Page 33 of The Matchmaker
“Well, you’re pretty good at it,” he says, as his phone lights up with a text. Whatever it says makes him tense further, and it’s only then I notice the empty wine glass beside him and how…hownicehe looks. He’s no longer wearing the practical, weatherworn clothes of a construction site. He’s in a long-sleeved navy button-down shirt that fits him perfectly. A silver watch glints on his wrist, and his dark hair is brushed back and swept away from his face. He’s dressed up.
I sit back, even more conscious of how I’m dripping all over the place. “Is this, like, a business lunch thing or…”
“It’s supposed to be a date.”
My eyes bulge at the same time a sharp bolt of jealousy shoots through me, and I do a quick sweep of the restaurant as though a beautiful woman will suddenly appear. “With who?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ve sat here for thirty minutes waiting for someone to walk through that door, only for you to show up instead.” He swipes a finger across his phone, rereading the text. “Is your name secretly Melissa?”
“No.”
“Then I’ve been waiting here thirty-five minutes.”
“You’re being stood up?” I whisper-ask. “You’re on a blind date, and you’re being stood up?”
“Looks like it.”
Oh, not cool. Even if he is the enemy. But before I can tell him so, a waiter approaches with a wide smile and places two menus before us.
“Would you like to hear the chef’s—”
“No,” we say in unison. The man looks a bit miffed but takes the hint and leaves us alone. Or at least he does for a second before he comes back and lights a candle. I mean, read the room, my guy.
Callum doesn’t move, and I find my previous determination has vanished as we sit together in stiff silence.
“So do you want company or—”
“No.”
I almost wilt in relief. “Right. Okay. So, I should—”
“Yep.”
Noted. I stand, the chair screeching as I reach for my coat. Callum doesn’t even look at me, he just sits back, tilting his head to the ceiling like he’s praying for patience. Or maybe for a sinkhole to swallow him up.
“I don’t hate you,” I say because I still feel bad about that. “But I think you’re on the wrong side and I think you know that. I hope your date shows up.”
He drops his head, but I leave before he can reply, striding through the tables and straight out the door, where I come to an abrupt stop as a puff of wind sends icy raindrops into my face.
Jesus.
I shrug on my coat, zipping it up tight as I’m reminded why I ducked into the restaurant in the first place. My bus stop down the road is still crammed with people hiding from the weather, so I decide to stay where I am, figuring it’s probably safest for the time being. That is until a minute later when the door opens behind me, letting a second’s worth of peaceful background chatter out before it closes again. When no one steps past, I turn around to find Callum standing with his back to it, looking at me like I just spat in his food.
“Hi,” I say, when he doesn’t.
“It’s still raining.”
“Yes.”
“Why are you standing in the rain?”
“I’m not; I’m sheltering. There’s a shelter.” I point up at the little eave above the doorway, the one that does nothing to stop the wind from moving the rain in any direction it pleases, but it’s the best I have right now. “Why areyoustanding in the rain?”
“Because I can see you from my table, and it’s annoying me. Why don’t you have an umbrella?”
“It wouldn’t last two seconds,” I say, as another gust of wind comes hurtling down the street. As if on cue, a woman walks past, angrily shaking her own small umbrella as it flies inside out. God. Summer can’t come fast enough. I am not a winter rain girl. I am a summer sunshine girl. A light jacket, short dress, old pair of Converse sunshine girl. “How is it that in the history of mankind, when we’ve created all of this medical equipment and fancy technology, no one, not a single person, has come up with a better idea than an umbrella?” I pull the ties of my hood tighter under my chin and glare at the clouds. “It’s ridiculous that that’s what we’ve settled on. Just think of the money you’d make if you invented something better.”
There’s no response from Callum, and when I look over, I find him staring at me.
