I looked up into Eddie’s eyes. They were full of hope—and love.
In that moment, everything I had ever felt for him washed over me, lifting me up, making me see what I had been missing. The way he’d helped me grow, helped me become a woman. The way he’d made me feel so loved, so important.
He was my first love, the one I couldn’t forget. No one had come close to him.
No one had had the chance.
“I say, yes.” A smile teased the edges of my mouth until it was a full-blown, cheesy grin, spreading from ear to ear, the happiness threatening to spill right out of me.
“Really?” Eddie asked, his face alight with hope.
“Really.” I stepped into him, and he wrapped his arms around me in an embrace. When his lips touched mine, my heart felt as though it might explode.
He picked me up and spun me around as we both laughed, giddy in our rekindled love.
Being back in Eddie’s arms was everything I had ever wanted. And this time, it was going to stick. This time, we were going to be together forever.
Chapter 16
“Nash is such a nice guy,” Bailey said on Monday morning when I dropped into the Cozy Cottage Café to get a take-out coffee on my way back from a customer meeting with Antoinette.
“Yes, he is,” I replied, noncommittally.
I had yet to tell my friends about recent developments, and I was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room of rocking chairs to do so. I knew they wouldn’t be happy with me, despite the fact I had found the perfect guy. It’s just it wasn’t Nash.
“I’m so pleased you chose him. Not that I know what the other guys were like, of course, but it’s hard to imagine they could be better,” Bailey continued as I paid for a coffee for me and an orange juice for Antoinette, “or as cute,” she added with raised eyebrows.
I smiled weakly at her. “How was your weekend?” I asked, choosing to change the subject instead.
As she told me about working on Saturday and what movie she’d seen, my mind wandered back to where it had firmly been for the last forty-eight hours: Eddie. He and I had spent the rest of the weekend together. It had been everything I had hoped for. It had been pure bliss.
I let out a contented sigh. “You’ve got it bad,” Bailey commented, grinning at me.
“What? Oh, I was just thinking about work,” I lied, a knot forming in my belly.
“Is that what you’re calling Nash, is it?” Bailey replied with a wink. “Got it.”
I cleared my throat. Although I knew I would eventually need to tell my friends about the redirection of my affections, I didn’t want to do it today, especially not in front of Antoinette.
“Oh, and I have a date for the Cozy Cottage Jam open mic night, Friday, the twenty-fifth.”
“That’s only four weeks away!” I could feel the blood draining away from my face, a knot forming in my belly. Four weeks!
“I know. It’s not long. What I’ll do is give you the first slot of the night and then open it up to others. Did you want to do one or two songs?”
Antoinette ended her call and came to collect her orange juice. I glanced nervously at her.
“Oh, I had thought maybe just one?”
“Great. I’ll put you down to sing one. Paige is in charge of the advertising on social media and the website, and she’s already posted stuff, so I’m hoping for a good crowd.”
“Are you singing here?” Antoinette asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Yes, I am.” I smiled weakly at her, trying to feel positive about it.
My mind instantly darted to Nash. He was the one who had encouraged me to pursue my passion and sing. Now that I was with Eddie, he would miss my performance—as nice a guy as Nash was, I seriously doubted he’d want to come and see me sing after the conversation I planned on having with him later today.
A fresh pang of guilt hit me squarely in the gut.
Nash had sent me several messages over the weekend, checking in to see how I was feeling, offering to bring me chicken soup if I were still ill. I ignored them all, not knowing what to say to him now that I was back together with Eddie. I mean, I could hardly knock on his door and say, “Hey, Nash. Thanks for everything, but you’re dumped because I got a better offer from a guy I’ve been in love with since I was eighteen.”
Yeah, I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.
“Here you are,” Sophie said, handing me my cup of take-out coffee. “I can’t wait to hear you sing.”
“Me too,” Antoinette echoed.
I flashed them both a nervous smile as I took the coffee from Sophie. “I’m not sure if I’ll be any good, but I figured I’d give it a shot.”
