Page 70 of No Match Found
“Is he as nice as he seems?” The suggestive brow raise that accompanied the words made me want to take a hammer and tap it back into place. “We’re supposed to go out tonight, but it’d be nice to get the inside scoop from someone who’s known him longer than five minutes.”
The green monster inside wanted to tell her Grant was an awful person and she’d have a miserable night with him. That he’d take her apart question by innocuous question, then leave her like an unfinished puzzle.
“He’s great,” I said. “You’ll have a good time.”
She sighed in relief. “Thank you for the reassurance.” She closed up the box. “You sure you don’t want a maple bar with these?”
“I’m positive.” I put out my hand for the box.
I was about to become an apple fritter fanatic.
TWENTY-ONE
“Don’t do it, Viv.”
I yanked my gaze from Grant and Jenna, who were chatting at the front desk, and found Katie watching me with wary amusement.
I grabbed my copies from the copy machine. “Do what?” I asked and headed for my office.
Katie walked with me. “You look like you have it out for Jenna, and I need to remind you how hard it was to find a receptionist.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I love Jenna.”
“Loved her—past tense—until she started flirting with Grant five minutes ago.”
I pushed open the door of my office. “Do you have some work you’d like to discuss, Katie? Or do I need to assign you a new project?” I shuffled through a stack of papers.
She sat on the edge of my desk. “Viv.”
I looked up questioningly.
She tilted her head to the side. “Talk to me.”
I pressed my lips together. Talking about the things I’d been feeling over the weekend was the last thing I wanted to do.
There had been no question-and-answer texts from Grant on SaturdayorSunday, which meant that my mind had gone to the only logical place: Grant and Jill had hit it off, were spending every second together, and were probably considering eloping.
As a perfect counter to that scenario, my Matchify inbox was as lively as a funeral. Leo had been removed from Matchify, but neither Tanner nor Jeff had reached out to me since our dates.The conclusions I had jumped to about Grant and Jill might’ve been extreme, but even a conservative interpretation of my Matchify inbox wasn’t a flattering one.
“Youneedto talk,” Katie pressed me, her voice more earnest than usual.
“What’s there to say?” I said, buckling under her sincerity.
“It depends how deep in denial you are, I guess.”
I shot her a flat look, but she was spot on. I was in the Mariana Trench of denial, swimming around with my fellow, weird anglerfish.
“I saw you bring him in here, Viv.” Katie nodded at Cam Carter, whom I had indeed invited to rejoin me in my office. “You hate Cam.”
“I don’t hate Cam,” I argued. I’d brought him back because, even though he was made of 100% recyclable material, I didn’t want to be alone with Grant.
“You fell for him.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. And she wasn’t talking about Cam.
Hearing her say it aloud was like nails on a chalkboard.
“I’ve been watching it happen, you know,” she continued, dragging Kourtney Kardashian-length nails down the chalkboard. “Heck, I’ve encouraged it—mostly because I think you need to get back in the dating game. But I didn’t realize how serious it was until that punk Alex ran your profiles and you saw the 12%.”
My jaw slipped open. Dideveryoneknow our actual compatibility percentage? “How do you know the percenta—you know what? Nevermind. I don’t even want to know. What does it have to do with anything?”
