The Little Brooklyn Bakery: A heartwarming feel good novel full of cakes and romance!

‘I’ve heard of it, but not seen it.’

‘Big hit. Funny.’

Sophie resolved to check it out on Netflix. That would give her something to watch this week.

With the cakes safely delivered, she hopped into the front seat of the car for the return trip.

‘Have you had breakfast?’ asked Todd.

‘No, it was too early and now it’s too late.’

‘Welcome to New York, it’s never too late for brunch, unless you’ve got plans.’

Sophie hesitated for a second, remembering her conversation with Kate the previous evening. A few weeks ago she wouldn’t have thought twice, in fact she’d probably have already suggested a coffee or breakfast.

‘No, no plans. Brunch would be … great. If you’ve got time.’ It would be a fabulous way of killing a few hours and would make her feel that she was at least starting to make an effort to get out and about.

With a rueful grimace, she realised that actually not much had changed. In London, she’d spent a lot of hours at the weekends killing time. Large chunks of her life had been held in abeyance while she waited for James to be around. It made her cross to realise how much time she’d wasted. On weekday evenings she’d been desperate to savour every precious moment of his company, so they’d stayed in the flat. Of course, now it made complete sense. It had lessened the chance of discovery, bumping into someone who might know him. Missed trips to the theatre, to exhibitions, to new restaurants. Not going to Kew Gardens at Christmas, not going to Notting Hill Carnival, not going to Proms in the Park.

And now she was in danger of repeating the same mistake here. Of staying indoors. Not venturing out on her own.

‘For you, I’ve got all the time in the world.’

Sophie rolled her eyes again. ‘Yeah, I bet you say that to all the girls.’

‘Of course I do.’ He flashed her an irrepressible grin. ‘There’s a great place near Bella’s. Café Luluc. It will be ridiculously busy, but worth it. A Mexican family runs it. They do fantastic brunch. I can go get rid of the car, if you don’t mind waiting in line.’

‘You mean queuing,’ Sophie’s repressive tone was tempered with a wry smile.

‘You queue, I’ll wait in line.’ He winked at her.

‘Go on, then.’ She couldn’t help smile back at him, his easy-going cheerful attitude was infectious.

Standing in the sunshine, watching everyone on Smith Street, was no hardship. Todd had told her he’d be a while, as despite his resident’s permit, it could be tricky finding a parking space. She didn’t mind the wait; it was fun people watching, especially in a different city. Why hadn’t she done this before?

Experience told her that a queue this long meant that the food would be worth every minute. It also gave her plenty of time to give the menu a thorough examination. Her passion for food and English collided in happy accident, after she spectacularly failed her A levels. Deciding to take a year out, she got a part-time job in admin at the local paper and a waitressing job in a newly opened gastro-pub in the village. The food at The White Hare in Haresfoot was some of the best she’d ever tasted and when she wrote a review and showed it to George, the editor of the paper, he promptly published it and gave her a job writing a food column.

‘What’s with the frown?’ asked Todd when he finally joined her in the queue.

‘It’s so hard, I can’t decide whether to have the eggs Florentine or the brioche French toast with apple compote. Or maybe I should try the omelette with wild mushrooms and Asiago cheese. I’ve no idea what Asiago cheese is.’

‘So why would you try it?’

Sophie took off her sunglasses and gave him her best schoolteacher reproving stare. ‘It’s important for your food education.’

‘Right.’ Todd nodded, for once trying to keep the smile from his face.

‘I’m serious. You should never stop trying new things. You might miss out on something amazing.’

‘I’ll take your word for it. So how did you get into the whole food-writing thing?’

By the time Sophie had told him the full story, they were ushered to a booth at the back of the restaurant and sat down on red vinyl seats at a white-clothed table. When the couple sitting next to them had their food served, Sophie couldn’t help leaning over and asking what they’d ordered.

They responded with instant open friendliness and enthusiasm that made her doubly ashamed that this was her first proper weekend outing since she’d been here.

‘Now I’m even more undecided,’ she confided to Todd, sneaking another look at their neighbours’ eggs Benedict. ‘They look yummy.’ She strained her neck, watching a waiter taking out three plates to a table near the front of the restaurant. ‘Everything looks divine.’

‘Close your eyes and stick a finger on the menu,’ suggested Todd, leaning back against the seat, his arm lazily topping the booth.

Sophie drew herself up and, widening her eyes, gave a mock outraged gasp, ‘I couldn’t possibly do that.’

He laughed. ‘I knew that. Crunch time. The waiter is heading this way and I am starving, so you’re going to have to make your choice.’ He leaned forward with mock threat. ‘And I will order without you.’

‘Oh.’

She huffed and puffed as the waiter patiently stood with his notepad exchanging looks with Todd.

‘I’ll have the brioche French … oh, actually, can you tell me what Asiago cheese is?’

‘It’s a nutty, firm cheese, not as strong or dry as parmesan or pecorino but very similar.’

‘Right …’ she pulled a face and turned to Todd. ‘That makes it even harder.’

Todd rolled his eyes and turned to the waiter. ‘She’ll have the brioche French toast with apple compote and I’ll have the wild mushroom and Asiago cheese omelette.’ He turned back to her with a quick aside, ‘You can share mine,’ before also ordering coffee and orange juice.

‘Tea for me, please.’

Scribbling on his pad as he went, the waiter scooted off.

‘You didn’t have to do that. Now I feel guilty.’

‘Well don’t. I’ve eaten here plenty of times. I like omelette and for my food education, I thought I’d try the cheese. And you can try both.’

‘That’s very kind of you.’

‘Kind is my middle name,’ said Todd airily.

Sophie studied him from under her lashes. With some people kindness could be quite self-serving, almost calculated. Todd’s came naturally.

‘So how are you finding New York?’

She shrugged. Evasive, her eyes studying the ornate plasterwork on the ceiling. ‘I’ve only been here two weeks. And most of the time I’ve been at work.’

Scepticism flared in his eyes, when she brought her gaze back to eye level.

Defensive now, she fingered some stray salt grains on the table. ‘There’s plenty of time. I’m here for six months.’

The raised eyebrow had her digging in deeper. ‘There’s no hurry. Everything will still be there tomorrow and every day after that.’