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SOPHIE
Watching Lauren deal with the Sunday morning rush is like watching an artist at work. With the help of only three members of staff she manages to serve around eighty people, including those coming in for their regular weekend orders. Every seat in the Camelia Bakery is full, with a line of people waiting outside the door.
It’s not an ideal time to turn up to have a heart-to-heart with the only friend I can confide in, so I sit on one of the counter stools drinking a large mug of coffee and stuffing my face with one – okay two – of her delicious donuts, as she rushes around the room like a whirlwind.
The second time she passes me she puts a hand on my shoulder. “It’ll quiet down in ten minutes,” she tells me.”
I look skeptically at the full room. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come back later?” I ask.
“Nope. Stay right there,” she says, topping up my coffee cup. “I need to know why you walked in here looking like you didn’t go home last night.”
Ten minutes later, the line is gone and there are a couple of tables free. The frantic activity has dwindled, everybody has their coffee and pastries, and there’s a happy Sunday morning buzz in the place. Lauren pours herself a cup of coffee and sits in the now-empty stool next to mine.
“Hey.” She smiles as she takes a sip.
“Hey.”
Lauren is one of my very favorite people. She, Ava, and I have known each other for most of our lives. We met on our first day of college and never looked back. They know me better than anybody else in my life.
“So who is he?”
I blink. “What makes you think it’s a he?”
She smiles. “Well let’s see. You’re wearing a skirt and a blouse that are crumpled as heck. And because I tuned into the evening news last night, I happen to know you were wearing that same skirt and blouse yesterday. By the way, great broadcast.”
“Thanks.” I give her a small smile.
“So?”
I swallow hard. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I’m also in desperate need of somebody to talk to. There’s no way I can confide in Ava about this. She’s too close to the situation and I’d hate for her to have split loyalties.
“I spent the night at Liam’s,” I say quickly.
“Oh.” Lauren’s eyes widen. “As in…” She wiggles her brows. “Spent the night?”
I take a sip of coffee to give me courage. “As in we didn’t dothat, but we did some other stuff and then I slept in his bed. With him.”
“But I thought you two didn’t get along.”
“We don’t.” I frown. “Well we didn’t, but we do now I guess. He’s been really sweet to me since he won the auction.” I tell her about our messaging and watchingGrey’s Anatomytogether and then about last night.
And yeah, I admit that I lied to him. She’s particularly interested in all the details of that first night when nothing happened but I pretended it did.
“No way,” she hisses. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I need details. All of them.”
“There aren’t many,” I point out. “Nothing happened, remember?”
She folds her arms across her chest. “But he slept in your bed all night. Naked.” Her eyes widen. “Is he as impressive as I think he is?”
“Yep.”
“Oh.” She sighs. “I can’t believe you lied to him. Or that he believed it. You’re such a terrible liar,” she says.
“I know.” I look down at my plate, now empty save for some donut crumbs. “But this felt different. Like, I don’t know, self-preservation I guess.”
“Why self-preservation?” she asks, sounding confused.
“I think I’ve always been attracted to him,” I admit. “But he’s the kind of guy who would break my heart, not one that would ever settle down. So it was easier to tell a lie and know he would never be interested in me than, I don’t know.”
