Chapter 15
Chapter 15
“More tea?” Erin asks as she holds the pretty china teapot in her hands.
“More tea would be simply wonderful,” I reply with a bright smile.
We’re back at High Tea. I know, I know. Twice in a matter of a mere handful of days does seem a little indulgent. What can I say? There are a lot of things going on for me right now. Alex has me twisted up into an emotional pretzel, I’ve been working myself ragged on getting this gallery ready for its opening in just over a week, and I’ve got to visualize Seth dressed as Mr. Darcy just so I can kiss him.
All in all, it’s amazing I can even function. Bring on the sugary treats.
Of course, it helps that Larissa is out of town for the day, and if you catch Erin in the right mood, she’s easily persuaded to skip out on her job for a couple of hours. She said she’s always in dire need of some estrogen to balance out all the testosterone she’s got to deal with in her job at Auckland City Club. Really, my heart bleeds for the poor girl being surrounded by hot rugby players. Some people have it so tough, right?
So here we both sit—a three-tiered cake stand on our table, crammed full of delicious treats—as we chat, listen to the relaxing music, and sip our tea. It’s perfect girl time. Well, it would be if it weren’t for the current state of my life polluting my brain.
I hold my teacup up for Erin. “Don’t you love the way these Cozy Cottage High Tea cups are so elegant and cute? This is no regular beverage. They make you feel like you’re sipping something really special.”
She pours tea into my china cup with a little giggle.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. It’s just you’re in a bit of a manic mood today.”
My mind darts instantly to Alex. If I’m manic, it’s only because I have so many confusing feelings about him. I want to murder him slowly, but I want to kiss him again, too. Seriously, this situation is not good for my mental wellbeing.
I delay my response by taking a sip my hot tea. I place my cup on its matching saucer and calmly state, “I’m not manic. I’m perfectly fine, as you can see.”
Erin gives me a knowing look. “Oh, you so are manic, girl. And I know exactly why.”
I shake my head and implore her with my gaze. “Don’t say it. Don’t say it.”
“Look, you should at least talk about it, babe.” Her eyes light up when she leans in closer to me. “Has he kissed you again?”
I lift my eyebrows and feign innocence. “Who?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about. We’re at High Tea again, in the middle of the workweek no less, and you’ve skipped all the savory treats and gone straight for the sugar. I know you too well, Darcy Evans.”
I let out a puff of air. “There’s been no more kissing.”
Erin’s face drops. “I was sure there had been.”
I slowly shake my head from side to side. “I’ve been deploying my four-point manifesto of boundaries, remember? Any time he’s smoldered at me or stood too close, I’ve maneuvered myself away.”
“It’s working?” Erin asks, surprised.
“Either that or he got the message.”
“Maybe his attraction to you was a fleeting thing for him. Maybe he felt something for you in the moment, and now that moment has gone. Poof, in a cloud of smoke.”
“That would be ideal.” My heart sinks, and my shoulders slump as I think of Alex not having any feelings for me. Even though I know it would be so much simpler, I feel a little empty inside.
“Say it like you mean it, babe,” Erin replies.
“I do mean it. Kissing Alex was a momentary lapse of reason on my part. And anyway, I’m dating someone else, and he’s just the kind of guy we set up the No More Bad Dates Pact to find.”
“Exactly. Do you know how few genuinely nice guys there are out there?”
“Sadly, I do.”
“I found you your great guy, now I need to find one for myself.”
“Maybe Seth has a brother?” I offer.
She laughs. “Maybe. Now, have you tried this?” She points at one of the little pastries on the cake stand.
“Oh, you’ve got to,” Sophie says, materializing at our table. “They’re new. Bailey came up with the recipe, and I swear they’ll add ten pounds a week to my thighs, they’re that good.”
I pick one of the little slices up in my fingers and pop it into my mouth. “Mmm.”
“See?”
“ So good,” I murmur as I relish the flavor.
“They should be. They’re made of sugar and butter, with added sugar butter. Topped with more sugar and butter,” Sophie says.
“You can’t go wrong with sugar butter,” Erin says. “Can you take a quick break to chat, Soph?”
Sophie looks around the room. “Sure. The customers look happy enough, and I need to know how your boundaries thing is working with Alex.”
