Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
I know a lot more about Isla, thanks to our exchange tonight. I learned some things about myself too. I can be a tenacious motherfucker. Which brings me back to the ace that’s been up my sleeve since I ran into Wilder and Fable. Does Isla even know about the upcoming games in Evergreen Falls, or what it might mean for her matchmaking mission? Doubtful.
Well, there’s nothing like a sneak attack.
I hit her name and do something I bet she’s not expecting.
I call her.
It barely rings. She picks up instantly…on video. And holy fuck. I was right. Her face is covered in green goop. A white fluffy robe is cinched tight around her waist. She’s reaching for a wineglass on the counter, her face turned away from the phone.
“The black dress. My answer is still the black—”
She turns back to me, and her lips part, her eyes pop, Oh shit is written all over her face. “I thought…I thought you were Mabel!”
“I’m not, but thanks for the fashion tip,” I say dryly. “Should I wear a face mask too?”
A second later, the phone is showing me a view of…the hallway. She’s clearly moving through it. “What can I do for you?”
She’s all crisp and maybe a little embarrassed. Ah, hell, I don’t want her to feel bad. “Isla, your mask is cute.”
“It’s not,” she says.
“It is. I swear.”
She’s quiet.
“I can hear you rolling your eyes,” I add.
“But you can’t see them,” she says proudly, as the sound of water running patters on her end. Her camera now shows me a red towel with a white border and mistletoe embroidery in the corner. She has Christmas towels in her bathroom.
“Would it make you feel better if I put one on? A mask?”
“Do you even have one?”
“No. But there are these things called stores. I can have one delivered,” I say as the water grows louder.
A second later, she pops up, turns the camera around. “There.”
Her face is scrubbed clean. Like a skin-care ad. “You look dewy as fuck right now,” I say.
I swear she tries to fight off a smile as she asks, “Anyway, you were calling because…?”
Well, I do have a reason but now I’m curious. “Why didn’t you just turn off the video once you realized it was me?”
As she moves through her home again, she shoots me a sharp-eyed stare. “Do I look like someone who backs down?”
Fair point. “See item four in my text. You’re a formidable competitor.”
“Exactly.”
“Which is why I hate to bring you this bad news.”
Her brow knits as she sinks down on her lavender linen couch, shifting a silver snowflake cushion to the side. “What bad news?”
Time to go for the kill. I blow out a long breath, like I’m so saddened by this development. “The thing is—we’ve got a new minor-league affiliate in Evergreen Falls. Which is three and a half hours from here.”
Her brow knits. With suspicion. Maybe concern. “I know. I’m from there.”
Right. Of course she knows how far away the town is. “And, we’re playing all our home games there from mid-December up until a couple of days before Christmas. So…” Another sigh, and damn, I deserve an Oscar for the way I’m Timothée Chalamet-ing this performance. “I guess we’ll need to throw in the towel on this whole matchmaking thing since I’ll only be around for…” I pause to make a show of looking at my watch, “two more weeks. We’ll need to be in Evergreen Falls by the fourteenth. And I guess that’s really only twelve days, since tomorrow is the second. Plus I’ve got practice during the day, plus some volunteer work, then a game Wednesday night. It’s crazy busy.” I frown. “I’m sorry, Isla.”
I add in a slump of my shoulders to sell it.
For a few seconds, Isla says nothing, just purses her lips. I can’t tell if disappointment passes in her eyes or not. But I can tell she’s doing matchmaker math in her head. This woman is nothing if not calculating. She shrugs and smiles. “No problem. I’ll just work faster. I’ll pick you up at one p.m. on Tuesday. Gives you time for your practice and volunteer work tomorrow. I chatted with Mia briefly today, and she mentioned she doesn’t get out of school till three-thirty. As long as you have no other plans, that time should work out fine for you. And after our final session, we’ll have you going on some dates in no time. So don’t even worry about the tight turnaround. Though, it’s sweet that you did.”
She checked with my daughter about my schedule? That must have been when Isla pulled Mia aside during Advent calendar negotiations. Talk about tenacious.
“Fine,” I grumble, beaten again. This is getting to be a habit.
And so’s the fact that I’m annoyingly looking forward to Tuesday’s get-to-know-you session. I remember how much it threw her off when I offhandedly teased her about wanting to date me. I have zero interest in dating, but I sure do like pushing her buttons. “See you on our date.”