Bachelor at Her Bidding (Bachelor Auction Book 2) (9 page)

Rachel was sitting
at the table in Rocco’s Italian with her sister and her friends, having ordered her favorite lasagna and a side salad.

“You know we’re going to ask, so you might as well spill the beans now,” Lizzy said. “All of them.”

Spill the beans about her evening with Ryan. Rachel spread her hands. “There’s really nothing much to tell.”

“No? What about the food?” Hannah suggested. “What did he cook for you?”

Rachel knew she’d have to tell them all something. But she certainly wasn’t planning to tell them everything about last night – and she really hoped that she wouldn’t betray herself by blushing when she talked about Ryan. They’d all known her long enough to be able to add two and two and come up with exactly the right answer. “He cooked me the best crab cakes I’ve ever had in my life, griddled lamb with rosemary potatoes and buttered spinach, and a trio of desserts to die for.”

“What’s a trio of desserts?” Dayna asked.

“It’s the way they do things in Paris, apparently – three little portions of things that go well together. Chocolate
macarons
 – French ones, of course – home made coffee ice cream, and crème brûlée. And would you believe he blowtorched the top of the crème brûlée at the table to caramelize the sugar? I’ve never seen anything so pretty – or so impressive.”

“It sounds perfect,” said Susie. “Though, having eaten enough of his desserts at Grey’s, I would’ve expected it to be perfect.” She paused. “So how did you get on with him?”

“He’s a nice guy,” Rachel said. But then she caught the knowing glances her sister and her friends exchanged, and sighed. “We’re friends,” she emphasized. “
Just
friends. Neither of us is looking for a relationship right now. So, now you’ve asked me about the evening and I’ve told you about the food, can we just leave it at that and concentrate on eating the best pasta in Marietta?”

*

After they’d finished
their entrees, Ella, the waitress, came over with a smile. “Ready for the next bit?”

“Desserts? Bring it on. We can cope,” Susie said, laughing back.

But, instead of bringing them the dessert menu, Ella came over carrying a tray with something none of them had ever seen before. A pyramid of what looked like dough balls, except they couldn’t be because they were covered in caramel and spun sugar and candied almonds, and there were several wedding sparklers stuck into the pyramid, twinkling away.

“What’s this?” Rachel asked.

“It’s a
croquembouche
. A French celebration cake made out of vanilla cream puffs and spun sugar,” Ella explained. “I was asked to bring this to you all after your entree. And to tell you happy birthday.” She smiled. “So – happy birthday, Rachel.”

Rachel didn’t need to ask who it was from. Even without the French name, it was perfectly obvious who had made the cake for her. “That looks amazing,” she said softly. “And I can’t get over those sparklers. I haven’t seen them used on birthday cakes before.”

“Apparently, it’s how they do things in Europe,” Ella said, deftly removing the now-spent sparklers. “He did say something about indoor roman candles, but I’m not entirely sure if he was teasing me.”

“So do we cut it with a knife?” Lizzy asked.

“I asked that, too. Apparently, you just take the cream puffs one at a time from the tower. I can bring you some tongs to save your hands getting messy, if you like,” Ella said.

“That would be lovely. Thanks,” Rachel said. She looked at her sister and her friends. “Do you mind if I text him to say thank you?”

“Of course not – but do tell him thank you from all of us, too,” Susie said.

Rachel grabbed her cell phone from her purse. “Sure.” She texted Ryan quickly.
Thank you from all of us for the amazing cake and the sparklers! Would you like me to save some for you and Phyllis?

The reply came back quickly.
My pleasure. Glad you like it. No need to save any – enjoy.

She couldn’t quite leave it there. Especially once she’d tasted the
croquembouche
. Surreptitiously, she texted him under the table.
I’ve never tasted cake like this. You’re incredibly talented, Mr. Henderson.

Though she’d forgotten to put her phone on silent mode, and the beep signalling a text reply came just when all of them had their mouths full of cake and the table was silent.

Why, thank you, Dr. Cassidy. I enjoyed making it. It’s been a while since I made one.

“Rach, are you texting Ryan under the table?” Dayna asked.

Busted. “Just saying thank you,” Rachel said.

“You already did that,” Lexy pointed out. “So you’re clearly having a conversation with him.”

“Does this mean you’re seeing each other?” Hannah asked.

Rachel shook her head. “We’re just friends. I think the cake was the last bit of last night, if you see what I mean – he wanted you all to share in it because you all put in to win the bid for his meal.”

“But how,” Susie asked, “did Ryan Henderson know that you were going to be here with us tonight?”

“I might have, um, mentioned it in passing.” Rachel wriggled in her seat. “And I thought you’d all agreed to stop questioning me?”

“That was before you started texting him under the table, Rach. That’s
extremely
suspicious,” Lizzy teased. “Anyone would think you were secretly dating him and trying to put your best friends and your sister off the scent.”

“We’re not dating. We’re just friends,” Rachel repeated.

“But friends don’t blush when each other’s name is mentioned,” Dayna pointed out.

