Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
There was no doorstep appearance or balcony drop-in on Sunday. Just a text with the question.
Now that Grant had used his one pass, the temptation to ask him something truly and deeply invasive pestered me like a fly desperate to find its way out of a window left slightly ajar.
I countered it by asking him what his dream career would be. He said he wanted to write for The Sentinel—only one of the biggest, most respected publications in the country. He’d probably manage it, honestly. He seemed like one of those people who just…reached their goals.
He didn’t come into the office Monday morning before brunch. I almost texted him to ask if he was taking a sick day.
It would’ve made sense if the thought of his missing the date was liberating. No matter which way you spun it, having an observer at a date was like inviting your mom to watch your first kiss. It just wasn’t normal.
But there was also a sense of safety in having Grant there. I’d insisted to him that Matchify did everything we could to keep our users safe from bad actors, but there was nothing like using the app myself to help drive home the vulnerability of meeting up with a stranger.
I drove to the brunch spot, parked in a covered city lot, and didn’t bother trying to roll in late this time. I’d learned my lesson. I’d gone more casual today—slim but flowy navy pants, a creamy knit sweater, and leather ballet flats.
As I reached The Brunch Society, I tucked my hair behind my ears and heard Grant’s voice in my head. That’s how you like it, right?
I clenched my eyes shut and shook off the breathless feeling, then stepped inside.
It was a trendy little place with a white-and-grey honeycomb patterned floor, wood tables, and black chairs.
It buzzed with chatter, and I scanned the shop for Tanner.
Or was I looking for Grant? He’d certainly be easier to spot, given that I’d only ever seen pictures of Tanner.
I didn’t see either of them, though, so I asked the hostess for a table for two.
I only had to wait a couple minutes before she led me to one by a window. I sipped my water as the minutes ticked by, content to people-watch. Maybe Tanner wouldn’t show after all. Or maybe he was hiding in some nearby topiaries.
My phone buzzed on the table, and I picked it up.
Grant
He probably stayed up too late doing homework and slept through his alarm. Or maybe his mom had to take his sister to soccer practice.
Masking a smile, I looked up and searched the room for him.
The phone buzzed again.
At your eight o’clock
I turned in that direction, and he winked at me from a table, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. How had I missed his arrival?
“Vivian West?”
My head snapped up, and I found myself looking at Tanner in the flesh. He was smiling like in his pictures, no hint of reserve or guardedness in those eyes.
“Sorry I’m late.” He took a seat as I started to rise to shake hands or hug or however people greeted each other outside of work these days.
I sat right back down, grateful he hadn’t seemed to notice. “That’s all right. Monday mornings are always crazy.”
“Right?” He shook his head and slipped a backpack from his shoulders, setting it next to him on the floor.
I firmly avoided Grant’s eye, secretly wishing Tanner hadn’t chosen to wear a backpack on our date, like he’d just come from study hall.
“Gosh, it’s so great to meet you,” he said, smiling widely at me. There was something so genuine about him. It set me at ease.
“Likewise.” I let him get settled for a minute. “Tell me a little about yourself. You’re an investigative writer, right?”
“Yep! It’s my passion. I’ve always loved stories. For a while, I tried writing them—fiction, you know?—but then I realized…it’s the real ones I love. The ones that exist but have yet to be told.”
“That’s a cool perspective.” I suppressed the urge to look at Grant, whose motivation for journalism could be interpreted as a massive chip on his shoulder. “How long have you been doing it?”
He sat back. “Well, technically, it’s just a side gig right now. I’m hoping I can leave my current job in sales to go full-time, but…it’s a grind. I’m still waiting for my big break.”
Once the waitress took our orders, I asked Tanner about his current project.
He was finishing up a story about a nearby town’s disappearing road repair fund, and even though the subject didn’t get me going like it did him, I appreciated his passion.
Not many people got excited about data and statistical models, so I couldn’t really judge anyone else’s interests.
“What about you?” he asked. “You work at Matchify, right?”
“That’s right.” I couldn’t tell by the phrasing if he knew I was the head of Matchify or if he thought I was one of the general employees. Being overeager to tell people I was the CEO wasn’t a good look, though, so I didn’t clarify.
“And you’re doing some sort of story right now, yeah?” he continued. “You mentioned someone shadowing you.”
I forced my gaze to remain fixed on him. “That’s right. He’s doing a story on the company and wanted to see the Matchify process up close.”
Tanner’s brows went up, and he leaned in. “Is he here? Right now?”
I nodded.
He looked around like he’d be able to spot a journalist as easily as he could spot someone in a biker gang. His eyes roved, then suddenly fixed on a spot over my shoulder.
He went still. “Whoa whoa whoa whoa. Wait.” His gaze darted back to me. “Is the journalist shadowing you Grant Wilder?”
The way he said Grant’s name, you’d have thought he just spotted Brad Pitt.
I turned and met Grant’s gaze. His expression was puzzled, like he knew we were talking about him but didn’t understand why.
“Yeah. That’s him.”
Tanner’s eyes grew rounder. “Grant Wilder is the GOAT.” His focus flicked to Grant, then to me again. He suddenly looked hesitant. “Do you think…would it be okay if I shook his hand?”
“Oh, um….” I gave a little shrug. “Yeah, why not?”
