“Look.” Darcy sat straighter, staring him down, or up as it was. He might’ve been taller, but she was his big sister and he’d be ill advised to forget. “No meddling, all right? Don’t say anything to her. I don’t want you messing this up.”
“Me? Meddle?” Brendon held a hand up to his chest as if affronted.
“Brendon.”
He rolled his eyes. “Geez, Darce, chill. I’m not going to say anything. It was honestly a stroke of luck that I overheard her talking about how difficult dating is. Was, I guess.”
He shot her the world’s most god-awful wink, both eyes closing. He’d have her married off within the year if he had his way.
“I mean it.” She pinned him with a stare. “I’ve got this. Thank you, but you’ve done enough, okay?”
He shook his head. “You really like her, don’t you?”
It didn’t matter if she liked Elle. Chances were, they’d never see each other again. But if Darcy played her cards right, she could keep Brendon off her back—perhaps not indefinitely, but at least long enough to avoid several weeks of pointless speed dating.
Chapter Three
What Brunch Food Are You Based on Your Zodiac?
Aries—Spicy Chorizo Hash
Taurus—Monte Cristo Sandwich
Gemini—Chicken and Waffles
Cancer—Steel Cut Irish Oatmeal
Leo—Strawberries and Cream Stuffed French Toast
Virgo—Spinach and Egg White Omelet with Whole Wheat Toast
Libra—2 Pancakes x 2 Eggs x 2 Slices of Bacon
Scorpio—Bottomless Bloody Mary
Sagittarius—Belgian Liege Waffles
Capricorn—Acai Chia Pudding Smoothie Bowl
Aquarius—Baked Egg Danish with Kimchi and Bacon
Pisces—Giant Cinnamon Roll
Elle. Elle.”
Elle tore her eyes from the notes app on her phone. Across the table, Mom stared at her, dark brows raised expectantly. Pen poised over a notepad, their waiter smiled tightly.
“Oh, shoot, sorry.” Elle tossed her phone on the seat beside her and scooped the laminated menu off the table, scanning it quickly. Everything sounded delicious and the smells wafting from the kitchen weren’t helping her make up her mind. Fresh brewed coffee. Maple syrup drizzled over banana nut pancakes. Sticky cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven. Bacon. Oh man, bacon. She wanted it all, right now, her stomach unleashing a vicious grumble of agreement. She licked her lips. Hunger transformed Elle into an instant-gratification seeking Veruca Salt, albeit hopefully less bitchy. “Um, I’ll have the cinnamon sugar crepes with raspberry jam and— Ooh, do you have whipped cream?”
The waiter nodded and scribbled down the order. “Sure.”
“Elle.” Mom pursed her lips, the elevens between her eyebrows deepening.
“Scratch the whipped cream?” She grinned, eyes darting between Mom who looked torn between amusement and exasperation, and the waiter who’d begun tapping the end of his pen against his pad.
“You’re going to be in a carb coma all day, honey.”
“Which is why I was ordering whipped cream. Dairy equals protein.”
Mom rolled her eyes and reached for her green tea latte.
Elle shrugged at the waiter. “I’ll have a side of scrambled eggs, too, please.”
The waiter nodded and hurried off to the back of the crowded restaurant.
“How’s Margot?”
“Good. She’s been moderating this fic fest for rare pairs in one of her Harry Potter fanfiction groups and there were triple the number of entries than anticipated, but her new foray into rock-climbing seems to be helping with her stress. And her belay instructor is super cute, so.” Elle grabbed her peppermint mocha and blew on it. “Yeah, she’s good.”
Tongue poking the inside of her cheek, Mom nodded slowly. “I understood most of that.”
Elle sniffed theatrically and wiped away a fake tear. “I’m so proud.”
“Cute.” Mom took a sip of her latte before setting it aside. “It’s funny that you mentioned rock-climbing, actually.”
“Is it?”
“Lydia’s boyfriend, Marcus, is an avid rock-climber. Loves hiking, too. He’s gotten your sister into it.”
