Chapter 4
Chapter 4
I push open the heavy back door to the Cozy Cottage Café and step inside. Despite the fact it’s still early, the kitchen is a hive of activity, the most delectable smells wafting through the air, making my empty belly grumble. My bosses, Bailey and Paige, are the best bakers in the city, possibly even the whole country, and I’m not bragging. The Cozy Cottage is known for its cakes, and everyone seems to have a favorite. Me? I like them all, and right now I could eat an entire cake all to myself. Seriously, there should be a public service announcement about this place: if you work here, your waistline will be in perilous danger.
“Morning,” I say as I hang my jacket up and don one of the Cozy Cottage Café’s trademark frilled, pink aprons with white polka dots.
Paige looks up at me from the cake she’s decorating—carrot cake, by the looks of the thick, creamy frosting—and grins. “Sophie! Great to see you. Good weekend?”
Before I can stop it, my mind instantly darts to the “Sophie’s life intervention” I got to experience, courtesy of my brother and sisters yesterday. Despite my best efforts to avoid even thinking about an unpaid internship at one of my siblings’ companies—not to mention moving back home, the idea of which makes me shudder like jelly in a violent earthquake—I know I’m going nowhere with my life.
I give her a breezy smile. “I went to karaoke with the girls on Saturday night.”
“Fun! What did you sing?”
“‘Stronger.’ You know, the Kelly Clarkson song?”
“Oh.” She stands up and looks at me, assessing me with her big eyes. “An angry song, huh?”
“It’s not an angry song. It’s a song about overcoming adversity and coming out the other end better. Stronger.”
“Okay. Sure.” She nods at me with a weird-looking smile on her face, like she just swallowed an oyster. I hate oysters.
“I’m not angry anymore, if that’s what you’re thinking. I am over it. Over. It. Trust me.”
“I wasn’t thinking anything,” Paige replies with a shrug. “Just as long as you had fun. That’s a great song, for whatever reason you chose it.”
It’s a cryptic response, one that has me trying to work out whether she agreed with me or not. I’m still puzzled when Bailey comes bustling into the kitchen with an empty tray. “That cake ready for slicing?” she asks Paige. “Oh, hi there, Sophie. Good weekend?”
“Sophie sang ‘Stronger’ at karaoke,” Paige announces, her face impassive.
“‘Stronger?’” Bailey’s eyebrows rise to meet her hairline.
“Kelly Clarkson,” Paige adds.
My two bosses share a look before Bailey turns to me and says “Oh, Sophie” in a tone that inexplicably makes me want to cry. Which is crazy because I’m so over what Andrew did to me. I know it was a jerk move to dump me in the church, and I know I’m worth ten of him (Dad says fifty, although I’m choosing to be a little less gung-ho about it all). But . . . there’s always a “but,” and that’s what bothers me.
And my sweet, empathetic, almost freaking psychic bosses know it.
“Look. I’m fine,” I say with a shrug to show them both just how incredibly fine I am about it all. Incredibly, totally, and utterly fine. “I am. Honestly. I’m good now. It’s all in the past. Move on dot com, that’s where I’m at. #OverIt.”
There’s an outside chance I’m laying it on a little too thick here.
Bailey scrunches up her nose. “Are you sure? Because it’s totally fine if you’re not.”
“One hundred percent. In fact, I took a leaf out of your book on Saturday night. Out of both your books.”
“You baked?” Bailey asks with a twinkle in her eye.
“I’ve told you before: my role in life outside of being your favorite barista is to eat the cakes, not bake them,” I say with a smile. “My friends and I agreed to a pact. A little like the one you were all in on a couple years back.”
Paige’s jaw drops open, and her hand flies to her chest. “The One Last First Date Pact? You want to find The One?”
“Kind of. I mean, sure, I’d like to find The One someday. But for now, we all agreed we’d like to just date good guys, avoid the jerks. No more Andrew Fosters, I guess.”
“That’s almost as good as One Last First Date Pact, don’t you think, Bailey?”
She laughs. “Sophie, you so deserve to date the good ones. You’ve had some bad luck in the men department.”
I square my shoulders, bolstered by her words. “I do. You’re right. Us women often accept less than good enough. I’m guilty of it, and so are my friends. I mean, Darcy dated a guy last year who she didn’t even like! So now, we’re making a stand: no more bad dates.”
