Page 50 of The Dating Contract

Not a bad thing, just confusion, thankfully. “Cheese,” he replied. “Maybe I’m layering on the cheese a little too thick.”

She shrugged, the lines of her shoulders fluid and soft. “Maybe, but not tonight.” She paused and he wondered where she was going, what she was thinking.

What she thought of him.

No.

Not that far, not yet at least.

“You came with your mentor?”

He nodded. “Yeah. He headed off, something about people in the crowd. You?”

“My sister-in-law,” she said with a laugh. “There’s nothing like coming to a late-night event during the summer with an excited four-year-old.”

“Sugar?”

“A lot of it,” she replied. And then she paused. “I saw the signs. The logo, the lettering is gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” he said, trying to keep himself together at the praise. “I had fun watching them practice, so I tried to put their energy into the logo. Do you want to see something?”

She raised an eyebrow, and he wondered if she thought he was deflecting. “Sure…”

He nodded, took the hand she reached out, hoping he wasn’t sweating through his palms, and walked her back down the display area to the mask Bryce had made.

He loved looking at it, loved seeing the microcalligraphy and the paint.

“This is beautiful,” she managed. “This is what he was working on?”

He nodded. “Yep. That’s what he was working on the day you did me the favor of driving me to the mechanic.”

She laughed quickly but composed herself. “I see the touches in the lettering,” she said, her fingers resting inches from the glass display case. “I can see the synergy with the logo. Deliberate?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Very much so.”

“So,” she asked, making him slightly nervous. “Did you find your place card?”

He shook his head. “No. I haven’t.” Which was probably the safest statement he could make, but he wasn’t sure.

She nodded. “Let’s go figure this out,” she said.

And what made him more excited, was that she didn’t let his hand go. Just continued to hold on to it as they left the auction space, fingers entwined.

Bashert.

*

Of course, itturned out that Leah was sitting at a table with Samuel; she wasn’t going to complain—they were supposed to be sitting together for many reasons, but primarily because they were ‘dating.’

Rumors traveled fast, and people knew too many people for her to believe otherwise. And the conversation that naturally sprung up about industries and strange collaborations they both remembered was fun. One in particular that tied hockey and comics together ignited memories that were inspirations in the good times, like the way she was letting this one be.

“Do you remember that collaboration?” he asked her, his fingers clearly tight against his fork, his knuckles the pale white of toothpaste.

So she nodded, brushing a finger against his, allowing herself to remember what they’d been when the collaboration took place—dating. Because it had happened back when they were in high school. “I do,” she said, remembering the package in the closet.

He smiled, and she’d never been immune to Samuel’s smile. “I was excited about it.”

She remembered.

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