Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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 gosh!” Marissa squealed, bouncing up and down on her 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 as a grin teased 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.”
“Where are you going?” Marissa asked.
“We’re just going for a drink at O’Dowd’s, all very casual and familiar. It was his idea. And I like it.”
I thought of our usual Friday night grab-a-quick-drink-after-work spot. O’Dowd’s was rowdy and fun—not exactly a romantic spot—but then I knew Will’s taste. Unpretentious and fun, O’Dowd’s was totally his style.
“And then we’re going to go out to dinner afterwards. I know it’ll be just perfect because . . . well, because he’s Will.” She beamed at us across the table.
“Oh, Paige.” Bailey sighed. “You girls are amazing. You’ll all be married off, happily living with your hunky husbands. Well, not that I’ve met Parker yet, but I know Will’s a total hottie.”
Paige turned to Bailey abruptly. “You’ve met Will?”
I tensed up.
“Yes, when he came in here with Cassie a while back. He is such a nice guy. You’re a lucky girl.”
“You brought Will here? Why didn’t you tell me?” Paige asked, a hurt look on her face. Although none of us had ever said it out loud, we had an agreement that the Cozy Cottage Café was our place. You only ever brought another person here if they were really important. And so far, none of us had.
“Actually—” I began, pausing to clear my throat. “Will was the one who brought me here after a meeting we went to together. He used to come to get his coffee here when he worked up the road.” I crossed my arms in front of me like a shield.
“Oh,” was Paige’s only response.
“It’s no big deal.” My mind turned to the Lady Gaga concert Will took me to—something else I hadn’t shared with my besties.
Why was I keeping these things from them?
Bailey’s eyes darted from Paige to me and back again. “Did I put my foot in it?”
“No, no,” Paige insisted with a toss of her hair. “It’s all fine. You’re right, Cassie. It’s not a big deal.”
I smiled at her. “It was just coffee with me. He’s going on a date with you.” I bit my lip and consciously uncrossed my arms.
“Exactly. It was just coffee,” Marissa said with conviction. “I have a good feeling about you two.” She rubbed Paige’s arm, who broke into a fresh smile.
Bailey stood up, pushing her chair back from the table with a screech on the tiled floor. “I want to hear all about it, but I’d really better get back to work.” She gave Paige’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’m so happy for you.”
With Bailey gone, Marissa asked, “What are you going to wear?”
As Paige rattled off her wardrobe options, I took a few deep breaths, trying my best to focus. “You should definitely go for that shirt with the hearts. You look amazing in that,” I said, trying to get into the swing of the conversation. But try as I might, I couldn’t get rid of that strange knot in the pit of my stomach, the one telling me something I didn’t quite understand.
Back in the office later that day, Marissa grabbed a hold of my arm as I passed by on my way to the printer and dragged me into the kitchenette.
“What the—?” I began loudly, my eyes huge with astonishment at being manhandled. I tugged my arm away from her firm grip and gave it a rub.
“Shh!” she said, her finger to her lips. She poked her head out the door, and then back inside. “What’s got into you?” she asked in a loud whisper.
“What’s got into me?” I asked, incredulous. “You’re the one dragging people around like you’re one of The Cavemen!”
“Shh!” she repeated. “I don’t want Paige to hear.”
My shoulders slumped. In a flash, I knew exactly what she was referring to. “Oh, that.”
“Yes, that .” She looked at me with expectation.
I let out a sigh. “I don’t know. I guess things aren’t that great with Parker.”
“They’re not?” she asked, leaning in toward me as concern clouded her eyes.
I shook my head, my face downcast. In hushed tones, so the world and its dog wouldn’t learn my sad love-life woes, I launched into the full spiel: how I’d accidentally told Parker I loved him in the car that day; how his mother treated me like some sort of interrogation project as his dad leered at me over the smoked salmon; how this new threat in the form of Sara, his ex-girlfriend, had seemingly materialized out of thin air.
“I may be his rebound girl, not ‘The One.’”
“Oh, my gosh, Cassie. I had no idea,” Marissa said, rubbing my arm. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
I shrugged, played with the cuff of my shirt. “I don’t know. I guess I had this plan and the beach pact and everything. I mean, I said I was going to marry the next guy I dated, and I guess I didn’t want you to know it wasn’t working out the way I thought it would.”
“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” she pronounced, her hands on her hips.
“Gee, thanks for your support,” I shot back, wounded.
Marissa took me by the arms, forcing me to look directly at her. What was with this manhandling today? “Look. Just because you agreed to this One Last First Date thing doesn’t mean you have to go through with it. It was just some stupid thing we did on the beach after one too many wines.”
It took a moment for what Marissa was saying to sink in. Not be with Parker? Abandon the whole thing? Forget about the beach pact? I opened my mouth to speak. All I managed was, “But, I—” before I closed it again.
“Cassie, look at me.”
I did as instructed; I didn’t want to be grabbed again.
“Date Parker if that’s what you want to do, but forget about any of that ridiculous beach pact stuff. None of that matters.”
I nodded. Not dating Parker—the man I knew was my future husband, the future father of my children, fellow pet owner, and Volvo owner—was so far away from what I was sure I had wanted. I let out a long, slow breath. “No. It’s good. I want to be with him. We’re just having some speed wobbles, that’s all.”
“As long as you’re sure.”
“I am.” I sounded about three hundred percent more convinced than I felt.