Chapter 10
TEN
While Leo was the first to reach out, Jeff didn’t waste time once he responded. He seemed not at all put off by me taking initiative. In fact, he suggested we meet for dinner the following evening.
“Jeff’s hot to trot,” Grant commented when I ran the date and time by him.
We had to coordinate with Grant too, after all.
This was so weird.
“Or,” I said, opening my calendar to add the date, “he doesn’t like wasting time, which I can definitely appreciate.
” I was genuinely curious—and more than a little nervous—for the date.
Jeff was a tech executive. He’d get me in ways most people wouldn’t.
His messages so far had been the perfect amount of polite and to-the-point.
He also hadn’t minded when I’d disclosed that I had a journalist shadowing me for work. “Why are you smiling like that?”
Grant lifted a shoulder and twirled his pencil between his fingers. “Just wondering what type of doesn’t want to waste time guy Jeff is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I glanced at Jeff’s message in Matchify and copied the address of the restaurant he’d suggested into my calendar.
“It means that I’m curious how exactly his impatience will manifest—professionally, emotionally…physically.”
I stopped typing and looked at Grant, who had a brow cocked.
I returned to typing. “For someone who loves the unvarnished truth so much, you sure like to traffic in implication.”
He chuckled.
“Besides,” I said, “I think you’re wrong about Jeff. And probably about most people. I could get a date with the Pope and you’d be reading all sorts of malicious intent into his messages.”
“Which I’d be totally justified in doing if the Pope were on Matchify.”
I shot him a look, annoyed to find it softening at the sight of his twinkling eyes. “Your extremely kind concerns on my behalf are noted, Grant, but I can handle myself. I’m going to respond with the green light for tomorrow, okay?”
“Oh, I’m sure Jeff’ll be thrilled with every green light he can get.”
I’d walked right into that one.
“Jeff must do very well for himself.” Grant’s shoulder pressed against mine as he peered at the menu I’d pulled up on my phone. “That, or he’s overcompensating for something.”
I bumped him away from me with my arm as we walked from Matchify’s offices to the restaurant. “You’re not going to be hanging around this close during the date, are you?” I hadn’t ever been to Table of Origin, and it was expensive, but that just showed Jeff was taking this seriously.
“Nah, I’ll be at the bar—drinking a ten-dollar ice water, I assume. Unless Jeff’s feeling extra generous and wants to buy me dinner too.” He stretched his neck to see my screen again. “Twenty-five dollars for a beet salad? Not even Dwight Schrute would charge that much.”
I turned off my phone screen. “Everything’s fresh—farm to table.” I halted as the restaurant came into view down the block, and Grant followed suit.
“You can go ahead,” I said.
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you…embarrassed of me?”
I let out something dangerously close to a snort. “I think most people would agree that showing up to a date with another man is bad form.”
“But I’m not another man; I’m the journalist shadowing you.”
My gaze flitted to the slice of his jaw, then the fit of his shirt across his chest. If I were Jeff and I saw my date show up with Grant, I’d feel threatened, journalist or not.
I pressed my lips together rather than admit that, though. Grant would have a heyday with a comment like that.
“Fine,” he said. “But you go in first. I don’t want to choose my seat at the bar, then have you end up on the other side of the restaurant.”
I shrugged. “Fine.” I turned toward the restaurant and took a breath, rubbing my lips together.
I’d freshened up a bit before leaving—put on lipstick, perfume, and a dress—but I still felt weird going on a date straight from work.
Given that Jeff and I both worked so near, it had made more sense than going home, though.
And now it was time to meet him in person.
“Hold on.” Grant’s hand grasped my arm just above the elbow.
I faced him, annoyed at the way his fingers fit around my arm so easily.
He lifted a hand toward my face but stopped just shy of my mouth. After a pause, he retracted it and tapped a spot next to his own lip. “You’ve, um, got a little lipstick.”
My hand stole to my mouth. I wiped the spot he’d indicated, looking at him for confirmation I’d gotten it.
His eyes lingered on my lips—not the corner—for another second, then he nodded. “All set.”
“Thanks,” I said stiffly, my cheeks warm. I didn’t know what it was that was snagging in my brain—the fact that he’d had the impulse to wipe the lipstick, or the fact that he’d stopped himself. Either way, I walked toward Table of Origin feeling more jittery than I liked.
When I reached the hostess’s podium, I looked around until I spotted Jeff. He was seated at a table to the left, and he rose at the sight of me. He wore a suit that had probably been pressed when he’d arrived at work that morning, but the backs of the knees were creased after a day in the office.
I smiled at him, thanked the hostess, and walked over.
His eyes raked over me swiftly, and he put out a hand.
