Chapter 14
Chapter 14
IT WAS HARD TO think of anything else for the rest of that week, so I welcomed the chance to take a break from the mental treadmill for more than half an hour when I met with the recruiter for the Email Marketing Assistant role I’d applied for.
She was a woman called Madison “you can call me Madi with an i ” O’Donnell, who looked about half my age—which of course she wasn’t, as that would make her fourteen and we have laws against child labor in this country. She was, however, possibly the most enthusiastic person I’ve ever met in my entire life.
“Oh, my gosh. You are super, super perfect for this role, Paigey! Can I call you Paigey?” she said, flicking through my CV in her company’s offices in downtown Auckland.
“Sure.” Ah, no.
“They are going to L. O. V. E. love you over there at Nettco Electricity, really they are.” Her voice was loud, it was high, it was shrill. Suddenly, I regretted not bringing earplugs with me.
I smiled at her, feeling about one hundred years old. How did she get so perky? And how could she be so overwhelmingly excited about a job in email marketing at a company that sold electricity? “That’s great.”
“Oh, it is, Paigey, it is! Now, I see you have a degree in . . .” She scanned the page.
“Marketing,” I confirmed.
“Yes! Marketing. Good for you! You go, girl! Which is perfect, because they want a marketing assistant!” She grinned at me, her hands palm up, as though this was some crazy cosmic coincidence and nothing to do with the fact I needed the degree in marketing to have become a marketing professional in the first place.
“Great.”
Where did they find this woman?
“So.” She pasted on a serious “let’s get down to business” face. She now looked like she could be fourteen and a half. “We need to talk about the role. Even though I just know you’ll be super awesome in it, I need to ensure that You. Are. The. Best. Possible. Fit.” She punctuated each word by stabbing her index finger on the table in front of her before breaking into a broad smile.
She sure was one goofy gal.
“Of course. Well, let me tell you about the campaigns I was involved in at AGD. When we launched the new fiber package last year, I was instrumental in—” I halted when I noticed Madi shaking her head, her glossy lips pursed together into a thin line.
“Uh-ah. That’s not what I want to hear about,” she trilled.
“It’s not?”
“No way. What I want to hear about is you . What do you like? What do you love ? I want to hear your passions, what excites you, what makes Paigey Mills tick.”
“Ah, it’s ‘Miller,’ not ‘Mills.’”
She slapped her hands down on the table, making my jump. “Whatever. My point is not what you’ve done, it’s who you are. That’s what I’m interested in. I can read all about what you’ve done in here.” She brandished my CV at me before slapping it back onto the table. “That’s what’s going to make me decide whether to send you to meet those amazing people over at Nettco Electricity. So”—she leaned back in her chair—“tell me about Paigey.”
I cleared my throat. It had become obvious to me I needed to turn up my inner cheerleader several notches to get across the line with Madi with an i . I knew I could do it, I could meet the challenge. I was a positive person by nature. I’m not proud, but I launched into all the things that made me happy, a long list, including my family and friends, beach bonfires (not the pact), and even my newfound love—okay, mild like—of running.
Madi nodded along, looking singularly unimpressed, despite what I thought was my over-the-top enthusiasm.
“And baking. I especially love to bake.”
Madi sat forward in her chair. “Ooh, what do you bake?”
That got her attention.
“Cakes, mainly, but also muffins and cookies. I’ve been doing it for years at home, and now I’m helping my friend out by baking at her café, as well as waitressing. It’s fun.” I smiled my first genuine smile of the meeting.
“Which one?”
“The Cozy Cottage Café. Do you know it?”
“Know it? I love it!” Madi exclaimed.
Of course, she did.
“I had a slice of white chocolate cheesecake there yesterday. It was out of this world good.”
“Was it white chocolate and raspberry?”
She nodded. “Oh yes, that’s the one. I forgot about those little raspberries. Delish!”
I grinned. “I baked that.”
And from there it was plain sailing. Madi decided on the spot to put me forward for the interview, even calling her contact at Nettco while I sat opposite her, telling them what an out-of-this- world candidate I was and how they simply had to meet with me immediately . I’d be lying if I said it didn’t stroke my ego, making me feel pretty darn special.
By the end of the meeting, Madi pulled me in for a hug, promised me she’d stop by the café for more of what she referred to as “heaven on a plate,” and I left with an interview the following Monday for the Email Marketing Assistant’s job at Nettco.
