When Only Cupcakes Will Do (25 page)

Should she follow her head or her heart?

Her internal rolodex spun round to Ed and the heated conversation they'd had outside the Fox and Hounds after he'd seen her with Alex. He'd told her to trust her heart. Why couldn't she stop thinking about him? Even in such stress-filled situations as running out of petrol in the rain, Ed had been able to lift her spirits with anecdotes of his exploits as a crazy, adrenalin-seeking teenager. She couldn't erase the images of him flying down the zip wire, whipping up his
nonna
's signature
torta
, teasing her about her lack of any sense of adventure. Every moment she'd spent with him had been exhilarating, challenging, fascinating, and, unlike when she'd been with Alex, there was no mention of the government's current corporate taxation policy in sight!

And it had been Ed who had encouraged her to shoot for her dreams. It had been his idea to submit her products to Fortnum & Mason, Harrods, Selfridges.
Why not?
he'd argued.
What was the worst that could happen?
He had unswerving confidence in her talents as a confectioner and pastry chef, despite their shaky beginnings. He had forced her to step outside her comfort zone both professionally and personally and look at what she had achieved in such a short space of time.

Everything she did now, she wondered what Ed would think of it. New flavours for her cupcakes, new designs for her cake pops, new ideas for diversifying into bespoke chocolates. What would he think about the specialist teas they served in Fortnum & Mason? Which would be his favourite blend? In fact, if she were truly honest with herself, she realised she would have much preferred to be meeting Ed at the Diamond Jubilee Tea Salon to dissect her meeting with Georges Gasnier – whether the outcome was successful or a disaster. She knew he would celebrate the first with joy and encouragement, and dismiss the latter with a suggestion she try Harrods.

She checked her mobile but there were no messages or texts from him. Had she really expected there to be? He'd made it abundantly clear that he wanted no part of her life until she had decided what she wanted. Were the emotions swirling around her veins what true love was all about?

By the time she arrived on the doorstep of the iconic store her mind was blank, her conundrums incapable of further exploration. She drew in a steadying breath, shoved her shoulders back and rebooted her modem. For the first time in the last twenty-four hours her heartbeat calmed. She paused on the street, drinking in the sight of the famous store's duck-egg-blue façade. Her lips curled into a smile as she glanced over her shoulder towards Piccadilly Circus. She really did love it here. She took a moment to absorb the sights and sounds of the most fabulous retail space in London, maybe even pipping Tiffany's to the top spot.

She stepped inside and was immediately engulfed by a sense of well-being and excitement. All her personal issues shrank to insignificance when she surveyed the myriad wonders of the department store where the Queen shopped for her groceries.

She checked her watch as she made for the lift. Perfect timing. Her heart skipped a beat as she was greeted by Georges himself with a welcoming smile and a compliment on the cakes she'd sent to be taste-tested in advance. Optimism spread through her entire being and the next thirty minutes were the best of her life so far. An order was placed and the documents signed. She was now a bona fide supplier of artisan confectionery to the Queen!

Well, that was what she was going to tell people!

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Brimming with excitement and anxious to start celebrating with a glass of champagne, she arrived at the check-in stand of the Diamond Jubilee Tea Salon. As the pianist entertained the afternoon tea aficionados with a selection of tunes from the West End, she gave her name to the maître d' who led her straight to a table by the window overlooking Piccadilly.

She hadn't expected to be the first to arrive. One of Alex's less attractive traits was a tendency to lateness but she had expected him to make a special effort that day. After all, he only had to travel from Pimlico. She thanked the waiter who offered her the menu to peruse while she waited.

Ten past three.

Still no sign of Alex.

She checked her phone for messages.

Nothing.

At twenty past three the waiter returned and asked if she'd like to order a pot of tea while she waited. She felt a blast of heat suffuse her cheeks. Everyone around her was in the throes of celebrating something – just like she should be. There had been two renditions of ‘Happy Birthday' already. A couple of people had glanced over in her direction and given her a look of sympathy. She was clearly making it obvious she was waiting for someone who had the audacity to be late. She always felt irritated when Alex was late. It was as though he was sending her a message that his time was much more important than hers – that he was a solicitor with a busy, important job to do while she only made desserts for people.

