The Little Brooklyn Bakery Page 9

  ‘Don’t you worry, honey,’ said Maisie, patting her on the arm. ‘We’ve all been there. We’ll look after you. You’ll find your feet in no time. Pretty gal like you will have the boys falling on their butts for you.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Edie. ‘And only half of them will be complete idiots.’

  Right on cue, Ed shot to his feet and collapsed dramatically, writhing on the floor.

  ‘See,’ said Edie, laughing affectionately and bending to tickle Ed in the ribs.

  On Monday, as she snagged the last seat on the subway, Sophie still felt warm all over after the previous day in the bakery. Bella’s friends’ unconditional welcome had been like an enveloping hug and this morning she was ready to take on the world, or Manhattan, at the very least.

  When the phone on Todd’s desk rang, Charlene’s now-familiar voice definitely made her feel as if she’d been there forever.

  ‘Hi Charlene.’

  ‘Hey Sophie. Don’t tell me, he’s not in yet? I guess it’s still early.’

  Sophie gave her watch a sceptical glance. It was well after eleven.

  ‘Can you tell him I called? Honestly … he is so hard to pin down.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Sophie, trying to sound helpful, when all she wanted to do was to tell the girl to cut her losses. ‘I’ll leave him a message.’

  ‘Thanks, you’re a doll.’

  And you’re a poor misguided fool, she thought as she put the phone down.

  ‘Hey English.’

  ‘Do you have some sixth sense that tells you when I’ve hung up on one of your harem?’

  He shrugged. ‘What can I say? It’s karma.’

  ‘Karma is supposed to happen to good people.’

  ‘Aw Sophie, who told you I was a bad person? For that, I won’t share the cappuccino with chocolate sprinkles I brought up for you.’ He held up two cardboard cups with lids on.

  Disarmed, Sophie shook her head at him. ‘Thank you. Your sixth sense for coffee is equally good.’

  ‘What can I say? It’s a skill. Although you are very predictable, English. You like your routine.’

  ‘I’m …’ Sophie laughed. ‘Yes, I am. I like my mid-morning coffee.’

  ‘You going to share those cookies hiding in your drawer?’

  ‘Nothing gets by you, does it?’ She opened the desk drawer and pulled out the small tin of shortbread left over from the biscuit testing the previous week. She still couldn’t bring herself to refer to them as cookies, especially not when they were shortbread. As she took a bite of the melt-in-the-mouth buttery biscuits, she wondered how they’d go down with Bella’s customers.

  ‘Mmmm,’ said Todd, snagging a second one before she could close the tin. ‘So how was the rest of your weekend?’ he asked.

  ‘Good, thanks,’ Sophie smiled as she thought of the laughter and teasing in Bella’s kitchen. It had been a while since she’d laughed so much. ‘I met a few of Bella’s friends and your laundry lady. A woman of few words. But I think I might be in love.’ Picking up a bundle of fresh-smelling, still warm, folded clothes was something of a revelation.

  ‘Ah the lovely Wendy. And did you do any exp—’

  ‘Morning, guys.’

  ‘Hey Paul. Haven’t seen you down here for a while. Slumming it?’ Todd gave him a friendly slap on the back.

  Paul nodded at Todd and then turned to Sophie, giving her a warm, very direct smile which made her feel a little flustered.

  ‘Or are you after tickets for the Yankees game?

  ‘No, thanks man. I’m playing in the squash tournament. But if you’ve got any for the Mets versus Yankee game coming up, I might clear a window. I came to see Sophie.’ He turned to her and gave her another smile, the sort that felt like you’d been caught in a lighthouse beam. ‘I’ve been thinking about your afternoon tea feature and the hygge thing and I wondered if you fancied a coffee so that I can pick your brains?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Erm … when?’ She lifted her half-drunk coffee. ‘I’m kind of …’

  Paul pulled out his phone and scrolled through the screen. ‘How about over drinks after work? I’m free this evening.’

  ‘OK. Sure.’

  ‘I’ll swing by about six. There’s a nice place across the street.’

  Sophie heard Todd tut under his breath.

  ‘There are no nice places across the street,’ said Todd.

