Page 147 of My Lucky Charm

Tonight is going to feel like a real date, and I’m not even going to fight it.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Eloise

I’m on a date that feels like a date but isn’t a date.

Just one day after the stark reminder that Gray is my boss and all that entails, I’m sitting at a romantic, candlelit dinner, all dressed up, and trying really hard not to think about how real this feels.

Not that we would bring Scarlett on a real date, but oddly, I don’t think I would mind. She’s won me over completely, although I’m pretty sure she’s trying to matchmake me with her dad.

Poppy’s restaurant has a much more romantic atmosphere in the evening. Her staff changes out the linens in the late afternoon. They dim the lights. She has a playlist of songs with the word “love” in the title.

And because she agreed to help me make this special for Gray and Scarlett, we’re getting the VIP treatment, including a visit from the chef.

I don’t miss her quizzical expression when she sees that Gray isn’t alone with his daughter, but I do a quick shake of my head, as if to say “I’ll tell you later,” and force a smile.

“I’m going to order a pizza.” Scarlett looks at my sister. “Can I help make it?”

Poppy’s eyebrows shoot up. “In that dress? Are you sure?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Scarlett quips.

“Well, then come on back!” Poppy grins, ushering her off, leaving me alone at the table under Gray’s watchful gaze. His presence is hard to ignore, but darn if I don’t try.

I avoid looking at him. Because what if he turned into a mind reader overnight and he discovers that I like the idea of this being a date. There are still moments when I don’t want to be professional and keep him at an arm’s length.

“You’re a good sport,” he says. “Thanks for indulging her.”

I unfold my napkin and lay it over my lap, mostly because I need something to do with my hands, and shoveling another piece of bread in my mouth feels like not the right choice at the moment. “She’s the best.”

“You know what she’s doing though, right?”

I laugh. “Oh yeah. She’s setting us up.”

He widens his eyes and shakes his head, incredulous, and says, “Yeah, what’s that about?”

“Right?” My laugh sounds nervous, even to me. “She’s a funny little matchmaker, isn’t she?”

“She told me she doesn’t want me to be alone.” He takes a drink of his water. “After she goes back home.”

“Ouch.”

“I don’t know how to explain to her that right now, there’s only room in my life for hockey.”

I nod, wondering if Scarlett is the only one who needs to understand this.

“Even though—” He goes quiet.

“Even though?” Our eyes meet, and I force myself not to look away.

“Nothing,” he says, waving a hand. “It’s nothing.” He glances down at the menu. “I should figure out what I’m eating.”

I watch him, and as much as I want him to keep talking, I’m learning that pushing him isn’t going to work.

We share a few more surface exchanges, and I force myself to focus through the rest of dinner. When it’s time to leave, I tell Gray that he should get Scarlett home, and that I can just walk back to my place. I’ll get my car tomorrow because frankly, the whole night has just been too much for me.

“You’re sure?” he asks. “I can run you back to your parents’ house.”

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