“Lydia goes hiking? Our Lydia?” The idea of her sister in a pair of hiking boots was too much for Elle to wrap her head around. Lydia who refused to admit she sweated, instead referring to perspiration as glistening. Not that Elle was inclined to hit the gym, but come on. “Wait, back up. Lydia has a new boyfriend? Since when?”
When Mom’s brows did the forehead equivalent of a shrug, Elle was in trouble. “Marcus isn’t new. If you hadn’t missed the past three family dinners, maybe you’d be up to speed.”
Elle’s molars clacked together. She’d heard similar iterations of the same chastisement on the phone. “I’ve been super swamped with—” The deal with OTP, but Mom didn’t know that and Elle wasn’t sure she was ready to broach that subject on the heels of hearing about Lydia’s new—to her—boyfriend. “Life. I’ve been super swamped with life. Adulting. Bills, taxes, existential doom. You never told me it was such a drag.”
Mom studied Elle, an inscrutable expression on her face. “How about you? Are you seeing anyone?”
Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Elle took a leisurely sip of her coffee and licked the lingering chocolate sauce from her bottom lip. “I see lots of people, Mom. I’m seeing you right now.”
“Yes, dear, you’re a smartass, I’m well aware.” Mom set her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her laced hands. “That’s not what I asked.”
“Ouch. You need at least one of your kids to keep you on your toes and no one else is stepping up to the plate. I’m taking one for the team.”
“How selfless of you.” She smiled. “Now answer the question.”
Elle sighed. “Yes. I go on dates. Loads of them. You know this.”
“Dates. But nothing serious.”
“Not for lack of trying,” Elle muttered.
“Your father has a new manager working under him who is—”
“Mom, Mom.” She dropped her head back against the booth and groaned.
If Mom finished that sentence, Elle would wind up saying yes—she never said no, not when there was a chance this date would be the date—even though the last person her parents had set her up with had worn khaki cargo shorts and spiffy Adidas dad-sneakers. He’d rambled about CSS and JavaScript, scoffed at her taste in movies, and his breath had smelled like pepperoni. They hadn’t eaten anything with pepperoni. Her parents weren’t entirely clueless in love seeing as they’d celebrated their thirty-fifth anniversary last June, but when it came to setting her up, they weren’t exactly batting a thousand. Granted, neither was she.
“Craig is perfectly nice, Elle. I met him the other day when I brought your father lunch. He’s bright and his desk is pristine.” Mom leaned in. “He owns a handheld vacuum cleaner for keyboard crumbs and he keeps a photo of his mother beside his monitor. Adorable.”
Elle cringed. Hard pass. “Thanks, but I think I’ll take my chances on a dating app.”
“At least tell me you’re using the good ones. What’s it called, coffee and muffin?” She shook her head, her perfectly highlighted bob swishing against the pearl studs in her ears. “Fumble?”
Elle covered her snort with a cough into her fist. “Yes, Mom. I’ve tried the Cupid one, too.”
“Good, that’s—” Her eyes narrowed, lips pulling to the side. “You’re making fun of me.”
“Just a little.” Elle held up a hand, thumb and index finger almost touching. “Speaking of dating apps—”
Mom sighed. “Elle, you know I just want you to be happy”—Elle held her breath waiting for the inevitable but—“but sometimes I can’t help but think you make life harder for yourself than it needs to be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Mom tilted her head to the side. “You could’ve finished grad school an
d easily gotten a job with—”
“Mom.” Elle held up a hand, stomach already twisting at the way Mom’s voice went strained. “How many times do we have to go over this?”
“Fine. You’re right. That’s in the past.” Mom shrugged softly. “But look at how many people your father and I have set you up with because you said you wanted something serious. And you didn’t like any of them?” She tsked. “I’m not claiming to be an expert, but I start to wonder if you’re afraid of success when it seems like you’re constantly setting yourself up for failure, honey.”
Ouch.
Elle chewed on the inside of her cheek. Love, like all things, had come so easy for her older siblings. Jane and Daniel hadn’t even been looking for love when they’d met Gabe and Mike. It was just like school. Elle had gotten good grades, yeah, but she’d had to work her butt off for them. Jane and Daniel had barely needed to study to get straight As.