Meanwhile, things with Bailey at the café were a little strained, to say the least. Well, they were for me, anyway. She was her usual happy self, getting on with the business of running the Cozy Cottage, as she did every day. Luckily for me, she didn’t raise the whole Last First Date debacle, and it became a large Josh-shaped elephant in the room.
I was putting the final touches on a cake with a frosting bag early on Friday morning when there was a knock on the back door. Opening up, I was met by the now habitual sight of a smiling Josh, box of beans held in his arms.
“Morning, Paige!”
“Hey, there . . . Josh.” I stood in the doorway, holding the door. My belly did a little flip. This was the first time I’d seen him since my friends had got it all wrong about him and me and it felt . . . uncomfortable.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. Sorry.” I stood back for him, and he brushed past me, heading to the back of the kitchen.
I waited by the door as he placed the beans in the pantry, not sure quite what to do or say. Does he know Bailey and Marissa chose him as my One Last First Date?
“Where were you earlier?” he asked as he walked back into the kitchen, his hands now empty.
I gripped the door with my hand. “What do you mean?”
“Our run. I waited, but you didn’t show.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I totally forgot.”
“No worries. How about we go for one tomorrow? I’ve got some time in the afternoon, if that works for you?”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday.” My big second date with Marcus. My chest expanded with anticipation.
“I’m aware of that.” He grinned at me. “How about it?”
“Oh, I’m not sure.” I had a busy afternoon of date preparation planned: waxing, buffing, plucking, the works.
“Isn’t your Color Run soon?”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts. Let’s do it. We could do the Tamaki Drive run, along the beaches. It’ll be busy, but it’s meant to be a stunning day. Good for the soul, and all that malarkey.” His grin broadened. Why was he in such a good mood? “See you at the that kayak place at two.”
Not wanting to give in to my discomfort of spending time with my would-be Last First Date, I agreed. “Sure.”
“Awesome.” He flashed me his brilliant smile, and a strange feeling passed across my chest. What was it? Guilt? I wasn’t sure. “See you then. It’s a nice, flat run, so I’m sure you’ll cope just fine. Maybe we could grab a coffee afterward?”
“Oh, I can’t, sorry.” Going on a run with Josh was one thing, having coffee afterward when I could be preparing for my big date, was quite another.
“Okay, no worries. See you tomorrow.”
I closed the door behind him. That wasn’t so bad. I could cope with seeing Josh. He was just Josh, after all. It was no big deal.
“You’re seeing Josh tomorrow?”
I looked up to see Bailey standing in the entranceway, a quizzical look and a half smile on her face.
“Yes.” I stood up straighter and looked her in the eye. “We’re going on a run. I’m still in training, remember? We’re running, and then I’m going home to get ready for my date with Marcus .”
She crossed her arms over her chest, her half smile still in evidence. “Sounds great.”
“It is.” I smiled back at her. Two could play this game. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a cake to decorate.”
“Sure,” Bailey said before turning away.
I returned to the cake, picked up the frosting bag, and aimed it at the edge where I’d almost finished a row of flowers. In my distracted state, I must have squeezed too hard. A large dollop of frosting landed on the cake, ruining it. I let out a sigh. The cake now looked like a giant footstep had squished a third of the flowers. I’d have to scrape it off and start again.
Oh, and try not to think about how potentially awkward my run with Josh could be tomorrow.
We met at the allotted time by the kayak rental place the following afternoon. I had grown used to running in the cool morning air—and being able to hide behind my appropriately thick and baggy sweatshirt, hiding any lumps or bumps I didn’t want the world to see. But the afternoon was warm, so I’d been forced to dust off an old pair of running shorts and a T-shirt.
As I stood, waiting for Josh to arrive, I noticed the elastic waistband on the shorts wasn’t quite as tight as I’d expected it to be. Huh . Perhaps I had started to lose some of that muffin top I’d been adding to so diligently for the last few months—or longer? Josh and I had got into a regular routine of running in the mornings, so it was possible. And I’d noticed my regular clothes hadn’t felt quite as uncomfortable lately. I warmed at the thought.
I spotted a man running toward me and knew by his gait it was Josh. A moment later, he was by my side, panting but with his characteristic smile on his face.
“Gorgeous day for a run, right?” I said.
“So gorgeous. Hey, you look cute.” He bounced from foot to foot.
