The refuse truck shuddered the sash windows as it passed Will's front door. He waited for the last of the diesel fumes to dissipate before starting the timer on his watch. Mrs Phillips' Basset Hound regarded him with watery eyes as he pounded past the daffodils and around the mailbox. There was a bite in the air, not that he noticed. His head was full of yesterday's disaster.
Every Tuesday he saw Carrie at the board meeting, and every Tuesday for the past nine weeks he had left a treat, a gesture, a favour on her chair. He delighted in watching her eyes twinkle as they landed on a card, a chocolate, a bunch of wildflowers and then fumble with the strap of her bag before sitting, flushed and happy across the table from him. Play it cool, Lloyd had said. Don't let on that you mean anything more than friendship. Well, after nine and a half weeks of friendship, Will was ready for more. His feet crunched on the gravel before he turned onto the footpath through the forest. There was no guidebook with a timeline to show Where He Was in The Potential Relationship. Despite Lloyd's protestations, he decided to text her on Wednesday night and let her believe it was out of the blue.
There had been banter, winking emojis, definite innuendo; as far as Will was concerned, it was a success. And, after viewing screenshots, Lloyd confirmed she was indeed flirting. Fast forward to Thursday morning, and it was as though the Winter of Westeros descended on the office. Will found himself on the receiving end of icy stares from the women, knowing winks from the men and a downright scowl from Mr Peggity, the HR manager.
"I understand you have been harrassing Carrie. Care to explain yourself?"
Will handed over his phone and cringed as Mr Peggity read through their conversation.
"Well." He cleared his throat. "I'd say it was a consensual conversation. But it seems she's changed her mind this morning."
Will studied Mr Peggity's nameplate.
"Better luck next time. But lie low for a few days, Will. I don't want a tense meeting on Tuesday."
Will lost his footing between two pine trees. He placed his hand on the bark as he bent over, heaving. The ache in his chest was not a stitch; it stung like shame. As his breathing normalised, he resolved to finish his run: lingering would not solve anything. He twisted his back as he stretched his arms and felt his elbow connect with something.
"Ow. God!"
His eye snagged on the pink pompom of the owner's hat.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes." She giggled. "That will teach me. Sorry, I was miles away."
Will offered a hand to help her up. "I didn't think anyone else ran here this early."
"I do. I'm usually behind you. You always seem as though you have something chasing you. I prefer to dawdle, you know. Appreciate nature. It's part of this mindfulness challenge I'm doing." She dusted herself off. "I'm Amy."
"Will. Where exactly was your mind when you slammed into me?"
"I was trying to remember what kind of cake I had for my fifth birthday."
"Huh."
"Sounds crazy, I know. I'm a confectioner. Cake batter is my life." She looked away and then down. "Hey, you should tie those."
Will followed her gaze and then knelt.
"My mother says double knots are a runner's best friend. I learnt to do them when I was three. But learning to undo them came later." Amy plunged her hands into her pockets. "Sorry. I know I'm rambling. It tends to happen when I'm around cute guys."
When he looked up, the light coming through the trees haloed her face.
She laughed at his expression. "Tell you what, I'll walk the last stretch with you. And I promise to let you talk the whole way."
Will let her encircle his arm with hers and steer them in the opposite direction to the route he usually ran.
"So, Will, tell me about yourself."
It was unusual for him to arrive late. It was even more unusual for Will to bring cake to work.
"What's this for?"
"I'm starting a new tradition: Confection Fridays."
Lloyd took a bite of a chocolate mousse square and pulled a face. "That's so good." He dusted his mouth. "What brought this on?"
"Amy."
No matter how many times she twisted and retwisted the piping bag, she could not stop the farting of icing on the fairy cakes for Jenna's tenth birthday.
"Something is off with you today. Have you finally realised that mindfulness is a load of..."
"No, it's not that." Amy wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and left a smear of icing in its wake.
Shannon's fingers snapped next to her ear. "Then get it together, girl. We've got orders piling up."
