She tapped her fingers on her phone screen. To Sophie’s surprise, the phone only rang twice and then she heard Todd answer.
‘Hey Todd.’
‘Hey Bellabella. What you up to?’
‘Having a disaster. I need your help.’
‘Shoot.’
‘Would you be able to help with a delivery tomorrow morning? I need to get six dozen cupcakes over to the other side of Greenpoint.’
Sophie waited, expecting a slew of questions and excuses.
‘Sure. What time?’
‘Early, I’m afraid. I said I’d get them there for eight because I thought I’d need to get back to open the shop. My Saturday girls don’t start until ten. It’s a bit late to phone the client and change the arrangements now.’ Bella winced.
‘No problem. I’ll be there at seven. You’d better have a coffee ready.’
‘Todd, you’re an angel.’
‘Does that mean I qualify for a lifetime supply of heavenly cupcakes?’
‘You bet. See you tomorrow.’
‘Laters.’
Bella turned to Sophie. ‘He’s a star. So will you go with him? Sorry, you’ve probably got plans.’
‘Of course I can help.’
‘And you should be finished by nine.’
Great. That just left the rest of the day to fill.
Chapter 6 (#u220d420b-d756-50b5-91ff-499ce91b97ac)
‘Hey English,’ said Todd, immediately stepping forward and relieving her of the first box of cupcakes. He had that healthy, wholesome glow of a character from a TV ad, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, in a crisp white cotton button-down-collar shirt and denim shorts which showed off perfectly even-tanned legs.
She wasn’t sure why she had, but thank goodness she’d washed her hair, blow dried it into soft curls for a change and put on some make-up. She didn’t feel like a bag lady next to him. Even better that she’d put on her favourite cobalt-blue linen shirt that did wonders for her eyes and cut-off shorts that showed off her legs, which apart from her hair (on the days like today, when it behaved itself) were definitely her best attribute.
Not that, scrubbed up, she came anywhere close to matching his golden beauty. No wonder he had a harem of women panting down the phone to speak to him.
‘Morning Todd.’ She was deliberately brisk. The stupid sudden fluttering in her chest could just back off. Hormones had a lot to answer for. That must be it. Normal healthy response. She was not the sort of girl who had crushes. She was far too sensible, and after James, a relationship-free bastion of singledom.
‘How many boxes have we got?’ He grinned, eyes twinkly and direct. The flutter intensified and she had to suck in an extra breath.
‘J-just another two.’ She shot him a perfunctory, polite, see-your-thousand-watt-charisma-has-no-effect smile in response.
‘Cool.’ His grin didn’t so much as dim. ‘My car’s in a no-waiting area around the corner. You can’t miss it.’ He was already heading off down the street, calling over his shoulder. ‘I’ll take these if you can bring the others.’
She took a steadying breath, watching him as he strode off. God, he had a nice backside. Broad shoulders, tapering down to a trim waist and that … yeah, that backside. What the hell was wrong with her? Objectifying the poor man. She gave herself a stern mental shake.
She marched back into the kitchen to grab the last two boxes.
‘Here’s the receipt. You need to give it to the customer. They’ve already paid. Good luck and don’t take any risks. Make sure Todd drives like an old lady. I feel this batch is jinxed.’
‘Bella, don’t worry. I’ll guard them with my life.’ They exchanged knowing smiles. They’d finally finished very late the night before.
Carrying the two boxes, she rounded the corner and nearly stopped dead. Todd was right, you couldn’t miss his car. So much for the assumption he’d be a BMW or Mercedes type of man. She had to slow her steps down, while she schooled her face. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings but it took a second or two to mask her surprise. This car was a mess, without doubt the scruffiest, tattiest thing she’d ever seen. And so not Todd, who usually rocked the preppy look with his crisp chino shorts and perfectly pressed linen shirts. The ancient Golf had a huge dent in the driver’s door, the bumper at the back was missing and the panel of the rear door was bright blue, in ugly contrast to the dark racing-green paintwork of the rest of the car. As she neared she could see that the paintwork on the bonnet had bubbled with pale craters, looking like skin peeling after a nasty case of sunburn.
‘Interesting car,’ she said straight faced, handing the boxes over to him. Despite the distraction of the car, she was still unable to stop herself ogling his pert bottom as he leant into the rear seat to stow them next to the others.
When he turned back to her his face danced with mischievous wickedness. ‘Pisses the hell out of my dad when I go home and park it on the drive. Lowers the tone of the neighbourhood.’
She laughed. ‘I bet it does. I don’t want to be rude, but this would lower the tone of a rubbish tip.’ She shot the wheels a dubious look. ‘Does it actually work or is it like Fred Flintstone’s car and we have to run?’
‘I’ll have you know, Gertie …’ he paused and patted the car door, ‘is a loyal if occasionally temperamental old girl. She doesn’t like winter mornings, but then who does?’
‘As long as she starts today and gets these cakes to … wherever we’re going, I don’t mind. Bella is counting on us.’
Suddenly serious, Todd straightened up and pulled his keys out of his pocket. ‘I wouldn’t let Bella down.’ Then his face lightened and with his usual engaging grin, he said, holding out his hand, ‘Come on, strap yourself in and prepare yourself for the ride of your life.’
‘That’s what I’m worried about,’ she said primly, her eyes twinkling as she pressed her lips together, trying not to smile back at him. He was totally incorrigible. ‘I’m grateful no one round here knows me.’
He slapped a hand to his chest. ‘Shsh! You’ll upset her.’
Sophie climbed into the back seat next to the boxes.
From the driver’s seat, he handed his phone back to her. ‘Here, you’ll need to navigate. The sound doesn’t work when it’s charging and it’s low on battery at the moment. I know my way until we cross Fulton Street and then I’ll need directions.’
The car coughed to life with a roar and a bit of splutter but Todd looked unconcerned as they pulled out onto the one-way street, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel in time to the music blaring out from the radio. Interestingly, Sophie noticed as she looked at the floor and the back seat, the inside of the car was absolutely pristine.
‘Take the next right here,’ said Sophie, holding Todd’s iPhone in one hand, while the other kept a gentle guard on the boxes of cupcakes to keep them from sliding around the back of the car. ‘We must be nearly there … Yes,’ she checked the screen, ‘up this street and then second on the right.’
‘Two blocks, English,’ corrected Todd, catching her eye in the mirror with his usual sunny smile. ‘We’ll make an American of you yet.’
‘You can try but I come from a long line of very English English-folk.’ As evidenced in the heavy leather-bound Bible in the library which traced the family tree right back to the court of Charles II.
‘Challenge accepted,’ said Todd.
‘What? That wasn’t a challenge, just an observation.’ Sophie rolled her eyes at him in the mirror but of course received his usual grin.
Todd’s battered car turned the final corner, into a street of brownstones.
‘It’s nice round here.’
‘Up and coming. They film The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt here. And a couple of other things.’