Chapter 9
Chapter 9
THE WHOLE NEXT WEEK was business as usual at the café, and coming up with new and fun ideas for Cassie and Will’s wedding. They had given us a few guidelines on their tastes, with one thing we had to supply—gourmet burgers. Apparently, they’d bonded for the first time over the “best burgers in town” at a diner and they wanted to remember that on their big day.
Yeah, I know. Cute and romantic, right?
I grabbed a few minutes after the lunch rush to catch up on invoices and noticed an email inquiry via our website, asking us to quote for an upcoming event. It was only small, catering lunch for twelve at a meeting of a company board. But it was our first client—well, the first one we didn’t know personally, anyway.
I smiled to myself. Maybe this catering idea was just what I needed to take my mind off my lack of a Last First Date?
I jumped up from my seat at the kitchen counter, almost knocking Paige sideways in the process.
“Whoa!” With impressive dexterity, she managed to keep a tray of frittatas and paninis balanced in her hands.
“Sorry, sorry,” I said hastily. “Look!” I pointed at the screen, pressing my lips together to avoid squealing like an excited kid on Christmas morning.
Paige put her tray down on the counter and peered at the screen. She straightened up and looked at me, her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God!”
“I know, right?”
I’m not proud, but we did actually hop up and down on the spot, clutching hands.
Sophie walked into the kitchen carrying a stack of used dishes. “What’s going on, you two?”
“We just got our first catering enquiry,” I told her, beaming.
“Cool.” She placed the stack of dishes on the counter. “Guess you’d better call my sexy roommate Jason, then.” She shot me a look I chose to ignore.
I mean, why was it when you were single everyone wanted to match-make you? As if you couldn’t be happy unless you were in a relationship?
Forget the fact I’d agreed to a pact to marry the next guy I dated and did want to find my special someone. This was on principle.
“We might need to win their business first before we go hiring anyone new,” I replied.
“Well, when you do, let me know.” Sophie left the kitchen, heading back out to serve a customer.
“I’ll email them back, ask them what they’re looking for, and send them some sample menus.” I sat back down at my laptop to compose a winning email.
“Sounds great. Oh, I knew this would work.”
As I began to type, I smiled to myself. I hoped she was right.
Later that day, I was working alongside Sophie at the counter serving the last lunch customers when Ryan sauntered across the café floor. He hadn’t come at his usual time again this morning, and I’d assumed it just wasn’t a day for the Norse gods to visit us mere mortals.
Either that or he was just as confused by what had almost happened as I was.
I mumbled my hello and tried not to notice the way his white shirt showed off his light tan, or the fact he shot me an electric look with those eyes of his when he said hello.
“Hi, Ryan,” Sophie cooed beside me.
“Hey, Soph. Looking good today.” He smiled at Sophie and then looked back at me. “You too, Bailey.”
Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush.
I blushed.
Man, I was so freaking predictable.
“Are you after a coffee?” Sophie asked as I scanned the counter for something to cool my burning cheeks. AC? An iceberg, perhaps?
I found nothing.
“Sure am.”
“Your usual? Or did you want to try something new?”
“My usual would be great, thanks.”
Knowing my face was probably the color of a ripe tomato about now, I excused myself, turned, and walked into the kitchen. I placed my palms on the cool counter then lifted them to my face, hoping they would counter the heat.
What was it about this guy that made me constantly react like a teenager with a crush?
“You okay?” Paige’s voice startled me. “You look all hot and bothered.”
“Oh, yes. Fine, thanks.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, unconvinced. “Something’s got you worked up.”
“What? Oh, nothing. It’s just a hot flash or something. Weird, right?”
What? I was menopausal now?
“A hot flash?”
Before I could stop her, she shot past me and out into the café.
I scrunched my eyes shut. Only Ryan and Sophie were at the counter when I came in here. It wouldn’t exactly take a rocket scientist to put two and two together and work out “Bailey’s got a crush on Ryan.”
I moved further into the kitchen, searching for something to do to take my mind off what was coming, when Paige came back in. My secret crush would be outed, and she’d make it her personal mission to match-make Ryan and me.
This was not going to be pretty.
I began to rinse the stack of lunchtime dishes, placing them in the industrial dishwasher. It didn’t take long before Paige was standing beside me.
“There are two possibilities here—you either like an elderly gentleman with a walking stick and a cravat who just walked in, or someone else.”
“Who said I liked anyone?” I bluffed.
“Blushing usually equals attraction. And you’re far too young for the menopause, no matter what you claim.”
“Maybe I’m coming down with something. Have you thought of that?”
Yeah, I heard it. I was getting desperate now. I’d be talking about contracting Bubonic Plague in a moment.
Paige shook her head. “No. You’re not sick. You like someone. You like Ryan Jones.”
She’d hit the hot nail on the head. There was clearly no beating about the bush.
I turned to look at her. “No. Yes.” I let out an exasperated puff of air. “I don’t want to.”
A smile teased at the edges of her mouth. “But you do.”
I bit my lip and nodded. I’d never been a good liar. Now wasn’t the time to try to improve my lack of skill in that department.
Paige’s pretty face broke into a broad grin, and she placed her hand over her heart. “Oh, my gosh. You would be such a gorgeous couple! You with your dark hair and olive skin, and him with that blonde Northern European thing he’s got going on.”