Then again, Elle wasn’t looking for easy. Elle wanted right. Would it have been nice if some of her dreams had been easier to achieve? Obviously, but she wished her family would understand that just because her path to success wasn’t a straight line, and just because her definition of success was a little different, she wasn’t automatically a failure.
“Look, I’m—”
Above the door, the bell chimed as someone darted inside to escape the downpour. Elle did a double take, recognizing the messy auburn hair and freckles—
“Shoot.” Elle slumped in the booth. Her butt made an obnoxious noise against the leather as she slipped low, knees knocking into Mom’s beneath the table.
“What in the world are you doing?” Mom stared at Elle as if she’d sprouted a second head.
Of all the breakfast joints in the greater Seattle area, Brendon Lowell just had to wander into Gilbert’s at the same time she was grabbing brunch with her mother.
Elle liked Brendon. They were well on their way to becoming good friends. Any other day of the week, she’d have waved him over. Just not today, not when she was with Mom and definitely not after her disaster of a date with his sister. A date Elle never would’ve agreed to had she had even the slightest inkling it would’ve gone that wrong. Things with Brendon were bound to be awkward now, and all she could hope was that he would be decent enough to not let it affect their working relationship. The last thing Elle needed was for the shitty state of her love life to sour her career when years of her and Margot’s hard work were finally paying off . . .
Peering past Mom’s confused face, Elle spotted Brendon chatting with the host. Brendon clapped the man on the shoulder and walked toward the pastry case. Hallelujah, he must’ve been getting his order to go.
“Honey, what’s gotten into you?” The corners of her eyes crinkled with concern.
Elle shook her head and gripped the edge of the table, heaving herself to sitting. “Nothing. Nothing, I’m just—”
It stood to reason that if she believed in good luck, and she absolutely did, there was also such a thing as bad luck. As evidenced when Brendon turned, hands tucked casually in the pockets of his stonewashed jeans.
Elle grabbed the menu and scrambled to unfold it. Once it formed a nice little cubby, she ducked behind it and rested her cheek against the table.
“Elizabeth Marie, what is wrong with you?”
The better question was what wasn’t wrong with her.
“Elle?”
So much for that. Elle flicked her bangs out of her eyes and aimed a grin at Brendon who peered down at her with a bemused smile. “Brendon? Wow, hey! How are you?”
“I’m great.” His smile brightened, bemusement transforming into amusement with a flash of his teeth. He pointed at his cheek. Brendon had dimples just like Darcy, but he was missing that stupid special freckle, the one Elle had wanted to kiss until the date had gone to hell in a handcart. “You’ve got a little something . . .”
Elle swiped a hand over her cheek, fingers coming back smudged brown with what she prayed was chocolate syrup. “Thanks. Um, what are you doing here?”
Getting food, most likely. Brilliant, Elle.
Brendon chuckled and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I live right down the street by the park. I drop by most mornings. They’ve got better coffee than the chain places, not so overroasted. What are you doing here? Don’t you live downtown?”
A kick landed against her shin. Ow. Right, Mom was staring at her with wide eyes and a tight smile.
“I do, but my family doesn’t.” She gestured across the table. “Brendon, this is my mom, Linda. Mom, this is my friend, Brendon.”
Brendon’s smile widened as he stuck out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Mom’s eyes darted over to Elle as she shook Brendon’s hand. “Always nice to meet a friend of Elle’s.”
Elle’s eyes slipped shut at Mom’s less-than-subtle suggestion.
Brendon, however, seemed to think the mix-up was hilarious. “Oh no, Elle and I are just friends. And business partners, too, I guess.” His toothy smile went lopsided and Elle’s stomach did an anatomically impossible nosedive, plummeting an unrealistic distance before threatening to drop out her butt. “Though I like to think our friendship supersedes that sort of thing.”
“Right?” Elle chuckled nervously, avoiding Mom’s questioning head tilt.
“Not that your daughter isn’t amazing,” Brendon continued, digging Elle’s hole deeper. “But I’d have to fight my sister and I have full confidence Darcy could whoop my butt.”
