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“You know I love your cookies and treats, Lilly. You are an exceptional baker,” he tells me. “Have you ever thought about doing a pop-up café stall at the local shopping centre? As a starting point? Clients of mine from the firm rave about the success they have had by keeping things small to begin with.”
“A pop-up café?” I echo, feeling butterflies dance with excitement in my stomach. “That sounds perfect!” I grin at Oliver, filled with gratitude that he is not only taking my dreams seriously but also finding a way for me to make them happen. Oliver is a proper grown up with an actual career, so to have him buy into my plans for a café fills me with purpose and self-satisfaction. Things I haven’t felt in a long time.
“Do you think I can make it work?” I ask.
“You can do anything you put your mind to, Lil,” he says with confidence. “And besides, these cookies will sell themselves,” he adds as he munches on his third one of the day.
“This is so great. Now I have something tangible to focus on. Thank you, Ollie,” I say as I launch myself at him for a grateful hug. Oliver grabs me, squeezes me, and holds me close for one, two, three…ten seconds this time. Wow, these Oliver hugs are getting longer. For a man who isn’t prone to acts of overt affection, he sure knows how to give a wonderful hug.
“You’re welcome,” he says as I plunk myself back onto my stool. Is Oliver closer than he was before? “I didn’t really do anything. But I am happy to help with anything you may need. Some marketing tips, perhaps?” Oliver has just been promoted to senior brand manager at his fancy marketing company, so he could be of use here.
“I can’t afford you, Ollie,” I remind him with a smile.
“Just keep me filled with sugary treats and you will have me forever,” he replies.
I feel my smile wobble as I digest his words. If only I could have him forever. As I look at his lips with longing, Oliver leans forward. I hold my breath as his fingers reach towards my face. What is happening?
“You have a bit of something smudged right here.” He wipes gently at what must be the mascara smeared under my eye. Great, here I was thinking we were having a moment, and he is trying to stop me looking like a racoon. Good going, Lilly.
I lean away from him and, using my forefingers, rub under my eyes.
“Thanks! Sorry you’ve had to look at me sitting here like a hot mess all this time.” My face is flaming with embarrassment. I wish I were a different sort of person sometimes, someone who can get through the day without parts of her make-up melting down her face.
At this, Oliver’s eyebrows pinch together in consternation as he looks at my face, his eyes skating over my lips and flushed cheeks. Great, what else do I have running down my face?
“Lilly…,” he starts.
“Lilly? Are you here?” comes the booming voice of my best friend, Amy, bouncing into the house. “Is that a bike I see outside?” she asks, sounding perplexed. She skids to a halt as she enters the kitchen, her big brown eyes narrowing in suspicion as she perhaps notices the weird vibe between me and Oliver.
“What’s going on here?” she asks, pulling her long brown hair into a messy ponytail, her eyes darting between the two of us.
I clear my throat and sit back on my stool, moving even further away from Oliver.
“Nothing! I just brought some treats to thank Oliver for rescuing me last night.”
Amy opens her mouth to ask more questions, and I beat her to it.
“Don’t ask,” I say. “Just another one of my Silly Lilly incidents. I will fill you in later.”
“OK,” she says, still looking at us with a hint of suspicion.
“Look, I bought you some treats too!” I hold up the second Tupperware container to distract her. It works.
“Are they mint chocolate chip cookies?” she asks with obvious delight.
“Would I dare to bring you anything else?”
“Not if you want to keep best friend status. Come on, let’s go to my room. I need to get out of these scrubs. And you need to fill me in on some things, starting with that bike outside,” she says. As she ushers me out of the room, I turn to see Oliver watching me leave, a small frown on his face.
“Bye, Ollie. Thanks for the chat,” I say as I walk out the door.
“See you soon, Lilly,” is his soft reply.
CHAPTER 4
Lilly
“So spill, Miss Lil,” Amy says as we close the door to her bedroom. I move the pile of books that are taking up half her bed, clearing some space for me to sit down. Amy is a voracious reader, a real bookworm, and as such, she always has well-worn paperbacks scattered around her room.
