Page 20 of The Match

“Why didn’t you want her to come to dinner?”

At least a hundred answers fly through my mind, but I can’t tell my ten-year-old daughter any of them. “Because . . . I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable having to eat with us.”

“I think she would have liked to come.”

I flip my turn signal and move into traffic, pretending not to be overly curious about Sam’s statement. “Oh yeah? Why do you think that?”

“Because she peeks at you as much as you peek at her.”

Never mind that her statement makes me sound like a massive creeper . . .

I look at Sam in the rearview mirror and see her satisfied smirk. “We’re just friends, kiddo. There’s nothing else between Evie and me.”

“Well then, you should have made her come with us. Friends eat dinner together.”

The problem is, I don’t want to be friends with Evie. I want to take her on a date, and run my hands through her long hair, and find out if her lips feel as soft as they look.

CHAPTER 9

Evie

This morning, I’m sitting at the venue Jo and I booked for the fundraiser benefit, waiting for the caterer to meet me so we can review the menu before I head over to Jake’s house for training, when my phone buzzes.

JO: You need to go shopping.

EVIE: Because you hate my clothes?

JO: Because you need a new dress for the benefit. Something short and black.

EVIE: I was thinking I would wear my silver one again.

JO: Exactly. That dress has seen better days. You need to go shopping. Let’s go Friday.

Ugh. I hate that Jo is right. That silver dress is the last connection I have to my old life. I’m pretty sure when Mom bought me that dress, it cost more than my entire current wardrobe combined. But just because it was expensive back then doesn’t mean it still looks expensive now—unless peplum dresses that have shrunk a few too many sizes in the dryer have suddenly come back in style.

EVIE: Fine. You win. I’ll buy a new dress. But it has to be from somewhere that I can use a 20% off coupon.

JO: No way, missy. You haven’t let me buy you anything all year. This is my treat.

That’s true too. Jo is always trying to buy me things, but I don’t let her. I can’t exactly be a pioneer, forging my own path in life, if I’m constantly letting someone go in front of me and whack down all the weeds. I have to do it. I have to get my hands dirty.

But since the fundraiser is really important for our company, and I have invited quite an impressive list of people that I’m hoping will give us loads of money, I decide to give in this once and let her spoil me.

EVIE: If I let you buy me a dress, does that mean I have to let you pick it too? Because anytime you dress me, I end up looking less like a lady and more like a lady of the night.

JO: *Pretty Woman GIF*

EVIE: Does that mean yes?

JO: *Another Pretty Woman GIF*

EVIE: You’re hopeless.

JO: And you’re more prudish than my grandma Sue.

EVIE: I love you.

JO: I love you too.

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