Two Last First Dates Read online

  “All right.” I wracked my brain for something else. “Did he come in here at lunch two days ago?”

  Bailey’s eyes shot up to the ceiling as she thought. “Yes, yes I think he did.”

  It was Marcus! My belly did a flip-flop, and I was glad I was sitting down—otherwise I might have actually swooned.

  “Can I ask anything else about him?” I asked once I’d recovered.

  “No! You already know too much. You’ll need to be patient and trust us,” Bailey said.

  I could be patient. Well, for a short while, anyway. I grinned, excitement pinging around my body. I was going to go on a date with cute and sexy Marcus. A Last First Date. Things could not be better.

  Chapter 9

  I FLOATED AROUND ON Cloud Nine for the next few days, hoping—okay, praying with all my might—everything Marissa and Bailey had found out about this guy they wanted to keep secret from me was good. Only, I knew it was Marcus, so it had to be, of course. He was cute, totally my type, and had already told me he was going to ask me out. Not that I’d mentioned that to them, of course. I wanted them to feel like they were in control of this. If I told them about us, I’d take the fun out of it all for them.

  I was sitting with Dad in the living room after dinner, watching another reality cooking show. Some poor schmucks had burned their desserts and were on the end of some nasty comments from the judges, one of them sobbing her heart out.

  My mind began to wander to my current job situation—or, rather, lack thereof. Although I loved working at the café, it wasn’t exactly my career. I reached by the side of the chair and lifted my laptop up onto my lap. I needed to find another marketing job, only one that didn’t bore the pants off me like my last one did. I pulled up the available positions listed with one of the recruiters I’d registered with and scrolled through the roles. Email Marketing Assistant? Bleh. Email Marketing Manager? Bleh bleh. Marketing Analyst? I snapped my laptop shut. Although I knew I’d need to start applying for some jobs soon, I couldn’t get my fingers to click on the job descriptions. It all felt so . . . well, bleh.

  What was I going to do? I needed to find another job soon. Just, I had no idea what I actually wanted to do with my life anymore.

  As if by some cosmic coincidence, my current “boss”—although she was about as far from Portia’s overmanaging, overcontrolling, over-everything-ness as any one person could be—Bailey’s name flashed on my screen.

  “Paige, I need your help.” She sounded stressed. “Do you think you could do some more shifts at the café? I’m in a bit of a staff pickle.”

  The thought of spending more time at the Cozy Cottage was a pleasant one. I enjoyed the food prep, working with Bailey, and feeling part of something worthwhile. It was busy, never a dull moment for someone who’d spent the last few months in a veritable haze of boredom. Plus, there was the chance to see Marcus again while Bailey and Marissa vetted him for our big date.

  “Of course. When do you need me?”

  “You are a life saver, Paige. I cannot tell you.”

  We agreed I would come in to work several days over the coming week while Bailey kept looking for a more permanent replacement. She told me getting quality staff who stuck around was the hardest thing about running a café. I was happy to help out while I tried to work out what to do with my life.

  I slid my laptop back down against the chair and returned my attention to the TV. The sobbing cook now looked inconsolable, as her partner stared grimly at the camera, predicting certain doom.

  “They’re for the chop,” Dad pronounced.

  My phone rang again, and I flipped it over to look at the screen. My heart leapt into my mouth. It was Marcus. In a moment of positive visualization, I had saved his contact name as “My Last First Date.” When it flashed on my screen, I jumped up, clean out of my seat, and rushed from the room. Dad probably thought my pants had caught fire or something.

  I raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and into my bedroom, where I tried to steady myself before pressing “answer.”

  “Hello?” I breathed, still catching my breath.

  “Hi, is that Paige?” Marcus asked at the other end.

  “Yes, it is.” I was pretending I had no idea who he was and I got calls from hot men all the time. Which, sadly, was about as far from the truth as I could get.

  “It’s Marcus here, from the café.”

  “Hi there, Marcus from the café.” I tried to find the right balance between being happy to hear from him and desperation. It was a surprisingly fine line.

  “How are those dishes? Any abuse you need to report to me?” he teased.

