Chapter 11
Chapter 11
On Saturday morning, I arrive at the Cozy Cottage Café bright and early, ready to sink my teeth into my new job. High Tea keeps different hours from its namesake café next door, open Wednesday through Sunday from eleven in the morning—to capture all those people who like to have high tea for lunch—to four in the afternoon. It means I’ll be having Mondays and Tuesdays off work and my Saturday night karaoke habit won’t be able to run quite as late nor involve quite as much Chardonnay as it once did. Unpleasant experience tells me hangovers and rich treats don’t exactly mix.
As the name suggests, the High Tea wing of the Cozy Cottage is focused much more on tea than on coffee. Although we serve both, I know next to nothing about tea, so ever since my bosses offered me the job, I’ve been researching, sampling, and trying to make myself like it. So far, let’s just say it’s a work in progress. I’m still a coffee babe, all the way.
“Here, take these.” Bailey thrusts a set of keys into my hand. “I’ll come through in a moment.”
I don’t need to know what they unlock.
“Sure,” I reply with a burst of happiness. I walk through the café and out onto the street. I stand and gaze at the outside of High Tea, with its big, gracious windows, its striped awning, and the words “Cozy Cottage High Tea” written in elegant, looping text above the door. I can still barely believe I’ll be the one managing this place. Sure, it’s only for a couple of days a week, but that’s a couple of days a week more than I’ve ever managed anything in my life.
I close the door behind me and look around the silent room. I take in the quaint wooden tables, the chairs stacked upside down on top. Each table has a potted hyacinth in its center, and scenes of picturesque landscapes are scattered across the walls. It’s shabby chic with a country twist, a natural extension of the Cozy Cottage Café next door.
I pick up one of the menus from behind the podium and read through it. It’s all about finger food, naturally, with sandwiches and mini scones with jam and cream, an assortment of cakes and slices. All of it delicious, just as I’d expect from any place Paige and Bailey owned.
I walk out into the quaint, covered courtyard. Out here there are white-painted wrought iron tables and chairs, a vertical garden on one wall, and assorted potted plants against the other.
I hear a noise in the main room and make my way back, coming face to face with Paige and her husband, Josh.
“Sophie, good morning!” Paige says.
“Hey, guys. What are you doing here?”
Paige’s belly has grown from the last time I saw her. “We’ve stopped by on our way to meet Marissa and Nash,” Paige replies, naming one of the other members of the One Last First Date Pact and her boyfriend.
“And the dog. You can’t forget the dog,” Josh adds. He shakes his head. “That dog of theirs is treated like some sort of demigod. It eats steak, can you believe?”
“Nash is all about the dogs. He rescues them, you know,” Paige explains, although this is information I’ve known for years. You don’t see Nash and Marissa out anywhere without their precious pooch.
She nods at a large plastic tub on one of the tables. “I brought these in. They’re little peach tartlets you can serve with chocolate sauce.”
“They’re good,” Josh confirms, “too good.”
“I wouldn’t know. I couldn’t stomach them.” Paige scrunches up her nose.
“Morning sickness still giving you grief?” I peer into the tub. The aroma is mouth-watering. “Oh, these look great.”
“I’m hoping we’ll see the end of it soon. Right, honey?” Paige says.
“Right. We’re doing everything we can,” he places his hand on Paige’s belly, “but these little muffins in here are determined to make sure their presence is known.”
Paige puts her hand over Josh’s, and they share a loving look. “Did you know I’ve set Sophie up with a guy I used to work with?” Paige says to her husband.
“I didn’t, but it sounds exactly like something my hopeless romantic of a wife would do,” he replies with a smile.
She pats him playfully on the arm. “I’m a very good judge of character, and Sophie wants to date nice guys.”
“Nice guys, huh?” Josh raises his brows at me, and I nod. “We are a rare breed.”
I laugh. “I’m sad to say as a single woman out there in the dating jungle, you are a rare breed, and getting rarer by the minute.” I need to bite the bullet, as they say, and come clean with Paige about Oliver. “Actually, I went out with him last night.”
Paige’s smile is expectant. “And?”