  Paul pushed his hands into the pockets of his smart suit trousers, a patient look on his face, as he shot an amused smirk Sophie’s way. ‘OK, Mr Man About Town. Where do you suggest?’

  ‘There’s a great place opened in Williamsburg. Craft beers and gin. I bet English here loves her gin.’

  Sophie was about to nod enthusiastically, she was definitely rather partial to a midweek cheeky gin and tonic in London. For a brief second she was almost felled by the unexpected wave of homesickness. A gin would have gone down a treat but before she could say anything, Paul shook his head.

  ‘Williamsburg? Brooklyn? McLennan, man, you’ve got to be kidding. Why would I want to schlepp all the way over there? Hipster city. No thanks. I’m not interested in joining the beardy brigade. Manhattan is where it’s at.’

  Todd’s mouth tightened. ‘Your loss.’

  ‘Sorry man, I forgot you like to slum it out that way. No offence, but it’s not my scene.’ Paul punched him on the arm. ‘Nice try, but Sophie’s English, she probably likes a bit of class when someone takes her out for a drink. Not so Man About Town after all.’

  With a shrug Todd sat down at his desk and within seconds was engrossed with something on the screen.

  Paul turned to Sophie, again the full beam of his attention focused on her. ‘I’ll swing by and pick you up at about six-forty-five

  ‘Six-forty-five?’ repeated Sophie faintly. She was normally well on her way home by then. What was she going to do in the office for an extra forty-five minutes?

  ‘See you later. See you, Todd. And keep me posted on those tickets.’

  Todd gave him a casual wave, not looking up from his laptop.

  ‘He likes you,’ observed Todd a few minutes later, still focused on the screen in front of him.

  Sophie swallowed. ‘I’m sure it’s just work.’

  Todd looked up and raised an exaggerated eyebrow. ‘A nice place across the street? Jeez. He hasn’t got a clue. And if he took you to Brooklyn, you wouldn’t have so far to travel home on your own. He could even see you home.’

  ‘Like I said, it’s just work.’

  Todd snorted. ‘If you think so, English. Paul doesn’t come down here that often. He’s scented new blood. Bit like a shark. You’re fresh meat.’

  ‘Charming,’ said Sophie, surprised by the unexpected sting his words dealt to her feminine pride.

  With a sudden start, he pulled an apologetic face. ‘I didn’t mean you’re not, you know …’

  Sophie raised an imperious eyebrow, waiting for him to finish. She might not be gracing the front of a magazine anytime soon but she wasn’t a complete heffer either.

  ‘In fact you’re very …’ Todd turned a delicate shade of pink.

  She responded with a distinct snap in her voice, although why should she care what Todd McLennan thought of her? ‘Thanks, nice to know.’

  ‘Shit, sorry Sophie. Look, I’m around this weekend. Why don’t I give you a tour of Brooklyn?’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.’

  At six-thirty Sophie left her desk, clutching her handbag and an H&M carrier bag and retired to the ladies. The office was virtually empty and Todd had disappeared mid-afternoon, although his jacket was still draped over his chair.

  Driven by something, OK, that feminine pride again, she’d made a rare foray out at lunchtime and had been relieved to see the familiar store. Whipping off her plain cream jumper, she put on the newly purchased pretty lacy top and for some reason she took extra care with her make-up, making sure that it was perfect, using a little more than usual. She was going out, w
hy not? With a final tug she pulled her hair out of its loose bun and let the blonde curls tumble down, fluffing them up with her fingers.

  With one last look in the mirror, she gave herself a determined smile, mouthing ‘Fresh meat.’ Huh, she’d show Todd McLennan.

  When she returned, Todd was leaning against his desk, tapping away at his phone.

  ‘Hey English.’ As he looked up, his smile dimmed and for a moment he looked disconcerted, which gave Sophie a brief smug moment of satisfaction. ‘You look … nice. Paul phoned down, he’s running late. Some meeting running over. He’ll be here around seven-fifteen.’

  ‘Oh right, thanks.’ Sophie swallowed, feeling less smug and a bit foolish. Paul wanted to pick her brains, that was all. She’d completely misread those flirty, eye-meet, full-on smiles. Was she really that desperate to prove that after James, someone might find her attractive again? Chewing at her lip, she sat down at her desk, wondering whether to switch her laptop back on and start work again but her heart wasn’t really in it.