Tanner clearly felt he was in the presence of true greatness. Who was I to keep him from meeting one of his idols?
“I’ll be right back,” he said, all nervous energy.
I turned slightly in my seat to watch the interaction.
Grant looked every bit as surprised as I thought he’d be, but he took the hand Tanner put out and smiled graciously as he shook it.
Near as they were, I couldn’t quite hear their conversation thanks to all the other people chatting around us.
Tanner was doing most of the talking, while Grant looked, dare I say it, mildly embarrassed.
His gaze flitted to me once, and I cocked a teasing brow. It was nice to see him experience a bit of discomfort for once.
Still talking, Tanner motioned toward me, and Grant’s expression morphed to open-mouthed awkwardness.
Tanner motioned again, more emphatically this time.
Oh my gosh. He was inviting Grant to come over to our table.
Grant looked at me as if to say help.
This wasn’t on the vision board for my date with Tanner, but what was I supposed to do? If Tanner preferred having Grant join us, I wouldn’t do myself any favors with him by taking it in bad grace.
Tanner looked at Grant looking at me, then hurried back to our table. “Hey,” he said breathlessly, “would you mind if he came over? It seems crazy to have him over there by himself, especially when there are people waiting for seats and he’s observing us anyway.”
Sure enough, there were a couple groups of people at the door, waiting for tables to open up.
Behind Tanner’s back, Grant shook his head at me significantly.
That was enough for me. “I wouldn’t mind at all.” Smiling extra widely, I motioned for Grant to come over.
The way his lips pressed together made it clear he was not amused, which only thrilled me more.
He thought he could sit there, sipping on margaritas while he watched me bungle through dates?
No. He deserved this.
Tanner turned to nod at him, and Grant’s evil eye transformed into a tight, polite grimace. He got up and walked over as Tanner stole a chair from the nearest table.
“This is just…insane,” Tanner said as he took his seat again. “I can’t believe I’m talking to the Grant Wilder. I’ve read every word you’ve written.”
Grant cleared his throat. “That’s really nice of you.”
I reclined in my seat and folded my arms, thoroughly enjoying myself despite the strange turn the date had taken.
“That piece you wrote about CoreSync?” Tanner shook his head in awe. “Master class in precision reporting. And the one about Optix?” He blew a breath through his lips, marveling at Grant like he was Michelangelo. “How do you do it?”
Grant lifted a shoulder. “It’s just a matter of asking the right questions and fitting together the answers.” His gaze flitted to me for a split second.
My amusement flickered for a moment as I thought about what answers I’d given him and what picture they were painting for him.
Tanner gave a sequence of quick micro-nods like he was absorbing Grant’s wisdom as quickly as it was offered. “And now you’re doing a piece on Matchify?”
The fact that Tanner had just mentioned two articles where Grant had publicly lambasted companies made the segue an awkward one.
“Correct.”
“Lucky us,” I said with a hint of sarcasm.
“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be a glowing piece,” Tanner said.
Grant’s gaze held mine, and I quirked a brow, waiting for his response. It didn’t come, but I could’ve sworn there was the promise of revenge in his eyes.
Given the sequence of questions that followed, you’d have thought Tanner had prepared for this beforehand. And maybe he had—maybe he’d dreamed of this moment like most people dreamed of meeting their favorite celebrity or historical figure.
I sat, quiet and content to watch Grant navigate the situation. It was more obvious than ever that he liked to be the one asking the questions.
Tanner wasn’t letting the opportunity go to waste, though, and I suspected he might not notice if I ducked out.
Instead, I pulled out my phone and shot Grant a text while Tanner continued describing a situation he’d been in during an interview about modern mining practices.
Vivian
Should I leave the two of you alone together?
Grant glanced down—his phone must’ve been in his lap—then up at me with the most subtle of don’t you dare looks.
“So,” Tanner concluded, “after all of that, I never even got the full story I’d come for.”
“You can’t win ‘em all,” Grant said. “Hey, it’s been great talking to you, Tanner, but I’ll let you two get back to it.” He rose.
“Wait,” Tanner said.
The muscle in Grant’s jaw feathered, but he forced an amiable glance down.
“Could I get one last word of wisdom? For someone like me trying to make it in the world you’re completely dominating?”
Grant gripped the back of the chair while I looked at him with an expectant smile, waiting for him to bestow his invaluable insight upon us mere mortals.
“Um, I guess I’d say to develop an eye for story.
You’ve got to look at things in a way no one else does and notice details no one else does.
It’s following a lot of threads that lead nowhere until you find one that takes you to your big story.
And sometimes that’s going to be a story people don’t want told. ”
Tanner’s eyes were alight with awe as he took in his hero for the last time. “Thank you so much, Grant Wilder.”
“Yes,” I echoed. “Thank you.”
Grant shot me daggers and gave a quick nod before turning away. His spot had since been taken, though, which meant he ended up standing in line at the front with everyone else.
Was I evil for feeling incredibly satisfied? Maybe I should’ve been disappointed that my date with Tanner had been hijacked by his adoration of Grant, but I wasn’t. I liked Tanner, but I had no interest in him beyond friendship. And clearly, he was already half in love with Grant.
We chatted—mostly about what Grant had said—for another twenty minutes before I excused myself to get back to work. It happened just after Grant was finally seated again, so I left more than satisfied with the date.
Today, at least, I’d won.