Chapter 12
Chapter 12
After the last customer has gone home, full to the brim of our treats, we clean the place up so it’s spotless. Matilda and Clive have just left for the day, and I find Bailey sitting at one of the tables and staring at her laptop. She looks like she’s concentrating hard.
“All done,” I say.
She looks up at me and smiles. “Sophie. How do you feel today went?”
“So good!” I reply in total honesty. From my besties turning up to support me, to meeting cute and flirty David, to the last customers’ gushing compliments about the mini cupcakes, it was an awesome day. “Everything went really, really well. I had a great day.”
“That’s great to hear! You can’t expect it to run like that every time, of course, but I’m so glad it went well for you today.”
“Me too.”
She nods, her mouth drawn into a line as she returns her attention to her laptop screen. “Right now, I need to get on with some work. Are you any good with numbers?”
I walk around the table to look at the screen. It’s a spreadsheet, full columns of numbers. “That looks complicated.”
“Oh, it is. So complicated.” She lets out a sigh. “It’s all part of managing two businesses, I guess. This is something Josh set up for the Cozy Cottage, and I’m trying to apply it to High Tea. This column here shows what we’re spending to feed and water all those customers of ours, this shows what we’re making, and these here show things like staff and non-food-related running costs.”
I run my eyes over the numbers. I did some accounting as part of my finance degree, so it all makes sense to me. I’m surprised to see the profits are not as high as I would have expected for such a successful business.
“Let’s be honest,” Bailey says as she watches me study the screen, “profits are down a little these days. We started out with a flurry, and it felt like we could do no wrong, but over the last six to nine months, well, the café has been carrying High Tea.”
“Why do you think that is?”
She lets out a sigh. “I do not know. Paige and I have wracked our brains. She knows how to market, our website is great, we do special deals to bring more customers in. A whole lot of things. Plus, the café has never been so busy. But here? Something’s just not working. Not the way it used to, anyway.”
“I thought going out to high tea was the new thing in Auckland. It’s super fashionable.”
“Maybe that’s the problem? When we opened, this was the only place doing high tea in this part of town. Now, I could name three places within a short drive.”
“But it’s so special here! It’s got your amazing food, which you are totally famous for, plus it’s so cute and homey.”
Bailey shakes her head. “I don’t know. As owners, it’s up to Paige and me to work it out, but if you have any ideas…”
“That sounds like a challenge to me. I’d be more than happy to put some thought into it. I could come up with some ideas?”
Yup, I’m either super positive or super eager. I’m not sure which right now.
Bailey laughs. “I love your attitude, Sophie. I’ll let you know.” She snaps her laptop shut. “Shall we get out of here? I have a new husband waiting for me at home, and he’s promised to take me to a movie at the Italian Film Festival tonight. My choice, so it’ll be a romantic one.”
“You are so lucky. You have no idea.”
She stands up. “Believe me, this is only the second time in our entire relationship he’s agreed to go to a romantic movie with me. I really had to twist his arm.” She tucks her laptop under her arm. “Have a great night, Sophie. You deserve it.”
With Bailey gone, I’m left on my own once more. I look around me, ideas on how to make this place pop rolling through my mind.
If it’s a challenge, I’m up for it. I love this place as if it were my own, and I want it to survive. No, forget that. I need it to survive. And I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure that happens.
“Who are you texting? Your phone is going crazy right now.”
I glance at Jason as I slip my phone behind one of the scatter cushions on the sofa. “No one.”
We’re at our apartment, relaxing on the sofa. After my big day at High Tea, I’m too shattered to go to karaoke with my girls. Instead, I chose a quiet night in, playing video games with Jason.
“Well, ‘no one’ needs to stop with the endless messages because we’ve got a game to play here.” He hands me the game controller as my phone vibrates against the cushion. “ Seriously , McCarthy.”
Despite Jason’s protestations—and maybe because of them, too—I pull my phone out once more and read the most recent message.
You’re cute, you know that?
I smile as my cheeks flush warm. I type out a quick reply.
No, you are.
Ever since we met this afternoon, David and I have been texting up a flirtatious storm of monsoon proportions. The whole “play it cool” thing is clearly not his style. We’ve covered all the main topics: favorite drink, music preferences, and whether the Kardashians are sucking the lifeblood from the planet with their narcissism and inexplicable appeal (verdict: a very clear and unanimous yes).
And what’s more, he’s nice. Really, really nice.
I have extremely high hopes, people. Extremely high hopes.
“Okay, hand it over.” Jason holds his hand out, palm-up in front of me.
“What? No.” I place my phone back behind the cushion once more. “It’s battle time. Prepare to have your cute little hiney whooped, Christie.”
“That’s fighting talk.”
I shrug. “You know I’m good for it.”
My phone vibrates once more, and I go to collect it from its hiding place. I hesitate, my hand mid-air, and glance at Jason. “Pause the game, please.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Before I know what’s happening, he throws himself across me, pulls my phone from behind the cushion, and jumps up, brandishing it in the air.
“Hey! Give it back!” I stand up and reach for my phone, but Jason has a good few inches on me, so I only manage to bat at his elbow. It achieves absolutely nothing.
“You can have it back once we’ve played,” he says as I jump up to try to grab it from him.
“But this is important.” And yes, my voice does sound like a whine.
“Important, huh?” He reads the screen. “‘You’ve got beautiful hair.’” He shoots me a questioning look. “This is what’s important? And who the heck is this David Crichton guy, anyway?” He waggles the phone at me.
“I told you. He’s no one.”
