I sighed. Chloë was completely normal most of the time, but she occasionally swerved into academic detours, which was fine unless you were trying to find out something as I was.
“So, it’s legit. A NHL player lives around here.”
Since Kingston was so small, everyone must know him. No wonder he acted so confident, he was self-assured way beyond his age. Or his looks.
Chloë nodded slowly. “I guess. I don’t know anything about hockey, so I wasn’t really following.”
“So, Andrew you said? What does he look like?”
“He’s got brown hair, dark-rimmed glasses. Today he was wearing an old Hip t-shirt and plaid shorts.”
Hmm, tall, dark, and indie? Sounded like a perfect match for Chloë.
After dinner, we Googled Jake Cookson and found to my embarrassment that it was the same guy and he was actually an NHL player. I just thought an NHL player would be a lot fitter. I had seen a photo of one of the Canucks in just his underwear and he looked very fit. Very, very fit. Damn, now I needed to apologize to Jake next time I saw him.
Then Chloë and I started working on these retro pillows we were making with fabric we had found at the thrift stores. While we both felt a bit sheepish admitting it to most people, our favourite evenings were spent together crafting and talking. We both loved sewing and retro styles, so it was a chance to combine those interests and chat at the same time. Chloë was telling me about her plans after graduation next year, she was hoping to get a job in Toronto, maybe working as a research assistant in a big brokerage firm. Plus she was bemoaning the long dry spell in her personal life. Chloë was a romantic, she was always getting crushes on these unattainable guys and not noticing the possibilities right under her nose. To me it sounded like this Andrew guy might like her, but she didn’t seem to have noticed.
“What about you, Frank? When are you going to start dating again?”
“Never. Anyway, it’s not like I’m going to meet anyone here.” At the bakery it was mainly women, and at The Keg the pickings were pretty slim. In my short time here, I hadn’t seen anyone who looked even vaguely interesting. But deep down, I knew I was actually having trust issues. I mean, who wouldn’t after everything that happened with Matt?
“You always seem to meet tons of guys. Well, guys ask you out and then you turn them down.”
That was actually true. I think it had less to do with looks and more to do with the fact I looked friendly and approachable, and because I would chat to anyone. A guy once told me he asked me out because I looked like I would say yes. Matt used to joke that he couldn’t leave me alone for five minutes without my getting hit on. Guess he didn’t worry about that anymore. I sighed and did some lime green embroidery on the little pink and red cushion I was working on. It was a combination of checked gingham and a retro print of little candies that should not have worked but looked divine.
“I have a lot of rules though. I don’t date customers, or bosses.” I used to not date co-workers until Matt, and in retrospect I should have kept to that rule.
Chloë rolled her eyes, “Oh, Frankie has a lot of rules about dating? What aspect of life do you not have a lot of rules about?”
I shrugged, but what was wrong with rules? They helped you to keep order in your life. And having rules and goals had gotten me a lot of good things in life. I got a scholarship because I had good study habits; I lost weight because I had followed some strict rules about smaller portions and exercise.
“What about you Chloë? You’re pretty picky too.” She was too, I wasn’t sure if she was actually choosy or wasn’t getting offers, but she didn’t go out on many dates.
She nodded, deep in thought and then her face lit up. “Maybe you’re right, we should both take a chance. I’ve got a brilliant idea! We both have to say yes to the next guy that asks us out!”
This was an alarming idea, especially since a lot of random guys asked me out. I started to shake my head, and Chloë scowled at me. “Come on Frankie, be daring for once in your life.”
“Okay, but I get one pass in case someone really heinous asks me out.”
“That’s the point, we need to go out with someone we wouldn’t normally go out with, to expand our horizons.”
“Last week at The Keg, this gross middle-aged guy asked me out. He had sweat stains in the armpits of his suit jacket, disgusting.”
“Maybe he was a nice person, you never know. You can’t judge by appearances.” Chloë was happy to defend the losers that I might have to date.
