Written in the Stars(12)

Mom studied Elle, an inscrutable expression on her face. “How about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Elle took a leisurely sip of her coffee and licked the lingering chocolate sauce from her bottom lip. “I see lots of people, Mom. I’m seeing you right now.”

“Yes, dear, you’re a smartass, I’m well aware.” Mom set her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her laced hands. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Ouch. You need at least one of your kids to keep you on your toes and no one else is stepping up to the plate. I’m taking one for the team.”

“How selfless of you.” She smiled. “Now answer the question.”

Elle sighed. “Yes. I go on dates. Loads of them. You know this.”

“Dates. But nothing serious.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Elle muttered.

“Your father has a new manager working under him who is—”

“Mom, Mom.” She dropped her head back against the booth and groaned.

If Mom finished that sentence, Elle would wind up saying yes—she never said no, not when there was a chance this date would be the date—even though the last person her parents had set her up with had worn khaki cargo shorts and spiffy Adidas dad-sneakers. He’d rambled about CSS and JavaScript, scoffed at her taste in movies, and his breath had smelled like pepperoni. They hadn’t eaten anything with pepperoni. Her parents weren’t entirely clueless in love seeing as they’d celebrated their thirty-fifth anniversary last June, but when it came to setting her up, they weren’t exactly batting a thousand. Granted, neither was she.

“Craig is perfectly nice, Elle. I met him the other day when I brought your father lunch. He’s bright and his desk is pristine.” Mom leaned in. “He owns a handheld vacuum cleaner for keyboard crumbs and he keeps a photo of his mother beside his monitor. Adorable.”

Elle cringed. Hard pass. “Thanks, but I think I’ll take my chances on a dating app.”

“At least tell me you’re using the good ones. What’s it called, coffee and muffin?” She shook her head, her perfectly highlighted bob swishing against the pearl studs in her ears. “Fumble?”

Elle covered her snort with a cough into her fist. “Yes, Mom. I’ve tried the Cupid one, too.”

“Good, that’s—” Her eyes narrowed, lips pulling to the side. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Just a little.” Elle held up a hand, thumb and index finger almost touching. “Speaking of dating apps—”

Mom sighed. “Elle, you know I just want you to be happy”—Elle held her breath waiting for the inevitable but—“but sometimes I can’t help but think you make life harder for yourself than it needs to be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mom tilted her head to the side. “You could’ve finished grad school and easily gotten a job with—”

“Mom.” Elle held up a hand, stomach already twisting at the way Mom’s voice went strained. “How many times do we have to go over this?”

“Fine. You’re right. That’s in the past.” Mom shrugged softly. “But look at how many people your father and I have set you up with because you said you wanted something serious. And you didn’t like any of them?” She tsked. “I’m not claiming to be an expert, but I start to wonder if you’re afraid of success when it seems like you’re constantly setting yourself up for failure, honey.”

Ouch.

Elle chewed on the inside of her cheek. Love, like all things, had come so easy for her older siblings. Jane and Daniel hadn’t even been looking for love when they’d met Gabe and Mike. It was just like school. Elle had gotten good grades, yeah, but she’d had to work her butt off for them. Jane and Daniel had barely needed to study to get straight As.

Then again, Elle wasn’t looking for easy. Elle wanted right. Would it have been nice if some of her dreams had been easier to achieve? Obviously, but she wished her family would understand that just because her path to success wasn’t a straight line, and just because her definition of success was a little different, she wasn’t automatically a failure.

“Look, I’m—”

Above the door, the bell chimed as someone darted inside to escape the downpour. Elle did a double take, recognizing the messy auburn hair and freckles—

“Shoot.” Elle slumped in the booth. Her butt made an obnoxious noise against the leather as she slipped low, knees knocking into Mom’s beneath the table.

“What in the world are you doing?” Mom stared at Elle as if she’d sprouted a second head.

Of all the breakfast joints in the greater Seattle area, Brendon Lowell just had to wander into Gilbert’s at the same time she was grabbing brunch with her mother.

Elle liked Brendon. They were well on their way to becoming good friends. Any other day of the week, she’d have waved him over. Just not today, not when she was with Mom and definitely not after her disaster of a date with his sister. A date Elle never would’ve agreed to had she had even the slightest inkling it would’ve gone that wrong. Things with Brendon were bound to be awkward now, and all she could hope was that he would be decent enough to not let it affect their working relationship. The last thing Elle needed was for the shitty state of her love life to sour her career when years of her and Margot’s hard work were finally paying off . . .