“That’s not going to cut it with me, McCarthy. You’ve been sitting there on the sofa, giggling and blushing for far too long for him to be no one. How do I know he’s not some weirdo with a hair fetish who’s planning on shaving your head to harvest your hair while you sleep?”
I laugh. “Because that would be insane?”
“You’ve dated worse, the least of all being that feeder guy.”
“Please, don’t remind me.”
“So, who is Davy Crocket?”
“His name is not Davy Crockett, it’s David Crichton.”
“Same thing. You should check to see if he’s the King of the Wild Frontier and wears a furry hat.”
An image of David with a hat made from raccoon fur pops into my head. “Thank you for that, Jason.” My tone drips with sarcasm.
“As your older, wiser, and significantly more mature roommate, I need to know what his intentions are toward you.”
I extend my hand. “Pass me my phone, and I’ll tell you all about him.”
He passes me my phone, and I keep up my end of the bargain. “I met him today at High Tea. He spent the whole time smiling across the room at me, and then he asked for my number. Isn’t that adorable?”
“Adorable,” he deadpans.
I ignore him. “David is the horse Erin told me to get back up on.”
“You’re clearly not taking my advice to have a break from looking for this whole H.F.G.L.T. thing.”
“It’s H.F.N., Jas, and no, I’m not. We’re going on a date.”
“You mean an Initial Meeting. As part of the No More Bad Dates Pact Committee, you need to stick with the rules, Ms. McCarthy.”
I wave my hand in the air. “I guess. But maybe I don’t need to do the whole pact thing with him? I can tell he’s a good one.”
“Like you could with the feeder?”
“Well, no.” Why does he have to be right? “But this is different,” I sniff.
“Really? Was it like you could tell with Andrew dump-me-at-a-wedding Foster?”
He’s on a roll now, dredging up my most recent dating failures.
Jason Christie is not good for my ego, that’s for sure.
I let out a puff of air and my mouth twists. Even though I’m annoyed at him right now, I know he’s got a point. Damn him! My track record of judging whether a guy is a weirdo, a jerk, or just plain horrible is poor at best. “Yeah, okay. I’ll make it an Initial Meeting.”
“Do you pinky promise?” He waggles his little finger at me as though we’re a couple of school kids.
“I thought you said you’re the mature one?”
“I am. Now pinky promise.”
I laugh as I hook my smallest finger around his. It’s strange, but our fingers hooked together feels somehow right, like they fit. See? I said it’s strange.
“I pinky promise. I’ll have an Initial Contact with David and let him know about the Vetting Process.”
“Good. Not that it worked last time. If only Darcy and Erin had listened to their knowledgeable and wise friend, Jason. Or should I start calling myself the Dating Oracle? Oh, yeah. I like the sound of that: Dating Oracle, Doctor Jason Christie.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head, dude.”
“Too late.” He flashes me that cheeky grin of his. “So, this Davy Crocket guy. What’s so different about him?”
I feel my cheeks begin to heat. “I guess he seems so nice. He and his sisters took their mum to High Tea for her birthday today. He arranged the whole thing. That’s pretty sweet of him, don’t you think?”
“So, the guy loves his mum? Stop the press; this is huge!”
“Us women like it when guys love their moms. It means they’ve got serious dating potential.”
“Well, us guys know he’s probably just a big old mommy’s boy.”
I whack him playfully on the arm. “He’s not a mommy’s boy. He’s sweet and smart, and funny and flirty.”
“Well, of course he’s going to be flirty with you. You’re a total babe.”
I widen my eyes. “I am?”
“You know you are. But I’m not going to make your head so big you can’t fit through the kitchen door to grab me another Coke.”
I laugh. “Did you seriously just flatter me so I would go to the kitchen for you?”
He pulls his best Puss-in-Boots wide-eyed look. “Did it work?”
I waggle one of the controllers in my hand. “How about the loser of the game has to get the Cokes?”
“Well, in that case, you may as well go get that drink for me now because you are going down , McCarthy.”
“Fighting talk, princess. Now, let’s get on with your humiliation.”
“Brave words from the reigning loser.”
“I prefer to be called ‘second place holder,’ thank you very much.”
Sitting side by side, we start the game up and not even my phone vibrating with another message from David can distract me from my attempt to beat Jason. I’m totally focused, shooting, smashing, destroying. Jason’s the reigning apartment Fortnite champion, as he loves to remind me, and I’ve been working all year to dislodge him from his number one spot. I’ve managed it twice, and seeing him sulk those two times made it all completely worthwhile.
But, sadly, today is not my day, and I sit waiting for him to laud his win over me, which he does at his patronizing best.
“Oh, McCarthy. What’s the saying? Always the loser, never the champ?”
I shake my head in good humor at him. Although I would love to beat him at this game, it doesn’t bother me enough to lose any sleep over it. “Yeah, something like that, Jas.” I push myself up off the sofa. “I’ll get your Coke, and then I’m heading to bed. I am beat.”
With a yawn, I wander into the kitchen to get him his drink. I hand it to him and say, “Good night.”
“I’m looking forward to vetting Davy Crockett,” he calls down the hall.
“Not Davy Crockett,” I call back as I close my bedroom door behind me.
I flop down on my bed next to a sleeping Freckles. She looks up at me briefly before snuggling back into a furry ball. I lie on my bed, pull out my phone, and read the last message from David. Anticipation spreads through me like warm lava.
I think I’ve found one of the good guys, and nothing Jason or anyone else can say will persuade me otherwise.