Amy threw down the piping bag. "It's a boy. I mean a man. A man I met in the forest."
"Ew, please tell me he wasn't homeless."
"No. I've seen him before. The sprinter? Except I now know his name is Will."
Shannon stopped whipping the cream. "Oh no. No, no, no, no. No! I know that look. You've already come up with the names for your babies. Am I right?"
Amy flung a dishcloth over her face. "I can't help it."
"Yes, you can. And you are going to do whatever mindfulness trick they teach you at that class to focus and finish that damn order because Jenna's mother is showing up in twenty minutes and I want her to leave with fairy cakes and not speak to us again for at least another three hundred and sixty days. Got that?"
"What is in those cakes, Will? And where did you get them? Half the women are swooning around the office and I haven't seen anyone look productive today. Except maybe Agatha, but that's because she's on a liquid diet or something."
Will replaced Linda's stapler and surveyed the office behind him. "Couldn't tell you, Linny. You'd have to ask the confectioner."
"I think I will. What's the place called?"
"See Amy Bake. It's on the other end of town. I think the number is on the box. I can get it for you..."
"Nevermind. Google." Linda was dialling.
Will smiled. It seemed as though he was the Pied Piper of cake today. His phone beeped. From Carrie. She wanted to see him in the kitchen. Now. This was turning into an interesting day.
"You texted?" Will waved his phone at Carrie.
She blushed. "Yes. I think I owe you an apology."
"What for?"
"I know you weren't harrassing me. I suppose it was only fair that I talk to you after all those things you gave me. But all this cake... It's too much, Will. I'm still deciding if I like you."
"You think I brought this for you?"
"You didn't?"
"No. My new girlfriend had leftover baked goods from yesterday and I offered to take them off her hands."
"Oh."
"Well, this is awkward. Didn't Mr Peggity tell you I was under instructions to stay away from you?"
"Yes, but I thought this was your way of showing me how you felt."
"I did, Carrie. For nine long weeks I showed you every Tuesday. Then you took your Jimmy Choo stilletto and rammed it into my heart the second I tried to take it further."
"It's called playing hard to get."
"Ah, right. Which is why Mr Peggity called me in and read all our messages."
"He read them? Oh god."
"Yeah." Will leant past her to get a muffin. "I think we're done."
Carrie laughed. "Oh, right. It's just. For a moment there I thought you were going to kiss me."
"I think it's a bit late for that." Will's phone rang. "Amy? How are you? Your cakes are a hit." He left Carrie gaping behind him.
"Will, it's Lloyd, you daft prick."
"I know. I was messing with someone."
"I won't ask who. Listen, about our pitch at three... I've had an idea."
Shannon flicked the 'open' sign over so that it showed that the store was officially closed. "We made it. And I promise to never knock mindfulness again. Whatever they are doing with you, it seems to be working."
"Thanks." Amy dried the last of the baking trays and packed them away.
They looked in the direction of the front door.
"Did we forget an order?"
"Not that I know of. Here, you put these cloths in the washer and I'll see what they want."
Amy yanked the cord for the blind and saw a familiar figure. "Hello there."
"I love this place. It smells of cake batter."
"Story of my life."
"I was wondering whether you had any plans for dinner."
"Who is it?" Shannon's voice sounded muffled. "No, wait. I'm guessing it's Shoelaces."
"Who is Shoelaces?"
"It's Shannon's codename for you." Amy turned her head. "Lucky guess."
"Lock up when you're done. Good night."
"Night," they chorused.
"So, about that dinner?"
"Give me five minutes."
"My car is the blue one over there." Will grinned. "By the way, who are you calling Shoelaces?"
Amy laughed. "In my defence, I untied them earlier so that I could change to go home."
"Whatever. See you in five."
Amy shut the door behind him and closed the blinds. She offered a silent thanks to her mother for teaching her to tie her shoes. She had the feeling her life was about to become full of double knots.
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