  “Yes, I have to admit there have been some goings on. Nothing too sinister, but I did notice someone let their dog lick a plate clean yesterday. Does that constitute abuse?”

  “No, that constitutes gross.”

  I let out a laugh. With all my pent-up adrenaline, it came out in a gush and I launched straight into a coughing fit, having to put my hand over the receiver. Once I’d finally recovered my equilibrium, I spluttered, “Sorry about that. My gin and tonic must have gone down the wrong way.”

  “A G&T, huh? Classy.”

  “That’s just the way I roll.” Actually, I’d been drinking a post-pot roast cup of tea with Dad in front of MasterChef, but Marcus didn’t need to know that.

  We flirted and messed about, and I have to say, I loved every moment of it. If my cell phone had one of those long, curly cables, like you see in old movies, I’d have been winding it around my finger as I giggled and flirted my ass off with him. I’d been hurt when Will had chosen Cassie over me, but meeting someone new, with all the possibility of him, had mended my broken heart well and truly.

  Why had I ever decided to give up on love?

  “Hey, so I was wondering, I get off dish inspection some evenings. Want to go out?”

  I punched the air, pressing my lips together so I didn’t squeal. I wanted to scream “Yes, yes, a thousand gazillion times yes!” but I couldn’t. My hands were tied. Until Marissa and Bailey had finished their vetting and set us up together, I couldn’t go out on a date with Marcus. Until then, I had to put him off without completely putting him off, if you know what I mean.

  I closed my eyes and beamed. “I would love that.” I held my breath.

  “Awesome. How’s Friday night for you?”

  “This Friday? Let me think. Oh, yeah, I have a thing. Sorry.”

  “Sure.” Did I detect a note of disappointment in his voice?

  “But I would really love to go out with you another time,” I gushed.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  I pictured him smiling into his phone, thinking about me. Maybe he was in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, lounging on a recliner by his pool, the evening sun low in the sky, casting a warm glow over his beautiful olive skin. Maybe he was even shirtless on the recliner by the pool. Mm, shirtless Marcus. I sighed. I had no idea whether he even had a recliner, let alone a pool, but it was my fantasy and I was running with it.

  “When can I see you, then?”

  “Can I get back to you? I’ve got some things going on right now.” Like having you vetted by my super-sleuth spy-friends. “Is that okay?”

  “Sure. I’ll hold you to it. Perhaps I’ll see you at that café of yours again.”

  I hung up and lay back on my bed. I couldn’t have wiped the grin off my face if I’d been offered a million bucks. Someday soon, I was going to go on my Last First Date with the swoon-worthy Marcus Hahn. I could barely believe my luck.

  * * *

  I was pulling a tray full of cheese, bacon, and chive muffins out of the large oven the following morning when Josh arrived, his usual box of beans held out in front of him.

  “Morning, Paige,” he said brightly as I opened the door to let him in.

  “Hey, Josh. Gorgeous day.” It was one of those crisp, clear early-fall days we get in Auckland, a time of the year when the humidity is mercifully low and the days begin to sho
rten as we hurtle toward winter.

  He brushed past me and into the storage area where he deposited his box of beans. “Yeah. I was out for a run this morning on the beach. It was stunning out there.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know you were a runner?” Actually, I didn’t know anything about him at all, other than the fact he delivered the coffee beans and liked Bailey’s Mexican chicken tortilla soup.

  He walked back into the kitchen. “Mm. They smell good.”

  “They do, don’t they? I’d sneak you one, but I might get in trouble with the boss.”

  He grinned at me, and I was struck by how unexpectedly cute he looked. Huh, I’d never noticed.

  “With Bailey? Nah, she’s a total pussycat.” He reached down and picked a muffin up out of the tray, immediately dropping it. “Ow! That’s hot.”

  I laughed. “Serves you right, trying to steal one.” I glanced down at his T-shirt. I cocked an eyebrow as I read it. “‘It’s a brew-tiful day’? Seriously?”

  He shrugged. “What’s wrong with ‘It’s a brew-tiful day’? It is, we just agreed.”