She smiled at the waiter who was kind enough to ignore her discomfort and took his time to talk her though the myriad blends of exotic teas on offer. She settled for the Royal Blend and sat back on the pale-blue banquette working on remaining calm and maintaining a façade of nonchalance. It wasn't working. She could feel her frustration bubbling in her stomach and her jaw ached from keeping a smile plastered on her face.

It was three-forty-five when she heard the heavy footsteps approach and Alex slid into the chair opposite her.

‘Sorry I'm late. Have you ordered?'

‘Alex, where have you been? I've been sitting here by myself for the last three quarters of an hour!'

‘I said sorry. I had to go into the office. We've got a complex set of interconnecting takeovers on at the moment.' Alex wasn't even looking at her; instead he was studying the menu. He decided swiftly and placed his order with the waiter, not meeting his eye either.

‘You could have called me to let me know you would be late!'

‘Well, I just lost track of the time, to be honest. You know what it's like, Lucie. We have dated before. If we're going to make this work, you need to understand how much harder I have to work now that I'm a partner at Carter & Mayhew.'

Lucie opened her mouth to respond but found no words. Why had she even agreed to meet this stranger who sat opposite her? He clearly had no interest in the outcome of the meeting she'd just had with Georges, which had changed the course of her life and which they should by now be celebrating. But then Alex had never shown the slightest interest in her career, so why did she think he would be any different today? In fact, the realisation hit her with sledgehammer force. She'd moved on from Alex's shadow a long time ago and was, at that very moment, basking in her own self-made spotlight of happiness.

And she only had one person to thank for that.

Ed.

A razor-sharp image of him in his chef's whites floated across her vision and she closed her eyes to savour the way his fringe flopped over his forehead, the curl of his lips as he rolled his eyes at something she had said that he didn't agree with, his taut abdomen as she leaned on him after flying along a zip wire. She wondered what it would be like to be able to kiss him any time she wanted, to have his arms wrapped around her shoulders, protecting her from the random grenades life had a habit of tossing in her path.

The familiar frisson of electricity shot through her veins when she recalled how he'd fastened his espresso eyes on hers and smiled at her in that way of his – as though she were the only girl in the world. She loved him! That's what the turmoil of emotions was whenever her thoughts lingered on his sultry good looks or his gentle guidance about reaching for culinary excellence.

She had to get out of there and tell him!

But before she could grab her bag and make her excuses, Alex reached across the starched linen table cloth and clutched her hand. There was no accompanying reaction from her body – her heart plodded on without a single acknowledgement of his touch – which sealed her decision.

With stupendously bad timing, their afternoon tea arrived on a silver-tiered cake stand and Lucie's intentions were temporarily diverted. After all, it had been her idea to meet Alex there, and if this was to be the last time she saw him she needed them to part on amicable terms. She chose a coronation chicken sandwich and then helped herself to one of the fruit scones, which she cut in half and spread with lashings of clotted cream and Fortnum & Mason's exceptional blueberry jam. She made a mental note to buy a jar on her way out. She had saved the best until last – the selection of patisserie on the top tier: macaroons, eclairs, bite-sized lemon meringues.

Despite the wonderful food and the exquisite surroundings, Alex was continuing to regale her with the details of the takeover deal he was working on. As usual, his monologue made little sense to her, nor did she have much interest in the ins and outs of the effect of organising an off-shore component to the deal. Yet she noticed his voice held a slight quiver and his teacup rattled in his saucer when he curled his fingers around the handle. She was amazed to see he was nervous.

‘Alex?'

The look on his face told her he was surprised to have been interrupted. She saw he was confused, unsure what to say. In fact, his whole demeanour seemed agitated and a nervous twitch had appeared at the corner of his mouth. She decided to lead with the main item on the carefully crafted list she had drafted in the taxi on her way there.