“Is that what you’re calling your pact?” Bailey asks.
I nod, adding, “No jerks need apply.”
Paige claps her hands together. “The No More Bad Dates Pact. So cute!”
“I know, right? Starting from now, we’re not accepting anything less than the good guys.” I stand tall. This feels good. No, scratch that: this feels great. So what if my family thinks I’m stuck in a dead-end job, in need of a life makeover? At least I’m in control of one thing in my life. And I have a feeling this pact is going to work for Darcy, Erin, and me, just the way the One Last First Date Pact did for them.
“Good for you. How are you doing it?” Paige asks. “Are you vetting them first? Most of us did that, it was a really great idea. No wolves in sheep’s clothing.”
“We’re definitely vetting them, are you kidding me? It’s Darcy, Erin, and me,” I reply. “Oh, and Jason, my roommate, too.”
“The really cute one you tried to set Bailey up with ages ago?” Paige asks.
It’s true. Back before Bailey and Ryan fell in love, I thought she and Jason might make a good match. The fact I had a crush on Ryan at the time had nothing to do with it. Honestly.
“What you mean is he’s the one who looks a little like your husband, right?” I reply with a laugh.
Paige is so transparent. She fell hard for Josh a couple or more years back, and their wedding was whimsical and romantic, just like Bailey’s.
And, most importantly, no one dumped me during her wedding service, which is now the low bar I’ve begun to judge weddings by. Sad, right? So, so sad.
“Yeah, okay. The one who looks like Josh,” Paige concedes. “I think it’s great that you’re getting a guy’s perspective on this whole pact thing. We never had that.”
“That’s what Jason said.”
“It’ll be fun to vet his potential dates.”
I shake my head. “Oh, no. He’s not in on the pact in that way. He’s just helping out, that’s all.”
Paige raises her eyebrows as she studies my face. “Interesting.”
I shift, uncomfortable. “How’s that interesting? He’s my roomie so he’s got a vested interest in me not dating any more jerks.”
She shrugs. “I guess. Do you have anyone in mind for the first date?”
“Not yet.” Hope bubbles up inside me, and I can’t help but smile. “But I’m hoping it won’t take long.”
Paige looks at her watch. “Do you think you can delay looking for this good guy of yours? I need the coffee machine prepped before the early morning coffee and muffin brigade beats down our door in only about ten minutes’ time.”
“Of course!” I say, giddy with my new-found confidence. “I’m on it.”
The café is busier than usual, even for a Monday, and we’re kept working hard making coffee, toasting bagels, and serving up muffins right through to the coffee and cake crew, who begin to turn up right around ten.
To my surprise, Jason is one of them, accompanied by a group of people I’ve not met before. One of them is a very pretty blonde girl with a high ponytail and the kind of ski jump nose I always wanted as a kid.
Yeah, okay, I still do.
He reaches across the counter and taps me on the shoulder, almost making me drop the jug of hot milk I’m busy frothing.
“Are you the famous Cozy Cottage barista I’ve heard all about through the Irish mafia network?”
I laugh. “Jas. What are you doing here?”
“I had a hankering for a coffee and some cake. You sell that here, right?”
I shake my head at him. “You’re a comedian, you know that?” I return my attention to the milk, which is point blank refusing to froth. Milk is temperamental. It’s one of the life lessons I’ve gained as a barista. If you don’t treat it right, it will let you down. And with the number of lattes and cappuccinos and flat whites I’ve got on my list right now, the last thing I need is moody milk.
“Hi, Bailey,” I hear Jason say.
“Oh. Hi, there. Jason, right?” she replies.
I pull back far enough so I can observe their interaction. For some reason, Jason never fails to rattle Bailey, and she usually reacts by running the other way.
“What can I get you?” she asks him.
“I’ve heard you’ve got the best barista in town at this café, so I’m gonna need a whole load of coffees.” He lists the group’s coffee order out for Bailey, adding a slice of the various cakes on offer for all his friends.
Then he and his friends take some seats by the window, Ski Jump Nose gazing at Jason like he’s a piece of one of Bailey’s cakes himself.
I roll my eyes. Typical. Maybe it’s the doctor thing, or maybe it’s because he looks like he could be a Hollywood actor, but Jason always gets the pretty girls. The confident girls I look at and know I’ll never be like. They’re too put together, too focused, too everything. And, as was established with extreme precision at the Mandatory McCarthy Meal, I am the opposite of all that: a mess, completely un focused, and not a whole lot more.
