He checked the display before answering: the Holborn branch. ‘Hi, Amy. What’s up?’
‘You know I was having problems with the steam wand the other day, and you sorted it out? It’s gone funny again. I’m trying to get it to work, but could you pop in on your way to Charlotte Street?’
‘Yeah, sure. I’ll get Sal to open up here. Be with you in a few minutes.’
By the time he’d got to Holborn, the steam wand was working perfectly again.
‘I feel really guilty, dragging you out here over nothing,’ Amy said. ‘But as you’re here, I was wondering if we could have a chat about something? There’s a writers’ group who’d like to meet here on Wednesday evenings and they asked me if we could open late. I know we don’t normally do evenings, but I’ve got a business plan. It’ll only take me ten minutes to talk you through…’
More like half an hour, but Gio knew the Charlotte Street branch was safe in Sally’s hands—not to mention Fran being in the office if there was a problem elsewhere.
He didn’t think anything of it until he was walking down Charlotte Street and noticed something odd about the exterior of the café.
Red balloons tied to the door, he saw as he got nearer.
Balloons that said ‘Happy Birthday’.
And when he walked into the café, spread across the back of the bar was a huge banner that said ‘Happy 29th birthday, Gio’, surrounded by balloons.
Before he had the chance to take it in, his mother, father and grandmother stepped out of the office, together with Fran. Fran counted them in, and they started singing ‘Happy Birthday to You’ to him, along with Ian and Sally.
Even the customers joined in.
He’d barely registered that today was his birthday—the post hadn’t arrived before he left, and he never really bothered making a fuss over the day anyway.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ he said. ‘Balloons?’
‘There are twenty-nine—one for every year of your age,’ Fran told him with a grin. ‘Count them, if you like. Now sit down and I’ll make you a coffee.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘When did you do all this?’ Then the penny dropped. ‘That call this morning from Amy—you set it up, didn’t you?’
She nodded. ‘I needed you out of the way until we’d put up the balloons and banner. But she was going to talk to you about the writing-group thing anyway.’
‘You know about that?’ At her raised eyebrow, he sighed. ‘You did the business plan, didn’t you?’
‘It was a joint effort with Amy, but, yes,’ she admitted.
She made an espresso, then heated the milk. And Gio watched, open-mouthed, as Fran made him a latte and free-poured a perfect rosetta on the top. ‘Happy birthday, honey,’ she said with a smile.
He stared at the mug, and then at her. ‘You made me a rosetta.’
‘Mmm. I should’ve made it a cake and a candle, really. But that would mean using a needle and cocoa, and I thought you might like this a little bit more.’ Her eyes glittered with mischief. ‘Not to mention a little wager we had—which had a deadline of this Friday, I believe.’
He groaned. ‘Oh, no. You’ve been practising, haven’t you?’
‘Yup.’
‘Which means you win the chocolates.’
She spread her hands. ‘Don’t blame me. You’re the one who set high stakes. Which were, and I quote, “I’ll take you to Fortnum’s and buy you the biggest box of chocolates of your choice.”’
He noticed Sally was beaming, and leaned against the counter. ‘You’ve been giving her coaching, Sal, haven’t you?’
‘For a half-share in those chocolates? You bet I have!’ The barista chuckled. ‘Though, I admit, my pupil worked pretty hard.’
‘It’s cheating. Absolute cheating,’ Gio said.
‘Ah, no. You merely gave me a time limit. You didn’t say that I couldn’t get anyone else to help me,’ Fran reminded him.
‘I don’t know what to say.’ He gestured at the balloons and the banner. ‘I really wasn’t expecting this.’
Her smile broadened. ‘Well, I haven’t quite finished yet. In fact, I’m expecting a delivery—’ Gio heard the door click open ‘—about right now.’
CHAPTER NINE
GIO frowned as he saw Ingrid in the doorway. From the look of the baskets on the counter, they’d already had their cake delivery for the day. Why on earth would their baker need to come back a second time?
The answer lay in the large white box she was carrying. ‘One special delivery, Fran,’ she said, and put the cake between Fran and Gio.