Sandcastle Beach (Matchmaker Bay #3) - Jenny Holiday Page 0,138

that had been there between them—the spark she’d thought had been there, but maybe she’d been imagining it—had gone out. Well, not on her end. On her end, she pretty much had to walk around with a metaphorical fire extinguisher at all times. But he had stopped giving off the sexy-intense vibes, leaving only the regular-intense vibes. And the dude was intense. A perfectionist, whether they were talking about the edges of the wallpaper in the bathroom or he was asking Patricia to send something back to someone whose work had not measured up. He was never rude. Quite the opposite, in fact—he was scrupulously polite. But insistent. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it.

It was stupidly sexy.

So she had an unrequited crush. She had allowed herself to acknowledge that fact, even if she still wouldn’t admit it to Gia. She’d decided it was harmless as long as it stayed unrequited. The last thing she needed right now was to start depending on a man. She’d had a lifetime of that. She could worry about relationships down the line, after she’d proven herself. But a little one-sided crushing—what could it hurt?

And with Jay, although the flirty banter had gone, she could honestly say that, in a surprising twist, they had become friends. After she’d confided in him about her father, he’d done the same. It was as if, by sharing those early secrets, they had skipped all the getting-to-know-you stuff that usually accompanied new friendships. Now, seven weeks after he’d hired her, they were following sessions to approve the work of tradespeople with lunch around the corner. Or wrapping up a meeting with a quick game of Scrabble. It was awesome—in general and because she’d never had a friend she didn’t have to force to play board games with her.

“What is your opinion about hockey?” he asked at one of their lunches. They were sitting side by side on stools at the counter of an old-school-soda-fountain-turned-hipster restaurant.

It was weird being friends with a guy. Elise’s close friendships had always been with women.

“That’s the one they play on ice, right?” She winked to show she was joking and was gratified when he laughed. Jay was so wickedly intelligent, it made her proud to be able to amuse him.

“Kent has a pair of Leafs tickets for tonight he can’t use.” Kent was the Cohen of Cohen & Smith. “I was going to see if you wanted to come.”

“I would totally go to a Leafs game, depending on what was happening at halftime.”

“There’s no halftime in hockey.”

“Are you going to revoke my Canadian citizenship?” she teased, and she got another chuckle. “So what do they have in hockey?”

“Three periods.”

“So that means there’s two halftimes.” She was kidding there. But not about going. “I’ll totally go to the Leafs game with you.” She really could not imagine anything she’d like to do more, suddenly.

He stared at her for a long time without speaking. For a minute she thought it was going to turn into one of his sexy-intense stares—oh, how she missed those despite the pep talk she’d just given herself about not relying on a man—but then it dissipated. “Nah. We’d better not.”

Huh?

“It’s really cold in hockey arenas,” he added, and she had the distinct sense that he was reaching for an excuse. Why had he brought it up to begin with if he didn’t want to go with her? Her pride prevented her from pushing him on it, but disappointment lodged in her chest, and she was relieved when the lunch was over.

They’d taken to texting, too. Later that evening, she got one from him that was simply a picture of the game Battleship.

She let out a delighted laugh. See? They clicked. As friends. She typed a reply. Now there’s a game I haven’t thought of in years. Is that yours?

Jay: I bought it this evening at an antique/junk store.

Elise: What happened to two-halftimes hockey?

Jay: I told Kent to give the tickets to a junior accountant who’s been pulling tons of overtime this month.

Even though she truly did not care about hockey, Elise found herself absurdly glad that Jay hadn’t gone without her.

Elise: But you went antiquing instead? That seems sort of random.

Jay: My friend Stacey dragged me out.

So much for absurd happiness. Jay hadn’t gone to the game without her, but he was spending the evening with his stunning, legal-genius ex-girlfriend.

Elise: Well, hopefully you can get her to play that excellent game with you. I haven’t