“And it didn’t work out.” I stave off an involuntary shiver as the memory of him spoon-feeding me returns full force.
“Why not?”
I knew she’d ask, so I have what I hope is a bullet-proof response. “Although you were totally right that he’s a great guy, we didn’t have any chemistry.” No one can argue with that, can they? Chemistry is such an elusive thing.
“No chemistry, huh? Well, you’ve either got it or you don’t. Honey, did you know Sophie’s last boyfriend dumped her at Bailey and Ryan’s wedding?” she asks Josh. “Can you believe it? I mean, how awful for poor Sophie.”
Being labeled “poor Sophie” doesn’t exactly make me feel a million dollars, but I smile my way through it.
“At the start or the end of the wedding?” Josh asks me.
“What does that matter?” Paige asks.
“If it’s at the end, then maybe he’s a better guy for having stuck it out for the night. But then if it’s at the start, maybe he was putting her out of her misery early? Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t know which is better.”
“Neither!” Paige says.
“It was at the start, in the church, around about the time Bailey and Ryan were saying their vows.” I smile at them both even though my insides are twisting painfully at the memory.
Josh shakes his head. “What a jerk.”
“Oh, it got better. He then went off with another girl, and they spent the reception flirting and dancing in front of everyone, as though she didn’t even exist.” She tsks. “Flaunting their infatuation, Josh, right in front of poor Sophie.”
Again with the “poor Sophie.” I could get a complex here.
I shoot them both a smile that I hope says “I’m totally over it, now let’s move on.” I collect the tub in my hands. “Thanks for these. I need to get things started in here. High Tea waits for no man. Well, no woman. Most of our customers are female.”
“I know you’re going to do an amazing job,” Paige says to me. “I couldn’t trust our High Tea baby with anyone else.” To my surprise, Paige’s eyes begin to fill with tears. “It means a lot to me that you’re doing this, Sophie.”
I look from Paige to Josh.
“Paige is feeling a little emotional right now.” Josh wraps his arm around Paige’s shoulders. “Shall we go meet the others? See what lavish meal that dog of theirs ate for breakfast?”
She nods and they turn to leave. She glances back at me and mouths, “Thank you.” I wave them off with a smile.
By opening time, waitress Matilda has arrived, and our chef, Clive, is in the kitchen with Bailey, baking things that smell like they could add five inches to my thighs—and sadly, they probably will. I’m dashing around ensuring all the little details are right: the gold fringe on the menus are hanging downwards, there are no dead flowers or leaves on the vertical wall, and the silverware is clean and orderly on each table. Me? O.C.D.? Well, maybe a little.
“Are you ready for this?” Bailey asks as I tie my High Tea apron around my waist in the kitchen. “Our first customers will be here in a few minutes.”
“I think I am. I mean, I’ve worked in here before, but it feels different now, you know?”
“You weren’t a manager then.”
I do my best to ignore the pang of nerves inside. “Right.”
Bailey calls a mini staff meeting. “Today is a dry run for Sophie, who will take over fully tomorrow if she’s confident to do so. If you need anything, go to her first. I’ll be out here doing the prep with Clive. Okay with you, Sophie?”
I guess it’ll have to be.
I nod and plaster on a confident smile. “Sure. No problem.”
“Right, well, good luck, and enjoy yourselves,” Bailey says with her characteristic beautiful smile.
I take my place at the podium, ready to welcome our first customers of the day. When some familiar faces push through the door, I rush to greet them. “You guys! What are you doing here?” I greet Darcy, Erin, and Jason with quick hugs.
Erin beams at me. “We wanted to be here to support you on your first big day.”
“That and we knew you had that totally sucky date with the weirdo guy last night,” Darcy adds.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t remind me.”
“We’re your first customers,” Jason announces with evident pride.
“But there’s only one table for three booked right now, and that’s for . . . oh, I get it. You’re Ms. Agnetha.”
“That’s right,” Erin says. “May I introduce Frida,” she points at Erin who strikes a classic ABBA pose, “And Jason’s Bjorn.”
“Being fake members of ABBA sounded like it’d be a lot more fun,” he says. “I was expecting private jets, a stadium full of adoring fans, maybe a bucket load of cash.”