  She began to tidy her desk, scanning through her in-tray. There were a few memos and meeting dates she needed to take note of and a couple of press releases and invitations to launch events to consider.

  ‘Got any of that shortbread left, English?’ Todd put his phone down and sat down at his desk, pulling his overflowing in-tray towards him. ‘I need some strength to sort this lot out.’

  With a smile, she reached into her desk and pulled out the tin. There was one solitary sugar-dusted triangle left. ‘Hmm, I think the mice have been at it today.’

  He grinned at her. ‘A man’s got to eat. Do you think you could make some more?’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ She pulled a wry face. ‘Although I think it’s going to take more than sugar to do your filing.’

  Todd picked up the stack of paper and dropped it with a thud on his desk.

  ‘Most of it can go in the bin. It’s mainly press releases, but there are some invites to launches and things.’ He lifted the top one. ‘June 29th, launch of Paws for Thought. Introducing mindfulness classes for stressed-out pets.’

  ‘What? You are joking?’ Sophie frowned, trying to decide whether he was serious.

  ‘Nope, you’re not in Kansas any more. Welcome to the Big Apple. How about this one?’ His eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘You’ll like this. Vajazzle with Dazzle invites you to the launch of this season’s rhinestone cowboy designs.’

  Sophie shuddered. ‘Ugh, no.’

  ‘Ah, this one’s more up your street. Flavour sensations. Come along and taste over a hundred exotic fruits, rare herbs and interesting spices from around the world.’ He pushed over the pineapple-shaped invitation card.

  ‘That does look interesting. Thanks.’

  ‘See, don’t say I don’t spoil you. In fact, here, take a look. See if there’s anything else you fancy?’ He halved his pile and pushed it across to her desk before adding, ‘And let me know if there’s anything you think might interest me.’

  Sophie tipped her head on one side, unable to hide her smile. ‘So basically, you want me to help you with your filing?’

  He grinned unrepentantly. ‘That’s about the size of it, English.’

  ‘Oh go on, then.’ It was impossible to stay cross with Todd for any length of time. Besides, she had half an hour to kill.

  At seven-fifteen, Sophie was giggling as Todd, hamming it up for all he was worth, read out another bizarre press release about a new range of men’s support tights, when the phone rang on his desk, making them both jump. She’d completely forgotten the time as they’d worked through his pile, most of it going into the bin.

  Todd handed the handset over to her. ‘Paul.’

  ‘Hi Paul.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. My meeting has dragged on. I’ve got a few more bits to do but I could be with you just after seven-thirty. You know how it is.’

  ‘Mm,’ said Sophie, wishing she’d known how it was about an hour ago. ‘Maybe we can catch up another time. It sounds as if you’ve got a lot on.’

  ‘It’s all go on the way to the top. I could do with staying for another hour, to be honest.’

  ‘No problem,’ said Sophie, stifling her irritation.

  ‘You’re a star. Thanks for being so understanding.’ He paused and then said, his voice lowering, ‘Why don’t I do this properly? I’d like to take you out to dinner. I’d like to get to know you a bit better. And I should have done that first instead of pretending I wanted to talk work.’

  She let out a gentle laugh, charmed by his admission and conscious of Todd opposite her listening in with a sceptical look on his face. ‘Now that sounds like a better plan.’

  ‘Let’s sync our diaries, tomorrow. I’ll call you. Night, Sophie.’

  ‘Night, Paul.’ She put down the phone, realising what she’d just agreed was tantamount to going on a date.

  ‘Blown you out?’ asked Todd, his mouth curling.

  ‘No.’ Sophie smiled, still touched by Paul’s words and the little butterflies dancing in her stomach. She wasn’t sure she was ready to date, not after James, but she couldn’t deny that it was flattering to be asked. ‘We agreed to rearrange.’

  ‘You headed home then? I’ll see you back and check in with Bels.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Sophie’s mind was elsewhere. Picturing dinner with Paul. What would she wear? What would she say? It had been years since she’d been out with anyone other than James. Was she doing the right thing? But she had to start somewhere. Why not here in New York? There was no one to see her if she made a fool of herself. It would be temporary. It would be dipping her toe back in the water. And after someone like James, she didn’t need to worry about her heart being damaged again. It was still so torn up, nothing could do any more harm. Not that she would let anyone come close for a very long time.

