Written in the Stars(13)

Peering past Mom’s confused face, Elle spotted Brendon chatting with the host. Brendon clapped the man on the shoulder and walked toward the pastry case. Hallelujah, he must’ve been getting his order to go.

“Honey, what’s gotten into you?” The corners of her eyes crinkled with concern.

Elle shook her head and gripped the edge of the table, heaving herself to sitting. “Nothing. Nothing, I’m just—”

It stood to reason that if she believed in good luck, and she absolutely did, there was also such a thing as bad luck. As evidenced when Brendon turned, hands tucked casually in the pockets of his stonewashed jeans.

Elle grabbed the menu and scrambled to unfold it. Once it formed a nice little cubby, she ducked behind it and rested her cheek against the table.

“Elizabeth Marie, what is wrong with you?”

The better question was what wasn’t wrong with her.

“Elle?”

So much for that. Elle flicked her bangs out of her eyes and aimed a grin at Brendon who peered down at her with a bemused smile. “Brendon? Wow, hey! How are you?”

“I’m great.” His smile brightened, bemusement transforming into amusement with a flash of his teeth. He pointed at his cheek. Brendon had dimples just like Darcy, but he was missing that stupid special freckle, the one Elle had wanted to kiss until the date had gone to hell in a handcart. “You’ve got a little something . . .”

Elle swiped a hand over her cheek, fingers coming back smudged brown with what she prayed was chocolate syrup. “Thanks. Um, what are you doing here?”

Getting food, most likely. Brilliant, Elle.

Brendon chuckled and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I live right down the street by the park. I drop by most mornings. They’ve got better coffee than the chain places, not so overroasted. What are you doing here? Don’t you live downtown?”

A kick landed against her shin. Ow. Right, Mom was staring at her with wide eyes and a tight smile.

“I do, but my family doesn’t.” She gestured across the table. “Brendon, this is my mom, Linda. Mom, this is my friend, Brendon.”

Brendon’s smile widened as he stuck out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Mom’s eyes darted over to Elle as she shook Brendon’s hand. “Always nice to meet a friend of Elle’s.”

Elle’s eyes slipped shut at Mom’s less-than-subtle suggestion.

Brendon, however, seemed to think the mix-up was hilarious. “Oh no, Elle and I are just friends. And business partners, too, I guess.” His toothy smile went lopsided and Elle’s stomach did an anatomically impossible nosedive, plummeting an unrealistic distance before threatening to drop out her butt. “Though I like to think our friendship supersedes that sort of thing.”

“Right?” Elle chuckled nervously, avoiding Mom’s questioning head tilt.

“Not that your daughter isn’t amazing,” Brendon continued, digging Elle’s hole deeper. “But I’d have to fight my sister and I have full confidence Darcy could whoop my butt.”

Hearing Darcy’s name twisted Elle’s already stressed stomach, her laughter taking on a frantic edge that had both Brendon and Mom staring at her funny. Elle shut the menu and fanned it in front of her, needing the breeze.

Had he not spoken with his sister?

“Elle?” With her brows lifted, the look on Mom’s face brokered no argument.

She cleared her throat. “Right, sorry. Brendon’s the creator of OTP. You know, the dating app?”

Brendon nodded. “The whole team is over the moon”—he dimpled—“to be working with Elle and Margot. Our algorithms are solid, but we’re hoping that with their help, our success rate will break the forty percent threshold on relationships lasting longer than one month.”

Based on Mom’s frown, Brendon might as well have been speaking Klingon. “And you’re—working for this company, Elle? Is this a salaried position?”

Elle’s face flamed as she flashed an apologetic smile at Brendon. “Mom. We’re consulting with OTP as independent contractors. It’s . . . it’s a big deal, okay?”

Mom’s frown deepened, making Elle lose her appetite entirely. So much for that.

Her smile felt flimsy when she looked up at Brendon. “Margot and I are jazzed about it, too. We were just talking about it last night, how excited we are to hit the ground running.”

Brendon stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Speaking of last night . . .”

Shit. Here it goes.

“Darcy made me promise not to say anything, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, yeah?” He shot her a conspiratorial wink that under any other circumstance would have made her grin because he was absolute shit at winking, but in a totally endearing way because he either had no clue, or he knew and didn’t care. Now, it just curdled the macchiato in her stomach.

“You talked to Darcy?” She swallowed, ignoring Mom’s curious stare in favor of focusing on Brendon’s face, studying it for any sign of what bombshell he was about to drop that he’d sworn himself to secrecy over. “About . . . about last night?”

“Oh yeah. She’s . . .” Brendon trailed off, shaking his head, the expression on his face inscrutable. Her pulse tripped as she held her breath. Brendon ducked his chin, chuckling down at the table. “I’ve never seen her like this before.”