“Good for you,” Sophie said with a warm smile. “Do you know what you’re going to sing?”
“‘Thinking Out Loud,’” I replied automatically, naming one of my favorite shower songs. In there, it sounded amazing. Would it here, in a roomful of people, all watching me, listening to every word I sang? I swallowed, the knot tightening in my belly.
“Oh, I love that song!” Sophie said. “I can’t wait.”
“Me, neither,” Antoinette said, collecting her bottle of juice from the counter. “Especially since this is your first time.”
I shot her a quizzical look.
“I mean, so that we can all support you,” she added hastily.
As we turned to leave, Paige came out from the kitchen, a tray of sliced cakes in her hands. “Hi, Marissa.” She had a huge smile on her face as she placed the tray on the counter in front of me. “Nash is spectacular! I’m so happy for you!”
Again, the guilt twisted inside. “He is.” I plastered on a fake smile, hoping my sweet friend wouldn’t notice. Nash was going to be so upset with me. I glanced down at the cakes. “Can I get a slice of the chocolate cake to go?”
“Not your usual?” Paige shot me a questioning look.
“Ah, no. I feel like a change today.” I shifted uncomfortably.
“Sure.” She picked up a slice and slipped it into a brown paper bag.
“I’ve never met a slice of Cozy Cottage cake I didn’t want to eat.”
“Here. On the house.” She handed me a slice.
I took the bag from her. “What’s that for?”
She shrugged, glancing at Bailey.
“We have a feeling about you two,” Bailey said. Standing next to Paige, both dressed in their fifties-inspired dresses and Cozy Cottage Café aprons, they looked like a couple of beautiful sisters from Peyton Place.
Again with the guilt. I decided to deflect. “Thank you both. Look, Antoinette and I need to get going. We’re meeting with a big customer. See you both later.”
I turned and left without a backward glance, feeling their eyes boring holes in my back. I would tell them about Eddie soon enough, and they would be happy for me—eventually.
We drove the short distance to Pukeko Chocolates where we met a nervous Bryce, my favorite tech guy, at the front of the building.
“I just saw Steve Bryant leave,” he said, his eyebrows drawn together.
“Oh,” I replied, biting my lip. “That’s not good.”
“Who’s Steve Bryant?” Antoinette asked, her eyes darting between Bryce and me.
“He’s Telco’s top sales person. And he was with that asshole, Mark Watson.”
“Who’s Mark Watson?”
“Only the worst person to walk the face of the earth,” Bryce replied, his jaw set.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. It was a little extreme, particularly for the mild-mannered Bryce. “Really?”
“Really.” Bryce’s nostrils flared, and I realized this was no joking matter.
“That sounds like a story,” I said.
“A story of betrayal.” Bryce’s face was grim.
“What did he do?” Antoinette asked, as riveted as I was.
“Let’s just say, winning this business just got personal,” Bryce replied, looking off into the distance like he was in some c
heesy action movie.
“Wow. Pretty serious.”
“If you call stealing my girlfriend and ruining my life serious, then yeah, this is serious.”
Although I had met Steve Bryant at several industry events, where he never failed to boast about his latest success while making my eyes water with his heavy cologne, I had no clue who Mark Watson was. But, in solidarity with Bryce, I already loathed him.
“Shall we do this?” I asked.
Bryce narrowed his eyes, squaring his narrow shoulders. “Oh, yes. Let’s do this.”
Like a trio of action heroes, intent on revenge—and to win some new business—we walked through the automatic glass doors into Pukeko Chocolates’ white, gleaming reception. With me in my typical pencil skirt and blouse combo, five foot five Bryce in his “I spend too much time gaming to bother with fashion” geek clothes and open-toed sandals, and Antoinette still imitating the Amish, we looked more like we were from a comedy than an action movie. But we were resolute, and we knew we had what it took.
We knew we needed to win this business for Bryce now. And we were determined to do it.
