Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Hartford
I was exhausted after a week spent researching Merdon and Calmation.
To my surprise, I was actually looking forward to a break.
My goals for today were simple: learn everything I needed to know about dating in a single afternoon from an almost-stranger, and try to bake a cake that didn’t taste like it belonged on the surface of the road.
And, if possible, try to forget about work for a few hours.
Stella flung open the door to her apartment and held out her arms like I was a daughter coming home from the army. “Hartford—it’s so great to have you here. We’re going to bake up a storm!”
Stella’s positive energy seemed to saturate the air around her in sunshine.
I just hoped she didn’t mind me picking her brain about men and dating while we baked.
I’d considered cancelling on Jacob a thousand times.
But there were two good reasons why dating someone—anyone—would be a good idea.
First, it would keep my boss happy. But second, and maybe more importantly, it would keep my forcefield against Joshua intact.
My defenses had been like bad WiFi recently—patchy and at some points nonexistent.
After he gave me that massage, I’d avoided him for a few days while I tried to block out the old crush hammering at the door.
Dinner with Jacob would therefore serve a dual purpose.
And since I hadn’t dated since way before I started with Medicines Sans Frontiers—and even then, I hadn’t amassed a particularly impressive track record—I needed some help.
If I impressed Gerry with my array of outside interests and bubbling social life, I hoped he’d see I was serious about my career and completely dedicated to medicine. Counterintuitive? Yes. Possibly the key to securing a reference from the most famed pediatric specialist in the UK? Also yes.
“Hi.” I tried to look relaxed and happy as I looked over Stella’s shoulder to see Autumn and another girl sitting at the kitchen island. Asking dating questions in front of an audience would be daunting, but better that then making a complete fool of myself with Jacob.
Stella ushered me into the apartment, but before she got a chance to introduce me, the girl I didn’t recognize jumped from her bar stool, bounded over, and wrapped me in a hug.
“I’m sooo excited to meet you! I’m Hollie.” She stepped back. “Joshua!” she said inexplicably.
“Actually, it’s Hartford,” I replied, well and truly confused. I’d only been inside for thirty seconds and already I felt out of my depth.
“Yes, Joshua’s new . . . friend.” She grinned at me as if she and I were in on some kind of secret.
Stella guided me to one of the bar stools and I took a seat, slightly nervous about what I’d walked in on. It was only noon. Had they been on the breakfast wine?
“You’ll have to excuse us. Joshua’s never introduced us to a woman of his before, so we’re all a little giddy,” Stella said.
A woman of his? Had I slipped into some 1950s soap opera?
“It’s not like that between us. I’ve known him since forever. Our mums are best friends.” Private fantasies of mine aside, Joshua was as likely to see me as a romantic interest as he was to date a slice of toast with that awful marmalade he’d always loved as a kid.
“Hmmm,” Hollie said, narrowing her eyes.
“So you’ve not had sex with him?” Autumn asked.
I laughed. “No, definitely not. Not in real life, anyway.”
Stella’s eyes widened. “So in your pretend life . . . ?”
I sighed and glanced around the kitchen, wondering when the baking lessons were going to start.
When I turned back to the island, three sets of eyes stared at me.
Nothing for it than to tell the truth. “I was a fifteen-year-old girl, filled to the brim with hormones, when Joshua was a tall, tanned, impossibly good-looking eighteen-year-old. Of course I’ve had fantasies. ”
“We need mimosas,” Hollie announced. Stella jumped off her stool and began to pull out glasses.
“Is drinking and baking a good idea?” I asked.
“Of course,” Stella said, pulling out a carton of orange juice from the fridge.
“Tell us everything about eighteen-year-old Joshua. Did you ever kiss him?” Autumn asked.
Within a couple of minutes, Stella had poured four mimosas and pulled baking materials onto the counter.
I shook my head. “Never. I mean, he had his pick of girls. And when he was round at our house—which was all the time—if he noticed anyone, he noticed my sister, Thea.”
“Stop.” Autumn put up her hand. “Of course he noticed you. Look at you.”
Bloody Americans and their over-the-top positivity about everything.
“Quite. And think about how I looked with a monobrow and braces.”
“Awww. How adorable,” Hollie said. “This is even better than I thought. You blossomed into this beautiful butterfly and now Joshua has seen what was under his nose all along.”
These girls were crazy. Like, batshit. I needed to change the subject or they were going to start planning my wedding to Joshua. And as much as that sounded like a dream come true to my fifteen-year-old self, I was pretty sure we’d all end up in prison if that was the road we started on.
Stella might have more ability to read the room than I gave her credit for, because she promptly changed the subject.
“Some basic baking tips: start with all your ingredients at room temperature, including eggs. Put your oven on and grease your pans and tins first thing. Even before measuring any ingredients.”
From my bag, I pulled out the notepad and pen I’d brought and jotted down the two instructions before setting my pad down.
“Actually,” I said, hoping to steer the conversation into more realistic territory, “as well as baking, I was hoping you could help me out with a few tips and pointers on dating? Because—”
“We’d be delighted,” Stella said. “Anything we can do to help. Joshua is a great guy and it’s about time he found someone special rather than ricochet between Miss Tuesday Night and the model of the week.”
