I watch the room growing lighter, with each change of hue comes the reality of not getting another wink of sleep. Frustrated, I kick back the covers, the last thing I wanted to do was open the shop. I could call in sick, but I knew my boss wouldn’t believe me, after all, she knew me pretty well, especially consider we shared a body and a brain.
* * *
Thankfully, the morning is quiet. Drew came in, as usual, to get his and Luke’s coffee. He left after making some smart arse remark about how I looked like a zombie. If there wasn’t likely to be some truth behind his words I might have taken offense.
I was on my third coffee when Oliver walked in, damn him for looking so rested and sexy as if he’d just fallen out of bed and onto the catwalk kind of way. He takes a stool at the counter when another couple walks in behind him and occupy a seat in front of the windows.
Ignoring him, I busy myself with delivering a menu to the couple before returning to the counter.
“What do you want?” I lean into the counter in front of him as if I wasn’t completely flustered he was sitting there, merely a metre away from reach.
“You.” He doesn’t miss a beat as if already anticipating my question. I raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for a real answer. “Fine,” He chuckles, and the sound of it hits me like a bucket of cold water to my body, a jolt to my consciousness. No longer did my body scream for sleep, it was screaming for something completely different now. “I’ll have a cherry dream cupcake. Please.”
On a delicate plate I had rescued from my grandma’s china cabinet, I serve Oliver his order. I feel his eyes on me as he eats it. Every morsel and crumb consumed as I take the order from the other couple in the shop.
As I deliver the cupcakes and coffee to the other table I hear Oliver clear his throat before the sound of the twisting stool.
“Daisy, how many cupcakes would I need to buy before you agreed to dinner with me?” His voice is loud enough the other couple is now watching him before their eyes dart up to me.
I apologise to them before offering a weak smile and hastily making my way back to the counter, fully prepared to scold Oliver for his disruptive behaviour when suddenly it occurs to me that my reaction is exactly what he wants.
“One hundred and fifty.” I answer his question, as if unfazed. I enjoy watching his eyebrows shoot up.
“One hundred and fifty?”
“Yes, one hundred and fifty cupcakes.”
“And then you’ll have dinner with me?”
15
oLIVER
* * *
One hundred and fifty cupcakes and the possibility of type two diabetes was all that stood in the way of getting Daisy to have dinner with me.
Mentally, I calculate how many kilometres I was going to need to run on a daily basis just to stay ahead of the muffin top. If I run more than I slept, by the time I was due back at the doctor in a fortnight’s time I should have eaten enough to secure a date with Daisy.
“Batter up, hit me with five of your best.” I smirk at my own witty pun as I pull a fifty from my wallet.
“Five? Takeaway right?”
“Nope, I’ll have them in, right here. Wouldn’t want you thinking I was cheating by sharing them with my family.” Suddenly, it occurs to me, my plan hit a whole new level of genius. To eat one hundred and fifty cupcakes meant a whole lot of time in Daisy’s presence. That was a whole lot of cake slash face time with her. I just had to remember to chew with my mouth shut and I was golden.
Daisy dumps a plate with a very feminine flowery pattern on it in front of me, my eyes bulge at the size of the cupcakes placed on it, there wouldn’t be room for a single one more. I made another mental note, be more specific with my order in future.
* * *
I make it to my fourth cupcake when I order a very tall glass of milk. Daisy sighs at me before heading back to the kitchen. She comes back with an unopened litre of milk and places it down in front of me with a thunk. The chill factor of her gesture had shifted from a raging snow storm in the mid-Antarctic to a blizzard in the Swiss Alps. That was progress.
“Hey, Jase.” I follow Daisy’s glance past me to a tall man in a police uniform who had just walked into the shop, all smiley and suave. I had no idea who this jerk was; he certainly wasn’t anyone I recognised from when I had lived in town, so he had to be someone who had moved in after I left. Moved in on Daisy as well? The smile she was greeting him with seemed overly familiar to me.
“Hi Daisy, I come to tell you some good news. We found your bag. Your purse was missing but it looks like everything else was still inside.”
“Oh, that is good news.” I watch as she gushes over the man, almost choking on my cupcake. They both eye me, Daisy with disdain and Jase with a curious concern.
Swallowing down my last bite, I stand and offer my hand to the constable. “We haven’t met, Oliver Coxen.” Graciously he accepts it.
“Constable Jason Devlin. Nice to meet you. You’re new around here?”
I laugh off his assumption. “No, born and raised in Fosford.”
“Okay, excuse me for assuming, it’s just that I haven’t seen you around here before.”
“He left.” Daisy deadpans.
“Right,” Constable Devlin steps from one foot to the other before clearing his throat, “Well, Dase, your bag is down at the station, come down after and I can release it to you.”
Daisy rushes to the end of the cake cabinet before coming back with a Cherry Dream cupcake, with a sweet smile and a cutesy shoulder shrug she hands the cupcake over.
“Please, take this, just a little thank you for your excellent police work.”
“I shouldn’t, I can’t be seen to be taking bribes, but I’m sure I can make an exception.” He takes the cupcake from her delicate little hands before biting into it. “It would be criminal for a sane man to turn down something so sweet, ain’t that right Oliver?” Constable Devlin casts his gaze back to me, a crumb resting precariously on his bottom lip.
He doesn’t wait for my answer; instead, he turns and heads to the door, offering a wave before he leaves the shop.
“What was that all about?” I ask her.
“None of your business.”
“You were blatantly flirting with a married man, Daisy.”
“I was not!” She snaps, her cheek flushing a delicious colour of pink. “How did you know he is married?”
“It’s my job to notice these sorts of things.”
“Yeah, that’s right, your job.” Hastily, Daisy picks up my now empty plate and the half-finished carton of milk before swiftly turning away from me and stalking back into the kitchen, calling out a goodbye to me as she goes.
I realise I have pushed her enough for one day, so leaving my change in the tip jar I leave the shop, with my plan now in full motion I needed to work on the logistics of my next step.
In the meantime, I pull my phone from my pocket and call Trent’s number. Releasing my breath as soon as he finally picks up.
“Trent, I need a favour.”
“Oh hey, Ollie. Good to hear from you too. I’m great thanks for asking, well other than this nail infection thing I have and possibly a case of tetanus.”