn her lucky dress, the one with the white cuffs and collar. How he was about to be her One Last First Date. As she spoke, her pretty face glowed with happiness. She was fulfilling the beach pact, she was always meant to be with Will. He was her “One.”
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