Page 42 of A Match Made at Christmas

Dante glanced at Hayes and raised his eyebrows. Silent communication passed between the two men. It was fleeting, and Pru didn’t dare ask what it was about—the last thing she needed was a picture into the inner workings of a man’s mind.

Although, knowing what Hayes was thinking could come in handy sometimes.

“Order whatever you want.” Dante produced two menus. “On me.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Pru said.

“Yes, he does.” Hayes grinned. “He owes me.”

“He’s right,” Dante said. “I’d do anything for this guy. I’ll be back in a few to get your orders.”

Hayes studied the menu a bit too intently.

“Why does he owe you?” Pru asked.

Hayes shrugged. “I was the seed money in this place.”

Pru set her menu down. “You own part of this restaurant?”

“Why is that so surprising?” Hayes didn’t look up from the menu.

“I didn’t realize you were doing so well,” she said.

He smirked. “Well, when my dad started investing, he taught us everything he learned. I’ve been growing my portfolio ever since I worked at the Yacht Club when I was sixteen.”

“So, you’re rich?”

“No, but I do okay,” he said. “Dante’s a friend, and a killer chef. Wait till you taste his food. He didn’t have a way to open a place of his own, and I saw an opportunity.”

“Don’t pretend you did this to make money, Hayes,” she said, looking over the menu. “You did it to make that guy’s dreams come true. Same way you sent all those surfers my way the first summer after Howie sold me the shop. I think I had fifteen orders for custom boards in two weeks’ time.”

He smiled. “What can I say? I’m a helper.”

“Maybe Aunt Nelliedidknow what she was doing,” Pru said.

Dante returned and took their orders, and then they settled in to two chairs at the desk. It was the first time she’d ever eaten a high-end dinner at a desk, watching surveillance footage.

Howie arrived first. The hostess brought him to the room and sat him at one of the two tables, then vanished. A few minutes later, Peggy arrived and was seated at the second table.

Hayes took off his suitcoat. “Now we’re talking.” He rubbed his hands together like things were about to get good.

“You know this could all backfire, right?” Pru asked.

“What kind of talk is that?” he said with faux shock. “This is a foolproof plan.”

Dante brought two beautiful plates and set them on the desk in front of them, then looked at the screen. “This is the couple we’re working on?”

“Yep,” Hayes said. “We have a hunch they belong together.”

The chef looked at Pru, then back at Hayes. “Uh-huh. Let me know if you need anything else.” He closed the door behind him as he left, shutting them in the small, dark office. A pine wreath hung on the wall, along with handmade cards that readI love you, Daddyand a photo of Dante and his wife.

Hayes pulled out his phone and texted Peggy, talking aloud as he did. “Running late. Should be there in about ten minutes.”

They watched as Peggy pulled her phone from her purse, read the text, then set it down on the table.

So far, Peggy and Howie didn’t seem to be speaking. They were each sitting at their own table, staring off in the opposite direction of the other person. Howie didn’t seem the shy type, but maybe he’d been awful to Peggy and he didn’t know how to make it up to her.

“It feels tense,” Pru said, eating a bite of her spaghetti and meatballs. The flavors of garlic and tomato burst in her mouth. “Oh my gosh, this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

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