Ella
I stare at his message. My heart is racing so fast, I can't catch my breath.
Jamie:
If you're willing to give it a shot, I'll make it worth your while.
I read the words again. And then again as if the message will turn into something safer and less... loaded if I keep reading.
It doesn't.
The words sit on the screen in bold letters, daring me to reply.
Can I really do this? Can I really pack up everything I know and go thousands of miles away to a place I've never been to live with a man I've never met?
No. Marry a man I've never met.
Before I can reply, another message comes in.
Jamie:
Sorry if that was too direct. I go after what I want.
And he wants me? My stomach flips and my hand flies to my mouth in disbelief. Could it be possible that he wants me after only a few messages?
The little voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like Aunt Beryl pipes up, but I shut her down before I can hear what she has to say.
Why wouldn't Jamie want me?
We're a match. We both want the same thing. That's why we're on the site.
I swallow down the lump in my throat before I craft my response.
I write and delete over a dozen drafts, second-guessing everything until I don't even remember what I want to say in the first place.
In my hand, my phone vibrates and rings with an incoming phone call. The Mountain Mates site is replaced with the face of Aunt Beryl.
No doubt, she's calling to chastise me for leaving Clarissa's shower early and tell me all of the very important details I missed. I shouldn't answer the call. I know it'll leave me feeling terrible. Still, my sense of duty—or maybe it's guilt—is strong.
With a sigh, I swipe and answer the call.
"Hi, Aunt Beryl. How was?—"
"I don't have time for chatter today, . I'm very busy."
I sit back in my chair with a shake of my head. "Okay. Why did?—"
"We're working on the guest list for the wedding," she interrupts me. "Clarissa is worried there won't be enough room."
"For what?" I don't say it, but my cousin doesn't have a lot of friends, and I don't get the impression her fiancé is a social butterfly either.
"For the guests, ." Beryl only barely conceals her contempt. "Which is why I'm calling."
"How can I help?"
"You can't," she says curtly. "But I wanted to let you know that since you're not dating anyone, and that's unlikely to change before the wedding, or anytime," she adds under her breath before continuing, "we aren't going to give you a plus one for the wedding."
"What?" There is no way I heard her correctly. She's assuming that there's no way I could possibly secure a plus one for Clarissa's wedding, that is almost seven months away. Because I'm so...so me?
I shouldn't be surprised. Not after years of her hurtful comments. Still, it stings.
I swallow hard. "I might meet someone."
Her sharp laughter hurts more than her words. "Come on, . You're not going to meet anyone."
I squeeze my eyes shut and see Jamie's profile picture. But I have met someone.
Sort of.
"I'll tell you what," Beryl's still talking. "If a miracle happens and you meet someone between now and then, we'll work it out, okay?"
I don't know what to say. Tears prick at my eyes, but I refuse to cry, even if she can't see me.
"Sounds good, Aunt Beryl." Somehow, I manage to keep the emotion from my voice and hang up. I take a moment to pull myself together before clicking back to the Mountain Mates app.
With a boldness I didn't possess a moment ago, I type my reply.