I’d told Sophie about what had happened with Alex when she dropped ’round Erin’s and my apartment on Sunday. She agreed the four-point manifesto was the right choice, and she’s been checking in with me through messages ever since.
“Is he working today?” Erin asks as her eyes flash to mine.
“Oh, please don’t say he is,” I moan. Did I just say that out loud? The look on both Erin’s and Sophie’s faces tells me I did. “What I meant to say is I see him all the time right now since we’re working together on his exhibition, that’s all.”
“There hasn’t been any more kissing,” Erin tells Sophie.
“Oh.” She looks at Erin before adding, “That’s a good thing, right?”
“Oh, yes. Definitely,” I confirm. “I hate him, remember? People don’t kiss people they hate. Or at least they shouldn’t. It’s bad for their health.”
Erin and Sophie share a look.
Sophie pulls a chair over from an empty table beside us and sits down. “I’ve got to tell you Alex is working for a few hours, Darce. He just arrived.” She jerks her head in the direction of the front door, where I spot the man himself.
My chest tightens. He’s pushing open the door and taking his long-legged stride across the floor. He turns his head toward us, and our eyes lock for a moment before I give a curt nod and turn away.
Why did I choose High Tea to bury my concerns in sugar?
Sophie asks, “How’s it going working with him?”
“Fine,” I reply as I take another morsel from the cake stand and pop it in my mouth.
“Do you know how to put an exhibition together?” Erin asks.
I give a shrug. “Alex seems to think he knows what he’s doing.”
“He does. He’s exhibited before. Lots, I think,” Sophie says.
I give a tight-lipped smile. “Good to know.”
I notice Sophie and Erin share another look, and I furrow my brow as I look between them. “What is going on with you two?”
Sophie places her elbows on the table. “Tell me something, Darce. How long have we been friends?”
That’s an odd question. “Sophie, you know how long.”
“Humor me,” she replies.
“Ever since Mrs. Matthews put as all in detention on the same day when we were fourteen.”
“It was like we were our own little Breakfast Club . Only, no Judd Nelson wearing a single, black fingerless glove,” Erin adds.
“Yeah. What was up with the single glove? And that weird foot bandana?” Sophie asks with a laugh.
“It was an ’80s thing.” I shrug because everyone knows they made some pretty suspicious fashion choices back then. Frizzy hair, leg warmers, and oversized shoulder pads, anyone?
“So,” Sophie says, clearly wanting to get back to her point, “that means we’ve been BFFs for over eleven years now.”
“You know your math. Mrs. Matthews would be proud,” I reply.
“Eleven years is a long time. A very long time,” Erin says with a philosophical nod. “I bet you could know someone inside and out in that amount of time. Right, Darce?”
I shoot Sophie a sideways glance. “True.”
“And everyone knows BFFs tell each other everything. E-ver-y-thing .” Erin carefully sounds out each syllable of the word.
Sophie nods as she stares at me. “Yup. Everything.”
I narrow my eyes at my friends. It’s like they’ve rehearsed this conversation, decided who’s going to say what, and are now delivering it to me. It’s beyond strange. “You girls are acting weird. What’s this all about?”
“Nothing specific . Not unless there’s something you think you might have missed telling us about yourself? Something that might bear some relevance to certain people now?” Erin says in a suspiciously leading way, and they both look at me intently, waiting for my response.
“Like, say, back in high school, to choose a timeframe. Totally randomly, of course.” This from Sophie.
“I have no clue what you two are going on about,” I say in utter exasperation. “Can’t a girl enjoy her sneaky high tea in peace when she should be at work?”
“Of course you can, Darcy,” Erin says kindly.
Sophie has another stab at whatever the heck they’re trying to get at. “Is there any piece of information we should know about . . . you?” she asks.
They both continue to stare at me in expectation. And then it dawns on me. They have rehearsed this conversation, they have decided who’s going to say what, and they are now delivering it to me.
I place my cup on its saucer once more, cross my arms, and lean back in my seat. “Okay, you two. What’s this little show of yours really all about?”
“Nothing specific ,” Erin repeats with that meaningful look on her face.
This is getting silly now.
“Erin Andrews, you have always been the worst liar on the face of the planet. Will one of you please spill the beans?” I glare at them both.