I glanced down at my ensemble. I was wearing one of the few outfits I’d bought new because who wants to wear someone’s old work-out clothes? Layer upon layer of someone else’s dried sweat. Eww . “Thanks.”
“Shall we get going? I figured you could easily do the five kilometers now. I’ve got the route mapped out, and we can measure it on this.” He brandished his watch at me, some sort of black plastic fitness device, I assumed. “Shall we give it a shot?”
I thought about how I wanted to look and feel the best I could for my date with Marcus. Running that far now may ultimately help me look better, but it might also might make me tired for tonight. And I needed to be on my game.
“How about we see how we go? I’m not sure I’m ready.”
Josh was still bouncing from foot to foot as though he needed an urgent bathroom break. “Are you chicken?” he goaded.
“No!” I put my hands on my hips. How dare he!
“Yeah, you are. You’re chicken.” He shot me a cheeky grin.
“No, I’m not.”
“Well, if you’re not chicken, what are you, then?”
My heart clanged in my chest. “I have a date tonight, and I . . . I don’t want to be tired.”
What was I doing?
Josh ceased bouncing from foot to foot. “A date, huh? I thought—” he stopped mid-sentence and looked at me.
A knot began to form in my tummy as heat crawled up my face. “You thought what?” I pressed my lips together, looking at him from behind my lashes. What would he say? Did he know Marissa and Bailey had singled him out him as my Last First Date?
He shook his head, his ever-present smile returning. “Nothing. Let’s get going.”
We began to jog along, side by side. I glanced at him, trying to gauge his reaction. If he was bothered, he hid it well. Perhaps my friends hadn’t told him, after all?
After running in silence along the path beside the sparkling blue Hauraki Gulf for a few minutes, I began to feel bad about what I’d done. I’d baited him, and it hadn’t been a fair—or kind—thing to do. I decided I needed to make up for it as best I could, so I turned to Chatty Paige, the version of me most people seemed to like.
“What are you up to this weekend?” I asked, my tone bright and light.
“Not a lot. I’m going to shoot some pool with a couple of friends tonight, but I generally like to have a quiet Sunday to recover from the week.”
“Do you do that a lot?”
“Well, yes. Every Sunday.”
I laughed between taking in enough air. “I mean, do you shoot pool a lot?”
“I’ve got a regular thing going with some guys, yeah.”
“I love pool.” I’d grown up playing pool with my Dad. We had an old secondhand table in the garage, and we used to go out there and play after dinner most nights. Since moving back home after Dad’s diagnosis, that routine had been replaced with reality TV. I’d like to get the old table out again some time. “I’m a pretty good player, you know.”
“Is that a challenge, Paige Miller?” Josh asked, as he turned his head and looked at me. I noticed he was smiling once more. The knot in my belly unraveled.
“Sure. If you want it to be.” I grinned back at him.
“All right. How about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday, remember. You don’t do anything on Sundays.”
“I could make an exception for pool.”
“All right.” I had begun to pant harder now, so I restricted myself to shorter sentences between breaths. “Max’s Pool Hall.” Pant “Tomorrow at three.” Pant pant .
“Sure, that sounds fun. I warn you, though, I’m a pretty handy player.” Josh was clearly not having the same breathing challenges as me.
“Fighting talk.” Pant. “We’ll see.” Pant .
We ran in silence for some time, primarily because I needed to concentrate on breathing and putting one foot in front of the other while dodging walkers, runners, and the unpredictable rollerbladers on the path, out enjoying the beautiful afternoon. The surprisingly hot autumn sun was beating down on us. Suddenly thirsty, I looked longingly at a grassy area in the shade of a large tree at Mission Bay, a gorgeous golden sand beach next to Tamaki Drive.
“Josh?” Pant . “Can we stop?” Pant . I pointed at the tree.
He glanced down at his watch. “Sure. We’ve been running for over two and a half kilometers, anyway. This can be halfway.”
We both jogged—there may have been some staggering on my behalf—over to the shaded area, and I plunked myself down on the ground in relief. Dodging the people and the heat of the sun had all taken its toll. I was used to the relative quiet of early morning, only serious runners—and me—around.
“Here.” Josh passed me a bottle of water from the clip on his belt.
“Thanks.” I took a large mouthful, feeling instantly better. I handed the bottle back to him and watched as he took a drink. I noticed he didn’t wipe the nozzle before drinking. It seemed odd, somehow intimate, almost.