“I’m not blushing. It’s very warm in here,” Rachel said, fanning herself rapidly with her hand.

Hannah gave her a hug. “You’re over-thinking it, you know. Ryan Henderson’s a nice guy. And you could both do with some fun in your life. This is the twenty-first century, so you don’t have to wait for him to ask you out. Why don’t you ask him?”

“Because I’m not ready to date and he’s not interested.”

“So not interested that he made you a cake like this?” Lexy asked. “And this tower of deliciousness doesn’t look as if it could be put together and baked in half an hour, like your average Victoria sponge. This, my honey, is a cake with
intent
.” She paused for effect. “With
wedding
sparklers, no less.”

“It’s no such thing. This is a birthday cake and he made it for
all
of us,” Rachel protested. “You heard what Ella said. The sparklers are used on birthday cakes in Europe, not just for weddings. Now, please can we change the subject and finish eating this fantastic cake?”

There was a lot of hmming from the others, teamed with narrow-eyed looks, but to Rachel’s relief they all let the subject go back to the normal things they chatted about when they went out as a group: family, work, the new song they’d heard on the radio and the new movie they couldn’t wait to see.

She and Ryan weren’t an item. It wasn’t going to happen.

Friendship was enough. And it would be very stupid of her to wish for any more – even if he had made her feel utterly amazing last night. Friendship was
enough.

*

“So I hear
you’ve been moonlighting for Rocco’s,” Reese drawled, leaning against the counter in the kitchen at Grey’s. “Supplying them with gourmet French cake.”

“Hardly.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “It was all part of the fundraiser thing. Anyway, how do you know about that?”

“Spy network,” Reese said.

“Oh, please.” Ryan shook his head and went back to making the marinade for the chicken wings.

“And there were wedding sparklers stuck all over it. Where the hell did you get an idea like that?” Reese asked.

Oh. So that was what was bugging the saloon manager. Ryan had made something flashy that Reese thought his own customers might be interested in for special occasions. “A cook never shares his secrets,” Ryan said with a grin.

Reese’s expression said,
Oh, really? They do when they’re being paid to work in my saloon kitchen.

Ryan said nothing.

“She’s nice, Dr. Cassidy,” Reese said conversationally. Except Reese didn’t really have conversations. Especially on a topic like this.

“Your point being?” Ryan asked.

“Just sayin’. You could do worse.”

That was the last thing Ryan had expected to hear. He stared at Reese. Since when did his boss interfere in anyone’s love life? “I don’t have time to date.”

Reese shrugged. “Who does? But maybe you should try making the time.”

“Has my grandmother asked you to nag me or something?”

“No.” There was a ghost of a smile in Reese’s eyes.

Ryan thought of the other most likely candidates who’d sicced Reese onto him. “Lily Taylor?”

“I couldn’t possibly say. A saloon manager never shares his secrets.”

“Throwing my words back at me? That’s low, Reese.”

Reese raised an eyebrow. “But whoever suggested I have a word with you might just have a point, don’t you think?”

Lily Taylor and just about half of Marietta, Ryan thought ruefully at the end of his shift. His colleagues, any of the customers who managed to catch his eye – they all had something to say about how nice Rachel Cassidy was and how much they liked her and how it was time Ryan had a bit of fun in his life.

And he’d made all the dishes at Grey’s so many times before that he barely had to think while he was cooking them. Which meant there was way too much time for his brain to absorb what everyone was saying.

They had a point.

Rachel Cassidy
was
nice.

Would it really be so bad to have some fun for once?

And if everyone was making the same kind of comments to her about him… then maybe they could both give in. Give it a try. See where it took them.

He’d pick up Phyllis’s prescription from the pharmacy after his shift, and then he’d call in to see Dr. Cassidy on the way to the daycare center. See how the land lay. Maybe ask her to dinner.

*

When he went
into the pharmacy at the other end of the block from Grey’s, he noticed that Rachel was browsing the shelves – presumably waiting to pick up a prescription for someone. She was just the type who’d help a neighbor out and save them a trip into town.

He was about to go over to her when he heard Carol Bingley, the pharmacy owner, say from behind the counter, “Such a shame when a woman can only get a date if it’s bought for her.”

Rachel didn’t say a word, but Ryan could see her shoulders hunching, as if she were trying to make herself invisible. Clearly she knew that Carol’s bitchy comment was aimed straight at her.

Anger splintered through him.

In most cases Ryan would simply ignore anything the town gossip said. But this time Carol had gone way too far. What right did the woman have to pass judgment on anyone? And why did she have to be so mean all the time?

“On the contrary, Mrs. Bingley,” he said coolly. “Sometimes people don’t date simply because they’re busy professionals and they just haven’t had time to look for a partner. Like Dr. Cassidy, here. Or me.” He held the pharmacy owner’s gaze. “For your information, Rachel’s sister and her friends didn’t buy her a date with me. They bought her a birthday dinner – and they raised money for a very good cause at the same time. A cause I sincerely hope you’ve been supporting as well.”