Two Last First Dates Page 10

  My chest deflated. Why didn’t he come over to talk to me? I chewed the inside of my lip as I poured the hot water into the tea pot. And then I knew. Bailey must have started the vetting process! She was asking him questions, taking mental notes. Hope rose inside me.

  When Bailey returned to the counter, I asked, “Did you have a good chat?”

  She looked at me blankly.

  “With that guy I saw you with. Marcus Something-or-other?” As if I didn’t have his name emblazoned on my brain: Marcus Hahn. I willed the blush in my cheeks to dissipate.

  “Oh, yes. It was really useful.” She turned her attention to the food in the cabinet.

  Useful? I smiled to myself. She must be making progress. I tried to make my voice as nonchalant as possible. “Oh, that’s good.” Inside, I went all Michael Flatley in Riverdance.

  The café had begun to empty out, the relative quiet before the lunchtime storm, and Bailey, Sophie, and I were working to get everything ready. I was torn between asking about Bailey’s conversation with Marcus and pretending I had no idea who she had lined up as my Last First Date.

  “Can you please move the remainder of that cake along so we can make room for the paninis?” she asked as she headed to the kitchen.

  “Sure.” I did as she asked, and then followed her. “Bailey?” I asked, my voice light

  “Mm?” She was studying a sheet of paper, ticking items off as she ran her finger down the margin.

  I was suddenly nervous. “How’s the . . . ah . . . research going?”

  She put her finger in the air, her head still down. Eventually, after I stood there, waiting for some time, a nervous wreck, she raised her head and looked up at me. “Sorry, what?”

  I played with the frill on my apron. “I was just wondering how things were going with you and Marissa, ah, finding me my Last First Date.”

  “It’s going well.” Her face broke into a smile. “In fact, he was here today.”

  “He was?” I tried my best to seem surprised and only mildly interested. I hoped it worked. Inside, Michael Flatley was at it again.

  “Yes, but I’m not going to say anything further. Only that the more I learn about him, the more I’m convinced he’s so the right guy for you. I think you’re going to be very happy.”

  I beamed. Bailey was right; I was going to be very happy, very happy indeed.

  Chapter 10

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, BEFORE the sun had woken up and had its first coffee of the day, I met Josh at The Domain, a beautiful green and leafy park in central Auckland. The air had a distinctive chill, which suited me just fine—it meant I could throw on a loose-fitting sweatshirt over my straining sports clothes. Oh, yes, it was more than time I got myself back on the exercise wagon. Either that or give up my cake habit, and there are some things in this life a woman just wasn’t prepared to do, especially if she worked at the Cozy Cottage Café.

  “Morning, sunshine.” Josh greeted me with a grin, far too chipper for this early hour.

  I took in his long, lean physique, his runner’s legs, his formfitting T-shirt and shorts. He was the consummate runner and I had to admit, he looked good. Not in Marcus’s league of course, but not too shabby for the coffee delivery guy and my self-appointed exercise buddy.

  “What? No cringe-worthy coffee slogans this morning?” I asked, nodding at his Nike T-shirt.

  “You can overdo a good thing, you know.” He winked at me. “You ready for this?”

  I shrugged. “No!” was the honest answer, although I wasn’t about to tell that to Mr. Supreme Athlete Josh. “Sure. Why not?”

  “We can take it slow.” He flashed me a cheeky grin, and I wondered why.

  “Yes, I’d like it if we—” I began, only to stop and stare in bafflement as he raced away from me, into The Domain. Cheeky grin explained, I yelled “You cheater!” at the top of my voice as I watched him, my mouth dropping open in disbelief, as he became smaller and smaller the farther away he got.

  He wasn’t turning back. Without another thought, I sprang into action, chasing after him, running with all my might to catch him up. At first it felt good, stretching my legs, moving at speed, hoping to gain on him. Then, the pain began to set in. My lungs began to burn, my heart pounded heavily in my chest, and my legs screamed all sorts of expletives at me, questioning why I was putting them through this torture when they could be curled up in bed instead.