‘I think we should be talking about why you turned down my proposal.'

‘Yes, you're right.'

‘So?'

Again the strained, puzzled expression, and something else she was unable to decipher.

‘I thought I'd explained when we met at the pub in Richmond. Your proposal came out of the blue. It was a genuine shock and I panicked. But I've had time to consider it now and… well… actually…' Alex made to get up from his chair, but she wasn't letting him off the hook so easily. He could visit the bathroom when she had her long-awaited answers.

‘And why did you refuse my calls afterwards? I was devastated, Alex. I just couldn't understand your reaction. I needed you to explain it to me. To give me a reason for your rejection so I could work through the pain. But all you offered me was a wall of silence. I lost all rationality. And you know what happened with Ed…' Then she remembered Alex's one text, a bland enquiry as to her well-being along the same lines as if his maiden aunt were recovering from a bout of lumbago. ‘Your girlfriend was in meltdown and you turned your back, put your career first.'

‘Lucie, you've always been aware of the importance of my career. And you were everywhere. I took some stick from my colleagues, I can tell you. Livid Lucie, they called you. Did you know that?'

‘Of course I knew! I was living through a nightmare and you ignored me!'

‘But that's all water under the bridge. If we're going to start again we should agree to move on and not mention that… erm, blip again. Now, erm…' Alex glanced over his shoulder and signalled to the waiter. Within seconds, a bottle of champagne arrived and was set down on the table in front of them with a crystal flute each. ‘Lucie, what I
want
now is for you to be my wife.'

Lucie's jaw gaped as Alex stood up and moved to her side of the table. He lowered himself on one knee, took her hand and held open a pale-blue velvet box in which a diamond solitaire nestled.

‘Lucie Emily Bradshaw, will you marry me?'

Chapter Thirty

Alex's smile of expectation encompassed his whole face. But as the seconds ticked by his smile began to fade. Lucie hadn't wanted to keep him there on one knee, in front of the other diners, but her brain had frozen and she struggled to formulate a response. Myriad thoughts tumbled around her mind, her jaw see-sawing as she tried to come up with an appropriate reaction.

‘Alex, it's too late for us,' she whispered. ‘Sorry.'

Alex glanced at the couple at the table next to them who swiftly averted their eyes having realised this was not going to be a celebration. He pocketed the jewellery box and slid back into his chair, his eyes fixed on Lucie.

‘But how do you know until we've tried?'

‘Well, several reasons. One is because you haven't once asked me about the Travelling Cupcake Company.'

‘About what?'

‘It's my new business venture. I run a mobile cake-baking business: children's birthday parties, christenings, weddings, you know. And I love it. The thought of giving it up and coming back to live in London fills me with dread. I don't think I'll ever be as happy as I am decorating cupcakes with a dozen five-year-olds, making as much mess as possible and then licking away the evidence. And I love being with my family, seeing them every day, hearing their gossip, listening to their advice. But there's another reason we're not destined to be together.'

‘What's that?' Alex had stopped smiling. He'd leaned back in his chair and shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit trousers, a sure indication he was annoyed.

‘We dated for almost two years and you never showed the slightest bit of interest in how I spent my days. It was all about you and your career and your ambition to become a partner before the age of thirty. To you, baking cakes and desserts was little more than a hobby, a way for me to pass my time until a window opened up in your schedule when you could see me. But to me it's a part of who I am, a passionate connection with the art of feeding people, a craving to see their reaction when they taste something I've created especially for them. That, Alex, is just as important as making mountains of money for a few clients who have more than enough already.

‘Food – and love – make the world go round, not money! So, the final reason why I won't marry you, Alex, is because I don't love you. I've changed. I'm no longer Lapdog Lucie, waiting in the wings until you toss a few crumbs of your time in my direction. I'm Liberated Lucie, happy to lead my own life on my own terms, without a partner if that's my fate. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's someone I have to talk to.'