Written in the Stars(3)
Elle bit her lip and smoothed the napkin on her lap, smothering her grin at having taken Darcy by surprise. Only when she was no longer in danger of beaming like a loon did she lift her eyes and . . . Darcy was back to staring across the table, only this time there was something more than polite interest in her gaze.
For a moment, Elle couldn’t breathe. All she could do was watch as Darcy’s blush deepened, pink cheeks turning crimson.
The smooth column of Darcy’s throat jerked as she swallowed. Her tongue darted out to wet her full bottom lip, drawing Elle’s eye to a crescent-shaped freckle at her lip line, and dear God, she hadn’t had anything to drink yet and already she was dizzy, though that might’ve had something to do with how her lungs refused to cooperate.
Magnetic. Elle couldn’t look away because this was champagne bubbles on her tongue, the first plunge into a swimming pool on a scorcher of a day, that moment right before the bass drops in a killer song. Sparks, chemistry, whatever it was, this was the sort of it’s there or it’s not connection she’d been chasing.
Before she could find her voice, the waiter returned, tray in hand. First, he filled Darcy’s glass from a miniature carafe, then poured a splash of red into Elle’s. He waited, clearing his throat gently.
Was she seriously supposed to . . . sniff it? Sample it? And say what? God, just last week she and Margot had finished off a box of Franzia rosé. She’d guzzled the dregs from the wine bladder while Margot squeezed the bag. Elle’s tastes weren’t exactly what she’d call discerning.
She took a whiff, sipped, and hummed thoughtfully. Yuck. “Yep. That is definitely merlot. Thanks.”
The waiter’s lips twitched as he filled her glass with the rest of the wine. “I’ll be back to take your order shortly.”
Elle tucked her hair behind her ear, finger snagging on her hoop. Darcy’s blush had mostly dissipated, but she gulped her wine, eyes looking everywhere but at Elle. That was fine; Darcy wouldn’t be acting that way unless the moment had affected her, too.
“Brendon mentioned you work in . . . insurance? Is that right?”
Darcy swallowed and dipped her chin. “I’m an actuary.”
“That sounds . . . interesting?”
Darcy actually chuckled. “I know, it sounds astonishingly dull, doesn’t it?”
Leaning back in her chair, Elle grinned. “I’m not sure I even know what an actuary does.”
“I help to establish accurate and fair pricing for insurance premiums by analyzing variables and trends in historical data. It’s calculus, mostly.” Darcy shrugged and set her wineglass on the table. “I enjoy it.”
The word calculus gave Elle a violent flashback to undergrad. Math was not something that usually got her hot under the collar, even if she was decent at it. But if Darcy wanted to spend the evening discussing differentials and limits, Elle would happily listen to the smooth cadence of Darcy’s voice.
“That’s what’s important.” Elle crossed her legs beneath the table, her ankle brushing Darcy’s briefly. “Life’s too short to waste on something you don’t enjoy. It’s the best of both worlds when what you love also pays your bills.”
Darcy smiled and a teensy dimple formed beside her mouth like a parenthesis for that special freckle. “What do you do?”
“Oh, Brendon didn’t say?” For being the brains behind a dating app, Brendon was missing a few of the critical points of matchmaking. “I’m an astrologer. Margot—that’s my roommate—and I, we’re the voices behind Oh My Stars.”
Darcy cocked her head, copper curls spilling over her shoulder.
“You know, the horoscope Twitter and Instagram account? We have a book coming out in six months, too.”
Darcy shook her head. “I don’t really do Twitter. Or Instagram. Social media at all for that matter.”
Who didn’t do social media? It was one thing to steer clear of Facebook, which had been infiltrated by older relatives, sure, but Twitter? Instagram?
“Well, we tweet advice interspersed with the occasional meme and joke. OTP wants us to consult on adding a birth chart element to the match system. It would allow users to evaluate compatibility, not only based on the fun elements OTP’s already known for like their BuzzFeed-style personality quizzes and favorite ships and whatnot, but also the most pertinent planetary positions at the time of your birth.” She pointed to Darcy’s cell. “If you let me borrow your phone, I can pull up your chart really quick. All I need is your date, time, and location of birth.”
Darcy’s lips twitched. “I’m good.”
“Do you not know your time of birth? Because most of the planets are slow moving enough that—well, I couldn’t tell you about your ascendant or your houses, and your Moon could potentially be tricky, but we could still look at a few factors.” Unless—oh crap, had she overstepped? Elle was so used to doing readings, not only for a living, but also analyzing the birth charts of friends and family, that asking was second nature. “If that’s too personal, I completely understand.”
Darcy plucked her glass by the stem and swirled her wine. “Sorry, I don’t really believe in that stuff.”
Elle frowned. “Stuff?”
Teeth sunk into her lower lip, Darcy looked like she was trying not to laugh. “The supposed link between astronomical phenomena and human behavior. Blaming your personality on the planets sounds a bit like a cop-out.”