Chapter 21
‘One cappuccino and a skinny latte, please,’ I said in my friendliest, most cheerful voice as I leaned on the counter of The Coffee Corner on Saturday morning.
Stéphan Marcell was serving and he was lush.
His online photo really didn’t do him justice.
Deftly handling the espresso machine, he was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome.
His online profile said he was half-Portuguese, half-French.
Stunning. Even more gorgeous than Stephen Lewis the plasterer.
And this time there were no fluorescent green prams in sight.
‘Coffees.’ He slammed the paper cups on the counter. ‘Anything else?’
I flinched. ‘Er, yes, two croissants please.’ Hmm. Not so friendly. Nice accent, though.
‘Heated?’
‘Yes, please, if it’s not too much trouble.’
Without acknowledging me, he opened a small oven behind him. ‘Christ!’ he muttered before shouting, ‘Sammie! Here! Now!’
Clare and I exchanged concerned looks.
A young girl in her late teens burst through a door marked ‘staff only’ looking terrified.
‘What did I ask you to do last night?’
‘Clean the oven?’ She cast a sideways glance at us.
‘Does this fucking look clean to you?’ He shoved her towards the oven.
‘I cleaned it last night. I promise.’
‘Someone broke in last night and covered it in crap, did they?’
‘I don’t know how it got like that. I’m sorry. I’ll do it again now.’ Sammie headed for the staff only door again.
‘Where are you going now?’ Stéphan shouted.
‘To get a cloth.’
‘What’s this then? An arma-fucking-dillo?’ He picked up a cloth and threw it at her.
‘I didn’t see it there.’
‘That’s your problem, Sammie. You don’t see anything. Like these customers you’ve kept waiting who I’ve had to serve. Didn’t see them, did you?’
The poor girl looked close to tears. ‘It’s okay,’ I piped up. ‘We’ll just take these.’ I dropped some coins on the counter and grabbed our drinks.
‘I’m guessing you won’t be messaging him?’ Clare said as we made a swift getaway.
‘Absolutely gorgeous. Absolutely amazing accent. Absolute git. Two down, five to go.’
Having Clare in the shop for the day was an eye-opener.
Elise had been friendly and helpful with customers on opening day, but Clare was something different.
She was a genuine asset to sales and I was fascinated to see that side of her in action.
She could charm anyone and everyone, swiftly adapting her behaviour according to the age and gender of the customer.
She managed to secure three wedding bookings, convince five or six customers to spend way more on bouquets than they’d planned, sell an additional product like a card or gift to about three quarters of the customers who’d only come in for flowers, and complete on several gift transactions where the customer was clearly browsing and would likely have left empty-handed without her intervention.
I printed off the impressive daily sales report after locking up and whistled. ‘Can you work here every day?’
She laughed. ‘You couldn’t afford me, but I’ll train you if you want.’
‘I could never be as brazen as you. Besides, I think it’s a lot to do with your accent and your personality. It wouldn’t work with me.’
‘It would. Yes, I play on the cheeky blonde Irish thing, but it’s about reading people and saying the right things, all of which can be taught. With a few lessons from me, you could be a pro by Easter.’
‘Would you really do that for me?’
‘Of course. I know you’re going to be a huge success anyway, but if I can help in any way, I’m more than happy to.’
‘You’re on.’
‘So what do you want to do tonight?’ I said as we walked back to Seashell Cottage. ‘Takeaway and film?’
‘No way. We’re going on a double date.’
‘What?’
‘You heard me. As you said this morning, it’s two down, five to go. So let’s contact one of the five when we get home and see if he has a nice single mate he can drag out tonight.’
‘I thought you said I should relax and enjoy the business more.’
Clare laughed. ‘You should. But it doesn’t mean you have to call off the search for Steven. Just don’t get so obsessed with it that you ignore the amazing things you’re doing in your day job and don’t get so stressed about the disappointments along the way because they’re inevitable.’
Who was I to argue with such logic? A double date with a Steven it was.
‘I can’t believe you’ve talked me into this.’ I pulled my coat tightly around me as we walked from Seashell Cottage into town for the second night in a row. I reached into my pockets for my gloves and gratefully thrust my icy fingers into the soft fleece.
‘Stop moaning. We’ll have a great time. And stop being such a wimp; it’s not that cold.’ As Clare spoke, her breath hung in the air. ‘Okay. I lied. It’s bloody freezing. But I’m not lying when I say we’ll have a great craic.’
We were meeting Stevie Barnes from Little Sandby, a cute village about ten minutes north of Whitsborough Bay. According to his profile, he’d recently turned thirty-three. He’d married and divorced young, had one dog and no kids.