“Gosh, it’s lovely here,” I commented, looking at the young children splashing about in the pristine knee-deep water, their parents keeping a watchful eye.
“It is, isn’t it?”
“Mm-hm.” I took a deep breath. “Hey, what did you used to do, before you changed to the coffee bean thing?”
Josh looked out at Rangitoto, the dormant volcano out to sea. “I worked for a big global company.”
The words “vice president” from Bailey and Marissa’s dossier sprang into my mind. “You were a vice president?”
He nodded. “I was Vice President of Finance.” He chuckled. “It seems a million years ago now.”
“I bet.” I studied his profile, as I’d done that morning he’d behaved strangely with me outside the War Memorial Museum. How had he gone from Vice President of Finance at a large global company to coffee bean delivery guy?
“Should we get going? I figure we could run back and we would have done a decent distance,” he said.
“Sure.” I stood up next to him, and we began to jog back in the direction we’d come from. Someone caught my eye. I looked at him and looked away, doing a double take. I stopped in my tracks, gawping, my jaw slackening.
“Everything all right?” I could hear Josh say in the distance once he must have realized I was no longer at his side.
I watched as a man, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, stood laughing with a woman I did not recognize. He reached across and put his hand on her shoulder as they smiled at one another, looking so happy together. She looked up, and before I could even move, they kissed one another.
“That’s my . . .” I trailed off. Somehow, I found the ability to move again and walked in a daze toward the couple, like I was a piece of metal being drawn in by a magnet.
“Dad?”
He looked over at me, and his smile dropped. “Paige. Honey. What are you doing here?”
I gawped at him. Instead of answering his question, I posed one of my own. “Who’s that?” I nodded at the woman I had just watched him kiss only moments ago.
“This is Gaylene.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders possessively.
She beamed at me. “Hi, Paige. It’s great to meet you. Your dad has told me so many great things about you.”
I blinked at her. Well, he hadn’t breathed a word about you . I was so confused. My dad was here, with a woman called Gaylene, laughing and kissing her?
I looked up, startled, as Josh slipped his hand into mine. “Hey,” he said quietly. “You okay?”
It was what I needed to snap me into action. I smiled at him, feeling the warmth of his hand in mine, grateful for his kindness. “Yes.” I swallowed and turned back to Dad and Gaylene. “Dad? Can we have a moment?”
“Sure, lamb chop. Of course.”
I loosened my hand from Josh’s and walked a few paces away with Dad. “Who’s Gaylene?”
“I wanted to tell you about her, but there hasn’t been the right time. I’m sorry.”
I looked into his eyes and could see just how sorry he was. “Who is she?”
“She’s . . . well, I suppose you could say she’s my girlfriend.” He gave a small shrug, trying to suppress a smile.
“You’ve got a girlfriend ?” My eyes bulged out of my head. My dad, who spent every evening in front of the television, who allegedly hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since my mother left, had a girlfriend. What was this, a parallel universe where middle-aged dads had girlfriends and I had no career?
“Yes. She’s really lovely, you’ll like her.”
“Why didn’t you want to tell me about her? It’s not like she’s going to be my new mommy, Dad, even if this thing between you is serious. I’m a grown woman, you know.”
“I know. And it is. Serious, that is.”
What ? “How long?”
“How long have I known her? A while, but we only started dating recently. We met through that diabetes support group I mentioned to you.”
I watched as he glanced over at Gaylene, who was sitting with Josh on the ground. She waved at us, and I lifted my hand to wave back. Weird. I just waved at Dad’s girlfriend.
In the distance, a metaphorical penny dropped. All those healthy fats and proteins he’d been eating, the lack of chocolate bars ferreted away so I wouldn’t find them—which I always did—around the house. “Is that why you’ve gone Paleo on me?”
“Yes, it’s all part of it. Gaylene and I agreed to do it together, you see. She’s a wonderful support.”
I ignored the uncomfortable twist in my belly. She’s achieved what I couldn’t.
We both looked over at her again. This time she was deep in conversation with Josh about something. What on earth did they find to talk about?
I smiled at Dad and drew him in for a hug.
“What’s that for?” he asked over my shoulder.
“Because I love you,” I replied, shocked when my voice caught.
“Oh, lamb chop.” Dad squeezed me tighter. “Would you like to meet her properly?”