  Finally, after sprinting up a hill with what could only be bionic strength, he stopped and turned to watch me, bouncing from one foot to the other. “Come on, Paige! You can do it!” he encouraged.

  I eyed the hill. It wasn’t too big, but with my body yelling abuse at me, it felt insurmountable.

  “Come on! Get your ass up here!” Josh yelled as a slim, fit woman glided past me and up the hill, making me feel even more like an out of shape muffin. Ooh, muffins. No, I had to concentrate. I couldn’t let this guy get the better of me. I glared at him and summoned every last bit of strength. I forced myself to run as fast as I could up that hill. I must have looked like I had one of those vertical bungee cords strapped to me, because no matter how hard I ran, I still felt like I was moving no faster than a sloth with a hangover.

  Finally, after a Herculean effort, I arrived at Josh’s side. I shot him a death stare before I leaned down, my hands on my knees, gasping for breath, trying my best to resist the almost overwhelming urge to vomit. “What did . . . you . . . do . . . that for?” I panted, looking up at him accusingly.

  “I just wanted to know what I’m dealing with here. And now I know.”

  I stood back up, wiped the sweat away from my eyes, and tried to catch my breath.

  “You said you needed to train for The Color Run, and I would say you’ve got your work cut out.”

  Finally catching my breath, I replied, “I know . . . but there’s something to be said for starting slow.” My breathing finally began to return to normal. “Do you always run that fast?” I had decided there and then never to repeat this experience with him, despite my need to train for the run.

  He nodded, smiling at me. “I guess. I don’t have all that much time in the mornings, so I like to go short and sharp.”

  I scrunched up my face. “Short sounds good, but maybe not the sharp part.”

  He let out an easy laugh. He was enjoying my pain and humiliation. “Come on. It’s downhill for a while, then we’ll run on the flat through Newmarket for a bit. Okay? I promise to go easier on you from now on.”

  The downhill I could get on board with, but the running through streets I usually spent my time at shopping and brunching sounded less appealing.

  Josh must have sensed my hesitation, adding, “I won’t go as fast this time. Scout’s honor.” He saluted with two fingers and looked so funny, I let out a laugh.

  “Sure. But only if we run together at a reasonable pace, okay?”

  “Agreed.”

  We took off down the hill, side by side. Josh bounded along with his long, gazelle-like legs, looking effortless and talking away. I, on the other hand, could only manage grunts and two-word sentences I could get out in one breath. By the time we’d run past my favorite fashion stores, my nail bar, and the spa I had a facial at a couple of weeks ago, we reached our starting spot. I was filled with relief and completely drenched in sweat.

  “Great job, Paige,” Josh said as we came to a stop by a park bench. He held onto the back and began stretch out his quad muscles.

  I wanted to follow suit, but my legs were so wobbly I didn’t trust myself not to fall to the ground in a large blob of exhaustion. Instead, I sat down heavily on the bench and let out a long puff of air, thankful the torture was finally over.

  Josh finished up his stretches and joined me on the bench. “You’re fitter than you think, you know.”

  I looked at him in surprise. “You almost killed me back there. I nearly puked all over your shoes.” Part of me wished I had.

  He chuckled. “Well, I’m very pleased you didn’t. These
shoes cost me a lot of money.”

  We both looked down at his shoes.

  “Do you run every day?” I asked.

  “Most days. I like to get a cycle or a sail in, too, usually on the weekends when work isn’t so busy.”

  I thought of him darting around town with his boxes of beans. This city has a serious caffeine addiction, and there are a lot of cafés out there. Now that I knew the Ned’s Coffee brand, I had begun to see it everywhere, even in the supermarket. Josh must be one busy delivery guy.

  “Are you still working at the Cozy Cottage?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I am. It’s pretty cool. I’m doing some design work for Bailey right now, helping her out with the website and things.”