‘I’m nervous,’ I admitted.
‘There’s no need to be, especially when I’m here to hold your hand. I reckon you two will get on brilliantly. Although isn’t he the IT geek?’
I nodded. ‘Something to do with IT and publishing but he said on his profile that he won’t put off prospective dates by explaining it because it’s not that interesting.’
‘Just as long as he doesn’t try to explain it tonight or we may have to walk out. IT geeks bore the hell out of me.’
‘Most people bore the hell out of you.’
‘True. Which makes it odd that I’ve put up with you for so many years.’
‘Rude!’ I playfully whacked her with my bag.
The plan was to meet Stevie and his best mate Rob in Minty’s at eight. Stevie had messaged to say that Rob had recently moved back to the area after splitting up with his long-term partner. He was happy to make up the numbers providing Clare knew he wasn’t looking for a relationship.
As soon as we walked into Minty’s, I recognised Stevie from his photo online.
He wasn’t gorgeous – just very pleasant-looking in a boy-next-door kind of way.
He had short, sandy coloured hair, dark brown eyes, dimples when he smiled – something he did the second we walked through the door – and was slightly overweight, which suited him.
I just hoped that, unlike Stéphan, he would have a pleasant personality to match his pleasant looks.
‘Sarah?’ He smiled warmly again and confidently placed a gentle kiss on my cheek.
‘I’m Stevie. It’s great to meet you. And you must be Clare?
’ He kissed Clare too then introduced his friend.
Rob was also very nice-looking rather than gorgeous, but the opposite of Stevie in colouring and build – a mop of dark wavy hair, blue eyes and a very toned-looking physique. He looked a lot like my brother.
‘Thanks for meeting us at such short notice,’ I said.
‘It’s our pleasure. Can I get you both a drink?’
‘He’s lovely,’ whispered Clare when the boys headed for the bar. ‘Nice one.’
‘First impressions are very positive. And his mate seems pretty nice too.’
‘Absolutely,’ Clare said. ‘Probably not Britain’s Next Top Model but you’ll hear no complaints from me. And if he needs some help getting over his relationship breakdown with no commitments, I’m the woman for him.’
‘You’re terrible. You should come with a warning.’
It was a lovely evening full of warmth and laughter. Before we left shortly after midnight, I arranged to meet Stevie again on Monday night for the cinema and drinks. He kissed me then Clare on the cheek again before heading in the opposite direction with Rob.
‘Disappointed?’ Clare linked my arm as we headed towards the Old Town.
‘With Stevie? No. He was great fun.’
‘I mean with not getting a goodnight kiss.’
I pondered for a moment. ‘Actually, no. It wouldn’t have seemed right. We were there as a group and it was good that way. What did you think of Rob?’
‘Seemed like a nice guy.’
‘Did you think he looked like my brother?’
‘I guess he did a bit,’ Clare said. ‘Did Saint Ben tell you we went for a curry when I was in Leeds last month?’ Clare had christened him ‘Saint Ben’ thanks to his charity job and all the volunteering work he did. In return, he always called her ‘Irish’ – highly original.
‘It’s becoming a bit of a regular thing, you and our Ben.’
‘Oh behave, you. Saint Ben has a girlfriend and, even if he didn’t, there’d be nothing going on.
Your brother’s always been a good laugh and it’s nice to eat in company when you’re on the road as much as me.
I’m spending more and more time with my Leeds-based client and I’d rather meet up with your brother than stare at a hotel TV all night. That’s all.’
‘Sorry. I was only joking.’
‘Food.’ Clare pulled me into a packed kebab shop. ‘Enough about Ben and back to tonight. Did you fancy Stevie?’
‘Not sure. He’s attractive, I enjoyed his company and we’ve got loads in common, but…
I don’t know… I think there was something missing.
’ It didn’t feel like it felt with Nick.
But he had the right name, which was incredibly frustrating.
‘Maybe he’s not the Steven. Or maybe he is and I’ll fall for him slowly. Why do you ask?’
‘There was something about the two of you together that I couldn’t quite pinpoint and it just hit me what it was when you said Rob looked like Saint Ben. Watching you and Stevie was like seeing you and Ben together. You had that same easy banter.’
I mulled her observation over. ‘You could be right. I guess we’ll see how it goes on Monday night. Maybe it will be different when it’s just the two of us.’
‘Maybe,’ Clare said. ‘Now, are you going to order anything cos I could kill a chicken kebab right now? I’ve got the munchies real bad.’