“Hey, don’t complain, Jas. At least we didn’t make you wear the seventies flares,” Darcy says.
Jason laughs. “That’s a very good point. Praise the Lord for small mercies.”
I collect the menus in my arms. “Shall I show you to your table, Agnetha, Frida, and Bjorn?”
Darcy flashes me her grin. “Thank you very much, Ms. McCarthy. You’re the manager here, I understand.”
I beam back at her. “Why, yes, I am.” I show them to their table.
As they take their seats, Jason says, “I have a feeling we’re going to tip super well today. Don’t you, ladies?”
I blush and smile. “You guys!”
“This place is just like the café next door,” Jason comments as he looks around.
“Funny that, Einstein,” Darcy replies. “For a doctor, you sure can be slow on the uptake.”
“Thanks a lot!” he protests.
“Slow but super pretty,” I tease.
Jason’s eyes flash to mine. “I’m glad you think so, McCarthy. I aim to please.”
I shake my head at him good-naturedly. “Okay, Matilda, your server, will be over in a moment.” I turn to leave, stop, and turn back. “You guys are the best, you know that? Thanks for being here.”
“Sophie McCarthy’s big moment? We wouldn’t miss it,” Erin says.
“Exactly,” Darcy agrees.
Jason nods and smiles up at me, saying, “We’ve got your back, McCarthy.”
We’re kept steady into the early afternoon, but I notice there are more than a couple of empty tables at any given time. With Bailey and Paige’s delicious cooking and reputation as the queens of cake, I’d expected it to be busier. During a lull, I manage to grab a few minutes to check in on my friends.
“I still can’t believe he was a ‘feeder,’” Erin says as she places her teacup back on its saucer. “I didn’t even know what that was. And now, I wish I didn’t, for your sake, Soph. I mean, ugh .”
I shake my head. “It just goes to show you can vet someone and question them and think they’re sane human beings, and they can still have some weird thing, lurking deep down inside.” I look at Jason, fully expecting an “I told you so.” Which is precisely what I get.
“I told you so, McCarthy,” he says. “Would you listen to your much more mature, expert guest judge? That would be a ‘no.’”
“Not helping, Jason.” I let out a heavy sigh. “Last night was almost enough to make you want to give up.”
“Give up?” Darcy says. “On dating?”
“Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know.”
“Sit,” Darcy instructs. “We need to talk this out.” She turns to Jason. “And no more from you, thank you.”
“Got it,” he says with a serious nod.
I glance around the room and check that Bailey doesn’t need me. She’s chatting to a customer herself, and the people at the tables around us have all been served and are currently tucking into their High Tea treats. I’ve got a few minutes, so I pull out a chair and sit down with my friends. “Okay, convince me I’m being dramatic.”
“It was one date gone wrong. That’s all. We missed what should have been a red flag,” Darcy says.
“Jason didn’t miss it. He called it, and I didn’t listen to him,” I reply.
All eyes at the table turn to Jason. He simply shrugs, his mouth firmly shut.
“It’s good to see you can do what you’re told,” Darcy says to him. “We didn’t believe him because it seemed so crazy.”
My mind turns to the way Oliver kept thrusting food at my face, and I shiver. “It is crazy.”
Darcy shakes her head. “That’s no reason to give up, babe. We just need to tighten the Vetting Process.”
“Exactly,” Erin says with confidence. “You need to get back on that horse, stat! You’re our guiding star in this right now. And all that’s happened is that a slippery one got through the net, that’s all. A little, slippery, slithery fish.”
“A weird little, slippery, slithery fish,” I correct.
“I think you need to go out and find someone straight away. And I bet when you do, this one will be a keeper,” Erin says.
“I don’t want a keeper. Well, a short-term-keeper, I guess, not a husband-keeper.”
“Of course,” Erin says as she sits back in her seat. “That’s what I meant.” She casts her eyes down, and I begin to wonder whether she actually wants her H.E.A. and not just an H.F.N.
I’m too wrapped up in my own date-related sulk to question her on it.
“Do you want my opinion?” Jason asks.
I shrug. “Sure. Why not?” He’s managed to stay quiet for some time, so it’s the least I can do.
