The front door slammed and Mia heard footsteps running through the hall, before Willow burst into the kitchen, carrying a large box of fresh fruit and vegetables.

“You…are…never…going…to…believe…what…happened!” She was so breathless she could barely get the words out.

Mia laughed. “Whoa, slow down!” She filled a glass of water for Willow and handed it to her. Willow downed it in three gulps.

“What am I never going to believe?” Mia was still in her pyjamas standing at the kitchen bench, the Saturday papers spread in front of her, a bowl of muesli balanced in one hand. She had been woken early by the smells of biscotti wafting through the house and although Willow hadn’t really spoken about it, she suspected that it had something to do with the mystery man from a few weeks ago.

“He asked me out!” Willow’s eyes were shining, her cheeks flushed.

Mia grinned, happy for her friend. She couldn’t help the small, gnawing feeling in her stomach, though. Jealousy? She glanced at her phone on the bench. She had kept it within reach for the entire week, but he hadn’t called. Not even a text.

Mia smiled brightly at Willow. The last thing she wanted was to rain on her friend’s parade.

Willow clasped her hands together and announced, “I have to bake!”

For Willow, baking was just about the most cathartic experience in the world. She baked to relieve stress, when she was excited, when she was feeling down – as far as Willow was concerned, there was a baked good for every occasion.

After many years of observation, Mia and Ana were able to tell what was going on in Willow’s life just by what she spontaneously baked. Labour-intensive pastries – cannoli or croissant – meant that she was stressed out by something; bread indicated a morose mood; savoury pies signified annoyance; sweet pies, satisfaction; biscuits for anticipation… the list went on.

“What’s it going to be today?” Mia asked, although she suspected she knew the answer already.

Willow looked pensive for a moment. “Cupcakes!”

Cupcakes represented the pinnacle of happiness in Willow’s hierarchy of baking.

That moment, Mia’s phone rang. She looked at the screen and frowned. Withheld number.

It couldn’t be… could it?

Her heart pounded as she pressed answer. “Hello?”

A male responded. “Mia?”

The voice was familiar but she couldn’t place it. “Yes?”

“This is Nick. You used to teach me Pilates….?” His voice trailed off, unsure if she would remember him.

Nick! Mia’s mouth dropped open. She hadn’t seen him for… months! He had been a client of hers for a long time and then one day he changed time-slots and she hadn’t seen him since. Mia had been devastated. Secretly, she had been in love with Nick from the moment she first set eyes on him, but had always been too shy to ask him out. Her inaction had spent a long time at number one on her extensive list of regrets.

Well, maybe not quite so high now, after the events of last weekend, she thought angrily. Mia shook her head, bringing herself back to the present.

“Of course. How are you?” She wondered why he was calling her – and more to the point, how he got her number…?

“You’re probably wondering how I got your number…”

What was he, a mind reader?

“I know it’s late notice, but I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight?” His voice sounded vulnerable, expectant.

“Go out tonight?” Mia wasn’t sure she heard correctly.

“I’ve been meaning to call for weeks, but I’ve been away for work… it’s a long story. Can I fill you in over dinner?”

“Dinner tonight?” Mia the parrot.

His laughter tinkled down the phone. “Yes. With me.” He added quickly, “Unless you’ve got other plans…?”

Mia slowly shook her head. “No… no, I don’t.”

Her mind was reeling as Nick suggested when and where to meet. She hung up the phone, a bewildered expression on her face. She had dreamt about this happening for so long, so why wasn’t she more excited?

When she finally looked up, Willow was surveying her friend quizzically.

“I have a date tonight.” She spoke slowly. “With Nick.”

Willow’s eyes widened in surprise and she bounded over and gave Mia a quick hug, leaving a trail of self-raising flour in her wake. “What are the chances? Both going out with our dream men tonight!”

Nick. Her dream man. He had been for such a long time. So what had changed?

Her phone rang again. Same thing, number withheld. He probably needs to change the time, she thought. She answered more quickly this time, the butterflies gone. “Hello again.”

“Mia?” A different voice, still male, still familiar.

“Yeah?”

“Johnny.”

Mia knocked her empty bowl, the spoon falling to the floor with a loud clatter.

“You OK?” He sounded amused, like he was aware of the effect he had on her.

She cursed herself and took a breath, steadying her nerves. Be cool. “What’s up?”

“Just wondering if you wanted to grab a drink later. Say 7pm. In town somewhere?”

Her heart pounded. Maybe she could call Nick back, cancel? She groaned inwardly – she didn’t even have his number, it had been withheld and she hadn’t thought to ask for it. “I can’t.”

More than anything she wanted to see Johnny. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, dreaming about him. She wracked her brain, trying to think of another time to suggest. Tomorrow? Or during the week?

But before she could say anything, he spoke.

“Fair enough. Catch you later then.”

He hung up.

Willow was sifting flour into a large mixing bowl. “Nick again?”

Mia shook her head. “Umm… work. Needed a shift covered.”

She couldn’t look up at Willow for fear that she’d see the tears in her eyes.

***

In his kitchen, Johnny swore out loud. He had been trying to pick up the phone and call her all week, but nerves had got the better of him each time. Finally he’d mustered up the courage… to no avail. He thought there had been something between them, something unbelievable. But she obviously didn’t. Probably put it down to the Champagne, the celebratory mood. She clearly wanted to have nothing to do with him. He ran his hands through his hair, frustrated.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about her.