“Chloë, he belched in the middle of asking me out. He had a frigging wedding ring on! The whole thing was gross, gross, gross!” I had tried to forget all the details, but it was exactly the reason I needed a free pass and Chloë finally agreed as long as she got one too.
Jake
I like women. I know most guys would say that, but I genuinely like women and naturally I like to get with women. Of course, being in the NHL definitely improves my odds with chicks; I figure I’m a nice guy, but sometimes that’s not enough. Still, I get that not every girl is into hockey players or into me, and it kind of seemed like the little brunette was one of them. I wasn’t going to keep after her if she wasn’t interested, but she was hot enough to rate some extra effort.
The next day at the gym, I asked Brad about her during our training session.
“Hey Brad, you know that brunette that works out here?”
He made a face. “Afternoons? Short with long brown hair?”
“And stacked!” I added.
“Yeah, you’re only the tenth guy to ask me about her. It’s not that kind of gym, and I should never have let her talk me into a membership.”
“Why, is she picking up guys all the time?” That would be good news, because she seemed more on the chilly side.
“No, quite the contrary, she’s strictly not interested in anything but working out. But she’s proving to be a distraction.”
“Has she got a name?”
“Look Cookson, you need to concentrate on your workouts while you’re at the gym.” And he increased the level of the treadmill I was on.
“C’mon, Brad,” I puffed. “She was actually on me for not working out hard enough, so it can only be a good thing if I see more of her.”
He frowned again. “Well, she does come to the gym almost every afternoon and work out hard. Her name is Frances Taylor, Frankie for short.”
So I started coming to the gym afternoons too. Frankie looked pretty cute in her little workout outfits, but it was true that she totally focussed on her routine and hardly looked around. By the end, when she was all sweaty and her top was sticking to her, I was ready to overlook all her prickly ways just to get a crack at that body. Then she would shower and come out wearing these dresses and high heels. She looked like something out of an old movie, but way hotter.
I said hi to her and teased her about getting a ride on my Zamboni and shit like that, she always blushed and seemed to be a lot nicer than when I first talked to her. I figured that she was warming up to me, and there might be a possibility at some point. Meantime though, I had other stuff going on and I wasn’t staying home alone for sure.
I was refilling the drink cooler when Jake walked into the café. Usually I saw him at the gym with a million people around, but this was a chance to talk to him alone. And best of all, Elaine was off.
“Hey,” I called out to him and walked over to the counter.
“Hey yourself,” he said smiling. Despite how rude I had been to him, he had only been nice to me, and that made me feel a little guilty.
Once I had the counter between us, I took a deep breath and then apologized. “I’m really sorry that I didn’t believe you were a hockey player.”
He just shrugged, “It’s okay. You believe it now?”
“Yeah, I Googled your name and saw it was you.” Hopefully that would take care of the niceness portion of our program. “So, what can I get you?”
“Wait, how sorry are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sorry enough to want to make it up to me?”
I could see where this train was headed. “Not that sorry.”
“I don’t know, I was so hurt….” he looked sad as he said this.
Now I felt really bad, I had been pretty insulting about his body and the junk food. I mean, I liked junk food too. “Really? I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, I cried myself to sleep.” He tried to maintain the sad look, but his eyes were all crinkly and smiley. I laughed, he was kind of funny.
“What a crock. But I have an idea – you like to eat, right?”
He nodded guardedly, as if I was going to insult him again.
“I’ll bake you a treat, some cupcakes. Come by the café tomorrow and I’ll have them here for you.”
“You can bake?” He seemed to doubt this possibility.
“They will be the best cupcakes you’ve ever eaten!” I told him confidently.
“Okay,” he paused, “but just so I have something to measure them by, I’ll have a cupcake now, and….”
“Don’t tell me, a Diet Coke, right?”
“Very good! You know what I like.”
And he gave me a sleepy look with his dark eyes half-closed, if I liked him I would have found it sexy.