“Give it some time. If you go out looking for the right guy, chances are you won’t find him.”
“He’s wrong,” Erin states simply. “Find that horse and climb up on him.”
“Now, there’s an image,” I reply with a grin.
The door opens and a group of people are almost blown into the room along with some leaves from the trees outside. It’s that time of the year. It’s cooling off, the leaves are falling, and it’ll only be a matter of time before we get the fire blazing in the café, making it even more cozy.
I stand up. “I’d better get back to work.”
“You go do your thing, babe. Karaoke at eight tonight,” Darcy says.
“Who knows? You might meet your next date there,” Erin says with a waggle of her eyebrows.
Darcy looks up at me. “You’ve got to promise not to be defeated after just one date, okay? Like Erin said, you’ve got to get back on that horse.”
“Horse. Right. See you tonight at eight.” I tighten my pink Cozy Cottage High Tea apron around my waist as I make my way through the tables to the podium. There’s a group of people waiting when I get there. “Welcome to Cozy Cottage High Tea. How may I help you today?”
“We’ve got a booking for five people under the name Samson,” one of the two younger women says.
I peer at the computer screen and spot the booking. I look up and smile at the older woman in the group. “Happy birthday, Mrs. Samson. We’re so pleased you chose to spend your afternoon with us here at High Tea.”
“Oh, thank you, dear,” Mrs. Samson replies with a big smile. “My family is treating me.”
“You deserve it, dear,” says the older man at her side.
“Mum’s wanted to come here forever,” her son says to me. “Every time we drive by it’s always ‘doesn’t that place look nice,’ and ‘I wonder what high tea is like.’”
“It’s true. Subtle is not a word we use with you a whole lot, Mum,” one of the daughters says.
I smile at them all, the sweet, happy family here to make their mother’s birthday special. “Well, subtle or not, we’re glad you’re here, Mrs. Samson. Please, follow me.”
I collect five menus from behind the desk and lead them to a table by the window I had reserved for them. When her son made the booking, he had told me it was her birthday, and we’ve prepared a special High Tea cake for her at his request.
“Thanks for this,” the son says to me as the rest of his family take their seats. He extends his hand and we shake. “I’m David, by the way. We spoke on the phone. It’s great to put a face to the voice.” He keeps a hold of my hand for a second longer and adds, “A real pretty one.”
My eyes dart to his face, and I notice his smile is a little flirty. He’s cute in a Nick Jonas kind of way, only a little taller than me, with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen outside of an American Girl doll.
“Thank you,” I say, not quite sure how else to react. I’m still smarting from the whole Oliver feeder debacle.
He chuckles when he says, “You’re welcome?”
I find my cheeks heating up. What was it that Erin said? Get back on that horse?
“I-I hope you enjoy your high tea experience.”
“I’m sure we will.” He takes his seat at the table, and I get back to my work.
Sometime later, when I steal a look at him from across the room, he smiles at me, and I get a couple of butterflies batting their wings inside.
Butterflies? Really?
Wow, even I’m impressed with how quickly I’ve moved on.
After a virtual fully blown conversation through simply glancing at smiling at one another over the next hour and a half, it comes as no surprise when David hangs back after paying the check while his family assembles outside.
“I hope your mum had an enjoyable afternoon.”
“She did. I did, too, although for other reasons, I bet.” His smile is just as flirty as it was when he arrived, and I happily return it. Sue me: flirting is fun, and I’ve picked my horse.
I feign innocence. “What would those reasons be?”
“Give me your number and I’ll tell you.”
Well, that’s direct and to the point. I don’t need to be asked twice—did I mention how cute this guy is?—so I recite my number as he types it into his phone.
“Got it.” He slips his phone into his back pocket. “Hey, do you like the beach? Swimming? That sort of thing?”
“Who doesn’t?” Although I need to spend some serious time getting to know a guy before I’ll parade around in front of him in anything less than full clothing, thank you very much.
He grins at me. “Awesome. I’ll text you. See you soon, Sophie.”
I raise my hand in a small wave and say a goodbye as I watch him leave. My hopes that David might turn out to be a good guy rise inside me like an over-heated hot air balloon.