It had been a long time since I’d been on a date, and even if the greeting felt a bit business-y, I was grateful he hadn’t tried to hug me or kiss me on the cheek.
I suppressed the impulse to look over my shoulder and see if Grant had noted the greeting. His jokes about Jeff wanting to skip ahead physically had clearly been off-base.
Jeff made polite conversation as he helped me into my seat. I thanked him once I sat, then noted Grant walking up to the bar.
He set his notebook down, took a seat on a stool, then winked at me. He was close enough that I wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to hear us or not. I hoped not.
“I’m glad you took me up on tonight,” Jeff said as he took his seat. “Free time can be hard to come by for me. I’m sure the same is true for you.”
“Definitely,” I replied. “I’m glad it worked out for both of us.”
He smiled, showing a mouth of straight, white teeth. “Me too. I’m about to leave on a business trip, but I was anxious to meet you. I’m at a stage of life where I’m not really interested in wasting time if it’s not a good fit.”
It was exactly what I’d said to Grant yesterday, but when Jeff said it, it was like he’d casually set an anvil on my shoulders to see if I could manage the weight. He was here for one purpose: to see if I was a waste of his time.
He opened his menu. “So, how long have you been at Matchify?”
“I, uh…well, as long as it’s been around. I actually started the company.”
His gaze flicked up, and so did his brows. “Wow. Impressive. And very ambitious.”
“It was a joint ambition. You can’t make it in our industry without a community of talented people surrounding you.”
“Oh, absolutely. But even then, it takes a lot of drive to head up a brand-new company and have it do as well as yours has done.”
The waitress came over for our drink and appetizer orders, temporarily halting conversation.
“I’ll have the pear and sage sparkler,” Jeff said. “And the beet salad.”
My gaze swept to Grant, whose lips lifted at one edge as his eyes met mine. Guess he could hear.
Oh, joy.
I forced my attention back to the waitress and ordered a water and the braised leek croquettes.
Jeff was a lot like I’d imagined—nice, polite, smart, and well-versed in the tech industry. As we ate fresh but tiny portions of food, we sympathized over constantly shifting regulations, the near-impossibility of bona fide vacation time, and impatience with small-talk in meetings.
It was becoming clear why Matchify had matched us.
So why did I feel like I was at a business lunch?
I found myself periodically glancing at Grant. Did he sense it even from where he was?
I hoped not. I needed him to think this date was a slam dunk—that Matchify had really nailed it.
And maybe it had. Matchify might not be the issue.
Maybe I was the issue—me and my robotic intensity.
Jeff was perfectly nice, intelligent, handsome, and we had a lot in common. I’d have been thrilled to arrange a partnership between his company and Matchify if he was our contact.
But the thought of a second date?
It left me apathetic.
Maybe this was a fake-it-til-you-make-it situation, though, and I wasn’t trying hard enough.
I refocused on him, ensuring my smile was always ready and my laugh a short step behind it. He seemed gratified by my amusement, and his smile came more freely, too.
And yet, I was slightly disappointed when, instead of asking for the check, he ordered us dessert—a miniscule portion of buttermilk panna cotta.
I’d been trying to keep my eyes on Jeff, but I chanced a look at Grant. His focus seemed to be on the base of our table, but his eyes suddenly met mine, his lip tugging up at the edge.
That was when I realized my foot was tapping.
I stopped it, cursing my body for betraying me.
“This has been great, Vivian,” Jeff said, setting his napkin to the side. “I have to get to a Zoom meeting with a client in Tokyo, but maybe we can get together again after I get back from Johannesburg.”
“I’d like that,” I said, hoping I was telling the truth. Maybe a second date would be better now that we’d gotten through the awkwardness inherent in a first date.
But it hadn’t really felt awkward. It had just felt…fine.
Jeff had either forgotten about the journalist shadowing me, or he didn’t care. I wasn’t about to remind him. I let him help me out of my chair, then walked with him to the front. As we squeezed between the last two tables, his hand settled gently on the small of my back to guide me through.
Grant watched from the bar, his expression unreadable, but when he noticed me looking at him, he raised a brow as if to say hot to trot.
Jeff opened the door, and I stepped outside into the dusky light, wondering if there was any universe where Grant might forget we were supposed to “debrief” now, whatever that meant—or if maybe I could walk fast enough after saying goodbye to Jeff to lose Grant.
“Well, I’m this way.” Jeff jabbed a thumb to his right.
“And I’m this way.” I jerked my head the opposite direction.
He smiled. “We’ll be in touch, then?”
“Definitely.”
“Thanks for a great evening, Vivian.” He paused, put a hand on my arm, then leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.