  “That’s awesome!” He seemed genuinely impressed. “That’s what you were doing with the camera the other day, right?” I nodded. “I’d love to see it. Hey, you should add some Ned’s info on there, too. People like to see what sort of coffee a café serves. There are some total coffee snobs out there, you know?”

  I raised my eyebrows at him. “Is this the pot calling the kettle black, by any chance?”

  He chuckled. “Maybe. I’ll get something to you.” He pulled his phone out of his armband. “What’s your email address?”

  I gave it to him, and he promised to forward some information to me later in the day.

  “So, tomorrow. Same bat time, same bat channel?”

  Now that my heart was no longer threatening to burst out of my chest and my lungs no longer felt like someone had set them on fire, going on another run tomorrow didn’t feel like such a dreadful idea. After the initial torture, running with Josh had been fun. Well, almost fun. Eating cake would still beat it, hands down.

  I smiled at him. “I’d like that, on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You don’t ever trick me into sprinting to catch up with you again.”

  He laughed. “I promise. But you did it, didn’t you?”

  He had a point. I had done it, and I felt good about myself because of it. Perhaps for the first time in quite a long time.

  * * *

  My body was screaming at me when I delivered coffee and cake to Cassie and Marissa at their usual table, grabbing the chance to chat with my two friends while there was an unexpected lull.

  “I hear you’re doing The Color Run with us. That is so cool,” Cassie said.

  “Well, I’m going to give it a shot,” I replied, my thighs burning as I crouched to place the order on the table in a dip a sixties Playboy bunny would have been proud of. I’d been getting progressively stiffer as the morning had gone on, but it couldn’t dent the sense of achievement I’d had doing the run.

  Cassie smiled at me. “You’ll do great.” She glanced around the café. “Why don’t you sit down with us for a bit? There’s no one here right now.”

  I looked around the café. Bailey was doing an inventory check out back, Jacob, one of the baristas, was organizing things behind the counter, and there were no customers waiting to be served. “It’ll be like old times,” I said with a smile as I pulled out a chair and gingerly lowered myself down on it.

  “Exactly. The three amigos,” Cassie replied.

  Marissa let out a laugh. “The ‘three amigos’? Really?”

  “Well, I could have said the three caffeine- and sugar-addicted princesses, but amigos seemed better.”

  “I don’t know. I like the idea of being a princess,” Marissa said, a whimsical look on her face.

  Cassie smiled at her, shaking her head. Turning to me, she said, “I’m really happy to see you’re getting out there and doing something new.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Marissa added, nodding.

  I studied my friend’s faces. “I get out and do things,” I retorted defensively.

  “Well, you used to,” Marissa replied carefully. She darted a look at Cassie across the table.

  Like some kind of orchestrated tag-team, Cassie picked up the gauntlet. “Marissa’s right. You haven’t been your usual self for a while. We’ve been worried about you.”

  If I’d known I was going to get the concerned-parents talk, I would have stayed safely tucked away behind the counter. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

  My friends shared another look.

  “We know you’ve had some things going on.” Marissa glanced at Cassie and cleared her throat.

  We all knew the elephant in the room was Cassie’s boyfriend, Will. What my friends didn’t know was I had moved on: to one Marcus Hahn. My tummy did a little flip at the thought.

  I shrugged. “I’m okay now.” When neither of them appeared to accept it, I added, “Really. I am. I know I was . . . knocked back with the whole thing, but I’m good now.” I could feel my face heating up.

  “It’s more than just that, although it’s really great to hear you’re okay with . . . that, now. But you did walk out on your job with nothing else to go to,” Cassie said.

  I bit my lip, my tummy sinking at the sorry state of my career. “I’ve started looking for something else already.”

  “That’s so great!” Cassie declared.

  I thought of my total lack of interest in applying for any of the jobs I’d seen advertised. I knew I needed to get on with it and start applying, but I lacked the drive to do it. Every time I read about a job that could be right for my skills, I’d get a strange feeling in my chest, weighing me down. Then, I’d snap my laptop shut and think about something else.