* * *
An hour and a half later, we reached the AGD offices and I went straight to Cassie’s office. She was on a call, but when she saw me, standing in her office doorway, she quickly ended it.
“How did it go?” she asked, standing up and walking around her desk.
“It went well.” I could feel the excitement rising inside.
“How well?” Cassie asked, her eyes narrowed.
“We don’t officially know yet because they told us they need to meet to discuss the shortlisted proposals.”
“Us and Telco?”
I nodded, pressing my lips together. “Steve Bryant.”
“Damn it!” Cassie replied, echoing my very thought when we’d seen him outside the customer earlier. She let out a puff of air. “Well, I suppose we can hope that gallon of aftershave he likes to wear gave them all allergies or something.”
I grinned at her. “I haven’t told you what happened next.”
Cassie’s face lit up. “What happened?”
“Well, after we had shaken hands and agreed they would come back to us in the next few days with a decision, Don Ackerman tracked us down at reception.”
“Don’s the head of purchasing, right?”
“Right. Anyway, it turns out he’s a family friend of Antoinette’s, and he told us—unofficially, of course—that we were easily the front-runners for their business.” I beamed at Cassie, my excitement threatening to overflow.
Cassie put her hand over her mouth, her eyes gleaming. “Go Antoinette’s family friend!”
“Cassie, I don’t want to get ahead of myself,” I said, totally getting ahead of myself, “but I think this one may be in the bag.”
Cassie returned my smile. “Great work, Marissa.”
I left Cassie’s office and floated back to my desk. Everything was coming together for me: bringing in a major new client, finally pursuing my singing passion, and Eddie coming back to me. My heart contracted at the thought of him. He had said the right words at the right time, and I had fallen straight back in love with him.
* * *
After such a successful morning at work, I was brought back down to earth with a thud when I met Nash for “the dreaded talk.” I knew I could have broken up with him over text, but he was too great a guy to do that to. So, I decided to “woman up” and do it in person. And I was not looking forward to it.
I had replied to his texts late on Sunday night, pleading a weekend of illness, and agreed to meet for a quick drink after work at O’Dowd’s.
I was as nervous as a turkey at Christmas when I walked through the door and into the dimly lit bar. I spotted Nash, standing with his back to me, talking with Buff behind the bar. I was instantly taken back to one of the Three Last First Dates I had in this very place, with Blaze, the protein-mad bodybuilding menswear shop assistant. I shook my head at the memory. That felt so long ago.
I watched Nash for a moment, plucking up my nerve. I had kept my contact with him light and breezy. For all he knew, we were meeting for a girlfriend-boyfriend drink. I chewed the inside of my lip. I was about to totally wreck his day.
With my nerves clanging, I walked over and stood next to him. As he turned to face me, my breath caught in my throat. Why did he have to have the sort of lips I wanted to kiss and kiss until my own lips were bruised? He smiled at me, and a bunch of Boy Scouts tightened the already large knot inside.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said, using the nickname he had begun to use for me. He slipped his arm around my waist and planted a slow and sexy kiss on my lips.
I closed my eyes, lost in it. I was powerless to resist. His scent, his touch, the way his arm felt through the fine fabric of my blouse. Everything about the way he kissed me was absolutely perfect. There was something about Nash I found irresistible. Well, almost.
Eddie. I had to think about Eddie.
I pulled away from him and glanced at the two Cokes sitting on the bar. “Is one of those for me?”
“Sure is. Let’s go and sit.” He picked the drinks up and began to walk toward the booth at the back of the bar where I had sat with Blaze, those few short weeks ago.
“How about here?” I suggested as we walked past a barrel with a handful of stools encircling it.
Nash shrugged. “Sure.” He put the drinks on the barrel table, and we sat down. “It’s great to see you looking better. The headache’s all gone?”