Miss Tuesday Night? Did I even want to know who that was?
I shouldn’t have come here. These women thought I was here to bond because they were all wives and girlfriends of the group of guys Joshua was friends with.
Hadn’t Joshua explained who I was? I was just going to have to talk really fast and get out my side of the story.
“I’m not Joshua’s girlfriend. Or soon-to-be girlfriend.
I’m just the daughter of his mum’s best friend.
I hadn’t seen him in over a decade before last week.
But I do have a date at the weekend and I haven’t got a clue what to wear or talk about or anything.
Any tips would be much appreciated.” I exhaled.
I got the feeling if you didn’t talk fast in this group, you didn’t get to say anything.
Hollie and Autumn exchanged a glance. “It could work,” Hollie said.
“Make him see what he’s got to lose,” Autumn replied. “We don’t want to play games, but sometimes men like Joshua need a little nudge.”
“That’s what I said to Beck,” Stella said.
Oh God. They weren’t getting it. “I’m not looking to nudge Joshua.
I just got back to England. The only things I own can fit into a backpack.
I just want to start work, impress my boss by having outside interests, and date someone to prove I’m not an antisocial workaholic.
And at some point, I need to find somewhere to live.
Joshua isn’t on my list of things to ‘do’. ”
“Here, measure out two hundred and twenty-five grams of this butter and put it in with that sugar I’ve measured out in the bowl already,” Stella said, then added casually, “So you’re not interested in Joshua?”
I hopped off my stool and got to work. “More like I’m not into masochism.”
Stella’s eyes grew wide. “Joshua is into kink?”
How did this conversation just keep getting worse? “No! Maybe? I don’t know. I meant that I’m not into pain. I’m not a teenage girl anymore. I know better than to pine after men like Joshua.”
“Good for you,” Autumn said. “But you’re baking cakes with him and hanging out together. You don’t think there are flirty vibes?”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to hesitate and give these girls a crumb of something that wasn’t there.
I tried to suppress the memory of his hands massaging my leg, his thumbs digging into the muscles of my calf.
If I so much as blushed in front of this crowd, I’d never hear the end of it.
Joshua had to flirt like he had to breathe—he was made that way.
Always had been. So if there were flirty vibes between us, it was nothing to do with me.
“And then I use the whisk to cream them together?”
Stella nodded and held the bowl for me, clearly understanding I needed all the help I could get.
But not even the loud whir of the electric whisk could stop these girls and their effort to matchmake.
“Well, doesn’t mean we can’t have hope,” Autumn said.
“I mean, you’re beautiful. He’s beautiful.
You’ve known each other since you were kids—it’s like a fairy tale waiting to happen.
But in the meantime, tell us about the guy you have a date with. ”
There wasn’t much to tell. I didn’t know anything about Jacob other than we both worked in pediatrics and he was gorgeous. “We’re meeting on Saturday at eight.”
“This is perfect,” Stella said. “Much less pressure because you’re colleagues, so if there’s no spark, the dinner is just an opportunity to get to know each other better.”
That was true. We could always talk about our medical backgrounds and where we went to university. “Any advice? Dos and don’ts?”
“Just be yourself.” She slid me a carton of eggs. “Add one egg then whisk. Repeat four times. Never add all the eggs at once, or the batter will get uneven and gummy.”
I followed her instructions. Soon, the batter took on the rich, creamy texture I recognized from my failed attempt with Joshua. So far, then, it seemed we hadn’t come to the part of this process I’d screwed up so royally. “Is it okay to focus on work as a topic of conversation?”
“Of course,” Hollie said. “What do you talk about when you’re with Joshua?”
Luckily, the baking overtook the need to answer Hollie’s question.
“Now measure out two hundred and twenty-five grams of self-raising flour and sieve it into the bowl,” Stella said. “Self-raising has the baking powder mixed in already, but sometimes you need extra. Always check the recipe.”
“Jacob’s coming right from the hospital. He’s not picking me up, so I’m assuming I wear something casual?” I paused to make the note about flour and then did as instructed.
“Yes,” Autumn said. “Some nice jeans will be fine.”
What counted as nice jeans? I had no clue.
Under Stella’s guidance, I added the vanilla and lemon zest, poured the mixture into the pre-greased pans, and put them in the oven. It looked just the same as when Joshua and I had made it, but hopefully this time, the cake would rise.
“Great job.” Stella raised her glass. “Here’s to cake, dating, and waking Joshua up to what he’s missing.”
I raised my glass despite the ludicrous toast. This afternoon might produce a good cake, but it had been scant on dating advice.
Their obsession with Joshua was a little weird.
Their obsession with Joshua and me was borderline uncomfortable.
Couldn’t they see that Joshua and I weren’t couple material?
For a start, we couldn’t be more opposite if we tried.
He always looked like he’d just stepped out of a photo shoot and I always looked like I’d just stepped out of a hospital.
He could charm the birds from the trees, while I needed help to get through a drinks party with a room full of my professional peers.
He lived in a hotel in Mayfair, while I was googling Rightmove for studios in Borehamwood.
We weren’t compatible. Not in any way. The only thing we had in common was neither of us could bake, and given how the sponges were rising in the oven, even that common ground wouldn’t last long.