Hearing Darcy’s name twisted Elle’s already stressed stomach, her laughter taking on a frantic edge that had both Brendon and Mom staring at her funny. Elle shut the menu and fanned it in front of her, needing the breeze.
Had he not spoken with his sister?
“Elle?” With her brows lifted, the look on Mom’s face brokered no argument.
She cleared her throat. “Right, sorry. Brendon’s the creator of OTP. You know, the dating app?”
Brendon nodded. “The whole team is over the moon”—he dimpled—“to be working with Elle and Margot. Our algorithms are solid, but we’re hoping that with their help, our success rate will break the forty percent threshold on relationships lasting longer than one month.”
Based on Mom’s frown, Brendon might as well have been speaking Klingon. “And you’re—working for this company, Elle? Is this a salaried position?”
Elle’s face flamed as she flashed an apologetic smile at Brendon. “Mom. We’re consulting with OTP as independent contractors. It’s . . . it’s a big deal, okay?”
Mom’s frown deepened, making Elle lose her appetite entirely. So much for that.
Her smile felt flimsy when she looked up at Brendon. “Margot and I are jazzed about it, too. We were just talking about it last night, how excited we are to hit the ground running.”
Brendon stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Speaking of last night . . .”
Shit. Here it goes.
“Darcy made me promise not to say anything, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, yeah?” He shot her a conspiratorial wink that under any other circumstance would have made her grin because he was absolute shit at winking, but in a totally endearing way because he either had no clue, or he knew and didn’t care. Now, it just curdled the macchiato in her stomach.
“You talked to Darcy?” She swallowed, ignoring Mom’s curious stare in favor of focusing on Brendon’s face, studying it for any sign of what bombshell he was about to drop that he’d sworn himself to secrecy over. “About . . . about last night?”
“Oh yeah. She’s . . .” Brendon trailed off, shaking his head, the expression on his face inscrutable. Her pulse tripped as she held her breath. Brendon ducked his chin, chuckling down at the table. “I’ve never seen her like this before.”
What the hell? Elle wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. What did that mean? Never seen her so what? “Oh?”
He lifted his head, smile still lov
ably lopsided. “She said you two really hit it off.”
Elle’s jaw dropped. The fuck? “She did?”
Brendon nodded. “She’s . . . God, Elle, I mean it when I say I’ve never seen my sister so . . . so smitten before.”
“Smitten,” Elle echoed dumbly.
“Could you not tell?” Brendon laughed as if his sister’s feelings were utterly obvious.
All she could do was shrug. “Darcy is . . . not the easiest to read.”
Brendon nodded like he understood. “She keeps her cards close to her chest, that’s for sure. But trust me when I say she had a great time.”
Could’ve fooled her.
Either this was some gigantic misunderstanding, or Darcy had lied to her brother. But to what end? Elle had been the one who was late and had spilled wine all over the place, so why lie?
His smile fell. “You had a good time, didn’t you?”
Ah, fudge.
Elle chanced a quick glance at Mom, who wasn’t even pretending she wasn’t listening, and tugged on her earlobe. “I—”
Almost cried on the way home?
Lost her new underwear in a public bathroom she was forced to use because she was too embarrassed to confront Darcy in the restaurant?
Had really hoped they’d hit it off and had been inordinately disappointed when the breath-snatching chemistry hadn’t been enough?
Everything she could think to say seemed wrong.
The look on Brendon’s face was so hopeful, like he honest to God believed his sister’s happiness hinged on Elle. It didn’t help that Mom was staring at her, that same hope reflected in her blue eyes.
Lying was something Elle avoided, but owning up to her part in last night’s disaster date? Copping to spilled wine and lateness and head-butting over her job and hopes? Elle was tired of everyone looking at her like she was a mess when she was just trying her best.
“I just . . . I’m kind of speechless,” she confessed, forcing out a laugh.
Mom looked at her strangely because if there was one thing anyone who knew Elle, really knew her, was aware of, it was that she was seldom at a loss for words.
Written in the Stars Page 4