“Mm-hm.” I tried my best to appear normal, as though I hadn’t been lying to him all weekend and I wasn’t about to drop a bombshell on him when he least expected it. Behind the table, I clasped my hands.
“Fantastic.” He reached for one of my hands, and I let him pull it in toward himself. “How was your day?”
I thought of the successful meeting I’d had with Pukeko Chocolates. I wanted to tell him all about it, to listen to his encouragement, but I knew I needed to get this over with—for his sake, as well as for my own.
“Nash, I—” I began. The skin around his eyes crinkled in a smile, and I was forced to look down at the table. “I have to tell you something.”
“What is it?”
I swallowed, my throat dry. I reached for my Coke and took a large sip, the bubbles climbing up into my nose, making my eyes water.
Nash chuckled. “You drank that too fast, didn’t you?” he said gently as he reached out to put his hand on my cheek.
I put my hand on his and lowered it to the table. I pressed my lips together. “Nash, I need to say something.”
He furrowed his brow. “It’s not another freak-out, is it? Marissa, I told you, we can handle those.”
“No, it’s not. And I’m really sorry.” I looked up at him as real tears stung my eyes. This was hard, so much harder than I thought it would have been.
He retreated from me, leaning away on his stool. “You’re breaking up with me.” It was a statement, not a question.
I nodded, holding my breath. “I’m sorry.”
His jaw locked—only serving to make him look even more like the stoic Jon Snow—he pulled his hand away from me. “Why?”
I chewed the inside of my lip, my heart actually aching. “My boyfriend from a long time ago. He came back to me.”
“When?”
“I saw him at the weekend.”
“Was he your ‘headache’?” he asked, his fingers in the air doing air quotes.
I gave a slow nod. Lying to Nash was the last thing I had wanted to do.
“I see.”
I looked up at his face and then immediately looked down, a stab of hurt cutting through me. He glared back at me, and if I could have, I would have shriveled up and disappeared from his sight.
He stood up, the stool falling behind him onto the hard floor, landing with a clang.
I could feel his eyes on me. I knew he was angry. I knew I had hurt him.
“I’m so sorry,” I
breathed, stealing a look at him.
He nodded, his lips—the lips I had kissed only moments ago—pressed into a thin line. “Me too.”
I watched, barely able to breathe, as he turned his back to me, stepped over the fallen barstool, and stomped out of the bar, the door swooshing shut behind him. I sat still, rooted to my spot, my heart slamming against my chest.
Part of me wanted to run after him, fall to my knees, and beg him to forgive me, to forget what I had said, asking him to stay with me. And then I thought of Eddie and I knew, despite the hurt, the pain, I had done the right thing, the only thing.
As if activated by some cosmic force, my phone began to ring in my purse. In a daze, I reached in and pulled it out, seeing the name “Eddie” appear on the screen.
“Hey,” I said into the receiver.
“Hi. Have you done it?”
At the sound of Eddie’s voice, my face creased up and the tears flowed. “Yes,” I replied, my voice quavering.
In the interest of full-disclosure, I had told Eddie about Nash. He had been upset I was involved with someone else and had asked me to end it as soon as possible, which is what I had done.
“Good. Come over to see me.”
“Okay.” I hung up and took another sip of my Coke.
What was done was done. I knew it was for the best, even if my heart felt like it was breaking in two.
Chapter 17
I pulled up outside Eddie’s place with my mascara smeared down my face. I peered in the visor mirror and rubbed under my eyes, trying my best not to appear like I was auditioning for Panda: The Musical. If such a show existed.
I touched up my face with my compact, applying some lipstick and fluffing out my bobbed hair. Eddie had always encouraged me to look my best, saying how I could light up a room when I was properly put together, and I wanted him to see me looking good tonight—even if I felt like a piece of crap stuck to the bottom of my shoe.
Try as I might, I couldn’t get the look on Nash’s face from my mind. He looked . . . wounded, like I’d hurt him deeply. The pangs of guilt returned with a vengeance.
Three Last First Dates Page 15