“Here you are,” Bailey says as she tacks a fresh list of coffees to the machine. “That’ll keep you busy for a while.”
I scan the list. “Sure will.”
Paige walks out of the kitchen and slips a fresh cake into the cabinet next to me. “Hey, I might have a guy in mind for you,” she says, her face beaming.
“You do?” I say in surprise.
“That was fast, even for you, Paige.” This from Bailey.
“What’s the point in waiting?” she says with a shrug. “His name is Oliver Price. He’s a good guy. We used to work together at A.G.D., back before I saw the light and left the corporate world for the café.”
I press the button to grind some fresh coffee beans. “Look, I appreciate the offer, really I do. But I’m not sure I should have my boss setting me up on a date. Boundaries, and all that.”
“Boundaries schmoundaries,” Paige says with a flick of her wrist. “You said you were serious about this pact, and I’ve helped my friends find their perfect matches, as well as had some serious luck in the love department myself. I guess you could say I’ve got pedigree.”
“Pedigree?” Bailey questions with a chuckle.
“Yes, pedigree,” Paige insists. “Although the way you said it you make me sound like a prize dog.”
“You are not a prize dog, Paige,” Bailey says. “Just a hopeless romantic.”
“I am a hopeless romantic, it’s true. I can’t help myself.”
Paige and her husband Josh are so loved-up, they’ve got to be the cutest couple I’ve ever seen. It’s enough to make me want to find love myself—or vomit. The jury’s still out on that one right now.
I load up the coffee arm and slot it into place. “I’m not sure, Paige. Setups never work out.”
“Sure they do,” Paige replies.
“Like for whom?” Bailey asks. “Name me one couple who got set up and fell in love.”
“Me and Josh.” Paige shoots us a triumphant grin.
“That was different. You knew him already when Marissa and I set you up with him. I mean a blind date setup.”
Paige twists her lips as she thinks. “Okay, you got me. Maybe Sophie and Oliver could be the first couple who met on a blind date and makes it?”
“Well, if I were single and looking for non-jerk guys to date, I’d ask that guy out.” Bailey gestures at a man sitting on his own at one of the tables.
“Oh, yeah. He’s cute in a Clark Kent kind of way,” Paige agrees. “Right down to those glasses of his.”
“Stop it! You’ll have us picturing him ripping them off as he transforms into Superman.” Bailey waggles her eyebrows at me, and I roll my eyes.
“Bailey, you’re already married to a superhero.” I pour some fresh milk into a jug.
Bailey shakes her head. “Ryan might be the best husband I could ever imagine, but he’s no superhero.”
“That’s right. He only looks like Thor.” Paige smiles as she nudges me.
“Anyway, focusing here, ladies,” Bailey says. I assume she’s telling us to get to work, so I’m surprised when she goes on to say, “That Clark Kent lookalike comes in here all the time. He’s always alone and always orders the same thing. I think he’s lonely and looking for love.”
I laugh. “Isn’t that a bit of a leap?”
Bailey shrugs. “Maybe. But wouldn’t it be fun finding out?”
“Sophie’s not looking for love, remember? Are you, Sophie?” Paige has a gleam in her eye.
They both look at me with interest. I shrug. “If it happens, sure. But mostly I just want to date non-jerks.”
“See?” Paige’s eyes are dancing. “Forget Clark Kent. Go on a date with Oliver. He’s really cute, he’s single, which I know because I just checked his social media in between frosting cakes, and he’s all about photos of him with the guys right now. Not a girl in sight. And, most importantly, he’s a non-jerk, I promise.”
A peal of laughter floats across the café. I look over at Jason and see Ski Jump Nose’s hand on his arm as she laughs at whatever he’s saying.
I’m not sure what it is—the fact my roommate has yet another girlfriend or maybe the way in which she’s obviously so delighted to be with him—but somehow it kicks me into life. With my nonexistent career, the pressure my siblings put me under to pull my life together, and the fact that even I would have to admit I’m treading water, I need this.
“You know what? I made this pact with my girlfriends because I want to date the right kinds of guys. So, why not? I’d love to meet this Oliver guy.”
Paige hops up and down on the spot and makes a noise that sounds like a velociraptor’s squeal. “Oh, Sophie. You are not going to regret this.”
I so hope she’s right.