  ‘Earth to English. You coming?’ His voice had dropped and when she looked up she caught him staring at her, a strange intense expression on his face. Her heart did a funny little salmon leap in her chest. Flustered, she made herself busy, checking her bag for her subway ticket, looking in her purse and realising that she’d agreed to travel back to Brooklyn with him.

  Ready at last, she stood up. He’d pulled on his jacket and was waiting for her. He flashed her his usual thousand-kilowatt smile and her pulse stuttered. Every now and then it hit her how damn good looking he was. Irritated with the stupid shallow observation and the ridiculous bubbling feeling in her stomach, she grabbed her bag.

  ‘Let’s go,’ she said, deliberately business-like and brisk.

  ‘Looks like she’s still working,’ observed Sophie as they came up to the front of the bakery. The shop was empty of customers but the lights in the kitchen were on and there was a shadowy figure behind the counter.

  Their subway journey home had been a painless ride now that rush hour had died down and to Sophie’s relief, they’d fallen into an easy discussion when she’d spotted he was reading Jack Kerouac’s The Road. Having seen the film recently – on her own, as usual, since James never wanted to go to the pictures (probably because he’d already been with his wife) – she was interested to find out what he thought of the bleak story.

  Todd followed her as she pushed open the still-open door of the bakery.

  ‘Hey, Sophie, how is it going?’ asked Wes, his big rumbling voice very quiet as he wiped his hands on a tea towel before stepping out from behind the counter. ‘Todd.’

  ‘Good. Where’s Bella?’

  Wes’s face crumpled in concern and he jerked his head towards the kitchen. ‘She’s taking a moment.’

  ‘Is she OK?’

  A slight hint of panic darted in his eyes and his mouth pulled that I have no idea what to say that’s not going to get me into trouble shape. ‘Kinda. I’ve been helping to hold the fort.’

  It didn’t occur to Sophie not to go straight in to see Bella. She seemed to have a gene which made her incapable of not offering to help.

  She found Bella in the kitche
n, her hair tied up in a blue gingham scarf, head on her forearms on the stainless-steel table.

  ‘Don’t tell me it’s not hygienic. I don’t care,’ she intoned without raising her head.

  ‘I wasn’t planning to.’

  Bella looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and baggy. ‘Sophie. Sorry. Didn’t know it was you.’

  ‘I came to say hello. Are you OK? Is there anything I can do to help?’

  ‘Stop me being so damn successful.’ Bella shook her head. ‘Crazy. For the last three months, I’ve been working for a break like this. Today … the phone has not stopped. Mrs Baydon has some serious friends. The rainbow cakes for her nephew’s coming-out party have been a major hit. Which is great but … four cupcake commissions. Hell, I can’t turn them down. I need to figure out when I’m going to find time to bake five hundred cakes, run the café and come up with the preliminary designs for a wedding cake by next Saturday. It’s a seriously big break for me, top-notch society wedding. The cake has got to be a showstopper that everyone is going to talk about. And get my name out there. And I haven’t got a single original, creative idea at the moment.’ Bella sank her head back into her arms. ‘I’m being a wimp. Ignore me. I’m tired and emotional. Damn hormones all over the place. Bastards.’

  ‘So what you’re basically saying is that you need a shit-hot assistant, who can bake like a dream when she’s not at the day job. And someone who interned on a wedding magazine one summer and can brainstorm wedding-cake ideas until the cows come home.’ Sophie hopped up onto the stainless-steel top next to her, swinging her legs as she looked at Bella, whose head shot up like a startled ostrich.

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sophie nodded, delighted she could help.

  ‘You know I’m going to take shameless advantage of you and I really can’t afford to pay you.’

  ‘Bella,’ Sophie put on her assertive voice, one that didn’t come out that often. ‘I want to help.’

  ‘Well, I’m not going to say no.’

  ‘Actually, there is a payback.’ She’d realised last week that it was all very well suggesting parkin, but she was going to have to do some playing with the recipe to get it right, as they didn’t sell exactly the same ingredients in America. ‘Can I use your kitchen to do some recipe testing?’