10. Cupcake Wars
While I was shopping for dinner that night, I tried to figure out what flavour Jake would like. Was he a vanilla guy, all subtle flavour and straightforwardness? Matt had liked my vanilla cupcakes. Or maybe he was lemon, liking the tart mixed with the sweet? I liked lemon the best. I finally decided he was chocolate, chocolate was kind of boyish and earthy and obvious.
It was a hot evening, but I baked the cupcakes anyway. Temperature wise, I found Kingston a lot hotter than Vancouver, and it never cooled off at night either. I ended up cooking in a tank top, shorts and an apron and still sweating. If I could turn baking into a weight-loss activity, my life would be perfect!
As soon as the cupcakes had completely cooled, I iced them and popped them in the freezer, so they would be nice and fresh the next day. I got up early in the morning and wrapped four cupcakes up in a little box with ribbon. I was excited, I know it seems dumb, but I like cooking for people, and to be honest maybe I was starting to like Jake a tiny bit. He seemed like he was easygoing and full of laughs. I still didn’t find him attractive, but maybe I could go out with him once or twice, and I wouldn’t have to worry about my dating pact with Chloë. I liked to be in control of stuff like that.
The day passed as usual: all the business types in a morning rush; then the yummy mummies lingering for their only adult socializing; the laptop people who just sat and sat, typing and reading. Then the lunch rush which really made time fly. By 3:30pm I was beginning to wonder if Jake was going to show up, and I was off at 4:00. I was actually feeling a little put out after all my efforts, and maybe a little rejected. It wasn’t like I had a big crush on him or anything, but he was the nicest guy I had met here so far, and now he was turning out to be as big a jerk as anyone.
“Oh hello, Frances.”
I looked up to see Mrs. Fitzgerald right in front of me but without her customary smile. She ordered a shepherd’s pie entrée to go and waited silently while I wrapped it up. She had told me that every once in a while she didn’t feel like cooking so she got dinner here. Usually she was very chatty, so I was surprised when she paid with hardly a word exchanged.
“What’s wrong, Mrs. Fitz?”
“Oh it’s a silly thing, today is my birthday. My children are all away on trips, business and vacations. We’ll do something together when they get back and with all the grandkids, but…” She stopped, looking embarrassed.
“Tell me,” I urged her.
“My dear husband always made a fuss over my birthdays. He’s been gone three years now, and I still miss him so much.” She smiled ruefully. “I know, it must sound silly to a young girl like you with lots of beaus.”
I only wished I had lots of beaus. I smiled at her, she was such a sweetheart. Well, every cloud had a silver lining, right?”
“You know, Mrs. Fitz, you are so lucky that I’m psychic.”
“I am?” she asked puzzled.
I put her entrée into a container and then into a carrying bag. I showed her the neatly wrapped box with the blue ribbon and then popped it onto the top of the entree.
“It’s a special dessert for your birthday. Baked by me personally! Happy Birthday, Mrs. Fitz!”
She looked surprised and thanked me quietly, then made her way out of the café. Through the window I saw her open the bag and peek inside, then she smiled, straightened her shoulders and walked away.
Jake walked in after lunch the next day. He gave me his usual grin but I turned away. Could it be that he had completely forgotten?
“No cheery greeting today?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
“The usual?” I asked him coolly.
“Actually, I’ll just have a Diet Coke today. Well, maybe something to eat.” He looked over the display case and then suddenly slapped his hand to his forehead. “Sh… oot!” he exclaimed, cleaning up his expletive. “I missed my special cupcakes yesterday.”
“Yup. Your loss,” I told him.
“Oh man, Frankie, I’m so sorry. A bunch of us got together at the last minute and went up to the cottage and I totally forgot about our deal. Are the cupcakes still here?”
“No, of course not, they would be stale by now. I gave them away to someone else.” Then something devilish urged me on, “Someone tall, dark, and handsome who really appreciated them.”
“Really?” Jake asked, skeptically. And he was right, I had yet to see anyone meeting that description around here.