  “Isn’t it a little cheesy?”

  “Paige, it’s cheesier than a Frenchman’s fridge, but I’m okay with it.”

  I chortled. “If you say so.”

  “Hey, what about you? Do you run?”

  “I have been known to in the deep, distant past, yes. Plus, I’ve kind of agreed to do this run with a couple of my friends. Something to do with color?”

  “Oh, The Color Run. That’s awesome fun.”

  Running was hard enough without people throwing powdered colors in your face, in my opinion. “Well, I’ve put on a bit of weight lately, so I need to try and run it off, but my friends train after work and I’m totally spent by then.”

  His eyes scanned my body. It felt . . . unusual.

  “I don’t see why. You look great to me.” He smiled and something tingled in my chest. “But exercising is great for you, as we all know. Do you want to come on a run with me tomorrow? I head out early, but then I guess you start pretty early anyway.”

  I took in his tall, lean, runner’s build. “I’m not sure I’m fit enough to keep up with you.” Scratch that: I was certain I wasn’t fit enough to keep up with him.

  He leaned against the kitchen counter. “Ah, come on. I don’t go that fast, and you need to train, right?” I nodded reluctantly. “I’ll tell you what, if you hate it, you don’t have to come out with me again.”

  As if my body was trying to send me a message, I became suddenly aware of how tight the band on my vintage bell-bottom jeans felt across my hips.

  I shrugged. “Sure. It can’t hurt.” Plus, I wanted to look the best I could for my impending date with Marcus.

  Josh pushed himself off from the counter and pulled his phone out from the back pocket of his jeans. “Cool. What’s your number?”

  I gave it to him, and he grinned at me before turning to leave. “I’ll text you. Well, gotta go. These beans won’t deliver themselves, you know. Even though, that would be funny to see little marching beans, walking in a line.” He smiled at me. “What? Nothing?”

  I shook my head, laughing lightly. It was a weak joke. Before he disappeared out the back door, I called, “Josh? Catch.”

  He turned, just in time, to catch the warm, airborne cheese, bacon, and chive muffin I’d launched at him. As quick as the Flash himself, he caught it, shooting me a grin as he disappeared out the door.

  “Was that Josh?” Bailey breezed into the kitchen a second later.

  “Yep. Delivering the beans.”

  “Dammit. I needed to talk to him.”

  “What about? I’m seeing him tomorrow. I could mention it, if you like.”

  She raised her eyebrows at me. “You’re seeing him tomorrow, are you?”

  I brushed her insinuation away with my hand. “It’s nothing. He invited me on a run, that’s all. I’m training for The Color Run, remember?”

  She nodded and smiled at me. “Sounds fun. Now, if you can get those muffins out, we’re almost ready to open up.”

  And so the day went with the breakfast crowd first up, with their bacon and egg paninis and smashed avocado and tomatoes on toast, followed by the pre-work takeout coffees, through to the morning coffee and cake gang.

  And there were a lot of customers with coffee coupons. Each time someone handed one over to me, I felt a little surge of pride. With Bailey’s permission—and pocketbook—I’d promoted the offer on Facebook, and by day two, the Cozy Cottage page had received over a thousand likes and even a handful of positive reviews—and only one of them was from me. People had been liking our website, and I’d been posting photos of the gorgeous cakes and muffins on Instagram.

  In a quiet moment, I collected the growing pile of coupons and waved them in the air in front of Bailey in the kitchen. “Check these babies out.”

  “Wow.” She took them from me, and I watched as she did a rough count. “That’s a lot of free coffee. I think I’m happy about this.”

  “Sometimes you’ve got to give a little to get a lot. I bet you my week’s wages at least half of the customers who brought those in will return soon. Plus, I’ve been up-selling them on the food. We may need to bake considerably more if this keeps up.”

  Bailey’s face broke into a smile. “It’s a brave new world, that’s for sure. I’m going to run the numbers tonight, so we can gauge how we’re doing.”

  “Do you need a hand with that?” I offered. I’d dealt with a fair few spreadsheets in my time.

