Julie Caplin - The Little Brooklyn Bakery - A heartwarming feel good novel full of cakes and romance!

‘Hey, English.’

‘Todd! Hi,’ her voice squeaked unbecomingly in utter relief.

‘Morning. You found your way here OK, then.’

‘Yes, but I’ve left my phone behind and all the paperwork. I can’t remember who I was supposed to ask for.’

‘No problem. I’ll take you up.’ He leaned over the desk. ‘Hey, Terri. She’s with me.’

An instant smile lifted the girl’s perfectly made-up mannequin face. ‘Hey Todd, how you doing?’

‘Good, you?’

‘Better if you’d take me out for lunch.’ Her chin dipped in coy invitation.

‘Now Terri, you know I don’t mix business with pleasure.’

‘A girl can try,’ her eyes lowered with seductive promise. ‘You don’t know what you’re missing.’

‘I know,’ said Todd mournfully. ‘It’s a burden I have to bear.’

With a quick rueful pout, she pushed a pass over the desk. ‘Here you go.’

‘Thanks for rescuing me,’ said Sophie as he guided her through the barriers towards the huge escalators, unable to stop herself adding, ‘even though you put yourself in the face of danger there.’

He gave her a cheerful grin. ‘One likes to do one’s duty. They’re pretty tight on security here. You could have had a long wait while they checked you out.’

Sophie stared around her. ‘This place is impressive.’

‘You get used to it.’ He shrugged. ‘We’re up on the thirty-third floor.’

She followed him through a seating area filled with bright sunshine to the bank of lifts, and they sailed upwards with a stomach-dropping whoosh, and in seconds the doors opened with a ping. Her nerves settled with instant relief at the sight of the familiar logo of the magazine on a large glass panel. This looked more like it. Beyond the glass, she could see desks ranked just like back in London. Suddenly everything didn’t feel quite so alien and intimidating.

With a wave at the girl on the reception desk, Todd pushed her forward.

‘This is Sophie. She’s the job swap with Brandi.’

The young woman looked up, a quick expression of appalled horror crossing her face, which she masked almost instantly.

‘I’ll let Trudy know you’re here.’

After a ten-minute wait, which seemed agonisingly long, Sophie was led down the hall to a glass-walled office in the corner.

‘Trudy, this is Sophie. The job swap.’

‘Sophie, nice to meet you. Erm …’ said the tall, dark-haired woman, rising and smoothing her hand down a slim-fitting pencil skirt before holding it out.

She looked at the receptionist, her eyes flashing some hidden message. ‘Right, erm … take a seat. I’ll be right back.’

Sophie sank into the chair and stared out at the view beyond. New York spread out before her, the green of what had to be Central Park, the trees – so small from up here – reminding her of heads of broccoli, the intricate layout of rooftops a long way below which looked like Airfix models, detailed with water towers and air-conditioning units, and in the distance edging the park, more skyscrapers, blinding white in the brilliant sunshine like sentries on the border. Did you ever get tired of this view, she wondered. It was incredible.

She waited, the minutes ticking by. The tension was back, poking at her shoulders, the muscles bunching. Something was wrong. Surely they were expecting her. It had all been confirmed by email. Admittedly in a rush, but now she could remember Trudy Winkler, Editorial Director. They’d exchanged several emails, copied into the HR Manager. Sophie told herself not to panic. They probably hadn’t got her desk cleared. Maybe it still had balloons and crumbs covering it.

Trudy came back, a smile plastered on her face. ‘Right. Well … actually, there’s been a slight hitch. Nothing to worry about.’ She smoothed her skirt again. ‘We, erm … well. When … erm, Mel, wasn’t it, had her accident, we didn’t think anyone could fill her place … Oh, this is embarrassing. One of the board offered his friend’s daughter an internship … to cover Brandi’s job.’

Sophie’s fingers curled over the edge of her seat, holding on tightly.

‘Don’t worry … it’s fine. You can job share with Madison … it’s just we need to find you another desk, it won’t be with the other cookery writers, I’m afraid, but we’ll find—’

The phone rang on her desk and she grabbed it like a lifebelt.

‘Ah, thanks. That’s great. Perfect. I’ll bring her over.’

A real smile lit up her face. ‘Problem solved. Come on.’

She led Sophie through the office, where heads were bent over their laptops with studious intent as if they didn’t dare look up and acknowledge there’d been a booboo. Only one girl caught Sophie’s eye, her bright-red lips stretching in a slightly smug and triumphant smirk. Immediately Sophie knew. This was Madison, the intern. But as Trudy led her across the room past a few more desks into an area by the window, the girl’s expression changed to one of dismay.

‘Sophie, let me introduce you. Todd writes our Man About Town column.’

‘Hi, we meet again.’ Todd flashed her his usual lighthouse-beam grin. Seriously, that smile should come a health warning, it belonged in a Hollywood blockbuster.

‘You two have met?’

‘Remember I fixed up the rental on my cousin’s place?’

‘Yeah, of course. You’re our regular Mr Fixit. Need a new screen for your phone, know where to buy fresh Oregano or find a holiday let in the Hamptons? Todd is our man.’ Despite her brusque words, she shot him a wry, fond look. ‘And somehow, Todd has managed to appropriate a second desk.’ She wrinkled her forehead. ‘And I have no idea how he did that or how it gets to be in this state.’ Trudy gave the messy surface a plaintive frown.

‘Hey English, we’re going to be roomies.’ He swept a pile of paper from the surface of the desk and dumped it into a box which he then put under his own desk, with a cheerful shrug. ‘No idea what any of that is but I haven’t looked at it in a month.’

‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Todd McLennan.’

‘Work, boss. Work,’ supplied Todd.

Trudy sighed, but smiled back at him. ‘That’s what you’re calling it?’ She turned back to Sophie. ‘I’m still not sure why we employ him, other than he’s cute to look at.’

Cute was the understatement of the century but she said it without irony. Maybe familiarity bred immunity.

‘And the readers love me.’ He tilted back in his chair, his hands behind his head.

‘Unfortunately, he has a point there.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Voted most popular column last month, and he’s won a couple of awards, but we try not to let it go to his head.’

At that point Todd, with a silly cartoon gesture, as if he didn’t take them terribly seriously, pointed to a couple of crystal-glass trophies on the shelf behind his desk which were doing sterling work as paperweights to teetering piles of paper.

‘However, he has volunteered to clean this desk up for you.’ Her pointed look had him jumping to his feet.

Ignoring him, she focused on Sophie, ‘I’m really sorry about the mix-up. But if you can get yourself set up here … without the aid of a hazmat suit, hopefully … then you can join us for the editorial meeting at ten-fifty. Todd’ll show you where everything is.’

Sophie nodded, noticing Madison gliding up behind Trudy.

‘Hey Todd.’ The younger girl flashed him the sort of predatory smile a prowling jaguar would have been proud of. ‘Look Trudy, maybe I should swap desks. Let …’ she nodded towards Sophie, ‘have Brandi’s desk. It’s with the other food writers. It probably makes sense. I can sit here with Todd.’

Sophie just bet she could.