I can be quite direct and bossy when I want to be. Although I don’t pull it out very often, I impress even myself at times. It can really come in handy with Larissa, like when she thought we could increase our sense of spiritual calm by dying our hair blue to match our blue office. I had to explain to her that blue hair is for pop divas and the elderly, and since we are neither of those, we should all stick with our current natural looks. (Well, some are more natural than others, but that’s all I’ll say on the subject of Larissa’s completely “born with it” blonde locks.)
Sophie lays her hands on the table, palms down. “All right. We were hoping you would volunteer the info, but since you’re clearly playing dumb, I guess we’ll cut to the chase.”
“What happened with Alex back in high school?” Erin asks.
My heart begins to race as a sudden coldness worms its way around inside my core. “Nothing in particular,” I respond with faux confidence.
“Nothing in particular?” Sophie questions. “Really? Because we think something in particular did happen. Something that you’re not telling us about. And it’s clearly still an issue for you now.”
I wave my hand in the air. “High school was a long time ago. Move on, girls. I have.”
“Aha!” Erin points a finger at me. “You’ve moved on from the thing that happened between you and Alex.” Her eyes are bright because she thinks she’s caught me out. Which she kind of has.
The truth is, Erin’s totally right. Something did happen between Alex and me in high school, and it’s something I’d really rather forget about.
I throw my eyes skyward. “There’s nothing to tell. Alex is . . . fine.”
“Wow. What every guy wants to be called: ‘fine,’” a distinctly male voice says at my side.
I don’t need to turn around to know exactly who it is. Besides the fact about ninety percent of High Tea’s clientele is female, it’s just my luck to encounter him once again. Because Alex is everywhere in my life right now, and it’s beginning to drive me slowly (and probably deliberately on his part) insane.
With my lips drawn in a line, I tilt my head up to look at him. “Alex.”
He’s smirking at me with a knowing look on his face.
Knowing? What does he know? Nothing, that’s what. Jerk .
“Darcy,” he replies in that irritating tone of his.
He’s everywhere. Everywhere . With that smug smirk on his face, I half expect him to jump out of the pantry when I get my morning granola. He might even try to kiss me up against my own kitchen counter, too.
“Thanks for coming in on short notice, Alex,” Sophie says to him.
“No worries,” he replies. “I’ll handle things if you want to stay here for a while. You know, to finish talking about whatever it was you were talking about.” He shoots me another knowing smile.
Ooh, I bet he’s loving this. He knows full well we were talking about him. This is just the type of arrogant, self-absorbed thing that’s so typical of him. But then, I guess he did hear me mention his name, so maybe I’m overreacting? I look up again at his smugly smirking face gazing back at me. Nope, definitely not overreacting.
“That’d be great, thanks, Alex. You’re awesome,” Sophie replies.
“I’m not sure I’d go that far,” he replies.
Neither am I.
“I’ll see you at the gallery, Darcy,” he says to me, my cheeks instantly heating up. “Four o’clock still suit you? It’s when I finish up here.”
With my friends’ gazes fixed firmly on my face, I reply, “Sure. I’m looking forward to it.”
He shoots us all his dazzling (read: cocky) smile before he turns and leaves.
“Darcy Evans, I do believe you are blushing,” Erin says, which of course only makes me blush so much more. Because that’s what happens when people are told they’re blushing. Your cheeks turn positively nuclear. So not helpful.
I glance at Alex’s retreating figure and turn back to my friends. “For the record, I’m only blushing because he busted us talking about him.”
“Sure,” Sophie replies as Erin says, “Totally.” Neither of them looks the least bit convinced.
“So?” Sophie leads. “Tell us about high school.”
They’re not giving up on this. I twist my mouth. “It’s not a big deal. It was nothing, really.”
“It was clearly something or you wouldn’t hate him as much as you do now,” Sophie observes.
“He’s not my kind of person, that’s all,” I reply.
Erin’s eyes light up. “Talented, fun, smart, and handsome guys aren’t your type, huh?”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay. I give in. You’re obviously going to pester me about this.”
“Because we’re your BFFs and we care about you,” Erin says.
I roll my eyes. “Sure. Something like that.”
I can tell both of my friends are working hard at restraining their excitement as they lean in closer to me. I steel myself, ready to tell the story I’ve never told.