“Yes, I did. Here’s your Diet Coke.” I had secretly shaken the can the whole way over from the cooler.
“Why do I not believe you?”
“Why do I not care?”
“Look Frankie, I’m really sorry, can I make it up to you?”
“And how would you do that? By giving me a chance to slave over a hot stove during a heat wave again?”
“I don’t know, flowers, chocolates, a night of pleasure?”
Excuse me? He was hitting on me after he blew me off? Good luck with that, bozo. I wasn’t sure if this counted as being asked out, but if it did I was using my free pass.
“Forget it, you can’t buy me.”
“So sorry, Frankie, really.” He did look sincerely apologetic and he paid for his drink, tipped me and left. I hated unreliable guys.
The next day, a tall guy with short dark hair walked in. He was wearing a white polo shirt, plaid shorts and a golden tan. He was absolutely gorgeous, and even Elaine was struck dumb and could only issue a low throaty growl of admiration.
“Who is he?” I whispered to her.
“No clue. He’s not from around here, for sure. I’d like to sink my teeth into that though. Yummy, yum, yum.”
“Hi there,” I said, coming up to the counter. “What can I get you?”
He smiled at me, his teeth were white, even, and perfect. “I’m actually looking for Frances, is she working today?”
I had a quick intake of breath and then recovered. “I’m Frances,” I squeaked.
His smile got even bigger. “Oh Frances, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Liam Fitzgerald, I think you know my grandmother, Stella Fitzgerald.”
I owed Mrs. Fitz a big apology; she had not exaggerated one bit when describing her handsome grandson. And if he was as successful as she said, there was probably a Bentley outside the café with his personalized plates on it. “Oh, Mrs. Fitz, of course. A lovely lady.”
“Yes, we all think so, but we’re probably a little prejudiced.” His chuckle was low and infectious and I found myself laughing along like an idiot. He stopped laughing and leaned his hands on the counter. I could smell a faint whiff of expensive cologne and I felt hot all over.
“Frances, I wanted to say thank you so much for those cupcakes yo
u gave my grandmother. We were all a bit neglectful around her birthday, and when I went to visit her today, she told me all about what happened, and I think she was quite delighted. I actually got to eat one of the cupcakes and you are very talented.” He paused to look admiringly at me, and I found myself blushing faintly. “In any case, we are having a party for her this weekend, and my grandmother was hoping that you would be able to attend as well.”
“This weekend, well… which day? I might be working.”
“Saturday afternoon.”
“Oh dear, Saturday, I think I am working,” I turned to look at the schedule.
“No you’re not!” Elaine’s voice was a lot closer than I expected, she was right behind me, wiping her hands on her apron and smiling up at Liam. “Nikki traded shifts with you, remember?”
“She did?” Elaine kicked me in the ankle. “Oh yeah, she did.”
“Great! Well, it’s at my uncle’s place near Picton. Would you like me to pick you up when I pick up my grandmother?”
“Um, okay.” I didn’t have a car, so I didn’t know how else I would get there. Where the heck was Picton anyway?
He pulled out his BlackBerry and got me to put my address and cell number in it, and then handed me a business card. “If anything comes up and you need to get a hold of me, my number’s on here. Otherwise, I’ll pick you up between 1:00 and 1:30 on Saturday. It’s very casual, but bring a bathing suit as Uncle Brendan has a pool.” He gave me a warm look as if he was actually interested in seeing me in a bathing suit. I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing him in a bathing suit.
“Bye Frances, see you Saturday,” he turned to look back at me, and held the door open for the next customer. “And thanks again for the cupcakes!”
“Oh, you’re very welcome.”
The back view was as good as the front I noticed, as Elaine and I looked. “I could watch him leave all day,” Elaine quipped. Then I looked down at the card in my hand. Wow, he was vice-president of a big investment firm in Toronto. Smart, successful and capital H-Hot.
How The Cookie Crumbles Page 5