  “No, I’ll be fine. Josh has set something up for me. If you get a panicked text late tonight, you’ll know things didn’t go well.”

  Josh again? He sure did like helping Bailey out. Huh. Perhaps he was in love with her? That could explain a lot.

  I returned to the counter, working alongside Sophie, one of the café’s baristas, collecting more coupons and handing out a lot of coffees and snacks. At about half past ten, Cassie and Marissa turned up for their usuals and I was only able to grab about three seconds with them, catching up on their news.

  “Oh, but he’s so cute!” Marissa declared as I placed her orange and almond syrup cake and latte in front of her.

  “Who is?” I asked.

  “Oh, just this guy who’s joined the team,” Cassie explained. “Marissa thinks he looks like that guy who played Superman, but I don’t see it.”

  I put Cassie’s raspberry chocolate cake and coffee in front of her, tucking the tray under my arm.

  “Henry Cavill. And he does,” Marissa said dreamily. She sighed. “I think I’m going to start the vetting process on him.”

  I sucked in air. We all knew what “the vetting process” meant: Marissa was planning to go on her One Last First Date with this Superman look-a-like. “You are?”

  She nodded, looking serious and excited in equal measure. “I am.”

  I glanced at Cassie with wide eyes. She shot me a knowing look. You see, the thing was, Marissa was legendary in her fussiness over men. She would start out all gung ho and ready to see the best in a guy, and then he would do or say something or she’d notice something about him that she didn’t like and wham! she would drop him without a moment’s hesitation. The guy would be left stunned and bewildered, wondering what on earth had just happened.

  I kind of felt sorry for the guys.

  I glanced around the café. Noting Sophie was coping just fine with the few customers left at the counter, I pulled out a chair and sat down at their table. “Oh, my god,” I said, looking from Marissa to Cassie.

  Marissa nodded. “I know. So far, he’s looking pretty good.”

  “So far?” Cassie asked.

  “Mmm-hmm. I kind of already started vetting him.”

  My eyes bulged. “You’re totally serious about this one.”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, that’s so exciting.” I could barely believe Marissa was planning on making this guy her One Last First Date. This was big. Huge!

  I tur
ned to Cassie. “What do you think of him?”

  She shrugged. “He seems like a good guy. I mean, I employed him, so I know he’s not a slippery character or anything.”

  “A ‘slippery character’? What are we, in some kind of gangster movie from the fifties?” Marissa said with a laugh.

  “Yeah, tell Pistol Pete and Scarface the guy’s okay,” I said with a sneer in my best Chicago accent, although I was pretty sure Francis Ford Coppola wouldn’t be hiring me anytime soon.

  “Can you tell me some things about him? I mean, you know a lot more than I do already,” Marissa asked Cassie.

  Cassie shook her head. “Sorry, but no. I have to keep the personal information he gave me as part of the interview process confidential.”

  “Why do you have to be so ethical?” Marissa complained. “I guess I’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.”

  “Stalk him?” I offered.

  “Exactly,” Marissa replied with a grin. “It’s going to be fun.”

  I glanced over at the growing line of customers at the counter. Sophie looked like she needed my help. I stood up to leave. “Eat your cakes, ladies. They’re extra good today, I promise. And I want to hear all about him, okay?”

  Marissa nodded, biting her lip. “Okay.”

  I reached the counter and immediately started helping Sophie serve more customers. This was one of our busy times at the café, and Sophie, Bailey, and I were flat out.

  I’d had my head down so much, I hadn’t noticed Bailey chatting to a tall man in a navy suit by the café door. He had his back to me, but I could tell from their body language they were involved in a serious conversation.

  I continued to serve a customer, who wanted a chocolate chip muffin and a pot of tea—tea I could manage, whereas coffee was still a whole other country to me—and when she left to sit at a table, I caught sight of the man as he turned to leave. He looked directly at me, and I could feel my cheeks instantly heat up. Marcus. My tummy flip-flopped at the sight of him. He grinned at me and I smiled back, hoping he would come over and flirt with me some more, despite the fact it was hectic in the café right now. But instead, he turned back to Bailey, said something to her, and disappeared out the door.