The Love Wager (Mr. Wrong Number, #2)(20)

“I know—it’s a job that’s literally used in movies to show how boring a person is.” Hallie laughed. “Want the viewer to know how bad your date was? Just say he was a tax accountant and that’s all the characterization needed. But it’s not boring to me. It’s lame, but there’s something very satisfying about numbers and reconciliation.”

Hallie watched as Jack started winding up the clear straw like she and her friends used to do in high school. He said, “I think that’s really—”

“Don’t say cool. It’s not cool. I like my job, but in no way is it cool.”

He gave a little laugh as he held out the straw and gestured for her to flick it. “Fine, it’s lame as fuck.”

“Easy”—she flicked the straw and smiled at the loud pop—“that’s my career you’re talking about.”

“What do you want from me, Hal?” He dropped the cracked straw onto the table. “Tough to please much?”

She leaned back in her chair and kicked her legs all the way out in front of her. It was such a nice late-summer night, and she was glad she was out enjoying it instead of at home in her jammies.

“So how long have you been single, TB?”

Hallie glanced at Jack, and he looked ultra-relaxed, too, leaning back the exact same way as he looked at her with friendly curiosity and no judgment.

“Um . . .” She looked down at the date on her phone. “A year . . . ?”

“Holy shit.” He looked at her like she’d just professed herself to be a llama. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Why is that so shocking?”

She knew why. That dude had had a ring in his pocket less than a month ago and he was already back out there—obviously he was all about relationships.

“It’s not,” he said, looking at her with a tiny crinkle between his eyebrows. “But when you said your whole winter-of-your-twenties thing, I assumed it was a fresh breakup.”

“Oh.” That made sense.

“So . . . you’ve dated during that time, haven’t you?”

She cleared her throat. “Before joining the dating app?”

He just gave her a duh look.

“Um, that’s a no, then.”

“Oh my God, TB, you are blowing my mind,” he said, and it was obvious he’d never considered someone could live their life without dating for that long of a stretch.

“That’s not that long, you know,” Hallie said. “I just didn’t want to rush into something I wasn’t ready for.”

“That’s smart, actually,” he said, and looked like he meant it.

“And it was the winter of my twenties.” She started explaining her thought processes and goals of the past year, feeling compelled to defend her actions even though he wasn’t asking her to.

“So you figured since your douchebag ex had broken your heart, you were going to spend the next year being miserable . . . ?”

“Oh, my God, you’re missing the point on purpose. I used that shitty time to save more money and improve myself so I’d be ready to take on the world when my spring arrived.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Is this your spring?”

She tilted her head and squinted. “I think it might be.”

After that they decided to walk back to their cars. She told him about Ruthie and he didn’t believe her that someone could be so unique, and then she told him about her new apartment. When she told him where it was, he suggested they walk to it so they could check it out at night and make sure the neighborhood wasn’t shitty.

On the way there, he pointed at the Carson building and said, “That’s my old building.”

“For real?” Hallie looked up at the high rise that was like a historical monument in Omaha. “Fancy.”

“My roommate made a shit ton of money and let me move into his condo and pay next to nothing on rent, so I was basically a mooch.”

“I’ve always wanted to see the inside of the building. They used to light it up every Christmas, and I always wondered what it looked like up close.”

“Wanna go in?”

“What?”

“Come on.” He grabbed her hand and yanked her toward the entrance.

“Jack—”

“Just shut up and come on.” He walked right up to the keypad beside the door and pressed a button.

A second later, a voice came out of the speaker and said, “Yes?”

“Olivia, it’s Jack. Can I show Hallie your apartment?”

“Who’s Hallie?” the woman—Olivia—asked.

“Jack, come on,” Hallie whispered, feeling like an idiot all of a sudden.

“She’s the wedding bartender,” Jack said.

“Wait—your dating buddy?” Olivia asked, sounding surprised.

“Bingo.”

“Come on up.”

Hallie gave him side-eye as the door buzzed open. “Who is she and how does she know about me? Obsessed much?”

He gave her a tiny shove. “She’s my sister, Olivia, the one who got me on the app—that’s the only reason she knows.”

“So your sister is—”

“Married to my former roommate and best friend. You were at their wedding.”