Written in the Stars(18)

On a date with the wrong person.

Elle set her jaw. “Whatever. It’s not like you’re obligated to like me or anything.”

It had nothing to do with liking Elle, or not. Had Elle not been looking for love, had she been fine with something less serious and more temporary, Darcy wouldn’t have minded exploring what those heated glances could’ve led to. But Elle was looking for something serious and Darcy wasn’t, so there was no use wasting time on what-ifs when they were inherently incompatible.

“I could’ve been nicer,” Darcy admitted.

“True.” Elle’s lips quirked, her smile brief, a sun breaking through clouds. “I’m still missing something. Why lie and tell Brendon you wanted to see me again when you clearly don’t?”

Not entirely true. Topic of conversation aside, talking with Elle wasn’t awful. Granted, it would’ve been better had she been wearing less clothing. In which case, Darcy would’ve been happy to see a lot more of Elle. Often.

“Again, product of poor timing.” Darcy lifted a shoulder and gave Elle a rueful smile. “Brendon came in here, guns blazing, talking about how I should sign up for speed dating and, to be honest, that sounds like my idea of hell. When my usual excuses—reasons—didn’t work, I told him I was seeing someone. But then he wondered why I’d agreed to go out with you if I was seeing someone else.”

Realization flickered in Elle’s eyes. “So you told him it was me you hit it off with.”

Darcy bit the edge of her lip and nodded.

For a moment, Elle was silent. Lips twisting to the side and brow furrowing, she finally asked, “What was your end game?”

“My what?”

“You know. How you saw this playing out. You tell Brendon we’re seeing each other and then what was supposed to happen? Didn’t you think he’d catch on eventually? Or, I don’t know, ask me about you?”

Darcy scratched the side of her neck. She’d made a gamble, yes. She should’ve known better, but Brendon had given her no choice but to think fast on her feet. As a consequence, her plan had been riddled with holes. It could’ve worked, but she’d been thwarted by Brendon’s absolute inability to keep his trap shut.

“For starters, I swore him to secrecy. I told him I didn’t want him messing this up for me. I intended to capitalize on my intention to reach out to you and milk that for as long as I could before Brendon finally caught on. I didn’t exactly lie, I omitted and let him fill in the blanks.”

Elle gawked. “That’s cunning. That’s . . . that’s . . . Slytherin.”

“Excuse me?”

“Slytherin.” Elle’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god. Don’t tell me you don’t know your Hogwarts house. Pottermore? The Sorting Hat Quiz?” When Darcy stared, Elle groaned and covered her face. “You don’t do social media, you don’t believe in astrology, and now you don’t like Harry Potter. On behalf of our generation, I am offended, you rock dweller.”

Darcy scoffed. “I do not live under a rock. I know what you’re talking about, I was choosing to ignore you because your assumption about me was baseless.”

And not that it was any of Elle’s business, but Darcy was a Ravenclaw.

“Like I said, I never lied,” Darcy reiterated, keeping this conversation from getting further off track. “I stretched the truth.”

“Stretched the truth? Are you kidding me?” Elle exhaled noisily through her nose, jaw ticking. “Look, what you choose to tell your brother, or not tell your brother, whatever, is your business. But whether you meant to or not, you pulled me into a narrative I’d very much like to be excluded from, plus, you put me in a pickle.”

Swallowing a laugh at her phrasing, Darcy gave what she hoped was a carefully thoughtful stare. “I put you in a pickle?”

“Yes, a real gherkin of a situation.”

How she managed to say that with a straight face was a mystery. Even Darcy couldn’t keep from snorting at the word gherkin being used to sincerely describe one’s state of being. “I didn’t realize it would be such a big dill.”

Elle rolled her shoulders back and glared daggers. “It isn’t funny. I was at breakfast with my mom when your brother waltzed up and spilled your story. Told me you’re smitten. Now my mom, and most likely my whole family, thinks I’m halfway to being in the first successful relationship I’ve ever had. I’m sure my mom’s working on a cake as we speak. Elle’s finally got her shit together. Let’s bust out the confetti.”

Darcy sobered. This was a different side of Elle than the starry-eyed soul-mate-seeking girl she’d met last night.

“I . . . apologize. Sincerely. I was remiss in assuming my brother could keep his mouth shut. But this isn’t hopeless.” Darcy licked her lips, shifting her weight from one foot to the other beneath Elle’s stare. “Why don’t you tell your mother Brendon was mistaken?”

Elle worried her bottom lip between her teeth, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, sure. That’ll go great. And what am I supposed to say to your brother?”

“Maybe you could”—Darcy winced—“not say anything to Brendon? Yet.”

Elle blinked those blue eyes of her balefully. “I’m sorry. Are you suggesting I lie to your brother? Your brother who happens to be my friend and brand-new business partner? Because that’s what it sounds like.”