“Sure. I’d like that.” I gave him a watery smile.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and we walked together over to Josh and Gaylene. They both stood up to greet us, Josh in his usual bound-up-in-one-fluid-motion kind of way.
“Paige, honey, this is Gaylene.”
I reached my hand out and we shook.
“It’s so lovely to meet you, Paige.” Gaylene’s face creased into a kind smile.
“You too,” I muttered.
“And you must be Paige’s . . . friend?” He glanced at me out of the corner of my eye. “I’m Rob,” Dad said to Josh.
“Yes, I am. I’m Josh Bentley, pleased to meet you, Rob.”
The men shook hands. I smiled weakly at them all. This was surreal. My dad and his girlfriend—I was still nowhere near being used to that one—and my would-be Last First Date, standing together on the grass at Mission Bay.
“So, how do you know my Paige? Are you at AGD, too? That place works my girl too hard, you know,” Dad said to Josh.
I shot a look at Josh, giving a small shake of my head, my eyes pleading with him not to mention that he knows me as a temporary waitress at the Cozy Cottage.
“They do, Rob, they really do. We’ve done some work together, but I’m actually out on my own in the coffee business these days.”
“Oh, I know who you are, now!” Gaylene exclaimed. “I saw you on TV. You run Ned’s Coffee.”
I opened my mouth to explain she must have been mistaken, that Josh was the delivery guy, and the only way he’d be on TV would be if he was at a rugby match and they filmed the crowd, when Josh said, “Yeah, that’s me. Did you see that thing on local businesses on Your News last week?”
My mouth slackened, and my eyes could have popped out of my head as I listened to Gaylene and Josh discussing how much his recent television appearance had done for his business. Apparently, Ned’s profits were up and he was even considering expanding his operation to meet the upturn in demand. Or something like that. I was too gobsmacked to catch the details.
“But . . . but you deliver the beans,” I said to him when I had gained the ability to speak once more.
Josh smiled at me and winked. “Only for special customers.”
“Oh, I see,” I replied, not seeing in the slightest. Did he mean Bailey? Was Bailey his “special customer”? Did Josh have a thing for Bailey? An odd sensation I couldn’t identify passed over my chest.
“We really should get on with this run. Haven’t you got somewhere to be tonight?” Josh said once we’d reached the path.
Given recent developments, my date with Marcus had completely slipped my mind.
“You’re right. Gaylene, it was . . .” What was it? Good? Weird? In the end, I settled on that platitude, “nice to meet you. And Dad, I’ll see you at home tomorrow. I’m out tonight.”
After everyone had said goodbye and told one another how great it was to meet each other once more, Josh and I turned back and followed the path we had come. This time, though, I barely noticed I was running, so occupied was my mind with my thoughts. Dad had a girlfriend, who he looked totally in love with, and Josh was the owner and operator of Ned’s Coffee, one of the city’s most successful food companies. I felt like I was in a Salvador Dali painting, it was all so surreal.
We reached the kayak rental place where we had met earlier on in the afternoon.
“Hey, great pace on the way back here,” Josh said, checking his watch. “We smashed our time from the run on the way there.”
I chortled. “It must be the fact I just met my dad’s girlfriend for the first time.”
“About that.” Josh’s voice was soft. “Was that weird for you? I mean, you clearly had no idea your dad was in a relationship with anyone, right?”
“Ah, no.” That was the understatement of the day.
“He’s not married?”
“No! His wife hasn’t been on the scene for many years.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Would that be your mother?”
“Ah, yes.”
I noticed Josh had an inquisitive look on his face, and I knew exactly why. I’d encountered it from other people many times before. I knew it was weird that I didn’t often think of my dad’s ex-wife as my mother. Only on Mother’s Day and perhaps my birthday every once in a while. She’d been gone so long, she didn’t really enter my consciousness any more. And I didn’t feel bad about it. It was simply the way it was. I mean, how could you miss something you never really had in the first place? And besides, Dad and I were a tight unit and always had been.
Only, neither of us had been particularly honest with one another lately. I chewed the inside of my lip.
Josh smiled at me. “I know you need to get going for this big date of yours, but if you want to talk about it . . .”
My big date! He was right; I needed to get home to get ready. “No, I’m fine. Really. And thanks.”
“No worries. See you tomorrow for that pool game?”
“I’m going to whip your ass, you know that, right?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ll see.”