I wagged my finger at her. “No, Paige. No matchmaking. It’s just a silly crush because he’s all cute and Thor-like.”
“Thor-like?”
“You know, the superhero guy with the hammer?”
“Ah, Chris Hemsworth.” She nodded, her eyes sparkling. “Yeah, I can totally see that.”
“And anyway, he’s not interested in me.”
Her eyebrows hit her hairline. “He’s not?”
I shook my head. “No. He’s all bitter and twisted about his ex. You know that. He made it really clear he’s not looking for anything when he was over at my place last—” Too late, I stopped myself from finishing my sentence.
The cat was well and truly out of the bag, prowling around the room.
Paige’s eyes widened. “He was at your house ?”
“Don’t make a big deal about it, ’kay? He was just in the neighborhood and dropped in to say hi. That’s all.”
“Ryan Jones just happened to be in your neighborhood, huh?” Her eyes danced.
“No, Paige. Don’t.”
“What?” She was acting all innocent now. “It’s just interesting to me, that’s all. I mean, he doesn’t live anywhere near you, and he went to the effort to drop by when you were home?”
Well, when she put it like that . . . No . I wasn’t going to make something out of nothing.
“He’s moved, actually. He lives on Dorchester Street.”
“Does he, now?” She tapped her finger to her chin. “Well, isn’t that convenient?”
“Bailey? Paige?” Sophie called from the café.
“I’ll take over here. You go out into the café, and Ryan.” Paige took a dirty plate from my hand and placed it in the dishwasher. “And we’ll talk about this later.”
I knew exactly what she was doing.
And part of me liked it, despite the fact she would be relentless with her matchmaking from now on.
“Go on. Sophie needs you.”
I let out a puff of air, shooting Paige a look.
This was going to be excruciating.
I walked through the kitchen and out into the café where a couple of women were perusing the cabinet food at the counter. Sophie was working at the coffee machine, and Ryan was standing beside the register. His eyes flashed to mine, and he shot me a smile before he looked away.
“How may I help you?” I concentrated on the women at the cabinet—and definitely not on Ryan.
“Which one of these cakes can you recommend?” a woman with bright purple hair asked. Her hair was possibly not altogether natural.
“I’ve heard they’re all good. This place is famous for its cakes, right?” The second woman raised her brows at me.
“We do enjoy our cake here, that’s true.” I smiled at them. “As for what I can recommend, it depends on what you like. The carrot cake with cream cheese frosting is super moist, and we like to think it’s a little healthy, due to the carrots.” I shot her a smile as I pointed at the next cake. “Then there’s the chocolate and raspberry cake. It’s gluten-free, if you’re into that. Most importantly though, it’s totally delicious.”
“That sounds good,” said Purple Hair.
“What’s that one?” the other woman said, pointing at another cake.
“That’s Cassata alla Siciliana ,” Ryan said to the women in slightly butchered Italian before I had the chance to respond. “It’s like an Italian cheesecake. Try it, you’ll love it.”
“Sold,” Purple Hair said to Ryan. “I’ll have a slice of that, please.”
“Me too,” her friend added.
I took their coffee order, they paid, and I told them I’d bring their food and drinks over to them once it was ready.
“Here you are, Ryan.” Sophie handed him his coffee. I noticed it was in a takeout cup.
My heart sank.
“I hope you didn’t mind me jumping in there,” he said to me.
“No, no. It’s fine. Thank you, in fact.”
“For what?”
Good question.
“Selling the cake, I guess?”
Ryan shrugged, smiling. “All I know is they taste great.”
“Thanks,” Sophie and I both said in unison.
I shot her a sideways look. Geez, it was like we were the Ryan Jones fangirl club over here.
“Well, I gotta go. Thanks for the coffee, Soph.”
“Any time,” she cooed.
He glanced at me, raising his chin. “See you ’round, Bailey.”
“See you ’round,” I echoed. I watched as he walked out of the café and onto the street, trying not to notice how cute he looked as he walked away.
I let out a sigh. I guess that was just another weird exchange in the Ryan-Bailey show.
“Tell me about your pact.” Sophie interrupted my reverie.
“My what?”
“You know, the thing where you and Paige and the other girls all agreed to date men or something?”
“Oh, the Last First Date pact.”
“That’s the one.”
“Well, it’s designed to do what it says on the can—you marry the next guy you go on a date with.”
“Talk about putting the pressure on!”
“Yeah. I guess.”
If you could find someone you wanted to date in the first place, that was. Or, more appropriately, if you could find someone who wasn’t still messed up over their ex and actually kissed you while standing on your doorstep instead of just looking like he wanted to.
But maybe I was being too specific.
“Can anyone join?” Sophie asked.
“I guess. I didn’t make up the rules. I think you’d need to talk to Cassie, or maybe Paige?” I focused my attention on rearranging the cabinet food.
Sophie nodded, a smile forming on her face. “I might do that. I think I know who I might choose, too.”
I snapped my head in her direction. She had a cloth in hand and had set about cleaning the coffee machine.
I watched her, thinking. Would she choose Ryan? She certainly seemed to get a little, I don’t know, “girly” when he was here. I pressed my lips together.
Hmm. A lot like me.
My eyes drifted out the window to the people walking by. I wondered if I’d ever know why Ryan visited me at home that day—and whether he was actually going to kiss me.
Or, much likelier, if it had all been a figment of my overactive imagination.