  I pasted on a smile. “Yeah, it is. And for now, working here is great.”

  Marissa pulled a face. “But it’s not a real job, is it? It’s just a stopgap, while you look for something else.”

  She sounded so certain, I nodded along. I knew I didn’t see being a waitress as my career exactly, but I did love being here: working with Bailey, preparing the food, serving the customers, feeling a part of something. I knew I’d have to pull myself together and get back to the real world at some stage, but right now I was more than happy with how I spent my days.

  Not that I expected my two career-minded friends to understand.

  “It’s all in hand. I’m registered with recruiters and am actively looking. Watch this space!” I added with a smile.

  They both appeared satisfied with my response and moved on to Marissa’s potential One Last First Date, much to my relief.

  “So, you’re saying after stalking him, he’s not the guy for you?” Cassie asked.

  “Look, I found out he’s not quite the guy I thought he was,” Marissa said with a deep sigh. “So, it’s back to the drawing board for me.”

  “Is this the Henry Cavill look-a-like?” I asked, and Marissa and Cassie nodded. “What was wrong with this one, then?” I couldn’t help a wry smile spread across my face.

  “Don’t say. Let us guess,” Cassie said, her hands in the “stop” sign. “His nose was too big?”

  “No, I know what! He had a less than good-looking mother and you got worried your kids would be ugly,” I offered with a cheeky grin.

  “Oh, no. I’ve got it! He has those dark hairs that curl over his shirt cuffs. Which he does, incidentally.” Cassie nodded at me.

  “Thanks, guys. I’m not that picky, you know,” Marissa huffed, crossing her arms.

  Cassie and I shared a look and laughed. She was that picky, and then some.

  “Sure, you’re not,” I said.

  “Who said you were?” Cassie added, her eyebrows raised.

  Marissa tucked her hair behind her ears. “He just wasn’t right. And it has to be perfect, you know?”

  My mind instantly darted to Marcus. He was perfect. Well, as close to perfect as a guy could get.

  “Paige?”

  I looked up to see Bailey gesturing me back to the counter where a couple of customers were peering in the cabinets, deciding which of Bailey’s delicious treats to indulge in.

  I pushed my chair out from the table and stood up. “Duty calls. I’ll leave
you to it.”

  “Let us know what happens on the job front, won’t you?” Cassie said, smiling up at me.

  “I sure will!” I said, possibly overdoing the enthusiasm.

  Cassie shot me a quizzical look before I turned and walked back to the waiting customers, pushing the uncomfortable topic of my career out of my head. I’d deal with it later. And anyway, something just right for me was sure to pop up. What was that expression? “Good things come to those who wait.” That was it; I simply needed to be patient, like I was being with Marcus.

  After filling the customers’ orders, Jacob left to run some errands for Bailey and I leaned up against the kitchen doorframe and waited while she did some work on her laptop. She looked up at me with a furrowed brow.

  “How are you with numbers?” she asked.

  I shrugged, pushing myself off the frame and walking over to her. “Not bad. What are you trying to do?” I peered at a complicated, multicolored spreadsheet on her screen.

  “See this here?” She pointed at one of the columns. “It’s meant to show my weekly food profit minus spend and staff pay, but it’s not calculating anything. I feel like tearing my hair out!”

  “Here, let me have a look.” I moved the screen so I could see it more clearly and checked the cells. “It’s the formula. It’s calculated based on an empty cell here.” I pointed to the screen. “Is there something that’s meant to be in here?”

  “That’s weird. I don’t think so.”

  “Okay. What I’ll do is delete that part of the formula and we’ll see how it looks.” As I did so, the column changed in an instant, with numbers listed in long, neat rows.

  “Wow, that’s so great. Look, it all makes sense. Paige, you are a genius.”

  I shrugged, enjoying the feeling of being needed. “Hardly.” I laughed. “Did you set this spreadsheet up?”

  “No, Josh did.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Josh, as in Josh the guy who delivers the coffee?”

  “The one and only. He’s good with this sort of thing.”